Ganado: a novel Page 3

  Prior to his patience wearing out, Captain Gonzalez noticed the man and called out, “Santiesteban! Over here, man! Come this way!”

  Santiesteban raised his brow and trotted over. He handed the baby to his wife. “Captain Gonzalez? What a surprise to see you here. I’m not to report until Monday.” He reached out his hand to meet the outstretched hand of Captain Gonzalez.

  “Of course, young man. But I couldn’t write to your uncle and let him know you were left a stranger in a new land. Please let me meet your wife and daughter.” He stepped around him to greet her. “Welcome to La Habana, Señora. I hope the trip was not too extreme.” Captain Gonzalez took her gloved hand and gently kissed it.

  Esperanza Santiesteban slightly bent a knee. “Many thanks to you, Señor. You’re most kind. Unfortunately, this trip has been for the ages. Storms and bad seas, continuous illness, moans and groans, crewmen yelling………”

  Santiesteban sternly gave her a ‘shut-up’ look. “Hemm, Esperanza, I’m sure the Captain is too busy to hear about what I suspect is a common passage.” He took the girl from her mother without concern. “Captain, this is my daughter, Graciela”

  The Captain smiled at the baby girl and rubbed her chin. “What a lovely girl! Hello my child. May God Bless and keep you.”

  Esperanza took the baby back. “Thank you, Captain.”

  A moment of silence ensued as the Captain turned a curious look to the handsome woman with the baby and the bearded Santiesteban. “Oh, how discourteous of me. Santiesteban, these are my aides, Lieutenants Arroyo and Perez.”

  Santiesteban returned a slight nod and a tip of the hat to his new colleagues

  Captain Gonzalez turned to his aides. “Ernesto and Luis, please see to their luggage and have the porter put it in my coach. I’ll take you to your apartment, which I hope you’ll find suitable.”

  Santiesteban bristled uncomfortably. “But of course, Captain. You should not have troubled yourself so much.”

  “Why nothing of the sort. Your Uncle Remei would do the same for me if our places were reversed. Today, come and get rid of your sea legs. You will rest and get settled for a few days before we put you to work. Look around our city. Go to church. Meet some of the people.”

  * * *

  8 Cuban revolutionary patriot. He fought against Spain.

  9 Literal expression denoting ‘on top of it all.’

  10 Cabaña refers to La Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabaña. A fort built on high ground overlooking the city.

  Chapter 4

  The rattle of the keys entering the lock served as the alert for nine-year-old Cari to run to the door knowing that her father was home. Galo passed through the threshold in time to be grabbed and have a face driven into his belly. “I am so surprised! You got me again! I don’t know how you do it every time!”

  Raising her head, Cari smiled. “Oh, daddy, I missed you.”

  “But I see you every day! You cannot miss me! How’s your mother?”

  She blew her cheeks with air and stuck her belly out. “She is biiiig! I listened to the baby and felt the kicks. It kicks hard! Mother said it hurt.”

  Rona’s sister, Nevy entered the room and came to them. As quickly as Cari appeared, she turned and ran back into her room to her sisters, Iris and Mandy.

  “How is she?” asked Galo.

  Nevy pressed her lips, nodded her head and lowered her eyes.

  “It’s painful.”

  “Has there been any bleeding or nausea or fever?”

  She lifted her view and looked puzzled. “Why, no. Why would you think so?”

  “You said painful.”

  “Oh, I meant painful to continuously fight with her to get rest! Do you know what your wife did all morning?”

  He nodded.

  “I had to chase her down. She walked to the market after seeing the other girls to school. She haggled with merchants as though she could squeeze the silver out of every five-cent piece. She later came home and started in on Ciro about the chores. And if it wasn’t enough, at the top of her lungs she told the neighbors three doors down to stop their nocturnal activities!”

  Galo chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “So she’s great! When will the doctor come by?”

  “He left a few minutes ago and said it wasn’t time yet, but it was hard to tell and could happen at any time. That was after your wife slapped him hard because he wanted to see if she had dilated.”

  “Great. So I guess we have to hurry up and wait. Where is she now?”

  “She finally laid down for a nap.” Nevy pointed at the package Galo carried. “What do you have there?”

  “Almost forgot.” He handed over the newspaper wrapping. “I brought home some kidney. Perhaps between you and Ciro, we can have a good supper?”

  “Kidneys, yummy. I’ll leave Ciro alone and make supper myself.”

  “I’ll wash up and take my nap on the couch so I don’t disturb Rona.”

  Galo walked to the washroom and began cleaning off the labor of his day. Elio’s comments earlier in the day came to his mind. He considered the odd couple he and Rona made. He stood barely five feet tall and perhaps one hundred pounds, if he had change in his pocket. Though still young, his hair showed signs of thinning, but retained its dirty blond color. His eyes were green and a tad squinty. He did not draw attention in a crowd; as non-descript as one could be. Of course, his voice thundered and made one believe a monster of a man stood behind it. Many times the voice backed down a larger man, more quickly if they had prior enlightenment about his knife.

  He smoked cigarettes and a cigar now and then. He didn’t drink except the occasional celebrations or when the business called for it. The issue with his livelihood could not be improved. It was a gory business left to men like him. He made peace with his role of killing bovines. It wasn’t an act of pleasure, but one of survival. It meant his family would always eat and although he was not a religious man, he had believed that animals were put on earth to serve man, especially as food. It definitely wasn’t a pleasant business and the people doing this kind of job seemed to age faster than most.

  An older brother, Frank, left La Habana for an eastern province years earlier. A much taller and better-looking man, who had no family as yet, and probably, would have none. He liked to work with his hands and did not like big crowds in big cities, so the countryside and the smaller town of Camagüey seemed to suit him well. They kept in touch, but not too often.

  Their parents passed as a result of many years of hard labor in the fields. Both were Spanish immigrants caught in the struggle for Cuban liberation. Truly and equally indifferent towards the belligerent causes, they were in the middle and the middle was no place to be. Each step seemed to move them forward as a lure for an impending disaster. They were interested in feeding and raising their sons in peace. Unfortunately, they were worn down by it all.

  Galo often thought about them and about why things were. Life was unfair. He did not expect it to be fair and knew it required all of his efforts. Nature had a way about things and one needed to observe, learn and play it out. Therefore, he became a curious and observant man. He finished the sixth grade before leaving to find work.

  Numbers came easily to him. There existed no arithmetical problem he couldn’t solve in a matter of seconds. He could have made money at a circus or carnival betting the crowd to come up with a calculation he couldn’t solve. These tests were constant from all the people who knew him.

  Elio assessed this skill early in their acquaintance and never considered another business partner. This logical thinking allowed Galo to formulate other strategies that extended well beyond numbers. He understood people, their motives, their fears, their virtues, their flaws, and anything that could be discerned by watching and listening.

  As to his minor participation in the slaughterhouse, Matadero El Sol, Galo knew all the numbers and the yields; for cattle is Ganado11- all gain. It meant everything in cattle was sold for a profit. Cattle provided hides, the
top layer and the lower layer. The fat sold for grease and the bones for soup, calcium, and fertilizer. The blood went for sausages and medicines, and there was gelatin. Tallow became soap, and of course, there was the meat.

  The finest cuts garnering the highest price. The secondary cuts -- still good beef, but not as tender — sold to the housewives who needed to fill up many stomachs on a small budget. Finally, the organs or sweetbreads, which mostly the poor would eat, provided the more distinctive flavors. Around his table, tonight, his family would enjoy the taste of kidneys

  Every cattle had a yield for these products. Galo knew the counts; they were imbedded in his brain. He could look at a lot being delivered and instantly calculate how much the lot would yield in product. From there, he could immediately tally what this yield would render in pesos. He understood Ganado.

  The Spaniards introduced cattle to the new world three and a half centuries earlier. The animals flourished in general, though it was tougher in the tropics with many hazards to overcome. There were field lice, which could make them weak and sick. The heat could dehydrate them. They were grass fed, but they could not be muscular. Galo wished he could spend more time learning about how to breed cattle with better yields, but couldn’t break away from the commitment to his partners and the slaughterhouse. Yet the instincts were there.

  Applying his observed logic of nature, he married a much larger woman to offset his diminutive size and have bigger, stronger children. This is the way he thought. He was also tenacious. If he had something in his mind to accomplish, there was nothing to stand in the way.

  Rona stood a giant of a woman for her day. She towered a good eight inches taller than Galo and about eighty pounds heavier, even greater presently that she carried a child. She was strong like the strongest being one could imagine. Her features showed her Canarian mix of Europeans and Africans. Thick eyebrows perched above her dark warming eyes. A round face with an upturned smile made her friendly to all. Her voice was feminine, but never weak. She came from such poor means that she had no chip to carry on her shoulder. She befriended the street cleaner, vendor, doctor, lawyer, beggar and the well to do just as easily. She could barter and haggle more successfully than those who got paid to do that sort of thing. Oh, and she was illiterate; could not read or write a word.

  Like her size, her story was also remarkable. Her parents set off from the Canary Islands with their four daughters and a young son to find a better life in the new world. Other Canarians of the time would send word of the wonders Cuba offered and these people opted for the chance. They eventually settled in a farming community west of La Habana.

  The work was hard, but it was their work. They also got caught up in the war for Cuban liberation. Despite the townspeople being Spaniards, the Spanish army burned their crops and houses to prevent them from aiding the rebels. Both parents and the brother perished — though the cause was never verified — Spanish soldiers or starvation.

  Dami, Nevy, Carmen, and Rona were nine, eight, six and three. The girls found themselves orphaned to Spanish strangers. One could not imagine how they survived. After this traumatic event, each girl was deposited at churches along the island. Each tossed at the mercy of the people they did not know and with absolutely no support even from each other. They were lost to each other, and would remain so for many years.

  It wasn’t until Galo and Rona married that she shared her story with Galo. She longed for her siblings. Her story motivated Galo to take on the challenge. He dedicated every spare moment to searching for her siblings. The complications were far-reaching, but the church was the official record keeper of such things. He eventually found them throughout three different orphanages and reunited them. Dami had married and lived elsewhere on the island. Nevy and Carmen lived with them in La Habana. The knowledge he gained from this experience would serve Galo well. Irrespective of Galo’s flaws, Rona would be indebted and devoted to her husband. Galo would forever take care of his wife and her sisters.

  * * *

  11 Ganado is the Spanish word for cattle. It also means that it has been won, or that it is all gain.

  Chapter 5

  Presenting himself in his Spanish dark blue police uniform, Santiesteban approached the sergeant manning the operations desk. The olive skinned, heavy-set officer sat at a high desk above the room with a blackboard to his back scribbled with several notations. He continued to write and did not look up despite Santiesteban clearing his throat. Another second passed and Santiesteban affirmed, “Officer, I’m here to see Captain Gonzalez.”

  “It’s ‘Sergeant’ and you will have to give me a minute to finish this report,” replied the sergeant, again without looking up.

  Santiesteban wiggled his nose a bit. “Well, it’s ‘Lieutenant’ and you will give me your attention immediately!”

  The sergeant stopped his pencil and looked up. He pointed with the pencil and halfway stood. “What are you? Some kind of a toy soldier?”

  Santiesteban glimpsed across to see a khaki outfit without a coat, and a strained button mid-belly.

  The sergeant sat back down and waived his pencil as he spoke. “Oh, so you’re the new guy, just got here from Spain. Yes, we’ve been expecting you, Lieutenant.” He returned to his report.

  Santiesteban stood there with a confused look on his face, startled, silent for seconds that appeared to be hours. In this short time, he revisited his first presentation in Barcelona. There was a solemn ceremony for he and his peers. Their badges, credentials, and weapons were presented. Anthems were played and the commandant saluted and shook his hand. “Are we in some wild frontier here? Are you not supposed to stand at attention when a superior officer enters the room and addresses you?”

  Other policemen working in the room became aware of the newcomer. The sergeant dropped his pencil and looked up with a raised eyebrow. “No, this isn’t a frontier. It also is not some rotten King’s court commanded by a privileged few. Respect is earned not given because one has a title or a fancy uniform. So, you can take your rank and your shit blue uniform and wipe your ass with it!”

  Santiesteban went rigid and red. He reached down for his weapon, but there wasn’t one. He, of course, had not been issued his credentials, but he couldn’t let this continue. He needed to establish authority. He leaned toward the high desk and gritted his teeth. “Listen, you half breed piece of shit, I’ll knock your teeth out and reconfigure your face unless you show some respect. I’m a lieutenant and I will demand the respect owed.”

  The room fell silent and several officers were beginning to stand. In the past there were altercations between policemen. Usually over a lady or a question as to credit for capturing a criminal or some wager gone wrong, but nothing related to an introduction. The sergeant stood leaning forward and formed a tight fist with his right hand, when Captain Gonzalez came into the room.

  “Good morning, men!”

  This cut the tension and settled everyone back to his seat as a disharmonized ‘good morning’ floated throughout the room.

  “Sergeant Garcia, I see you’ve met Lieutenant Santiesteban, recently arrived from Barcelona.”

  Garcia settled back into his seat with a sigh and cynically stated, “Yes, Captain. It truly has been an introduction. As a matter of fact, we were discussing the virtues of titles and respect.”

  Dismissively Santiesteban addressed the captain, “Captain Gonzalez, with your permission I would like some clarity. Am I not a Lieutenant in your force?”

  “Of course, you are.”

  “Are lieutenants a higher grade than sergeants?” He lifted his glance toward the sergeant.

  Gonzalez stared at the Sergeant who locked his eyes with Santiesteban’s and with the end of the question rotated them to the captain. The Captain switched his eyes from one man to the other several times before finally speaking. “Yes, Lieutenants are a higher rank and Captains are higher even. Santiesteban, please go this way to my office.” He heard “Yes sir,” and turned to follow. The sergeant e
ased back to his work shaking his head, but Captain Gonzalez clearly heard him say under his breath, “what a piece of shit the Captain has brought on. And I got passed for a promotion in favor of this pompous ass.”

  ~~~

  In the Captain’s office the two men entered and the Captain signaled where to sit. Santiesteban took the seat rigidly. The Captain waved for Ernesto, his aide, to close the door. The office contained a simple desk and a series of chairs. Papers seemed to crowd the desk and files were strewn at every corner. A large window behind the captain’s seat gave a view of the center courtyard of the station.

  Clearing his throat and softening his approach, the Captain began. “Santiesteban, welcome to La Habana’s police force. We are in need of qualified policemen and I am pleased we were able to get you here. I hope you and your wife have settled in.”

  Santiesteban nodded.

  “I’m not quite sure what was going on out there, but you need to remain calm and understand a few things about La Habana and Cuba. First, there is little formality here and titles don’t carry the same weight as they do where you are from. It is up to the individual. Like you, most people come here for a better life and if you work hard, you can do well, but this is not Spain where you are born to a status and remain there for centuries on end.”

  Santiesteban sat quietly staring at his superior officer.

  “You will find the people here still have a strong affinity for Spain and Spaniards. After all it is our mother country and the source of most of our customs. The sergeant on the watch has been a policeman on this force for twenty years. He trained most of the officers in that room, including me. I am afraid you have made a terrible first impression and it will be difficult for you to do your job. It’s a priority for you to change that impression quickly.”