PorQuSeFue

GarrettBenjaminLayton

The ground was slippery. Every time someone jumpedin,theresultantsplashsoakedthe

ground and sent older women darting forcover,notwantingtheirbrightlypaintedtoenailstoget
wet. The gatedbackyardsmelledsmoky,inpartbecauseofthemeatbarbecuingofftothesideof
the crowded pool. Sweet guava glaze was slathered on everything that came out of the small
black charcoal grill. The smoky scent could also be blamed on the cloud of cigar smoke that
hungoverthebackyard,typicalofaCubanpartyintheseventies.
Ay,Lus,venmteteenlapiscina,someonecalledfromtheoverflowingpool.
No,Illtrytoleaveatleastalittlebitofthewaterinthereforyoutoswimin!
The resounding laughter from the guestsinattendancewaswelltakenbyLus,whotookhissize
lightly. He had always carried a few extra poundstheygavehimhiswellroundedpersonality
helikedtojoke.Hehadevenbeenaccusedofbeingpyknic.
Lus strolled across the slightly browned lawn, nursing a pina colada and taking steady
inhales fromastubbycigar.Scanningthecrowd,heglimpsedmanysmiles,whichbroughtonein
turn to his face. It was common knowledge Lus Ruiz lived a comfortable life, and he enjoyed
helping less fortunate friends to do the same. They were, after all, each of them deserving of
equal opportunities. He had simply spent his opportunities more wisely. Not everyone haddone
thesame.Othersquestionedhowitwaspossibletobethatwise.
A man Lus recognized by face, but not by name, stumbled in to him, trying to start a
conversation.Hiswordsslurredslightly,anditwasdifficultforhimtoformhissentence.
Lus!Esunagranfiesta!Ididntknowyouweresowelloff!
Lusrespondedgracefully.Gracias,hetenidosuerte.
More than lucky, I should say. Your house is large, yourpoolisclean,andyourgrassis
closertoalivethananyoneelsesontheisland.Wheredidyoursuccesscomefrom?
You dont look new to our town off the coast. You know that the promises of the
government for free meals have been sustained. We are all well off here as marxists. The rest
comes simply from my wise investments. No hablemos business sin embargo. Permtanme
presentarlesaunamigo.
The stranger seemed to accept this transition, and was pleased to meet Luss friend,
Amlia. As the two stumbled off together, Lus sighed a breath of relief. His extra wealth was
somewhat of an ongoing investment, and he didnt want anyone else getting wind of that. The
exchange hit close to home. Another man would have taken more drastic measures to ensure
secrecy, but Lus, greedy as he was, was also kind. The drunk guest would forget their
conversation by morning, he was certain. Lus turned back to the party, smiling as hetookasip
fromhisdrink.Heknewlifecouldbealotworse.
***

Servando,tireelcocheunpocomslejos!
Today was carwash day. In thesmallcommunity,everyonecleanedcarsonthesameday,
and would call out to each other from their driveways. In the tenements, everyones cars, lined
up on the street, would be splashed with sudsy water from a shared bucket, dried by shared
towels, and admired by neighbors. In the larger house neighborhoods, Everyone but Lus and
Servando had open garage doors, to talk about upcoming plans, events, and take their mind off
the impending depression they would all fall back into after the afternoon came to a close. The
relentless cutbacks and restrictions to their freedom always looming over them, like a thick wet
cloudreadytoclapwiththunderandfloodfromtheheavens.
Yet today was carwash day. Everyone was nothing but smiles.NotthatLusorServando
could see. Lus had his car rolled into the garage and the entry shut, so he and Servando could
clean behind closed doors. Here, his own worries, about business, loneliness, andsadnesscould
meltaway,andbereplacedbytheshimmeringbeautythatwashiscoche.
I want to impress at my meeting tomorrow! We must have this carlookingmagnificent
again!
Everyone had enchanting cars in Luss town. Rustic, worn, and elegant, they were the
norm in Cuba, where nowold embargos had blocked citizens from getting anything new. Lus
had, however, something that truly outshined his neighbors. With hisbusinesssoprosperous,he
had given subtle augmentations to his car. Unnoticed by most,thewellconditionedleatherseats
were also stitched with an Italian thread. The white wall tires werent uncommon, but the dull
rimsthatwereallbuttheexclusivelookofcarsintownhadbeenreplacedwithshinychrome.
Expect us to be cleaning extra next week! You recall what letting my baby sit in the marina
parkinglotcando.Thatsaltyairisquitethefiend!
Lus enjoyed the finer things in life. He spoiled himself, and as kind as he was, he was
just as greedy. Greed was an uncommon trait for a communist nation, buthehiditwell.Noone
yet had picked up on the enhancements on hiscar,butLusdidcatchtheoddstaredrivingdown
the dirtlined streets. He assured his friends the rims were found in the back of his parents
garage,andhesimplyspentalotoftimekeepingitallclean.Almosteveryonebelievedhim.
***
Necesitoms.
The plea came from an associate of Lus. The pair was sitting on the bow of a yacht,
looking back at the small patch of land bouncing along the darkening horizon that was Luss
tropical abode. A light wind blew them further away from home, and towards what was left
above of the sun above the water. The boat belonged to Ronaldo, who wastakingLusoutfora
ride.HewasalsotheconnectiontotheUnitedStates,whichplayedalargeroleforLus.
I cant make more this quickly, without becoming a larger operation. We need to keep
thingssmallandquiet.
Lus wasnt ready to turn his business into a full scale operation, especially in Cuba. He
was already making plentyofmoney,whywouldheneedmore?Besides,themanfromhisparty

had bumped into Lus earlier today. He had a look of recognition in his eyes, and acted shifty
when confronted by Lus, who asked if he was feeling better. The runin left Lus feeling
conflicted. He could never leave hishomeandmoney,butwhatifthemanhadspokentoothers?
If people started asking questions, he could attract a lotofunwantedattention.Ifheweretohire
more people, he would be placing a lot of trust in people he didnt know. Perhaps if he had
married, itcouldhavebecomeafamilybusiness.ButitwasjusthimandServando.Thatshowit
hadalwaysbeen.
My clients wantmore,andfaster,Lus.Theydontcarewhatkindofoperationyouhave
down here. They are also willing to pay quite a bit more, if you can reach the level of what
theyreasking.
Now Lus was reconsidering. He knew he needed to be careful, but he also knew how
great more money could be. No. He didnt need more. The profit he turned now was morethan
enough,andifRonaldosclientswerentsatisfiedthensobeit.
Ronaldo,nomas.Estoybienconelbeneficioquehagoenestemomento.
Now it was Ronaldo's turn to think. He enjoyed working with Lus, but he had to fill
orders, and if someone else was willing to do a faster production of the sales, then he would
revisit the idea of leaving Lus. For now, he was going to have to convince Lus to work just a
littlebitfaster.
Lus, por favor. Usted sabe que tengo para traer de vuelta al menos un poco ms de
nuestrohabitual.
ButRonaldo,youknowIdonthavethatmuchrightnow.
Perhapsnexttime?
Lus accepted that, eventually, his production level would have to increase. If he didnt
fulfill Ronaldos orders,thenhewouldfindsomeoneelse.Itwasntwhathewanted,butitwould
havetohappenforhimtocontinuehislifethewayhelivedit.
Si.Intentar.Itmadehimqueasysayingit.Lusdidntlikefeelingoutofcontrol.
Ronaldo and Luswereonthesamepage,whethertheywantedtobeornot.Thetwowere
preparedtoincreaseproduction.Untiltheyheardtherumblingofanotherengine.
Whoisthat?Quienes?
Nose.Idontknow.
The two could barely make out the people aboard another small boat in the halflight,
about a quarter of a nautical mile away. The five men in dark uniforms stared back at them,
quietly observing what was clearly intended to be a secret meeting. Both vessels knew that
something was wrong. The opposing craft drifted past Ronaldos boat, making a wide arc and
heading back towards Cuba. Neither Ronaldo nor Lus spoke for a long time, watching what
couldverywellbetheendoftheiroperationshrinkintothehorizon.
I cant be selling cigars anymore, Lus confided in Servandoasherolledanothercigar
and packed it away in a dark wood box for Ronaldo. It was more of a grievance than any real
decision. He was worried, but unsure of how to go forward. He still wasnt ready to leave the

island, and more importantly, his money. This was the life he was accustomed to, and he didnt
wanttogivethatup.Itwasnttimetorun.Notyet.
And yet, he felt like the town was infested with Polica Nacional Revolucionaria. They
spoke in hushed tones, and spoke to people Lus believed to be his friends. They looked at him
stiffly, and as if they were unsure of what to do in his presence. Lus had a feeling the PNR
wasnt in town for water conservation, another of their many duties. He kept to himself more,
and stopped throwing fiestas. He didntwantanyoneathishouse,forfearofsomeonestumbling
uponapieceofevidencethatcouldprovehewasdoingsomethingwrong.
In Cuba, all productionwassupposedtobehandledandcontrolledbythegovernment.In
this way, no business tycoons could rise above the single class, and everyone stayed equal. But
Lus, as a child, was taught by his father how to roll cigars. They grew tobacco in the back
garden, so that Luss father could smoke his own, homemade cigars. After his parents were
gone, Lus continued growingtheleaves,asaconnectiontohispast.Hesoldtheminbackalleys
to his school friends, before eventually meeting Ronaldo through the black market, which
Servando had brought him to when he began helping Lus as his personal valet. Ronaldo was
kind, and didnt take advantage of Lus. He bought at a fair price, and gave Lus gifts from
America, a place he talked of fondly. If he were to ever leave, Lus thought that was where he
would go. But Lus didnt want to think about leaving. He wanted everything to just go backto
normal.
Thursday was calm. Sun warmed the gazebo floor panels, which were smooth and
unpainted. A project, Servando and Lus had worked on in theiryoungeryears.Whenthehouse
was new and had but an empty backyard. Together, they had filled the backyard with art,
gardens, and happy memories. The gazebo was Luss favorite place to sit, smoke a cigar, and
drink tea in the fading afternoon. As the shadows got longer, Lus couldlistentothebirdschirp
and the leaves rustle,andreflectontheweek.Hethoughtaboutwhatwentwell,andwhatdidnt.
He could plan for the next week, and sometimes he would roll cigars for Ronaldo. Tomorrow
evening, he would be at the local pub, to talk with the other townspeople, and keep up good
relations. Everyone went to O Pico on Friday night, buthehadmissedlastweekwhenhesaw
policestandingnearthetaverndoor.
He was confident, however, that the dust had settled with them. No one was after him,
and he was ready to return to his place in the community. As he sat inside the white pillared
gazebo, he decided he would host a fiesta next weekend, andopenhisgarageoncarwashday.It
wastimetoreturntonormal.
***
O Pico was starting to quiet down. It had been a lively night, filled with laughter and
consistently refilled glasses. The band had a new clarinetist, who was still learning how to play
songs, and missed a note occasionally. Luckily, no one could tell, as they could only hear the
squeals of laughter peeling out of their own mouth. To them, it sounded like the Cubas finest
salsa orchestra. It added a flair of glamour to the evening. For dinner, the chef had prepared a

new dish, achiote marinated chicken, and everyone loved it. There was plenty of fresh lime to
squeeze on top, addingtoeveryonesmouthfullofexquisiteflavor.Asthenightworeon,people
began to leave for home, stumbling out the door in twos and threes, leaning on each other and
grinningeartoear.
Everyone was happytohaveLusback.Hewasabigpartoftheirlives,andwhetherthey
suspected him of crimes or not, he improved each of their lives, just bybeinginit.Asreclusive
as he had become, they had missed him. Lus was glad to be back as well. He had missed his
amigos just as much as they missed him. He stayed well into the night, with nowhere to go the
next day, and no more worries about being caught unprepared. The bartender continuedpassing
him endless refills until he could barely ask for more. Hewouldsimplygesturetotheglass,and
the bartender would know what to do. Lus couldnt remember the last time he had this much
fun. He realized he needed to go out more often.Infact,thisweekendwouldbetheperfecttime
forafiesta.
This night, however, was winding down, until finally only Lus was there. Even the
bartender had gone home, trusting Lus to lock the door behind him when he left. Lus swirled
what was left of the dark concoction in front of him on the high table, and thenpusheditaway.
Hesighedhappily.Andthenhefelloutofhisseat.
The stool was kicked out from under him, and his face slammed onto the floor. Thenhe
flew back up again, pulled up by a thick cord around his neck. Lus clawed at the invisible
assailant, trying to get back to his feet and take a breath of air, but the attacker waspullinghim
backwards, dragging his heels on the floor. He was swung around, and slammed into the wall.
The pictures hanging above him fell, spreading broken glass on the floor. Dazed,hetriedtoroll
over and get back to his feet. But a steel toed boot found him in the gut, and Lus convulsed,
bringing him almost to tears. He was lifted up again, and again he felt a thick cord being
wrappedaroundhisneck.
Servando!salvamivida!Lusrasped.
But it wasnouse,Servandohadsteppedout,togetthecarandpickupLusatthebar.Therewas
no one there to help him. His greed had caught up to him. It was now thathetrulyregrettedhis
reclusiveness, his inability to commit to a family. No one had loved him enough to marry him.
Obesityandgreedwerehardlyattractivetraits.Thecordtightened,squeezingthelifeoutofLus.
Heclosedhiseyes,tostopthetearsfromfallingtohischeeks.Hetookonelast,preciousbreath.
He took another breath, and another. The garrotting had ceased. He could breath again.
Lus looked around,searchingforhissavior.Behindhim,onthefloor,wasaleanman,darkwith
unkempt brown hair, as though he was always outside. He was dressed in a black wool
turtleneck, which was splattered with what Luscouldonlyassumewashisdarkblood.Theman
was face down, and the back of his head had collapsed in, due to whomever had saved Lus.
Therewereapairoffamiliarblackshoesnexttotheassailant.Lusfollowedtheshoesupabody,
until he reached Servandos harrowed face. Alookofpainfuldisgustwaspaintedonhisghostly
countenance. The blood was absent from his face. He was staring downwards, but not at the

corpse below him. Lus looked to Servandos hands. In one, a splintered table leg was grasped
tightly, with whitened knuckles. The side was dented andbloodied,andwasclearlytoblamefor
the craterinthedeadmanshead.Theotherhandwasclutchingtheshaftofalargekitchenknife,
which had been plunged into Servandos stomach. He dropped to hiskneesslowly,takingshort,
wearybreaths.Lusrushedtohisside.
Lusbegantospeak,butServandocuthimoff,IfearedIwastoolatetosaveyou,sir.
Yourtimingistheleastofanyonesconcerns,Servando.Estsbien?
No,mimaestro.Nocreoquevoyaviviratravsdelanoche.
WhatwillIdowithoutyou?Ustedesmiroca,minicocompaeroaqu.
It is no matter. You cant stay here anymore.Youmustleave.Moreofthemwillcome,
Servando coughed, and gestured towards the assassin he was laying next to. He was probably
right, but it wasnt the time to talk about this. Tonight, Servandos last night, Lus would stay
with him. They didnt speak, for fear of weakening Servando more. They held each other in an
embrace, as his breaths became further and further apart. Their eyes wereclosed,andtheywere
unknowinglybothprayingtothesamegod.
Servando took a shuddering breath, cutting in to the prolonged silence. He whispered,
YoumustgotoAmerica.Saveyourself.Youcanliveonforthebothofus.
Lus choked out a response, You will always be withme.Youwillendurethroughme.
With that, they mumbled promises, too quiet for other ears. Their friendship had been one that
Lus would never, could never, find again. Servando exhaled,andwasthensilent.Luswasnow
utterlyalone.
***
The birds were screaming abovehim.Thewavescrashedviolently.Windthrewsandinto
his face, but Lus stood still. The indignation didnt bother him. His eyes didnt waver fromthe
horizon.Hetookadragoffhiscigar.
It had been three days since Servandos death. Lus had buried his friend beside his
parents. His family was now all together again, except for him. They were safe from what he
could only assume were government employed mercenaries. The government had found him,
and they were clearly displeased. Lus wouldnt be extirpated. He wouldnt be buried with the
restofhisdepartedrelatives.Withluck,andServandosspiritonhisside,hehopedtomakeitoff
theuncompromisingisland.HewouldmakeittohisnewrefugeAmerica.
Ronaldos boat popped up on the horizon. Lus put out his cigar, and picked up his
suitcases. In the crook of his elbow, he cradled a small picture, of him and Servando in the
tobacco garden. His greed had destroyed that life, and the picture would remind him not to go
downthatpathagain.Itwastimetobuildhimselfanewlife.