31
With the help of the taxi driver, Qui and JZ located Rita’s place, where they found her to be a bubbly, friendly person who, on learning that Luis had sent them, could not do enough for them. “Luis’s family is my family too!” she declared. “You are the niece he talks of when he visits, Tomaso Aguilera’s daughter.”
Amazed Luis’d mentioned her, Qui thought perhaps they were related after all. “Does he come here often?”
Rita laughed in a warm inviting way, “Carnival every year, he comes to visit. But come, let’s find you clothes before you shower and eat.”
They wandered her shop as she brought out ornate beautiful festival clothes from the back; clothes intended for sale only to tourists. The money likely supported her more than her meager government salary. Qui idly wondered if she received benefits as a widow. Not one to interfere with how people chose to support themselves as long as no one was hurt and laws were not too openly flaunted, Qui admired Rita’s skill as a seamstress. The clothes were lightweight, appropriate for both the heat and Carnival.
After collecting several outfits, Rita asked her visitors to follow as she climbed stairs to her private residence. “You’ve come at a good time. My older sister finally found a man to marry her, and they are off on honeymoon visiting relatives in the hills. They’ll be celebrating Carnival in their own private way this year!” She chuckled. “They have an apartment here that I’ll prepare for you. It’s small, but enough for two.”
JZ offered what little money he had left, but Rita refused his offer. “Family takes care of family.” This aspect of Cuban life continually surprised JZ. For people with so little, they were generous and welcoming even to a stranger.
Directing them to separate bathrooms, Rita warned, “Do not use too much pressure or we’ll run out of hot water. Tonight, you go enjoy the Carnival, then come back. Carnival goes all night and day, as you can hear.” She waved toward the open windows. “I’ll make us food. Fish?”
“Oh, anything but fish! All we’ve eaten for days is fish. I think I’ve grown scales on my back!” said Qui laughing.
“Pork and morros with tomatoes from the garden.”
Qui’s mouth began watering in anticipation. “You have a garden here?”
“Not me, my daughter. She brings fresh vegetables. Now, go shower for dinner and Carnival!”
Above the sound of the water, Qui heard Rita singing, her voice a rich sultry contralto as warm and welcoming as the woman herself. Qui smiled, now knowing the real reason Luis came back each year was more than just the Carnival de Santiago. It’d been a long time on the fishing trawler without a place to properly bathe, so Qui thoroughly enjoyed washing the salt and smell of the sea from her hair and skin.
Having showered and changed into cool clothing, Qui and JZ savored a brief meal on the windswept veranda until Rita shooed them out into the night to enjoy the festival.
Feeling relatively safe so far from Havana, with those seeking their deaths believing them at the bottom of the sea, the pair enjoyed their evening of music, frivolity, dance, and rum. Awash in the sound of musical groups, the sight of parading locals with giant brightly-colored masks, and dancers wearing lavish costumes, JZ shouted over the street party.
“It’s like something out of Shakespeare’s Mid-Summer’s Night Dream.” Qui’s eyes sparkled at the array of colors and sights.
Qui and JZ were soon swept into the delirious ecstatic dancing that followed the parades, and JZ finally got his wish to dance with Qui. With the entire city partying around them, the evening took on a romantic, magical feel that infused the couple with childlike delight.
Exhausted by midnight, they arrived back at their temporary quarters. Rita had not exaggerated: the rooms were small with brightly painted walls covered with posters and photographs. The curtains and bed linens competed with the walls for brightness in a wild melee of riotous color. JZ stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the sight. It was as if Carnival continued inside the room.
Smiling, Qui asked, “Too much local color?”
Nodding, JZ laughed allowing her to guide him into the room. Pulling her to him in a hug, he said, “Another wonderful evening you’ve given me.” Not letting her pull away, he tipped up her chin upward and passionately kissed her.
Qui lingered a moment in his arms, savoring the kiss, then pulled away. “It’s the magic of Santiago. I’ve always heard Carnival was magical. Tonight’s proved it. So different from Havana’s carnival, where we just watch.”
“So how many miles do you suppose we danced the conga?”
“According to my feet, too many! Liliana would love this; we’ve got to bring her next year.”
Noticing the “we” in her comment, JZ wondered at the Freudian slip. “We? Hmmm… Is that some sorta invitation?”
Qui colored and turned away, pretending an interest in the passing parade outside the open window.
“JZ… There is no “we” and can’t be.”
JZ laughed at her unintended rhyme and joked, “But there can’t be no ‘can’t be’s in love, don’t-cha sees?”
At that, staring at one another, they burst into laughter.
“Too much rum is the only excuse for bad poetry,” Qui announced. “Time for bed!”
JZ looked around and asked, “Where’s the couch? I was going to take the couch. You take the bed.”
“There is no couch, JZ.”
“Hmmmm…then it appears that I’ll take the floor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both adult enough to share a bed without anything happening!”
“Are you sure?” he asked, ever the gentleman.
“I’m sure,” she smiled at him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “ We’ll just sleep in our clothes.”
“You under the covers, me over?” he added.
“Yeah, that way, nothing happens, right?”
“And if nothing happens…”
“Right, we don’t have to worry ‘bout…you know…”
“Things getting complicated?”
She smiled and nodded, adding, “Who needs complications.”
“Emotional entanglements,” he said, nodding.
“Right.”
Taking off shoes, each found space on the small bed. She crawled beneath the sheets, and he remained atop.
“But you know, Qui,” he began, “I like the way we are together.”
“You mean the way we dance?”
“That and the way we kiss.” He pulled up on one elbow to look into her eyes and features. “You’re a beautiful woman, Qui Aguilera.”
“The way I look? No makeup, exhausted, my hair all over the place-wild from dancing?”
“You look absolutely natural, beautiful.” He kissed Qui on the lips, pulled back and smiled.
“Hmmm.” She pulled him to her, returning his kiss.
Each felt the heat from the other coming through the sheet and through their clothing. They continued kissing, exploring. Soon, somehow, the blanket fell to the floor, followed by Qui’s blouse and JZ’s shirt. Their hands began exploring as they continued to kiss. Their remaining clothing proved no obstacle to either their enjoyment or their foreplay. In fact, tracing the boundary where skin disappeared beneath clothing made each shiver in anticipation of more touch. Unable to resist a moment longer the pleasure of skin sliding against skin, what little clothing remained now came off. Irresistible sensation ruled; thought, analysis, and doubt ceased, as their bodies moved to the rhythms still echoing throughout the city.
The night of freedom and fun ended with shared passion, despite their combined misgivings about the future or the chance of their ever having a true relationship.
Wrapped in JZ’s arms, Qui’s last conscious thought was how comfortable she felt in his embrace.
