Havana Club Ch. 06

When I finished, he seemed lost in thought for a few moments.

"That's quite a story, Chris," he finally said. "I can tell how you feel about her. I'm sure you know that, as soon as it is permitted, you're going back there. In the interim, we'll have to see if we can arrange more covert visits." He smiled as he said that, and I smiled for the first time since I left Havana.

"Thanks," I said with a lump in my throat.

"Now, we have to get some business done. Go back to your office and get caught up on messages and e-mail. We'll meet after lunch to start your debriefing. I'm sure you realize that you can't talk to anyone else about your trip. We maintained your cover story about Cancun. No one outside of this group knows where you really were. I'm going to bring Agnes in to take notes. We can trust her. That will be it."

I nodded in agreement and stood to leave.

"Chris?" he started. I turned. "You're going to see her again."

"Thanks."

"I can't say when, but I'll help all I can."

I nodded and walked out.

I had the usual week's worth of messages and e-mail waiting for me. A few friends stopped by to ask about my trip to Mexico. I had been there before enough times that I was able to create a cover story with sufficient details that I could remember. I tried to keep my sadness from showing. I think everyone passed it off as fatigue. As I worked, I kept looking at the picture of Felicita and wondering what she was doing at that moment.

After lunch, we met back in Ross' office. William was there, as well as my old boss, Mike. The original group. Agnes joined us. To her credit, she didn't show much reaction as she took notes and learned about the true nature of my journey. I outlined what I had learned, how there were excellent opportunities for us in Cuba. I also showed the digital photos I had taken (without the ones of Felicita). A few of the pictures had her on the edge of frames, like the ones I took from the scooter as she drove. There were a few comments like, "Who's the cutie?" Ross looked at me quickly with a concerned expression the first time. I passed it off by explaining that she was my driver and that women held many of the same jobs as men. No one caught on to what she really meant to me.

We started building a Crash File. This was a package of documents that had all the details necessary to quickly "crash" into a new market when it opened. I would be responsible for keeping it up to date until the time when it would be needed. It had information on getting into Cuba, the locations I had targeted as potential office locations, lists of products we could send into Cuba, and products that we could ship out. It was a kit that could be grabbed quickly when the time came for me to return to setup shop. I also included the photographs and sketches of locations that I recreated from memory. I also had a lot of notes from my palmtop computer that I included.

Ross made a point to suggest that I periodically revisit Cuba to keep the information current. There was agreement among the group members, making my heart leap for joy. I was going back!I thought.

The debriefing went on for three days, covering almost every aspect of what I had learned. During this time, I was also asked things like, "What was Cuba really like?" Cuba was a forbidden land, and held a special fascination because it was a place we couldn't do business in, or even visit. I was careful to talk about my trip without mentioning my time with Felicita.

After the debriefing concluded and the Crash File was complete, work started getting back to normal. I had new responsibilities with my promotion and I buried myself in my work. I didn't see the need for as much of a personal life anymore, without Felicita. Ross noticed this and called me in a few times to encourage me to take part in outside activities. I was making a lot more money now, but I didn't see any need to spend it on anything. Every facet of my life focused on waiting for the day I could see Felicita again. Encouraged by Ross, my friends made sure I did spend some time away from the office doing the things I used to like doing. My heart wasn't fully in it, but I made the effort. My life wasn't boring; I just had a lonely heart.

One day, about a month after I got back from Cuba, I was called into Ross' office. William was already waiting, and Ross didn't look happy. He didn't look mad, but more sad or disappointed. He told me, with pain, how the President had taken a stronger stance against Cuba and in favor of the embargo. It seems that there were accusations against the Cuban government over new human rights violations. Fidel's government responded with renewed venom in their verbal attacks of the United States. What progress our governments had made over the last twenty years or so was lost. Funding was finally made available to actively prosecute illegal visits to Cuba. Licenses for legal visits were also seriously curtailed, and now just about impossible to get. It would not be possible for me to return with any degree of safety. William looked curiously at me when he saw my reaction to that news. Ross looked at me, I nodded, and he explained about Felicita as I sank into my chair and sulked. I even had to be more careful about keeping my journey secret. I could still be prosecuted for what I had just done.

It was then that I got a new respect for William. He dropped the lawyer front for once, and showed genuine compassion for my plight. He did, though, admonish me not to try sneaking in again. I knew he was right, but I didn't like the fact any better. Both of them were supportive, but the end result was that my prospects of seeing Felicita were, for now, down to zero.

That afternoon, I called Ross.

"I have a lot of vacation time saved up. I want to take a trip," I told him.

"Now, Chris, don't try anything foolish. You know what –"

"I know that," I said coolly. "Don't worry. I don't want to get a felony conviction on my record and eliminate the chance of seeing her again when Fidel is gone. I just want to get away for awhile."

Ross talked to me a little, probably to make sure I was sincere about not trying to sneak back into Cuba. When he was convinced I wasn't going to try something stupid, he told me to have a nice trip.

I booked a flight to Miami that afternoon and left the next week.

In Miami, I picked up a rental car and drove down Highway 1. The road headed south, then west. Leaving the mainland, I drove down the causeway from island to island, heading for the end of the road. When I finally reached Key West, after four and a half hours of driving, I took the left fork in the road. I threaded my way along the south coast towards South Beach. At the corner of South and Whitehead streets, I parked the car. I took off my shoes and socks, and walked across the warm sand to the edge of the water. I had arrived at the southernmost point of the United States. I could drive no closer to Felicita than I was right now.

I looked just slightly west of south, out to sea. In that direction, Cuba was only ninety miles away. It was over the horizon; I could see only water. In my mind, I could see over the horizon to a city skyline. I saw the streets and, on the street, a yellow taxi driven by a brown-haired girl. I stood there, feeling the gulf waves lapping at my feet as sunset approached. I was imagining the seawall along the Malecon. I was holding Felicita in my arms as we watched the sunset together. I stood there until the sun dipped below the water. I stretched out my arms. Tears ran down my cheeks as I thought of the woman who was out of my reach.

"I'm coming back, Felicita," I said to the waves as darkness fell around me. "I'm coming back. After Fidel."

The End

Epilogue

Well, here we are at the end, dear reader. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Felicita taught Christopher how to love. Now he has to make use of that knowledge. As I was writing the story, I wanted Christopher to have a happy ending but I knew it wasn't possible in the timeframe ofHavana Club. We leave our hero now on the lonely sands of Key West.

I'd like to publicly thank two friends, MrSpock and Terry Steyaert. It is because of the dedication and work of these two that you don't find more errors in my stories. They have provided countless hours checking each chapter before you read it. I am very grateful for their help.

Is this the end of Christopher's story? No, there is more, but he will have to suffer first in loneliness, just like his namesake, the patron saint of travelers, taxi drivers and bachelors. Like Christopher, we will also have to wait because I'm going to take a short break now. I need to tend to some real life duties, and I want to write a few other short stories. We will share in his anticipation. In about a month or two, I will continue Christopher's tale. I will announce the posting of the first chapter in Nick Scipio's forum and on ASSTR in the Spotlight section. Will Christopher find happiness? Yes, in time. Will it be with Felitica? Well, in the immortal words of the great Nick Scipio, "you will have to read to find out." Many things can change over time. One thing, though, is certain. Remember the last sentence of the story. You will see it again.

Strickland83

June 2004

The End

This story is Copyright © 2004 by Strickland83. All rights reserved.