Caribbean Passion Ch. 16

Pablo took Lucia to his cabin, one of the few non-shared cabins on the ship's First Deck. Lucia had one as the Social Hostess. Pablo happened to get one because there was no other male dancer.

"Listen, Pablo!" cried Lucia. "It's great that you got me out of there but I don't need you starting a fight!"

"He was getting nasty and things could have ended up that way," remarked Pablo. He was sitting on his bed, while Lucia stood near him, hands on hips.

"Maybe they already have," continued Lucia.

"What did you expect me to do?" asked Pablo. "Just let him continue insulting you?"

"You could have just grabbed me and got out like we did, without having to do that first," explained Lucia. "Ignore him!"

"Fine," said Pablo. "I could have done."

"I don't want violence, Pablo," said Lucia, calmly. "I don't know what background you come from, but that wasn't OK. I know Ramon was out of hand but now we could have major problems."

"You don't know my background?" said Pablo. "I think you do."

"Well, maybe it was OK in a sex club or on the streets of the favelas but it's not OK any more and especially not with me."

"Listen, Lucia -- I was protecting you!"

"I know! Thanks! I'm grateful -- I know you meant well! I just don't want a repeat of this!"

"I -"

"I mean it. I felt so inspired today when we talked about dreams, passion, our vision -- the stuff I want to do with my life, your stuff. Fighting's not included in that, Pablo. If that's what you've got to offer, I don't want it."

"I mean -"

"NO. I don't want a violent boyfriend, either."

"You won't get one."

"Well, I got one tonight. How do I know you won't do that to me?"

"I would never do that to you -- or any woman."

"I've got your word for it -- but no proof yet. Think about it. Look at the size of you. I'm not the kind of woman who puts up with this macho garbage. I won't be a wilting wallflower or be a nice, little traditional Hispanic woman, cooking and cleaning and popping out brats for you."

"I never thought of that."

"Maybe not -- but plenty of men from where we come from do. Women are being killed as we speak all across South America -- just for being female - and you wanna know why I'm here in America? I've been blessed so far -- Jorge was a good guy, plus I've been with some cool dudes who were chill and treated me right. Ramon was one of them -- for a while. He never drank in front of me before. Now I know better."

"Lucia -- I didn't mean -"

"Well, face it, Pablo. What are you going to do with yourself in the USA? What worked in Colombia won't work here. You can't do here what guys could get away with there."

"I had no intention -"

"Intentions aren't good enough. The fact is, Pablo, a lot of Hispanic guys arrive in the States, realise they're outnumbered by the Anglos, then start getting defensive about their culture and how things were in "the old country" and the first ones to suffer are the women. Is that your plan? Feeling 'stressed', are we? 'Under pressure'? Feel like lashing out?"

"NO."

"Perhaps Carmen was right. It's best you stick together, keep the culture going, just so you can survive. Don't worry about me -- I can survive all by myself. That's why I have dreams, passion, a vision -- a life. I don't need my own culture. I've got my education. Carmen thinks I'm middle-class. Yeah, well, maybe I am. I'm not afraid to explore new cultures, meet new people, try new food, see new places. I thought for a moment you weren't, too. Maybe I was wrong."

"Lucia -"

"So decide. Come with me on my adventures -- it'll be cool, I'm sure; or carry on acting like the macho tough guy from the mean streets of Medellin, join Carmen and Estella in their noble fight to keep Hispanic culture alive in a land that doesn't care. In which case, see you later." Lucia abruptly opened the door and left, letting it slam behind her.

"Lucia!" yelled Pablo. He looked at the back of his cabin door for a few moments, then suddenly snapped to attention. Wow, he thought. He wasn't angry -- well, at himself a little, but not at her. He thought for a moment. He had thought he was defending her honour, keeping her safe, neutralizing a threat, getting Ramon away from her. Surely, Ramon had been surly and unpleasant, thanks to those empty bottles on the floor. He thought Lucia would be happy to be safe in his arms. She wasn't. What she had seen was an example of typical guy stuff, decided she didn't want it, then told him directly to his face how she felt about it.

She had the right to worry about it. It was true -- women had it rough all across his home continent. He knew why Lucia was worried that he might be the same. Pablo thought about Carmen. If she'd been abused at such a young age by her dad, why did she continue to uphold the culture? Meanwhile, Lucia, who had not been abused, didn't feel threatened by being in a new country and wanted to explore even more. What WAS that? Education? Class? Different language? Feeling independent in the land of the free? Too many issues to deal with, thought Pablo. What he did know was this -- Lucia was intelligent, free-spirited, believed in herself and knew what she wanted. Pablo suddenly realised that if he wanted that, too, he would need to seriously ace up his game.

Lucia returned to her cabin. Flopping on the bed, she thought about Pablo. She had gone a little harder on him than perhaps was strictly necessary, she thought. However, the violent scene with Ramon had spooked her. She had given him the hard word, secretly hoping it would scare him enough that he didn't do it again, plus inspire him to get better. She knew he had told the truth about not thinking about all that stuff about Hispanic culture -- he had done it to protect her out of the goodness of his heart. However, she didn't want to invite any "manly" behaviour that wasn't directly concerned with sexing her up or turning her on. There was a place for manly, dominant behaviour, and this wasn't it. She thought of Carmen and Estella, and Carmen's attitude of Hispanics sticking together. Suddenly, she remembered Estella's decision to dance with Pablo to protect her from Carmen. Hmmm, she thought. Had she gone too far?

Ramon Melita finished his set. It was 2am. He had his eye on that pretty American woman over there, sitting on one of the sofas in the Disco. She was tall, thin, with long, brown hair tied up in a ponytail, a casual white blouse and culottes. She looked cute. He would show that muscled-up meathead Pablo how to seduce women. It was true he was drunk -- too much tequila tonight. He staggered out of the DJ Booth and approached the woman. "Hey, babe," he began. "What's your name?"

She stood up and looked at him. He was obviously drunk. "Are you the DJ?"

"That's right, beautiful," replied Ramon.

"Thanks for the great music."

"Any time," said Ramon. "You look hot, babe -- fancy going somewhere?"

She took one look at him and instantly decided the negative. "I think you've had a little too much to drink," she said. "I'm going back to bed."

"Take me!" cried Ramon, lunging forward. "Kiss me!"

She pushed him back. "Get away from me, creep," she cried. "I'm not in the mood to have my vacation ruined. You're a member of staff, aren't you? I think it's time to end your contract!" With that, she swung her arm, punching Ramon across the face. Down he fell, in an untidy heap on the floor.

"Hey, I didn't do anything!"

"Yes, you did. It's your word against mine. I'm a passenger, so guess who's going to be believed?" With that, she walked off.

Ramon groaned, leaning his head on the floor. He lost consciousness.