Page 77
Story: Brutal Knight
People had taken to the streets, traveling in mass waves on foot or in car, if possible, to the graveyard. The mood was grim, made heavier by thetropas de choquewho’d created a barrier around the cemetery, forcing many of the people of Havana to mourn outside it.
Crowds of Cubans wept, falling to the ground, inoracion, clutching their rosaries and praying, not only for the great El Abuelo’s soul but for their own. TheCapitanof thechoqueswas a hard and violent man, and el Abuelo had protected the people from his savage ways.
Knight stood next to theCapitanat the front of the mourners, a solemn look on his face.
Three caskets lined up before him, like omens of doom, waiting to be lowered into the ground. There was no emotion on his face as he stared at his family: Abuelo, Lita, and his own mama. He was officially an orphan.
Many other caskets were missing, respectfully holding off until after today to be buried, with the last one waiting to be shipped to the States.
A bomb had exploded, implanted in the dulce de leche cake. In one fatal swoop, Abuelo’s old enemies from Veracruz killed Knight’s parents and grandparents, plus many others in the community.
A lump formed in my throat when I thought of that night. It should've been the happiest night of my life, having been proposed to by the man I loved with every fiber of my being.
Now, it was luck that we were even alive. Had we not left the main room, ensconced in the back hallway, our bodies could’ve been lined up next to theirs.
And now, Knight was crowded by uncles, cousins, and women, all vying for his attention. I forced my way through them, pushing people out of the way until I made it to his side.
"Knight," I took his hand, speaking quietly, not wanting to interrupt the catholic priest blessing the caskets. “Are you okay?"
He looked so cold, so closed off. A wall of indifference masked his face. I had seen him wear this look before, but never so intently. He didn't look at me, or acknowledge my presence by his side, making my chest ache with pain for him.
He had so much on his shoulders now, I knew that the world expected so muchofhim, but all I cared about washim. His family had closed ranks, and we hadn't had the chance to speak or even see each other since that day. I needed to know how he was doing.
"Tatiana. What are you doing here?” Raul, Knight's uncle and El Abuelo's right hand man, spoke loudly, not caring that everyone around us could hear him.
“I have a right to be here, just like everyone else.” I narrowed my eyes at Raul, though my cheeks burned red with the attention.
It had been a long time since I'd blushed, but I felt the eyes of so many people on me, even the priest.
"Knight?" Raul cocked a head at him.
When Knight didn’t answer, I squeezed his hand tighter, whispering, “I’m here for you.”
His eyes briefly fluttered closed, pain etched in them, but he recovered quickly. “Go with him, Tati,” he bit out, and my embarrassment burned through me. He didn't even look at me, treating me like the stray dog at the dinner meal.
“Come along,” Raul grunted. He was a large, imposing man, and people moved for him quickly.
Letting go of Knight’s hand, I turned away, holding back the sob in my throat. My thoughts tumbled as we made our way from the freshly dug graves and towards the line of empty parked cars.Where was Raul taking me?
The air was sticky with humidity and, as we walked, the rain began to come down in torrents. No one moved to leave, even though we were drenched in seconds--it was Cuba, after all.
Anger and shame burning through me, I followed Raul to the black limousine parked in front. The driver, dressed in a black suit, leaned against the front wheel. A stream of water spilled from his hat but he still managed to smoke a lit cigarette in his hand. As soon as he saw Raul, he flicked it to the ground, stepping on it, then raced to open the door.
"Get inside," Raul motioned with his head at me.
I hesitated, but knew better than to disobey him. Maybe Knight wanted me to wait for him here. He probably shouldn't announce that we were engaged so shortly after the death of his whole family. I didn’t care if people saw us together; I just wanted to be here for him.
Leaning over, careful not to flash him, I tucked myself into the car. Raul pat the roof twice, speaking to the driver. "Take her home."
Home?Not even to Knight’s house?
“Wait." I jumped out, aware that people were staring at us. “At least let me pay my respects.”
“You came. Saw the caskets. That’s good enough.”
“But I want to be with Knight."
Raul shook his head. "That's not happening, Tatiana."
Crowds of Cubans wept, falling to the ground, inoracion, clutching their rosaries and praying, not only for the great El Abuelo’s soul but for their own. TheCapitanof thechoqueswas a hard and violent man, and el Abuelo had protected the people from his savage ways.
Knight stood next to theCapitanat the front of the mourners, a solemn look on his face.
Three caskets lined up before him, like omens of doom, waiting to be lowered into the ground. There was no emotion on his face as he stared at his family: Abuelo, Lita, and his own mama. He was officially an orphan.
Many other caskets were missing, respectfully holding off until after today to be buried, with the last one waiting to be shipped to the States.
A bomb had exploded, implanted in the dulce de leche cake. In one fatal swoop, Abuelo’s old enemies from Veracruz killed Knight’s parents and grandparents, plus many others in the community.
A lump formed in my throat when I thought of that night. It should've been the happiest night of my life, having been proposed to by the man I loved with every fiber of my being.
Now, it was luck that we were even alive. Had we not left the main room, ensconced in the back hallway, our bodies could’ve been lined up next to theirs.
And now, Knight was crowded by uncles, cousins, and women, all vying for his attention. I forced my way through them, pushing people out of the way until I made it to his side.
"Knight," I took his hand, speaking quietly, not wanting to interrupt the catholic priest blessing the caskets. “Are you okay?"
He looked so cold, so closed off. A wall of indifference masked his face. I had seen him wear this look before, but never so intently. He didn't look at me, or acknowledge my presence by his side, making my chest ache with pain for him.
He had so much on his shoulders now, I knew that the world expected so muchofhim, but all I cared about washim. His family had closed ranks, and we hadn't had the chance to speak or even see each other since that day. I needed to know how he was doing.
"Tatiana. What are you doing here?” Raul, Knight's uncle and El Abuelo's right hand man, spoke loudly, not caring that everyone around us could hear him.
“I have a right to be here, just like everyone else.” I narrowed my eyes at Raul, though my cheeks burned red with the attention.
It had been a long time since I'd blushed, but I felt the eyes of so many people on me, even the priest.
"Knight?" Raul cocked a head at him.
When Knight didn’t answer, I squeezed his hand tighter, whispering, “I’m here for you.”
His eyes briefly fluttered closed, pain etched in them, but he recovered quickly. “Go with him, Tati,” he bit out, and my embarrassment burned through me. He didn't even look at me, treating me like the stray dog at the dinner meal.
“Come along,” Raul grunted. He was a large, imposing man, and people moved for him quickly.
Letting go of Knight’s hand, I turned away, holding back the sob in my throat. My thoughts tumbled as we made our way from the freshly dug graves and towards the line of empty parked cars.Where was Raul taking me?
The air was sticky with humidity and, as we walked, the rain began to come down in torrents. No one moved to leave, even though we were drenched in seconds--it was Cuba, after all.
Anger and shame burning through me, I followed Raul to the black limousine parked in front. The driver, dressed in a black suit, leaned against the front wheel. A stream of water spilled from his hat but he still managed to smoke a lit cigarette in his hand. As soon as he saw Raul, he flicked it to the ground, stepping on it, then raced to open the door.
"Get inside," Raul motioned with his head at me.
I hesitated, but knew better than to disobey him. Maybe Knight wanted me to wait for him here. He probably shouldn't announce that we were engaged so shortly after the death of his whole family. I didn’t care if people saw us together; I just wanted to be here for him.
Leaning over, careful not to flash him, I tucked myself into the car. Raul pat the roof twice, speaking to the driver. "Take her home."
Home?Not even to Knight’s house?
“Wait." I jumped out, aware that people were staring at us. “At least let me pay my respects.”
“You came. Saw the caskets. That’s good enough.”
“But I want to be with Knight."
Raul shook his head. "That's not happening, Tatiana."
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