Ganado: a novel

  Pedro smiled and breathed in deeply. “That’s not so bad is it? Did I tell you I really don’t like Luna?”

  Gutierrez walked up to them and ordered a drink, “It was all bound to happen. That little guy is feisty.”

  Men, who were minutes ago ready to lynch Emilio Sastre, were now asking for forgiveness and apologizing vehemently for their doubt.

  Campos and his assistant accommodated themselves at a table and worked with one guajiro at a time to issue the drafts according to the individual contracts. Quintero eyed the settlements and turned to Rodriguez and Sanchez. “My word, men, many of these guys are millionaires and they don’t realize it! I now think that our fair city will get a tennis club and more!”

  They nodded and Eriberto pointed to the line of ranchers. “Look at Luna in the middle of the line. You would think he wasn’t worth a nickel.”

  Pedro hacked and spit to the side. “He isn’t worth a nickel. He could have all the money in the world and he isn’t worth one single nickel. I feel for his poor son.”

  The bartender was busy filling glasses. It was Ofelia’s best day ever, as well. The front door opened wide once more. Galo, Frank, Albergue, Quino and Mulo came into the café to be greeted with lots of hurrahs and applause! People ran over and almost assaulted Galo. Where an hour ago the assault would cause bodily harm, now it was all in the glow of victory. He shook hands with everyone as did the other men, all smiles. Eriberto waved him over and he hugged Galo followed by Quintero and Rodriguez. Gutierrez even stumbled over and slurred he knew Galo was a winner and would come through. He had ganado. He had ‘won.’

  From the corner of his eye, Galo spotted Sastre. He broke loose enough from an embrace and avoided a few interrupters to shake his hand. “I can’t thank you enough Emilio. You’ve been incredibly loyal. We are friends for life!”

  Sastre smiled wide. “Rich friends after this! Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Then Galo looked around and was unable to see, but finally yelled out at full voice. “Where is Luna? Luna!”

  Hidden or trying to hide among the line of guajiros waiting for their turn with Campos, Luna turned towards Galo. “I, I, I am here Galo. You’ve done a great thing. You are a great man!”

  With his booming baritone, Galo did not hold back. “No thanks to you, you lousy double-crossing son of a bitch! All these people waiting for the agents to come to market and you were selling novillos behind their backs and mine, against the contract! You ought to have your balls fed to the pigs!”

  For the first time in a while, the room fell silent once more. The men processed what Galo said. Quintero became animated. He placed his hands on his hips. “Is that right? Well, a few minutes ago he called for everyone to tear his contracts. Look he tore his in half!”

  Luna started to nod his head and to back up. The men near him in the line began to push him and shove him. Others quickly joined in. They grabbed the old bag of wind and threw him out the door like the garbage that he was. Luna’s poor son followed and ran down the street. Galo stood at the door and opened it to find Luna on the ground trying not to lose his torn paper. He took a deep breath and in his deepest baritone booming for all of Camaguey to hear.

  “Chupa cabron!”

  THE END

  Postscript

  On Good Friday, April 6, 1917, the United States of America declared war on Germany. The following day, Saturday April 7, 1917, Cuba followed suit. The price of cattle would increase for the next three years.

  Be on the lookout for the second book of the Bartolo trilogy, Perdido.