Did you ever hear someone say this? … I bet you have!!! In Spanish we have one that goes something like… “May He Bless Them, But not Multiply Them…!”
This is the story… well… perhaps an anecdote… of Paco and
his Paramour… Although a bedside story, is not one of those you might read your
children to put them to sleep…
It was many years ago, somewhen in he 1950’s, in a
beautiful city on the south shore of Cuba, that I met Don Paco. He was the
scion and head of one of the branches of a very well off family, with big
Holdings in the area of farming and cattle. Paco was the oldest of three
brothers who managed the family business and he, very appropriately perhaps,
was the head of the milking side of the house.
I still remember those delivery trucks, painted a deep,
bright yellow… so yellow and so bright that in one of those sunny Caribbean
mornings you had to look at them from behind your dark sunglasses. In our
island folklore, we refer to any and all cars painted that bright yellow as
“lecheros”… milk trucks… those flashy
folk who today choose to paint their expensive cars this color, don’t realize that
when those of us who come from that island see them cruising, we are just
waiting to see when they are going to make their next stop and deliver a bottle
of milk.
Let’s get back to the story, shall we? ... Paco, as we all
knew him, was a family friend and a constant participant, with his wife
Dolores, in our nightly family “tertulias” (family
and friends pre-electronic-era gatherings to… talk … wow, what a thought!)
which took place at my Great Uncle’s house. There I met him and there I became
acquainted with the story of present interest.
Turns out that Paco, now already into his latter years and
with more than 30 married years to his name, had found himself totally lost and
madly in love with a young lady (we shall
be charitable here, folks) of 25 years of age who was very good at feeding
him but… without really knowing how to cook. She was a beautiful dark hair doll, with all the right
curves in the right places, about 5’6” and … well… very friendly. I am
giving you this information based on my own personal observations and not on
hearsay, having met the aforementioned lady at some point later on..… Paco
rescued her from the “lowly worlds” of exchanging very special favors for money
and food … she came out at least physically, but mentally… she never left that
world. He fed her, put her into a house (along
with her mom) and paid her a salary so she would never have to see anyone
else but him.
I have made, along the way, my share of mistakes and then
some; I cannot be a moral Judge. In our culture, you are called a “cornudo” (cuernos are horns… thereby living the term
“horny” and added dimension) when you partner sees someone else behind your
back. We, the family’s younger generation, gave this young lady the nickname of
“toreta” (female bull… I know… I know…)
because of all the cuernos she gave Paco on a regular basis… besides, we could
refer to her in the middle of the conversations and his wife would be none the
wiser… and better she would not, for she was a head taller than Paco and
probably outweighed him by 40 pounds… Her name, Dolores, means “Pains” and she,
I remember well, had a habit of honoring the essence of her name whenever
possible…
In the company of my cousin, some ten years older than I,
we went to visit la Toreta in several occasions. The immediate friends of my
cousin, who were in on the story line, were given to try the house delights of
said young lady… sometimes behind Paco’s back… sometimes not. After all… Viagra
was still a long way off and a man of 60 or so years found his labors not
enough to quench the fires of an ardent 25 year old young lady… I suppose, in
retrospect, that he thought the inevitable adventurous encounters best be had
with people who were known and whose personal habits were not in question…
I would like to say that all lived happily ever after… but
those endings are best left to fairy tales. The incoming government took over,
as it did with all private business, the ownership of the farms and milk
business. When the field denizens were lost, so was the city bound toreta lost…
Paco could no longer afford to give her the green pastures her heart so desired…
Eventually, he and his family moved to Miami, where I
understand they lived on for a few years full of memories and longings (at least on his part I‘m sure) There he
died peacefully, to be followed by his wife Dolores in a short time… I am sure
somewhere in the ethereal pastures, she is still following him, giving him an
eternal headache…
His Toreta? Never
knew anymore… maybe she stayed in Cuba, maybe she came out… It was a love
story… in a small way, like those that engender those epic tomes which we
sometimes read, and sometimes use as heavy paperweights… In this case? … Just a
little footnote in a not so epic blog.
Be
Well … Be Back!!!
Final Notes:
- Pray for those who are fighting an illness
which may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard,
and counts!!
- Follow us on Twitter …
@RJAsPandora
- Any comments please send to otherboxp@yahoo.com
- “La Otra Caja de Pandora”… The Spanish language Blog… “otracaja.blogspot.com” … Bienvenidos!!!
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