Havana Best Friends Read Free Page B

fractured pipes. Paint is what it needs, badly. But it’s sixteen dollars a gallon.”
    “That’s not too exorbitant.”
    “No, not for you. Probably you make as much in an hour.”
    “More,” Marina admitted.
    “You know what my monthly paycheque is? Fifteen dollars.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “I’m not.”
    “What do you do?”
    “I’m a special-needs teacher.” Elena stole a glance at her watch. “I teach disabled children in their homes. Let’s go back to the men before they accuse us of babbling the night away.”

    It was dark and crickets were chirping happily in the Parque de la Quinta by the time the two couples got into the rented Nissan. Pablo and Elena sat in the back of the car. At the wheel, Sean followed the directions given by the bald man. They had been heading west along Fifth Avenue for two minutes, the Cubans pointing out the sights, when Marina turned round, wanting to learn more about Elena’s job.
    “Well, there are children so seriously incapacitated they can’t attend the special-education schools,” Elena began.
    “Oh, my God,” Pablo moaned in English. “Not tonight.”
    “Some are disabled from birth, some suffered an accident,” Elena, ignoring him, went on. “They are hooked up to some life-support system that’s difficult to carry around, or are quadriplegic. There’s a team of teachers to teach them at their homes. I’m one of them.”
    “Isn’t your job … a little depressing?” Marina asked, after interpreting for Sean.
    “Not to Mother Teresa,” Pablo butted in. “Turn right at the next light, Sean.”
    “Okay. But let me hear how your sister makes a living, please?” Sean said in a dry tone.
    Marina shot a quick glance at Sean. Pablo sulked. Elena had trouble suppressing her smile. She hadn’t understood Sean’s words, but his tone spoke volumes.
    “Contrary to what almost everyone believes, it’s rewarding,” she went on. “These kids are the happiest kids on Earth. They act as if nearly everything happens for their personal delight. They see you come in, it’s like a fairy godmother came in to wave her magic wand over them. And being in daily contact with them, seeing their parents trying to conceal their suffering, makes you realize how much we healthy people take for granted, how petty most of our problems are.”
    “How many children do you teach?” Marina asked.
    “Two. A nine-year-old boy in the mornings, an eleven-year-old girl in the afternoons.”
    “All the subjects?”
    “All except for physical education.”
    “Who pays for it?” Sean wanted to know.
    “The Ministry of Education, of course.”
    Sean was staring at the red light, his foot on the brake pedal. “She makes fifteen dollars a month,” Marina told him.
    “What?”
    Elena smiled mirthlessly. “Low salaries make many things possible. If Cuban teachers and doctors made half the money their colleagues make in Mexico, Jamaica, or any other Latin American country, the government wouldn’t be able to provide the health care and education it does.”
    “Green light,” Pablo said. “Take a right on the second corner.”
    Marina finished the translation after Sean rounded the corner.
    The two-storey mansion surrounded by a cyclone fence appeared to be in perfect condition, no mean feat considering that its backyard fronted onto the sea. On its covered front porch there were four wooden rocking chairs, several flower pots, andan iron-and-glass lamp hanging from the ceiling. From the roof, spotlights flooded a small, well-tended garden. An old man standing by the driveway entrance swung back the gate to a garage and waved them in. After pulling the garage door closed, he silently welcomed the foursome with a series of nods and a smile, then pointed to a small door.
    Pablo went in first and found his way to the dining area of a vast space, but he kept strutting – the others in tow – until he reached the lounge section. A plump, bejewelled, and perfumed white woman