On the days when Mariano did not go to work at the pharmacy he liked to go out for a walk around the city and then go to the Plaza de Armas. The streets were packed with people coming and going, on foot, on horseback, on mules or in carts; and there were street vendors everywhere shouting and offering their wares: sweets, fruit, chickens, eggs, octopuses, etc.
With each passing week Mariano had more confidence in Felipe and began to talk to him about his anxiety.
“On the one hand I am happy to be in Cuba, but on the other hand I would like to return to Spain,” confided Mariano.
“You will see that, little by little, you will adapt to Havana. However, for a long time you will continue to miss your family and your land. I know what it feels like to be suddenly uprooted, while still a child,” Felipe replied.“Mr. Sarrá told me something about your exploits. But when exactly did you arrive in Havana?”
“It's better if I tell you from the beginning.”
“I will be happy to listen.”
“When I was about twelve years old, I was separated from my family and deported to an area of the coast located at the mouth of the Congo River. I spent many days locked up in a prison on an island whose name I never knew. Then I was sold to a slave trader. I made a very long trip in which some of my fellow slaves like me died. We were piled up and chained in the hold of the ship. They treated us like animals; they gave us very little food and little water. I miraculously survived by drinking my own urine. In Cuba, a landowner bought me. He owned a large tobacco plantation near Viñales and he was very ambitious. He did not stop buying land and slaves because he wanted to accumulate a great fortune. He had left a town on the Catalan coast many years ago with only the clothes on his back, and he wanted to return rich so that everyone could admire him. However, one of his sons was very different. In secret, he taught me to read and write. When the master died, his son sold his part of the farm to his brother and gave me my freedom. We moved together to Havana in 1870. He married a pretty mulatto woman and paid for my primary studies in a clandestine school since we black people were not allowed to study. He also paid me compensation for all the years of slavery. He is the one who introduced me to Mr. Sarrá. The two were very close friends, and they always spoke Catalan between them. They thought that I only understood Spanish, but I listened and always learned new words from your language. At that time, by reading and listening to the two Catalans, I began to understand the political situation in Cuba. With the money that my former owner's son gave me, I bought a car and two horses - and here I am.”
“It is incredible that you are so well rounded in your education and it pleases me that you know Catalan. I feel privileged to know you!”
Returning home, Mariano shared with him, “Felipe, thank you! With you, I have somewhat lost the fixed idea of returning to Spain. You are kind to everyone, despite what you have suffered. At your side, all unhealthy thoughts evaporate.”
“My philosophy in life is to appreciate what I have and not feel unhappy about how much others have, although I wish there were not so many inequalities. I surround myself with people who like to live and I stay away from conflicts and all those who are selfish and evil.”
“You talk about staying away from conflicts, but from what you tell me you are a supporter of Carlos Manuel de Céspedes. Wouldn't you go and fight for a noble cause like that of the separatists?”
“I support Céspedes' cause, but I would like him to achieve his goal peacefully. Have you read his exciting speech, that of October 1868, in which he proclaimed the freedom of all slaves?” asked Felipe.
“No, but I would like to!”
“I'm going to bring it to you.”
In those days, Mariano began to sleep like a log and at dawn he no longer woke up startled. The memory of the Monday appointment chased away his gloomy thoughts, and when at dusk Felipe's carriage would appear in the Plaza de Armas, he was always happy to hear his voice saying, ”Come on up, Mariano. Let's go for a ride.”
One day, Felipe brought him the “Declaration of the Cry of Yara.” Mariano read it carefully that night and the following Monday he told Felipe, “I have understood that among the main objectives set out in the document, the achievement of total independence from Spain stands out as well as the gradual abolition of slavery in exchange for compensation that will be gradually granted to the landowners. It is very noble that Céspedes gave immediate practical application to the declaration by granting freedom to his slaves and calling them to join the struggle on a level of complete equality with the whites, but his peaceful ideas have disappeared. It seems to me that the text leaves no doubt that his goals for Cuba’s independence from Spain will be pursued with armed struggles. I fear that the poor slaves will be the ones who will suffer the most and it will be difficult for Céspedes to achieve complete equality between whites and blacks in his struggle.”
“It's exactly what I fear. More than five years have passed since Céspedes' uprising. There have been many deaths and the majority are, and will continue to be, black slaves” Felipe said.
“I would like to know more about Céspedes.”
“To know him better you would have to read his poems. I want to recite one of the ones that excites me the most:
Maybe the destiny we build
Be that of stone pushed uphill
Where the word slips again
At the feet of the next poet
Maybe what we realize of the stone above
Be the eternal deciphering of the forgotten trail
Where we will find the precise keys
So that one day the rock takes its place at the top
“I also cannot understand how a poet can take up arms. Everyone says that it is a noble cause - of course it is. But I still think, like you, that it must be achieved peacefully,” Mariano shared.
“I hope it can come to that,” Felipe answered.
Mariano increasingly felt more comfortable with Felipe and considered him a friend. No one knew Felipe’s exact age, perhaps he was not yet twenty years old. However, his wisdom was that of a man who had lived a long time. Felipe was intelligent and determined, but humble at the same time. It gave Mariano confidence and peace because he perceived Felipe’s interest in all human beings. However, as he had promised the pharmacist, on that occasion he did not tell him that he was a fugitive.
The days, the weeks, the months passed quickly without Mariano realizing that the year 1874 was about to arrive. He had not quite gotten used to the hot winter in the Tropics. The Christmas holidays were spent at the pharmacist's house. On the afternoon of December 31, Felipe met him in the Plaza de Armas and for the first time the two friends talked about love.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” asked Felipe. “I hope I'm not being indiscreet with that question.”
“Well, what people call ‘girlfriend', no, not yet,” replied Mariano.
“I do have a girlfriend, her skin is black as coal. She works on a plantation in Viñales and her name is Olivia. Unfortunately, she is still a slave, but I hope she will be free soon. Don't you like Cuban girls?”
“Cuban women bother me, but I am writing to María, the maid of Mrs. Valls. Mrs. Valls was a rich Catalan lady who was traveling with her husband on the ship in which I arrived. Maria looks a bit like my older sister, they have the same name, she is pretty and has a fine character. She writes to me that she feels alone in the middle of the farmland and livestock and that she has a difficult time with her cantankerous owner. I would like to go see her. She lives on a farm in Soroa, southwest of Havana.”
“I will accompany you this spring to the Valls’ farm. And we will take another trip to Viñales. I am trying to buy Olivia from my former owner's son, but even with the help of a white intermediary, so far I have not been successful. They don't want to sell Olivia,” explained Felipe.
The two friends, from the other side of the bay, welcomed the new year, smoking a cigarette and looking at the sea and the city in the distance.
At the beginning of March, Felipe disappeared. His horse-drawn carriage no longer appeared in the Plaza de Armas. Mariano found it very strange and began to ask other coachmen about him, but no one knew Felipe's whereabouts. He feared that Felipe had experienced a mishap, but he soon realized that his disappearance had to do with the death of Céspedes, which took place on February 27, 1874.
“Don't worry about Felipe, he's fine,” said Mr. Sarrá. “He'll contact you. He knows what he's up to. He was right to disappear, because in Havana he was in danger because of his political ideas.”
“Felipe never revealed his plans to me, but I believe that now that Céspedes has fallen, he will try to fight peacefully so that Cuba is free,” replied Mariano.
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