Love Story In 'P' Minor

I pulled my shades down to gaze into the beautiful Havana sunset. “Welcome to Cuba”, the flight attendant said as she did her customary goodbye wave. I’d been listening to a folk medley on my CD player for the whole flight; now the culture was about to change.

I settled into my little motel room, sat in the bed a bit watching the leaves breezin’ pass my window. Eventually I went to see the carnival that was in progress. In the lobby was a beautiful picture of the coastline with the caption ‘Mi Tierra’ below it. I knew I was going to enjoy this trip…

Or was I? As I was steppin’ out the front entrance I watched the locals running pass the motel entrance, screaming something about a murder. The police were going towards the area to investigate. Obviously, I was not going that way. I went in the direction of the crowd and toward the music. A cool, mellow old tempo circulated from the sound system speakers. Everyone was jammin’ in the streets, and so I joined in. What a workout it was! Right then I heard a snap, a click, and then a thud, and as I turned I saw a beautiful Latino on the ground; her shoe heel had broken. I helped her up.

“Wow, that was embarrassing” she said in the gentlest of accents.
“That’s the way it is sometimes”, I replied.
“Marisa”
“Adrian”, I said, wishing my name sounded more tropical.

I almost said goodbye then, in an effort to not pry open Pandora’s Box. But I went for it; perhaps it was human nature- she was gorgeous. We continued to speak. She was 22 years old, from Ipanema Beach, Brazil. She was on vacation in Cuba, while trying to sing her way to a record deal. I tried impressing her with my limited Spanish: “I’m from la isla bonita de Jamaica”, I stuttered out. She smiled and chuckled. Somehow we were instantly captivated by each other. We left the streets and chatted our way to a museum. I didn’t care much for the displays there; I just wanted to be in her company.

We went to the beach and sat there ‘til sunrise. ‘Bamboleo’ played some distance away as the carnival neared its end. The atmosphere was just perfect. I was in the mood to hold her close and… but I couldn’t, not so soon. She looked at me as if to say ‘if you won’t do it, I will.’ She kissed me. It was… unforgettable. For a few minutes I sat silent, content.

“I want to sing for you one of my favourite songs.”
“Any chance I’ll know it?”
“Maybe. It’s called La Luz. Oye como va.”
“That’s a long title,” I responded in my ignorance. She laughed:
“No, ‘oye como va’ means ‘hear how it goes’.” And she sang to me, and I was swept away.

We went back into town. “The carnival is over, it’s time to go,” she whispered, reluctantly. “Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked nervously. “Who knows, maybe you’ll see me tonight,” she responded. Who would have guessed that a girl from Ipanema Beach could have gotten me so smitten. “I will see you later, whether I’m dead or alive,” I replied with almost too much satisfaction. I walked back to the motel asking myself, “Is this love?” Only time would tell.

It took only one night, but Marisa had put a real move on my heart.