Heading South

A Fishing Trip

SITTING AT THE counter in the Quiesqueya, Tanya orders a cognac.

“How’d it go last night?” asks the bartender.

“I didn’t stay. . I was totally wiped. I went home and was in bed by midnight. Fanfan was exhausted, too. I fell asleep fully dressed.”

“And now?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly rested now.”

The bartender moves to the other end of the counter to serve a customer, a white man with a tall, well-built woman. You couldn’t really call them breasts. They were more like grenades.

“Who’s the guy?” Tanya asks idly.

“He’s the American consul. . A good customer. . He hits on everyone who has a nice ass like yours, or breasts like hers. . You know what I mean? I find the girl he’s with a lot more interesting. She’s superb.”

“Not bad.”

“You call that ‘not bad’? You want me to introduce you to the guy? It could be arranged, you know. .”

“Not right now. . I wonder what you see in her. She’s not as pretty as all that. .”

“Maybe not, Tanya, but have you not noticed her breasts?”

“It’s stupid. Every man I know is completely obsessed with breasts.”

“I can’t speak for all men,” says the bartender, wiping a small puddle of water off the counter, “but for me, breasts drive me crazy.”

“Ah, now I get it,” says Tanya, giving a small laugh. “You want me to leave with the guy so you can console his girlfriend.”

The bartender chuckles.

“It’s all about self-interest. You want another cognac? On the house. .”

He pours her a drink. Tanya stares at the liquid in the glass for a long time. The American has just noticed her presence. He’s given her a brief but intense look. The kind of look that takes everything in. Everything that can possibly be discerned about her, absorbed in a second. Tanya (petite, brunette) is not an earth-shattering beauty. You may not even notice her when she first walks into a room (unlike Simone or Minouche, if you like that type). But anyone who does check her out, even once, cannot refrain from giving her a second look. And a third. And a fourth. Why is this? A special sensuality that informs her skin, her way of moving her body (as though she never stops dancing), and, above all, her eyes. Ah, Tanya’s eyes. Her favourite weapon. When she deigns to turn them your way (with a look that is both sweeping and focused at the same time), you want to hide under the table. Everything she does she does slowly, but with incredible energy! At the moment she has just fired three salvoes at the consul, sitting at the far end of the counter. And here he is, on his way over.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“You’re with someone, I believe. .”

“That doesn’t stop me from being able to buy you a drink.”

“Possibly not, but for your information, I’m not a whore, as you apparently think I am. . Is that how you regard all Haitian women?”

The American backs off slightly.

“I’ve never thought any such thing. .”

“Then why are you so intent on buying me a drink? Do you think I’m too poor to pay for my own drinks?”

“It was just a spontaneous gesture. . I’m like that. . My name is Harry, I’m the American consul.”

“When you are with someone, the polite thing to do is to stay with her. .”

“You’re right,” Harry says brusquely. Everything about him is brusque. He turns and goes back to his seat.

A moment later, the bartender speaks to her. “You practically chased the guy away. I thought you were interested in him.”

Tanya’s ambiguous smile.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“You just kicked his ass for him.”

“It was either his or mine.”

The bartender makes a gesture as though to say he gives up.

“You women, you’re all impossible. Totally impossible.”

“We simply need to defend ourselves,” she says, whimpering slightly.

“When you want someone you’re capable of crawling two hundred kilometres on your hands and knees to get to him. But if we take a single step in your direction, out come the claws.”

“That’s the way it is, Papa.”

“Don’t call me Papa.”

“Okay, Papa.”

He smiles.

“Don’t you want another cognac?”

“I do. And give him the bill,” she says, pointing to Harry.

The bartender’s jaw drops.

“Okay, now I don’t get it. You just refused to let him buy you a drink. .”

Tanya waves her hand as though brushing away an imaginary fly.

“Don’t worry, he’ll pay. He likes paying for things.”

“Whatever you say. If he doesn’t, I’ll cover it myself.”

“Thanks, Papa, but I don’t want your money. I know he’ll pay.”

The young woman with the dangerous breasts gets up and heads for the washroom, taking her purse with her, which suggests she’ll be in there for a while. Tanya waits a moment (long enough to calmly finish her cognac) before following her.

TANYA FINDS HER crying in front of the mirror.

“What’s the matter?” Tanya asks sympathetically.

The woman hides her face in her hands.

“He’s all yours. You can have him. .”

“Who?”

“Don’t make fun of me, on top of everything else. Do you think it’s fun talking to a man who can’t take his eyes off another woman?”

“No, I don’t. But I haven’t laid a finger on your man.”

“That’s why I’m giving him to you.”

“But I don’t want him. .”

The young woman suddenly begins to sob so energetically her breasts bounce up and down as though she’s riding a bicycle down a bumpy street.

“You drove him crazy.”

The two women look at each other in silence.

“What if I tell you it’s you I’m interested in,” says Tanya, calmly.

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” Tanya adds reassuringly. “All I meant was that you touch me, deeply.”

“Thanks,” says the young woman, lowering her eyes modestly.

“Tanya. And you?”

“I’m Florence.”

“Florence, I’m going to make you a proposal,” Tanya says brightly.

The young woman looks up quickly.

“What kind of proposal?”

“How about you and I leave him sitting there, high and dry. We’ll go get a drink somewhere else. . Don’t worry, you never lose a man by dumping him.”

A pause. Then the young woman smiles. Tanya smiles, too.

“Okay. Let’s leave him there. . Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Come on,” Tanya says. “That way. I know another way out.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’ll go to the Hippopotamus. But first I have to stop at my place. It won’t take long.”

“Is it far?”

“No, it’s just across the way. . Whenever I get bored I come here to chat up the bartender. He’s very nice.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Florence asks, naïvely.

“My boyfriends are never nice. . The nice ones are only my friends.”

“Too bad for you. .”

Tanya smiles.

“I like it that way. What about you?”

“Me?” says Florence, a little off balance. “I don’t know. . I don’t know. .”

“Still trying to find yourself?”

“I guess so,” says Florence with a dry laugh.

“Well, we’ll have a drink, and your little fit of depression will just disappear. You’ll see.”

“DARLING!” TANYA CALLS as she walks into the house. “Are you here?”

No reply.

“Where are you, darling?”

“In the bedroom.”

Tanya turns to Florence, who is standing by the door.

“Have a seat for a moment. I’ll be right back. .”

She hurries into the bedroom.

“What are you doing, my dearest? Still sleeping?”

“Get off my back, Tanya.”

“I went out for a drink, darling, while you were sleeping, and you’ll never guess what I’ve brought you.”

“Not another bottle of bloody perfume, I hope. I didn’t even know they sold that shit in the bars around here. .”

“Don’t make fun of me, my love. Tell me this: who, in your opinion, is tall, svelte, has lots of hair and the biggest pair of tits you ever saw?”

Fanfan sits up immediately.

“She’s here?”

“And she’s all yours, if you play your cards right.”

“Where did you reel her in?”

“Her name is Florence, and she is very nice. She cries a lot, and she’s not quite sure what kind of man is right for her at the moment. But that’s just how you like them. .”

“I asked you where you found her.”

“Right across the street. In the bar.”

“You didn’t have to go far, did you?”

“First she and I are going to the Hippopotamus for a drink. You can have her when we get back, if you’re still here.”

“Where else would I be? Why can’t I have her now?”

“You have to wait a while, my dear. . I promised to bring her to the Hippopotamus first. When we come back. .”

“All right, I’ll be here.”

“Don’t be mad at me, Fanfan, dearest. This is the only way I can keep you here for more than two days.”

“Okay, get out of here.”