Dying Art by Joe Kilgore

Author:Joe Kilgore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature
Publisher: Histria Books
Published: 2022-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

That morning, the two men got up early and went to the Havana harbor to explore the stone encasements of El Morro Fortress. After climbing to the top of the lighthouse that has stood sentinel for over four hundred years, they stared out at the city’s rooftops and down at the waves lapping on the sandy shore below.

“The Spanish built this fort, “ Ernie Beeker said to Tilton, “to give their canons more range. More range meant better protection for the fleet getting repairs, supplies, and whatever else it might need to cross the Atlantic and take its... some would say... ill-gotten gains back to Spain. See right down there,” he said pointing. “They’d even hang a huge chain across the entrance, from El Morro on this side to La Punta on the other. More security, you know.”

“Funny, isn’t it,” Tilton began, “back then they were doing all they could to keep people out. Today they’re doing all they can to bring people in.”

“Apples and oranges,” Beeker replied. “It was the Spanish trying to keep people away from their ships and their cargo. Now it’s the Cubans themselves who need more cargo to come in.”

Looking out at the sun-splashed morning and the colonial buildings in multiple ice cream colors, Tilton was reminded of the country’s own particular population sundae.

“Spanish, Africans, indigenous Indians... you mix all that with colonialism, feudalism, American gangsterism, communism, and Catholicism... no wonder this place looks great from a distance but pretty grimy when you get up close, huh?”

“That’s what most of the world looks like, Tilton,” Beeker responded. “Some places just hide it better than others.”

An hour later they were walking down Calle Hamel in the heart of Havana. All around them giant, abstract murals covered the sides of buildings and towered above the streets. Vibrant colors of blue, yellow, red, and green, proudly shouted their African heritage for all passersby to see. As Tilton and Beeker scanned the public art that encircled them, iconic eyes peered back from one painting after another. Eyes that seemed to follow them as they strolled and looked and talked.

On the way back to their hotel, down a street, up an alley, or around a corner, they would continuously come upon Detroit sheet metal. Some of it parked. Some rolling. A 58 Chevy. A 62 Ford Falcon. A 74 Plymouth Duster. Even an old 55 Buick Roadster. They weren’t the beauties they once were. They hadn’t been restored to their original luster. They were simply painted and tarted-up like old women trying to look young. And hanging from their open windows, both front and back, were actual painted and tarted-up young women trying to look old enough as they plied the trade that economic stagnation, lack of work, chronic shortages of food and essentials always breeds. Tilton wondered as he walked whether it was the repressive system itself, the collapse of capital infusion from formerly well-heeled benefactors like the Soviet Union, or the long-time American embargo that continued to

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.