OK, Maybe I'll read some more from another piece,
another chapter.
I'll read you--
I think you're going to like this part.
OK.
They should have an index in these books, and they never do.
OK.
[CHUCKLES]
"Once a year, a marlin competition was organized
by the members of the Guayamés Yacht Club.
A golden cup was put on exhibit in a glass case,
to be conferred on whoever caught the largest fish.
Marlin could run up to 1,000 pounds,
and measure anywhere from 6 to 10 feet long.
Alejandro promised abuela Valeria
he would win the competition that year,
and thereby regain some of his lost prestige.
And if he didn't win the competition,
he swore to his friends, laughing, a rum and Coke
in his hand, he was still going to catch
the biggest marlin of all.
His sisters had been spreading false rumors about him
in Guayamés, blaming him for the Plata's bankruptcy,
and accusing him of having pocketed the money from
their lands.
But when the marlin he was looking for finally
swallowed his hook, he was going to prove them wrong.
It would pull his job behind him like a winged charioteer,
and his reputation would be saved.
Whenever tío Alejandro left on one of his trips at dawn,
Clarissa would stand at the window,
shivering in her nightgown, and watch him leave.
Miña knew that intense look in her eyes and cautioned her,
remember, Alejandro nursed at my breast just as you did.
I don't like him any more than you do.
But you are hermanos de leche, as well as hermanos de sangre.
And if you wish him ill, you'll pay for it,
because there's no greater sin on earth than fighting
with one's own kin.
One day, tío Alejandro had been cruising off the north coast
of the island, over the Puerto Rico Trench,
an underwater abyss 25,000 feet deep.
A storm was brewing, and the sea was
churning into a lather, when Alejandro's rod gave a tug.
Alejandro pressed the release button on the fishing reel
to set the line free, and it went
whirring over the water with a screech of an eagle.
He ordered the captain to cut the motor on the yacht,
lurched backwards and forwards for a few minutes
at the mercy of the waves.
Tío Alejandro shaded his eyes and looked towards the horizon.
The sky was as clear as the sea.
Not a single cloud was in sight.
And the fishing line cut a path between sky and sea
like a silver whip.
All of a sudden, in the distance,
a blue winged cleaved the water before plunging back
into the ocean.
Alejandro knew that his moment had come.
He put down his drink and stumbled
to the fishing chair, his friends all gathering
around him cheering.
He sat down, put his feet in the stirrups,
slipped on the halter, and picked up the fishing rod.
The reel was still unraveling at a dizzying speed.
He was using a 100-pound line, and the break
would put an additional 25-pound weight
on the fleeing creature's mouth.
Alejandro knew he had to give the marlin breathing
space, tire him out before he gave the line the first yank.
The beast was large.
He could feel it int the rod, but he
couldn't guess how large.
Alejandro grasped the rod more tightly
and braced his feet against the stirrups.
He struggled with the fish for over 20 minutes,
but the pull was still strong.
All of a sudden, the line went slack,
and Alejandro was sure he had lost the marlin.
Everyone held their breath as Alejandro unbuckled himself
from the chair and went to look over the side, half expecting
to see the monster slide silently from under the boat.
But there was nothing there, so he
sat down and began to reel in the line,
buckling himself up just in case.
Precisely at that moment, the marlin bolted,
and the line got caught in the chair's pivot.
The chair, with Alejandro still in it,
was wrenched over the railing and went flying over the water.
His friends couldn't believe what they saw.
Alejandro, still holding on to the rod, his captain's cap
on his head, and his leg stretched out before him,
as if he were on water skis, a huge wing flying
in front of him.
Then the chair began to sink, with Alejandro still strapped
to it.
Until, at last, the wing took a dive,
and Alejandro still strapped to it.
And Alejandro, chair, fish, and all,
disappeared into the depths of the sea.
Several of Alejandro's friends dove into the water,
but it was too late, and he was never seen again.
Abuela Valeria was destroyed by Alejandro's death.
Abuelo Alvaro's disappearance had been a heavy blow,
but there had been no desperation in her grief.
Alvaro had died of natural causes.
But tío Alejandro's death was different.
He was only 29, and abuela Valeria
was sure he was innocent of the vile rumors that
were going around about him.
She couldn't reconcile herself to the undignified way in which
he had died, and the fact that everyone
was gossiping about it.
The drinking and the carousing that had supposedly gone
on, and the company Alejandro had been keeping,
the spoiled playboys of Guayamés partying it up with
their girlfriends were very difficult to live down.
Abuela Valeria knew what was on everyone's mind,
and yet she sat proudly at Alejandro's wake,
not shedding a tear as the mourners milled and buzzed
around her.
I confess, I admire her for the way she behaved.
I'm sure [AUDIO OUT] went through the Emajaguas's
front door.
But the empty space between her arms,
as she sat in the living room, was all abuela Valeria had
to remember tío Alejandro by."
Thanks.
OK.
[APPLAUSE]
OK.
[APPLAUSE CONTINUES]
Thanks so much for having me here with you
and having invited me to Tucson, I love your city,
and it's been--
I hope I'll be back soon.
I hope I come back and spend some more time.
The Poetry Center is something absolutely fabulous,
so I just congratulate you for having these institutions.
Thank you.
Good night
[APPLAUSE]