Jorge Milanes Despaigne
Walking through the entryway of the old Aldama Palace, situated to one side of Fraternity Park in Havana, it’s customary to see “card throwers” seated on the curb trying to make some money.
My friend Lucia knows how to throw cards. She told me that she was going by that area one time on the way to do some shopping when a “fortune-teller” invited her to sit down and to be polite she accepted.
The unknown woman threw the cards, looked down at them fixedly, and told Lucia, “There appears to be a trip to distant lands on your path, and very soon.”
“Really, you’re kidding. And when would that be?” Lucia asked in a sarcastic tone.
The woman continued placing the cards on the sidewalk. Suddenly, making several cracking sounds with her mouth, she began to shake her head like someone who had made a bad prediction. She closed her eyes and blathered some more words with her mind focused on a certain card. She seemed to be in trance and calling on a divinity.
“Oh Christ! But you’re not going thanks to that man. Who is he? – your husband?” she asked Lucia.
“I don’t know,” my friend responded.
“Well, here I see this mulatto —kinda short but strong willed— who has this other woman, at least he seems to. She’s with him and…”
Is that so! I’m just finding out now through the cards. And what else do you see there?
Do you have some kind of problem with your right leg?
“No, not even God wants that,” Lucy responded, a little angrily.
The fact is that her husband’s the one who has the problem, but she doesn’t tell her, because it’s the fortune teller who has to see it, not her.
The woman continued dealing the cards, and suddenly the supposed clairvoyant said to her, “Hey girl! I think it’s going to rain, and didn’t I bring a thing to cover myself… Since this morning I’ve been here and I haven’t made a dime. Could you help me with something?”