IT WAS THE LAST DAY OF THEIR FOUR-WEEK HONEYMOON in Havana. Inside their luxurious suite in Hotel Nacional, the young Masterson couple, after their morning swim, started packing up their suitcases for their trip back home to New York. While packing, they continued sipping room-service dulce de leche, playfully dancing to piped music, exchanging kisses and laughter and more kisses, until falling into each other's arms once again, they ended up in bed.
In the afterglow of their last in Cuba, Sky Masterson and his bride Sarah, languidly exchanged fluffies and quiet laughter, and tenderly gazing ever more into each other's eyes, as their song went.
"Ah… Every day, what a dream. Swam in early morning, danced in the evening, and made love all night long! Glorious, glorious love! I want to make love with you all the days of my life, Sky Masterson," Sarah said dreamily.
"If I can keep up with you," her bridegroom replied, somewhat self-deprecatingly, for he is actually a very handsome, studly guy at 30, on the athletic side, and only four years older than his vivacious bride.
She continued, "It has been absolutely sublime. Sight-seeing. looking at historical sites and highland gardens and churches; a trip to the beach; naming tropical flowers and fruits," Sarah continued. "And coming home to the elegant Hotel Nacional, once more to make love! I never knew I could exchange my mission life for this."
"If you say so," Sky replied lazily, smiling with his eyes closed. "But we must move on. We have a plane to catch to New York."
Sarah wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and said, "I know the honeymoon can't last forever. But whether it's Havana or New York does not matter, does it? It's you being with me that matters. You're the most gorgeous guy there ever was - I know this to be true, even if I've never seen a man's body before and will never see another. I bet there's nobody else as gorgeous and as wonderful for me to love."
"Oh, I see. I think the reason my beautiful bride is so delightfully in-heat is the dulce de leche again," Sky kissed her nose, "I hope you did not forget I've also been gambling?"
"No, I did not. But yesterday I also visited a parish mission where they have this fabulous program of ministering to troubled women," Sarah said lying on her side. She propped her head up with her elbow to better look at her husband's face. "Some ladies-of-the-night, a few pregnant unwed mothers, and mostly poor women with undernourished children, they'll break your heart.
"You know, I was thinking it's the kind of program that General Cartwright suggested we implement in Save-A-Soul. I have a very devoted and competent staff and a group of volunteers to help with a project like that, so I know it can be done."
"The foxes have their dens and the birds of the air have their nests…" he whispered.
"Luke 9:58?" replied Sarah.
"Seriously, Sarah. Soon, we may have to start thinking where to live and how to live normally together," Sky said, suddenly alert.
"I believe it can be done, anytime, anywhere, anyhow," she replied airily. "I'm not worried about where to set up housekeeping with you. You're an itinerant gambler and I'm an itinerant gambler's wife. So we can travel the country's underside together and never settle down.
"I will live with you wherever you live, whether in various hotels with just a few changes of clothing, or a house in the suburb or a ramshackle flat on Broadway, doesn't matter." She continued, "I can still hear church bells ringing and the way you ranted that night we were in the church garden."
"Again, please?"
Sarah sighed impatiently like a child, then started chanting Sky's own words from memory, "The bells really rang, they really rang. They weren't magical bells for lovers full of rum and music in a make-believe island. They rang to tell us what time it is."
Sky laughed out loud, remembering, "And you knew what time that was!"
"Sure. I've been ready for it since the beginning," replied Sarah, "That was why we've been slowly decompressing toward normal and glad of it. Haven't you been attending your usual citizens' convention, sweetheart? Haven't I been over to the Havana mission branch several times to help with their projects? Normal activities." Then she whispered conspiratorially, "And how did you do at the craps table, Mr. Masterson?"
"Oh, paradise!" he said, opening his arms in broad gesture. "For four weeks, I gambled in green pastures. The doll bride on my bed was agreeable, with nice teeth, and carries my last name," he laughed, pulling her onto his chest. "And how has it been with you, Mrs. Masterson?"
"We'll, let's just say since we've been up on Cloud 9 long enough, it's time we got back down to earth. Honestly, it's gotten too interesting, I can't wait to be in New York. I miss my own mission."
"I gather there has been something less than agreeable?"
"It's all right, Sky. Everything has been all right," Sarah sat up, looking down at him intently. After a while, she said quietly, "You know the Cuban girl I fought with in El Café Cabana the first time we were here?"
"Did I know her?"
"She was in the packed mission I visited yesterday. She recognized me and gave me a hard, hysterical tongue lashing that was supposed to humiliate me in public. Luckily, it was all in Spanish, so I understood none of it."
"What!" Sky was shocked and had to sit up, "What happened? Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry!"
"Well, it seemed she wanted a second round of the fight. With you as the prize, I supposed. We could have come to blows, but I remembered I am just a guest in this country, and you're just a complicated man, who already belonged to me, anyway. So I walked away," spoke Sarah nonchalantly.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I may have known her in the past, but I honestly can't remember." he replied, throwing his head back on the pillow.
"Uh, huh."
"On the other hand, I know of many Cubans right now who are looking to hook up with any Americans at all, just so they could come to the US and escape the bloody political and economic wars now going on in these parts," explained Sky, ponderously. "Probably why she tried to lure me back. I'm sorry, Sarah, but she was before I knew you, before I fell in love with you. And I'm truly sorry," he sighed.
"And you were such a chump," Sarah said plainly.
"So I was."
"I believe you," Sarah said sweetly. "I believed you, even at the time we were in the church garden. Even then I knew you were a most complicated man. All your 'day-time and night-time and rule-books' rant ought to have brought this drunken doll back to her senses, but I knew even then what I was doing."
"Okay, tell me," said Sky, softly stroking her arm.
"Operating under the principle that all is fair in love and war," Sarah said, "I was determined to win you every which way."
"And you didn't flinch when I said I took you here for no other reason but to win a sucker bet," Sky added.
"Any other doll under your spell would have taken that as an insult." Sarah cried mockingly, "Why, oh, why did you not ravish me right there and then? I was practically raping you and you remained unmoved. Was I not ravishing enough for you?"
"You realize how funny that sounds today?" laughed Sky, pulling his wife closer for a kiss. "Did it ever occur to you, at that time, that you were propositioning a gambler? A virtuous young lady with a shining-white soul who preaches against gambling, was propositioning a gambler?"
"It was more than that. I was competing against something mysterious. I saw how you went all out to steal a kiss, stalk the mission band, hide in the back room, stake a dozen genuine sinners on the line, and take a prissy mission doll to the den of iniquities called Havana. All for what?"
"All for a bet of $1,000," replied Sky.
Sarah went on, "I somehow felt it wasn't just me. So I decided to get in on the game instead of just being the object of it. And I decided that the prize I must win was you. As it turned out, I was the bigger gambler."
"See, I was not all that complicated. You figured me out," he said.
"But as I said, I've known quite a few complicated men in my life," she continued. "My own Dad and my brother Joe, both ruined by wine, women, and song at one time or another. My cousins Tony and Dan, and a few other boys I knew from childhood in Boston – wine, women and song ruined them. I've promised myself if I ever got involved with such a man, I'd know exactly what to do."
"What?"
"Oh, I might just weep till my eyes bleed, and let my heart break into smithereens, and be a martyr pining for lost love for the rest of my life. But believe me, such a man will regret it. I can fight back, you know."
"How?" asked Sky, wondering if he's got cider in his ear.
Suddenly, Sarah crumbled on his chest and began to cry, "No, darling, I'm sorry, I take it all back." Then she burst out sobbing, "I'm sorry, I was just jealous!"
Sky, feeling relieved, stroked her hair, and rocked her gently in his arms, until she calmed down.
After a long while, he asked, "Sarah, where did you learn how to throw a punch?"
"In convent school."
"Convent school!? I didn't know you were…"
Sarah smiled, "No, silly, not at all. I went because Mom wanted me to be educated as a lady and there were only two exclusive girls' schools nearby: a Catholic convent school and an Adventist boarding school," she explained, "The Catholic one was cheaper, and they served meat during meals, except on Fridays. So I was sent there.
"And you learned how to box in a convent school?" Sky still couldn't believe it.
"Why not? There we were taught to love the Gospel, chant Gregorian, and carry ourselves like ladies. I was to become a self-reliant, educated and polished lady, a gracious lady."
"Okay, now I'm beginning to understand," Sky said, "or perhaps not?"
Sarah went on, "I learned hand-to-hand combat, especially in the dorms. I learned how to throw not just the right and left hooks, but also the jab, the uppercut, the one-two, the cross, and variations of those. Although with the usual things between girls, all we did was a lot of yelling and screaming, a two-hand push, maybe; clinches, hair-pulling, scratching, and the occasional kick on the leg."
Sky took a deep breath and marvelled, "Amazing, just amazing!"
"I got suspended by the nuns a couple of times for being rowdy. The last time I didn't go back because Mom was very sick. I became her caregiver until she died," she said.
"So Uncle Arvide told me, and I'm sorry." Sky replied.
"Not long after that, my brother Joe got married. He and his wife, also named Sarah, now have two little boys whom I adore. But they have their own life to live. So when Dad, too, remarried, I thought I'd have a little adventure myself, and came to New York, to join Uncle Arvide in Save-A-Soul," related Sarah.
"And I'm happy you did, or I'd have never known you," replied Sky.
"You weren't too bad a punch, yourself. So where did you learn how to fight?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know. The school of hard knocks, I guess." he answered, "It just developed naturally, just by getting into a lot of fights. I hang out with Titanic Thompson and a very old Bat Masterson - no relations - mostly in Arkansas and Missouri and learned a lot of life skills from them. Did the tiniest amount of legal schooling, thinking at one time of becoming a marshall, intermittently self- educating by correspondence, and did some readings in Latin. In between gambling bouts, of course."
"Fascinating! Was that how you got associated with Damon Runyon, too?"
"Yes, he and Bat dabbled in journalism, with Runyon getting stuck in it."
"And you?"
"I went into gambling. A masterson of arts degree, major in gambling. And did very well, too, my Daddy was so proud. Still do, but it can change. I hope you'll stick with me, through sink or swim, Sarah." Sky looked at his wife with a hopeful smile, "Will you?"
"Well, not knocking down the smartest, most gorgeous gangster of all, who has an impressive knowledge of scripture, and law and ethics, but," Sarah continued breathlessly, "Why did you not become a marshall? Or a preacher, a lawyer, a prizefighter, a buffalo hunter, a professional golfer, a grave digger, a gunfighter, a diplomat, or a newspaper man?"
"Or a tinker, tailor, soldier, spy? To be honest, I didn't care for the cut in pay," he said. "But that can change if we were to settle down, now that you're with me, whom I promised to love, honor, and obey."
"Do you carry a gun?" Sarah asked pointblank.
"I own one, yes. Maybe more."
Sarah kissed her husband on the cheek and said, "I'm your wife and I love you as you are, Sky. When I said I was prepared to be the toughest doll to the toughest and smartest gangster and highest roller of them all, I meant it."
"Except when it came to protecting the sanctity of the mission," Sky reminded her. "And I was awed by how you grieved upon learning it had been violated by gamblers, even to the extent of giving up on me, if I had erred," said Sky.
He continued, "Don't get me wrong, I loved you even more for it. I know the mission is your baby and that only showed how good a mother you'd be to any children God may bless us with. I promise I'd be a partner to you, through thick or thin. I'll be the best of fathers to them when they do come."
Then Sky rose up from the bed, pulling Sarah up with him, "Okay, then, up and at 'em. Let's better finish packing and go back to New York where we belong. Say goodbye to Havana, because within one or two years, maybe sooner, Cuba, as we know it will be no more. It will turn around completely and there won't be any more gambling left to come back to."
"And no more irate Cuban dolls to punch down, either." Sarah added
"A most chumpish comment, if I heard one." Lovingly, Sky gazed into her 100% eyes and sighed, "Listen, my darling wife doll, henceforth, you will be the only doll for me. And for God's sake, stop bringing up the matter of fake gold watches to Uncle Arvide, if you can help it. Forgive and forget already. I hereby declare all chump matters closed.
"For Uncle Arvide and me, it's just you - until kids start coming. We're family. He has given me your hand, to hold and to cherish. You're all I need, and you're all I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you, Sarah Masterson."