Before Night Falls (Antes Que Anochezca)

Trees have a secret life that is only revealed

to those who are willing to climb them.

I do not remember when I was born.

But, when I was three months old,

my mother returned to my grandparents' home

with me as the proof of her failure.

The splendour of my childhood was unique,

because of its absolute poverty, and absolute freedom...

out in the open,

surrounded by trees, animals, and people

who were indifferent toward me.

Reinaldo!

Reinaldo!

Child, hurry with that water, God!

Wait in this house!

My early life was surrounded by a room full of unhappy women

who were all bossed around by my grandmother,

the heart of the house,

the only woman I ever saw who peed standing up

and talked to God at the same time.

My mother was a very beautiful and very lonely woman.

She had only known one man, my father,

and had enjoyed the pleasures of love for only a few months

and then, gave that all up for the rest of her life,

creating in her a great sense of frustration.

Her chastity was worse than that of a virgin.

Motherfucker!

Outta here!

Animal!

Motherfucker!

Bastard!

The most extraordinary event of my childhood

was provided by the heavens.

Water rushed down gutters,

reverberating over the zinc roof like gunfire

a massive army marching across the trees,

overflowing, cascading, thundering into barrels,

a concert of drums,

water falling on water,

drenched and whistling and out of control,

and under the spell of violence,

let loose that would sweep away almost everything in its path.

Trees, stones, animals, houses.

It was the mystery of destruction.

The law of life.

As I saw it,

the currents were roaring my name.

Flowers have reproductive organs.

Class, can anyone tell us what the male

reproductive organ is called?

Reinaldo?

Reinaldo?

A dick. A long, skinny dick.

Don't ask her where she comes from.

Can't you see she is from the garden

and the most beautiful flower of them all?

Good evening, excuse me...

Señor Fuentes, I didn't mean to disturb your dinner.

What did he do?

No, he didn't do anything wrong.

I came here to tell you that Reinaldo has a special gift.

What special gift?

He has a sensitivity for poetry.

After that, my grandfather sold the farm

and moved the family to Holguín,

opened a grocery store,

and refused to speak to any of us.

Holguín was a town of 200,000 people

and one garbage truck.

The rebels are in Velasco.

We can walk it in a day.

Okay.

We'll leave tonight.

Very well.

You think you can do it with her?

My name is Reinaldo. What is yours?

Loly.

- Would you like to dance? - Sure.

What do you want? You are very young.

Join the fight.

Radio Rebelde, broadcasting from the mountains of East,

from the Sierra Maestra,

free territory of Cuba.

Radio Rebelde here.

Where are you going, kid?

- Up the road. - Up the road where?

Velasco.

Velasco? You are not from Velasco.

I am from Velasco. Why do you go to Velasco for?

Ah, the rebels are in Velasco.

You going to join the rebels?

Your mama know you are going to join the rebels?

No.

No.

Where she is?

She's in Miami, working.

Would you like to see?

It's upside down.

Nice.

You want to hit things?

Sometimes I like to hit things.

My mother, she has a store in Velasco.

Before that it was my grandmother's store,

and before that, it was her mother's store.

I have six brothers.

They all want to join the rebels.

The second one, he joined the rebels.

I'm the middle one, I don't join the rebels.

Get that for me.

Go home.

The rebels are no more in Velasco.

Go on, get off.

Get off!

What? What?

Long live Fidel!

Viva Fidel!

Cuba libre!

It's all for today.

Spaziva!

As my mother smacked me, she cursed

and yelled, "Maldito! Bad seed!"

She shouted at the sky, "I want to get out of here."

But I really wasn't sure that's what she wanted.

But now standing over me

she looked like a huge tree trunk.

And if it didn't hurt so much, I'd get down on my knees,

and ask her to smack me again, even harder.

Then she became beautiful.

How pretty she is in her skirt made out of a sack

and the blouse she stole from her sister.

I wanted to get up and beg her forgiveness.

I wanted to say, "Mom, how pretty you are today.

You look like one of those women

that you can only see on Christmas cards,"

but I said nothing because of the knot in my throat.

That was very nice. What's your name?

Reinaldo Arenas.

Who wrote this?

I did, it's my own-- from my novel.

What do you call this novel?

"Singing from the Well."

Are you a student?

Yes, I'm an agricultural accountant.

Tell me, do you think you'd feel at home

working in the national library?

The pay won't be very much.

But I can promise you that you'll have all the books

you could ever hope to read.

I would like that very much.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Oye, need a lift?

I want to go down to Guayanos.

Get in.

Hello.

You like it, right?

It used to belong to Errol Flynn.

You don't believe me?

Look in the glove compartment.

Be careful, huh?

Do you want to go to the movies with me?

What?

Do you want to go to the movies with me?

- I'll get out here! - Oh, Hell!

You got a flat ass anyway!

Come on boy!

You'll see him tomorrow.

Get out!

Stupid!

...last Saturday night I made 100 pesos

for letting 10 members of the National Ballet

suck me off.

Doesn't that make you a fag?

If you do it for money, you're not a fag.

You know him?

No.

Hello.

I'm sorry about the other day.

No, don't worry. Forget it.

- I am Reinaldo. - I am Pepe.

- How about some ice cream? - Yes!

Today they have only vanilla.

Bring him a banana split with pistachio.

One ice cream!

Go.

So where you from, Reinaldo?

I am a guajiro, from Oriente.

- Does it matter where I'm from? - No.

What do you do?

I just got a job now in the National Library,

but I would like to be a writer.

You poor thing.

A country boy in Havana to serve the Revolution.

- Where's your mother? - En la bodega.

Give me the key.

Chau.

Vamos!

She says it works,

just one key is a little off.

How can I thank you?