CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
2007 – Mundo World
That night, I slept like the dead and it was beautiful.
I was in my own room, all alone.
Blessed with pitch black unconsciousness, no dreams. No nightmares.
Kouche.
I heard my mother calling me from downstairs.
“Pierre, Olmando’s on the phone!”
I picked up my Omega from the nightstand and checked the time. It was 9am on a Saturday.
“Okay, tell him to hold on!” I yelled.
I went downstairs to the kitchen. My mom handed me the receiver and then walked out of the room.
“Hello?” I still couldn’t believe Mundo would be calling me so early.
“Cabrón!” Yep, it was Mundo. He sounded animated. “You’re fucking home!!!! How does it feel?”
“Crazy,” I replied. “I can’t believe I’m about to be 33 years old and I’m back in my parents’ house.”
“At least you’re home,” Doe replied. “I’m so glad you’re home, brother!”
Mundo was still living in Panama City and rarely came to the States. He’d pop over to Miami every so often, for business meetings or some luxury shopping, but put a lot of effort into avoiding New York if at all possible. Can’t say I blamed him.
Doe got married a few years ago, to a socially connected former beauty queen who was currently in medical school, studying to be an ophthalmologist. Hopefully she’d be able to see through his bullshit. It was a shame I’d missed the wedding- when he first got engaged, Mundo sent me a letter telling me he’d always assumed I’d be his best man. I sent him one back saying something to the effect of, “don’t worry about it- I can be best man at your second wedding!”
“How’s Gianina?” I asked. I hadn’t met her but Mundo had sent me photos taken at their wedding. She was a knockout, but there was a look in her eyes that let me know she’d be more than able to hold her own against my crazy-ass bredren. I was looking forward to meeting her once I was able to travel or whenever they came to New York- whichever came first.
“She’s doing great,” Doe replied. “She’s gonna be in medical school for forever, so we’re not sure when we’re going to start having kids. Both sets of parents are already nagging us about it.”
I laughed. Doe knew I’d always been Team No Kids.
“So, listen,” Mundo said, “my dad wants to see you. Give him a call today, okay? Try to get up with him before Wednesday.” He gave me Mr. Henriques’s phone number and made me promise I’d call him within the next few hours.
I said I would.
Before we said goodbye, I mentioned that I was going to go out that afternoon to get a new cellphone.
“I’ll call you once I get it set up.”
“Wait until this summer and get an iPhone,” he said. “You’re gonna lose your mind!”
When I called Mr. Henriques, he told me he was delighted to hear my voice. There was that word again- delighted.
He asked me if I’d have time to stop by the house on Monday evening.
“Currently, I’m wide open,” I told him.
“That’s good, because I have a lot to discuss with you,” he said.
On Monday, I got to Mundo’s parents’ house at 6:30 and was shocked when Mrs. Henriques answered the door. I had not seen her in years.
“Pierre,” she said. “Come in, you look wonderful!” She led me to the sunroom, where Mr. Henriques was sitting, reading a copy of The Economist.
“You two have a lot to talk about, so I’ll leave you to it.” Mrs. Henriques said, before she disappeared.
“Sit down, Pierre!” Mr. Henriques seemed genuinely happy to see me.
I tried to thank him for all of the support he offered over the past five years, but he shut me down.
“Pierre,” he began. “I know what you got caught up in. I’m aware of what was going on. You’ve always shown good character. Olmando is lucky you’re his brother.”
He knew that I knew that he knew.
“Let’s change the subject,” I said as offhandedly as possible. “I love Mundo, and what’s done is done. He’s better off in Panama.”
“And speaking of Mundo,” Mr. Henriques said as he reached into his pants pocket. “He asked me to give this to you.” He handed me a check. I unfolded it. It was made out to my name in the amount of $75,000.
“What is this for?” I asked.
“This is from Mundo,” Mr. Henriques explained. “It’s from his bank account, not mine.”
I gave Mr. Henriques a full-beam side-eye.
“Mundo wants you to take this money, go out and buy any car you want,” he explained.
“Um, okay,” I said. “That’s nice and it’s certainly helpful. But I don’t need a hand-out or hush money, Mr. Henriques.”
“This money is not a bribe and it’s not hush money,” Mundo’s father said, stiffly. “This money is coming from Mundo. He wants to make sure that you’re happy and comfortable after a long period of being away. No more no less. We love you, Pierre. You’re family. Whether you like it or not,” he added with a genuine smile.
“Okay, Mr. Henriques. I’ll take it,” I said.
I was referring to both Mundo’s gift and the fact that I was stuck with him whether I liked it or not.
“And now, I want to talk to you about something that I need help with,” Mr. Henriques said.
Sigh. Time to get my game face on. I was out of practice.
Mr. Henriques went on to tell me that he was really impressed with my choice to sit for a Master’s in Public Administration.
“That’s a very solid discipline,” he said. “My office has a need for an entry-level policy analyst and I’d like to offer the position to you. You’d be a great fit and we’d be lucky to get you.”
Mr. Henriques was a partner in a business consultancy that lobbied for Panamanian interest groups. The company had offices in Panama City, Miami, Washington DC and New York. Mr. Henriques was head of the NY office.
“I’d love to hear more about the job, Mr. Henriques,” I said. And I meant it.
Even without my usual obsessive agonizing over every detail, I could see the plusses outweighed the minuses:
I needed a quantifiable job that would allow me to fulfill the number one stipulation of my supervised release. And while I’d definitely make more money flipping property with Hopeton, that type of work was harder to use as proof of steady employment. A policy analyst job would get me a weekly paystub and an email address.
This job would allow me to immediately put my master’s degree to use. That would thrill my mother and father to no end- and it would make me feel like the last five years hadn’t been a total waste.
It was possible that I’d actually get the type of experience I’d need to get a real job once I was off supervised release and able to leave the country.
And I liked Mundo’s father. I knew I’d be good at the job, no matter what it entailed, and I’d like to help him out. Maybe learn a few things from him in the process.
Mr. Henriques invited me to visit the office the following week for an informal interview with the hiring manager. “I’ll make introductions and kick things off, then the two of you can take it from there. If possible, please put together a resumé showing your work experience in real estate and your educational background. And don’t worry about any gaps. I’ll handle that.”
I was going to ask my mother to help me with a resumé the second she got home from work. I knew she’d be delighted to assist.
