CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
2009 - Transit Reconnaissance
We got to the airport at 1:30, knowing it would be packed with people heading out to real Carnival or rushing back home to get a jump on the work week.
Both of us were flying first class on American, per usual, so we were able to check in together. After that, we sped through TSA- a rare and welcomed gift.
Once through, we headed to the Admirals Club to kill time before we had to split up. I glanced at my Omega and saw Mundo had two hours before he had to get to his gate.
“Let’s get some food,” Doe suggested. He was looking a little grey and dehydrated.
Once we’d found comfortable seating, hamburgers, fries, Arnold Palmers and draft beers in front of us- all the accoutrements of the end of a successful Boys’ weekend- I decided to take my last opportunity to figure out what Mundo thought he had waiting for me in Central America.
“Did you have fun this weekend, Doe?” A simple opening gambit. Hopeton would be proud.
Mundo looked up from his fries and nodded.
“Yeah, bro, I really did. And truth be told, I really needed it.”
“Shit rough at home?” I asked.
Mundo took that as an opportunity to go into a deep analysis of his marriage and how it was impacting his ability to chill. Reading between the lines, it sounded to me like Gianina was doing all the heavy lifting and might have been getting tired of having a semi-unreliable man-child as a life partner- especially at that particular moment, as she tried to finish up her medical residency and figure out long-term career goals.
“C’mon, Doe,” I gently interrupted, “she’s trying to complete her med school requirements during an international economic crisis. Cut her a little slack.”
He expelled a dramatic puff of air- not quite a sigh, not exactly a huff, and picked up his mug of beer.
I tried again, this time a little more directly.
“So, Panama. Do you really want me there?”
“Yeah. I really want you there, Pierre.”
“Could you tell me why?” I asked. He really wasn’t giving me much to work with.
“Because I need someone there who understands business and can figure it out when it’s something they don’t already know,” he replied.
So much for the Socratic method. That response really didn’t give me much more than what I already knew. I decided to go back to being direct.
“Bro, you know I’m all in for you whenever you need me,” I began.
This caught Olmando’s attention. He looked at me, squinty eyed. Judging my sincerity.
“But,” I continued, “I can’t pack up my life in New York and ditch my real career just because you say you need me in Panama. Why do you need me? Specifically, what do you need me to do there?”
“I need you to come and help me run my company. Bolo’s gone. It’s just me. I can’t do it myself.”
“I get that, Doe,” I said, as gently as I could. “But, what would I be? COO? Vice President of Development? Some other shit? I need a job description.”
This time Mundo sighed. A big, annoyed and frustrated sound that hung in the air, between us.
“I’mma be honest, ‘Brón- I don’t know what the title’s gonna be,” he replied. “I know that right now- like immediately, I need you to come down and manage all of our existing construction projects. We’re falling behind and losing money. Investors are getting pissed and now is not a good time for that.”
Mundo wanted me to take the job he had way back in 2001. The one he fucking hated.
My mind flashed back to Hopeton telling me, all of this work would be great experience for my future in Panama, and me finally telling him to shut the fuck up.
Hopeton knew all along that this was what I was being called back for.
Fuck me.
“Really, Olmando? You want me to move my ass all the way down to Panama City to be your project manager?” I asked, incredulous- but then again, not really.
“It’s what I need, Doe,” he said, flatly. “And you know it’s gonna wind up being much more than that. We’ve always found things to get into together. It never just stays small.”
I thought about the Brownsville garage and all the havoc it wreaked on my life. I refused to let it go any further than that.
But, I knew it was inevitable. I was gonna have to go to Panama. Yet I refused to do it in the midst of chaos.
“Fine, Doe. You got me,” I confirmed.
He gave me two thumbs up.
“However,” I cautioned, “I’m gonna sit down with your father and hammer out a real employment agreement. A legitimate contract with terms and conditions. And I’m gonna be a contractor or consultant. You will not be my boss.”
I was about to turn thirty-five and there was no way I could allow Mundo to guide me down a wrong path. Been there, done that.
“Do what you gotta, Pierre,” Mundo replied. “I Just need you down there with me as soon as possible.”
He looked at his big-ass Breitling Chronomat, and said, “Shit, I gotta get to my gate.”
We hugged and wished each other safe travels. Then my brother was gone.
I had another hour to kill, so I grabbed another beer and started typing out a long text to Hopeton.
PDT Ventures, LLC was about to get some play.
My father would be delighted.
On the plane ride home, I slept like a baby.
