Téo and I left for New York the next day. We got to the airport early, quickly made our way through security screening and walked over to the American Airlines lounge.
“I’m thirsty,” Téo told me. “Let’s grab a beer at the bar.”
Once we were settled, I started telling Téo what had been on my mind all morning.
“I really don’t know about Rafael,” I said. “We’ve been spending all this energy managing Mundo out of danger and nothing’s been said about PanStar. Do we even have a business anymore?”
Téo looked uncomfortable. He grabbed his pint glass and took a long sip.
“Yes, yes- I know,” I said. “You are not a part of Bolo’s business, and you have no opinion one way or the other. But I need to talk this out with someone who knows what’s going on. And unfortunately for you my friend- you’re it.”
“Okay, Hopeton,” Téo replied, “I’ll humor you just this once. What are you trying to work out?”
I called for another beer, then proceeded to walk Téo through all of the confusion surrounding PanStar and its viability.
“And if we’re no longer able to service our customer base with one product, then why not find the next product to sell? Why is Bolo so hesitant?”
“Rafael comes from a family of small landowners. Cane farmers,” Téo explained. “They planted sugar cane only. Never diversified. Bolo’s people were never wealthy or influential, but they controlled their own little corner of the world. They told people what to do and people listened. That’s what Bolo’s used to.”
“But when the crops die and the land goes fallow, then what happens?” I asked.
“You sell the land if you own it. You move on if you don’t,” Téo replied.
“And what about you?” I asked. “Do you and Lali ever think about leaving New York?”
“No,” Téo replied, not even taking a pause to consider my question. “Never.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why not.”
“Lali’s from Queens. Her social life is in New York,” Téo explained. “We visit Jamaica and Guyana to see family. I’m back in Panama often enough, and as you probably can guess, it’s not Lali’s favorite place. My work is in service to Panama, but there’s no reason for me to be here permanently. New York’s my home.”
I smiled at him. Aside from the Mundo problem, it seemed like Téo really had it all figured out.
“And you?” Téo asked. “You never really talk about where you’re from, or where you ultimately want to be. I’ve always wondered about that with you.”
“That’s what I’m starting to try to figure out,” I replied. “The only thing I know for certain is I’m not going back to Cuba. Everything else is up for grabs at this point.”
