In July of 1995, Bolo summoned me to Panama City to discuss my growing concern over security issues both citywide and within our organization. I’d made it clear to him that I felt it was only a matter of time before Panamanian Star took some sort of hit. And this was a topic best discussed face to face.
I’d been in town for a few days, checked into my usual suite at the Plaza Paitilla Hotel, when Bolo gave me an early morning call.
“I have some things I need you to sign today,” he said. “Meet me at the Hotel El Panama for lunch by the pool. I’m going to bring Olmando and Pierre with me. Let them do some swimming while we talk business.”
Téofilo’s son, Olmando, and his best friend, Pierre, were both 21 years old. Mundo had recently completed his junior year at University of Hartford and Pierre, at Pontificia Universidad Católica Madre y Maestra in Santo Domingo. They’d gotten in the habit of meeting up in Panama City each summer, an indulgence Rafael Montilla encouraged.
This afternoon, the boys were at opposite ends of the energy scale. Mundo was hyper and social, casting his eyes around the patio in search of girls to chat up. Pierre, never the most outgoing in the best of times, was clearly moping over something.
“This kid’s girlfriend dumped him,” Mundo said, jerking a thumb towards Pierre. “It's his first girlfriend ever,” he continued, rolling his eyes.
“Pendejo,” Pierre muttered in Mundo’s direction, just loud enough for me to catch the pain behind his words. “Leave me alone.”
“Get over it, Cabrón,” Olmando laughed.
Bolo shooed the kids off and told them to order whatever they wanted to eat and drink.
“I remember what it was like when I was that age,” Bolo said amusedly. “I was cutting cane on my parents’ farm and plotting my escape.”
“And I was just about to take the fall for someone else’s scheme and get put away for two years,” I replied, in a decidedly heavier tone.
Rafael and I briefly returned our attention to the boys. They’d found a table all the way on the other side of the pool, situated close to another group of youngsters. Mundo pulled out a deck of cards and started dealing out a hand of Gin Rummy. I could see the two tables of kids eyeing each other and wondered to myself how long it would take until the two groups merged into one.
I turned back to Bolo and mentioned I was considering buying a few pieces of real estate in Panama City. “Just a few small apartments. For investment purposes,” I clarified.
“I think that’s a smart move,” Bolo agreed. “It’ll give you a grounding here, and make it easier for you to apply for a business visa, if that’s a step you’d want to take.”
Bolo had been pushing me to get more of a legal foothold in Panama. Tired of collecting passports, I’d been holding him off for a while.
“I’ll have Carolina give you a call,” Bolo told me. “Her good friend owns a real estate company.”
I thanked him for the offer.
“Look at those two,” Bolo said, nodding his chin over to where the boys were sitting. As I’d predicted they’d been absorbed into the larger party of youngsters. A waitress was approaching their table with a tray of beers.
“I’m going to have Mundo come into the New York side of the business,” Bolo told me. “Next year, after he graduates.”
I tried to keep my face still. This sounded like Bolo was making a joke. Why would he want Mundo involved in that type of work?
But Bolo was serious.
“I’m going to give him next summer off to play around then have him start working with you before year’s end,” he continued.
“And Téo?” I asked, gingerly. “What does he have to say?”
“I’m going to start talking to Téo about it,” Bolo replied. “Nothing’s been discussed, but I’m sure we all think it would be for the best if Mundo is brought in quickly.”
“And what about his shadow?” I assumed Pierre would be folded into the crew, but I wanted to let Bolo make that call. I still needed to assess this cockamamie plan and its full potential for damage.
Bolo shrugged.
“That’s a good question,” he replied. “Pierre will probably end up as part of the package deal, but we'll see how that goes. There's nothing for you to do now, but just know that Mundo will be on the payroll in New York after graduation. We'll work out the timing. And it should give you a little extra bandwidth. Start him out with something light.”
I knew that challenging Bolo’s decree would get me nowhere, but I felt I had to appeal to his pragmatic nature.
“I don’t think Mundo’s suited for that type of work, that type of life,” I began, as gently as possible.
Bolo refused to let me get any further.
“I beg to disagree,” he said firmly. “I’m a man with three daughters, Hopeton. Mundo’s my de facto heir. Our families have been intertwined for so many years, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
I looked back over across the pool. Mundo was in the middle of telling a long, loud story in grammatically awkward Spanish. Pierre was sulking. Their new friends were laughing.
There was no way I’d be able to talk Bolo out of this. I was going to get stuck with the kids. It wasn’t anything that could be dealt with immediately, so I made a note to myself to have a sit-down with Téo to discuss it within the next few months.
