The weak point in this plan was my lack of a working phone. Bride #1 declared that she needed our phone that would work in the US, and Canada. With the confidence that comes from the fact that it wouldn’t affect her (only me), she told me it wouldn’t be a problem. If there was an issue aboard the ship the sailboat people could call Crusty.
“Got it,” I said post explanation. “I take the pill just in case I don’t have COVID but do have intestinal parasites.”
Cosa #2, sin embargo, tenía ideas diferentes. “¡Mi garganta! ¡Es como si estuviera en llamas! No hay forma de que pueda ir a la escuela. ¡Probablemente tengo COVID!”
“You don’t have COVID. You were fine until I said you had to go to school.”
Reflexioné brevemente sobre si mi arresto me llevaría finalmente a cruzar la frontera o si todo lo que estaba trabajando era una prohibición permanente por parte de Panamá. Me fui. Me despedí por última vez de los amables chicos del parqueo de la ferretería y conduje unos 20 minutos en dirección a casa, intentando pensar en mis próximos pasos. Había salido de mi casa a las 6:00 a.m. Ahora se acercaban las 5:00 p.m.
I briefly pondered whether or not my arrest would finally get me across the border or if all I was working on was a permanent ban by Panama. I left. I waived a final goodbye to the nice guys in the hardware store parking lot and drove about 20 minutes in the general direction of home, trying to think through my next steps. I’d left my house at 6:00 a.m. It was now closing in on 5:00 p.m.
Moving 7,000+ kilometers is never easy. Doing so in times of COVID made every interaction include the word “maybe” as well as the phrase “it used to work like this.”