Page 46 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
“Right, I remember you said he was divorced.” I cocked my head. “Did you like her?”
He hesitated. “I did. But I think I was a little blind to her. Looking back, after seeing how hurt Jonas was when she left . . .” He shook his head. “I still don’t really know why she left. I do not understand it.”
“That must be hard for Jonas.”
“It was maybe the first time I saw my brother as just a man. He needed to do something different, to find happiness. He loved sailing as a kid, so I could see that this would be a chance for him to recover and move on.”
“You are a good brother.”
“Thank you.”
“And you are good at other things, too.”
Eivind pinched my thigh under the table, and our waiter appeared with our food. We ate and talked, learning more about each other.
After dinner, we strolled through Casco Viejo, the old town of Panama City.
“Did you know this is the second capital?”
Eivind shook his head. “How many are there?”
“Old Panama City was the first, burned down by Captain Morgan. Casco Viejo is the second, and modern Panama City is the third. The first city was founded in 1519.”
“That is very old for the New World, ja?”
I nodded. “That’s before a European ever set foot in Straya.”
We walked up and down the streets. It was night, but Casco Viejo was one of the popular tourist destinations, so it was still busy. The buildings surrounding us were old, colorful examples of Spanish colonial architecture.
“This is what I imagine Havana must be like.”
Eivind nodded toward an open storefront. “I bet Havana doesn’t have that.”
It was a shop selling nothing but ice blocks—or Popsicles, as Eivind called them. The ice blocks were beautiful—kiwis and lemon slices glinted under their icy coats, and exotic flavors were available. Eivind ordered guava cheesecake and I went with classic strawberry. We walked to the shore and tried not to let the ice blocks drip on our hands while we ate.
Casco Viejo was surrounded by an elevated highway that circled the old city. Once the highway joined land again, pedestrians could cross the road and walk along the shore. With the last of our Popsicles, we walked along the sidewalk, which was called the Cinta Costera.
In front of us lay the glittering lights of modern Panama City. Behind us, the softer lights of the old town. To our right stretched the dark, inky Pacific Ocean.
“I can’t believe you are going to sail away.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe it either.”
“How do you afford to do this?”
Eivind stopped us and gazed out over the ocean, the horizon visible in the moonlight. “Jonas supports me.”
I looked up at Eivind, his face unreadable in the shadows. “That’s nice of him.”
“He has done very well for himself in his job, and needed a crew member.” Eivind looked down at me. “It was a win-win for both of us.”
I stretched up to kiss his cheek, and he smiled faintly before turning back to look out over the ocean.
Twenty-One
I woke up alone in the morning, dim light shining through the window onto the tousled bed. I vaguely remembered Eivind leaving me, and wondered what had woken me up.
I stretched and recalled last night: coming “home” to the boat, tumbling into bed together, tender kisses and quiet moans.
