14One morning, about ten days after the relay tower went up on Mendoza’s land, I was in my room when I heard Uncle Pedro honking the horn of his truck outside. I opened the window and shouted, ‘Need any help, Uncle?’ He gestured for me to come out.
My mother was sitting in the seat next to him. She opened the door and my little brother stepped down. ‘José, take Adrian to Aida and you come back and come with us,’ she said.
Off we went to the office of the Kuwaiti businessman.
‘He’s not coming today. You can come back tomorrow,’ one of the staff told Uncle Pedro, but my mother insisted on meeting the man. The worker turned to a colleague and didn’t say anything. His colleague picked up the phone and made a call. ‘You can visit him at home at this address,’ she said, writing it out on a pi
