Rodrigo

From here on out, I might be going by the name, “Rodrigo.” 

When my father died, we began the job of settling his estate. According to his wishes, it was all divided between my sisters and me. To keep things simpler, we decided to merge it so all the taxes and other paperwork would just come to me. 

Because I'm the only one who lives locally, it's reasonable and not really much bother for me to be the person managing things. Last week some papers needed to be signed, so I emailed copies to my sisters and in a half hour they were back, all ready to submit. 

The wonders of technology. 

Anyway, I realized that I had just sent the signature page and hadn't explained what they were for. That seemed sloppy to me, so I sent a follow-up email that read, “I forget to tell you what the papers were for. I've decided to sell all the land, take the money, and move to Paraguay. I hear it has a nice climate and most of the Nazis are dead.” 

I heard back from one sister right away. She said, “I thought as much. Have a nice life.” 

I thought that was darn generous. I'll be sending her a Christmas card, but with no return address in case she exercises her prerogative to change her mind. 

My other sister was not quite as relaxed. She's been diligently learning Spanish, and I had the impression that she'll be practicing the sentence, “Have you seen this man?”  I have yet to see which photo she used for the poster. 

There may be some flaws in my plan. I don't actually know much about Paraguay and most of what I think I know is probably wrong. 

What I do know is that after World War II, many Nazis who snuck out of Germany with suitcases full of money found their way there. But the war's been over for nearly eighty years. If there are any left, they’re 100 or more years old. I hang out with a lot of people who use walkers, and they don't terrify me. I think I can hold my own. There may be a second generation growing up to worry about, but hey, that can happen anywhere. 

My sister, the one I'm worried about, did suggest some flaws in my plan. I won't go without my wife and my wife won't go without the grandchildren. When they were little, we might have pulled it off, but now one of them is looking at colleges, another is on the tennis team...I foresee all sorts of problems. And don't ask me how I'm going handle transporting the dogs, chickens, and ducks. Plus, my wife is nursing an orphaned kitten, so there goes our carry-on allowance. None of this seems like the sort of thing Jason Bourne or James Bond had to deal with. 

I just checked. The United States DOES have an extradition treaty with Paraguay. I'm going to have to come up with a Plan B.  

But I'm going to hang on to Rodrigo. 

Copyright Brent Olson