My Last Days in Bocas Del Toro

For a few days I did not visit Bea but kept making rounds around the town doing some work for folks on their yards. Some people paid me and others never did, but I felt good about doing Bea’s yard.

On the third day I started missing Bea, so I said to my wife, “Come, dress the baby and let’s go see a good friend of mine.” She did not protest or ask me any questions, but I saw the inquisitive look on her face telling me that she was only agreeing to it to see who I had made friends with, hoping that it would be a young woman so that she could give vent to her bouts of jealousy. So off we departed her and me taking turns carrying the baby boy.

We walked along the road into the country that I had come to know so well and soon we were entering Bea’s property. When we entered the yard I started announcing myself. “Hey in there, Miss Bea,” I hollered, “it’s me Juni!” She had seen us enter her yard with the baby and she stepped outside offering to take the child from us. His mother handed him over and we all stepped inside. Bea walked over to her seat in the parlor and sat looking the child over, inspecting him really. She then began cooing to the baby of about seven months old, like a grandmother who had missed him for some time.I left my wife and child with her as I went outside to work on some hedges, wanting to leave the place as clean as possible, hoping that it would not need attention for a long time to come before the expected rainy seasons arrived.

It must have been quite some time that I was outside working before I decided to enter the house feeling as if I had lived there some time in another lifetime. I caught the two women deeply engaged in conversation, while the baby slept in his new grandmother’s huge bed. The conversing women had left me out of their discussion; however, I was surprised to suddenly find my child wife in a very good mood. Although I kept thinking that I was really not there for her but for the baby, never the less I found joviality and amusement in the occasion despite my feelings of an impending emotional divorce long before this day.

The day turned into night and we were still at Bea’s acting like we belonged there. I couldn’t help feeling that this entire visit had been somewhat of a disappointment, however, because, try as I might, Bea did not want to engage me in conversation about herself and the old days as we had done on other days when she and I had been alone. We just sat and enjoyed her love for that baby.

To me it seemed that she filled the whole place with the love she had pent-up for years. So we let the old lady have her way when she cajoled us into staying the night. Her invitation would turn into two more days and nights during which time we would go home to pick up some things and make it back in a hurry, worried that the baby might miss us if we were gone too long. But, when we would return we would find two happy individuals in love with each other, as Bea seemed to derive such pleasure from fussing and playing with the child.

On the fourth day we announced to Bea that we just had to get home. The look on her face told me that she sensed that that would be the last time we would be together. “Juni,” she suddenly said, “you an she just you come over here a minute.” I walked towards her obediently noticing that she had my child bride by the hand.“Look!” she said, “I can’t stop what is going to happen between you two, but just remembah how it was when you loved each otha.Think on the days when you first saw each otha fo’ the first time. Then think, remembah this beautiful baby boy, an try to forgive each otha. Now you all can go home, but don’t forget you’all have a place here to stay, anytime you want to.”

I was really too choked up to answer and as we walked outside Bea still had the baby in her arms. She had been a fantastic friend and grandmother. After she handed the baby over to his young mother both of us said, “Good bye, Bea!” As we walked away leaving her at the door watching us depart I had it in the back of my mind that it would not be long before I would be back at her door.

Three days later, however, due to a death in the family, we would be on a boat bound for Colon City of the Canal area. Once there I would get lost in other things that would induce me to leave my beloved Panama for most of my adult life. However, the story of the old pioneer West Indian woman of the railroad days in Bocas Province would have escaped me until the demands of time and circumstance would force me to remember that I had been given a gift as rich as the story I have related to you.

We never met again, Bea and me, and I never returned to the Province of Bocas del Toro.But, the events I have described opened one of the most thrilling episodes relating to my people the Panamanian Westindians.

This story continues.