It was on the beach at Santa Marta
a few hours drive
from Barranquilla where my brother
lived with Carmen
his first wife
who'd grown up there
that was before my neice
their daughter Eloisa
was conceived
who's now the family scholar
a professor
and mother of my brother's
much loved grandchildren

I'd been snorkling
along a coral reef
alive with brilliant reef fish
spiny sea urchins
and hearing shouts
I swam back just in time
to see some kids
run off with all our stuff
my brother's wallet
his papers, Carmen's purse
my glasses and the car keys
and there's Valseir
my brother's friend
a fellow teacher
from the university
chasing the little thieves
into the forest
at the far end of the cove

What he was thinking
as he chased them
I have no idea
wielding a machete
high above his head
clearly he'd never
use it on the kids
perhaps he thought he'd need it
to cut brush along the path
the sight was strange enough
that we all stood there laughing

We had to hire a mechanic
to break in
jumpstart the car
so we could drive it home
later I asked my brother how
the thing had ended
he told me he'd come back
after a week or so and paid
the guy who ran the beach
to give him back
his passport and his papers

A few months ago
my brother called me
from Sao Paolo
where he now lives with Lili
his Brasilian wife
and mentioned that his old friend
the professor, Valseir
who'd wielded the machete
all those years ago in Santa Marta
had died
I never knew the man
but the image of him running
down the beach
without a breath of hope
he'd ever catch the rascals
who'd snatched our stuff
it's a memory
I'll treasure all my life