107.
   The voyage was timeless. Images, smells, tastes, smiles, sighs were woven together with the simple company of the dogs, Conrad and the sea. Then one morning Conrad took me to the bridge to meet the captain, an iguana hailing out of Veracruz. Her name was Beatrice. Her strong hands held the wheel as she gazed into the lifting fog. “I hear you are getting quite an education, young man.”, she smiled.

   “We’re sailing for Sumatra but I don’t know why.”, I admitted. “My friend hasn’t told me any stories yet but when he does, I’m sure they will be sad ones. I’ve been getting it from all sides that my country isn’t the white knight I have been led to believe it is.”
   “Ah, empire.”, offered the captain.
   I shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit from what I’ve seen that we have been as guilty as anyone fighting the Cold War, but we didn’t actually invade countries like the Soviets invaded Hungary or the Chinese invaded Tibet.”
   The captain shrugged and glanced at Conrad. “Indeed, my child.”
   Conrad rolled his eyes. “Aside from Vietnam?”
   “What?”, I asked as my idiocy began to dawn on me.
   “Besides Vietnam, Haiti, Cuba, The Dominican Republic?”, continued Conrad with an
edge in his voice.
    “Of course, Vietnam. Did we invade the Caribbean as well?”, I asked, digging myself
deeper.
   “Why don’t you ask a Panamanian?”, Conrad sneered.
   I looked at Conrad, surprised at his tone. “A Panamanian?”