"There’s Been An Accident..."

Shortly after waking up early on this particular Sunday morning – 9:30am – the phone rang – there’s been an accident, three people in the hospital in grave danger, fighting for their lives. We’ve been given your number as the emergency contact. What?! This is Sergeant Castillo, “what is your name?” Goyo. We’ve got three cell phones here, a Nokia, Samsung and Erickson… do you have a friend with one of these phones? Uh… can you speak just a little slower, my castellano isn’t perfect.

I had just gone though a similar experience, receiving a call from the states saying Ethan had fallen ill in the Andean town of Huancayo, Peru... ‘unconscious, not breathing and ‘blue as a Smurf,’’ the doctor told me over the phone that first day. Now I’m thinking, ‘what has he gotten himself into this time?’ I won't even go into the other night...

The guy on the phone - short and podgy I imagine - proceeds to explain the situation in a rather exasperated tone, spitting out what basic information he has in rapido, staccato, Castellano. We’ve got a male, 30 – 40 years of age… what kind of hair does your friend have, short long…? the Sergeant inquires. ‘Could it be a guy named Ethan,” I ask? I think he’s got a Samsung phone, he’s 35… real short hair?’ YES, that is the man we have here! He goes on and on but now I only half-believe what he is saying. How far from the hospital in Boca am I? Ten blocks.
Thinking all this very strange and bit too early for this particular Sunday morning… and who is this guy, really, and how does he have my phone number? And then I remember an email Tommy had sent me awhile back – OJO CON ESO! – it was titled, BEWARE OF THIS! It warned against some scam where people call up and say there’s been an accident and they need to get as much information as possible because this is the only emergency contact phone number they have and lives are at stake.

The guy continues on and on… now something about a car riddled full of bullets and how his friend was involved also - took two slugs in the stomach and is gonna die. “What is your name and rank again sir, if you don’t mind my asking? And which police division are you with?” Finally he stated that he was part of some sort of intermediary group, and then he asked me for money, or else they would shoot my friend Ethan.

Hmmm… Ethan’s always saying that’s what he really wants, a bullet in the head. But now I chalk the whole thing up as a scam indeed and immediately hang up. I call Ethan, waking him up and all is well… “And I wasn’t even drinking last night,” he adds, just to make sure I believe him.