TARGETED Chapter 78 Back to Costa Rica (A True Story)

                                                           ----ooo78ooo----

                                                      Back to Costa Rica

            With regards to Moreland the potential was limitless.  Then in January I received a call from Moreland asking me if I would mind going to a meeting that require a little travel. ”Paul, I need you to go to Costa Rica. We are reviewing the program there and will probably be able to meet with the president of the country. It would be very good if you could join me there at our offices.”

“We have offices in Costa Rica?”

“We do now.   They are in the same building as our attorney, Noe Kawer. He has a direct communication with the President and he is instrumental, along with the efforts of his wife, in supporting the center for abused and abandoned children. Can you leave next Tuesday?”

“Sure.”

I was delighted with the news. The last time he had been there I was in such a hurry and in so much demand with the examinations I had no time to visit any of the countryside that I had been a part of during my mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon) so many years ago. I was anxious for the opportunity to possibly connect up with some of the people and places I had known.

The following week I landed in San Jose. The weather was perfect as usual. The temperature was around 78 degrees F. The humidity was certainly more than in Utah but it enveloped the body comfortably. Since San Jose is situated in what would be considered the mountains in Central America, in Utah it would be nothing more than foothills, the climate was considerably better than in the rain forest at the lower levels. The air was never-the-less filled with the oxygen of a lush rainforest that surrounded the city and pressed down on every side. It was easy to feel a sense of euphoria at the intensity of the healthy air and feel of the place.

The only instruction I had was to procure a taxi and give the name of the hotel but not to pay more than $10 American.  It was a figure that had to be agreed to up front and somehow even then it would be increased by the end of the ride. Usually fees were determined based on the appearance of the suit and I looked very much the role of an attorney. It took a little doing to get the price down.

The hotel put me into cultural shock.            It was far superior to the one I had seen before and certainly beyond anything I had experienced during my mission there in 1972-1974. Then again things had changed quite a bit in the United States in that same time frame. After settling into my room the phone rang. It was Moreland.

“I see you made it alright. Are you hungry?”

Moreland was always very polite about making sure I, or anyone he was entertaining for that matter, was properly taken care of.  It was such a contrast to the way I had been treated by Koskella that it was refreshing. It made the problems of the past seem to fade.

“Yes, actually I am starved. What did you have in mind?”

“Noe 's on his way to pick us up. He said he knew of an excellent restaurant that served the best steaks in the capitol.”

“Sounds good.”

Noe had been introduced to me the month before in Las Vegas. He had come up to visit.

We were both staying at the MGM Grand. Noe had asked I to take him over to the New York, New York Resort across the strip. While Noe used the men's room I, who had just told Noe that I did not usually gamble because it was frowned upon by the Church, had just slipped a quarter innocently into a machine, pulled the handle and started to walk away. My objective of not being caught was suddenly thwarted when the machine began disgorging $68 in quarters. There was nothing I could do but to ask the laughing Noe if he would join me for a late night dinner, to which he promptly accepted. We became friends from that time forward. Noe had explained that he was part of a very small minority in Costa Rica that had had a very hard time fitting in. As I had learned both his mother and father were both survivors of Auchwitz Nazi Concentration camp.

“Do you mind if we pass by my mother's store,”  Noe said as he opened the door for me.

“I would be honored” I said in my best Spanish.

“Hey your Spanish is pretty good! How come you did not speak it when I was in Las Vegas?”

“Because your English is even better.”

“Nonsense!”

After a drive through the city we arrived at what appeared to be a furniture store, but upon entering it was clear that it was much more than that.  There were appliances, televisions, jewelry, and a variety of household luxury items. There in the middle of it all, seated in her chair behind a glass cabinet was Sara, Noe's mother. She looked to be quite old but spoke very well. She had a certain nobility about her that glowed from her personality. “Well hello Mr. Young. Please sit down.”

“It is very nice to get to meet you,” I said as I extended my hand.

I took a nearby chair after shaking her hand.

“I understand that you have quite a history. How did you come to live in Costa Rica?”

It was a fair question.             With all of the countries she could have gone to she selected this one. It was a question she had been asked many times before so she had a ready answer.

“I hate snow.” She gave a broad smile. “I understand you have nine beautiful daughters. Your wife is a saint, if I can borrow from my many Catholic friends.”

“Yes she is.”

“Yet you have no son. Are you finished having children?”

“I am careful to treat that subject with great deal of reverence and leave that entirely up to my wife.”

“A very good answer.  Would you like a son?”

“You get right to the point.”

I thought for a moment and realized that having a son was never part of the deal. I had long since learned to love being a dad to my girls. All thoughts of softball, soccer and basketball always had "girls" stuck on the front of them. I was content.

“I'm happy with my girls.”

“I will talk to my Noe. We might be able to change your mind.”

I wasn't sure what they were up to and would not find out until I returned to the United States. I was in for the surprise of my life and it would test the devotion of my wife.

“Tell me something Mr. Young, what is it you hope to do with Legacy? You surely cannot save all of the children of the world.”

She was baiting me and I knew it. Of all people I never would have expected a test from her. How do you respond to someone who has been through all of the experiences she has? I tried to think of something profound. Sara watched me closely.

“I think it would be better to say that it is not so important to try to save all of the children in the world, but it is important to take a positive step. Just one positive step against the flood of injustice and evil in the world may not seem like much of a response but for us, for me, it is worth it because I can say I did it, I tried. I hope others will then join in and then perhaps we will make a difference.”

“Once again you have answered well. I like him Noe. You have my permission to keep him.”

I wondered if perhaps I was the one being adopted.

After a short talk it was time to go and we gave our farewells. Sara insisted on giving everyone a hug and a kiss. It was the last time I would see Sara alive. She had lived an incredible life and I was so much the better for having met her. She was deep in my thoughts as we left for the restaurant.

After passing through many of the back streets, including some cobblestone covered avenues, we finally arrived.

“Here we are,” announced Noe.

The restaurant did not seem like much from the outside but was very nice on the inside. There was a waterfall coming out of a rock wall that made up the north end of the restaurant. There were so many plants and trees inside that it felt very much like a rain forest. Large ferns hung from the ceiling. There was a colorful large life size traditional cart made entirely out of wood and hand painted with bright colors that symbolized Costa Rican nationality.  In the four foot high cart was a blanket of flowers covering its bed. Music filed the entire place as well as the aroma of steaks. A plateful of steaks went by as a waiter carried them to a nearby table. They were enormous.

            “It would appear you have chosen well.” I was suddenly a lot hungrier than I thought.

The next couple of days were spent in very long meetings and sessions to develop a format for the Costa Rican branch of Legacy.  It was important to meet all of the legal requirements to connect it to its American counterpart. There was a lot of writing and discussion over how it would be accomplished and who could help make it possible. After the paperwork and the logistics had been worked out I had an extra three days that I was hoping would afford me a chance to return to the neighborhoods I had served in as a missionary and see the changes. Perhaps even run into some the people I had known. It was then I got an urgent call from the United States.

              “Hello. Mr. Young? This is Bob Larsen in Provo. I am president of the Bank.”

            “Oh yes, Mr. Larsen. I do remember you, how can I help you?”

“Well your wife gave us your phone number and under the circumstances I thought it would be fine to call you.”

              “What's the problem?”  I was becoming very concern at the tenseness in Larsen’s voice and at what had to be something very serious for him to have made such an unusual call. I could not imagine what the problem could be because there could not be more than a couple of hundred dollars in that account at that bank. I had set it up to accommodate the transfer of the Andersons funds because I wanted to make sure everything was kept segregated from the rest of my business accounts. I was completely in a state of shock. Then Larson just sort of blurted it out.

            “You are about $56,000 overdrawn and out of the country, and quite frankly that’s a problem.”

Given the circumstances Larsen was not unkind even though obviously stressed in his tone. We had developed an informal friendship. This was a courtesy calI. It was not in the bank's best interest to have an incident. However, this was a sizable amount of money to be overdrawn.

“I am completely at a loss. When was the money withdrawn?”

“That's the part I find very suspicious. I have no doubt that you have been in Costa Rica for several days. Your wife confirmed as much. These funds were drawn against your account yesterday. Does anyone have access to your account?”

Koskella! It was the only logical answer. The only question was how did he do it?            I would have to act fast to correct the problem or there would be a banking incident with a criminal report to follow.

            “I am terribly  sorry.   I am not sure how it was done but I will get the money back into the account. I will return from Costa Rica as soon as possible.”

“I will keep this in the error category for a couple of days but I will need you to show me some progress almost immediately upon your return.”

              “Thank you.”

            Moreland had been standing nearby. “What happened?”

            “I am not sure but I believe Koskella somehow accessed my account in my absence. That is why he wanted me to keep some of my office equipment and files there, I know for a fact I locked the office before I left."

            He was counting on me leaving my check book.

“Who else has a key?”

              “Dave Hart!   I can't believe this. Why would they do this?            How could they hope to get away with it?”

              I was extremely upset and I began pacing.

              Moreland knew nothing he could say was going to calm me down. I thought about the effect the news must now be having on my wife.

            “Maybe you had better call your wife.”

“Thanks.” I picked up the phone and began dialing.

“So why did the bank call?”

“In a word, Koskella.”

“What did he do?” Beverly was very upset.

“His usual and I am not sure exactly what to do to fix it, but I will be coming home on the next flight so I will let you know when I will be at the airport.” I watched as Moreland was busy on the other phone making the flight arrangements and nodding his head that all was set.

“It looks like I will be on the next flight. It arrives...” I said as I looked at Moreland who put a hand over his phone.

“About 11:35 PM this evening.”

“Mike says at 11:35 PM this evening. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Beverly's voice was a little strained. She had more than her fill of Koskella and yet here was yet another episode.

My next call was to Koskella. I would have to confront him soon. It might as well be then. After several attempts I got through to the office.

“I am sorry Mr. Koskella is not taking your calls right now and will not be           in until tomorrow.”

Did she say “your calls”. I was furious.