My eyes snap open, my heart is thumping erratically, I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I don’t believe I have ever been more aware of my consciousness as time begins to slow. In the total darkness of midnight I lift my head from the pillow and feel the warm blankets being shuffled frantically. In one swift movement Logan has bounded from the bed to the camper door and swiped the keys from their hook. The truck alarm echoes throughout the Otavalo foothills for only a few seconds.
Now enveloped in silence we stare at each other wordlessly in the darkness. Our minds are racing but we remain motionless. The alarm is triggered only by a broken window or by a door opened without the aid of a key. Peering out the windows reveals nothing as the fog and darkness have partnered to create near perfect invisibility. Moments later Logan is circling the truck with a maglite and I am feeling foolish, standing guard at the camper door with our only kitchen knife.
Happily no windows are broken, no forced entry can be detected. This fortunate yet anti-climactic conclusion is a perfect example of our constant sense of anxiety. We are miles outside of our comfort zone and we start each day with a healthy dose of reality. Bad luck and broken windows can happen anywhere, to anyone.