The Black Orchid

by Sawyer Caine

  I had received the final letter from Nekai only a few days before I made ready to leave Heathwood. Father Dawes had sent it to me as he promised. The paper was yellow, and the ink somewhat faded, but I could easily make out the letters that Nekai had written. It was the first letter that he had written entirely in his own hand.

  Alfred,

  I am learn to write to you. It is not good. I try. I miss you and I want to se you. Good candy you sen to me. I like much. Com to se me if you can. I grow tall like my papa. You like if you se me. Can be tall like you now. Nekana say hello to you. Com to se us.

  Love to you

  Nekai

  I’d read and re-read his attempts at English and each time I brushed my fingertips over his writing, I was more and more confident that I was making the right choice. I was beginning a new leg of my life, and I had no way of knowing if it too would end in grief or if the answer to my longings and the reason to continue living waited beyond the foggy horizon. Only fate held the key to that riddle, and she does not give up her secrets lightly.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I sat in the garden of the monastery at Tucupita and listened to the monks. It was seven p.m., and they were singing Compline, the service they performed just before they retired for the evening. Father Dawes had met me at the docks a few hours earlier and after a quick supper with him in the parish hall, I’d been shown to a guest room where I could spend the night. I couldn’t bring myself to stay at the Cambria hotel. That had been our place, Frederick’s and mine. The memory would have been too painful for me. I lit a cigarette and drew in the smoke, holding it languidly for a moment, then exhaling as if I could push out all the grief, misery, and uncertainty in that simple action.

  I looked around the lush space. It had been so many years since last I’d been here, when I’d beheld him for the first time, standing enchanted in this very garden. That memory held so much emotion for me. I made my way among the ferns and potted banana plants to stand in the very spot where he had once stood, listening intently to the monks singing. Nekai had always been spellbound by that sort of music. I wondered if he still had the Victrola and if it still worked. Though I had my doubts, I imagined that he would have played it until it fell apart or destroyed it when he learned I would not be writing to him anymore.

  I wondered about much that evening: would I be able to find him, would he still be alive and if so, would he despise me for abandoning him? So much doubt and worry plagued me that at one point I had myself convinced to get back on the plane and return to the safety and security of Heathwood. But that chapter of my life had been closed. I could not go back now. Fritz was the master of that world, and he was deserving of it. He had a wife, a daughter, and a young son who would carry on our family’s proud name and heritage. I would never have been able to do that for us.

  I stubbed my cigarette out on the sole of my shoe and tucked the butt into my jacket pocket. I would not litter in the monks’ sacred garden. As their singing came to a close, I stood and watched them file out of the chapel and make their way slowly along the cloister to their cells for the night. Father Dawes was at the end of the line and came out to me.

  “Lord Heathwood, would you join me for a nightcap before I retire?” he asked, placing his big hand on my shoulder.

  “Yes, it would be my pleasure but please, sir, call me Alfred. I’m not Lord Heathwood anymore. That title I gave to my younger brother when he took over my place as head of our family. I’m not ever going back there again.”

  “But what if you cannot find them, the Warao? What will you do? Do you plan to just remain in the jungle forever?” he asked as he led the way to his private rooms.

  I followed him into a paneled study, the walls lined with books, some of them rather ancient looking. He opened the French doors that led to the garden and pulled two chairs in front of them so that we might enjoy the evening breezes as we took our drinks. He gestured for me to sit as he went to a cabinet and took out two glasses and a bottle. I watched him pour us both a glass of wine, then he carried them over and sat down in the chair opposite me, handing me my glass as he did so.

  “I think… I mean if I can’t find him, I’ll just return to Tucupita and remain here. I’m sure I can find suitable housing. I’ll keep looking until I either die or discover him. If he is dead himself, then I guess… Well, Father, I don’t suppose there will be any reason for me to…” I trailed off, unwilling to give voice to my internal thoughts on the subject.

  “You speak as if your only object in this adventure is to find Nekai. Am I correct in assuming that?” he asked, twirling the contents of his wine glass and bending his head to inhale the bouquet.

  “Yes, I won’t deny it. We became very good friends and I have… missed him dearly all these years. I cut off communicating with him at my friend Frederick’s request because it made him angry. I always felt badly about the hurt I must have caused Nekai in doing so, but I thought that he might at least have a chance at a normal life with his people. The gifts I sent him, the modern influence we were having on him… It wasn’t good for him. He would never have been happy in our world.”

  “What makes you think that you will be happy in his world?” he asked as he tilted the glass up and stared hard at me over its rim, his dark eyes seeming to see my secret sins.

  I swallowed and lifted my own glass, taking a sip of the potent brew and trying to discern how best to reply to his question. After some thought, I gave answer.

  “I enjoyed my time in the village with them. I found their way of life barbaric at times, but I always understood that it was their way. I would never question their customs. The way they live, so attuned to nature and in harmony with her, seems more like what God intended for man than the way we live in London. The Warao always seemed so free and happy. They were not exactly childlike, just more…”

  “Innocent?” he asked, finishing my thought.

  “Yes, I would say that is exactly how they seemed. But I liked best the way the family groups were so tightly knit. No, not just the family groups, but the entire tribe. When one was hurting, they were all in pain. When another was happy and celebrating, they all enjoyed it. Everything was shared, and every man lived at peace with all the others. I wish we could learn that secret in the modern world.”

  “Ah, but we will not because the modern world is plagued with materialism, Alfred. Even you and I, we are not immune to the desire for luxury and comforts are we?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered as I lit another cigarette. “I’m as bad as the next man when it comes to that. Tell me, Father, when last we spoke, you told me that the Warao were having problems with another enemy tribe. Have those troubles resolved, or are they still at war?”

  “The fighting has died off. There were some considerable skirmishes, but the Warao were successful in defeating the other tribes that were after their land and the rights to the Orinoco. Their decision to move deeper into the jungle was due to food shortages, and close proximity to Tucupita made them victims of men from the city who wished to exploit them for their goods. We had some difficulties ourselves with unsavory characters trying to steal the Warao people’s furs and goods. The local law enforcement put a stop to that exploitation, but the indigenous tribes are always at risk for such abuse.”

  I took another drink and set my glass down on a small table to my left. I leaned back in the chair, loosening my collar and stretching out. I would be meeting with Josepe and his son the next morning. He had a sturdy power boat that he planned to take up river. He and the boy would both be armed in the event we met adversity along the way. To say that I wasn’t anxious would be a complete lie. I had to work to remain calm and still the natural inclination of my hands to shake vigorously as I sat beside the old priest. I could feel his eyes on me, and I was certain that he knew more than he let on. Father Dawes was no fool. I’d often wondered if he realized that Frederick and I had been intimate. I had now to ask myself if he knew also that my words in regard to my
relationship with Nekai had been veiled as well. To his credit, he said nothing further on the matter.

  “Well, Father, I must thank you for your hospitality and bid you goodnight. I’ll be rising rather early in the morning I would think. What time do you expect Josepe and his son?” I asked as I stood and stretched.

  “He assured me that he will be here promptly at seven a.m. I’ll have someone wake you at five-thirty. Will that give you enough time to prepare?” he asked, rising to show me to the door.

  “Yes, I would imagine so. I have very little to pack up and what I brought with me won’t take much time to load. What sort of a man is Josepe?”

  “He is rather stoic. He doesn’t have much need for small talk, I think you’ll find. His son, Alandro, however is much more talkative. He’ll entertain you on the trip. I sincerely hope that you won’t have far to go and that you find them all safe and sound. Josepe journeyed to the new village site about two years ago, but they were still having difficulties with enemies at that time and were thinking of moving again. By the way, he does not speak English so you will have to communicate with him via his son. Alandro was educated here in Tucupita at the monastery school, and he speaks fluent Spanish, English and the Warao language. I think you will like the young lad. He is around sixteen or so, very personable too.”

  I thanked Father Dawes for his hospitality and retired to my guest room for the night. It was a simple room with a cot, a dresser, and a desk and chair. I pulled the chair over to the window and opened it. I could hear the river not far away and smell its briny scent. Tomorrow I would be riding against that strong current, upriver and on my way back to the jungle. I could only wonder what I might find.

  *

  “Sir, Lord Heathwood, its five-thirty, sir!” a young but deep and resonant voice called, disrupting my sleep.

  I sat up and shielded my eyes from the bright lamp he held. It was one of the young novices, sent to wake me. He informed me that Father Dawes would have me eat breakfast with him in the main hall, then he would have the novices help me get my luggage and gear down to the docks where we would be meeting Josepe and Alandro. A novice brought me a fresh pitcher of water and some towels, then bowed and left me alone.

  I stood in front of the small mirror and washed up, shaving as best I could in the dim light. I wanted to be as presentable as I could for the journey upriver. It seemed ludicrous to be worried about such a thing as being clean shaven when one was about to make a jungle journey, but I found tranquility in the familiar. Simple gestures like shaving and washing up had meant so much on that long ago trip. When I was properly done up for the day, I dressed in a simple shirt, rolled up the sleeves and stepped into my comfortable trousers and sturdy boots. I pulled on my suspenders and took my jacket up, folding it and laying it over one arm.

  The morning meal passed without incident. I sat silently and ate with the monks, who never spoke during meals. One of them was reading passages of Scripture aloud as they ate. I chanced glances aside at Father Dawes from time to time, but he too was silent. I waited until he was finished. When he rose, I followed him into the hall. He sent for the novices, and they brought my luggage down to the hall and placed it on a small wagon that was hitched to a mule. Father and I walked behind it down to the docks and stood by while everything was loaded into a flat-bottom skiff boat that Father told me belonged to Josepe.

  I had an hour to pass while I waited for my guide and his son. I sat just inside the door to the monastery, the money for Josepe’s services tucked into the front pocket of my breeches. I found it difficult to sit silently, and Father Dawes came out to me from time to time and passed a few words, but he had his duties and I didn’t wish to keep him from them. After what seemed an eternity, I heard a knock at the front doors and one of the novices ran to open them.

  I stood up and turned to watch as two men, clearly Warao from their appearance, stepped over the threshold into view. The novice was speaking Spanish to them, and he gestured toward me. The older of the men, Josepe, I presumed, walked over and extended his hand to me, giving me the once over as he did so. I gripped his hand firmly and returned the appraisal. He was tall and lean with short black hair and piercing eyes. He did not give off the impression of a particularly friendly man, yet he did not seem hostile either. The boy with him, however, was quite another story. I handed the stack of money, exchanged for the local currency, over to Josepe and as he counted it out, Alandro began to speak.

  “Hello, Lord Heathwood, I’m Alandro. This is my father, Josepe. I can speak very good English, but my father can’t speak any. I’ll translate for you. Are you ready to be off? My father is anxious to be getting started. He thinks we can make good time today. We’ll be taking the boat to the old village site and possibly further upriver depending on what the weather does. If it rains, we will have to make camp. Do you want to travel hard today or take the journey easy?” he asked.

  I was so taken aback by his flurry of words that for a moment I could barely formulate an answer. He reminded me of Nekai in a way, but they did not really resemble each other. Alandro was very lean like his father while Nekai had been more muscular. Alandro’s face was boyish and pretty. Nekai’s had been more sensual with his fuller mouth and deep set eyes. Alandro still had a childlike air, but Nekai had been well on his way to resembling a man.

  “I would like to press as far as your father is willing to go today. I want to find them as quickly as possible,” I replied.

  “Good, let’s be off, then, If the weather holds and the boat runs well, we might be able to reach them near dusk,” Alandro answered enthusiastically and with a bright smile. I knew I would like the boy. Father had not been wrong. As if he knew I was thinking of him, he suddenly appeared and clamped his big hand down on my shoulder.

  “Alfred, it has been a real pleasure seeing you again. I hope for success for you in your journey and safety for all of you as you move forward,” he said.

  I nodded and swallowed hard again as I followed Josepe and Alandro outside, my insides quaking at the thought that we might be able to find them before nightfall as Alandro had indicated. We walked down to the docks, and Josepe fed fuel into the boat engine. After a few tries, the engine fired up and he gestured for me to get into the boat with Alandro. I sat in the front and Alandro behind me. Josepe climbed in behind Alandro, and the monks untied the boat and tossed the ropes to Josepe. I turned to look back at the shore, watching as Father Dawes disappeared from view when we rounded a bend in the river.

  At last, back in the jungle, back in the heart of it all. Civilization was left behind me once more. Up ahead waited I knew not what, but I hoped for nothing more than to see him once again and know that he was alive and well. If he was angry with me, then it was anger deserved. If he wanted to harm me for having the gall to return, then so be it. But if he still felt affection for me, even after all these years… That was really too much to hope for, and I doubted if he would even remember me.

  *

  We had been moving for only about thirty minutes or so when I felt something strike my head. I looked up and saw the little monkeys in the trees. I remembered them from the last trip. I felt a lump rise in my throat when I saw Alandro tossing sticks up into the trees and them throwing the sticks back down to him. Nekai had played that very game with those little monkeys all those long years ago. As I watched Alandro play with them, I could almost see Nekai standing there again. I could almost see the sunlight glimmering in those big, brown eyes, shining in his long dark hair. I moved my tongue along the roof of my mouth at the memory of the taste of his tears on our last parting. It came back to me so strongly. I shook my head to clear those distracting thoughts.

  Josepe spoke harshly in Spanish to Alandro, apparently wanting him to stop playing with the monkeys and keep watch. Alandro sat back down and took up his rifle, his eyes moving back and forth from one shore to the other as we went deeper into the jungle. I lost track of time as I watched the scenery go by. From time to time, I n
oticed areas of burnt out trees and greenery. When I gestured to it, Alandro told me that it was from the fighting that had gone on here. I nearly gasped in shock when I saw the bend in the river and the large boulder where last I had seen Nekai and Nekana when we parted. I closed my eyes when we passed that spot. The painful memory was too much for me to bear.

  I knew we were close to the old village site and when we reached it, I was surprised by how overgrown it looked. I could make out the places where the huts had been, and I could see the remains of the village cemetery off to one side but otherwise, the place was desolate. Josepe slowed down as we passed the forlorn place, and it made me sad to think that this place had once been their home, his and Nekai’s.

  And so we pressed on. When the sun was high in the sky, Josepe pulled the boat up to the riverbank and put the engine in idle. He didn’t want to shut it off in case we might need to get away quickly. Alandro took out some food that he had packed up for us and handed me a few pieces of jerky and some dried fruit and cheese. We ate in silence, then Josepe and Alandro got out and walked a few feet into the jungle to relieve themselves. I didn’t feel the need, so I remained in the boat looking around. When I spied a Sobralia nestled amongst the flora on the shore, I nearly upset the boat.