by David Faxon
“Lateri, your daughter...”
He immediately recoiled, knowing exactly what the mine boss had in mind.
“Do as you please. But you may regret it.”
Yeharau walked away. De Santana knew it was only a matter of time.
As he suspected, Yeharau sought him out a few days later, craving alcohol. He accepted the three bottles of whiskey and tobacco, promising that Lateri would be at the bordello the next evening. De Santana smiled, and lifted the tumbler of whiskey to his mouth. Yeharau was ashamed. His only daughter, and he had sacrificed her for whiskey and rum.
The problem arose when Lateri never showed up at the bordello as her father had promised. De Santana’s guests were more than annoyed. He lost face, something he never allowed.
Later at the saloon, he grabbed Yeharau by the throat, the 357 pointed at his head.
“Make sure she is there tonight.”
It had the intended effect.
That night, Lateri said goodbye to her mother who was in tears. She went to the bordello. A drunken Yeharau lay in the corner of his hut, weeping.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Pelting rain. Three straight days with no end in sight. Periodically, the sun broke through long enough to create a steamy caldron of humid air. Once again, the jungle would become awash. Teman-e knew what to expect, but Connery never guessed that torrential downpours like these existed anywhere. In the rainforest there were only two seasons, dry and wet. They measured the passage of time. Subtle changes in the sky, the leaves, the behavior of animals, gave warning to Teman-e. He sensed the coming rains would be unusually harsh.
Over the weeks to come, water would pour into the world's largest basin. Small tributaries would grow into raging rivers, feeding into the mighty Amazon then flowing to the Atlantic on a course more than four thousand miles long. Since prehistoric times, the river basin redistributed tropical heat from the equator and remained a driving force in determining climate around the world. The rain, the river, the trees, and thousands of plant and animal species formed a huge eco-system essential to the planet's health. Something that large and diverse, subject to nature's whims on a grand scale, could turn the rainforest into one of the most dangerous places in the world, particularly during wet season.
Teman-e and Connery, both mud covered, walked, slithered, and crawled for more than a week since the night of their escape. The incessant rain slowed their progress. They continued in an easterly direction to lead the Wakawakatieri away from Teman-e’s village, hoping the weather was as much of a hindrance to the dogged tribe. Eventually, they too would have to cross one of the larger tributaries. There were no signs of Uxhomeb's men, but they sensed their presence. If they could cross soon, there was a good chance they would evade capture and disappear into an extremely treacherous part of the Amazon.
Connery found it increasingly difficult to keep up. Teman-e slackened the pace, knowing he was hurting. The running shoes he found the day after the crash were continuously wet, waterlogged- beginning to fall apart. The tropical climate caused his foot condition to worsen. By the eighth day, he could hardly walk and fell to the ground unable to continue.
Teman-e saw that Connery had removed his shoes, rubbing his jungle rotted feet, obviously in pain. He spoke no words but lifted one of Connery's calves, examined his foot, then disappeared into the bush. Connery, stretched to his limit, drank the last bottle of water. Now that it was gone, he would avoid drinking from streams and try to rely solely on rainwater. His leg wound was healing except for a large boil near the stitches. His ribs were improved, but his feet had become practically useless. Once more, his mood darkened. Maybe I should have died in the plane crash. This was a test, the biggest of his life. So far, he wasn't cutting it, at least in his own mind. He felt despair and some guilt as he looked to Teman-e for everything. Never had he needed to depend on anyone to that extent.
When Teman-e didn't return, Connery thought that maybe he had given up on him, struck out on his own. He couldn't blame him. A whole hour passed before he appeared carrying a type of aloe leaf; the exact medicinal plant needed to cure the condition. Within minutes, he had Connery's feet bound. When he finished, he took the shoes and threw them deep into the jungle, shouting what could have been a curse. Connery said nothing. Teman-e then cut mamure fiber and proceeded to weave a primitive hammock, attaching it to two trees in a place well hidden. It took more than three hours before everything was to his liking. He helped Connery into the hammock.
Night brought another soaking rain. Connery, covered with leaves the size of elephant's ears, stayed relatively dry. He lay awake listening to the rain, thinking about what Teman-e had done for him. Was he so savage? What compelled him to care for a total stranger? He had hoped for something like this, yet was surprised. The more he thought, the more perplexed he became, trying to fathom a dichotomy he couldn't understand. In many ways, this man was better than he. He didn’t deceive, he had compassion. The time would come, however, when he would witness the full extent of Teman-e’s wrath and discover a second personality, one quite different from what he observed thus far.
It took three days before Connery’s feet healed. Teman-e used the time wisely to find food. He killed a snake and found a few lizard eggs. He also found two coconuts on the ground. These he broke open with a stone and they both drank the milk. After he scooped the meat, it left him with a container to catch rainwater. He prepared a mixture of lizard eggs and grubs, then added several pieces of snake meat. He held the coconut bowl to his lips, and sipped the chunky fluid, slowly chewing the protein filled meal, then passed it to Connery. They finished with coconut meat for desert.
Until then, both had communicated mostly by gesturing and pointing. It was time to learn some basic words. Connery initiated the teaching lessons by pointing to different objects, like the snake, saying the word in English. This worked well as long as the discussion centered on objects. He repeated each word several times. He knew he had it right when the Indian smiled. There was no Machi-te word for please or thank you, but they could agree on words like water, river, rain, or food.
Connery thought he understood the Machi-te word for snake after pointing to the remains of the meal. Then he spied a tree snake and said the word again. Teman-e uttered something different. It took a while before he realized the Machi-te spoke one word for a live snake, another for a dead one. This was true for all living things, making communication more challenging. Despite the barriers, they gradually built enough words to understand one another, even make jokes and laugh. That day was a breakthrough in their relationship when Connery learned to speak many Machi-te nouns. Verbs proved much more difficult, however.
After the meal and language lesson, Connery opened his backpack and took out the digital camera. Without thinking, he pointed it at Teman-e. The flash caught him by surprise and he jumped back in fright. He thought it was sorcery and became furious. The situation could have deteriorated rapidly but when Connery showed him the image, he regained his composure, smiled broadly, astonished at the revelation. For just a moment, however, Teman-e revealed the other side to his nature.
The third day Teman-e pointed to Connery's feet, and smiled. Bending down, he removed the aloe leaves carefully and was pleased with the results. The redness was gone, the infection healed. He motioned for his patient to stand.
Connery would have to walk gingerly until his soles toughened, otherwise, he was much better off. The festering boil on his leg needed attention. He found the large needle and cleaned it. He braced himself, bit on a small piece of wood, and cut into his leg, stifling any cry of pain. Teman-e watched the procedure, admiring his stamina and courage.
The time spent recovering proved advantageous. Not only were both strengthened, but more important, they remained undiscovered, safe from the Wakawakatieri. The next day, before dawn, they would leave their enclave.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Uxhomeb found the camp shortly after they left. He examined the hammock, poked
at the remains of food and knew his quarry was not far ahead. He was surprised to find signs that not one, but two men were there only a short while ago. The hammock itself told him they had been there for at least three days. He ordered five of his fastest men to find them alive or their heads would hang from his waist. They knew well enough it was no idle threat. For Uxhomeb, the hunt was now personal. He would forget about raiding villages and find these insects who had humiliated him. He believed they were heading toward a large tributary, but the rains made crossing it near impossible. They would soon be in his grasp.
A four-hour head start should have put more distance between them. Connery, however, had trouble walking. As much as the shoes were a source of infection, they had also protected the soles of his feet. He was as much of a liability now as he was three days ago. Valuable time had been lost and a successful escape was now in jeopardy. He limped along, wondering how much further he could walk. The sky was a cauldron of turbulent storm clouds, rain a few minutes away, sweeping in from the northwest where waters had already begun a massive surge toward them. Connery turned to look behind and his heart sank. Making their way along the river’s edge, were Uxhomeb’s men about two hundred yards away, plainly visible.
“Teman-e! Look!”
Within minutes, they risked discovery and capture. The skies opened and a deluge of water that began in the north, sent the river surging over its banks. This time they welcomed the rain, for it produced a visibility close to zero. They could no longer see the warriors and their enemy couldn’t see them.
The rains and gale winds sent large chunks of soil, uprooted trees, and panicked animals, into the swollen river. A lone warrior appeared, stopping to shield his face from the biting rain. With their hunters so close, there seemed little hope of escape. The two chose to hazard the river. Drowning would be better than facing what Uxhomeb would have in mind for them.
They came to a place where rapid erosion toppled many trees that joined a floating mass of debris careening down river. Others were on the verge of being swept away and would fall within minutes. The wind picked up to almost forty miles an hour, blowing the rain almost horizontal. Teman-e was forced to use gestures, and the few words he knew to communicate what he intended. They would choose the tree closest to toppling, ride it into the river, hoping the roots would slow its break from the soil. It was simple, also extremely dangerous.
He pointed to the one with the most leaves. They inched their way toward it, covered in mud, trying to ignore the roiling water. The tree leaned precariously, held only by a few roots. Connery followed Teman-e, climbing on the swaying trunk as water tore at the embankment. Only yards behind, Uxhomeb’s men made their way along the bank. For the moment, they had lost track of their quarry.
Teman-e clung to the branches, making sure he blended in with the thick leaves. Connery had less cover. This left him partially visible to the fast approaching tribe. The wind howled as the tree dipped nearer the surging water. Connery knew that if he were spotted, Teman-e too would be seen. It made no sense for both to die. His choices were limited. He could drop into the water and risk being swept into the current, or make his way back to the riverbank and lead the warriors away. That decision became unnecessary when the roots broke free, hurling the tree into the river. It moved rapidly away into the fast moving current.
Connery hung tenuously to the underside of the trunk. Under water for what seemed like an eternity, his lungs were near bursting when his head finally broke surface. He gasped for breath, coughing and spitting. No one heard. The Wakawakatieri were aware only that another large tree had fallen, and they moved back to save themselves. Both Teman-e and Connery held on to a water borne craft over which they had no control.
The tree bobbed and rolled, picked up speed and slammed into other objects. But the gamble had paid dividends. They traveled further and faster than any attempt they might have made had they chosen to stay on land. What lay ahead, however, proved treacherous; foaming water, trees colliding with large rocks creating geysers that splashed high, the tree trunks forced straight into the air with each violent impact. The sheer momentum of a twenty-ton tree crashing into rocks could surely kill them in an instant.
A frightened Teman-e was the first to leap, then Connery. Both sunk into the raging turbulence and disappeared. When at last they regained the surface, Connery looked to his friend and saw panic in his eyes. He realized then, Teman-e couldn’t swim. Teman-e tried desperately to avoid going under a second time when an enormous branch hit him full force, knocking him unconscious. His limp body slumped like a rag doll. Connery saw his plight and swam with the current, hoping it would allow him to grab the lifeless form. Large objects appeared from nowhere, moving at rapid speed. He succeeded in dodging them but had make shore quickly or he too would die.
They were nearer to the far side of the river when he caught up, grabbed Teman-e’s arm and held on as the unresponsive body slipped from his grasp. He fought with every bit of his strength to gain purchase on anything that might save them. It was a vine that saved them. He pulled, and with a final heave, felt the riverbed beneath his outstretched toes. He dragged Teman-e onto the shore then collapsed. Connery lay face upward into the rain until he caught his breath. Then he rolled Teman-e on to his back. A sharp slap brought no response.
“Teman-e! Dammit! Wake up!”
Afraid that the severity of the concussion had killed Teman-e, Connery turned him over and pushed on his back until a trickle of water began flowing from his mouth. He continued trying to revive him but with no apparent results. After ten minutes, he felt for a pulse. There was none. Reality struck another blow. Once again, he would be on his own. The man he had counted on, had grown to like, lay still as death. The wind and rain washed over them as he got up and looked despondently at the body. He would find shelter, then return to bury him as best he could.
A short distance away, he found the remains of a giant tree, its hollowed out trunk forming a cave like sanctuary. He expected to see it occupied by an animal loathe to surrendering its protective quarters. Instead, it was empty, relatively dry, a perfect place to bed down and rest. He spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning it out thoroughly, then went back to where he left his friend.
Who was nowhere to be found.
He had left thinking he was dead. He began a search with no success. Connery thought, this could be a good sign. A short while later, Teman-e walked out of the bush holding a hen, its neck wrung, and three eggs in his other hand. Connery grabbed him in a bear hug. In his exuberance, he almost broke the eggs.
“I thought you were dead! You scared me!”
Teman-e grinned. He understood Connery’s emotion.
They walked the fifty yards to the hollowed tree. After so many days of soaking rain and dampness, the dry place was a respite, a welcome haven with grass and twigs for kindling. Uxhomeb’s men were unlikely to be a worry. They were deranged enough to attempt the same crossing, but that wouldn’t be possible for at least another day. Perhaps a small fire might be risked.
They camped that night in the easy glow of a pink and blue sunset that spread its hues over the rain-dampened jungle. The storm had ceased, the chatter of monkeys resumed. Bats, hungry for fruit, darted and swooped in the twilight while owls soared silently into the high trees.
Before darkness, Teman-e gathered enough twigs to last the night, placed some on top of dry grass and flicked the lighter several times before it ignited into glowing flames. He used Connery’s knife to gut and skewer the bird he had caught. Shortly after, the aroma of roast hen filled the wooden cave. They ate ravenously, leaving nothing but cleaned bones, and followed up with raw eggs, topped off with papaya. Both settled into the comfort of the hollowed tree, tasting the warmth of the fire. No words were spoken. Connery, who had dined in the finest restaurants worldwide, could not remember a meal ever tasting that good.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Brasilia
Senator Reyes smiled graciously as he was h
anded a snifter of fine French cognac and a Cuban cigar. His smile broadened when he saw the large envelope on the table in front of him. They were alone in Castelo Branco’s executive office suite on the twenty fifth floor. It was nearing mid- evening, the lights in surrounding high-rise office buildings formed checkered patterns in the city sky. Below, the Esplinada dos Ministerios, illumined a broad path to the president’s palace. Castelo Branco pushed the envelope toward the senator.
“I think you will find this to be adequate for what I am about to ask. I have taken the liberty to include a luxury vacation in Monaco for you and your wife. You will find the accommodations palatial and the gambling allowance quite generous.”
Reyes clenched the cigar in his teeth, opened the envelope, stuffed with reals in denominations of fifties and hundreds. Sure enough, there was a travel folder containing two tickets on Varig Airlines, first class to Nice Airport, with reservations at a five star hotel. He saw that the envelope contained at least fifty thousand reals.
‘I wonder what the sneaky bastard wants that is so important’.
He’d play along, there might be more in it for him. Unless it was something unusually simple, fifty thousand and a paid vacation wasn’t going to do it. Still, he raised his glass and spoke like the true politician he was.
“Senhor, you do honor to me. I toast you. I want you to know you always have access to my office.”
The senator blew a smoke ring, drained his glass then reached for the cognac.
“How can I help?”
“My little gift is to remain confidential, as always. There are those who will oppose what I have in mind. As far as anyone is concerned, I have invited you here to discuss labor issues involving the Indians.”
“Of course! Of course! I will use utmost discretion.”