“Sweet.” Lucy opened the bag and held it out to Amanda, who popped a grape into her mouth and winked.
Late that night the girls lay on their backs in the grass watching the stars wheel across the sky. Lucy missed her home terribly then. Most humans, she knew, saw the jungle of Congo as a vast, humid trap of malarial mosquitoes. But to Lucy the forest was home. Her father had taught her how to read the waves of weather that promised a rich harvest of pink mushrooms and swarms of delicious termites, how to follow the itaba vine to its sweet roots. She learned the faint insect sounds that led to honey. All of that bounty came to them from the forest. And when the forest was done with them, it took them down and redistributed their materials to other creatures, no less deserving. That’s what her father had told her.
But humans must have forgotten all of that long ago, he had said. The forest had come to seem hostile, impenetrable, perhaps evil. They had cut it and burned it and denounced it. They became a homeless people filled with longing and bedeviled by a subconscious craving to get back to the rich tenderness of the forest. And now Lucy wondered if she believed any of that at all. Those were her father’s thoughts, not hers. But what did she believe?
“I gotta get some sleep,” Amanda said.
Lucy rose from the forest floor. A big moon had come up to light their way. She took Amanda’s hand and led her deeper into the forest, saying, “Now, since you’ve spent so much time teaching me the ways of your culture, I’m going to show you a jungle trick.”
Lucy skittered up a tree so fast that Amanda said, “Dude, you really are so the Jungle Girl. How’d you do that?”
“Come on up.”
“What on earth for?”
“We’re sleeping up here.”
“Are you crazy?”
But at length Lucy coaxed Amanda into the tree. With great difficulty she began to climb, muttering curses under her breath. “Crap, I’m gonna have to get my nails done again.” Lucy directed her to sturdy branches. As Amanda came within reach, Lucy grabbed her wrist and pulled her up.
“O-M-G. Okay, this is really high. What now?”
“Now I make you a bed.” Lucy began breaking branches and weaving them together.
“No way. How do you do that?”
“Just practice.” Lucy built her own nest close enough to Amanda’s so that they could talk.
“You slept like this in the jungle?”
“Yeah. I slept in a bed sometimes, too.”
“What did your parents think?”
“Well, my mother slept with me.”
“What? In the trees?”
“Yeah, she taught me.”
“What was she, some kind of Congolese tribal person there?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Wow.”
And at that moment Lucy felt the same urge that she’d felt in bed with Amanda, and it made her want to blurt out the truth. Lucy felt cheated. Here they were at last with the vastness of this old forest embracing them, their shared solitude, the perfect moment of communion. Yet Amanda had no idea who Lucy really was. Lucy wanted to rebel against it, to claim and use what was rightfully hers. She desperately wanted Amanda to know her now.
“So what about your dad?” Amanda went on, seemingly unaware of the momentous transformation that was about to take place.
“He slept in our cabin.” Lucy’s voice was flat and dry now. What is there in life, she wondered, if not this moment, this friend, this time? It had to be now.
“So you and your mom would … what? Say, G’night, Pa, we’re heading for the trees?”
“Yeah, more or less. He was used to it. See, my mom was an ape.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
The truth hung between them, invisible to Amanda. And Lucy realized that there was nothing, really nothing, that she could add that would have convinced Amanda in that moment, no stigmata she could show that would settle the matter once and for all.
“Okay, climb in.” Lucy felt empty and alone. For Amanda could not even entertain the possibility that what she’d heard was true. To her it was nothing more than an offhanded joke. Lucy understood: If she could find no place to live in Amanda’s mind, how could she live in her heart? She lay her head down and closed her eyes.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired.”
“Okay. I think on the whole I prefer a nice hotel with cable TV and a shower, but what-ever.”
In the morning they climbed down and hiked through moraines of granite and glacial debris. They climbed to the top of an esker and walked its ridge, looking down on balsam and spruce. They descended into a forest of thin aspens and saw pink and white lady’s slipper growing in the understory. When they reached the shore, they heard a loon calling from afar. The day was warm, and they had both sweated through their shirts. At Daniels Lake, they set down their packs and took off their clothes to splash in the shallows, shrieking at the shock of cold water. After they’d washed off the sweat and dirt from the hike, they sat naked on a rock to dry their dripping hair in the sun. They nibbled on dried fruit and nuts and shooed away a whiskey jack that came begging.
They sat in silence for a time, breathing in the forest air, and watching a soft breeze make patterns on the water. After a while, Lucy stiffened and said, “Watch this.” She pointed at the sky.
“What?”
“Just watch.”
An osprey fell from the sky and hit the water like a stone shattering a ceramic dish. A moment later the bird was airborne with an improbably large fish in its talons.
“Wow,” Amanda said, “that was really intolerably cool. How’d you know he was going to do that?”
“I don’t know.”
Amanda passed Lucy a plastic bag of nuts. “Lucy, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What does it feel like when you wrestle guys?”
“Well, I get all excited, and it makes me quicker and stronger.”
“It always seems like it would, you know, turn you on and you wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
“I think when I first wrestled with Wes it was like that. I’m not sure. But the excitement I feel focuses me. When I’m in a match it’s like the other guy is moving in slow motion. I can see what he’s about to do and take my time to plan my next move. And it gets very quiet except for certain things that I can hear very clearly.”
“Like what?”
“Like his breathing. I can smell him and know if he’s afraid. And sometimes it’s like I’m looking at him through a tunnel. It’s really cool. The room goes away. I don’t hear the crowd. All there is in the world is this lonely guy, placing himself in front of me like a king about to be checkmated.”
“Damn.”
They fell silent and watched the water. Then Lucy asked, “Amanda. Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Are you kidding? Everybody thinks you’re beautiful. Haven’t you noticed the trail of boys fainting in your wake?”
“Get out. You’re making fun of me.”
“A little. But you are beautiful. You don’t look like anyone else I’ve ever seen.”
“I think you’re beautiful, too.”
Amanda lifted her chin, exposing her neck, and said, “Aww …”
“No. I really mean it.”
Again they fell into themselves, picking at the dried fruit. Lucy traced her finger along the patterns that were etched into the flat expanse of rock.
“Wanna go?” Amanda asked.
“Sure. Let’s take a different way home.”
“You know the way?”
“Yeah.”
They dressed and shouldered their packs and hiked south along the western shore. After a mile, they entered the old forest, dark and strange. Lucy felt her heart quicken. She knew this place, northern jungle. As they penetrated into the interior, its darkness stole the sky and left them in a chaotic world churning with life and destruction. Where any light came, it dropped in great pillars and
slim shafts, illuminating a mist that smelled of clove and myrrh mixed with the aroma of dying leaves.
“This is so beautiful.”
Lucy led on through heavy old pine and fir, hung with ancient streamers of silver moss, towering out of a maddening tangle of deadfall, brush, and vines. They left the trail and entered an eternal twilight, where they saw a radiant darkness escape the forest and overspread the open land beyond. And only when the breeze came up to ripple the water did Amanda recognize that she was seeing a deep black lake, alive with fish. They made their way to the shore and stopped.
They heard the pebbles rattle as the waves withdrew. When a breeze came up, the aspen leaves clattered like coins. They heard a sneeze in the forest.
“Bear.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“No.”
“I’m a little scared here, Lucy. It’s so spooky. Beautiful, but spooky.”
Lucy felt Amanda’s hand touch hers as they stood side by side looking out. Lucy put her arm around Amanda’s waist, and Amanda leaned into her. They stood for another moment and Amanda turned toward Lucy. Lucy could smell the sun on her skin. Then they were kissing. Lucy tasted her and felt a warm energy rush through her. Amanda’s lips were so soft, her tongue so sweet. And then just like that it was over. Trembling, they held each other for a moment longer.
“You’re yummy,” Amanda said, and then they laughed and broke the spell.
They hiked the rest of the way back to the cabin, lost in their private thoughts. Jenny greeted them with obvious relief. She had a tuna casserole in the oven. Candles made the pine walls of the cabin glow and the shadows squirm. Jenny listened to the tales of their adventure as they ate. Amanda showed her the photo of the moose on her digital camera.
“Were you aware, Dr. Lowe, that your daughter sleeps in trees?”
Lucy saw Jenny flinch at the question. Jenny stilled herself and smiled. “Yes. So I’ve heard.”
After dinner Lucy felt very tired and excused herself to go to bed early. Jenny and Amanda made a fire and stayed up talking. Lucy could hear the murmur of their voices and their laughter as she began to feel the chills. The last thing she would later recall was Amanda slipping into bed next to her and then leaping out again as if she’d been burned.
18
IT WAS ALMOST TEN O’CLOCK when Amanda and Jenny said goodnight. Jenny stayed up to read a few more pages of her book before going to bed. But a moment later Amanda emerged from the bedroom looking concerned. “You’d better come and take a look at Lucy. I think she’s sick.” Jenny felt a wave of fear wash over her.
Rushing into the room, she found Lucy shivering with the covers pulled up to her neck. When Jenny touched her cheek, Lucy moaned.
“What is it?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t know. Stay with her. I’ll get a thermometer.”
Lucy was running a fever of 103 degrees. Jenny was unable to coax her into swallowing an ibuprofen tablet. Lucy seemed only half conscious. “Get a wet washcloth. Quick.”
Jenny heard the water running and a moment later Amanda returned with a bowl of water and a cloth. They spent the night ministering to Lucy, who occasionally jerked and cried out in her sleep. Amanda fell asleep in a chair at around four o’clock, and Jenny continued wetting the cloth and gently sponging Lucy off. Lucy’s fever went up and down all night, spiking at 105. It broke at last at dawn and Jenny fell into her chair in the living room, exhausted. She woke in a sweat three hours later. The day was already hot. She went to check on the girls and found them sleeping.
Jenny put the coffee on and waited, looking out the window. The forest was alive with the racket of birds. Light fell in wheeling spokes through the forest canopy and lay in pools on the carpet of pine needles. Jenny thought over what she knew that might help. Bonobos were vulnerable to most of the same diseases that humans contract, in addition to a few more exotic ones that didn’t affect people. If Lucy’s fever continued, she’d need medical attention. They were a twelve-hour drive from the only doctor Jenny could trust. There was no mobile phone signal, so she couldn’t even call Harry for advice.
As she took a sip of coffee, she heard a thrashing, choking sound and ran to the bedroom to find Lucy having convulsions. Amanda stood beside the bed, eyes wide, her hand over her mouth in shock. Jenny sat on the bed and held Lucy tight as she bucked beneath her. Think and be calm, Jenny told herself. Don’t let fear overwhelm you.
“Go to the owner’s house. Down the path. Run. Tell them we need an ambulance.” Amanda seemed frozen to the spot, watching Lucy in horror. “Go!”
Jenny watched Amanda bolt out the door, then turned back to Lucy. She held her hand. “Hang on, honey. Hang on. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Just stay with me.” Then Jenny sponged her off and saw that her own hands were shaking. Half an hour later the Forest Service ambulance came crunching up the drive with its red lights searing across the cabin walls.
From the bedside, Jenny told Amanda, “Pack our things. Follow in the car.”
The paramedic put in an IV line and gave Lucy oxygen. Jenny rode in the ambulance, holding Lucy’s hand. It took an hour to reach the county medical center outside of Grand Marais. But the doctors there were unprepared for such a case, and a helicopter was called to take Lucy to Duluth. Jenny was waiting for it when Amanda arrived.
They sat in the emergency room on either side of Lucy. Curtains separated them from other beds. There was nothing to say. At one point Lucy opened her eyes and looked around.
“Lucy!” Amanda said. But she didn’t respond.
When the helicopter arrived, Jenny told Amanda to bring the car to the hospital in Duluth and rode in the helicopter, holding headphones over Lucy’s ears against the noise.
Skimming low over the forest, they reached the hospital in less than an hour. Much as Jenny didn’t want anyone to have a drop of Lucy’s blood, she knew that it would do no good to protect their secret if Lucy died as a result. She had no choice but to let them treat her. With a deep sense of dread, she signed the consent form. Lucy was in intensive care within half an hour. Amanda arrived about an hour later while the hospital lab was processing blood tests.
Amanda called her mother to let her know that she would be at least a couple of days late coming home. Jenny heard Amanda say, “I’m fine, Mother. I’m feeling just fine.” And: “No, I want to stay with Lucy. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do.” Then with a disgusted look she handed Jenny the phone. “She wants to talk to you. She thinks I’m going to get sick.”
Jenny assured the girl’s mother that Amanda was not in the way, had in fact been a great help. She also pointed out that the two girls had been together continuously. If Amanda had been exposed to something contagious, sending her home now would do no good. And they were, after all, in a hospital. Jenny said, “As a mother, I know how you feel.” She had never said anything like that before. But for the first time in her life, Jenny knew the truth about being a mother: That there was a fate worse than death.
“Okay,” Amanda’s mother said at last. “Okay, please take care of my baby.”
Jenny and Amanda stayed with Lucy through the night. The only sign of life from her was an occasional muscle spasm accompanied by a haunting animal cry. The night nurse came and changed the IV bag. Jenny and Amanda tried to doze off in the chairs but found sleeping nearly impossible. Jenny rose and washed her face when the first light of day leaked in through the curtains.
When the doctor appeared at last, he said, simply, “Let’s go to my office where we can talk.” His nametag said Dr. P. Syropolous.
Amanda and Jenny followed him down the hall. He closed the door before beginning. Jenny knew that this was not a good sign. She could feel fear descending into her gut as Dr. Syropolous began. “Well, basically I have bad news and good news. Lucy has a disease called encephalomyocarditis, or EMCV It’s a very serious illness, a virus that affects the brain and heart.”
When he said the words, Jenny felt her heart lea
p with alarm. Now she knew what she had to do. She saw no point in beating around the bush. If he was going where she thought he was going with this, then all she could do was buy a little time. She might as well tackle things head-on.
“What? What is it?”
Jenny put her hand on Amanda’s arm to still her. Then she turned to the doctor and said, “Yes, I know it. It’s treatable with the poly-l-lysine complex, but it’s not usually symptomatic.”
He looked surprised. “Are you a doctor?”
“Not the kind you mean. I teach in the anthropology department at the University of Chicago.”
“I see. Well, then you’ll probably know that she should make a complete recovery. We’ve started her on PLL, which, as you point out, is the correct treatment. Fortunately, we’ve caught this within the first twenty-four hours of the illness, so you can congratulate yourself for having brought her in so quickly. And we at Mercy Hospital can congratulate ourselves for having a lot of good serological people, because frankly, I’m not sure I’d have caught on to what this was so quickly without them. In any event, we should see Lucy start to improve as early as tomorrow.”
“She’ll be okay?” Amanda asked.
“That’s correct.”
“That’s good,” Jenny said. “That’s great news. When do you think she can go home?”
“Is it contagious? My mother wants to know. I never get sick.”
“Well, that brings me to my next point about Lucy’s condition. Yes, in fact, EMCV is contagious. She has a variant of the virus known as EMCV thirty slash eighty-seven. The trouble is …” He seemed reluctant to go on. He removed his glasses and looked around the room as if he’d lost his sight.
“What?” Amanda asked.
Jenny felt her stomach turn over. She already knew what he was going to say. For there was a catch. And Jenny was hoping that a doctor in Duluth, Minnesota, wouldn’t be aware of it.
Lucy Page 13