Deep In The Jungle

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Deep In The Jungle Page 2

by Gerry Griffiths

Ally was getting to know James Donner and Kathy Beckerman, a couple with plans to marry once they earned their degrees. They spoke of their tree climbing experience the day before and how much they enjoyed it. James was a biology student with a minor in dendrology, which he further explained was the study of trees. Kathy’s major was ornithology.

  Halfway into the voyage, Macky pointed off the starboard side of the boat. “Hey, everyone, there’s a pod of dolphins.”

  Dillon hung over the gunwale to get a better look.

  “Careful there,” Frank said, grabbing the back of Dillon’s floatation vest before the boy fell overboard.

  Six pink dorsal fins could be seen twenty feet off in the current.

  The driver slowed the boat down to about ten miles per hour.

  Macky gave the man an appreciative wave. He turned to the group and said, “Amazon river dolphins aren’t particularly fast swimmers. Don’t expect to see them diving across the bow like in videos.”

  “I always thought dolphins were gray,” Wanda said.

  “The young ones are,” Macky said. “These turn pink as they gradually become adults.”

  “They sure are big fish,” Dillon said.

  “Well, they’re really mammals. See their blowholes?”

  “But I thought you knew all about fish?”

  “And other things,” Macky said, and then looked over at Frank.

  “Dillon is very analytical,” Frank said.

  “What’d you call me?”

  Macky reached over and patted Dillon on the knee. “I think your father said you are a lot like Mr. Spock, you know, on Star Trek.”

  Dillon’s face lit up. “Cool.”

  5

  Once the boat docked, everyone collected their backpacks and travel luggage and disembarked one at a time. They headed down the narrow wharf stretching over the shallow water to the shore where three lodge employees were waiting.

  The head guide introduced himself as Ignacio. He was Brazilian-born and wore a clean white t-shirt with the lodge’s name across the front, a pair of dark brown khakis, and hiking boots. A shock of black hair stuck out under the brim of a white ball cap also sporting the resort’s emblem.

  The two men standing on each side of Ignacio were Enzo and Murilo, who were identical twins. Their only distinguishing feature was their attire—atop bare feet and cargo shorts, Enzo was wearing a green work shirt and Murilo had on a blue one.

  For five minutes Ignacio gave his well-rehearsed greeting, welcoming everyone to the Black Caiman Jungle Lodge and Resort and briefly touching on the highlights of the adventures in store for the week to come. Once he was through, Ignacio asked Frank and Wanda to follow him while Enzo assisted Ryan, Ally, and Dillon, and Murilo showed the college students to their accommodations.

  The entire resort was raised on a stilts, twenty feet above the ground—Ignacio said it was necessary because of the floodwaters during the rainy season—with catwalks branching off from the main lodge, leading to the different guests’ rooms.

  Once they arrived at their quarters, Frank thanked Ignacio, who smiled and walked off down the railed catwalk.

  “Don’t expect it to be too fancy, but I think it will be comfortable,” Frank said to Wanda as he held the door open.

  She walked in and looked around the room. A sitting area in the corner had two high-back wicker chairs and end tables constructed of rattan with basket-weaved tops. Rafters crisscrossed eight feet above her head, the high-pitched thatch roof stretching another ten feet up to a peak. There was no air conditioning unit or even a ceiling fan.

  Instead, there were two screen mesh windows on opposite walls to allow a cross breeze to cool the room, which at the moment had to be over 80 degrees.

  After a moment studying the white mosquito netting suspended over the large four-post bed, Wanda turned to Frank. “I take it this is the honeymoon suite?”

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

  Wanda waltzed up to Frank, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips.

  “I take it you approve.”

  “Let’s just say—”

  “Hey, there’s a monkey in our room!” It was Ally’s voice coming through the window from the guest room next door.

  “Can I play with it?” Dillon asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe later,” Ryan said. “Come on, out you get, shoo.”

  Wanda looked up at Frank, doing her best to keep a straight face, as they listened to the commotion next door; the jungle guest apparently reluctant to leave. “Maybe you should go over there.”

  “They’ll sort it out,” Frank said as he smiled and kissed his wife.

  6

  Ally couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She looked over the edge of the platform down through the trees to the ground, one hundred feet below. Half of her was scared to death but the other half was pumped. It was the same nervous rush she always got before exploding out of the blocks during a track meet.

  While she adjusted the chinstrap on her helmet, Enzo was double checking her rigging. He cinched up her waist belt and made sure her harness was properly connected to the pulley.

  “Is this your first time?” James asked Ally. He and Kathy were also geared up with helmets and harnesses as they stood by waiting their turn.

  “Yes,” she replied, trying to sound brave.

  “Don’t worry,” James assured her. “Kathy and I have done this a few times. It’s fairly safe.”

  “Fairly?” Ally said, unable to conceal the fear in her voice.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Kathy piped in, elbowing James hard enough to make him step precariously close to the edge.

  “Whoa, are you trying to kill me?” James said, even though there was no real threat of him falling as he was temporarily tethered to the massive tree trunk that the platform was built around.

  Enzo patted Ally on the shoulder to signal he was through with his safety inspection and she was ready to go.

  “Remember what we told you earlier. Use your dominant hand to brake,” Kathy said.

  Ally tugged on the wristbands of her double-layer leather gloves to make sure they were snug. She set her weight down on the harness’s butt straps, reached as far back as she could with her right hand and grabbed the overhead cable, that hand being the one she would use to brake herself.

  “Have fun,” James said.

  Ally leaned back and her feet left the platform as she sped down the zip line through the rainforest. She was actually gliding down on her back with her boots out in front. Her left hand held on tight to the lanyard connected to the pulley running down the cable, designed to prevent her from spinning during her descent.

  At first she controlled her speed by over braking, then gradually eased up, allowing her momentum to build up. The cable whined loudly above her head. The faster she went, the louder it became, like the building intensity of a jet engine.

  She gazed over the tips of her boots as the forest rushed at her, narrowly missing branches as she sped past tree trunks so close, she might have been able to reach out and touch them if she’d had a free hand. At the moment, she was too busy controlling her ride.

  It was so incredible. She felt like a bird swooping through the jungle.

  The thrill lasted for over a minute.

  Soon the slack in the cable slowed her descent as she reached another platform at the end of the line where Murilo was waiting.

  The guide helped her to stop so she could stand. He attached her safety tether and unhooked the pulley from the cable. “How was your trip?” he asked.

  Ally gave him a big smile. “That was really fun.”

  She could hear James whooping it up as he barreled down the zip line.

  Already, this was becoming a vacation she would never forget.

  7

  Even though Frank was confident and knew his way around the jungle, he thought as long as they were paying for the service, he should let Ignacio take them on a nature hike.

/>   Ryan had asked if it was okay if he hung out with Ben, Jackie, and Macky as they had invited him to join them as they had separate plans. Wanda didn’t see why not as Ally was off with James and Kathy spending the afternoon on the zip line.

  It was important everyone had a good time. Ryan had developed a comradeship with the three since their arrival, and it was good for him to spend time with people his own age, not to mention what he might learn from the students.

  The trail was well-trodden and the weather was hot. It wasn’t so much the heat but the insufferable humidity that made it so unbearable. To keep away the mosquitoes, everyone wore long sleeve shirts and long pants to cover their skin, which only made them sweat more.

  Frank could tell by Wanda’s expression she was uncomfortable.

  “You know, we can go back any time.”

  “It’s no cooler back at the room. Besides, I think Dillon’s having fun,” Wanda replied. She wore a tan ranger hat with a neck shade. Sweat beaded her forehead.

  Twenty minutes into their hike, Dillon exclaimed, “Look at the walking leaves.”

  The path was alive with hundreds of tiny pieces of green vegetation, marching across the dirt.

  Ignacio stood next to the boy and looked down at the ground. “Those are leafcutter ants carrying bits of leaves they have chewed off the plant.” He pointed toward a large mound of dirt not far from the trail. “That’s their colony.”

  Dillon stooped to get a closer look.

  “Be careful they don’t crawl on you,” Frank warned. “They do bite.”

  The boy was not afraid but moved back anyway. “Are they going to eat the leaves?”

  “No, not exactly,” Frank said. “They use the leaves to harvest fungi and eat that. And they’re pretty strong. They can carry fifty times their own weight.”

  “Wow,” Dillon said, truly amazed.

  “That would be like you lifting your mother’s car up over your head and carrying it down the street.”

  “Cool.”

  They walked on the outer edge of the path so as not to disturb the industrious ants and continued following Ignacio down the trail.

  During their hike they encountered a young six-foot-long boa constrictor slithering through the debris. Ignacio didn’t have any problem picking it up to show off the large snake.

  “Would you like for me to put it on your shoulders?” Ignacio asked Wanda.

  “Do what?”

  “He won’t let it hurt you,” Frank said.

  “All right. Snakes I don’t mind,” Wanda said.

  Ignacio held onto the back of the snake’s head and draped the body behind Wanda’s neck. The tip of the serpent’s tail slowly began to coil around her wrist. She moved her hand away so she could feel its thick body.

  “It’s heavier than I would have imagined.”

  Frank pulled out his camera and took a picture.

  Dillon was excited. “Gosh, Mom. You look like Sheena: Queen of the Jungle.”

  “Well, thank you, Dilly. I think,” Wanda replied.

  Ignacio lifted the big snake off of Wanda’s shoulders. He carried it back to the same spot where he had found it and let it go.

  A few minutes later, Dillon got his chance to hold a sloth. After some deliberation, Ignacio was able to untangle the animal from a low hanging branch. The brown-furred animal was around fifteen pounds and had long curved claws that looked lethal. The guide assured Wanda the claws were not used as weapons but rather so the sloth could hang effortlessly from tree branches.

  As soon as Ignacio put the sloth against Dillon’s chest, the creature wrapped its long arms around the boy.

  Frank smiled. “I think he likes you.”

  The sloth took its time to turn his head and looked at Frank.

  “How come it moves so slow?” Dillon asked.

  “Sloths have a very slow metabolism as they only eat leaves, which take longer for their stomachs to digest, so they have less energy. They process food so slow, they only have to go to the bathroom once a week.”

  “Once a week? I couldn’t hold it a week!” Dillon said.

  “What’s even stranger is they come down to the ground to do their business. Even dig a hole and bury it. Much like a housecat.”

  “That’s weird.”

  For being a wild animal just plucked out of a tree, the sloth seemed content to be treated as a trusted pet and held by Dillon.

  This time, Wanda took the picture with her smartphone.

  ***

  “So, do you fish much at home?” Macky asked, sitting near the bow of the canoe provided by the resort, holding on to the end of his bamboo pole.

  “There’s a lake not too far from where we live. Catfish and trout mostly,” Ryan replied. He sat near the stern, watching his line in the murky water and anxiously waiting for a strike. They were about half an hour away from the lodge and had found a cove to fish.

  The tip of Ryan’s thin rod dipped into the water.

  “There you go,” Macky said.

  Ryan pulled up on his fishing pole, the end still under the surface. “Putting up a pretty good fight.”

  “It’s their aggressive nature.”

  Lifting steadily so as not to snap the line, Ryan managed to pop the small fish out of the water. At first glance, it looked like a crappie, a fish he might have caught back home. He swung the fish into the middle of the boat.

  Macky leaned his pole against the gunwale and reached over, grabbing the fish thrashing in the boat. “You have to be careful. One good bite, and they can take off a finger.”

  Ryan watched Macky grip the fish firmly just behind the gills and carefully pry the hook out of its mouth. A small piece of meat was still on the barbs.

  The piranha snapped at the bait like a ferocious attack dog.

  “Whoa,” Ryan said, awestruck at the fish’s viciousness. He couldn’t take his eyes off the razor-sharp teeth.

  “They have incredibly strong jaws. Those teeth have no other purpose than to rip flesh.”

  The upper and lower rows of teeth were set closely together, each tooth looking like it had been filed to a sharp tip.

  “Actually, piranhas are essential to this ecosystem,” Macky explained. “That’s because they eat anything, dead or alive. Helps to reduce decay matter in the water.”

  “Tell me they don’t get any bigger than this,” Ryan said, his fish being close to four inches in length.

  “Try ten inches long. Swim into a school that size, and they’d strip you to the bone in a matter of minutes.” Macky offered the fish to Ryan. “You want to keep it?”

  “Nah, but let me get a picture.” Ryan took out his smartphone and took a few photos. “You can let it go.”

  Macky smiled and dropped the fish over the side. “Good. Catch and release, I like that.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be in the mood for fish for awhile after looking at that ugly mug.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t see the main entree for tonight’s dinner?”

  “No,” Ryan said. “What are we having?”

  “Grilled piranha.”

  8

  A massive round mahogany table took up most of the main dining room. Frank, Wanda, and Dillon were seated together. Ally sat between James and Kathy. Next to her were Ben, then Ryan, Jackie, and Macky. The smaller tables against the walls were all vacant, Ignacio anticipating the arrival of more guests in a week’s time.

  Stylish candelabras on the tabletop offered suitable lighting, giving the culinary hut a warm ambience. There were ice water pitchers and uncorked bottles of wine on the table. The room was decorated with jungle art and detailed wooden sculptures of black jaguars and ebony caiman. Two blue macaws were perched on swings in an airy cage at the entryway.

  Enzo and Murilo were subbing as waiters, transporting serving platters in from the kitchen. They were also the cooks and the housekeepers as the rest of the staff wasn’t due to report for wor
k until the next batch of guests arrived.

  The first entree was shrimp bobo, a split pea-looking chowder made from pureed shrimp mixed with coconut milk, served with baskets of freshly baked bread and little porcelain cups filled with requeijao, which was like a salty cream cheese.

  For the next course, Enzo brought in dishes of already sliced portions of polenta, a cornmeal that looked like sausage. Murilo came into the dining room, pushing a cart with bowls of rice, beans, and chayote squashes.

  Enzo returned to the kitchen with his cart and came out wheeling two large serving platters, one with succulent browned chicken breasts just off the grill.

  Macky grinned as he looked over at Ryan. “Bon appetite.”

  “You weren’t kidding,” Ryan said, staring at the mound of grilled piranha on the other platter.

  “Be careful, as the teeth are very, very sharp,” Enzo warned everyone.

  Wanda forked a fish, put it on her dish, and sliced off the head. She slid the rest onto Dillon’s plate. “Watch for bones.”

  “Can I keep the head?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  ”Why not?”

  “Better eat, before your food gets cold.”

  Dillon picked up his fork and dove in, his plate already filled with rice and beans.

  Ryan took a bite of fish and looked over at Macky. “Not bad, but I think I’ll stick to trout.”

  “An acquired taste, eh?”

  “You might say that.” Ryan took the time to scrape the meat off the tiny skeleton and got maybe two forkfuls; a lot of work for nothing, like cracking open crab legs and only getting a few strips of meat.

  Everyone delved in, preparing their plates, passing bowls and platters to the person sitting next to them.

  Ben cut a slice of chicken and popped it in his mouth then turned to Ryan. “How would you like to join Jackie and me and go see an indigenous tribe?”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know what we have scheduled,” Ryan said.

  “You should,” Jackie piped in. “You’d find it really interesting. Besides, we’ll only be gone two days.”

 

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