by G. P. Ching
* * * * *
He woke in the hammock and saw the Achuar boy standing over him. The boy’s hand was on his shoulder, a look of concern on his features. Light cascaded through the window. Jacob could hear the village coming alive outside.
Suddenly, he was aware of a burning in his fist, his fingernails cutting into his palm. Opening his fingers, he saw the red stone. He’d been holding the flat disc so tightly that the edges had cut into his palm and blood ran over its smooth, surface.
The Achuar boy’s eyes grew wide. A jumble of words spilled from his lips in the rhythm of a prayer or incantation. He was speaking Achuar but somehow, just like in his dream, Jacob knew exactly what his words meant. The prayer was for protection from the Earth Mother’s wrath for allowing his guest to steal one of her precious red stones. He rubbed his eyes and blinked at Jacob.
“It’s okay,” Jacob said. “She gave it to me.” The words sounded strange to his ears and he was surprised when the boy seemed to understand. Either he’d just spoken perfect Achuar or he was hallucinating again.
The boy turned to the corner of the hut. From inside a woven basket, he pulled out a black cord that looked as if it was originally some kind of animal tendon. He handed it to Jacob and motioned toward his neck. The stone fit perfectly in the loop at the base and Jacob tied the cord around his neck. He gave a nod of thanks to the boy.
He left the hut with the surreal feeling of walking straight out of a dream. Tucking the stone inside his shirt, he decided he did not trust Dr. Silva enough to tell her about it. After last night, he wasn’t sure he could trust her at all.