CHAPTER THREE...PROLOGUE
A lover's embrace, the two men slow danced to American Country music in the early hours of the morning long after the bar and Restaurant "Gringo Chili" had closed.They were alone among the stale smoke fumes, the remains of body stench commingled with spilt alcohol, and the jangle of all that limp libido a man throws off with his tequila when a whore just won't do and he's missing home and even his wife. They turned in a slow circle, swaying with the music. One man, the bigger ,latino ,of the two, began to strain as he struggled to support the weight of the other who ,shorter and until this moment wearing a cowboy hat, danced lifelessly.The cowboy hat landed brim side down in a puddle of blood as the big man brought this smaller, flyweight man with dirty blonde hair, light skin and freckles on his face,with a great bear hug lift up to his eye level and looked at him in the face through his thick glasses. The lesser man opened his eyes and gasped. The heavier, and now by the light of the juke box discernible as the much older man, twisted the knife that was in the flyweight's chest and with a great oozing of blood the man went limp.
The heavier man dropped the dead man to the floor on his back, knocking over some chairs.He withdrew the 8 inch long hunter's knife. a little more than half of which was a thick upturned blade and the rest, a handle of black buffalo horn that showed chips and scratches as he wiped the blood first with his finger and then looking slowly about the half-lit room decided on his pants, which were already red in the front, to clean his knife.. He chose the side of his pants leg where there was no blood, cleaned it in a cursory manner,his hand as well, and put the knife on the wooden food preparation counter.There he picked up a meat cleaver.. He bent over the dead man with a meat cleaver and whacked at his ribcage until he reached the man's heart which he eviscerated tugging with his hands and once free, put it along with the meat cleaver on the wooden food preparation counter.
From a barrel he threw sawdust and blood clotted wherever it landed on the filthy linoleum- and not just from this gringo - there had been two broken beer bottle fights that night. The Gringo ambulance from the oil workers dispensary had come twice and hauled off the victims. The local Police had come and gone twice two and the large man as owner of the establishment did all he could to conceal any evidence that might incriminate his niche market of American Oil workers. He told the police he thought they had been attacked by Colombians who had slipped over the border only eirht miles away in robbery attempts, but with his limited etyesight and the fact that the place was so busy he could never be sure. He sent them on their way each time with a bribe, a small present for having been so vigilant and in their reorts they would write nothinmg at all for attenpted robbery would look bad with the gringo authi=orities and just like that they might forbid their workers from coming to his estasblshment.
With a powerful hose he worked the bloody sawdust down the large grease trap near the stove that led to the sewer system. He made sure there was enough liquid not to clog the drain.He ran his knife under the hose while he held it and water splashed his thick glasses. He cursed under his breath and let the hose run on the floor while he wiped his glasses dry with his shirt. Satisfied that the bar was clean. He put another several dollars in the juke box and chose some tunes at random.Finally, he took the heart from the counter wrapped it in cellophane and put it in his stainless steel industrial freezer.
He locked up the back door to Gringo Chili and let Cristobal his Rotweiler out of his crate and through the driver's side, the dog leapt into the cabinto take his place beside the man. He turned on the cabin lights to examine the stitches in the dog's left stifle and grunted his satisfaction.
A drug dealer had given the highly bred dog up after he had challenged it to a pit bull in one of the weekly organized fights that the man tried not to miss. The dog had the strongest "prey drive"directed toward humans he had ever seen as he mangled two men for the owner's pleasure the week before. But the coke dealer, with his gold handled ebony cane that he used to thrash whoever did not please him did not understand the science of pit bullfighting and the pit bull, a ten fight veteran, scarred and freshly stitched was perfectly trained for killing other dogs. only the pit bull owners fear of retribution from the drug dealer, from the fierce ignorant heart of machismo had him pull his dog off so that both of them, the dog and the man, would live to fight another day. The dealer turned his back on his canine weapon as it bled in the ring.The big man assesed the situation carefully then recklessly measured his chances and stole away with the wounded mankiller, his clothes not unlike tonight covered with blood,he had carried the 40 pound dog close against his body the 300 yards to his truck and then used his shirt to staubch the bleeding. For good measure he bound the dogs muzzle with cord. The dog was slow to heal but the man taught him to respect his new owner even as he encuraged with cruelt his "prey drive" against all other humans.They were fast friends he chuckled. The kind that should never turn their backs on each other.
He drove through the now sleeping town of Agua Dulce and just outside the town limits with its smoothly paved macadam he veered to a dirt tract that put him in remnant growth rain forest arriving ,after 20 minutes of dust and exotic bugs in his field of view, at the boat ramp of the Aguarico River.He turned off the engine, rolled down the window and sat perfectly still.He strained his left ear for several moments. Then looked around him in all directions. He opened his car door and walked down the steep dirt incline which was the boat ramp.At the water's edge he looked upriver and down.
He backed the truck down to the water's edge and set the parking brake. He let down the tailgate but before throwing the body in the water he stripped it of its clothes and made slicing cuts into the man's flesh.He called the dog which had remaine in the cabin of the truck and it opened the door with a bark of excitement and licked the dead man's wounds. The man commaned it to stop and the dog ,limping, roamed nearby.
He threw the man's clothes on the river,stopping briefly to examine a hole in the leather heel of the flyweight's cowboy boots;frayed layers of leather that whorled downward until the moon could be seen as he held it to his eye like some bizarre telescope.Looking through the heel of the dead man's right boot he bayed and gave a little knowing laugh. He threw the boots in the river and they sunk. The clothes floated briefly in a pool where there appeared to be no current and then they seemed to be pulled under. That was the spot he was aiming for. .He gave the man's body a gentle shove. It only had to cover six feet. The man's body arrived at at a leisurely pace to the motionless pool and the elder man watched closely. Cleaned his glasses and strained in anticipation. Then it happened. Piranhas began to hit the body.The scent of blood in this dry season brought the largest school he had ever seen and the Gringo appeared in the flesh only one more time a few seconds later and he was already half gone..It was the luna menguante: day 5 or 6 in the 7 first days of the waning moon when the trees were best for cutting and in this case the cloudless sky gave off enough light to see a cut man devoured by fish so frenzied the water all around the disappearing corpse seemed to boil and for an instant levitate. How well the large man knew the forest to be able to calculate that the normally vegetarian piranha would be ready for him after this drought. He grunted in satisfaction.
From his truck he pulled a towel and a change of clothes. He bathed the other mans blood off his body without fear.He cleaned his knife carefully. The fish had plenty to occupy them. Then he threw his bloodied clothes into the water which were in turn whisked away by what his trained eye saw to be a rising current. He could smell the fresh rainwater from the rivers to the north beginning to arrive. It will rain by first light ,he was certain.
Now nearly sober, he thought back over the evening's events and allowed himself a smile.
Chapter FOUR
The fresh air carried on the lazy current of the Napo River ,like wafts of elegant perfume, was almost guaranteed to arrive at the Hotel Auca ; a gentle, exotic breeze brought from upstream .The main building of the hotel,the only hotel for a person with any sanitary standards to stay in the town of Francisco de Orellana,had walls of thinly painted white cement and windowless rooms save for small vents in the bathrooms of these prison cells , which went for eight dollars a night. The recently constructed bungalows across a large refreshingly manicured lawn that was festooned with many flowering native plants and dozens of cages that held wild animals fresh from the jungle, were thirteen dollars a night single and seventeen dollars double.These seven sepulchral, clapboard, bungalows were decorated with prefabricated interior walls that had been wood chipped from the Brazilian part of this jungle,then shipped to China where most raw forest went to be transmogrified, then shipped back to the western world again as imitation maple tongue and groove partitions for resale as, easy to install and cheap to buy, paneling. They had Hawaiian themed curtains around their good-sized screened in square holes (which suggested windows) and which allowed for clear reception of Proprietor Senor Alberto Suarez', diesel generator that until recently would shut off and on again at any odd hour of the evening because of the amount of water that was sold to him in the adulterated diesel which he bought.
The cabins had two high watt incandescent lights which generated tremendous heat and so were used at a minimum, but the real trophy and worth the price of the bungalow alone were the oscillating fans which rose five feet above the floor and blew mercifully until two or three in the morning when the generator ran out of fuel (if it was functioning correctly) . The blades sucked in that juicy river air making for a not unpleasant rest once you got used to the noise of the generator. Regular guests like Nate Truant were thrilled when they heard about the itinerant young man,who called himself a British Subject,whose accent revealed an upbringing in the deep American south.Despite a manner of speech and action to the contrary neither did Gordon Cuthbert deny rumors of an aristocratic childhood in Hong Kong. Wafer thin with a face like a pale moon and antiquated round rimmed glasses ,he was so unimposing in demeanor as to practically have the quality to non-exist .He had somehow landed in Nate's former base of operations ,as did every loose nut, at the Hotel Auca.The Oasis at the end of the road.
Nate, with brown hair that he kept in a modern style,or maybe it just fell that way when it was cut to the one inch length he preferred, was lanky without being too tall,green eyes, full lips and and on the whole striking to women except that at this moment he was gaunt and pale from a three week bout with the nmeasles.
Cuthbert, whose Spanish was flawless talked Senor Suarez into free room and board in exchange for developing a contraption of funnels and hoses that would separate the water from the diesel and, he promised, no longer foul the British- made Cumins and Perkins generator with which he was already on intimate terms and as everyone was soon to learn mechanical expertise was just another trick from his very large bag.
Nate befriended Gordon who with all of his eighty pounds of weight and five feet of stature had the gumption to tell his companion that he was a black belt in Karate.He came out of his bungalow wearing his karate Gi and a black belt and in a businesslike way Nate joined his quick-paced stride as Gordon had told him they were "off to earn a living".
A Saturday morning, market day,when the town was full of livestock and men selling twenty-five cent gadgets like a bright yellow plastic device one could plunge into an orange or grapefruit to suck out all of its juice,the men barkering from the backs of pickup trucks wearing microphone lavalieres emitting tinny amplified sound. Dish sets to be had for a dollar and a half. Nothing more than three dollars except livestock. Fruits and vegetables trucked in from the mountains or even the coast. Indians offering their finely made baskets to buyers from the capital who would pay them pennies on the dollar for finely woven chambira shigras that they would resell to the tourist shops in the capital for ten times what they paid. Baby animals from the jungle which would look like 110 pound rice sacks that moved awkwardly on the shoulders of riverdwellers who had perhaps paddled since early Friday to arrive for the market- but those deals passed quickly from the pipeline road to the alleys where men with enclosed trucks and cages were waiting.
Into this melee would strut Gordon his spot apparently chosen in advance , his tools already gathered by an unseen assistant. First he began by performing several very complex katas, the exacting sets of movements that must be memorized by every karate devotee which he punctuated with little shouts . A young boy, the assistant, appeared and began yelling to the crowd and some then more began to turn their attention to the little white man in the white costume.
When perhaps thirty people had gathered he had the assistant hold three boards together and confer with the crowd as to their authenticity. In one strike with his fist he broke through all three. The crowd moaned and he stood with his fist extended to allow them to examine his hand for damage. Next he did a similar performance with his feet and now there were a hundred people. The boy asked the crowd if anyone would like to fight him and they all laughed. After several more amazing acts of destruction the boy struggled to put two thick cinder blocks on top of each other and now, citizen,colonist, and Indian, together, were ten rows deep as Gordon broke through the cinder blocks with a chop of his hand. He paraded the hand in front of the crowd slowly, allowing them to see that there was no damage.
Three simple folding chairs were brought forward and the boy explained to the crowd what would happen next. The chairs were soon filled. Gordon hypnotised the three seated people with the classic pocket watch technique and they were under within a minute or two. Next the boy produced a tool which to Nate who was kicking himself for having not brought a camera appeared to be nothing more than a needle nosed pliers.Quickly, Gordon extracted rotten teeth from each of the three patients, awakened them with a snap of his fingers, and planted some thick gauze that he had dipped in puro, 100% sugarcane alcohol, in each of the extraction holes.
The patients bewildered but painless shook hands with the karate dentist and went on their way.After the first three patients, there was a line so long that Nate left after a couple of hours.Rotten teeth littered the dust all around the three chairs.
Nate believed that Gordon,such a young man, for he was only in his twenties, could probably go through life without permanent employment with the amount of skills that he had and though Nate wanted to confide in Gordon he knew this man had no interest in earthly riches and that his eccentricities would eventually stand in the way of anything more than a novel acquaintance. On the day Gordon left he was wearing, a slightly tattered Saville Row three piece winter wool suit and in the typical sweltering heat of a Francisco de Orellana day Gordon did not sweat a drip. He had told Nate he could control his body temperature and Nate, sweating in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt, thongs on his feet, realized that it must be true.
A Saturday morning, market day,when the town was full of livestock and men selling twenty-five cent gadgets like a bright yellow plastic device one could plunge into an orange or grapefruit to suck out all of its juice,the men barkering from the backs of pickup trucks wearing microphone lavalieres emitting tinny amplified sound. Dish sets to be had for a dollar and a half. Nothing more than three dollars except livestock. Fruits and vegetables trucked in from the mountains or even the coast. Indians offering their finely made baskets to buyers from the capital who would pay them pennies on the dollar for finely woven chambira shigras that they would resell to the tourist shops in the capital for ten times what they paid. Baby animals from the jungle which would look like 110 pound rice sacks that moved awkwardly on the shoulders of riverdwellers who had perhaps paddled since early Friday to arrive for the market- but those deals passed quickly from the pipeline road to the alleys where men with enclosed trucks and cages were waiting.
Into this melee would strut Gordon his spot apparently chosen in advance , his tools already gathered by an unseen assistant. First he began by performing several very complex katas, the exacting sets of movements that must be memorized by every karate devotee which he punctuated with little shouts . A young boy, the assistant, appeared and began yelling to the crowd and some then more began to turn their attention to the little white man in the white costume.
When perhaps thirty people had gathered he had the assistant hold three boards together and confer with the crowd as to their authenticity. In one strike with his fist he broke through all three. The crowd moaned and he stood with his fist extended to allow them to examine his hand for damage. Next he did a similar performance with his feet and now there were a hundred people. The boy asked the crowd if anyone would like to fight him and they all laughed. After several more amazing acts of destruction the boy struggled to put two thick cinder blocks on top of each other and now, citizen,colonist, and Indian, together, were ten rows deep as Gordon broke through the cinder blocks with a chop of his hand. He paraded the hand in front of the crowd slowly, allowing them to see that there was no damage.
Three simple folding chairs were brought forward and the boy explained to the crowd what would happen next. The chairs were soon filled. Gordon hypnotised the three seated people with the classic pocket watch technique and they were under within a minute or two. Next the boy produced a tool which to Nate who was kicking himself for having not brought a camera appeared to be nothing more than a needle nosed pliers.Quickly, Gordon extracted rotten teeth from each of the three patients, awakened them with a snap of his fingers, and planted some thick gauze that he had dipped in puro, 100% sugarcane alcohol, in each of the extraction holes.
The patients bewildered but painless shook hands with the karate dentist and went on their way.After the first three patients, there was a line so long that Nate left after a couple of hours.Rotten teeth littered the dust all around the three chairs.
Nate believed that Gordon,such a young man, for he was only in his twenties, could probably go through life without permanent employment with the amount of skills that he had and though Nate wanted to confide in Gordon he knew this man had no interest in earthly riches and that his eccentricities would eventually stand in the way of anything more than a novel acquaintance. On the day Gordon left he was wearing, a slightly tattered Saville Row three piece winter wool suit and in the typical sweltering heat of a Francisco de Orellana day Gordon did not sweat a drip. He had told Nate he could control his body temperature and Nate, sweating in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt, thongs on his feet, realized that it must be true.
"That which you seek," said Gordon in his drawling, high-pitched , sibilant voice,"may make you wealthy or it may kill you.Be careful Honorable friend, ya here."
Although Cuthbert had claimed that he was also a mind reader, Nate wondered with a shiver if he had said anything when he let Gordon hypnotise him.He just nodded his comprehension to Cuthbert.
"Only by behaving humbly,"Gordon continued,"can one be truly open for karate's teachings." In a millisecond the toe of his shoe was beside Nate's temple and stayed there. Nate froze on the spot. "Behave humbly, Suh, for what is true of Karate is often true of life. You do right now, ya here."
"I'll do my best Gordon,"replied Nate, "write to me sometime care of the hotel Auca and I'll write to you care of the Queen of England."They both smiled and embraced stiffly and Gordon, like a tumbleweed was gone.
The results, Gordon's water separator device, greatly pleased Alberto Suarez ,and Alberto,like everyone else, awestruck by this whisper of a man let him stay in a bungalow no less ,for weeks, and then even paid his bus ticket back to the capital.Nate may not have learned humility, but Gordon had taught him the art of hypnosis which he hoped to someday have a go at. He had once thought history was useless information but look where it was taking him.One must know the past,he said to himself sounding like Gordon Cuthbert, to know when opportunities for the future are presented...Who knew when hypnosis might come in handy ?
A flop house where every outsider going to or from the real Amazon made home if even just for a night, the Hotel Auca distinguished itself by its misnomer though few people knew or cared.The name Auca in the Quechua language, a direct link to ancient Incan dialects and spoken by more native people than any other indigenous language in South America, simply meant " savage" and was a disgrace to the once proud Hoarani Indians for whom the insult was meant.
A peeling black and white larger-than-life size photograph of the owner, Alberto Suarez, with some naked and nervously smiling members of the Hoarani tribe in this awkwardly staged mural form covered one wall of his Cantina, and the bar was decorated with all sorts of plumed and clawed artifacts,genuine for sure, that the Hoarani had traded him no doubt for the joy of the machete, a tool they had previously never seen.This was a small group,it seemed, the ones ensnared by the pipeline on the other side of the river and still miraculously undiscovered by tourists and curiosity seekers looking for shrunken heads (which was not a Hoarani practice but a Shuar, a tribe quite distant and long since deculturized)but their teeth, it could be seen quite clearly, had learned the pleasures of refined sugar and like their culture, it was immediately visible that this tribe that once lived in the stone age was now with the rest of modern mortals on the low road to decay. Obesity would be their next challenge.
A flop house where every outsider going to or from the real Amazon made home if even just for a night, the Hotel Auca distinguished itself by its misnomer though few people knew or cared.The name Auca in the Quechua language, a direct link to ancient Incan dialects and spoken by more native people than any other indigenous language in South America, simply meant " savage" and was a disgrace to the once proud Hoarani Indians for whom the insult was meant.
A peeling black and white larger-than-life size photograph of the owner, Alberto Suarez, with some naked and nervously smiling members of the Hoarani tribe in this awkwardly staged mural form covered one wall of his Cantina, and the bar was decorated with all sorts of plumed and clawed artifacts,genuine for sure, that the Hoarani had traded him no doubt for the joy of the machete, a tool they had previously never seen.This was a small group,it seemed, the ones ensnared by the pipeline on the other side of the river and still miraculously undiscovered by tourists and curiosity seekers looking for shrunken heads (which was not a Hoarani practice but a Shuar, a tribe quite distant and long since deculturized)but their teeth, it could be seen quite clearly, had learned the pleasures of refined sugar and like their culture, it was immediately visible that this tribe that once lived in the stone age was now with the rest of modern mortals on the low road to decay. Obesity would be their next challenge.
Alberto displayed the most civilized manner and sympathetic smile of any man and yet he was deeply entrenched in the illegal animal trade, openly so, and ran a kind of zoo-morgue where he brought the finest, wildest creatures for the display of his guests before transit from harpy eagles with their six-foot wing spans, to jaguars defeated and docile towards death after a day or so, and the smaller cats and infant monkeys of all kinds whose mothers had been shot to get at these helpless creatures. All of which Nate photographed guiltily because he knew he'd never get shots of such intimacy in the wild and framed just right no one could tell the creatures were caged.
But elation for his work one day turned irrevocably to manic pity and he began to shoot the same animals over and over again in the period of a week or sometimes two, when he would layover in this place as he was nonchalantly interviewing hotel guests to find the right person to share his secret with, documenting the animal kingdom's little deaths for a photo series he wondered if he would ever mount, already entitled "Amazon Crude".Each day they grew more gaunt and he photographed. They rammed themselves into the bars and he captured it. They cried out. This he hoped would transfer to film.And Alberto Suarez with the most engaging sympathetic,civilized smile would shrug his shoulders helplessly and continue smiling. The next day or the next week, run like some macabre auto showroom, Alberto would fill the cages with new and even more exciting models for his hotel guests to test drive to their deaths..
In this setting Nate met Isadora. He was using his Nikon f2 that he had to keep light tight with gaffers tape between each roll but had a good leica 80millimeter lens on the camera. The Harpy eagle was performing its death dance and he was recording it for posterity. She walked out from behind the cage and he followed her with his camera.The 80mm was perfect for a portrait and he ran off four shots before she figured out what he was doing.Trees shaded the whole "zoo" from the blistering morning sun and the filtered light was perfect for photography. He wanted to switch to Black and white to capture her stunning posture. The way her walk commanded the space.So out of her element and yet so sure of herself.
"No thank you,"she said,politely, her English perfect except for something Nate took to be Scandinavian in her accent. She was a brunette with freshly washed and shiny shoulder length hair that had a slight natural flip to it in the back. He saw her take out the familiar Dutch Drum Tobacco and quickly roll a cigarette.He noted that her whole encounter was like a scrubbed clean Dutch door step.Done with all that pride and vigor. But she was a beauty and he was never a slacker to try to earn guilders in that department.He knew he looked like a half empty sack of potatoes from all the weight he had lost from his illness, but he had never had trouble attracting women with his classic good looks and his large green eyes he had noticed in the mirror seemed even larger while sporting the "gaunt look".
"Ik hou van ja" he said easily mustering the charm for the words.Her high strong cheek bones and the chin that did not jut but announced her presence struck him hard as he approached for a handshake. Her green eyes flecked with brown. Nina her blond haired traveling companion came into view, also a beauty, but completely out of sorts:"We've been in this too hot fucking town for almost a week now ,"she whined, "and where are the river guides that the books say we will find here to guide us? Everybody wants to steal our money".
"I know it's a bitch isn't it, "said Nate,forgetting to introduce himself and snapping at Nina.He picked up the beer that he had set on the ground while he photographed, "And even if you find someone there is about a 100% chance he won't buy enough gasoline ,or his motor will seize up or he will forget drinking water or feed you sardines in mustard sauce for a week or if you have really bad luck he'll take all you're money and rape you too.
"Yes," said Nina," we have already experienced that part with a man named Jaime who tried to take advantage of Dory and Dory played along moving in close to his smelly body until he was in no positition to strike her . Then she grabbed his shirt where it came together in the front and quickly started to twist it until the man was strangling. Then I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could."
"well what if he had a knife or a gun," said Nate trying to regain his thunder.You just tasted the first bitter sip of the poison here. Let me tell you about my former friend Ezra.
Right where you're standing stood a Quaker friend of mine not more than a month ago and he was an agronomist, did his stint with the Peace Corps, and we used to talk for hours old Ezra and I . He bought himself a plot of land down here and was going to grow palm oil trees to sell the oil to the palm plantation. All he wanted was a simple life. But he had a plan and he knew where he was going. Well the palm plantation employs 900 men. They say they like convicts as employees because they can work them harder and they'll keep there mouths shut cuz they're wanted by the law.. Well god dammit, wouldn't you know it two of these bastards, convicts, who were working on the palm plantation one day slipped on to Ezra's place and gave him and his wife machetasos, cut their heads clean off. Anita,the woman, got her head cut off while she was being raped because apparently the vagina...You don't need to hear that...
He paused and gulped his beer.
"Then there was a big confusion here, maybe it was a Quaker thing I don't know but they had it in their wills that they wanted to be buried in the same coffin . Now I don't know how they sat down as a loving couple and thought of that ahead of time ,but they did and the little mortuary here only has prefab coffins so they had to find a carpenter to make a double-sized coffin to fit them both-- and you're going to tell me you are all right on your own because you're Dutch.Because you've hitch-hiked from Amsterdam to Istanbul or some such shit! You're liberated! Ladies (and I do mean that in the most genteel American way I know) wherever in the the hell do you think you are ?"Nate's lecture ended just short of a tirade and he hacked up a mouthful of phlegm from deep in his lungs, walk out of sight around a corner of the building where he could be heard spitting and coughing, but soon returned quiet and tired.
"We can manage ," said Nina obstinately, "Between us we speak eight languages so Spanish is coming to us very easily.And we've hitchhiked all over the world, is that right Dory?"
In this setting Nate met Isadora. He was using his Nikon f2 that he had to keep light tight with gaffers tape between each roll but had a good leica 80millimeter lens on the camera. The Harpy eagle was performing its death dance and he was recording it for posterity. She walked out from behind the cage and he followed her with his camera.The 80mm was perfect for a portrait and he ran off four shots before she figured out what he was doing.Trees shaded the whole "zoo" from the blistering morning sun and the filtered light was perfect for photography. He wanted to switch to Black and white to capture her stunning posture. The way her walk commanded the space.So out of her element and yet so sure of herself.
"No thank you,"she said,politely, her English perfect except for something Nate took to be Scandinavian in her accent. She was a brunette with freshly washed and shiny shoulder length hair that had a slight natural flip to it in the back. He saw her take out the familiar Dutch Drum Tobacco and quickly roll a cigarette.He noted that her whole encounter was like a scrubbed clean Dutch door step.Done with all that pride and vigor. But she was a beauty and he was never a slacker to try to earn guilders in that department.He knew he looked like a half empty sack of potatoes from all the weight he had lost from his illness, but he had never had trouble attracting women with his classic good looks and his large green eyes he had noticed in the mirror seemed even larger while sporting the "gaunt look".
"Ik hou van ja" he said easily mustering the charm for the words.Her high strong cheek bones and the chin that did not jut but announced her presence struck him hard as he approached for a handshake. Her green eyes flecked with brown. Nina her blond haired traveling companion came into view, also a beauty, but completely out of sorts:"We've been in this too hot fucking town for almost a week now ,"she whined, "and where are the river guides that the books say we will find here to guide us? Everybody wants to steal our money".
"I know it's a bitch isn't it, "said Nate,forgetting to introduce himself and snapping at Nina.He picked up the beer that he had set on the ground while he photographed, "And even if you find someone there is about a 100% chance he won't buy enough gasoline ,or his motor will seize up or he will forget drinking water or feed you sardines in mustard sauce for a week or if you have really bad luck he'll take all you're money and rape you too.
"Yes," said Nina," we have already experienced that part with a man named Jaime who tried to take advantage of Dory and Dory played along moving in close to his smelly body until he was in no positition to strike her . Then she grabbed his shirt where it came together in the front and quickly started to twist it until the man was strangling. Then I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could."
"well what if he had a knife or a gun," said Nate trying to regain his thunder.You just tasted the first bitter sip of the poison here. Let me tell you about my former friend Ezra.
Right where you're standing stood a Quaker friend of mine not more than a month ago and he was an agronomist, did his stint with the Peace Corps, and we used to talk for hours old Ezra and I . He bought himself a plot of land down here and was going to grow palm oil trees to sell the oil to the palm plantation. All he wanted was a simple life. But he had a plan and he knew where he was going. Well the palm plantation employs 900 men. They say they like convicts as employees because they can work them harder and they'll keep there mouths shut cuz they're wanted by the law.. Well god dammit, wouldn't you know it two of these bastards, convicts, who were working on the palm plantation one day slipped on to Ezra's place and gave him and his wife machetasos, cut their heads clean off. Anita,the woman, got her head cut off while she was being raped because apparently the vagina...You don't need to hear that...
He paused and gulped his beer.
"Then there was a big confusion here, maybe it was a Quaker thing I don't know but they had it in their wills that they wanted to be buried in the same coffin . Now I don't know how they sat down as a loving couple and thought of that ahead of time ,but they did and the little mortuary here only has prefab coffins so they had to find a carpenter to make a double-sized coffin to fit them both-- and you're going to tell me you are all right on your own because you're Dutch.Because you've hitch-hiked from Amsterdam to Istanbul or some such shit! You're liberated! Ladies (and I do mean that in the most genteel American way I know) wherever in the the hell do you think you are ?"Nate's lecture ended just short of a tirade and he hacked up a mouthful of phlegm from deep in his lungs, walk out of sight around a corner of the building where he could be heard spitting and coughing, but soon returned quiet and tired.
"We can manage ," said Nina obstinately, "Between us we speak eight languages so Spanish is coming to us very easily.And we've hitchhiked all over the world, is that right Dory?"
"Sorry for your friend," said Dory.
"Oh yes,"said Nina, "What's the matter with me. I am sorry too. Life is full of tragedy but we must carry on.I mean--"
"I know what you mean, "said Nate.
"I meant no disrespect you understand. It is just the way I believe."
"No harm done," said Nate with a reassuring smile.
They spoke for a time in Dutch to each other with Nate looking at "Dory" most of the time.He tried on what sounded like her nickname .Dory... Dora, he thought,that's not a Dutch name. Dora is an out of fashion English name. But Dory, by any name, well ,he would love to take a tumble with her .Both of these women had so much pluck and moxie-- and they were beautiful. He loved them.
"Well," asked Dory exasperated, "Do you have a way we could go? People we could trust." and then in a soft,persuading voice "Maybe we could go with you. We would be no trouble? We have hear so much about the beauty of the Amazon and we think we are not very far away here where we are, yes?
"Well," asked Dory exasperated, "Do you have a way we could go? People we could trust." and then in a soft,persuading voice "Maybe we could go with you. We would be no trouble? We have hear so much about the beauty of the Amazon and we think we are not very far away here where we are, yes?
"What's That?" he asked and coughed up some phlegm. He moved quickly across the yard to spit beyond the edge of the building and stayed there for a minute clearing his lungs of further phlegm and spitting it. Then he held his nose and blew trying to clear the passages to his ears. He stood there for a moment and sipped his beer thoughtfully. Then returned smiling.
"The Amazon ? Is that what we were talking about? It's beautiful all right," he replied, his voice becoming gentle and distant, "But how do you know I'm not just coming back from the jungle? Or maybe I'm not leaving here for another two weeks? Or Maybe I'm going to stay out there six months looking for El Dorado?"
Nina could not contain herself:"Because that nice man Senor Suarez, who owns the hotel, he told us you usually don't stay out more than two or three weeks and that you were a very kind and trustworthy man."
"Son of a Bitch," he said, "muchileras "!
"What does this mean?" Asked Dory afraid that Nina had said something to offend him
.
"It means," he said unable to keep a straight face,"That you had me set up from the beginning. Well I'm afraid I can't do it this time. I may be staying out for a long time. I have work to do. I'd love the distraction...But I can't do it, Sorry."he concluded, waving them off as more phlegm rose from his lungs and he walked away.
"So what are you doing here?" asked Dory, trying without subtlety to further engage Nate and pry loose a different conclusion for her and Nina's holidays.She had followed and caught him in a moment of deep contemplation, again at the side of the building.
"Shit ! Don't sneak up on me like that. What am I doing? Is that what you asked ?"I'm taking photos," said Nate with a boyish grin, "shall we step out of the sun".
Laughter rose up over the macabre oasis at the Hotel Auca and reached the red dirt streets just beyond , where the merriment , captured and distorted by dust and contaminants came to be heard as cries of anguish.
VISIT http://www.laselvajunglelodge.com/
"The Amazon ? Is that what we were talking about? It's beautiful all right," he replied, his voice becoming gentle and distant, "But how do you know I'm not just coming back from the jungle? Or maybe I'm not leaving here for another two weeks? Or Maybe I'm going to stay out there six months looking for El Dorado?"
Nina could not contain herself:"Because that nice man Senor Suarez, who owns the hotel, he told us you usually don't stay out more than two or three weeks and that you were a very kind and trustworthy man."
"Son of a Bitch," he said, "muchileras "!
"What does this mean?" Asked Dory afraid that Nina had said something to offend him
.
"It means," he said unable to keep a straight face,"That you had me set up from the beginning. Well I'm afraid I can't do it this time. I may be staying out for a long time. I have work to do. I'd love the distraction...But I can't do it, Sorry."he concluded, waving them off as more phlegm rose from his lungs and he walked away.
"So what are you doing here?" asked Dory, trying without subtlety to further engage Nate and pry loose a different conclusion for her and Nina's holidays.She had followed and caught him in a moment of deep contemplation, again at the side of the building.
"Shit ! Don't sneak up on me like that. What am I doing? Is that what you asked ?"I'm taking photos," said Nate with a boyish grin, "shall we step out of the sun".
"Bah! It is too hot here!"
"Your damn right it is !"
"And dusty! Doesn't it ever rain?"
"Yeah, but I guarantee you the rain is just the other side of dust."
"Excuse me ?"
"You don't wanna be here when it rains either.This is not the rainforest anymore."
"No, that is obvious."
In the shade and decrepit lawn furniture, still in sight of the zoo morgue, after Nate had brought beers for both of them and another for himself,they exchanged names formally and drank deeply.
"For money?" asked Dory, " take your photographs for money?"
"Maybe,"replied Nate giving the question deep thought, "but I like to think of myself as a tourist in my own reality."He put on a clown face:"And hey I'm having fun and I do wish you were here."
"I think you are a little bit wrong in the head." said Dory, matching his clown face with one of her own.
"Exactly," he replied.
"But you go down into the jungle to take your photographs or to be this kind of tourist or whatever it is you do? " asked Nina.
"Yeah, ' with my trusty river guides and cases of beer,and rum, and lots of food and my cameras.
"My father has a hasselblad,"said Isadora contemptuously.
"Well that must make him a better photographer than me, " said Nate ,smiling.
"No he is an orchestra conductor.He lives in the Hague with his new wife but he comes to Amsterdam to conduct the Concertgebouw Orchestra."
"He always leaves her tickets at the counter ,"said Nina, supportively.
Dory glared at her. "And my mother was a dancer", she added quietly.
"Hence the name Isadora," said Nate.Isadora nodded self-consciously.
"Igor Stravinsky was in their house when she came home as a baby from the Hospital," chimed in Nina, who now made it clear that she was endearingly proud of her friend's glamorous background.
"Well I have heard of Igor Stravinsky. Heard his music too. But I must say I prefer Jerry Garcia."
"Oh pop music."
"No he's not pop music."
"Well music of now. I like this John Elton. His words are good ."
"Yeah some of John Elton is OK ,"said Nate, and you know what ...if you want to go down river for an indefinite time with me, I"ll take you, god dammit.But the key word is indefinite.Or perhaps God. Or maybe Dammit. Anyway I''ll take you two sacks of poatoes. I have had a change of heart which is always the wrong thing for me to do...follow my first instintinct is the way...But. I'll take you down river with me- like maybe for the rest of yor lives!""
"Yeah, but I guarantee you the rain is just the other side of dust."
"Excuse me ?"
"You don't wanna be here when it rains either.This is not the rainforest anymore."
"No, that is obvious."
In the shade and decrepit lawn furniture, still in sight of the zoo morgue, after Nate had brought beers for both of them and another for himself,they exchanged names formally and drank deeply.
"For money?" asked Dory, " take your photographs for money?"
"Maybe,"replied Nate giving the question deep thought, "but I like to think of myself as a tourist in my own reality."He put on a clown face:"And hey I'm having fun and I do wish you were here."
"I think you are a little bit wrong in the head." said Dory, matching his clown face with one of her own.
"Exactly," he replied.
"But you go down into the jungle to take your photographs or to be this kind of tourist or whatever it is you do? " asked Nina.
"Yeah, ' with my trusty river guides and cases of beer,and rum, and lots of food and my cameras.
"My father has a hasselblad,"said Isadora contemptuously.
"Well that must make him a better photographer than me, " said Nate ,smiling.
"No he is an orchestra conductor.He lives in the Hague with his new wife but he comes to Amsterdam to conduct the Concertgebouw Orchestra."
"He always leaves her tickets at the counter ,"said Nina, supportively.
Dory glared at her. "And my mother was a dancer", she added quietly.
"Hence the name Isadora," said Nate.Isadora nodded self-consciously.
"Igor Stravinsky was in their house when she came home as a baby from the Hospital," chimed in Nina, who now made it clear that she was endearingly proud of her friend's glamorous background.
"Well I have heard of Igor Stravinsky. Heard his music too. But I must say I prefer Jerry Garcia."
"Oh pop music."
"No he's not pop music."
"Well music of now. I like this John Elton. His words are good ."
"Yeah some of John Elton is OK ,"said Nate, and you know what ...if you want to go down river for an indefinite time with me, I"ll take you, god dammit.But the key word is indefinite.Or perhaps God. Or maybe Dammit. Anyway I''ll take you two sacks of poatoes. I have had a change of heart which is always the wrong thing for me to do...follow my first instintinct is the way...But. I'll take you down river with me- like maybe for the rest of yor lives!""
The girls were ecstatic.
"Like maybe the rest of your lives.
"They looked at each other in confusion.
No I don't mean that.They're loading my boat now and I'll sock in a some extra bottles and grub but you have to have no time limit for your trip no place you gotta be and maybe you'll become a dead head too."
Now they looked at him nervously.
Don't worry that's a good thing.It's not necessarily like a shrunken head.It''s Like becoming a Stravinskyite."
"And how much do you want for being a river guide?"Asked Dory.
No it's more like I'm your boss because we will do everything when I say and how I say so I won't charge you anything, but you'll see I"m the classiest act you'll find on this river.And you'll learn enough about the forest to be a naturalist . And I can vouch for my guides too, Gustavo and Fernando,brothers who have been with me for months and I know their family. So they are reliable too because I bought the motor and as trackers, well they grew up out there, " he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward the river, and they know it like you know Amsterdam. "
"So you will take us back to Francisco de Orellana?" Nina asked, "At the end."
"At the end we will be Francisco de Orellana, Conquistadors, and who knows maybe we will sail all the way down the Amazon to the sea like he did."
"Oh no I ca-"
"He is making a joke ," said Dory , "But how long will we be gone?"
"How long does it take to plunder the riches of El Dorado?"
She muttered something unpleasant in Dutch.Then:"Yes, Yes., El Dorado, Okay."
"No, really," he said quickly, "you're going to see things you've never in your life dreamed of and I'll get you back before school starts. It's just that I"m trying to make this my last big trip for awhile so I don't want to feel any time constraints you understand."
"You just make your photos and we will stay out of your way,"said Dory with a smile, "We trust you. Something in those eyes. "she said embarassing herself.
"And you can be like The Amazons,hell you've got the guts! That's how the river got its name ,you know ,Francisco de Orellana was going down the river that should have borne his name when he came across a tribe called the Tapuyas and they had six foot tall women leading the battle and the women fought so ferociously, like I bet the two of you could fight, they even cut off one of their breasts so that they could launch their arrows properly with the bow next to their body and Orellana had the misfortune to name them Amazons after the Amazons of Greek legend so when he got back to Spain all anyone remembered of his discovery or wanted to hear about his voyage that brought no gold or riches of any kind was the tale of the Amazons. So the name Orellana belongs to one shithole town where it all began and woman warriors of amazing strength and great cunning , name a river."
"Which is how it should be.," said Nina,"But Dory does not always show great cunning do you Dory." She laughed showing a mouth of bright white teeth. "Remember that man in the trailer park in Croatia on the way to Istanbul who turned out to be a smuggler and you thought he was-"
"Don't bring this up again !'
Sounds like a good story ,"said Nate, "I'll have plenty of time to get it out of you."
"Dory laughed."I will go to my grave with that story and so will you Nina, Right or I will tell the story about how on that same trip you hurt your ass so bad you couldn't sit down for two days after an incident on the rocks of the Dalmatian Coast, near Dubrovnik."
Nina put her hand over Dory's Mouth and Dory put her hand over Nina's and they both began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Obviously, said Nate, I have a great deal to learn about you two.But until you prove otherwise I qualify you both as Amazons and no you don't have to cut off one of your lovely breasts to join the tribe.In this tribe we only ask that you be brave if something scares you-
Like what?" asked Dory, suddenly alert.
I don't know...A thirty foot anaconda-"
"Oh, it has better things to do than fight with me!"
" -and you have to laugh at my jokes."
"Now that is really being brave!"Now they looked at him nervously.
Don't worry that's a good thing.It's not necessarily like a shrunken head.It''s Like becoming a Stravinskyite."
"And how much do you want for being a river guide?"Asked Dory.
No it's more like I'm your boss because we will do everything when I say and how I say so I won't charge you anything, but you'll see I"m the classiest act you'll find on this river.And you'll learn enough about the forest to be a naturalist . And I can vouch for my guides too, Gustavo and Fernando,brothers who have been with me for months and I know their family. So they are reliable too because I bought the motor and as trackers, well they grew up out there, " he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward the river, and they know it like you know Amsterdam. "
"So you will take us back to Francisco de Orellana?" Nina asked, "At the end."
"At the end we will be Francisco de Orellana, Conquistadors, and who knows maybe we will sail all the way down the Amazon to the sea like he did."
"Oh no I ca-"
"He is making a joke ," said Dory , "But how long will we be gone?"
"How long does it take to plunder the riches of El Dorado?"
She muttered something unpleasant in Dutch.Then:"Yes, Yes., El Dorado, Okay."
"No, really," he said quickly, "you're going to see things you've never in your life dreamed of and I'll get you back before school starts. It's just that I"m trying to make this my last big trip for awhile so I don't want to feel any time constraints you understand."
"You just make your photos and we will stay out of your way,"said Dory with a smile, "We trust you. Something in those eyes. "she said embarassing herself.
"And you can be like The Amazons,hell you've got the guts! That's how the river got its name ,you know ,Francisco de Orellana was going down the river that should have borne his name when he came across a tribe called the Tapuyas and they had six foot tall women leading the battle and the women fought so ferociously, like I bet the two of you could fight, they even cut off one of their breasts so that they could launch their arrows properly with the bow next to their body and Orellana had the misfortune to name them Amazons after the Amazons of Greek legend so when he got back to Spain all anyone remembered of his discovery or wanted to hear about his voyage that brought no gold or riches of any kind was the tale of the Amazons. So the name Orellana belongs to one shithole town where it all began and woman warriors of amazing strength and great cunning , name a river."
"Which is how it should be.," said Nina,"But Dory does not always show great cunning do you Dory." She laughed showing a mouth of bright white teeth. "Remember that man in the trailer park in Croatia on the way to Istanbul who turned out to be a smuggler and you thought he was-"
"Don't bring this up again !'
Sounds like a good story ,"said Nate, "I'll have plenty of time to get it out of you."
"Dory laughed."I will go to my grave with that story and so will you Nina, Right or I will tell the story about how on that same trip you hurt your ass so bad you couldn't sit down for two days after an incident on the rocks of the Dalmatian Coast, near Dubrovnik."
Nina put her hand over Dory's Mouth and Dory put her hand over Nina's and they both began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Obviously, said Nate, I have a great deal to learn about you two.But until you prove otherwise I qualify you both as Amazons and no you don't have to cut off one of your lovely breasts to join the tribe.In this tribe we only ask that you be brave if something scares you-
Like what?" asked Dory, suddenly alert.
I don't know...A thirty foot anaconda-"
"Oh, it has better things to do than fight with me!"
" -and you have to laugh at my jokes."
Laughter rose up over the macabre oasis at the Hotel Auca and reached the red dirt streets just beyond , where the merriment , captured and distorted by dust and contaminants came to be heard as cries of anguish.
VISIT http://www.laselvajunglelodge.com/
