Dory and Nate had seen the whole thing. And Gustavo, of course,who had so casually lopped off the snake's head with a flick of his machete( somehow reminding Nate of a martial artist chef chopping a carrot into his magical stockpot void) wore a schoolboy grin as he combed his Elvis Presley hair. But there had been more to it than that: the rearing up of the pit viper's upper half into a powerful s-shaped striking position on the low-hanging tree-limb, the dance of its tongue and whap! A split second before attacking Nina at the ear, Gustavo had dispatched it. The Fer-De-Lance was the most dangerous snake in the Amazon not because it was the most venomous,the bushmaster held that title, but because it was venomous enough to kill more people than any other snake. With its diet of small rodents and birds its favorite habitat was in river-dwellers hovels where rats and mice were always plentiful.It crossed paths often with riberenos and always to their detriment.
So to find the ground-dwelling snake in old growth forest on a tree-limb after sun-up would portend ominous spirits to those who believed in such things.
Fernando had the head in his hand and he was taking it to show Nina, who had heard all about her near death in excited detail from Nate.First the swelling and oozing from the puncture wound, then bleeding from the nose and gums, nausea, vomiting,bleeding from the stomach, finally acute renal failure and hemorrhagic shock.
"We do have anti-venom,' he said, seeing how white Nina had become, "But it's a serum made from horses and some people get sicker from the anti-venom than they do from the bite.People survive the damn thing all the time," he added, "because the snake bites them without enough venom. Say it just blew its wad on a couple of rats. It has to wait to get more venom into its system."
Nate shot off a series of pictures as Nina vomited her breakfast which Benecio said was one his specialties but had set poorly in her stomach to begin with. The idea of scrambled turtle eggs mixed with canned hominy, called mote in Spanish and bits of a smoky meat that he dubbed "jungle bacon" ,was unpleasant to her ,and its gamey flavor was too strong for breakfast food.
But she had eaten it heartily in light of Benecio's new attitude of friendly hospitality. The native girl was there. A dark exotic creature who would be snapped up in an instant by the world's courtier for the runways of Paris or New York, but who seemed totally uninformed of her natural devestating allure ,was perhaps 18 .She wore a bright red bra and cut off blue jeans. She served the food and Nate made some kind of banter in sign language, smiling at her with devilish affection.She snorted as though it was a vulgar joke then laughed oddly in the way a deaf mute would and pranced back into the kitchen. Dory and Nina simultaneously jerked their shocked heads toward Nate .
"Benecio took her in," he said, scraping his plate.
"And how is it you know sign language already . You have been coming to this place... these people I don't know what but..."Dory was beside herself for lack of information.
"Always with the questions," he said marveling, "are you going to be a prosecutor when you grow up?"
"What is a prostetutor? You mean a lady of the night ?"
"No an attorney, a barrister an advocate?"
"You are avoiding my question," she said shaking her finger and bearing down on him with her eyes.
"Ok...I won't... Both of my parents were deaf mutes as were their parents before them.Maybe you can imagine everbodies' dismay when I showed up able to play for the other team.But they did not hold it against me. They were loving, simple, gifted people who made rugs and bird houses for the deaf and dumb craft shop in Albany , New York, and we got by on that and hand-me-downs.
I learned how to talk with my hands before I learned how to talk with my mouth and when I was with them I was always in their silent world that's why I was attracted to the camera. I could take pictures and take them in a certain way that would give special meaning to them ,little gifts for the folks by the way I took them. That's how I developed my style of photography. That's what made my photographs unique. I was appealing to the deaf mute experience,interpreting the world for them, explaining inconsistencies that I know they felt about life ,by the way I framed my shots and the subject matter I chose and the "normal world"thought I was a genius never knowing that I did not have a clue that my "interpretations" would be considered "Art".But that's history. My folks are dead.My photos I don't give a shit about. Every frame I expose now belongs in the cemetary with my parents. Sure fooled the New York Gallery Crowd didn't I?
Yeah. I was a sensation with my show and then the book "Hand to Mouth" which was a study of the beauty of signing hands and my "interpretations" on opposite pages , people were falling all over me and comparing my work to breaking new ground in the same way Diane Arbus did.Then my agent arranged to take the show on the road 14 cities or something insane like that and I started to believe what everyone was writing about me and was finally able to support myself and my parents. Then...Then...It became time to see what I would do next and I quickly came to realize I had used up my 15 minutes of fame.Because guess what ?I did not have anything left to say . So I still get royalties from prints that I did in editions of 89. And I've got about five posters that provide a steady revenue stream and I'm down here taking nature photographs, trying to apply "my interpretation" to the rainforest. Maybe it will click and maybe it won't but I've got a backup plan that I am absolutely not going to bore you with now.
Anyway, it wasn't long before I stopped hearing from my agent and I soon learned that in the speaking world silence is a form of speech.So I used the last of my wad that I had squirreled away to somehow get revenge or find peace or as I said to you once:everbodies got to be someplace so lets say I used my last little wad to hook up with Benecio and have me a place to be. And I swore I would work to come up with an angle, to find "my interpretation " again...but its just not working out, I'm pursuing other avenues now, maybe someday..."
"But,"tried Dory.
"I'm not a photographer anymore,"he said with an air , "I'm a shutterbug."
A great welling of phlegm rose up from his lungs and he got up from the table and quickly left the cabin through the back door. He could be heard hacking for several minutes. He returned to the table his face pale but picked up the conversation without missing a beat.
"Now, as to the sign language," he blew past her making a magicians flourish with his hands," as to the sign language with Dolores, Benecio and his wife have raised her since she was abandonded at age 4, gladly donated to him by some Basque Separatist Priests from Spain who are Missionising up river. But that's another story, far too complex for me.
So he learned,"he said,poorly, but he learned," now hand signing each word with great exageration and slow motion:"the...hand...lingo..."He stopped signing and looked at his bony hands front and back, laughing, "and needless to say I screw up with Spanish all the time," now he started again racing his hands with the words that came out staccato,"pero. no. es. muy. dificil. para. mi. a hablar. con. la Dolores. que. es. una. de las mujeres. mas.bonita. en el mundo."
Dolores who had apprently stuck her head out of the kitchen squealed like a pig and ducked back inside before any of them could see her and Benecio leaning in perfect Juan Wayne fashion against the door post let out a laugh too.
"Me Alegro mucho,"said Dory and took one of his magical hands in hers.
"Yo tambien,"said Nina.
"Great," he replied,happy and resplendent," now we can go on that hike or start our own Bleeding Hearts Society.I think I've bled enough here now for two societys. let's get the fuck out of here."
The hike began with a paddle , Gustavo and Fernando fore and aft, around the lake to catch the birds who came to the forests edge to warm themselves with the first rays of sunshine after the 12 hour cooling off that was the forest night on the equator. Toucans called to each other from high limbs on opposite banks, seeming to enjoy the echo their shrill song caused, The Paradise Tanager appeared again,The green heron,a small bird, for which the lake was named could be seen at various spots around the water's edge thrusting its bill into the water seeming to have success with its fishing , Cotingas, Trogons,and various more average birds to the girls' untrained eye such as social flycatchers and and the black greater ani's were all pointed out by Gustavo, giving the indian name for each one. A Squadorn of Macaws flew over head already full of rumors and lies which they freely touted to everything that breathed in this forest.
"I know where they are headed,"said Nate, "but we won't get there today. I have tickets for tomorrow's show."
The girls, now acclimated to his brand of humor, only smiled.Appreciative of this inviting, magnificent rainforest and of Nate,who they knew was giving them a gift they could never repay.
They docked the boat and found the hoatzins right near the dock in a large stand of marshy foliage.
Clumsiest of all birds six could be seen in what immediately appeared to be nature's answer to the Vaudeville act, fluttering their nearly useless wings and seeming to be acting in consort to produce some comedic routine that had no beginning and no end. The Hoatzin was the only bird that survived completely on vegetation , had a stomach that worked like a cow's and usually fell when it tried to fly. Its stench was ghastly and with its blue eye patch on naked flesh and its blood shot red eye, the bird, about the size of a turkey with a wobbily, Mohawk crest as a final touch to its costume, was a sight to behold. The birds closest ancestor was said to be prehistoric and clearly it looked like something from the age of dinosaurs with no defensible purpose for its existence.
Shortly after visiting this hilarious contribution to life's grand folly from the Amazon Animal Kingdom which on top of everything had the nerve to draw attention to itself with an often repeated nasal squawk, Gustavo saved the day with his razor sharp machete. Nina had by now regained her composure although she looked all around her as if fer-de-lance snakes came in herds and the troop set off with Gustavo in the lead, laughing as Nina took hold of his shirt tale.
They were headed toward Mandicocha , another lake about a mile behind the cabin and as they climbed back up the hill from the dock, the girls saw the full extent of Benecio's garden which was so abundant with vegetables, vegetables that did not belong in the tropics, in various stages of growth. Everything looked bright and shiny and healthy unlike the natural forest where plants were dying all the time as part of the normal course of life. They saw Dolores in the distance, trimming the growing tips off broccoli and putting them into a basket. The girls tried to get her attention by shouting and waving but she did not look up.
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