by Bob Nailor
“Give me a break, Dr. Ana,” Wayne snapped. “He deserted us. He might as well have done it in the middle of the night. How can you blame yourself?”
“People have different ways of saying what’s on their mind,” Dr. Neville added. “Brazilians are famous for never saying anything directly. You have to read between the lines here. When he said his men wanted to leave, he meant they were already packed up and ready to go.”
Nancy snorted. “Without a thought for us! We’re stranded here with a tribe of cannibals. How can he justify what he did?”
“Self-preservation is the first and strongest motivation for everyone, Nancy,” Aaron added. “He can hardly be blamed for protecting himself and his people.”
“Whatever his reasons, it doesn’t change our situation one little bit,” Ana griped. “For now, we can only hope he does the right thing and sends someone back to pick us up at the end of our mission.”
“And, I suggest that be right now,” Wayne snapped. “This place is just too weird.”
“We’re not going anywhere until we account for all our team members,” Ana replied. “And that starts with Megan. Wayne, I want you and Nancy to do a careful search for her. Check all the places we’ve known her to go. And whatever you do, stay together. Meet us in the village in a half-hour, preferably with her in tow. Any questions?” The students looked at each other without enthusiasm. They finally walked away together toward the village with several feet of air space between them.
“Good call, Ana,” Aaron said. “They needed something productive to do. And, we need to talk through what’s happened.”
Ana’s face was sullen and pensive. “I’ve been thinking.” She nodded to both Aaron and Neville. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing being here? These natives have been hidden for centuries and now we are here, invading and picking them apart.” She cast a worried look at Aaron. “Think about it – the UWF was very quick to send us here, but why?” She paused. “Simply for the advancement of science? I’m thinking Rossi knew exactly what we’d find and he never said a word.”
“I’ll have to agree,” Aaron said. “I’ve never seen a site like this one, dead or alive. Stone-age people with gold smelting capability. Rituals filled with violence and murder, yet edged with a religious undertone to match today’s churches.” He sat there then waved his hand out to encompass the area. “Not to mention a village that could be from a medieval painting.”
“And where are the children Paulo questioned?” Neville asked. “Every village has to have children to survive.”
“And a village idiot,” Ana mumbled. “Oh, wait, that would be me.” She chuckled at her own expense.
“Actually, Paulo made a few good points,” Aaron added. “There are very few men but even more, there are no children and, in a village like this, there would be dogs; some sort of warning. There are no pigs, no chickens — nothing. It’s like a thin veneer or a fresco, painted for us to see. It seems all too convenient, somehow.”
Ana shook her head in disgust. “Accept what your eyes show you,” she muttered. “That’s what I told Paulo to do, but like he said, I don’t take my own advice.”
Aaron placed a comforting hand on Ana’s arm. “Second-guessing yourself is damaging, Ana. You’re doing a great job. With Paulo, you were working against years of superstition and a jungle upbringing. He wasn’t exactly educated at Cambridge. He learned his ways out here in the forest, where there are more shadows than light.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Ana whined in self-pity. “Maybe he knew more than he even realized. The day has barely begun and three of our students are AWOL. I’ve already lost more than half of the team.” She laughed. “The self-educated half who knew their way around this forest; they’re gone.” She shook her head in frustration. “The truly smart ones have escaped and left us, the university learned, on our own in this masquerade, this façade.” She hesitated. "And, without even trying, I've lost almost half of that group."
“A façade,” Neville echoed. “What an interesting term. This whole thing appears like window dressing. We’ve been so busy looking at the huts, we’ve failed to notice the one structure that should have been noted.” He quietly nodded to the gleaming white stone structure which had been air-brushed out of her original photo. “Aren’t you curious?” He raised a tufted white eyebrow in question.
Ana stood and brushed off her khaki hiking pants. “What can it hurt?” she growled. “Maybe we’ll finally find something solid to dig our teeth into.”
Neville, Ana, and Aaron strolled toward the tall cylindrical building with the golden roof which sat at the point in the village closest to the geoglyph. At first, the structure appeared to be white-washed but upon closer inspection, the stones façade was of white marble, heavily weathered from centuries of rain. A large, solid wooden door commanded the ground floor. The tower was twelve, perhaps fifteen feet tall. Near the top, a row of narrow openings with small awning structures could be seen, too small for anything but defense. The gilded roof glinted in the hot tropical sun. The hike took them through the village, past the Royal Oca, and nearly to the forest on the other side.
Neville leaned with one shoulder against the tower wall. He looked straight up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “I say,” he exclaimed. “The roofing tiles aren’t gilded. It appears they’re cast from solid gold.”
Aaron joined his stare then reached to test the door. It was solidly secured but with no visible lock. He was pounding around the frame when they were startled by a noise from behind.
Zreia had followed them from the village and quickly approached. She bowed to Ana and gave Aaron a less-than-friendly glare. “Itotia has sent me to tell you of the fire tonight,” she said. “You are to attend, as may the other members of your group. Do you have any questions?”
Ana began to shake her head no but stopped. “Is this a celebration? If so, for what?”
“Tonight we celebrate for Tinga and Janiza. They are to pass through the Eye of Knowledge and learn the wonders of eternal...” She hesitated. “I do not know the words to describe it in Portuguese.”
“That’s fine,” Ana said, smiling at the red-eyed woman. “Then we will see Tinga tonight?”
Zreia’s eyes narrowed and the edge of her lips curled in a smile. “Yes, tonight you will see Tinga.”
Aaron frowned. “I thought Itotia said we would not see her again,” he questioned.
“He has changed his mind,” Zreia said, casting a flaring red glare in his direction.
“Can you tell us what this tower is for, Zreia?” Ana asked.
She smiled in unmistakable pride. “Our tribe is ancient, from the first days when the night separated from the day. We have had many eras that have passed away into only the memories of the ancient ones. Long before even Itotia was born, when the waters were low and travel was easier, we lived as a proud people. Our dwellings were vast and too beautiful even to be described today. All the peoples of the forest were jealous and tried to steal our place under the sun. But our men were ingenious. They built walls and fortresses that were too mighty for anyone to conquer. This is the Tower of the Jaguar, an outlook for the city where my ancestors lived.”
“Your men built this?” Neville asked, his eyes alive with questions. “What happened to your men?”
“In those days,” Zreia continued, as if repeating a story she had heard a hundred times, “our women were weak. They remained in the ocas, gossiping around the fires. When the Grandmothers arrived, they taught our women to be fierce and strong. Today, it is the men who keep the fires lit at night.”
“And where are they?” Aaron shot back.
Her eyes clouded over, wrested from the dreamy territory of legends. “I must be on my way. I’ll come to get you tonight for the fire.” She turned and hastened away before Ana or Aaron could gather their wits to ask another question.
Ana darted after her. “Who are the Grandmothers?” she asked quickly.
“You may
discuss this more deeply with Itotia,” Zreia answered, her pace quickening. “It is she who guards the legends and traditions of our people before he arrived.” When she broke into a run, Ana could no longer keep up. She returned to her team with eyes glowing from discovery.
“Did she just say he?” Aaron asked. “I’m sure I heard her say HE and then she left.”
“I doubt it was Freudian,” Ana said. “I heard it, too. Very distinctly. Very clear. He.” She frowned. “I thought Itotia was in charge — you know, the queen.”
Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “Every queen must have a king. Maybe tonight we will get to see and meet more of the males in this village.”
Aaron reached out to test the door again. There was no handle, doorknob, or easily defined access. Aaron glanced about then snickered. “As if somebody would be here,” he whispered and pressed his shoulder against the heavy wooden door. It didn’t budge. “Must be barred on the inside.”
“Don’t even think about breaking it down,” Ana snapped. “Besides, it seems only to be ruins of a past structure.”
“Definitely built for defense,” Aaron said. “They’ve preserved an oral tradition of even the climatic conditions. There is so much to learn here.” He cocked his head toward the camp. “Shall we head back?”
They hadn’t walked a hundred yards before Aaron noticed movement on the embankment of the geoglyph. “My God, look!” he exclaimed.
Wayne stumbled to the top of the embankment and fell forward onto his hands and knees. He emptied the contents of his stomach into the tall grass in powerful convulsions. The three took off in a sprint to where he had collapsed.
“What happened?” Ana shouted at Wayne as she approached.
“I found Megan,” Wayne gasped then gave a few more heaves.
“Where are Marshall and Barbara?” Aaron asked. “Are they helping her?”
Wayne shook his head slowly back and forth. “It’s too late,” he mumbled.
“What do you mean ‘too late?’ Too late for what?” Ana was irritated. “Take us to them.”
The young man pointed at the jungle. “Just follow the trail,” he muttered. “I ain’t going back there.” He pulled his feet up, wrapped his arms around his bent knees, and sat staring back from where he’d come. “She’s dead.”
“Dead?” Neville whispered.
Wayne pressed his head between his pulled up knees and whimpered. “Nobody said anything about all this shit when they talked me into this gig. I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Did you find Barbara and Marshall?” Aaron asked. Wayne just shook his head with a no, his face buried in his knees.
“Where’s Nancy?” Ana asked.
“She stayed with the body.” Wayne’s body shook in weeping convulsions. “She didn’t deserve to die; at least, not that way,” the young man whimpered between sobs.
Ana, Aaron, and Neville stood facing each other, their faces gray with shock. “I’ll go find Megan,” Aaron said. He turned to head where Wayne stared in horror.
“Neville, can you stay here with Wayne?” Ana asked. “I’m the one in charge and if one of my team is dead, I want to know why and how.” She jogged off behind Aaron, down the embankment and toward the forest.
They’d only gone about fifty yards when they spotted the small clearing. It was an obvious trysting site for a tête-à-tête since it was still heavily shaded by the overhead growth but much of the undergrowth had been cleared. Soft mosses covered the ground. Almost in the center, they found Megan sprawled on the ground with Nancy on her knees a few feet away, sobbing quietly. At first, Megan appeared only to be asleep, but as they kneeled next to her pale form, it was clear she was gone. Ana turned her head and covered her mouth as her worst fear seized control of her breathing: one of her team was dead.
Megan sprawled out on the ground where she’d fallen. Her legs were bent slightly and the body was somewhat twisted. Megan’s flowing red hair was tossed back to expose her slender white neck. What shocked Aaron was Megan’s throat. It had been ripped out as if some large carnivore had bitten in and torn a chunk away. The mess of raw flesh lay to the side.
Aaron stood and began to unbutton his shirt. His face was as white as a hotel sheet. “If we leave her here the animals will pick her clean. And, we can’t take her back to camp like this.” He knelt to wrap the cloth around her head and neck when a loud snap of a branch startled them.
Two men stepped into the clearing, both clearly startled to see Ana and Aaron. Nancy stood and dashed to Ana’s side. The natives hung their heads but walked forward.
“We have come for—” The lead man pointed at Megan’s body.
Ana studied the one who had spoken. He seemed familiar and she quickly remembered, he was the same man who had pushed her away from the cremation chimney.
“Why do you want her?” Ana demanded.
“It is our way,” the man replied.
“How did you know she was here?” Ana demanded.
“Our god told us,” the other man whispered.
“How did your god know she was here?” Aaron asked.
The two men quickly looked up at him then glanced at each other. Just as quickly, they both bowed their heads. “He is our god,” the first one said and began to approach them. “We must be about our work.”
Ana planted her feet between the natives and Megan. “Well, there’s no way you’re going to burn one of my team,” she barked. “You go tell that to your god. Call Itotia. I’ll tell her myself.”
The pair looked down to the ground but showed no sign of leaving. “She is not here,” the first one said.
“Well, where is she?” Ana snapped.
They didn’t answer but took a step together toward Megan’s corpse. Ana clenched her fists and stood her ground.
“If you want Megan’s body, you’ll have to take mine to get it.” She was furious but, in a scuffle, would not have been a challenge for either of the young, muscular men.”
“Get out of here,” she growled. “And tell your god and queen they’ll have to answer to me for this butchery.”
Together they bowed and backed away into the forest. Ana remained tense as adrenaline rushed through her blood.
“Hmmm,” Aaron said. “I’m impressed. You actually scared them off.”
She took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. “It’s a matriarchal society, remember?” she said. “For once, it paid to be a woman.”
Aaron picked up Megan and carried her like a sleeping child — a very pale child. Even though it appeared her body had been drained of all blood, a small amount spread out from her throat over his chest and arms. Aaron seemed not to notice. Together, he and Ana slowly walked back to where Neville waited with Wayne. Nancy walked next to Megan’s feet, unconsciously massaging them as if she could comfort the dead girl.
Above them under the canopy, a black form circled on powerful wings. It frightened Ana to the core and seemed less and less like any vulture she had ever seen.
Chapter Twenty-Two
THE SECRETS
In Boca do Acre, the houses were small and the temperature was 102ºF. It’s no wonder half the town spent its afternoons perched on their sidewalks. The residents of Boca do Acre were doing exactly that when blood began to ooze down the step at the rectory of Our Lady of Aparecida.
Maria hadn’t been the one to issue the scream that slashed through the sleepy late morning. That had been Talita, a hairstylist on her way to her first afternoon appointment. She stepped right in the gooey slime. The gore splattered on her white uniform shoes. She uttered “Que merda,” then crossed herself when she remembered where she was. Maria watched silently from the other side of the street, resting next to her man, José. Talita let loose a shriek when she tried to open the gate to tell Father Bora about the mess. It banged against the soles of his shoes just a few inches inside. She put her shoulder to use and nearly stumbled onto his corpse. When she discovered what was on her shoes, she vomited and threw her almost new shoes in
to the street.
The Military and Civil Police were the authority for the town. The river was Edson’s. He watched his colleagues work the scene in quiet indifference. Crimes didn’t get solved in Boca. They just faded into unpleasant memories. Edson was worried. They were already canvassing the block, asking everyone if they’d seen the jaguar.
He ambled across the street to José and Maria. If the sun was shining, they were most likely seated exactly where they were now.
“Was it a cat?” he asked Maria. He’d never heard José speak. His toothless mouth was still and expressionless.
“I didn’t see a cat,” she replied. “It was…”
“Shush,” José snapped, his eyes fiery.
“I will not.”
“You will too,” he barked and glared at the woman.
“Quiet, old man,” Maria said. “It was mulher morcego.”
“Puta que pariu,” José swore, stood up, and hobbled his way down the street.”
Edson sat in his place. “What did you see, Maria?” he asked, softly in confidence.
She stared at the confusion across from her house. “A bat flapped in. It perched in the mango tree next to the rectory. It swooped down. I heard Father Bora fall. Then it flew away. You never see a bat a noontime. Not a healthy one.”
“Did you tell the civilian police what you saw?”
“They wanted to know if I’d seen the cat. I said no.” She blinked innocently at him.
“Why didn’t you tell them about mulher morcego?”
Maria looked Edson square in the eyes. Wrinkles radiated from every point on her face through skin so dark it could be leather as she smiled that knowing look. Her eyes were a striking black, even darker than her freshly dyed hair. She’d come out of the forest as a child and still spoke Portuguese with a slight indigenous accent. “I like to sit here with José. We watch the city go by. I still have a few more years. It’s enough.” She stood to walk down the street after her old man who pouted on the next corner.
