by K. T. Tomb
“Pat,” the Englishman said.
Cash looked up and swore. “Hi Tim, my pet.”
“What the hell do you think you're doing?”
Cash blinked, looking up at her husband innocently. She raised her new passport. “Getting my passport, dearest.”
“Right. And what were you doing before that?” Tim looked angry.
Cash blinked. “Research.”
“Right.” Tim sighed. “And I suppose you're catching the flight to London now?”
Cash grinned and looked up at the board. “Actually, I am flying to Paramaribo, my love.” She patted Tim on the cheek and kissed his lips. “You're welcome to come along, but the check in has closed and therefore it will be impossible for you to get a ticket.” She pulled Tim against her, pressing his hips against hers. “I have missed you, but sadly I have no time to stay with you right now.” With that she picked up her bag and skipped away. She deliberately skipped, knowing the childishness would annoy her husband. He thought her childish and irresponsible most of the time. She was, too, and she knew it.
“And what the hell do you think you will find in Surinam?” Tim shouted at her.
Cash turned around and smiled at him. “Why the City of Gold, of course.”
She boarded the Surinam Air plane before Tim could intercept her again. She heard him shouting at the gate as she took her seat. She spoke to a woman next to her, who inquired whether that was her husband.
“Yeah, that he is.”
“Not getting on?” the woman asked.
“No, just not doing what he wants.”
The woman chuckled. “That's the way of it. Free spirit?”
Cash grinned. That was exactly what she was.
“And he wants to chain you?”
Cash thought about that for a moment. “Not really, he just wants me to be more responsible and more like a wife.” She laughed. “But he never was able to tell me what to do.”
The woman laughed. “Good on you, girl.”
The plane took off for the flight to Paramaribo with Cash still hearing Tim's words ringing in her ears. She resolved to call him when she got to Surinam.
On time, an hour and a half later, the craft touched down at Zanderij and Cash rushed to collect her luggage. When she turned her phone on again, there were no messages, so as she waited for the bus to Paramaribo, she called Tim.
He answered immediately. “Pat?”
“Look, I'm sorry for all of that. You know I can take care of myself, you don't need to take care of me.”
She heard Tim sigh. “So what is it now?”
“I'm in Surinam; got an idea for a book, since the other idea might have to go on hold. And I'm here for research.”
“Right.”
“So...” she hesitated, not knowing what else to say.
Tim sighed again. “You don't want me coming after you, I suppose?”
Cash shook her head, then realized Tim could not see that. “No, I want you to stop fussing over me.”
“So I go back to Wales and pretend you've not been missing for a month and still running around some jungle in South America because you've got some idea that might get you in danger again?”
Cash thought on that. “Yes,” she answered after a while.
“Not going to happen.”
“Suit yourself.”
There was silence for a while, but neither hung up. Meanwhile the bus arrived and Cash got on, paying for the fare with her phone still to her ear.
“I'll stay here. And I'll want a damned update every other day. If I don't hear from you for a week, I will come and find you.”
Cash considered that. “If that makes you feel better.” She sighed. Calling home would be a nuisance. “But then you'd better help me out when I need you to figure out stuff for me.”
“Isn't that what I usually do?” Tim asked. “When you're not too stubborn to disappear for a month.”
“Suppose so,” Cash answered in an annoyed tone.
“I love you, Pat.”
“Ditto, Tim. Ditto.” With that she pressed the red symbol on her phone.
The bus took Cash into the center of Paramaribo. Like Willemstad, it was an old Dutch colonial town. Some of the buildings reminded her of those in old towns around New York State, where the Dutch had begun the European settlement. In fact, the Antilles and Surinam were part of the price the British paid the Dutch Republic for the island of Manhattan and the city of New Amsterdam. Not surprising, the fort the Dutch had built to protect their original trading post had been called New Amsterdam too.
In town Cash found a hotel in the center, close to the Gouvernementsgebouw, the old government house which now served as the presidential palace. She wanted to see whether there was some possibility of checking for sources. Maybe there was still a bit of information to glean in some of the archives of the city and the government of Surinam before heading back into the jungle. There was a far bigger chance of finding something in Paramaribo than in Georgetown. The river she would have to follow had been controlled by the Dutch and then Surinam for longer than it had been by the British and Guyana. To this day the river itself was part of Surinam, not Guyana.
As soon as she had checked in and dropped off her belongings, she went into town. But unlike in Willemstad, she found Surinam did not have a national library. After inquiring, she found the Dutch Royal Library and other organizations had created a website to make public all their sources and records. It made her work a bit easier than going through everything page by page, but she preferred it being a library.
There were still the government and city archives though, and the next day Cash went to the town hall to check there. But they did not have anything. The woman behind the desk did refer her to the Nationaal Archief Suriname, the Surinam National Archive, which was a few streets away from the university.
When she got there, she found the desk was manned by a young man, probably a student at the nearby university.
“Hiya, mate,” she said as she got to the desk. The guy did not look up. Cash noticed the bell on the desk and she rang it. Only then did the young man spring to life. And he seemed quite surprised to see the pretty Australian blonde standing before his desk. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Cat got your tongue?” Cash smiled at him. She looked down at herself and reckoned she probably was a sight for sore eyes in this neck of the woods. There had been a few white women walking around in the city, blondes even, which seemed to attract the local men, but all of them had been dressed more modestly than she had been. Not that her clothing was immodest. She had just decided to wear her jungle clothes, which were her shorts, a tank top and her green shirt. Maybe she ought to do up some of the buttons, she reckoned.
“Sorry, kan ik je ergens mee helpen?”
Cash looked at him for a second, then remembered the Dutch she had learned years back. She was very rusty, but she managed to make some sense when she told him she was looking for anything on the Corantijn River.
The young man began searching in his computer and he frowned. He then asked her whether she was interested in historical sources, geological surveys or current material.
Cash thought a moment and then told him she would start with the historical sources and then look at the geological stuff. There might not be a lot in the pile of documents that would have accumulated over the past few years concerning the dispute over the river between Surinam and Guyana.
It was hours of dull work to dig through the pile of papers, but eventually Cash did find something of interest. She then asked the young man at the desk whether he could help her check it against the geological surveys. He smiled and said he would have to go back to his classes at the university soon. He would close the whole place down and then someone else would open up again tonight.
Cash swore. “So you mean I'll have to come back and ask you tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “Classes all day tomorrow, so tomorrow we're closed.”
&nbs
p; Cash frowned. “You mean a government office is closed because you have classes?”
The bloke nodded. “Yup. Only three of us here, me and two elderly ladies. Got a manager as well, but he's never here really.”
Cash sighed. “So... day after tomorrow?”
He nodded.
“Any way I can speed all that up?”
The man closed an eye and looked at her carefully. Then he smiled and winked. “Maybe if I get to take you out for a drink tonight, I'll be able to do that work in my lunch break?”
Cash grinned. “I'd be happy to go for a drink with you, but I don't even know your name.”
“John. John van der Beek.”
Cash smiled. “Cash Cassidy.”
Chapter Five
“Local inhabitants usually claimed that El Dorado was somewhere far away in the hope that the Europeans would search elsewhere and leave them in peace. Men as famous as Sir Walter Raleigh spent years in South America looking for legendary golden cities such as Manoa and Omagua. Other places mentioned in stories were Paititi, a land of gold located in Paraguay, and the City of the Caesars, an invisible golden city in Chile. Several bloody expeditions were launched to find these imaginary kingdoms. One of the most tragic was led by a rebel soldier named Lope de Aguirre, a brutal madman who proclaimed himself king and was murdered by one of his followers.”
—Myths and Legends of the World | 2001
When John van der Beek got to her hotel, Cash was waiting. She had dressed in the few items she had bought for just such an occasion. The little black dress and the pumps. She smiled at the young chap, or more specifically, at the bag with papers he was carrying.
“Hi.”
John smiled and gestured toward the empty street. “Ready?”
“Yup.” Cash answered and she grabbed her bag.
They walked down the street to a bar. They stayed in the center of the city and Cash noticed plenty of tourists walking around also. She did not reckon a local boy would choose a spot here normally, but he was trying to put her at ease as well.
The bar was filled with all sorts of people. They sat down at one corner of the bar itself and John asked her what she wanted to drink. She said she would like a beer, and then she turned her attention to the bag.
“What do you have with you?”
John waited a moment to answer, until two glasses of Amstel lager were placed in front of them. He took a swig then and sighed.
“Well, I think I found something for you.”
“You did?” Cash's eyes lit up.
John nodded and pulled a folder out of his bag. “Here's some copies I took. There's a bit of information on what you were looking for. More than I expected, actually.”
“How much did you expect?”
John grinned. “None.”
Cash chuckled. “But there's something to find then?”
As an answer, John dug into the briefcase and pulled out a folder. “This is what you were looking at. It's a record made by one of the few Dutch explorers who went into the interior.” He pulled out another folder. “This one is from a Portuguese man who took the same route. Well, a similar route anyway.” A third folder appeared from the bag. “This is the only survey ever conducted of the area they traveled through. The Dutch government did it in the late fifties. I think they wanted to see whether they could find the resources here that were lost when they lost Indonesia.”
Cash reached for the file, but John withdrew it. “I'll give you this at the end of the evening.”
Cash frowned. “Are you blackmailing me now with that? Very cheeky.”
John grinned. “I think you'll run off to read this and do whatever you want to be doing with this the moment I give it to you. The least I want out of this is to get to know the beautiful woman who came to ask me about something so intriguing.”
Cash grinned as well. “Well, you're a smart bloke, mate. Because I guess you're right.”
“So...” John nodded at her. “Do begin. Who are you, what brings you here?”
Cash chuckled. She was actually enjoying this. She would never be unfaithful to her husband. A while back, in California, she might have, especially with her friend Jack. But not now. Unconsciously, she laid her hand on the table, making sure her wedding band was on show. But John van der Beek was looking at her face, not her hand.
“Well, I'm Cash, Cash Cassidy.”
“Weird name, Cash.”
Cash shrugged. “My parents called me Patricia, or Pat. Playing tennis, it turned into Cash pretty quickly.” She looked at the young man closely, but he did not seem to recognize where the nickname came from.
“So what do you do, Cash?”
“I'm a writer, John.”
“A writer?” He frowned. “And you can survive off that?”
Cash laughed. “Yes, I do quite well with it.”
“Must be good then. Wrote anything I would have read?”
Cash began listing her stories, but none of them rang a bell with the man.
“I do mainly read Dutch books. Some Portuguese. But mainly Dutch.”
“So what about you?”
“Well, I study geology at the Anton de Kom University here. Born in Amsterdam to Suriname parents, and we moved back here.”
“Why that?” Cash asked with a frown. “Mostly it's the other way around.”
John shrugged. “I think my dad had some trouble and he didn’t think we should stay in Holland. Never did get the details on that.”
Cash nodded. “And, of course, you work at that office.”
“I do.” John said. He touched her hand then. “But here's a question: is there a Mr. Cash?”
Cash pulled her hand back and ran her thumb over her ring. “Sort of. I call him Tim though.”
“Ah.” The young man looked crestfallen.
Cash reached out and touched his hand, which had remained on the table. She smiled. “Disappointed?”
“Uhm...”
“Don't be. Even if I were not married, nothing would have happened.” She winked. “I'm just not that type of sheila. I'm the type who wants to have a good time with a few pints, have fun with nice people and bugger all the silly girl stuff.”
For a moment John's face betrayed nothing, then he began to laugh. “Well, you're certainly an unusual woman.”
Cash winked again. “That's me, unusual.” She raised her glass and slammed the lager down. “Cheers!”
She bought the next round, and John seemed to get over his disappointment with that. After they finished, he bought the next drinks, but Cash ordered some shots to go with it. Two tequilas later, John was getting drunk, but Cash was able to hold her drink rather well. She began asking him about what he had found. She might find his explanation as a geologist helpful. Surveys were not her thing. She could get through them, but usually her mind began to drift and she got bored. But it had seemed John knew what he had read and what had drawn her attention.
“Well, this thing you were looking at, right?” His voice was slurred. “The gold dust in the river. The Corantijn is pretty troubled most of the way, but it seems there is gold dust flowing down from some place. Well, this survey might have the clue to what you're looking for.”
“It does?” Cash slammed down another shot. They had switched to rum by now.
“Yeah.” John slammed down the rum too, but almost coughed it up again. He kept coughing and Cash slapped him on the back. “Thanks.” When he recovered, he continued his story. “So this survey starts from the Sipaliwini Savannah and then they mapped the whole Sipaliwini River and into the Corantijn and all the way to its estuary. It says they began noticing a sheen in the water not long after joining the river they reckoned was the Corantijn.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It seems they thought there was gold there, but they took samples and all they could find was gold dust.”
“So just dust?”
John nodded. “They seemed to think it started after they passed a waterfall, but they w
ere not able to confirm it at all.”
Cash bought the next two rounds and then went to the hotel around midnight. She poured John into a cab on the way, but made sure he had her phone number. In her hotel room, she looked through the folders she had been given. An hour after she opened the folder she opened her laptop and began looking for a few things.
The next day she called to Zanderij Airport and arranged a plane to take her into the inner belly of the country. Then she went down to a few shops and bought the items she reckoned she would need and arranged to have them sent to Zanderij Airport. She checked on John and his hangover and then, when he asked, she told him about her plan. She sent an email to Tim as well, reckoning he should know where she would be heading.
That evening, she packed everything properly, using the dry bags she had gotten that afternoon and she went to sleep knowing she would finally be swinging into action and make her attempt to find the City of Gold.
The airplane she got on at Zanderij was an old Fokker F-27 Friendship. There were another few passengers, but mainly it was stowed with cargo, some of which was the gear she had bought the other day. She knew she would need a boat, so she had bought a canoe which she would use to drift down the Sipaliwini River when she got there, just outside of Kwamalasamutu, in the Sipaliwini district of Suriname. She had taken some supplies as well, and two extra paddles. There were several dry bags and a life vest. If she was traveling by canoe, she would have the option of carrying ample supplies with her, so she had made sure to have enough to get through a week at least. She could fish and trap and she knew a bit about the plant life to know how to survive if her supplies ran out, but she did not like to rely on that knowledge, scant as it was.
Only a few minutes after the plane left the ground, they left the city of Paramaribo and its suburbs behind them. They circled as they gained altitude and then headed inland. The Atlantic became a thin blue line behind Cash and a sea of green appeared in front of her. The hills and the tree tops made it seem like a sea too. It waved up and down and it seemed to move as the winds caught the tree tops. There were mountains far in the distance, and there were fewer and fewer settlements below. Eventually, it seemed there were no villages or towns at all. Once in a while, a plume of smoke along the river betrayed the presence of other people, but there was no other sign of their presence.
