Emily struggled with Ian’s words. They had had a visitor in their church once whose ministry was to prisoners in jail, and he had said, “A lot of men in prison get what they call jailhouse religion. It doesn’t mean they know God. It simply means they pretend to so that they can gain favor with the warden and chaplain, the guards, and the parole board. It’s hard to tell it from the real thing, for some men are fine actors. They get that way in prison.”
As Emily recalled the evangelist’s words, she was convinced that Ian Marlowe was using her again. She stared at him, and he met her gaze evenly.
“I don’t expect you believe any of that, Emily, and you won’t believe the rest either.”
“Go on. What happened then?” Emily said, her voice tense and filled with strain.
“I stayed at the mission there, and I got a lot of help. I felt God wanted me to do something, and the director of the mission, his name was Smith, helped me a lot. Finally I knew God wanted me to be some kind of a preacher. That came as pretty much of a shock.” Ian smiled then and shook his head ruefully. “It took a lot for God to convince me, but I finally began speaking mostly to small groups at the mission there. And then something happened. I knew God wanted me to carry the gospel in some way to the world, but I didn’t know how.”
Emily listened skeptically as Ian Marlowe went on to tell that for a year he had done nothing but study the Bible and ask God to show him which way to go.
“Finally I was turning through a book. I saw a map of South America, and I knew that I would be here. The next thing I did was to learn Portuguese. Somehow I knew I’d be coming to this part of the world, and so I studied hard. I found out I was good at languages, and two years ago I decided to come to Brazil.”
“Where did you get the money?” Emily asked sharply.
“I went around to all the mission boards I could find out about, but nobody would have me. Well, one of them said they would, but I’d have to go to seminary for years, and I didn’t want to do that. So I got a job on the docks, saved all my money until I got enough to pay for my passage, and then I came. I got off the boat at Belém, just as you probably did, and started up the river. I had no idea where I was going, but God had told me I would preach the gospel to those who had never heard it. Finally,” he concluded, “I arrived here. I was pretty sick, half starved, but Adriano and Sarita took me in. The first thing I did was get malaria, so I was helpless. I think I’d have died if it hadn’t been for them.”
Despite her grave distrust, Emily felt a strange interest in Ian’s story. “When did you start going into the Guapi country?”
“As soon as I shook the malaria off,” Marlowe said. “Everybody told me I was a fool, but I felt that it was God, so I just walked in. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill me. They are headhunters. I think they didn’t know what to make of me.” Marlowe looked down at the cup, drained the tea, then said, “It took me a year to get any kind of foothold, but I was able to be of some help to a relative of the chief’s. He taught me the Guapi language, so that’s what I do now. I go in, and I try to tell them about Jesus. They tolerate me, some of them that is, but they can be dangerous.”
Emily did not know what to think. She was torn by the apparent sincerity of the man and the treachery that she had experienced by him in the past.
Finally she said, “You’re probably wondering why we’re here.”
“The thought has crossed my mind.” Marlowe smiled faintly. “After I wrote you the letter asking you to forgive me, I thought I’d never see you again.”
Emily flushed slightly, for she remembered how harshly she had answered this man’s plea for forgiveness. Then a flash of anger arose in her again as she realized that he had not been completely upfront with them even in that letter. “Why did you write to us using the name James Parker if you wanted to set everything straight?” She glared at him, waiting for him to form a response.
Ian put his head down and said nothing for a few moments. Then with a pained expression, he explained, “I’ve made so many bad choices in my life, Emily, and God is helping me rebuild my life based on truth now, not on lies. Believe me that it wasn’t my intention to continue to deceive you, but I thought it would be too much of a shock to receive a communication from a complete stranger. I thought it best to broach the subject as the person you already knew—James Parker. I didn’t want you to know where I was, so I had a friend from the mission forward my letter to you. I had planned to reveal my true identity to you if you had responded positively, but as it turned out, there was no need to say anything further. Again, I can only beg your forgiveness.”
Now Emily felt more flustered than ever. “I honestly don’t know what I can believe about you, Ian—if that is indeed your real name.” Then to cover up her confusion and change to a more comfortable topic, she said, “The reason we’re here is to work. We’ve been commissioned by National Geographic to do a story on a tribe, and we want to go to the Guapi.”
“You’d better find another tribe.”
“That’s what everyone says, but that’s not what I want to do.”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” Marlowe said. He looked up suddenly and turned to his right, for Sarita had come in. “Sarita, we’ll let Miss Winslow have my room. I can bunk outside.”
“As you wish.”
As Sarita went to stand close beside Marlowe, Emily saw a possessiveness in the girl’s attitude. Sarita’s eyes were filled with mistrust, and Emily said quickly, “No, we brought tents. We’ll sleep in those.”
****
“I don’t know what to do, Wes,” Emily said. The two had pitched their small tents outside, and now in the darkness they felt very small indeed. The jungle rose on both sides, swallowing them with its massive growth. Wes had come into Emily’s tent, which was just large enough to hold the two of them. They had talked for some time about the strangeness of it all, and now Emily shook her head. “Can we trust him, Wes?”
“I don’t know. From what he’s said, he seems to have made an honest change, but he fooled us before.” Wes slapped at a mosquito, then shook his head and said, “It’s going to be tough, Emily. I just don’t know if I want to put my life in his hands or not.”
The two sat there talking quietly, and both were aware of the sounds outside the small tents. Adriano had vainly attempted to get them to stay in the room that Ian Marlowe occupied, but Emily had said, “No, we’re going to be roughing it. Here’s a good time to try out our equipment.”
Now she shook her head and said, “We have to make a decision, Wes. We can either go find a more civilized tribe, or we can choose to trust that Ian has really changed and put ourselves into this man’s hands. It’s a hard thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Wes agreed.
The two sat there silently, and finally Wes said, “The decision has to be yours, Emily. This is your show.”
Emily had known the final decision would be hers to make, and so she told Wes good-night and lay down to sleep. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, startled from time to time by the screams of howler monkeys and other strange noises that she could not identify. The Amazon was an alien world, and she knew their trip could become dangerous if they went farther into the interior. If one of them got hurt, there would be no running to the doctor, for there were no doctors. There were no grocery stores, no pharmacies, no policemen, just miles and miles of undisturbed rain forest. As she lay in the sultry heat of the night, she struggled with the problem of what to do. Finally she knew that she would have to do what she had come to Brazil to accomplish. She fell into a fitful sleep, and when she awoke the next morning, she went straightaway to Ian. He was sitting on the porch writing something in a book and greeted her quickly.
“Good morning, Emily. How did you sleep?”
“How do you think, with all those monkeys screaming all night!”
“After a while you’ll get used to it and won’t even notice,” Ian said.
“I’m going to be very hones
t with you, Ian.” It was difficult to call him that, for the name James leaped to her lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for your deceit and for what happened to my brother. I realize it wasn’t your fault that he had pneumonia, that he might have died anyway.” She waited for him to answer and to make some sort of excuse for his behavior, but he simply stood there in the pale light of the dawn. The jungle was waking up about them, and the sun was mostly shielded in the east. But the pale rays were breaking through the tall trees onto the small house that occupied a microscopic niche in this huge rain forest. “I’m forced to ask a favor. Will you take us to the Guapi country?”
Marlowe studied Emily thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure everyone’s already told you that’s not a good idea.”
“We’ve already been told that by the Pettigrews back in Santarém, but I feel we need to go. I have to do this story,” Emily insisted.
“Are you sure it’s God’s will?”
It was the kind of question that James Parker would never have asked. Emily suddenly remembered the spiritual struggles this man had gone through when he’d stayed with her family. She remembered being in a service with him when it appeared that he was moved by the gospel and was ready to give his life to Christ. The moment had passed, but now as she stood before him, she was aware how strange it was that he would be talking about God’s will. For some reason it made her resentful, and she said quickly, “I sometimes have difficulty knowing God’s will, but I’m going until I get a red light. Will you take us?”
Instead of answering, Marlowe turned and gazed out into the immensity of the jungle. She noted again his cleft chin and high cheekbones. He had evidently shaved, for his face was ruddy, and she noted a scar that she had never seen before that ran along his jawbone.
“The Guapi are killers and can be very dangerous, but you don’t always see that. They can be very hospitable, very warm, but sometimes the smallest provocation can set them off, and they’ll kill in an instant. You’ll be risking your life, Emily, and I don’t think your parents would approve.”
“They knew we would be facing danger,” Emily said quickly. “Will you take us?”
Reluctantly Marlowe nodded. “I don’t like it, and I can’t say yes or no. Let me pray about it, Emily, and you should pray, too. More than you’ve ever prayed about anything, perhaps.”
At that moment Wes suddenly appeared, and the three went inside to eat breakfast.
The group seemed constrained, and Adriano could not understand it. He kept watching the face of Marlowe and then the faces of his guests. He waited until all three of them had left, then said, “Sarita, there’s something going on with those three. Strange that they should come here and find Ian.”
“They would be better off to go back. They have no place here,” Sarita said.
“I think you are right, but that Emily seems to be a stubborn woman. I wonder what was between her and Ian back when they knew each other.”
Sarita turned quickly. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “Between them.”
“They have strong feelings for each other.”
“She hates him. I could see that,” Sarita said.
“That is very close to love. In all the time we have known him, Ian has never mentioned a woman, a wife or anyone. Perhaps this is why. This woman who comes out of nowhere from his past.”
“I do not believe it. I wish they would go away.”
Outside, Wes and Emily were discussing their plight. Wes began at once by saying, “Emily, I don’t think we should go to the Guapi. From what everyone’s been telling us, it’s just too dangerous.”
“Has Ian been talking to you?”
“Yes. He did tell me about some of the dangers that could happen out there. Maybe we should have listened to the Pettigrews and found a peaceful tribe near them.”
“We’ve got to go to the Guapi, Wes. The assignment was to write a story on a tribe that has had hardly any contact with civilization,” Emily said.
“Are you sure we can trust him? We trusted him once,” Wes said grimly, “and we got burned. You more than the rest of us.”
Emily flushed, for she knew Wes was referring to her attraction to this man. “I was a fool back then,” she said.
“Well, he does seem different now.”
“He seemed good to us when we first met him!” Emily said sharply. “But he’s the only one who can take us. I’m going, Wes,” she said abruptly.
“Then I’ll go with you. I can’t let you go alone.”
They went to find Ian, and at once Emily said, “Have you made up your mind?”
Ian said, “Are you determined on going through with this?”
“Yes, we are,” Emily returned stoutly.
“All right. I think it’s a mistake, but I’ll take you to the Guapi. It’ll be up to God to keep you safe.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A Dangerous Trip
“I’m afraid I’ll have to check all of your gear.”
Ian Marlowe was standing in front of the gear that Wes and Emily had laid out on the ground. He had told them the night before that it would be impossible to carry all that had been ferried in by the dugout. For the rest of their journey, they would have to carry all the supplies they would need on their backs.
Emily Winslow, over the years, had become a free spirit. She had always been a trifle headstrong, well able to control most circumstances and situations, but here in the bleak morning hours, when the feeble rays of the rising sun filled the clearing with a milky light, she felt intimidated and somewhat insulted.
“But these are just my personal belongings,” she said quickly. “They couldn’t be of any interest to you.”
Ian looked down at the rather large package in Emily’s pile of goods and shook his head. “I’m interested in our getting there,” he said pleasantly and then smiled. “I know it may sound bossy to you, Emily, but every ounce is going to count on this trip.”
Wes stood over to one side and could not restrain a grin. He listened as the two argued, and finally, with a furious gesture, Emily opened the bag and tossed out her “personal” items. For some reason it delighted Wes to hear Ian say, “I think you’d still better cut that pile in half, Emily.”
Not accustomed to having her underwear viewed by strangers, Emily stared at Ian. It was in her mind that he was using her in some way, and she protested. “Well, I’ve got to have clean clothes.”
“You’ll just have to take fewer and wash them more often, I’m afraid.” Ian’s voice was firm, and he bent over to examine the rest of her gear. He put approximately half of it to one side, and Emily protested every decision. Finally Ian seemed satisfied.
Wes noticed that Ian had shifted at least a third of his gear, and Emily’s also, to his own pack. Wes’s gear consisted largely of photographic equipment, which proved to be the heaviest part of the load. When Ian came over and shook his head, Wes said, “I’ve got to have all of this, Ian. I need it to get the pictures we’ll need for Emily’s story.”
“Well, you can try, but let me tell you, your shoulders are going to be pulling out of their sockets with all this gear before we’re a day away from here.”
“Aren’t we taking any food?” Emily asked. She was still annoyed with Ian’s rather domineering ways, for so she considered them, and she faced him with determination.
“I’m afraid all we’ll be taking will be salt and whatever medicine you need. I’ll be shooting game for the pot as we need it.”
Suddenly he smiled, and Emily noted how much younger it made him look.
“You’ll be eating some rather strange food,” Ian said as he finished packing.
“What kind of strange food?” Emily asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if we ate an iguana every now and then.”
“You mean one of those huge lizards? I wouldn’t eat one of those things even if I was starving!” Emily said, shocked by the thought.
“The
y’re not bad at all. They taste a little fishy, but there are worse things to eat.”
“Worse things? What kind of things?” Wes inquired.
“I had a streak of bad luck and hadn’t been able to shoot any game once. Hadn’t been in the jungle too long, and I was starving to death. One of the tradesmen came along and wanted to know if I was hungry. When I told him yes, he reached down into a little leather bag and offered me what he had.”
“What was it?” Wes asked.
“Live caterpillars.”
Emily shuddered and made a face. “You didn’t eat them, did you?”
“No. That was a bit too much for me. Oh, I thanked him and told him I wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t the truth, but you can’t hurt these people’s feelings. I’d better make that clear right now, Emily, and you too, Wes. They’ve got their own ways, and they don’t like changes, so one of the biggest mistakes missionaries make, so I hear, is going in and trying to change everything.”
Emily stared at Ian and then shook her head. “Well, I won’t try to talk them out of eating caterpillars, but I don’t think I could get one down.”
Ian shrugged and said, “One of their favorite foods is monkeys. You’ll have to face up to that. Do you think you can?”
Emily lifted her chin. “I can do whatever I have to do,” she said with determination.
“That’s the way to talk. Well, let’s go in and eat breakfast.”
The three of them went inside, where Adriano and Sarita joined them. Sarita had said little, Emily noticed, but her eyes went often to Ian Marlowe.
“This is good. What is it, Sarita?” Wes asked.
“That’s turtle eggs.”
“Not bad at all.”
Sarita smiled at him. “My favorite is fish eggs, but they’re hard to find.”
“That’s caviar,” Emily remarked. “You wouldn’t expect caviar here. I always think of that being in Russia or somewhere.”
The rest of the meal consisted of fish, which was a staple of the Reys’ diet. Emily suspected they would be eating plenty of fish during their expedition.
The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25) Page 20
