by Rick Kueber
“Rapidos! Rapidos!” One of the eldest boys called out as we sped along at a pace quicker than the little feet could carry the tiny, tan kids.
They all climbed on top of a large boulder and giggled, laughed and yelled out “Adios!” as they waved good-bye.
“Can you get us to the bank?” Daniel asked. “There has to be adults close, right?”
“Right.” was all I said, still in shock at the sudden presence of the little ones.
I took my long stick and pushed it into the fast moving water, making a futile attempt to push us to the river’s edge. The raft spun in a half circle and we found ourselves flying downstream faster and faster...backwards.
“Oh CRAP!” Daniel screamed out.
I glanced over my shoulder and immediately did a double take. The river’s edge was becoming rockier and narrower, in a short distance. The growl of the water pounding over rocks and boulders warned me of the impending and inevitable future. I stuck the stick into the water one more time to turn us around before the churning water took us.
“WHITE WATER!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and a flash of memory taunted me. The children were calling out ‘Rapidos’. They were trying to warn us of the upcoming rapids. “Hang on!” I called out to Daniel over the growling rage of the angry river. The water dropped several feet over no more than thirty yards. Our raft had no oars or paddles and we found ourselves at the will of the merciless river as we bounced up and down, over the shallows and slammed hard into random boulders and stones of enormous size. The flowing waters propelled us forward and smashed our raft directly into the point of a massive slab of sandstone that split the river. The tiny watercraft stood on end before falling back into the river. I grabbed onto the ropes and wedged my feet under one of the thwarts. Daniel was not so fortunate. I tried and failed to grab him as he cartwheeled past me and splashed into the tumultuous waters. I watched his flailing hands, sticking above the water’s surface as he slipped around the boulder to the left, while the raft and I skirted to the right.
“Daniel!” I screamed at the top of my lungs but I could hear no answer.
The water was several inches deep in the bottom of the raft but it was now leveling out and the river widened and slowed in a large pool before carrying on farther. I searched the water and found Daniel bobbing up and down just ahead of me. I grabbed my stick and reached out to him. With white knuckles, he clutched the dead branch as if his life depended on it. It took some effort, but between the two of us, we managed to get him back into the raft and I used the long branch to guide us to the bank. As soon as the stick alerted me to the shallowness of the river, I hopped out, grabbed the raft by its ropes and Daniel joined me. We stepped out of the river, thankful we hadn’t drowned and drug the blue inflatable onto shore. A good fifteen feet from the water, we finally dropped the ropes and sat down on the bare earth.
“Didn’t see that coming.” Daniel shook his head side to side like a dog just out of his bath, spattering water everywhere.
“Me either, but hey...we made it. That’ll make a good story to tell, huh?” I asked, feeling glad that he was okay.
“I guess... Who’re we gonna tell?” His words left me speechless and I could only shrug my shoulders.
Compared to what we had been through, I suppose surviving a short run of white water really wasn’t any big deal. Who would we tell? I knew who I was thinking of, but the cold truth was that it was unlikely we would ever see Elle again, or anyone from the Triple-C tribe at the cancer center. My heart ached thinking that the odds were astronomically stacked against us and the priceless smile of little Maddie would have to be something I had only in my memory. At such a young age, Daniel was wise enough to realize this, even though I was mostly in denial.
Chapter 3
Tastes Like Chicken
“Quien eres?” An angry man’s voice caught us off guard. I turned slowly and lifted my hands slightly to show I had no animosity towards him. “Que deseas?” He stood at the top of a hill that acted as a levee during times of high water.
“Americans.” I had no idea what he was saying, but my only response was to tell him who we were and maybe he would understand we only spoke English. “We’re Americans. No hablo espanol...” I tried my best to communicate.
“Food?” Daniel put his hand to his mouth in the international symbol for eating.
“Ven...” The man’s voice was calm and he even smiled as he motioned us to ‘come’.
We stood up and climbed the sandy bank to meet him at the top. He pointed down a narrow dirt path through the thick wilderness. When we were face to face with the man, he shouted a string of words that, again, I did not know, but I did understand when he pointed to my holstered 9mm.
“Take it, if you want. We mean no harm” I figured he couldn’t understand me either, but I kept my voice calm, my volume low and my hands raised.
“Esta antes!” He shook his head and waved for us to go ahead of him on the path.
We did as best as we could understand. Daniel and I wearily trudged down the slim split in the vast greenery. The man followed a dozen or so steps behind us and I could hear him mumbling to himself in his foreign language. After a hundred yards the well-worn trail turned sharply right. Movement and giggles caught my attention from ahead. Hidden just off the edge of the path ahead were several of the children, masked in wide, dark green, tropical leaves of countless shapes that sprouted from low growing plants. The laughter grew louder and we were suddenly pelted.
“That’s star fruit! My mom used to get these...” Daniel dove forward and grabbed up a small, pale green piece of fruit from the ground and shoved it half in his mouth, biting it ferociously. The juice ran down his chin and he attempted to talk with his mouth overly full. His words, ‘man that’s good’ came out sounding like, “Mam ats goob!”
I grinned, wondering if this was how pets feel when they are tossed a treat, and the man behind us also broke into laughter. I thought for a moment that it could have been poisoned, but it occurred to me that this man let me keep my pistol and children were hiding, giggling and lobbing fruit at us. I had a gut feeling that this was nothing to worry about. Keeping my hands in an obviously submissive position, I reached for a piece of the fruit and took a bite...not a massive bite like my young friend, but a good bite. The tangy sweetness filled my mouth and its flesh was soft and juicy. There were blemishes that would have kept this little life giver from being bought at a grocery store, but in our eyes, and mouths, it was manna from heaven.
“Mmmm. That’s delicious.” I knew Daniel was the only one who understood me, but I didn’t say it for anyone but myself. It was an involuntary reflex reaction. I knelt down right where I was and finished the fruit and picked up another off of the ground. The man stepped up behind me, patted me on the shoulder and again said. “Ven.”
Daniel and I took to our feet and still munching on the tasty, flying treats, began to walk the secret path with our new acquaintance. One by one the children popped out of the forest and onto the path and ran ahead of us calling out indistinguishable words and phrases. A sudden turn to the left and the narrow dirt path and the jungle that surrounded it opened up to a grassy field, dotted with small, shack-like houses, people milling about and a barking dog. This little village seemed to be untouched.
“Maria! Pronto!” The man sent one of the boys on a mission and he disappeared into one of the nearby houses. We had only taken a few more steps when the boy emerged holding the hand of a short, thin woman, dressed in an off-white dress, a button down, blue cotton shirt and a straw hat.
“Hola!” The woman waved to us.
“Hola...” I responded out of politeness and motioning to Daniel and I, said, “Americans.” Which was probably obvious by my accent and poorly pronounced greeting. “I’m Tanner and this is Daniel.” I spoke slowly as if that would somehow help translate my words.
“Well, hello there! I’m Mariah, but everyone here seems to think it’s Maria.” She spoke clear
ly and pulled her hat off to let her wavy, strawberry blonde hair fall past her shoulders. “What brings you to Las Mangas?”
“Where?” I stuttered, not recognizing the name.
“Las Mangas...” She repeated. “Honduras. Did you come down the Rio Congrejal? We haven’t had any visitors since last summer.”
“Honduras...South America?” I was astounded.
“Close, but we’re still in Central America, but nearly on the border. In all, Las Mangas has nearly two thousand residents, but our little corner is a little isolated, but we like it that way.” When she spoke the words, I couldn’t imagine seeing two thousand people unaffected by the invasion. “There were a lot of rafters that came by last summer and some even stopped to take photos, but I haven’t seen a soul outside of the villagers in nearly a year. No radio either. What’s going on in the world these days?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding?” Daniel blurted out.
“Where do we begin.” I didn’t know how to tell her what was happening, or even if I should. “Can we get a little to eat and maybe someplace more comfortable to talk? This is going to be a long story.”
“I’m sure the villagers wouldn’t mind sharing some food with you, but they would probably receive you better if you put your weapon someplace out of site while we talk and eat. I have a place right over there. You can put it inside. I promise it’ll be safe.” She was quite cordial and treated us with unprecedented hospitality. “Are those contacts? You both have the same eyes. They’re amazingly realistic, and no offense, but they’re a little creepy. Can you take them out?”
“You said we were near the border and it got me to thinking...” I glanced at Daniel. “With the state of the world, I don’t think there are any borders anymore, not really.”
“Now I’m really intrigued to find out what’s been going on.” She smiled. “No borders? That sounds like a Utopia.”
“Not quite...” Daniel mumbled and rolled his eyes.
We followed Mariah into the shanty that she called her own. It was nothing more than corrugated sheet metal nailed to a 2X4 frame, a dirt floor and very simple furnishings and I expected a pudgy, blonde headed woman to appear at any moment and tell me how many lives I could save for just $0.32 a day. To say they were impoverished would have seemed an incredible understatement. I dropped my gun and holster onto Mariah’s bed and she led us outside to a large open dining area. Several women stoked a fire in the center of the space and turned what looked to be six chickens on a spit. At best guess, there were about forty villagers plus Mariah, Daniel and me. Six chickens between forty-three people didn’t seem like much of a meal, but we weren’t expecting a feast.
Daniel and I could not understand how these people who seemed to have nothing were so content and so welcoming to two strange visitors. I was also baffled at what a beautiful young woman, like Mariah, was doing living in this forsaken village. The answers were simple and pure, much like the hearts and souls of our hosts. They did not want things they had never had or even known about. They were content to survive peacefully with nature. Mother Nature and hard work provided them with all they needed. The seats we were offered weren’t the most comfortable but they were shaded by a thatched roof supported by a dozen crude posts and we were gracious. From our vantage point we could see the native villagers bustling about preparing our dinner and chattering among themselves.
“You care to go first? I think you can tell us your story a lot quicker than we can tell you ours.” I smiled at Mariah and gave her a friendly wink.
“Okay, well... It’s pretty short and you’ll probably think I’m stupid, but well, anyhow... It’s my story.” She nervously tugged at her worn and dirty shirt tails. “About seven years ago, when I was seventeen, my family came down here on a vacation. We toured all over Brazil, Chile, Argentina. We visited the Mayan ruins, Cozumel...” She rubbed her forehead and let out a single sarcastic laugh. “We spent ten times more money on a four week vacation than this entire village has had in its entire existence. Some people in America...average people...earn more in one week than some people around here earn in their entire lives.”
“Wow...” Daniel said slowly, thinking about how materialistic his childhood would have seemed to one of these happy kids.
“Sorry... Off track. Lost my train of thought.” She looked to the sky.
“You can catch the next one.” I grinned, hoping she would get my pun.
“All aboard.” She did get it. “Anyhow, one of our last excursions was a white water rafting trip down the river, there. My dad, he fell out of the raft and slammed into a bolder. Broke his arm, hit his head really hard, nearly drowned... Some of the villagers pulled him from the water and took care of him...fed us, splinted his arm, gave him some herbal drink and put an all natural compress on the goose-egg on his head. The next morning, he was fine. Well, his arm was still broken, but he felt fine and wasn’t in pain. We finished the rest of the rafting trip, porting around the major rapids. Ever since then I wanted to come back here and live with them for a while...a month or two. At home I have more money in a trust fund than I’ll ever spend, but here, that doesn’t even matter. Here I am no better and no more or no less value than any other. So my two months is going on a year and a half... I might go home in a few more months, or I might never go home. I haven’t decided. That’s about it. That’s my story. Poor little rich girl, gives it all up to live in the jungle with the natives and the monkeys.”
“I knew those were monkeys I heard last night!” Daniel boasted to himself.
“Yes, they get a little noisy at night.” Mariah gave Daniel a warm smile and then turned her eyes to me. “Guess it’s your turn. What’s your story?”
“This’ll be good...” Daniel muttered under his breath, knowing how unbelievable our tale would be. The small group of villagers gathered around us and began passing around crude pottery plates. Much to my surprise, the plates were piled high with cooked vegetables, chicken and some type of fire cooked flat-bread. As I spoke, Mariah would roughly translate my story to the indigenous tribe, though they probably had no word for robot or many of the other things I spoke of. I wondered if any of them thought it was a true story, or if they all just thought I was telling them a made up tale to entertain them.
“It all started about a year ago. I found myself half naked in a desert with a strange case of amnesia...” And so, I began...
At first Mariah smiled, thinking I was telling a ‘whopper’ and at some point her smile drooped and her mouth opened. Before I had finished, her mouth hung open wide and I think she could have been drooling and not even noticed. There were moments that her eyes teared up and moments when she couldn’t help but laugh, but by the end, the sun had set and my story was finished by campfire light, and I think she believed most of our epic tale.
I talked of aliens and gigantic robotic, primate spacecraft and people being turned into alien-zombie slaves or hybrid ‘humaliens’ and her first remark was, “So, those aren’t contacts?” I nearly laughed out loud and Daniel actually did.
“No, not contacts.” I replied solemnly, validating the entire story with one small truth.
“And Maddie and the cancer patients...” She queried.
“All true.” I nodded calmly.
“Miguel!” She called one of the men over. “Ayuda Diego.” She said to him and then whispered a string of quiet words in his ear.
The man’s eyes grew wide and he stared at me. I didn’t know what to do, but I was growing uncomfortable so I smiled and nodded to him as well. He placed his hands together as if in prayer and as he bowed, he raised them to his forehead, repeating the action as he backed away slowly and then turned and disappeared into the night.
“What’s going on?” I leaned in and asked Mariah.
“Miguel’s son Diego is very ill. We fear he is dying. I told him you might be able to help.” She blushed a bit and lowered her eyes. “I hope I have not done the wrong thing by giving him hope.”
“
I’m not sure. I can’t make any promises...” I placed my forefinger under her chin and my thumb on the dimple of her chin and raised her face. “I’ll try, but we had antiseptics and syringes. What do we have here?”
“We can make bandages from ripped cotton fabrics and...” She raised one corner of her mouth in embarrassment. “We have knives. They aren’t surgical steel, but they are very sharp.”
Her large, hazel eyes looked deep into mine and then quickly looked away. In that moment I knew that in the vast infinity of our universe nothing was as precious, nothing was as magical and nothing was as powerful as one person, one being, doing a kindness for another who can never repay them... A kindness that is given freely and without thought of self... That was the universal gift of true selflessness.
“Okay.” I agreed quickly. “We should get started. Have someone boil some cloths for washing us and some for bandages. Where’s the boy?”
In what I assume was Spanish, Mariah spoke to several of the villagers hastily, pointing and making gestures and then sent them scurrying away. “This way.” Mariah tugged at my shirt and jumped up, darting off towards one of the shanty houses.
I took to my feet following her closely, with Daniel only a few steps behind us. Rushing onto the make-shift porch, she stopped abruptly at the door and being unable to stop, I rear ended her forcefully. Stumbling forward a half a step, my arms shot out with lightning speed to catch her. Before she could even recover her footing, she spun around and grabbed hold of me tightly.
