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A beautiful oak tree overshadowed most of the background view, making it difficult to catch a keen glimpse of the children running frantically about the schoolyard. Its arms stretched gloriously, and it seemed as if one might reach out and grab you. The golden leaves drifted into autumn breeze, slowly descending to their death.
But the existence of life was reassured when one glanced upon the beautiful young girl sitting upon the huge roots that bulged beneath, twirling through a book of some sort with a smile of thin patience amidst the sounds of administrators directing mischief about. The traffic was slow, and finally you could hear her begin to shout, showing attentiveness as she gathered her things into her backpack. She rose from the old tree eagerly, looking quite splendid in her plaid uniform. The door of a black and affluent luxury car flung open.
“Dad,” cried the beautiful girl as she marched toward the opening.
“How’s my little girl,” uttered the driver softly.
“I’m doing fine, Daddy!”
“How was school?”
“It was OK! We played on the playground and had a Halloween party. I even ate some cupcakes.”
“Well boo, what did you learn today?”
“What did I learn, Daddy? I didn’t learn anything today."
“You didn't learn anything? That’s not why I am paying for this private education, is it?” He looked at his daughter as if she was the culprit. “I think I need to have a talk with someone!” Car horns honked as he pressed the breaks anxiously.
“Shit! Watch where you’re going! These people need to have their driving audited! It’s ridiculous!"
“Daddy, what did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Ahh-hun, Daddy. You said…”
“Hey! I don’t wanna hear it. Daddy said a bad word, and you better not let me catch you saying one.”
A liberal smile rained across her little face and curiosity set in. Hardly much was said the rest of the ride home, each apparently caught up in looking at the
scenery. Just a few blocks from home, the girl saw a boy dressed in a Count Dracula costume who appeared joyful. “Daddy, are we going trick-or-treating tonight?”
“We sure are, and we’re going to collect a lot of goodies.”
“Yeah!” The car thumped a bit as it ascended the raised driveway, and they were home at last. He couldn’t quite park in the four-car garage because it was already full. There was also a huge boat parked in the driveway. They jumped out and the girl sprinted toward the gorgeous oak doors. She was in a hurry to greet her mother, but her dad followed only by casual advancements, and his mind seemed to be drifting.
“Mommy, Mommy!”
“Hello, my little sugar pie. How was school?”
“It was fine. Daddy said we’re going trick-or-treating.”
“Yes, and we’re going to get a lot of candy.”
“Oh yeah.”
“OK Pookey, go get out of your school clothes and put on some play clothes.”
“We’re going outside!” cried the little one.
“No, you are going to clean your room, or no trick-or-treating…. Well, hello handsome!” she said as her husband entered the house. “How was your day?”
“It was OK, I might say, and yours?”
“I just ran a few errands, got a trick-or-treat costume for our angel — and some champagne for tonight after our beautiful girl is tucked away.”
“Hmmm,” he said with a grim but sensual smile. The two kissed and hugged each other because everything between them was great. They were rich, fairly young, and had a beautiful daughter. He treated her with love and respect, and she treated him likewise.
“Mom! Dad! What will I wear?”
Parting abruptly from their lustful embrace, her mom replied, “I brought you a Sleeping Beauty costume.”
“Ooohh! Mom, can I put it on! Please! Please!”
“Not yet dear, it’s not quite time for trick-or-treat, and besides, we would eat dinner first.”
“Can I just look at it, then?”
“OK. It’s in the bag on the bedroom floor next to my desk.” The little one darted upstairs as her parents continued where they had left off with the mush. Several smacks repeated each other until she declared breathlessly, “I’d better get dinner ready!” However, the kisses continued as she pried herself loose from the grasping arms of her husband. “You wanna eat, don’t ya?” she said with humorous sarcasm. He finally gave into the demands and allowed her to slowly slip away, but he pretended that she was sneaking away and tried vainly not to let her. He blew her one last kiss and then proceeded to his den to take care of some business while she prepared dinner.
As she finished putting the final touches on dinner, the sunset began its display in the western sky and she proceeded upstairs. “Dainisa, did you finish your room? Honey, dinner’s about ready.” There was no response, so she peeked through the door and noticed that the room was half clean. What can you expect from a six-year-old, she thought. She stepped down the hall to the master bedroom to find her daughter engulfed in her Halloween costume. It was obvious that she had even tried it on. “Hey, Princess! What are you doing!?”
Her mom’s comments startled the little girl, and the look crossed her face that said she knew that her mom expected the mischief. The clothes were wrinkled in a way that told on her. “I know you didn’t put that outfit on.”
“No Mommy. I was just looking at it.”
“Go downstairs and sit at the table” her mother said in a voice that meant business as she pointed her finger to give direction. The little one scattered downstairs to sit at her normal spot at the dinner table. “Rich,” she then said as she proceeded down hall toward a narrower door about 30 feet away. She reached the door and placed her hand on the knob, pushed the door open just enough to get her head through the doorway, and peaked
around the corner. The dim room was illuminated by only a single lamp connected to a massive cherry oak desk. “Rich, are you in here?” She sent her soft cry into the room where he usually worked on his writing, and where he went to have a little peace to himself. “Rich,” she once again uttered in her tenderest voice. Then she half-shouted, “Hey!” With a sudden jolt he had his hands around her waist. She nearly jumped into the room, startled more than she could ever remember. “Stop that,” she said with a sudden sigh of relief.
He began to hug and kissed her passionately, while rubbing his crotch up against her very thin nightgown. She could feel his print rub against her and it felt as if his lifegiving muscle pulsated with pleasure. She then suddenly snapped out of it, firmly stating, “Go eat,” with her look of business, but deep beneath she was holding the rages of nature within. The longer he remained in her presence the more difficult it was to avoid succumbing to fleshful urges of love and lust.
Finally, they were all at the table, and the young girl’s mother sat down after fixing everyone hearty plates. “Mom, what took you so long?” she asked innocently.
“I had to go find Daddy, Dear.”
“Where were you, Daddy”
“I was making you a surprise.”
“For real?”
“Yes Boo, but it’s a surprise. I can’t tell you, at least not until later.” Mrs. Dickenson sat with a puzzled look, while Daddy’s little girl had her way. “Oh Darling, this roast is delicious. You must have taken your time on this one.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“Yeah, Mommy. It’s good.”
“Well, thank you, Sweetie. Make sure you eat all of those green peas too, not just your meat.” The little girl began gobbling up all her food, but besides that, there was an eerie silence looming in the air.
Richard broke the silence with the loud clatter his fork made from being rigidly placed upon fine china. “I have a meeting with the board tomorrow.”
“What is the purpose of this meeting, Dear?”
“Well, it’s to get funding for this project.” “Oh my, aren’t we secretive! What
project?”
“To build a shipyard in South America. I also want to build the resort on other portions of South America.”
“What? Have you found your Latin women now, hmmm?” Susan was trying to sound like she was joking, but there was hint of distrust in her voice. Her voice now betrayed her doubts completely as she said, “I don’t know, Dear. That seems like an awful lot.”
“Look! I just wanted your support, and you’re being negative.”
“I am not being negative, and you have always had my support. I just want to make sure nothing happens to you — and the only way I can assure that is to make sure that you are as happy with me \ as possible.”
“I know, but once this is over, we will be set for generations. Everything will be fine, then.”
“Honey, we already have enough. We don’t really need anymore.”
“Look, this is what I do. This is my career. I am a businessman! I capitalize on opportunities, and this one I can not let slip by.”
“Hmmm, you’re also an insensitive man!”
“What!” Richard sucked his teeth hard and continued as if uninterrupted. “I may be out of town for several days, for a potential presentation. Would you like to attend?”
“Sure, Honey. I would love to go. It beats this house.”
“Mommy, I ‘m finished!”
“OK, Dear!” her mother said submissively. “Go wash your hands and face and then go in my room. I’ll be right there.”
“We’re finally going trick-or-treating, huh Mom, huh? Are we?”
“Yes! Now hurry along, Dear.” The girl darted with excitement, nearly stumbling over the stairs because of the eagerness that rose inside her. After dressing her in the splendid Sleeping Beauty costume, her mother began to take pictures, catching some of the brightest smiles imaginable. The man of the house joined them, and they set out for a night in the neighborhood, gathering candies and joy for their little sweet one. All the sounds of night echoed, and grim sounds of trick-or-treat rained from a house in the distance. The little
girl sprinted up to every door, leaving her parents to wait behind at the sidewalk. She was sure to fill her bag as full as possible, for it was in her blood. Is it not her father who’s bred to capture and seize all opportunities, no matter the cost? She even rudely surpassed some of the other children in seeking to fill her bag with goodies. Having no fear, the little one shoved some of the older children to make her space in the front of the group at the door, to seize her opportunity. In spite of her mischief, her parents could not help but let her enjoy herself.
After a few hours, her feet were sore after a long stroll through the neighborhood, and Dainisa had sticky fingers and lips from the many treats she had devoured on the way home. The night was breezy, but not quite cool. A nice fresh fall essence gloomed about the night. Soon there were little lights left on in the streets, and it appeared that trick-ortreating was over. It seemed that they were the last ones on the block still walking through the night. Despite that notion, there was no rush to get home. In fact, this was a romantic setting with joy as the catalyst. Life seemed promising, and indeed it would be for the ideal American family, the family happily chasing the American Dream. They traveled down a long newly paved street that included a beautiful landscape of hedges and trees, all tiered and in front of immaculate brick houses. The family approached a large Emory brick house that outshined all the rest. The beautiful driveway lighting was one reason this house outshone the rest, but the steel gate that was black as raw oil and pointed straight in the air like large spears was another reason this property stood out among its neighbors. The gate was almost too tall for anyone to attempt to climb it. Its stature was indeed intimidating, as was the guard who stood in a booth dead center of the steel gated entrance. Steel designs that curled about like ribbons gave the entrance a true royal feeling.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson.”
“Hello, Hayword,” Rich intoned in voice that seemed lackadaisical. They proceeded through the drive way to the front door, their arms gripped tightly around each other. Mr. Reynolds proceeded to secure the graceful gates and immediately returned to his idle duties. He gazed at the stars as he always did, just to pass the time. This lack of anything to do was something he had to get used to, but the job paid his bills. There should not be many complaints, he told himself, because he made more than the average
American. In fact, you could officially call him a member of the middle class with what the Dickensons paid him. However, he did not picture this quite being the career of his dreams. There had always been a desire to secure a job at one of Mr. Dickenson’s firms, or maybe as a security travel agent that prevented attacks by terrorists. He had to think big, but for now he was content to work for the Dickensons, but his was an inbuilt determination to make the best of his possibilities.
Inside the comforting home, you could hear Mrs. Dickenson declare firmly, “Give me that bag.” With a look of innocence, little Dainisa slowly proceeded towards her mom and handed the bag of goodies over. “You ate enough of this. Now run upstairs and your daddy will be up to read you a bedtime story.” The little girl scampered up to her room with joy because she had stashed several small pieces of candy in her Sleeping Beauty pouch. She accelerated as she neared the top of the stairs to assure that she had time to hide the goods under the pillow and to get out of the outfit before she was discovered, frantically undressing as if she could have cared less if the costume was purchased in the first place. Throwing it into the closet forcefully, she carelessly stuffed a piece of candy in her mouth while approaching the pillow to stash the rest.
She had just reached for the edge of her pillow to slip the goodies to safety when she heard, “Hey. How is my little precious one?” in a deep and gruff voice. Startled, but her composure maintained as she tried to hide open rapper in her palm that hadn’t been discarded yet. She also tried not to make obvious the sucking of a hard clump of sugar and artificial flavorings. She jumped on her bed as nonchalantly as possible.
“What book do you want me to read?” her father asked.
“Auglr gytr!”
“What!?”
“Three Little Monkeys,” she said, the words spoken with a slight gargle.
“Didn’t your mom take that candy from you?”
“This was my last piece, Daddy”
“OK. Let me start.” He read the story as his little girl snuggled down inside her blanket. When he was finished, he said, “Good night,” following a light kiss on the forehead. He looked into her closed eyes, instantly getting a feeling of warmth and appreciation. Rising slowly, he continued to remain locked on the sight of her sleeping
face. Click! The sound of her light switch echoed preceding a Ka-Klumb! as he slowly closed the door. Immediately, she began to slip her hand under her pillow to reach for her stash. As her father walked down the hallway, he could hear the sound of rain pounding on a surface, but it was not so. It was his sweetheart showering, and his mind jumped to the possibility that she was freshening up for him, so that he might have his trick-or-treat. With a slight blush at his own carnal thoughts, he hurried to the room to shed all of his garments except for the silk boxer shorts that she brought for him. Feeling fine, he laid back, his head resting upon a plush pillow in silk pillowcases. His eyes slowly drooped to near sleepiness, until he was awakened by soft and tingling kisses from a wet tongue, not to mention the mildly cool body that pressed against his. Nothing much was said, but sounds of passion, love, and lust filled the room.
CHAPTER ONE A strong glare penetrated through the partially closed blinds and began to invade the crevices of slumberous eyes. The annoying sounds of shrieks from the alarm clock pulsated as he lay flat on his back seemingly unaffected. In fact, he had not even noticed the shrieks until well after his eyes opened and engaged in a soporific stare. The glare became unbearable. He reached for his pulchritudinous one, realizing she must have gotten up early. He smelt the aroma of sizzling pork, and something unidentifiable baking in the oven. Compelled by the scent, he reached over to rid himself of that godforsaken shriek that never did stop pulsating. While heading for the master bathroom for a badly needed shower, he realized his odor from the film that enriched his mouth and the garlic smell that precipitated from the deep forest of his armpits. A bathing was certainly needed. Besides, he had to impress the investors.
This meeting had been on his mind most of the time for the last couple of weeks, and even while making love to his wife the night before. It had taunted his mind with the fear that he would squander the chance of a lifetime. Never before was anyone able to amass this many investors or this amount of capital. Richard could afford to put up some resources to support the venture himself, but for obvious reasons preferred not to. A simple plan to capitalize is what loomed foremost in his brain day in and day out. Richard squinted a little upon entering the hot water. The first limbs he washed were arms, legs, and neck. He washed his crotch thoroughly, including applying an overdose of Pert Plus to his pubic hairs, and combed every strand like a cosmetologist. He thought to himself that his presentation needed to go well. They could not resist a vacation tour of the site, mixed with the hype of a tropical getaway. He had even purchased tickets and reserved rooms for each of the investors. His bulletproof plan included a tour of the construction site and a dinner banquet.  Richard closed his eyes and allowed the hot water to run down his face.Most men showered to wake up.Richard showered to think.The investors believed he was building a shipyard.That was only partially true.A shipyard was merely the beginning.His mind drifted back to the countless maps spread across his office walls.The Amazon.The Xingu.The Tocantins.Hundreds of waterways stretching through South America like veins through a living body.To most people they were rivers.To Richard they were transportation corridors.Trade routes.Opportunities.He imagined barges carrying timber, coffee, minerals, machinery, and manufactured goods deep into regions where traditional infrastructure had never reached.Macapá would become the gateway.The first piece.The foundation.Once established, additional facilities could eventually extend inland.Some regions would require dredging.Others would require canals.Some locations might only require modern docking facilities and transportation depots.The possibilities seemed endless.Richard smiled.Most people thought roads connected civilizations.He believed rivers did.And nowhere on Earth possessed a river system like the Amazon Basin.If the investors could see what he saw, today's meeting would be a formality. “Mr. Neuheisil, you see I have plans to corner the Western hemisphere’s export/import industry by building a state-of-the-art shipyard, but of course we must place it in a strategic location.” He went on rambling while the water became lukewarm.
“You see, the Amazon is easily navigable and has multiple branches that connect to different parts of South America. Using the Amazon along with a few manmade lakes or
canals to connect two key branches of this amazing river, we could reach sixty percent of the continent just by boat passage alone. This will allow the Southeastern tip of Brazil to be properly distributed.”
A voice veered from the crack of the bathroom door. “Hey you and your friend in there, breakfast is ready.” Snapping out of his rehearsal, he turned the water off, completely immune to the fact the water had chilled severely. Richard was running late, so he quickly dried off and dressed himself in a fine suit accompanied with one of the brightest white shirts ever seen. Blazer cuffed in one hand, brief case in the other, he descends the stairs to prepare to scarf down a quick meal.
“Oohh, Mommy! I like the way you cook your eggs — they’re so fluffy. Mom, they look like blubber. There good.” There was a great deal of excitement on the little girl’s face, especially when her father joined them. “Mom! Are eggs good for you?”
“They have their good and bad points.
“Good and bad, Mommy?” cried the little one with a puzzled tone.
“Just eat. Well! Look who’s decided to join us? About time, your eggs are about to get cold.”
“Yeah Daddy, eat your eggs, they’re delicious.”
“OK, Dear!” He took a few bites and then seemed to hurry from his seat, but he was certain to get a kiss from the women he loved. Jetting out of the door, he figured to leave the ladies to their business. He had serious business of his own that needed its own special attention. Jumping in the automobile that allowed him the smoothest departure, without hesitation the car was in reverse and nearly beat the electronic gate open. The sound of fresh rubber screeched from the sudden pressure administered to the throttle, and off he went.
Following a smooth and swift ride, Richard pulled up at a splendid suburban office park embellished in white marble walls and blue stained-glass windows that were extraordinarily large. A huge sign greeted visitors, Dickenson Consulting Inc., preceding a physical address. After parking in his usual reserved space close to the entrance, he jumped out briskly. As he entered the building, his mild mannered receptionist and several others, who casually passed, greeted him immediately.
“Some one needs to fix this elevator, he thought. It’s only five floors, jeeze…”
Ding! One of the elevator doors opened, and he entered with a sense of relief. He did not particularly like elevators. He always complained about this one, which was too slow for him. The door closed after pressing button five — what was routine now seemed dilatory and extremely repugnant. Every thing now seemed to move slowly, especially as the time rapidly approached for the decision for the project. “Ding!” He exited, ardently hooking a sharp left and using long and graceful strides to reach his office in no time. “John, let me see you a minute,” he said toward John’s open office door just before he entered his own.
“Sure, I’ll be right there!” Richard approached his coffee maker to make a cup, creamed down, and sweetened like hot cocoa. This was how he always made it, and he always enjoyed it kicked back in a plush maroon leather seat that resembled an expensive lazy boy.
“Yes, Mr. Dickenson.”
“Are those reports and maps ready for my presentation?”
“Yes sir, it’s all right here. I figured that would be the first thing you would ask for.”
“Good observation, which is why you’re my right-hand man. OK, that is all.” Before John could leave, Richard rose from his chair and walked toward the massive wall map dominating one side of the office.Visitors often assumed it was decoration.It was not.Colored pins covered much of northern Brazil.Blue marker lines followed major waterways.Yellow tags identified survey locations.Red circles marked potential construction sites.John had seen the display countless times.Richard still studied it as if seeing it for the first time."What exactly do you see when you look at that thing?" John finally asked.Richard folded his arms."Most people see rivers."His finger traced a winding blue line."I see movement."Another line."I see trade."Another."I see access."His finger stopped over northern Brazil.Macapá.The city sat near the mouth of one of the most powerful river systems on Earth."The entire future starts there."John nodded politely.He understood the words.He wasn't entirely sure he understood the obsession.Richard remained staring at the map long after John turned to leave.For a brief moment the room became completely silent.The future seemed to hang on those rivers.Rudely excused, John turned, appearing to snub Richard’s comments, and walked off silently. Before John could escape the confines of Richard’s office, he said, “John, please contact me immediately when those investors arrive.”
“Absolutely!” The door shut and John felt as if he had escaped a lion’s den.
“Hello, Suzie! How are you doing today?”
“Fine, What about yourself? You look like you were just chewed out.”
“No, I’m fine.” It’s just that the boss isn’t himself. I need you to get on the phone with that client. I think he’s a little on edge because this project.”
“Of course, I’ll get right on it.” Suzie looked curious, but questioned nothing and continued with her normal duties. The sounds of phones rang, the strokes of keys be struck echoed, and moderate conversations filled the background — the typical office environment. John decided it would be a good idea to hang around the front office to get a first glance at the investors to see if they lived up to their billing. Indeed, his plan worked, and he greeted five men and notified Richard via the receptionist’s phone. After informing his boss of their arrival, he waited there, staring at these men and marveling at
their appearance. In his mind, he thought exuberantly, “Hmm, those sure are some lovely alligator shoes that slender one is wearing. Gee, look at that watch.” It nearly blinded him when the wearer waved his arm casually. The ice that surrounded the face, not to mention the ones that made up the Roman numerals, was the essence of that hypnotic glare. It was almost as if that watch had mystic powers: because of its the beauty and richness, you couldn’t help but want one. He also noticed that the other two men were also quite wealthy, and he could now see why boss was on such edge. This had to be important!
“Ding,” softly sounded from around the corner, preceding sounds of hard bottomed shoes utilized aggressively. “Hello, Gentlemen! So glad you could make it,” Rich said, approaching the men with the keenest posture and the readiness of a news anchor. He greeted the men each in turn, saying, “I appreciate you giving us this opportunity! Mr. Winterlin, Countenance, Neuhesil, Caviling, and Mr. Palanas. Welcome to my base of operations, and I hope that you find your stay here enjoyable. My assistants will show you to our conference room, where you will find refreshments and seating for my presentation. I’ll be there shortly.”
John immediately directed the men down a hallway. “This way gentlemen.” The sounds of their shoes clattering on the marble floors echoed, but this time the sound was not as aggressive. It was more smoothly this time almost in a rhythm. Deep voices vaguely clouded the halls as the gentlemen conversed on various topics. “Here we are gentlemen.” John said, pointing rigorously while panting quietly. “You may sit wherever you feel most comfortable.” John exited quickly, knowing that one wrong look from one of those guys could mean his job. The men wasted no time devouring the donuts and bagels, and each one was invited to make themselves some coffee tailored to their specifications. Each investor sat in a seat and looked as if there was no room for small talk. Richard Dickenson entered the room.
“Good afternoon gentlemen,” he said boldly while closing the door behind him. “The reason I have gathered you here today, as you know, is to offer you the opportunity to embark on a project that will allow us to strategically dominate a whole hemisphere.”
Mr. Countenance curled up in his seat with a look of intrigue. The other men continued to listen. Richard held a large detailed map of South America’s geological make up, especially the rivers and forests of Brazilian, which was, in fact, strategically
chosen. “You see gentlemen! This is the mouth of the Amazon. As you pass these islands, the river splits in two.”
“Em hum. Yes, I see, uttered Dick, along with similar acknowledgements from the others. “Go ahead, Mr. Dickenson. I think I know where you’re going with this.” All of these men dabbled in the shipping business, distribution, or export/import of some sort. They were all on the same page. Richard dimmed the lights slightly and advanced to another projection slide.The image displayed a broader view of South America.Several waterways illuminated across the screen.The investors leaned forward."This project is bigger than a shipyard," Richard said calmly."It is a transportation network."The room remained silent.Richard continued."For generations, governments have spent fortunes building roads and rail systems into difficult terrain."A map of the Amazon Basin appeared."We already possess the largest transportation system in South America."Mr. Caviling frowned."I don't follow."Richard smiled."Nature already built it."His hand swept across the screen."The Amazon and its tributaries reach farther than most transportation planners realize."Several investors exchanged glances.Now they were paying attention."If we establish strategic access points, support facilities, transportation depots, and eventually inland expansion routes, we gain access to markets that many competitors overlook."Mr. Countenance slowly nodded.Richard could see the realization beginning to spread.The investors had arrived expecting a dock.What they were hearing sounded far larger.Only then did Richard advance to the next slide and continue with his original presentation.Richard continued! “We will build a huge shipyard! Right here where the river splits in two. I mean a huge state of the art facility. I want service yard, trucking depots etc. — I want the whole nine yards.”
Mr. Caviling began scuffing his chin replying, “And how might this allow the kind of dominance you speak off?”
“Oh! Simple! You see the Amazon River is very navigable. It has multiple branches that connect to different parts of South America, as you see here. You can reach most of the continent by boat alone. Bu utilizing a few manmade lakes or canals, depending on recommendations from contractors, we could centralize the Americas. Look!” Pointing forcefully at the map, he by now had his projection screen out and many other maps displayed. His pointer moved briskly, as did his lips for the proceeding comments. “You see, right here at Cuiaba’, if we deploy a manmade canal here, or even hydro damn it, and again about one hundred miles Northeast, we can connect two key integrals, and with trucking depots, we can supply the entire southern tip of Brazil. The territories of Minas Gerais, Sao Paulo, and also over here, Moto Grosso, are some of the countless other places that will be under our shipping control. And we won’t have to worry about the northern part of Brazil and into Peru, Bolivia, and Columbia, as you can see.”
Richard began to point even more fiercely, taking his excitement completely out on the projection screen. “The rivers many branches extend over the territory we need. Think of the coffee from Columbia or sugar from Northern Brazil. With respect to South America, we can ship externally and internally.” He was now pointing again. “Boa Vista, Manaus, Rio Branco, and Porta Velho, all have their own ports. So then! We can be their source and conduit to the North and East portions of the globe.”
“Excuse me,” uttered Mr. Caviling. “It appears to me that the Southern tip
wouldn’t get adequate coverage. As you see! As you like to say, the rivers don’t reach that far. See!” The man was pointing even more aggressively than Richard had been, and it was definitely noticeable. “Those cities on the coast, right there.” He pointed at the area in question continuously and waited for a response.
“Yes sir, good observation! As you know, there are always pros and cons to any endeavor, but that is why we concentrate our truck depots at these two manmade canal sights.” Richard was pointing now as if it had became a competition. “Due to the dense population in Southern Brazil, there are sufficient roads to make it easy to create a reliable transport system to and from these two spots. Cuiaba is the future sight of shipyard two, but for now, we will have just trucking stops at the end of each of these four rivers. Branching our distribution outwards, besides a factory, shipyard, or even a trucking depot, would be inexpensive due to the cheap labor. If really necessary, we could use this route.” He is now pointing at the project site and dragging his pointer towards the mouth of the Amazon with a graceful passion. He followed along the shores of Brazil until reaching the city of Pelutas. “You see, the land is purchased already. All we’re waiting on is to begin the construction process.”
George sat back with a look of eagerness, while Neuheisil asked the rest what they thought so far. Tony Palanas remained silent the whole time, assimilating information exponentially. Mr. Caviling blurted, “Isn’t this in the middle of a forest.”
Dick interrupted him anxiously. “Yes, and not your typical forest. In fact, a thick rainforest.”
In a combative tone, Richard exclaimed, “Gentlemen! We are losing sight of the big picture, which is big enterprise, and of course this will be a task in the amount of deforestation required, but with our cooperative effort, it will not be as painful as if only one or a few of us were to take on this project. If necessary, however, I will forge ahead myself, a lone soldier. But I warn you, companies are lined waiting to cut down that blasted jungle, to make something civilized.” The investors were pretty much sold, but at this point, he wanted to take it an extra step. He wanted to be assured that there would be no back outs. “Gentlemen, I invite you to have a living experience of what I have in store for this project. We will also enjoy some celebration festivities. He pulled his brief case out and reached for an envelope. Handing them all airline tickets to his private jet, which
was parked at a reserved spot at the international airport. In addition to hotel accommodations, the gentlemen accepted with intrigue showing on their faces.
Dick blurted out, “I could use a little rest and leisure.” Richard said his goodbyes to the men as they departed, and then he returned to his office to enjoy the moment. While flopping back in his plush seats, a grin of enthusiasm covered his face as checked his messages. They included unimportant ones that could be disregarded. His relaxed mode would have to impress the investors even better during their vacation. He reached for the phone and pressed one button.
“Yes!”
“John,” shouted Richard. “Come to my office please.” Richard waited while using crumbled pieces of paper as tools to improve his jump shot. John peeked around his door and before he entered completely, Richard declared, “I will be leaving soon. Make sure those reports are finalized. Has Judy secured Data Inc.?”
“No sir, not yet.”
“Hey, just because this project is about to change everything doesn’t mean we get complacent. We are still who we are.”
“Consider it done, sir!” As John closed the door, Richard Dickenson followed right behind, eager to get home to his wife after a long and eventful day. Arriving home with excitement, he entered, finding his family’s feelings were mutual. It was not because they had a good day at the office, but because the man of the house was home.
“Daddy,” shouted the little one. That was followed by warm greetings from his wife. He accepted the welcomes like a king, for there was a sense of the untouchable and cockiness in his demeanor. He wasted no time in telling her of the vacation in a smooth and enthusiastic manner. “Pack your things, Dear. We’re going to South America.”
“What? On such short notice?”
“I told you.”
“Yeah, this morning. I didn’t know it would be so soon.”
“I’ve invited the investors for a vacation.”
“What? Just out of the blue — let’s go on a vacation?”
“I’ve pretty much got them convinced. I just want them to get a feel, and then
there will be no second thoughts later.”
“OK ay!” With the slightest hesitation and a smile upon her face, she proceeded to say, “What about Boo, and when, where, and how long?”
“Well Dear, we’re going to Macapa, to allow us to get that feel like I talked about. There’s going to be a dinner party, but most of the time will be spent in the hotel with me.”
She got close to him and uttered, “That’s sounding a little better.”
“At least the first day. You see, originally I had planned a three-day trip, but there is nothing spectacular about Macapa. Most of the time will be spent in the hotel.”
“Great Sweetie, when do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Well, I’ll go get my things ready and make arrangements for our baby.”
Chapter two Meanwhile, somewhere at a prestigious University, Professor Julian Akbar was doing what he loved best. That was of course the study of ancient cultures and indigenous tribes. He was just about to call a recess in one of his advanced history classes, when suddenly a student blurted, “What do you suppose the reason was? I mean, do you know why they were left behind?”
“Well Amy! Civilizations usually sprout where the environment is beneficial, and I suspect that some of these people were isolated from these areas of civilization growth.”
“How, then, did they survive?”
“Remember, some of these ancient people knew nature better than we do today.”
“Dr. Akbar, how could that be true? When they believed their gods were the elements and vice versa.”
“Well let me ask you! Who is your god?” There was silence from the student and Julian continued. “Some of those stories were passed down for centuries and were believed to be true.”
“You don’t believe so, do you?”
“What I believe is irrelevant.” He began to read the homework assignment, effectively cutting the conversation short. “OK class, I’ll see you next week, and don’t forget your essays on the Mayans. Class adjourned!” The students raced through the door like the gates of the Kentucky derby had been opened. Each student represented a prize thoroughbred galloping frantically. This was an understatement because obviously this metaphorical race was really happening, except for the professor, and from where he stood, he anticipated the impending emptiness of the classroom.
The silence filled the room thereafter, and a sense of loneliness loomed. It was a perfect setting for the professor, because that he was. His wife had left him not long before, and so had the student with whom he had an affair. She just played the role for improved grades. It wasn’t secret information, but the professor disregarded her ulterior motives. He had no one, nothing, nothing but his knowledge. His knowledge of people, people who did not even exist anymore, was vast. What use is a language that no one
uses anymore? Obsessed with this edifying endeavor, however, he ran his only true love away, and he had killed all chances of interest coming from any other. So he stood there, alone in his room of instruction reading his book. He seemed to always read sitting at his desk from which he gave award-winning lectures, fitted in a tight short sleeve dress shirt and solid colored clip on. It appeared he had no regard for fashion.
Suddenly, gathering his things in an instant, he made for the door. It seemed someone had activated him with a push of a button and abruptly commanded him to exit the room. Arriving home, he threw his briefcase full of books and research papers on top of all the mess that had already accumulated. He flopped himself on the leather sofa and reached for the remote. Before pressing the on button, he again resorted to his own remote control instincts and darted for the refrigerator. Grabbing a beer, he chugged half of it before returning to his chair. He belches after sitting and presses the power button.
“And the Nation….” “Johnny, you know I love you”… “He backs him down, and the shot”… “Giving”… He continued to scan the many different channels with an apparent confusion as to what to watch. Hearing his kitten at the door, he jumped up to let it in, the channel inadvertently remaining on some news program. He walked to the door to greet his cat while the television continued to pulsate. “Scientists have discovered the ozone’s rapid deterioration, and that it may be linked to global warming. We have Dr. Shaynick, the professor for meteorological and geological studies at the University of Berkley.
“Thank you! The problem we have is not the human release of toxins into the atmosphere, but the destroying of the Earth’s natural combatants against those harmful toxins. The many projects that cause deforestation. The fewer trees we have the worse off we will be. We also…”
“Ring, ring, ring!” Pressing mute on the remote control, the professor picked up the phone. “Hey Julian! How have you been? My buddy ol’ pal.”
“Rich, is that you?”
“Well of course it is. Who did you think it was? Mitch! Anyway, I called to tell you of my project.
“What project, Mitch, I mean Rich?
“Yeah, you’re hilarious, but I’m having some investors build a shipyard on the
banks of the Amazon.”
“How ironic,” replied Dr. Akbar. “I just heard a report on this new channel saying…” He paused shortly. “Some program, a news report talked about rainforests and cutting them down or something. Don’t you have to cut down some forestry to accomplish this?”
“Well yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem because we could probably use the lumber anyway.”
“No Rich! I mean who owns the land, and if you own it, how did you acquire it?” Richard responded confidently and sarcastically at once.
“The provinces were persuaded with a little currency and political influence.”
“Well, you always knew how to get your way, even though you dropped out of college.”
“Hey man, I wasn’t interested in people in the past, or people who still live in the past. Hell, this is modern times now — capitalization for civilization is my motto.”
“You sure seem to know what you want. Hey, good luck. If you need me, just call me.” After terminating the call with the professor, he felt a sudden sleepy urge. Realizing he wanted to call Joe Geshy, his friend for many years, however, he propped himself up. Their wives were friends due to their relationship, and it seemed somewhat forced, but they willingly accepted their husbands’ comradeship. The phone rang several times more than he usually allowed, but the sleepiness caused laziness and he neglected to hang-up. The phone did answer after about twelve rings.
“Hello!” responded Joe with a deep and exhausted voice.
“Joe!” Richard shouted as he was awakened out of his near sleep with that deep and raucous voice.
“Yes, this is Joe! Who is this? Is this Rich?”
“What, people don’t know my voice now a days?”
“Shit, I was sleep, and it’s not as if you call here frequently anyway. My best friend calls every blue moon.”
“You know that I am very busy, besides I have a new project that I’m working on. That is why I called you. To spend a little time with my buddy.”
“Oh yeah! What, you need my help?”
“Ah…no.” The words dragged out slowly. “I just called to invite you to this vacation in Macapa”
“Macapa,” replied Joe with the most confused voice. “What the hell, or should I say, where the hell is that?”
“It’s in South America, where I’m starting this big new project. What is Mrs. Geshy doing the next couple of days?”
“She’ll be out of town for a few. She’s visiting my in-laws.”
“Good! It shouldn’t be a problem then if you give me a little company, especially while entertaining those dull-ass investors.”
“Who?” Joe exclaimed.
“The investors!”
“Oh, sounds like this trip is very important. I guess I’ll go, but in fact, I’m surprised you’d invite me to such a thing. I suspect you already have my ticket.”
“I sure do. Therefore, you have to go. We are flying in one of my private jets.” Joe asked for the details of his invitation. Richard advised him of all details and that he would pick him up from the airport just before show-and-tell.
Just before the two terminated the call Joe shouted, “Hey Richard! I just remembered I can’t leave at ten like you planned. I would have to leave in the afternoon.”
“Oh well, no problem! I’ll just have a separate flight available for you. Hey, your fate is to come with me. You may soon work for me and make a lot more than what you borrow.”
“Great!” They both exclaimed in turn. Sitting back like a large couch potato having one too many beers, Richard drifted quickly asleep. His thoughts of all he planned to attain ran through is sleeping mind, and he had a glorious rest, even though he had a crook in his neck. He twisted his neck slowly and aggressively, hoping to hear it crack, but to no avail! “Dear!” he shouted as his fingers scooped the cold build up from his eyelids. Truly an intolerable sight, but his wife had to deal with it for years, and had learned to love him.
All things were settled, and they arrived at the boarding gate to meet the
gentlemen being entertained. “Hello, Mr. Neuheisil,” Rich said with a tone of joy in his voice. “This is my wife.”
Each man said, “I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dickenson,” in turn. Richard greeted them all individually and honorably. “I hope you enjoy the flight, gentlemen, and of course my presentation and entertainment.” He began to direct his wife and the gentlemen towards the entrance gates. They were all engaged in their own individual conversation and paid no attention to the intercom, but automatically preceded towards the gates to board the plane when the flight was announced. The entrance ramp was a nippy 62 degrees, but everyone was prepared with their healthy blazers. Rich’s wife sported a thick pearl white cotton turtleneck by Ralph Lauren and a blinding diamond necklace that illuminated her garments and appeared to have a connection with the matching bracelet and watch. Richard’s wife decided to sit in the seat closest to the aisle because she had a thing about planes, especially looking out of the window while ascending miles above, which made her more deathly afraid than simply nervous. Reaching over from the window seat and kissing her valiantly, Rich assured her silently that all would be fine. She smiled, but before she could even savor the moment, the captain was explaining the flight destination and giving a firm statement to fasten their seatbelts until they were informed otherwise.
She could feel the massive plane swing around to approach its necessary runway. It then darted the lengthy runway at twice the speed of a well tuned car, streaking the length of many football fields before taking a forty-five degree jolt upward. With its extremely large wingspan, the air allowed Bernoulli’s law to take effect. Richard watched the airport get tiny and the cars resembled matchboxes. Suddenly they even became too small to distinguish, and all you could see were the faded roads and dots protruding along them. Richard continued to gaze through the window, noticing that all manmade things had vanished below and all that was left to see were the tops of trees. These trees were thick and appeared as though that was all the earth was made of, and it seemed nothing could penetrate them. The plane was continuing its ascension; therefore, the trees too fell victim to invisibility. Somehow, the clouds did not appear to gather Richards’s attention as much, leading him to blurt, “Hey, is there any service!?”
His wife responded softly, “If you would look on your own plane, you would see
the button for service right here.”
With a pale look, he pressed the button only to smile gingerly afterwards. “Oh I didn’t see that.
“Hello, what can I get you?”
“Well, what do you have? I don’t see any menus lying around.”
“All we have is beverages and snack items.”
“What kind of drinks and snacks do you have?” These words were spoken harshly, and it was obvious that the flight attendant struggled not to become obviously disgruntled.
Mrs. Dickenson said, “Please excuse him. He’s just…” But Richard interrupted. “Oh No! Don’t you excuse me. Just get me a Coke and what, ahh… roasted peanuts, and what else, maybe some crackers and cheese. Just get me a variety of your little snacks.”
The way the flight attendant walked off indicated what she was thinking: what a rude, obnoxious, and egotistical pig. She returned with a basketful of an assortment of nuts, crackers, and cheeses. It even included smoked beef that resembled jerky, along with a crisp glass of ice and cold canned Coca Cola. Mrs. Dickenson was fine, but Mr. proceeded to devour the insufficient nutrients. The remaining plane ride was smooth, including the landing. Afterwards, they were all escorted to their hotel rooms. The evening air felt different than Richard expected.Warm.Heavy.Alive.The group proceeded through the hotel entrance while attendants carried luggage toward the elevators. Several investors admired the tropical scenery visible beyond the lobby windows.Richard remained near the entrance for a moment, breathing in the humid air.A local employee stood nearby unloading supplies from a small truck.The older man paused briefly and looked toward Richard."You are here for the forest?" he asked.Richard smiled proudly."In a manner of speaking."The man nodded slowly."My grandfather used to tell stories about the forest."Richard chuckled politely."I imagine everyone around here has stories."The old man did not smile."Some stories are meant to be warnings."Richard looked at him curiously."What kind of warning?"The man glanced toward the dark horizon beyond the city lights.Then he shrugged."The forest keeps what belongs to it."For several seconds neither man spoke.Finally Richard laughed softly."Well, fortunately for me, we're only borrowing a little piece of it."The old man offered no reply.He simply returned to his work.Richard shook his head and walked toward the hotel elevators.By morning he had almost forgotten the conversation. CHAPTER THREE There was not much to do in this isolated area of South America, except for what was in the rooms and banquet room. The banquet room served mixed drinks and had a live band arranged to play an unexpected Brazilian tune. The sound played by the band was vivid, which gave the atmosphere a truly tropical feeling. The rooms were spacious and actually resembled suites; however, and surprisingly, there were neither phones nor televisions. They were equipped with saunas, and the balconies looked over vast plains. The rooms were definitely far from technology equipped and brought the true meaning of the term “third world” to their occupants.
The men all felt comfortable within their rooms, however, and made use of the opportunity for a much needed rest. They would need it for the upcoming presentation, especially after the long flight.
“Damn, no phones!” Rich whipped out his cellular phone while glancing at his wife briefly. “I guess he’s on his way,” he said after allowing the phone to ring several times unanswered, saying as he hung up, “Dear, I must go and see if the transport boat is ready.”
Mrs. Dickenson gave a look of acceptance and advised her husband to be careful. He nodded and walked out the door. There was still nothing to worry about, he told himself. The helicopters were delivered previously, and a medical boat was ready at the dock. Preparedness was far from the issue, but rather, knowing what he was in for, which made his stomach knot and unknot spasmodically. Deciding to use the boat to transport the investors was on his mind at the moment. He thought it would be more appropriate since it was roomy enough to fit everyone aboard. It would take both helicopters to fit all seven people, and he was the only pilot available. He was anxious to get to the docks to assure that everything was situated before bringing the investors along. It was a very short distance to the docks of the mighty Amazon in the southwestern Macapa region of Brazil! The tropical scenery dominated as he made his way by horse and wagon taxi. Before his eyes sat two beautiful helicopters and a boat in the background floating powerfully, a testament to the preparations made for this project. Many Brazilian people
walked about, and there were more than usual about because they could not help but notice the Americans’ arrival. As Richard inspected the vessel, an elderly dock worker watched from a distance.The old man eventually approached."You travel far into the forest?" he asked.Richard nodded."Business."The old man looked toward the river."The river remembers."Richard smiled politely."I'm sure it does."The old man shook his head."You joke now. Everyone does."Before Richard could respond, the man simply walked away.Richard shrugged and continued his inspection.Richard walked the docks to his boat, and some of the strangers even stared. What exactly went through the gazers’ minds was unclear, but their expressions revealed curiosity and admiration. Unaffected by the watchers, he entered the boat and immediately inspected all of the instruments. Boating and navigation was one of his hobbies, so this went smoothly. Richard gazed upon the instruments and then out the window at the scenery, squinting his eyes against the sun.
His emotions were high because things were going superbly, and his mood, in combination with the familiar scenery, ignited reminiscence: “Honey, I’m going fishing!”
“OK dear.” Richard gathered his favorite pole and in the other hand carried an expensive tackle box very firmly. It was no time before he was out the gates in his sports utility vehicle. The tires performed their normal screams when leaving with Richard at the helm. More screams, but opposite in pitch hollered when he decided to make a stop at Owens bait and tackle shop. There were bells that jingled upon opening the door to the shop as he was met by cold still air, which chilled his sweating skin from the hot and muggy morning that it was. That cool down was welcomed with unapparent gratitude because the business of getting fishing utensils was his priority. Richard gazed at various bait and tackle and was obviously unsure what type to use. Scratching his chin and squinting his eyes as if he had a hard time seeing.
A suitably rustic man asked, “What type of fishing will you be doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will you be fresh water fishing or salt?”
“Oh, I see. Well I guess fresh water.”
“Well, what type of fish were you wanting to catch?”
“Any that will bite.”
“Oh, I see,” said the rugged man with a bit of a chuckle. He continued on in his overly drawn voice. “I guess you’ve never been boating a mile off the coast?”
“I’ve been on many cruises!” “Not cruises! Fishing! Have you ever been deep-sea fishing?”
“No, I can’t say that I have!”
“You look like a well off man. You deserve to get the prize, the biggest and best fish you could ever dream of reeling in.” Richard gained interest in the man's comments and allowed himself to be lured into a verbal entanglement. “What’s your name?”
“Richard! Richard Dickenson.”
“Well Mr. Dickenson, I don’t say that fishing is a serious hobby for you. Maybe you hunt and now have decided to expand. Well, let me tell you, fishing is the best experience you could ever have. Drifting the ocean current, searching for a spot to send our chosen traps deep below, hoping something so hungry and desperate for food will chomp at our sharp hooks, snatching up the biggest and baddest creatures of the sea, is the best pastime imaginable. You’re under control then, Mr. Dickenson.”
“Call me Richard.”
“Richard! What, have you not driven a boat before?”
“No! I always had someone to do it for me.”
“Even though you’re well off enough to hire someone, it’s still a good skill to have. You may need it someday.”
“What! So, do you teach boating lessons?”
“Oh no! I’m no teacher, but I’ve been raised around boats since I was an itty-bitty youngen. I became very skillful at it, even could probably navigate you around the world.”
“Probably?” Richard declared with impressions of not wanting to be a guinea pig.
“Oh, I say that because I never actually attempted it.” Richard stood there giving eye-to-eye attention before blurting, “You’re unsure, and so I’m afraid I will make me have to pass.”
“I’m sure I could if I did try. I know the maps of the oceans real well, and I keep up with all current weather conditions. This isn’t about that; it’s about fishing, and I offer you to join me the next time me and a few of my buddies go deep-sea fishing.” Richard had been game, and they exchanged information quickly.
However, the Brazilian sun's strength broke his concentration and that became his final thought as he blurted out, “Oh shit! I forgot! I needed to pick up Joe from the airport.” It was a small private dismal airport, all of the stops by privately owned planes. He rushed himself to the spots where the airplanes could land. Upon arriving at this pint-
size airport with one shaky tower and about four measly runways that were really just roads, it became clear Joe had not yet arrived. Richard looked around and noticed no one was immediately in sight. “Hello, is anyone there?” He screeched over the vast opening the airport allotted.
“Hello, Joe! Is anyone here?” He shouted, walking around to the towers control room entrance. He entered the staircase and glanced upward, and he could not help but indulge in multiple grunts and sighs as he realized that he had a steep climb. He figured someone had to be here. He proceeded with determination. Huffing and panting controllably, but aggressively, he proceeded up the flight of stairs. In no time, he reached the top, not realizing actually how many stairs he had climbed. Opening the door to his left, he entered eagerly, only to notice a letter “U” shaped console and a shiny coated figure sitting dead center. Glancing upwards through the windows, he paid particular attention to the nearly empty runways, then looked at the sky, noticing an eerie emptiness. “Hey, wake up! Wake up!” Pressing the seat with both hands and shaking aggressively, he heard grunts coming from the front of the seat. Richard continued to say, “Hey wake up! Wake up,” now repeating quickly after one another. “Wake up, Wake up!”
The man jumped out of his seat, replying with a phrase of some foreign language.
“Hey, speak English,” said Richard.
“What did you do that for?” replied the man with an unidentifiable accent.
“There was supposed to be a flight due.”
“A flight,” repeated the man, curiously shrugging his shoulders, his expression one of affliction. “No sir, I don’t know of any flight! I don’t know what you are talking about.” His words were spoken with an irritating accent that now seemed amplified.
“Look sir,” Richard then said firmly. “There is a flight due. Look for it and call me.” Richard jotted his number down swiftly and handed the information to the mysterious man, who accepted it with a peculiar look. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, no.” Richard gave a disgusting look and asked, “Where the hell are you from anyway.” There was no verbal response from the man, but a simple waving of the hand and nodding of the head for him seemed to suffice. Richard shook his head in disappointment
and proceeded down the staircase. Eager to get back to the suites to get the investors onboard, he descended the staircase faster than he had ascended. He wondered where Joe was on his way back, but he figured he was just running late. Nevertheless, the presentation had to begin. Joe was just a friend to keep him company, but his tastes contrasted sharply with those of the investors and Richard thought that was a needed element in this discussion. He even found himself wishing he could have waited a little longer, but his reasons for being here had little to do with Joe. Getting back to the suites now seemed to take longer, and his impatience grew. Arriving at his destination not a moment to soon, his patience converted into an eager aggression, maybe even obsession; nevertheless, he remained cool as he gathered all the investors. Everyone had boarded the boat while Richard quietly and swiftly checked all necessary instruments. It would be a more difficult task since Joe was not there. They had been on many navigational missions together. Whether it is fishing or just enjoying a cruise with their loved ones, he would be on his own for this trip, but it did not bother him a bit. His determination to make this a success dominated all other thoughts. Releasing the last ropes that secured the boat, they were soon off. The boat was built well, and had good speed.
Their destination was a particular riverbank 100 miles southeast of Macapa. Richard maximized the velocity of the mid-sized yacht and administered the skills in boating that he had so conveniently inherited indirectly from a bait and tackle shop visit. He could hear the wind drift swiftly from the rear of the boat, and he could also hear snippets of the conversations of intrigue.
“Dick! What do you think?” said one of the investors, standing with both hands gripped upon the boat’s railing and looking puzzled indeed.
He replied saliently, “Think? About what Peter?”
“I mean, here way out in the wilderness! Do you think this is a little extreme, us being out here for a presentation?”
Mr. Neuheisil began to gleam as if he had all the answers, and responded confidently. “Well, you know, I think it’s a good idea. It gives us a chance to see the realities of this so-called, quote-unquote, project! And its true potential! Thus far, it’s proving possible, but I am beginning believe only now, since he has decided to bring us
along here. We should make the best of this, and we need to use this experience to help us decide if it’s even possible, or even profitable for that matter.”
“Yeah right, you know….” The men continued casual conversation amongst themselves while Richard shuttled the yacht to its destination.
“Richard, you got it under control, I see,” exclaimed Jim, who was standing next to Tony Palanas. “Where exactly did you learn to navigate boats?” Richard turned to see the two men watching him like private eyes.
He responded casually and gently. “Boating has actually been a hobby of mine for many, many years. A friend once turned me on to deep-sea fishing, and it was on from there.”
Dick looked at Richard first with a smile that showed he was impressed. He then looked at Jim and Tony simultaneously, grabbing one shoulder of each and speaking on their congress. “Here we are, drifting upon the bayou like Amazonians, really living this endeavor. Some may have thought initially this was extreme, being out here, but I must say Richard, for me it’s truly been a tropical experience. I want to congratulate you on this conception; and I hope that you men see this as an opportunity, to really understand the realities of this idea. The men looked ahead of them, each with their own characteristics. Their eyes lit up as they approached a large gap in the River, sort of like a huge lake, but in actuality, the river now split in two.
This was the spot. Now, Richard thought, if I can only rely on either side of the land directly ahead. He headed the vessel towards the point where the land split the river into a western flow and a southern flow. “OK, gentlemen,” he said, notifying all crew members, “prepare to dock.” Richard guided the boat as close to the edge as possible, but he realized that there was no where to dock the boat. The gentlemen all gathered on the side railings of the boat while Richard spoke loudly. “Unfortunately, I didn’t anticipate not being able to dock the boat and getting our feet dirty, but I see a patch of trees right over there, an opening where we could have landed the choppers. Nevertheless, this is the spot you were shown on the map,” he said, lifting the map to everyone and assuring their visibility was not hindered. He pointed at the map and continued, “Now you see, gentlemen! Can you feel what I’m envisioning here?” He was pointing fiercely and finger tracing the exact dimensions along these multiple branches of the Amazon. Getting
excited, he pronounced, “We can ship coffee from Columbia.” He then traced his fingers along the Amazon eagerly, passing Manaus and moving upward on one of many Amazonian branches until that particular one ended. He now suggested, “We can add a trucking depot here. See right there!” He pointed even more aggressively. “The Orinoca River branches off, and this upward branch is very close to Bogota, Columbia. Now you see this lower branch of the Amazon is just 100 miles or so below. This Amazon branch should be equipped with a loading and unloading dock, while the trucking depot could be placed at this upper branch of the Orinoco.”
Jim interrupted, saying, “You might as well place a loading and unloading facility there, on that Orinoco branch as well. There are all sorts of rivers that the Orinoco is connected to within Columbia, not to mention it exits near Trinidad and Tobago. If I’m not mistaken, that may shorten the route to America.”
Richard looked at him with surprise and replied, “Now you see! You see, you really understand what I’m envisioning here. They also have gold, oil, and emeralds.”
Jim, with an ulterior motive gleaming in his eyes, advised, “I’m quite aware of what Columbia has to offer.” He patted the quiet Tony Palanas on the back and gripped his shoulders, now obviously acting as Tony’s spokesperson. Tony continued to sit back, not saying much, but he was indeed interested. His family had real ties within the drug hierarchy, and Columbia was a known producer of many such products. This massive shipping industry project and future operation would be perfect for trafficking and laundering. Tony’s seeming lack of interest was just a ploy. He was in fact eager to get this project going. That easy access couldn't be passed up. The plan was to smuggle contraband out of Columbia, transfer products in this newly proposed control center, and allow products to leave the eastern shore of South America. In a totally different ship, it would be difficult to for the authorities to discern where the drugs were going. He gleamed inside at this opportunity, only to be interrupted out of his reverie.
Richard spoke loudly. “That’s not all, gentlemen. We may ship sugarcane and rice from Venezuela, as well as wheat, barley, and corn from Peru. Need copper, Peru is the place! Oh, don’t forget about oil in Guaza, newly discovered. Since Bolivia refuses to ante up, or perhaps has no capitol, we can be their source capitol. We can partially own Bolivia. Remember, I told you gentlemen about the depots at Cuiaba. He pointed once
again with an aggression that captured all the men’s attention. “You see this river; it allows us to ship into Paraguay and Uruguay, and finally exiting through Rio de la Plata.”
That final comment Richard uttered gained grunts of approval, and Dick suggested, “I think this allows us access to Argentina as well. What do they have to offer, Mr. Dickenson?”
“Well, that country has Buenos Aires, a large port city that is near Cordoba. They produce automobiles and buses.”
“Hmm!” Dick said, but Richard did not give him a chance to say anything, because he continued to blabber.
“You see men, even though we are unable to walk on the land, I believe you all get the idea of where this project is eventually going to go. First, we must get this contract location established.”
Peter commented, “We don’t know if a project with such a magnitude can even be possible, besides what is the constructability of this land?”
Richard blurted out excitedly, “Sure! That is why I have scheduled a survey crew and a few engineers to come build, well, first and foremost, somewhere to dock this boat. They will be measuring and surveying, or what ever it is they do. Look! I didn’t say this plan was going to be stumble free, but I assure you that the engineers will probably approve this site for said construction. And we will be on our way to establishing a shipping empire.”
Suddenly, Richard’s eyes sharpened as he looked towards land. Just before opening his mouth again, he noticed something appearing to dash across, or through, the forest. He looked puzzled, but he is careful to conceal his expressions immediately with silent gulps of air. He had just about scratched his head, wondering aloud, what was that? However, he really began to think, who was that? It looked like a buck-naked man running, weaving through the thick masses of trees. He was almost certain it was someone, because he had noticed the eyes peeking from around a tree just before the body became a blur. Direct contact, eye-to-eye, seemed to be what happened and is the reason Richard was going crazy. Those eyes seemed to be staring at him just before he, she, or it ran away.
Richard’s reverie was interrupted by Jim. “Is something the matter? It seems as
though you’ve seen a ghost?"
“Oh no! I just thought I saw a deer or something.” Ring! Ring! His phone loudly interrupted the moment. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” He answered his phone briskly. “Yes,” he said, then patiently waited for a response.
“Mr., that flight you spoke of, earlier. It should arrive in two hours or so. They dispatched in — I just received the pilot’s message.”
“OK, great! Richard glanced at his watch, noticing that it was already midafternoon. He then remembered that Joe was originally supposed to be on that later flight
in the first place. Nevertheless, he whipped the boat around and they headed back for Macapa. They all enjoyed the ride back, as the sun’s heat began to subside and made the
ride more bearable. They had several drinks and were quite joyful at the prospects of making so much money on this project, and they did not realize they were nearly to their
destination. Finally, they had all exited the boat and headed for the banquet room to continue to gorge themselves with alcoholic beverages.
CHAPTER FOUR Arriving at the mini-airport, Richard noticed Joe sitting down waiting for him. Richard got off the wagon and approached the building. “Hey, Joe! Joe!” Richard exclaimed.
“Rich! Rich, hey Richard…. Old buddy how you doing.”
“I’m fine, Joe. What about yourself?”
“Just marvelous. I see you got us here way out in the tropics and shit.” Pausing just briefly as they walked away from the building, Joe then blurted hilariously, “Oh shit, we got the horse and wagon! Damn! What the hell is going on? I mean you did say something about a project, but gee! I had no idea.” The two men boarded the carriage and proceeded to the suites. “So what exactly are we doing here anyway?”
“Well Joe, I really called you to help me with the navigating, but your late arrival eliminated that plan.”
“Well excuse me, but what navigating?” He spoke frankly and naively.
“I just took the investors on a cruise to the central construction site”
“Wait a minute, hold up! Investors? Cruise? Navigating? You’re confusing me.”
“Joe! Remember when I called to invite you to the presentation. I need their capital.
“Oh I see. You’re putting your swindle techniques to good use. I still don’t understand the cruise.”
“Damn Joe, be imaginative. The project is about 100 miles southwest from here by boat on the Amazon."
“Boy, you sure can be an adventurer. You started me with that shit a long time ago, talking about deep-sea fishing, and shit. I guess you needed my help on the boat.”
“No! You don’t say.”
“Hey,” Joe said sharply, pausing long enough to assure that he had captured Mr. Dickenson’s attention. “Fuck you, OK! You probably wanted me to do all the work while you ran your mouth to people richer than you. Now that is a sight.”
A grin crossed Rich’s face as the men approached the suites, but that was short
lived because he began to blabber. “Hey, the sun has a few more hours of light. Let’s take the helicopter to the site.”
“What site, man!?”
“Damn Joe! Where the shipyard is to be built.”
“Shipyard! Now I knew you were crazy, but whoa! I didn’t imagine.”
“They say a genius is crazy, and I see you haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been telling you.
“Hold up, Rich. I have been listening. It’s been a long flight and I wouldn’t mind getting one of those tropical drinks in me.”
“Come on Joe, I didn’t get a chance to tour the land.”
“Well, why not,” Joe exclaimed with unacceptable tones.
“We hadn’t had a chance to build a dock, and that prevented us from exiting the boat. I didn’t want to take the small boats with those inexperienced nincompoops.” Joe stood back with a humorous look while listening to Rich. “My plan is to take the choppers, build a dock, and survey the land. Get an engineer to approve construction, and let my investors' money do the rest. I want to at least know what I’m up against.” Richard uttered these last comments unusually out of focus; a thought of the buck-naked man may have crossed his mind. However, he continued on, “Besides, you don’t need that alcohol shit anyway. It can kill you.”
“OK, Ok, but I am a grown-ass man, and I will have me several of those drinks as soon as we return from your weird obsession, or journey, or even quest, whatever it is. Something! Something has gotten into you.”
Richard seemed preoccupied, but he managed to exclaim harshly, “What!”
“You heard me! Your crazy ways are going to get you killed one day.”
“Oh yeah, well at least I wont die an old man having doing nothing but scarf down barley and hops and smoke cigars until my lungs resemble a pot of boiling tar, stressed from extensive manual labor and mad because of all the things I could have done.” A silent and concealed chuckle that sounded like the letter ‘K’, sputtered from Joe’s mouth. “Let’s go!” Richard hopped off first, followed by Joe. The two men approached the area where the helicopters rested. In the large tower, the old man glanced briefly at the men before returning to his book and stuffing some unknown fruit in his
mouth. “It shouldn’t take us much more than thirty minutes to reach the spot.” They both climbed in and fitted themselves in properly.
Richard gauged the instruments and soon they were off. “How is Claira?”
“Oh, she’s fine. She had that meeting and she is really moving up. I’m proud of her achievements, and especially as a wife. Is everything OK with you and Susan?”
“Oh sure! Sure! She’s at the room waiting for me.”
“Oh my, aren’t we lucky.” Before Richard could indulge in the compliment, Joe was blabbering some more. “Or might I say unlucky. All these beautiful Brazilian women.”
“You’re married!”
“I know, I know! A man is going to be a man. You understand what I’m saying.”
“Yeah, right! Fuck around and bring Claira back a splendid case of Malaria.”
“Oh, funny!”
“Hey Joe, you know you are my good friend and I’m really glad you could make it.” His tone is suddenly softer, less obsessive.
“Yeah man, no problem.” Silence set in, and then suddenly the helicopter blades’ whisper became more noticeable. The helicopter ride was pretty smooth, and before long, they were approaching the spot. Richard looked down to focus on exactly where he wanted to land.
“Hey Rich, do you know where you’re gonna drop this baby?”
“Yes!” Richard exclaimed with a hint of irritation. “I spotted this location when I brought the investors out here.”
“Yeah, if you say so.” The helicopter-descended right where Richard wanted to land, and the men hopped out quickly after Rich slowed the rotors. “Damn, man!”
“What now, Joe!”
“This ground is kind of mushy.”
“Yeah, well let’s go up the bank a bit. It’s probably dry ground there.” They walked some distance away from the river, noticing all the sounds of wild birds, insects, and other unidentifiable creatures lurking in the forest. The two men did not notice the eyes concealed behind trees that obscured the watchers. Richard remembered something Professor Akbar had said during the flight."The mistake modern people make is assuming old stories existed only for entertainment."At the time Richard had dismissed the comment.Standing beneath the rainforest canopy, it seemed less amusing.These were the keen eyes of many men in ceremony. Richard walked around with dignity, unaffected by the eerie
sounds of the jungle. They walked down a pathway that naturally split the forest slightly. Joe looked around several different times trying to locate what was actually making those sounds.
The trail ended, but this new area had space to go several different directions. The thick layer of trees blocked the sunlight, which made their range of sight only fifty to seventy feet. Any further than that was not possible to see because a bundle of trees layered in tropical vines of some sort blocked the view. Richard stood about twenty feet away in one corner and listened to Joe expound on their surroundings.
“Is that a parrot? I have never seen a bird with so many different colors, and so bright. The next thing you know you’ll have me out here having conversations with wild birds.”
“Well Joe, for you that’s probably fitting. I’m sure you all would have much in common,” replied Richard with extreme sarcasm, just like the two friends were used to.
Joe responded, first with a look that he said he’d had enough. “Look!” which was spoken firmly, “you already have me out here in a Western version of our motherland, thinking we are part of Harubu nation. Biiiiiitch….!” This was spoken with a serious drag, but firmly and the tone seemed to be hateful. However, that was not the case. The two friends were used to crude humor — it was just a part of their usual jocular ways.
“We might as well paint our faces and hold spears while chanting syllables we have never even heard before, maybe go comatose from some of these unrecorded psychedelic plants.”
Richard could not do anything but release gentle laughs and smirks. “You are a damn fool.” He continued laughing.
“You’re laughing, but I’m serious,” replied Joe with a smirk of his own. The men walked through the other end of the opening. They began walking another path, and ahead of them were eyes watching them, but the two friends did not notice. Richard walked ahead and Joe followed, but they were still unaware that they were being observed. Where was the watcher? In a tree? It was unclear since they did not notice the eyes at all.
The two friends could not hear them, but there were chants of high praise, the sound of wood clicking as if primitive drums were being played. The sun descended
toward the western skyline. The sounds of primitive instruments of string also echoed and blended well with the looming nighttime forest chatter. A gloomy mist lifted, as did an aurora of the mystic. Images of primitive dancers indigenous spirits flashed about, accompanied with sounds of dancing and chanting, this intensified fiercely, but Rich and his companion could not hear this. In fact, to them it did not even exist. The eyes belonged to real men but also to the spirits that were being called upon. The sounds grew louder and the images flashed more intensely as pre-darkness snuck upon them.
“Richard, it’s getting dark.” Richard walked as if he did not hear his friend speaking to him. “I don’t know what it is you’re trying to do out here. I mean way out here in no man’s land. I mean, I mean, there are probably species we haven’t seen yet. And you got me out here after sunset. And it’s shit out here, what if a goddamn wild cat, or a muthafuckin…uh…uh...whatever the fuck. It’s all kind of shit out here. I don’t even know what to name. And you wanna come digging shit up. Something’s gotten into you, that’s a clear understatement. You’re just crazy. I feel like I’m in ancient Aztec.”
His reverie rudely interrupted, Richard replied, “Excuse my impudence, but it figures. With your mental capacity, obtuse as it may be, you couldn’t begin to grasp the benefits.”
“Well fuck you, and whatever you said. Just because you’re Rich, Rich! You know I’m gonna speak my mind.”
“I guess we better get back,” Richard said swiftly. “Just follow me down this path we previously trotted.”
“I hope you know your way out of this Jungle.”
“Joe, don’t be a fool.” As they walked about in search for where they had landed, the sounds of night now overlapped the earlier sounds they heard. Their ears sent their brains messages that were more eerie still. Joe again looked with panic as he tried to locate a sound his ears continued to register but his mind could not identify. Richard walked fast, and Joe seemed to fall further behind. The mysterious forest sounds and the unfamiliarity of the wild life terrain slowed him. Then suddenly he began to sprint up a hill perpendicular to the pathway. “I need to take a leak. Hold up man, hold up!” Richard was far ahead and barely heard him.
“What Joe?” He continued walking unaffected by the watchers and sounds.
“Oh shit!” Joe replied. In his mind, he thought, Damn, I must have slid down the other side. The fact that he needed to release urine didn’t change. He yelled out, “Richard, Richard!” Richard stopped in his tracks well ahead, turned around and softly replied. “Joe, what? Where are you.” He spoke softly, standing in his tracks with a bit of impatience. He began to slowly walk towards Joe’s cries. Joe decided his bladder needed emptying now. He chose a huge tree to stand upon to do his dirty work. No one was presumably looking, but he decided to choose a tree to conceal himself anyway. He probably was used to a huge Maple or Oak, and the bulging roots were normally used as stepping-stones. Joe did what he was used to and participated in one of the best releases ever. Standing there on two huge roots, he began to let her rip. He cocked back his head and relaxed while enjoying a much needed drainage. As the last morsels dripped out, he cocked his head back even further and enjoyed the shiver he received. “Oh shit,” shouted Joe. His body cocked forward from the sudden collapse from underneath him. It appeared the surface beneath had given way. What happened to the roots he was standing on? That was far from his mind. “Oh shit, damn!” yelled Joe, and the he loudly repeated his friend’s name over and over. “Richard! Richard! I’m stuck in some kind of trap. Shit man, come get me out of this shit.”
With a smile passing over his face, Rich replied, “I’m coming, I’m coming.” After yelling, Richard whispered to himself. “What has he gotten himself into now?” Richard walked forward, but then began to yell again.
“Joe! You know, when you bad–mouth the land, it’s not nice to you.” Joe could not actually hear him; he was still a good distance away. “Hey! Hey! Oh shit, Oh shit,” yelled Joe at the top of his lungs. He continued with a certain increase in despair, “It’s squeezing me. I’m being…Oh shit man, something’s squeezing me. Augh! Augh,” yelled Joe. Richard began to hear scarcely that his friend was in distress.
“I’m coming Joe,” Richard replied while accelerating his efforts towards the cries. Joe continued struggling as something beneath entangled his legs. Joe did not realize the mysticism involved in his attack. All he knew was that something was squeezing his legs very tightly. They had his legs entangled and it felt to him like anacondas wrapped around his legs crushing them. He could not scream much more because of the exhaustion caused by his efforts to be free. Just above him, two massive branches
plummeted down on Joe’s head. They were unnoticed because Joe was about ready to pass out. The branches cracked his skull, and thick goo oozed down his grotesque face.
Richard slid down the same slope Joe did, and then sprinted down the same trail. He called out, “Joe, Joe.” He was curious as to why he could not hear his friend's big mouth anymore. “Joe, Joe,” exclaimed Richard repeatedly while running in circles frantically. Eventually, he came across what was left of Joe. He stumbled in full stride and his face immediately reflected his disbelief and shock. He stopped completely and kneeled over, both hands on corresponding knees, and began to barf profusely. He noticed that Joe was definitely dead and buried from waist high near a tree. He did not stand around much longer; Richard turned and ran fast as he could down the same path non-stop. Richard mind began flashing on the image of Joe’s fractured skull. It was horrendous to look at and could have made anyone freak out.
Stumbling a few times, Richard finally made it to the mushy terrain where he had landed the helicopter. His feet constantly got stuck as he ran the final fifteen meters before jumping aboard his escape module. Mud dripped from his feet and sweat poured from his face caused by the hyperventilation and sheer panic. Richard ignited the engine, commanding the chopper to take off. It managed to ascend into the air even though it was partially buried in the soft ground Richard noticed nothing but the images that flashed through his mind. Pure panic reigned supreme in Richard’s mind as he fondled the complex instruments. During the whole flight, his eyes were fixed in a placid stare and would have mesmerized anyone who dared to look into them. Breathing frantically, the images were flashing more rapidly than before through his mind. Then he noticed the tower to his right, and where the other helicopter sat unmolested. He quickly commanded the chopper to descend to the right forty-five degrees. Richard had no clue as to what had happened; in fact, confusion was just a small portion of what was brewing inside of him. The helicopter landed safely but roughly as Rich continued to wrestle with his psyche. Controlling it proved laborious and indeed hideous. He jumped out of the craft and scampered about the field appearing extremely anxious. The erratic flying aroused vigilance in the little man in the tower, and he now gazed at Richard running for the nearest transport. The little man was puzzled out of his wits, sat down after scratching his head and merely shrugged his shoulders.
Richard arrived in his room, paranoia the major ingredient in his state of mind. He made a valiant effort to turn the knob of his room’s door, and then entered, anxiously closing the door behind him.
“Hey Boo!… What’s wrong?” Mrs. Dickenson said, curiously waiting for her husband’s response.
“What?” His words were spoken sharply as he came to his senses. “Oh, nothing is wrong!”
“Well why did you close the door like something was chasing you?” Richard turned and looked at the door, pausing before saying, “I didn’t know I closed the door any kind of certain way.”
Mrs. Dickenson’s eyes showed her concern. “Well, what took you so long? The investors are in the banquet room waiting on you. And did you pick up Joe?”
Richard listened with a sense of preoccupation and responded suspiciously. “That was the problem. I got a call that his flight would be delayed. I went to pick him up and he never showed.” He sat on the bed with nervous gestures and rejected his wife’s soft touches and condolences.
“Well, Boo, your letting this project get to you, maybe you need...”
“Maybe I don’t need shit!” Richard exclaimed rudely. “I don’t need anything. Look, this project is very important and is sure to cause some anxiety.”
“That’s fine baby, but damn! If it is going to have you like a paranoid nut, then this project needs reevaluation.
“Look bitch! I don’t need any of your badgering. I don’t need anyone on my back about this project. I’m the one who envisioned this and no one else.”
Richard arose from the bed, snatching away from his wife and making his way to the door. When he slammed the door behind him, for some reason it triggered those awful flashes again. This time they weren’t images of Joe, but images of blue. The images intensified as he approached the banquet room, and the images made it difficult to make a straight face. Now they were also accompanied by some strange and blurry flashes of red. Joe flashed through his mind as well, but this time there were men all around the late Joe. It soon became apparent those men that surrounded Joe were the authorities, and the red and blue lights were accompanied by a loud siren. Richard began
to examine the idea that police would slow down the project, if not nullify any chances of the investors supporting him. With that very distinct notion, he straightened his face and joined the investors’ celebration.
“Mr. Dickenson, hey! Where have you been,” said Dick joyfully just before he guzzled another martini down his trap.
“Just call me Rich!”
“Hey man. What is the matter with you anyway? Dick exclaimed like a true drunken sailor.
“Gentlemen, Gentlemen! Hey Richard! Nice presentation! Everything looked smooth!” Tapping Richard on the hand, Peter continued to say, “Dick! Hey, don’t you agree?”
“Sure, Sure,” Dick responded with a slur.
“You’re drunk! I’m sure glad we didn’t leave this discussion entirely up to you.” All three men drank glass after glass until Richard’s wife walked through the room with a very unhappy look on her face. As usual, Dick was the first one to blabber. “Hey, Mrs. Dickenson! What’s wrong?
She replied softly, “I’m fine!” as Susan continued past the gentlemen, rolling her eyes at Rich as she approached the bar for a drink.
“What’s wrong with your wife?” Richard shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the gentlemen. “Jim, come join us!” Dick shouted. Jim walked over to join Dick and Peter with his own drink tightly gripped in his hands. Dick blurted, “Hey Jim whets up? Lovely project!”
Jim replied gingerly with body gestures while Peter exclaimed, “I think Mr. Dickenson is acting a little strange.”
“Well you saw that his wife seemed angry!”
“Yeah, that’s enough to make any man act strange.” Peter accepted his comrade’s suggestion, but his face complemented his previous skepticism. “I don’t know.” “It’s probably just married problems”
“Richard probably gave her a quickie and escaped out here with us.”
“Yeah! I do that to my wife all the time.”
“Yeah Dick, but you aren’t ever trying to escape somewhere.”
Dick stood, obviously mystified and trying to grasp Jim’s comments. The gentlemen continued to talk amongst themselves while the other investors were enjoying their own conversations. Richard sat down alone on a lobby couch, with his hands draped over his face and head slanted downwards. Jim Winterlin walked from down the hall, drunk, but his keen eye noticed Richard sitting there. “Hey… Hey, Richard! Hey, what are you doing over here? Why are you not over there entertaining your guests?” Richard tried to respond, but just before he could say anything, Jim spoke again. “Hey Richard," spoken firmly as if trying to suppress his intoxication. “Is there something wrong? This isn’t the same extremely excited Richard. The presentation did go well, and we’re telling you that, so why the sad face. Is there something you need to tell us?”
Richard immediately realized the inflection in the other man’s voice could mean danger, or maybe it was just his own paranoia, and he responded quickly. “Oh no, there’s nothing wrong. And there’s nothing to worry about. Not at all. I just want to make things back right.”
A confused look crossed Jim’s face. “What back!”
“What I mean is, I wanted to make sure things were in order and I can get back the glory.
Jim replied, “Glory huh!?”
“Yes sir, this will allow us to conquer South America’s shipping industry.”
“Well I’m glad you think big, Richard. That is why we have our faith in you and this task you brought to the table. Just don’t worry about it — don’t let it get to you. You have our financial backing. You just execute.” He patted Richard on the back while rising to return to his drunken swagger. His destination was more drinks.
Richard calmly remained seated, hands on knees, and regaining his composure, he began to realize there was no stopping now. He noticed the soft touches of his wife’s hand pulling his to join her. He arose and kissed his wife as if there were nothing wrong.
“I’m sorry dear, for being a Jack Ass. I just let all that presentation stuff get to me.”
Susan politely put her finger on his lips and replied, “Let’s go dance.” With a satisfied smile gleaming across her face, the two finished the night drinking and dancing.
CHAPTER FIVE The flight home was restless for Rich. He contemplated what happened repeatedly, and he knew that he needed to succeed to make some good come out of this terrible loss. During his deep thought, he watched the trees disappear with the plane's ascension. When there was nothing but clouds to observe, he thought again, on how this project would be successful and his friend would not be lost for nothing. Finally nodding off, his daydreams carried over to his eventual sleep. Not even realizing he had nodded off, the sight of a man in the midst of the forest made up his mental imagery. His back was turned away from Richard, so all that he could see was the figure of a man standing mysteriously just about beyond his vision. He decided to walk toward the man because his curiosity grew overwhelmingly and could not be denied. As he got closer, he noticed the man began to walk away as if he knew someone was following him. The man never did look back, which is probably why Richard’s inquisitiveness began to commandeer his very thoughts and actions.
He tried to catch up, but to no avail, and before a full effort could be administered, he realized the man had vanished. Richard stopped in his tracks after losing sight of the man, and he looked around, assuming he must have hidden behind a tree. Looking back and forth and all around robotically, assuring full coverage of all areas he could at least see would not be overlooked. No matter the effort, there was no sight of the man and the place where he stood now seemed the same. Nevertheless, he was compelled to search, and he looked behind that vining tree to his right. “Oh, shit,” Richard blurted, after being startled by a hand gripping his shoulders, which caused him to turn around rapidly. This man had obviously sneaked up on him, and Richard realized that maybe he was mystical in some way. Looking more attentively, Rich noticed the man was Joe. This frightened him dearly, causing sheer panic to curl beneath his lamina of courage. The mysterious man then placed his other hand around Richard’s neck and began to shake furiously. Richard shouted at the top of his sleeping lungs and opened his eyes to notice his beautiful wife was now that man. She was only shaking him softly to advise him that they were the only ones left on the plane.
“Come on, Richard. We’re the only ones left. Get Up!” Malicious grog spilled from Rich’s mouth and his face showed his wide awake vigilance. “I’m up! I’m up! I must have dozed off,” said Richard convolutedly, realizing that he must have been dreaming.
“Well you don’t say,” uttered Susan with splendid mordacity. “Come on, let’s go!” She pulled him up and they exited the plane. After picking their little one up, they arrived at the gate before their home, and not a moment too soon for Richard. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson,” they heard the guard exclaim joyfully after activating the beautiful gates.
“Hello, Hayword,” Susan said softly. Richard and Dainisa just looked on.
“Everything is fine and secure here, sir! Nothing old Hayword Jeffries can’t secure, or even protect for that matter.” He talked to Richard with encouraging gestures in an attempt to please him. He rambled on, but his words seem to evade Richard’s ear, because he continued walking until he was entirely through the door. Richard actually headed straight for his bed to pass out into a deep sleep.
“Mommy! What’s wrong with Daddy?” “Oh, Boo! Daddy is just tired. We had a long trip. Are you hungry dear?”
“No ma’am. I ate pizza. Can I play the game?”
“Sure, I’ll be in your room to hook it up in a minute.” The little girl dashed to her room with joy to gather her components. Susan found her favorite book, made a cup of tea, and set the items where she had normally sat by herself to read. Proceeding to her daughter’s room, she peeked at her husband to see him just about hibernating. She shook her head and continued with her previous task.
“Mommy, Mommy, I want to play this game first!” Susan concentrated on assembling the components and connecting the necessary wiring to each respective outlet. “OK dear! Cut the power on.” The little girl pushed the button. “OK, let me hold that. I need to set it up” She placed the game on easy and adjusted the other settings to assure a lengthy game. Her plan was to get the little one out of the way so she could concentrate on relaxing while reading her book and sipping her tea. After sitting down, she sighed from the deepened relaxation she felt from the soft seating. Her face indicating relief after tasting the hot scorching tea, Susan made soothing
grunts and moans. Taking another sip, she reached for her book while gulping down another sip, and then she placed the cup down with a frown from the hot tea. A quick thought of her husband drifted into her mind. Shrugging it off, she slowly opened the book at the ribbon she had placed between pages before and began reading.
The little one had played the game until she was sound as sleep, but the game continued to play even though there was no one operating it. Three hours had passed and it was extremely late. Susan continued reading, not realizing she was now halfway through. She had no intentions of stopping. Besides, she had reached a part in which events unfurled unexpectedly, and it ate at her to know what would happen next. Intrigued, she continued to read diligently as curiosity flamed her every thought-spoken. The reading intensified paragraph after paragraph, until… “Ring, ring! Ring, ring!” The ringing continued, but she tried to ignore it. However, it became unbearably harsh. “Ring, ring!” Annoyed, she placed the book down with its face open and rushed to answer the phone. “Ring, ring!” She accelerated her efforts unaware that her hustle was futile, because the caller on the other end had no intention of hanging up.
“Hello,” she said exasperatedly.
“Hi, is this Susan?”
“Well, yes it is!”
“I’m sorry to call so late, but is Richard available?”
“Oh! No! He is asleep. Who might I say is calling?”
“I’m sorry! This is Claira Geshy. I was calling to see if Richard had heard from my husband Joe.”
“Oh, hi Mrs. Geshy. I didn’t recognize your voice. No! I think he said Joe had called and said his plane would be late, but he never showed.”
“That’s strange! Susan, do you happen to know which flight he was supposed to be on.”
“One of Richard’s private jets.”
“Oh dear! Well, thank you. You have been a big help,” Claira said sadly. The two terminated the call, and Susan now lost all interest in her book, deciding to cut the lights off in preparation for bed. In the dark, Claira remained seated for several minutes.Something felt wrong.Joe was many things.Late was not one of them.For the first time, a thought entered her mind that she immediately tried to reject.What if Joe had never made it home?The first task was to tuck her Boo away in bed and to cut off her lights and gaming console. When she reached her own room, she
immediately cut the room’s illumination to nil and jumped into the bed to eye her husband like a private one. She wondered why he was acting so strange, and the call from Claira seemed stranger still, but she nudged those thoughts aside and went to sleep. The next morning she awakened on her side with her eyes still closed, and she proceeded to roll over until flat on her back. She rolled again, but this time flat on her face with her legs stretched as if she were making an angel in snow with silky white sheets. “Honey,” she said, her voice muffled from her facedown posture. “Honey…,” she said rolling over quickly again and raising up on her buttocks, supported in a sitting position by her hands spread behind her like twin kickstands for a bike. She now opened her eyes only to confirm what she already knew — he was gone. Now she knew this project was more important than she was. Richard had stepped into his office at the same moment his partner was wiping the early morning grog from her face. The first thing on Richard’s mind was to get on the phone and contact the necessary party to assemble a survey crew. Intensity raged as he approached the phone. He knew this team had to be special, because they needed to be special. A good camp site was needed, as well as somewhere to dock the boats. He thought he would take a shortcut, because all he needed was an engineer to approve the site. This would allow construction ships and crews to be amassed at his visionary location without having to use his own capitol. He needed two civil engineers to go with the survey crew, but they were not available as soon as tomorrow. This prompted two trips, because there could be no delay.
“I need three land surveying contractors trained in navigation, also some helicopters pilots and field surveyors.” Demands continued to spill from Richard’s mouth. “And no matter what credentials. I need skilled people.”
A panicked utterance followed from the other end of the line: “No problem, Mr. Dickenson. We have the skilled party you need. I’ll fax you the contract specifications.”
The men terminated the call, and a pleased smile ripped across Richard’s face. He pressed a memory button on his phone, and a few moments later he blurted, “John! Let me see you in my office.” Richard cocked back his legs for relaxation and sipped some of Columbia’s finest.
John entered the room, hesitantly uttering, “Yes sir!?”
“I need you to assure the survey crew gets on the plane and arrives in South America safely. I also want you to maintain communication with them, and report anything to me, immediately!”
“Yes sir! Yes sir!”
“I’m going home. I’ve been neglecting my wife, but be sure to call me if anything happens.”
“Yes sir!”
“You may dismiss everyone else for the day, but you need to be here to assure phase one is completed.” Richard turned away from John’s unappeased face and walked gallantly out of the office. It was no time and his car sped off with seemingly no regard for traffic regulations. He was still filled with uneasiness because the project still needed the engineer’s approval, but it was just a matter of confirming structural integrity. That is why he had delayed any other engineers’ arrival on site — he needed his special engineer for the job. His plan was to send the survey crew just to get the dimensions of the land and to label that a specific site. Then later he’d introduce this labeled site to the engineers as a point on the map, not mentioning the exact measurements and hoping just an inspection of the general area would suffice. All he could think about was shortcuts and that nothing could delay this process.
CHAPTER SIX Meanwhile, Milo Evans briefed Ron, Nick, and Gary on the subject matter. “Mr. Rivera, Mr. Fusil, and Mr. Russy, may I get you gentlemen’s attention for a moment. Are you ready to work.” The crewmen were puzzled because their boss had never spoken out like that about a job.
Nick Fusil replied, “What! What are you talking about? I’m always ready to work! What is this? Did some client complain? Gary! Are you ready to work? What about you Ron, are you ready?” Ron sat there with a deadpan face and said nothing. Gary had stood there all the while in his overalls, his rough beard and mustache seemingly two in one.
The hefty man replied, “Milo, What’s up?”
“No one complained, but I have a job in which there can be no complaints. It’s a field job, and it will pay some good money.”
Nick’s cockiness soared. “Well, we’ve done plenty of field jobs.” Before he could blabber on further, Mr. Evans explained. “No, this is no ordinary field job. The only reason I even took this job is because I have my aviation license.”
With excitement, Ron blurted out, “Oh shit! We have to fly this trip!” Gary intervened while puffing on his extremely large cigar. “Where exactly are we going, Milo?”
“Well gentleman, this is an international job. Gary was stymied from replying because of the smoke engorged in his throat.
Ron Rivera sat with wonder, but slowly he managed to respond. “You mean we’re leaving the country?”
“Yes, we are going to South America!”
“South America! What? Why do we have to go all the way to South America,” Ron said with a truly opposing tone in his voice.
“Because, that is where the job is located, you idiot. Look, we take his plane to a city in Brazil. There are helicopters waiting, where we will use them to go to the designated spot and survey the area.”
Still enriched in the aroma of tobacco, Gary replied. “Where exactly in Brazil?”
“Central Brazil!”
“Isn’t that thick forest?”
“Yeah, but we will measure along the North and East coast. Gary! I need you to build a small dock, or just something sufficient to tie boats to, also a camp, which may take a few days. I think Mr. Dickenson wants everything to remain so that he can bring other inspectors”
Gary replied with a peculiar tone. “Mr. Dickenson?”
“That’s the client who wants the work done. He’s actually a very wealthy man."
“Oh!” With his curiosity some what alleviated, Gary said, “So I see! You called upon all of us for our individual abilities. Ah, now I get it.”
Nick blurted, “Yeah, Milo has always been slick. We may not want to go all the way to Brazil to work in a thick jungle. Besides, we have enough business as it is. You said it will pay a lot, but I doubt that it pays that much. Yeah, I heard about South America, and what I heard wasn’t peaches and cream.”
Ron was anxious to get his two cents in too. “Yeah Milo! How much is this Mr. Dickenson willing to pay?”
“Damn! I thought I could count on you men, but I guess I need to find some other people.”
“Naw, Milo! I’m with you,” responded Gary with a deep hillbilly accent.”
“You still didn’t tell us how much it pays.”
“Hold on, I’m getting to that.”
“I thought you didn’t know.” Ron looked at Milo with a sarcastic expression, and Nick muttered, “Man, we just fucking with you.”
“Yeah man, lighten up.” The leader of the group took a deep breath before offering his defense. “Well, the exact figures aren’t worked out just yet, but…”
“What?” The word was spoken sharply by both Ron and Gary simultaneously.
“Calm down! Calm down! "How much is it paying?"
Milo smiled.


"Enough to buy patience."


Nick laughed.


"That's not a number."


"Triple what you made last year."

Silence filled the room..
Milo Evans continued to give the particulars of the job while he had his crew’s undivided attention. “He seemed very eager to have this done ASAP. I told him! Hey, I’ve got four men who will be away from their families for a while, and on such short notice. Check this! I said hey, a long-range trip like this will probably be in the mid to high six figure range. That is for all of my men.”
“OK, OK, Milo!”
“Hey wait! I told him, I don’t even know how much land is to be surveyed and how harsh the terrain may be.”
“Oh, Milo! I get it! We have the flexibility to tack on additional fees. Yeah, I like that.” Ron turned and looked at Gary and Nick while Milo observed them all. The men remained silent as their faces appeared to gleam with avidity.
“OK, We’ll meet here early, before dawn, and fly out tomorrow at dawn. Gary! Be sure to order all the equipment and materials you may need. They need shipping before we leave.”
“Aye sir!” The words were spoken as of through congestion, due to the massive smoke that curled around Gary’s face. Hayword opened the beautiful gates to let Richard in. He seemed preoccupied, but in a pretty gingerly mood. Everything was moving according to plan, except he had forgotten to check with John to assure a cargo helicopter was delivered to the site. He refused to call him, declaring he’d had enough for one day. Besides, he figured it had better be there or John would have to answer to him.
“Hello Mr. Dickenson,” Hayward said with a doit of anticipation. Richard nodded his head, but continued for his doorway incessantly. Hayword had dreamed of being able to confront Mr. Dickenson, hoping to move up in stature. People even thought he was a little on the loose side because he had been seen talking to himself. More like a full
blown conversation is what they actually witnessed. What the watchers didn’t know was that he was just practicing for a conversation with Richard and was determined to make his worth known. “Mr. Dickenson! Blurted the gentle servant, but his boss seem unphased. “You know Mr. Dickenson. I know how to get the maximum potential out of me.” The servant got the boss man’s attention as indicated by the capricious look that landed on Richard’s face.
He responded sarcastically. “Son, if I’m not receiving maximum potential from you, than there’s no point in having you.”
“Well, no sir! What I mean is, I have a lot more potential to be filled. Basically, you’re using me ineffectively and inefficiently. That doesn’t quite correlate with the grand scheme of things, does it?”
“No it doesn’t Mr. Reynolds. So what is your point?” Mr. Dickenson said rudely as he gripped his door handle and pressed his thumb down to open it.
Hayword exclaimed, “I’m not just your ordinary security guard who is good for nothing but opening and closing gates all day. I have keen vision and much courage that will secure anything. Richard was well in the door before he was even halfway through his statement. However, Hayword still seemed relieved even though the door was slammed in his face.
“Honey,” hollered Richard in a pleasing voice despite being hampered just moments before. Just a moment drifted without an answer, as he fumbled through today’s mail. His attention was captured by an eccentric colored envelope that, for some reason, reminded him of his wife, maybe because the color resembled their wedding invitations. Nevertheless, he failed to open any of the mail, instead hollering loudly, “Sweety!” Unsure if her silence was intentional, he called out again very sharply and with a touch of mendacity. Richard even looked around his huge house in that very manner, wondering where she could be. “Hey! I’m sorry dear! I know I haven’t been showing you much attention, and I know I’ve been putting work before my precious dear.” After no response, Richard’s expression turned sour with possibilities.
“Honey, Where are you?” He squealed deplorably, but there still was no response, and the house seemed to grow extremely quiet. It was obviously affecting him intensely because he began to search the rooms frantically. Sprinting upstairs like a training athlete,
so overwhelmed by his sorrow, he failed to check their room until last. That is where she sat in her elegant and comfortable reading chair. Her eyes showed a touch of enjoyment at his search for her, but her face was also earnest. Richard stared her in the eyes after all of his pleading and approached her position gently. She curled up in her chair as if it were her last stand. She tried to stiffen her stare, and pressing her body against the plush leather chair. . Richard searched the house."Susan?"
No answer.
For a moment panic rose inside him.
Then he found her upstairs.
Waiting.
Watching.
Not angry.
Disappointed.
That hurt far more.
He crossed the room slowly.
"I'm sorry."
She remained silent.
"I know I've put this project before everything else."
Still silence.
"Before you."
Finally she looked up.
The hardness in her expression softened.
"You always say that."
"This time I mean it."
She studied him.
Then finally nodded.
Richard kissed her forehead.
For the first time in weeks he felt at peace.chapter sevenThe next morning, that glare was commanding once again, causing Susan to toss and turn. “Honey,” poured out of her lips, which were smashed from her face and mouth being pushed do far into her pillows that she was nearly suffocated. Feeling her hands about the bed, she noticed only her hands glide across silky sheets, and that the sun was undefeated. She rose with a bit of frustration from the empty feeling her bed gave. Upset at the fact she couldn’t hold her honey was enough, but that glare was truly the dominant factor in her rude awakening. It was proven because Richard experienced that same glare about thirty minutes before. Susan sat up and turned her back towards the glare, taking nearly an hour to get out of bed. Meanwhile, Richard was already directing the office personally, gathering any needs for the project. The survey crew was on their way. The plane flight was smooth and the four gentlemen finally landed in beautiful but wild Amazonian land. The small airstrip had remained the same since Richard’s last invigorating encounter. The air was sill accompanied with the sun’s vibrant shine, and the humidity was overwhelming. The four gentlemen exited the bombardier built jet Richard had reserved for them.
Nick Fusil was the first to exit the plane in his same confident and cocky manner.
“Goddamn! Shit! It’s hot as fish grease. I see why we’re getting paid, quote-unquote, big bucks.”
The others exited, and with no hesitation, Ron replied, “Nick, man, you can stand a little heat for the bread.”
Nick looked at Ron with a pitiful gaze, replying. “Yeah, I’ll bet! You Mexican,
Spanish, Puerto Rican muthafuckas are used to this heat.”
“Nick, don’t start with me, because your black ass is pretty scorched yourself. The last I heard, it was pretty hot in Africa.”
“Man. I haven’t been to Africa in over four hundred years. Shit, we the brown race now, just living in America. At least we’re not so damned emotional.”
Gary looked at the others and said, “Knock it off. We’re here to make some money and that is all.” The scrawny old man from the tower approached the men. “Hey gentlemen,” he said shrewdly and still with an unidentifiable accent. “I guess you gentlemen are Richard’s men. That big old cargo helicopter sitting over there just arrived. The pilot should still be inside. He can help you all load the chopper and fly you to the destination.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” Nick declared, stepping in front of everyone and sounding very demanding. The old man shrugged his shoulder and kept silent.
He started walking towards the helicopter and Milo Evans followed. “Come on guys, follow me,” uttered Milo. The old man proceeded in front of the crew with a swagger and said nothing for the moment.
“Damned hot, and I thought Florida was hot!” cried Nick while continuing to complain about the fierce heat that seemed to hold him down and pound on him. Gary seemed unaffected as he puffed away. Milo and Ron were engaged in their own conversation that brewed with laughter.
Finally reaching the chopper, the old man said, “Gentlemen! The pilot!” Not quite sure of his name, he continued, sputtering, “He can fly you all and help load or unload, or whatever it is you need to do. I don’t know what the plan is, but the man seemed obsessed.” The men loaded the helicopter and the old man returned to his tower. The pilot was silent as he sat in his cockpit and fiddled with the gadgets before him.
The gentlemen sat down, but Nick couldn’t resist blurting out, “Well, Mr. Rude, I guess you don’t speak…”
Milo interjected, “Excuse me, sir. What is your name and function, or at least after you drop us off?” The pilot remained silent for a moment, looked at Milo and then glanced over at Nick, and finally declared, “I was instructed to fly you to the project site, and to help with any unloading.”
“Are you camping out with us.” The pilot chuckled before saying, “Oh No…! I’m just a pilot who is dropping you off at your destination.”
Nick spoke out boldly as if Milo’s interruption irked him. “You mean you’re leaving us out here! Oh, Hell no! Just leaving us in the middle of nowhere?”
“Hey look!” The pilot yelled dejectedly. “I’m not paid to go camping in a thick rainforest.” He chuckled again before completing his statement. “Oh no! I’m sorry.”
“Hey Nick, we’re getting paid for this, OK. Be easy,” replied Ron.
“The pilot yelled, “Hey, will you tell Mr. Bungalow over there to put that cigar out, damn! Everybody doesn’t find it easy to inhale the smell of crude tobacco and used motor oil. My helicopter is not an auto shop.”
Gary said nothing but continued to puff away.
“Just fly the damned helicopter,” replied Nick. The helicopter lifted away.
The noise faded.
Then disappeared entirely.
Silence.
A strange silence.
Not empty.
Watching.
Waiting.
The men stood motionless.
For the first time they understood how alone they truly were.Milo looked out of the window and noticed the drifting Amazon below, and he asked, “What about an emergency, how can we contact you.”
“There’s radio equipment that you all will be setting up in your camp. Mr. Dickenson will arrive in a couple of days.” The gentlemen registered discomfort on their faces, but they had nothing else to complain about. The remaining flight was calm, but the pilot was aggravated from the smoke Gary persisted to exhale. “OK gentlemen, we are finally here. Now you men can get the hell out of my sight.”
“Well, thank you too,” replied Nick. The pilot adjusted the helicopter controls and proceeded to descend. The landing was smooth and the four men were eager to get out of the cramped helicopter. Nick jumped out of the helicopter and looked around excitedly. With an amazed look upon his face, he shouted, “Goddamn. Now where the hell are we?”
Milo replied, “I showed you on the map.”
“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t imagine we’d be in the middle of a jungle.” Ron looked as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh man, how in the hell are we going to start this survey with all these thick trees, man?!”
In the meantime, Gary unloaded his supplies while Ron and Nick continued their complaints. Gary then walked over to the banks and scanned the scenery. While unloading equipment:
Gary notices footprints.
Bare human footprints.
Too large.
Too deep.
Not recent.
Not ancient.
Just...
wrong.

Gary says

"Anybody else see these?"

Nobody does.
When he looks again:
There Gone“Milo!”
shouted Gary.
“Yes Gary, what do you need?” Gary trudged over with an obvious look of disappointment. “There’s no way in the hell I can build a boat dock with this limited equipment.”
“Well, what are you missing?” “Well, first of all, look at the shoreline. I’m going to need some digging done, not to mention special equipment. The boat is too big.”
Milo looked puzzled, but then advised Gary to improvise. “Just build a small one. We may have to anchor the boat and bring smaller ones to shore.”
“OK! That will work.”
“Oh Gary, do you have enough bagged cement to build a landing pad for the choppers, because this area seems a bit soft and mushy to land.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. That Briscoe guy must be used to this area.” The pilot had finally told them his name in flight.
“Hey Briscoe, this ground is pretty tough to land on, huh!”
“Well, this cargo chopper has a strong motor to take of with — quick sand probably won’t stop it from ascending.”
“Great! Great!” Milo declared, but he was continuing to speak commandingly.
“Has all the equipment been unloaded?”
“Yes,” exclaimed Captain Briscoe. The pilot advised of his departure and told them to radio if the encountered any problems. Nick looked on, anxious to chastise.
“Hey, you fucker! You better not leave us here, shit. I don’t do jungles, and where I’m from, we kick the ass of any muthafucka who wants to strand another muthafucka!”
“Calm down, Nick! Gentlemen, listen up! We need to devise a plan to get this job done.”
“I don’t know man, Milo! It seems, I don’t know! Something hasty to me.”
“I don’t understand Nick, look at it this way. We will be able to contact him by radio.”
“Are you sure about that,” replied Nick with a slander in his eyes and his anger boiling within.
“Yes, I’m sure the radio is adequate. Isn’t that right Mr., or Captain, Briscoe!” Briscoe showed slim patience and offered an agitated response. “The radio is already set
to the necessary frequency. You just make sure you connect it to adequate power. A good generator, like the one I helped unload, should suffice.”
“Gary, that’s a check… OK, great! Gentlemen, first we need to get started on the camp, and Gary, do the best you can with the dock situation. Make sure the camp’s rain proof. I hear there’s a lot of rain in this part of the globe.”
“Yeah, all we need now is to get drenched and have to radio in.” Nick hawked in is throat and spit out a huge pile of cold mucous after letting everyone know how he felt.
“OK men, let’s get that camp up first. We’ll be sleeping the night here. So the camp is first, and the dock is second.”
“Hey, Milo! Do you think it would be better to take first recordings along banks and mark those as endpoints.”
“Go ahead, Ron. I’m listening.”
“That way, all we have to do is follow the eastern coast of this godforsaken land, to whatever distance is necessary.”
Captain Briscoe had overheard the conversation just before departing and said, “Hey, that’s a shortcut. I don’t know if my boss would appreciate this.
“The math will do the rest,” Ron continued despite Briscoe’s rude butting in.
“That’s all we want right, the dimensions! I heard something about measuring dimensions and that’s all.”
“Yeah!”
“But he will need us again when he brings the engineers with him, so there may be more money involved,” replied Milo after huddling his crew to keep Briscoe from hearing them again. They were all amenable to the prospect of more money, but Nick doubted he would return. Just as that thought was chemically induced, he slapped his legs and blurted, “Yeah, I don’t need any money, or whatever, more money. This will be enough! These damned mosquitoes, or shit, I don’t even know if they are mosquitoes. Well, some are, but damn, they look like little dragons. What the fuck is this?” Nick ground at his face and slapped at his other leg. “You see what I mean. I must have sweet blood. I know ya’ll being bit, but you act like you’re not. See, I was tricked into this job, so yeah, I’m going to take my money. Then, I’m getting the fuck out of here, and I’m never coming back.” Nick had comical intimations in his tone, but he was always serious.
Gary proceeded with preparations for building the camp, but first he mixed the concrete with Amazonian waters. He prepared a mixture to help build a simple foundation for the camp, about thirty to fifty meters from shoreline. Nick began setting up their tents, while Milo and Ron set up the survey scoping equipment.
“Ron! Here’s the plan. I’ll walk down the north bank, to the east. I’ll go until I reach the shoreline. We’ll record in increments of 100 meters. After we have completed this side, we will then walk south along the eastern bank and repeat the process.”
“Well, how far down do we go?”
“We are supposed to be very close to the midpoint of this project, so according to this map, not tremendously far.” Meanwhile, Gary hacked away with his hammer, his cigar hanging from the corner of his slightly closed lips. “Hey Nick, hold that, will ya please?”
“Yeah! Hold up and let me finish tying this down and I’ll be right over there.” Ron and Milo proceeded with their plan, and Gary, with some casual help from Nick, built a waterproof lab equipped with a gas tank for fuel and a power generator. The next thing was living quarters suitable for the living conditions of a rainforest. He didn’t really need much of the concrete, so he built a mini-wall around the tents Nick had set.
“Nick, give me a hand with this digging.”
“Hey, you didn’t tell me about this. I’m not a digger.”
“There’s a shovel in the lab,” Gary said with a bully’s mentality. Nick did join him and they proceeded to dig. Maybe an hour went by and the heat poured grossly upon the men.
“Shit, it’s hot as fuck,” Nick said, seemingly with his last breath, and the clatter of his shovel as he tossed it to the ground served as punctuation.
“OK, that’s enough, we can stop.”
“No!” Gary exclaimed, “just a little more.”
“Oh no, I’m through.” Gary said with a look of disappointment growing upon hearing his friend’s reply.
“What’s wrong with you, man. We still got more shit to do. You’re trying to make this extremely laborious in this bug-infested land.” “OK, OK, let us lay the concrete. At least can you get the finisher while I set up and prepare to pour.” Nick fetched the water
while Gary continued to work rigorously, like he always did. He was a hard working man, and his appearance supported that claim. On the other hand, Nick was a hot shot know-it-all, but he didn’t know it all, at least all that his attitude would suggest. He was indeed keen and aggressively outspoken, quite the opposite of Gary, especially the hard work part. If it weren’t for his brilliance, he wouldn’t be here, and the fact that these two were antipodal is probably why they worked well together.
“So Gary, what do you think?”
“What do you mean, Nick?”
“Well, about out here! Isn’t this kind of extreme?” “Indeed, I guess the extreme part of it is what it takes for the big bucks.” Gary spoke in spurts because he puffed his cigar in three second intervals, and Nick watched pathetically.
“Hey, it’s a job, and if this is what it takes for the real money, then I’m all for it.”
“Hmm…,” Nick smirked, and the gentlemen finished the task.
Chapter 8 The sun was beginning to descend into the latter part of the western skies, and those who could see it were astonished by the glistening reddish-orange King as it completed one more cycle.
“Hold up, Milo. You’re moving too fast.” From the distance came an echoed reply. “I’m trying to hurry up and finish before… oh shit!”
“What’s the matter,” Ron called out frantically as he accelerated his pace.
“Damn,” was all Ron heard, and he replied. “What! What is going on? Milo!” There was a stagnant moment of silence before Milo could explain his grief. “I didn’t see this on the map,” Milo whined.
“What Milo? What?” Ron yelled as he approached closely, noticing Milo point with aggression.
“Holy shit, a goddamn stream.” Ron had a puzzled look as he gazed at the roaring waters raging through the jungle.
Milo continued, “We need to get across to measure the remaining distance to the eastern shoreline.”
Ron scanned his readings and suggested, “Well, how far could it be. I mean, we’ve measured this far.”
“But look, Ron! This stream isn’t on the map, so I don’t know if its 100m or 250m.”
“We’ll, what the fuck are we going to do?”
“Tell you what, let me see,” Milo said with a tone of growing confidence. “I’m going to run along this stream and see if there’s some way to cross it.”
“Ah huh.” A chuckle sputtered from Ron’s mouth and he said, “I don’t know if we can ford that stream — it’s roaring.”
“Hold this,” cried Milo as he darted his way boldly alongside the stream. Ron accepts his comrade’s instruments, and then he watches as Milo slowly disappears into the thick forest. Ron clutched what he was holding harder as Milo became more and more
difficult to see. He watched until Milo dropped out of his sight. In fact, the men knew that they needed hurry up with the remaining land because the light was dimming noticeably. Ron found this out when he tried to run after his boss. The sun was indeed setting, but it was difficult to determine because of the thick trees, but they had also underestimated the evening illumination in this forest land. It was not easy to see far ahead, and Milo was the first to find that out as he fought his way through thick branches, dense vines, and rough terrain. This proved even more difficult than it would normally be in a rainforest because he traveled on the edge of this mighty stream. The current traveled deep into the thick forest and showed no sign of an ending. Milo stopped.
The stream should have ended.
It didn't.
Every turn revealed another bend.
Another stretch.
Another excuse to keep walking.
He knew he should turn back.
Yet something inside him insisted:
Just a little farther. Milo began to get frustrated and did not realize how far downstream he had traveled. “Damn it!” His grunts and moans grew in frequency with his agitation. “Shit, Hmm…” The frustration now was being translated into determination, however, and he continued to fight through. At this point, he had forgotten what the true objective was in crossing the stream, but he wasn’t aware let alone concerned about the loss of focus. Eventually, it became apparent there was no way across, and this caused him to now refocus into his own little zone. His paces began to increase as did his breathing, which corresponded to his every dedicated effort.
Clump, clump!
“Argh! Oh shit damn, damn, damn! Shit, I’m bleeding? I didn’t see that damned sticker bush,” screamed Milo in pain and showing it all as he stared the bush down. Milo picked himself up and sat on a tree stump to try to regain his breath. Blood ran furiously down his leg, and he neglected to wipe it, only to mope in disbelief. It was getting quite dark now, and he had wandered quite far. He looked at the stream with vengeance, because it was the reason why he was in this situation in the first place. He glanced at the blood that ran down his leg, almost giving it a dull stare, but then he quickly looked up at the stream with the same attitude for just a short moment. The path he thought would get him back to camp was now what he wanted to locate. However, he did not move. He only looked around several times before getting stuck gazing only at the roaring stream.
He began to notice the beauty, then in the corner of his eyes, “What the fuck!” Looking up quick and distorted, he thought his eyes had caught the glimpse of a butt-naked man dashing through the forest. He dismissed this as an illusion, a hallucination
brought on by his circumstances, and continued to stand hunched back over this huge tree stump. He thought to himself how amazing this stream was that he’d found flowing through the forest, but somehow the trees remained rooted. It resembled a river flowing through the jungle, and the beauty of the stream struck him again, but the sight of that man disturbed the wild elegance the stream represented. He could not deny what he thought he saw now. In an effort to see what, or who, seemed to be watching, Milo stumbled over the tree stump, and immediately called out in distress, hoping Ron could hear him even though he had traveled very far.
Just before, when Milo had raged in terror, Ron believed he had heard something of that nature. He couldn’t really decipher the sounds, or even the fact his buddy called out in distress. The fact that fear engulfed him, and his inability to make sense of all the different forest sounds, is probably what distorted his hearing. Nevertheless, Ron walked forward because Milo had not returned. The Latino man was reluctant to follow the treacherous path Milo had trotted moments before. “Milo!” Ron yelled loudly, again and again. “Milo,” again exclaimed Ron even louder than before, but to no avail. He began to drift beyond his current position because he couldn’t see very well. He also began to worry after several calls went unanswered. In a terrified manner, Ron quickly darted back toward camp to get the other crew. His frantic get away was evident, because he nearly stumbled over every other stump that was in his way.
Finally making within shouting range of camp, he yelled, “Nick, Gary, hey man I need your help. Milo went off into the forest and wouldn’t answer when I called for him. I thought I heard him cry for help.” The men’s attention was disrupted from their feasting upon a squirrel Gary had skinned and roasted. They both looked up to see why Ron was panting.
“What’s wrong?” yelled Nick.
“Oh man! Fellas, you all got to help me.”
“What! Where’s Milo?”
“That’s the problem. He went off into the woods and has not returned.” A chuckle came from Nick’s mouth and he said, “He’s probably fucking with your scary ass.”
“No way, man! We came across a stream and he went to see if it could be crossed
but he never came back. I think he may have tried to cross and fell in — no telling what is in that murky water. We need to find Milo.”
“OK, OK, calm down! Calm down,” said Gary in a surrendering tone. Before he could say anything else Nick blurted, “Calm down, damn! You scary fuck, we’ll find him.” Come on Gary, let’s go and find Milo for this scary cunt.”
“Man, fuck you. I know when something is not right.”
“Oh yeah, sure Ronnie boy!” Ron became frustrated at Nick’s comments, but he ignored him by speeding ahead of the crew to the last spot he saw Milo. Milo still sat next to the stream that wound within the depths of the forest and revealed no true beginning or ending. Blood had run unceasingly from his wound caused by his earlier blunder. There was also a botch on his head from his stumbling over the stump that he now used to relax and observe the stream, perhaps the man he’d seen in the trees if he showed himself again, and his wound. The head wound was the cause of his disorientation, and the reason for being severely startled as he plunged headlong into the water. Splashing violently, the relative coolness gave way to a burning sensation as his nose filled with water. The water also soothed his injuries with coolness. Finally floating to the top after plunging deep, he was when able to gasp for air and cough any trespassing water out. Even though he got this somewhat relief, his wound did not stop bleeding. This fact made the blood permeate the stream, and it began drifting on the currents, which he knew was not a good thing for him because he did not know what could be lurking in this winding stream.
His wounds weren’t making his panic better, which now pulsated with pain because the cold water effect had worn off. The blood continued to drip, making a long and scent filled trail. He was certain that there were all kinds of things in this water: alligators and crocodiles, water moccasins and anacondas. There were certainly all types of creatures lurking in the forest, especially a small isolated stream whose source was the mighty Amazon. There were fishes of all types: eels, stingrays, and even blood sucking leeches. Milo floated about, trying rigorously to stay above water, not only to catch his breath, but also not to notice what was beneath him. In fact, what was below these murky waters were all sorts of unknown creatures. There were also things of beauty swimming
below — gaudy uncatalogued fish that were colorful and swam in synchronistic formations giving true meaning to nature. There were also spotted bass with their black dotted spots on their tails all about. At the bottom were beautiful fish with red bellies that swam in huge schools, their swimming patterns resembling military formations. They appeared more organized than any other fish, and reflected that same beauty from a distance. But all of a sudden their harmonious and synchronistic swimming became erratic and unstable. They appeared to have been aroused and now began to swim in huge swarms. The scent of blood was evident to these Amazonian creatures.
As if he knew, Milo began to swim more frantically, sensing something in this water may want him for a meal. He knew he needed to get out the moment he plunged in yelling, “Help! Somebody help!” The water gagged him slightly and it was heard in his every cry. “Help, oh shit, oh shit! Ahhh…!” Milo yelled as loudly as he could manage. A huge swarm of piranha’s teeth had engaged his wound fiercely, and they continued to strike by the hundreds. In moments, they had disintegrated his wound and continued to saw away with their teeth. Ten seconds later, Milo had a vacant stare upon his face. The very blood that kept him alive had dripped out of him, and the menacing fish continued to munch away leaving gapping holes in his legs. Hundreds of muscular fish with dentures that the local Indians used to cut their clothes were now being used to cut Milo. Thirty seconds had passed and they were now inside his cavity, feasting upon liver, heart, and stomach. Continuing in massive swarms, they engorged into what’s left of the organs and finished the remaining flesh.
There wasn’t much left of Milo, except his partially torn clothes still hanging upon his skeletal frame, specifically his coat. The brain was valuable for its nutrients, and the fish ate every morsel as soon as they chewed through his neck cavity. Only scarce remnants of flesh remained, and dangled from his bones. Milo’s horrible death had brought much joy to other life forms. All anyone would have seen was his coat floating above water and the splashing the carnivore fish made. The currents drifted him down stream that winded within the dark expanse of this grim forest. Finally, a branch caught the coat, which left what was left of the lifeless Milo suspended in one spot while the fish continued to assure every opportunity to get some calories was met.
Meanwhile, the others were unaware that their rescue attempts were slightly
behind schedule. After running far ahead of the others, Ron stopped to gasp furiously in an effort to catch his breath. He waited for his friends while he continued to swoon from his extreme adrenaline rush. Ron stood with his hands on his knees and looked firmly in the direction he believed Milo had vanished. Fierce and timid eyes alike produced uncertainty in him as they peered from the darkness, and he began to shudder inside upon hearing Gary and Nick’s cluttered conversation approaching.
“Are you trying to leave us, Ron?”
“Yeah! Goddamn, your running your ass off, and you ask for our help. Since you’re running your ass off, why in the fuck you ain’t run your ass off and find Milo?”
The men were now all together, but Gary uttered immediately after Nick spoke, “There’s no way he could have crossed this. How?” Gary questioned. “I’m sure he knew that.”
“Well let’s go, he went this way along the stream.” The three gentlemen followed the path in search of their missing comrade. Nick led the bunch, followed by Ron and Gary. Ironically, Nick walked ahead. It seemed Ron’s enthusiasm had worn off, but they all called for Milo and fought the same rugged terrain. They were all pumped up now. Their hyperventilation was due to a sense of urgency to hear their comrade’s voice. Ron was actually pumped for more than one reason, however — the other was Nick’s constant mouth. He wasn’t scared, and courage was all about him this very moment. Gary remained calm, but one thing was different about him. Forgetting to light a cigar usually didn’t happen no matter what the emergency, but this occasion seemed to mark that as fair minimum.
“Milo!” Ron called out trying to avoid the response from Nick.
“Well, where did he go?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Where did you last see him?”
“Ummm, I last saw him…” A bit of hesitation as to their location had set in and his pondering where they were at was evident. “Where I waited for you back there.” Ron pointed in the direction of the spot where he had waited for them, when he first ran off ahead of Gary and Nick.
“You mean you didn’t even go look for the man before you came running to us?
At least you could have gotten some sense of direction. You see what I mean, Gary.” Nick looked at Gary and shook his head in disgust. He pointed his flashlight downstream and began to observe while speaking, “I don’t see much of shit. You think it’s a good idea to split up.”
Gary pondered this possibility for a brief moment, and Ron helped by adding, “I don’t’ know if that’s a good idea. I know Milo. He was looking to conquer this stream. Believe me, he stood close to the edge.” Nick looked at Ron, and for once, he convinced them. The crew minus one stood together now and fought their way downstream. However, by this time, Ron was a little ways ahead of Nick and Gary. His confidence had been boosted by speaking his mind. He was determined, because without Milo, Nick was left to run all over poor old Ron. He searched with his flashlight, and he saw in the distance light water disturbances that produced a cause for urgency. He directed his flashlight in that direction. “Milo!” he hollered sharply. Then Ron noticed what appeared to be Milo’s raincoat, who had been wearing it for the protection it offered from mosquitoes. It was complimented by a pair of yellow rain boots, and Ron noticed one over there by the tree stump, which initially caused him to sharpen his eyesight. “Hey, I found one of his boots. I told you! I told you! He must have fallen in,” cried Ron.
Nick pointed his flashlight in the direction of Ron’s cries as they approached him. In the near distance Ron cried, “It looks like he’s holding onto a branch or something. We’ve got to get him and pull him out.” Ron squealed louder, waiting for Gary and Nick, “Milo! Milo! We’re coming! Hold on!”
Gary and Nick arrived at that very tree stump Milo once rested upon, and they immediately noticed bloodstains. This alarmed them and made them take Ron cries a little more seriously. Ron was just ahead and he continued to call out. His comrades heard, but they were awed at what they currently laid their eyes upon. Gary looked puzzled. “Why in the hell was he doing? I know he wasn’t trying to cross here.”
Nick gazed at the curious setting and advised strongly, “Come on, let’s find out what Ron’s squealing about.”
“Hey guy’s, over here! I think I found him. Look… over there.” They all gathered around to focus in on the apparent presence of Milo, but before moments could pass, Ron blurted. “That doesn’t look like splashing!”
“What is that?” Gary exclaimed while he squinted his eyes to fight the darkness.
“Oh shit man, I don’t think he’s holding on. I don’t think he’s holding on. Oh shit man, what is that?” Ron proceeded to try and reach for Milo.
“Get your hands back!” Nick shouted while pulling Ron back fast. “You wanna get your ass ate up, or at least bit up.”
“What!?”
“Don’t what me, you see.”
“What the fuck,” replied Ron with amazement coupled with exasperation. Gary said, “Oh man, those piranhas had a feast.” Ron looked at Gary and Nick, and then glanced upon what was left of Milo before he started puking. “Oh no man, no man, shit! How could this happen?” cried Ron.
“Because you left his ass, dummy.”
“Hold on, Nick. Now leave him alone. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“We need to call that Richard mutha-fucka to get us the fuck out of here, or that pilot. Or whoever.”
“How do we get back?”
“See! See! I told you we shouldn’t have let that pilot leave us.”
“Calm down Nick, just follow this same stream.” The men ran back the way they came as best they could and hysteria ran rampant in the air. The entire way back, the men bickered continuously. although Gary spoke hardly at all, except for the few times he had to save Ron’s neck from Nick’s constant verbal abuse. In fact, Gary kept them on track to camp, because if not, Ron and Nick would probably have wandered off into the wilderness.
“Man, I don’t believe this shit… You done let Milo fall in the water and get eaten by fish…,” said Nick disappointedly. “I mean how and the hell can that happen?”
Gary intervened with smooth comments. “Gentlemen, we need to remain focused. I believe just ahead is where we need to take that left path.” They made their way closer to camp before Gary was the first to say, “Ron, didn’t you have a cell phone. I know it’s a long shot, but see if you can get a reception. Call that Richard guy.”
Ron reached for his phone and Nick asked, “Do you even have the number, a klutz like you.” “Yes you jackass. It’s in the phone. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
“Call him,” exclaimed Gary. Ron searched for the number while complaining. “I’m not sure if we’ll get a reception.” He pressed the talk button and paced back and forth trying to get the clearest reception. “Here, I think I can hear OK.” He stood over a patch in the forest where he could see the night sky and that was manageable. The phone rang and Ron stared for some reason away from the western flowing river, but towards the same jungle that had consumed Milo before. “Hello, this is Susan. How may I direct your call?”
“I need Richard!” Oh I’m sorry. The office is closed. You will have to call back during normal business hours.” Ron stared into the eyes of something that concealed itself behind a tree that lay in the distance. It was dark, so his sights were dim, but what he could see was stunning and terrifying.
He lost contact with the eyes when Nick snatched the phone from his clutched hands. “Give me that,” he said abruptly! “What the fuck did they say, Ron? Hello, is anyone home? Earth to Ron. What the fuck did they say?” “I don’t know man. I don’t know,” replied Ron with the panic evident in his voice.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? What the fuck is wrong with you man? You look like you saw a ghost. Gary, man, get a hold of that young man.” “What’s the fucking number you dimwit.” Nick proceeded to call the company after literally squeezing the numerals out of him. The phone rang again and Gary consoled Ron, trying hard to find out why he was in a daze.
“Hello this is Susan. How may I direct your call?”
“Yes, I need Richard.”
“I’m sorry, but…”
“This is an emergency, what do you mean I’m sorry,” exclaimed Nick with agitation boiling in his voice. “What is his home number?”
“I’m sorry but that information in unavailable.”
“Is that all you are is sorry? What do you mean it’s unavailable. I need someone immediately, and I can care less about how sorry you are.”
“Sir, listen! The office is closed. Would you like his voice mail?” “Look lady, there’s been an accident. Who’s in charge of this project in South America.”
“Oh, the project. One moment please.” The operator transferred the call as soon as
she realized who was on the other end.
“This is John! How can I help you?”
“Look John, is that your name?” A polite yes followed and Nick continued his yelling. “You need to get Richard on the phone, now!”
“Wait, who is this?”
“Nick, with Milo and Sons Contractors Inc. You know, we were hired for this jungle bullshit.”
“Oh yes sir. How’s it going?”
“Not dandy, that’s for damned sure. Look, I suggest you get us the fuck out of here. One of our men has been eaten alive. I hope you all don’t want us to stay here and be done the same way. I think not. I think you muthafuckas are crazy if you expect that.” A silence persisted after Nick had gotten the frustration off his chest. The sounds of the night time forest vibrated all around them. While Nick waited to be connected to Richard, Gary and Ron had a quite conversation between them. However, those eyes watched the gentlemen once again. There were now other eyes around other trees and the sounds of the jungle seemed amplified.