Page 49 of Beautifully Wild

I let out a sigh of achievement.

With my phone in my hand, I click away admiring the waterfall streaming over the cliff edge more than a mile high, so it’s impossible to capture its entirety.

The steep rocky decline leads to Angel’s Stream and a pond fed by a second cascade. We moan in unison at the disappointment of the cloud hovering above and blocking our view to the peak. Asoo encourages us to hike down to the pond for a swim, and no one objects in the sweltering heat.

Following Asoo’s lead, I scamper down the rocky drop and strip down to a swimsuit, which is now like second nature to wear under clothes. I shower under the second fall and climb slimy rocks to walk behind the cascade. After a swim and feeling significantly cooler, I clamber out of the pond and sit with Asoo.

“It’s breathtakingly beautiful. I only came here because a friend recommended it, and I’m glad I took up the offer.” We exchange smiles of appreciation. “My friend, he also talked about the Pemón communities around here. Their traditional way of life interests me.”

Asoo frowns. “Most have European influence.” He gazes up without elaborating, and when I do the same, I’m amazed how the clouds have dispersed, and Angel Falls is now in full view.

“Unbelievable,” I whisper. The sheer height of the falls is mind-blowing from the ground.

Asoo and I sit back on the rocks, and in a trance, I realize I’m on the adventure my heart seeks so desperately. It’s only now my journey has truly started. I stare at the falls for I have no idea what length of time, and my thoughts drift, wondering if my past has led me to this day. The clouds pass by overhead, slowly thickening, and in a short time, our view is blocked once more, as if white-out has removed everything above the green.

“Eden,” Asoo says, bringing my head out of the clouds. “You lucky. You see her beauty. Now, we head back.”

The way down, I assume to be quicker, only I slip even more on the tangled roots than I did before. Asoo maintains a good pace, the gap between us widening. By the time we reach our curiara, I’m out of breath. Asoo waits for me to board and pushes the canoe out into the river. I scramble over seats to sit with him at the back and chat while straddling my seat to observe our approach and him because he’s been frowning for the past half hour.

“Something is bothering you,” I say, more of a statement.

Asoo points to the sun.

I nod. “We don’t need to stop for breaks. I have fruit in my backpack.”

“My helper say rapids safe. We travel alone.”

“If it’s faster, then yes. It’ll be quicker than me walking.”

I turn to admire the view of the river snaking through a never-ending garden. The awareness of danger dissolves with an inner peace of being here in the Amazon. Her gardens are the lungs sustaining all life. I take in a deep breath and smile.

We turn the bend, and Asoo takes a tributary river, the fork disguised by overhanging tree branches narrowing the entrance to twenty feet wide.

If I ever considered my mind and gut could work in unison, it would be now. My thoughts race knowing this isn’t our route. He’s focused on navigating the canoe, but nothing in his expression hints not to trust him.

Sensing me staring, he nods to a package at his feet. “I deliver parcel to friend.”

I draw my gaze from studying his expression to the river ahead. The current is significantly slower with a narrower river and sharper bends. Retrieving my water bottle, I guzzle down a few mouthfuls. Pushing my drink inside, I stumble on my seat at the crack of thunder directly overhead. Asoo shouts in a language I don’t understand. Clouds roll and thicken, and it’s as though I’m watching a storm on film in fast forward. In a matter of minutes, the skies open and cry heavy tears on us.

The rain pelts my shoulders and back. I’m all for getting wet to cool down, only the sting is like a high-pressure hose.

Asoo points to a small bowl and indicates to bucket it out. I do it quickly with the water pooling around my ankles, not watching ahead.

“Stay low,” he warns. I fall forward when the boat hits an embankment. “Stay low.”

Before I respond, he’s out of the curiara and heading toward a figure. Positioning myself on the seat, I look up to the rainforest surrounding the river’s edge except for the narrow bank of sand stretching for approximately one hundred and fifty feet.

I squint through the rain. Asoo has met with a man. He’s naked except for something covering his groin. His skin is a golden bronze. Not of indigenous heritage—skin changed by the sun.

I stand and raise a hand to shield my eyes. Like a switch, the rain stops. Blue sky peeks through the gray clouds dispersing as quickly as they formed. My breath hitches on hearing a familiar voice. The boat rocks with my ungraceful moves to clamber to the front. Ignoring Asoo’s warning, I jump onto the sand. With every step, the conversation between both men becomes clearer.

Asoo looks sideways and holds up a hand. He’s standing several steps away from the man as though it’s a safe distance between them.

The stranger’s head snaps in my direction.

His eyes pop.

I still.

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