Page 80 of Beautifully Wild

“You have plenty of malarial meds?”

“I do.”

He flicks open the case and grabs the paper and two pens. “I’ll arrange for Asoo to grab some supplies from my room at Canaima. Write your message for Asoo along with names, and I’ll make a list of supplies.”

Minutes later, he leads her toward the river to wait for the sound of the motor.

The tapping motor alerts them to its presence before the curiara putts around the bend, the gray-brown water streaming in a wide ‘V’ behind it. Asoo doesn’t wave out like he has on other days. Sensing his concern, Samuel waits on the bank, putting distance between him and the canoe when he mounts the sand. With balance and grace, he glides over the edge and lands only feet from Samuel.

“My friend needs you in Camp Sundown. A measles outbreak. Some children have pneumonia.”

“Are the people vaccinated?” Eden asks, her eyes filled with desperation.

“No.” He ponders his risk, the Ularans risk of contracting it. “Are the volunteers issuing antibiotics? Quarantining those who are sick and their families from the community?”

Asoo shakes his head. “My friend, I messenger. I sent to ask for help.”

“I can give you some of my supplies as I ordered more when I last visited Canaima. Is Doctor Robert still in the camp?”

Asoo closes his palms in a prayer gesture. “Yes.”

“Give me some time to gather my supplies. If he needs anything else, let me know. Unfortunately, I can’t help as I leave for an exploration tomorrow.”

“Already?” Eden asks.

“It’s a day early as we’re leaving with the warriors at the beginning of the hunt. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to you about it later. Give Asoo your message and explain what you need him to do.” Samuel takes off to the treatment hut, his thoughts whirling between Eden, his journey, and the news from Asoo. He hopes the outbreak is contained and not spread further into the jungle.

Twilight. Night. Dawn. Daylight. The time in the jungle never alters in the constant heat and humidity. The wet season exacerbates the humidity and the balance of life, with the challenge of finding sufficient food if the river floods the village.

He ponders how the Ularans believe this is in the hands of the gods.

This season the Ularans dodged upsetting the gods, the river only creeping near the outskirts of the village. The elders fear the next wet season to be worse. Plans are underway to build huts further away from the river and high off the ground in the trees. Samuel overheard an elder mention the spirit of the Kanaima in their village lives in the white sun god. He hopes the others don’t believe Eden’s presence will bring them bad luck.

Tonight, at twilight, he’s to prepare for the ceremony.

Eden has barely spoken to him since meeting Asoo. He can’t afford to be distracted by her now. She doesn’t understand the importance of his upcoming journey, especially tonight’s spiritual one with the guidance of the shaman to lead him to the rare flower. In truth, as much as his own journey has led him to this day—the pinnacle of why he is in Ulara—Samuel also wishes for it to be over so he can only be with her.

Night has fallen over the village.

The jungle choir on the highest volume barely distracts Samuel from his purpose. Small fires flicker in the round house, creating enough light to see the bowl of fluid handed to Samuel. He drinks the brew made from the ayahuasca vine. He gulps down several bowls, waits for the moment his stomach turns inside out to rid itself of the vile tea. The purging begins, a severe headache takes hold, and he loses the ability to stay on all fours. Curled in a ball, he holds his temples, the pain taking over until he moans and cries, his voice overbearing the harmonic song of the shaman.

Two soft hands cup his rough fingers. The voice of his angel whispering in his ear. “You’re safe. Go where you need.”

In his mind, his thoughts connect with the voice, psychedelic colors purging his brain when he feels his soul, and his spirit travels beyond his childhood memories into another dimension—a tunnel of bright neon light, a kaleidoscope of dreams.

He visualizes his life in rewind, and it quickly switches to fast forward to the future where he spreads his yellow, turquoise, and red feathers and takes flight on a path he has already traveled. An inner peace fills him knowing his body is in safe hands with not only a protector, more so with love surrounding his aura.

With her, he’s ready to take the journey into the unknown.

In the early hours of the morning, Samuel returns to his hut, passing Eden sleeping peacefully in her hammock. She disobeyed him again. He touches the side of her cheek and kisses her lips. “Thank you for your support,” he whispers. “I was grateful to have you there to look after me.” It was the first time he came to without any vomit on his cheek or shoulder. The shaman had revealed everything, including her washing him while he slept off the medicine. “I know you’re worried about my exploration. Afraid to be here alone. You’ll be safe. Kaikare will take care of you. Knowing you’re here will guide me home because you own my heart.”

She doesn’t move beneath his touch. Her breath is heavy with sleepy sighs.

Sighs he wants to hear when he sleeps beside her. He now longs for the day to hold her in his arms every night.

Sometime after dawn, Samuel gathers his containers and kit to hold the plants and fills his bag with food and bottles of water. Sources of water can be found in the jungle, but with the length of their journey, he needs to carry extra and have a bottle ready to collect it from the trees and bamboo.

Around his waist, a twine belt holds a pigskin pouch. Hanging from the twine are handmade darts, a knife, and in his hand, a long blow pipe doubling as a walking stick. A hammock is rolled into his backpack along with a mosquito net and Western medicinal supplies. For this exploration, he wears his sneakers because his feet haven’t adapted to the long miles, the damp jungle floor, and the torturous rock they’ll climb over for many days.

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