Page 72 of Beautifully Wild

He nods. Before dinner, he pointed out areas where she could relieve herself and didn’t believe she’d venture out in the dark.

“I used the light on my phone. Not that I’m going to be able to do it much longer since it’s barely got any battery left.”

“Your eyes will adjust.”

The hammock grinds with her movement. “In four weeks, I doubt it.”

“Can you see me?”

“No. My eyes are shut,” she snaps.

“Open them. Now, can you see me,” he asks in a calm voice.

Her dark outline adjusts position. “Kind of.”

“Close your eyes.” He stands beside the hammock and waits. He hears a sigh pass her lips. “Can you sense me?”

“Your voice leads me.”

“Concentrate.” His fingers hover over her body.

Electrical energy pricks his fingertips with heat radiating from her body to his hand. He wiggles each finger lightly, imagining the energy flowing back and forth joining them as one force. He pads in a slow motion, each foot lifting as though weighed down with concrete in an effort not to stir the air. Hand flexed, it follows the contour of her body as he moves.

“There’s a warmth rolling over me. I’m craving to be touched,” she whispers.

“Only focus on the energy between us, not how it makes you feel. Allow it to seep into your skin,” he says in a gentle tone.

He homes in on the sound of her breathing—slow and audible.

“It was selfish of me to ask you to stay, knowing I’ll be gone for a while. I’m sorry, Eden. I know my apology doesn’t mean much right now, but I promise to make it up to you when I return.”

“It does mean something,” she whispers.

He reaches for her hand. “I want you to try something… focus and remember this energy, how it flows between us. Feel me when I’m not around. Knowing you’re here gives me a source of vibrancy I’ve never known. Your spiritual force will guide me home.”

Soft fingers brush his hand before linking them in an unbreakable chain. “I feel you, Samuel. In my heart and all around me. Even when you left me, I could still feel you. Even though I’m not happy about being alone, I’ll do it. Know Icando it. Your spirit, or whatever you want to call it, guided me here. I’m not going to run away now.” Her grip on his hand tightens, “It’s odd because I haven’t felt this way about anyone, not even Ethan. I’ve been lying here sulking. Yet I know what we have is real even though it’ll be challenging. Part of me wants the challenge because I need it. So, while you’re gone, I’ll be okay because I’ll be finding out a little more about myself while I’m here.”

In a moment of truth, he forgets rules, lowers his head, and brushes his lips over hers. “Here, you’ll find a sense of power within and develop an ability to control your environment. Unlike the outside world, where material catastrophes happen every day and people feel they have no control over them, you can build what you need, and it changes your sense of value. Your sense of importance changes.”

Soft lips silence him. “My journey has already started.”

Fingertips skim the length of her body. Her breath catches in a sharp inhale.

“Good night, Eden,” he says before finding the treatment bed to stretch out on until dawn.

Securing the mosquito net around him, he listens to her breathing, the sound taking over his mind. Every breath giving her life offers him meaning. Eyes open or shut—it didn’t matter. He focuses on emptying his brain of useless images and on connecting with the sounds around him. The jungle screech is his mantra, and he imagines his own wings flying through the forest, the trees whispering, guiding him to the tepui, high up on the rocky mountain. It’s here the whispering stops, and he finds himself alone, no spirit to guide him on the tepui. At this point of his journey, it’s important he focuses on Eden. Her energy will guide him to the flower and back to her.

Samuel spends the morning in the long hut with the older men who basketweave. He’s drinking the tea, another day of fasting, and a day to weave a new hammock, the one he is making for Eden.

Samuel catches a fleeting glance of her while she cooks alongside Kaikare. He smiles at her and nods. After he checked on her several times this morning, the women shooed him away. It brings him joy knowing they are warming to her.

Tonight is another ceremony, one he hopes she understands. In a world where less is more, he’s not to explain matters. Her journey is her own to understand matters when they happen in the moment and not by preparing her mind for prejudgment to learn their ways. It’s the way he learned, and he wants her to experience it all like him.

Fascination has grown among the children. The girls want to learn to braid Eden’s hair. After lunch, the women paint her limbs with long red lines. He grins when they lift her beads to paint her chest and abdomen, her head shaking and her hands moving in a stop action. She settles on her back to be the surface for a temporary tattoo, the women eager to paint lighter skin and showcase their skill.

By evening, everyone gathers near the fire, the children up front close to the shaman to listen to the stories about their ancestors and the land.

Wide-eyed, the children huddle closer as the next story explains the anaconda.

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