Page 87 of Beautifully Wild

43

Samuel

“Let’sdothis,”Samuelmutters to himself the following morning. The snacks inside his pouch are low, and the water in his bottle is almost gone. They need to find more sources and fast. They make their way up the steep wall to the surface, using branches for support as they clamber over rock and slippery moss. Hours pass, pausing only to sip mouthfuls of water from the drink bottle. Samuel swishes the water around his mouth before swallowing. Everything is now about preserving the energy, so the two barely talk and only focus on getting to the top. They use vines to climb or propel them upward.

The moment Samuel lifts his leg onto the plateau, he lays there a moment in amazement. The tepui surface reminds him of an alien planet. Black rock with a volcanic appearance similar to totem poles or dangerously long, horizontal fractures around a half-mile deep like narrow craters, slice into the plateau. It’s like nothing he has ever seen on earth. Walking over the treacherous surface is another challenge but hopefully the last before finding the flower.

In his mind, he visualized the journey, only he underestimated the demand on his body and has to dig deep to pick himself up and keep moving. He finds Tïmenneng kneeling on one knee assessing a bromeliad, his feet bloody and covered in cuts.

“Pyjai,” Samuel tells him.Medicine.

He drops his sack beside him and pulls out the leaves that clean and disinfect wounds. Samuel understands if bacteria gets in his wounds, the challenge of combating the infection is tough without giving him antibiotics.

Water sits in the rocky crevices beside them, not a lot but enough for him to dip the leaves and rub over Tïmenneng’s feet. Tïmenneng winces a little before regaining a stoic expression.

Samuel pulls out the last of the dried berries for them to nibble. They need a moment’s rest.

Sitting cross-legged on the jagged rock, Samuel closes his eyes and meditates for a few minutes to gain his energy. At first, his thoughts are blocked, and he sees only darkness. He curses, ignoring the lethargy weighing down his body and his mind. Visualizing the flower and the song of the shaman, his thoughts clear, and Eden’s voice finds a way into his head. “I love you,” she tells him in his dreams. Finding the flower will complete his purpose to the pharmaceutical company, and more importantly, free him from his demons so he can be with her. He looks to the sky with gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

Tïmenneng stands beside him and places a hand on his shoulder. He nods, ready to begin the last leg of the journey.

They trek over the rocky landscape, pushing thorny bromeliads and orchids aside to search for the purple flower. The sun moves across the sky above them, and he stands and leans back, his hands on his buttocks to stretch out his lower back. They push on, and he can’t help thinking his visions were misleading. Tïmenneng points to a cluster of flowers, the striking purple color is squished between the pink orchids. He runs to the plant and moves the orchids aside to examine the quality of the plant—the roots of the purple flowers clinging to a rocky crevice.

This. Is. It.

Samuel takes a single breath, and time stills. His past has led him to this moment—his destiny of finding what he has searched for, for many years. With shaky hands, he extracts the flowers with roots intact before sealing it in a weatherproof bag inside his sack. He turns in a full circle, stunned by the bleak, windswept summit where the rare exotic plant survives. There is minimal plant life near the fractures, and he understands water is responsible for the harsh erosion. He follows Tïmenneng to a rocky meadow abundant with more bromeliads, pitcher plants, and other carnivorous insect-eating plants. The bright red color catches his attention, the same as it would to insects that become prey and respects the plants’ diversity to survive. In the distance, green forests line the rocky edge of the mountain, and a river divides the land that feeds Angel Falls. The looming gray clouds tumbling toward tepui is enough for him to cease further admiration.

Time is suddenly of importance being as high as the clouds. They race against Mother Nature to seek protection from lightning and before the temperature drops dangerously low with an upcoming storm. Without clothes or blankets, the men run the risk of hypothermia if they don’t make it back to the cave before night falls upon them. Even with the flower in his possession, his duty isn’t complete. He made Eden a promise to return to her.

His body aches and his hands shake from exhaustion. The downhill climb is just as dangerous, yet he wants to push harder and lessen the days on his journey home because every minute steals valuable time away from Eden.

His mission, a success.

In his mind, a new goal blooms.

His heart is no longer divided.

All he visualizes isher.

44

Eden

IrememberwhatSamuelhad told me about quarantining outside the village and ask Asoo to explain to Kaikare our need to be cautious that we’re not carrying any viruses.

She agrees to stay with me in the small campsite Samuel erected, and I can’t help thinking like me, she’s not ready to face the shaman yet. After watching Asoo sail away with my iPhone, insecurity creeps back in. Stupid, since it could only take photos, provide time, and a light while the battery lasts maybe a few more hours. The photos were memories and a connection to home and my friends. With every passing day, I’m missing them more.

Alongside the river, Kaikare gathers Piri-Piri, a reed-like grass Samuel had explained was used for some basket weaving yet also had medicinal value. She digs up the rhizomes, carries them back to our camp, and grinds them with a rock. In a fast-twirling action of a stick on rock and dead matter, smoke sparks, and her hands cup to protect the small flame. She hands me a dirty clay pot and points to the river. First, I wash it, then return with it filled with brown water, hoping we don’t have to drink it. The ground rhizomes are scraped into the pot and placed on the fire. She rubs her stomach, and I nod, understanding her underlying nausea or nerves. While we wait for it to boil, she walks a short distance to bamboo, which appears to have grown overnight. Snapping several pieces, she hands me a piece, a source of clean water. I have no idea how far we are from the stream on the other side of the village. If I venture too far from the camp, I’m afraid I won’t find my way back. So, I take it, and she continues to snap more until we have quenched our thirst.

Sitting around the fire, she sings quietly to herself, the sound calming my erratic thoughts. Immediately, I’m thinking about Samuel.

Is he safe? I try to imagine what it’s like being out there, climbing a tepui with minimal assistance, catching your food at the same time as being the lower echelon of the food chain. She jabs a cup at me. I sip the earthy-flavored tea and pretend it’s coffee, ignoring the gurgling in my gut.

Dusk falls upon the forest, and I remain by her side, only to add fallen branches to the fire, knowing it’s the one mechanism of defense I understand.

Our smoke-perfumed hair and skin deter the number of mosquitoes circling our heads. When darkness falls, she stands as though cued and waves for me to follow her into the jungle.

“Really. We wait until it’s almost dark to go in there?” I question. I am finding I’m talking to myself more and more because the silence is beginning to frustrate me, and hearing my voice speaking English offers some sanity. “I’m really not a fan because well, you know, there’s this thing I’m conscious of… nocturnal predators… spiders and snakes. Oh, and we don’t have a flashlight.”

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