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Eleanor, Chapter 9This story may contain adult content. |
| Written by mick beville | |
| Tuesday, 05 August 2008 | |
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Almost one thousand miles upstream from the Atlantic estuary of the mighty Amazon, an exhausted Captain Ryan manoeuvres his cargo of metal containers towards port. His ship the ‘Southern Cross' must share the moorings with passenger ships, tourist boats, and small traders. The floating iron raft that is Manaus dock was imported from England almost one hundred years earlier and with no modern container cranes or hook ups, Captain Ryan will shoe horn his twenty foot metal containers where ever he can find space on the dock. Manaus is a city of one and a half million inhabitant's and lies in the middle of the Amazonian jungle, and like a *****, Manaus opens itself to all takers. This jungle ant's nest boasts a duty free status that has already attracted multinational companies from every corner of the earth. Aromatic prawns, garlic and samba music dominate the city streets as the army of shoppers take advantage of prices that are half that of anywhere else in Brazil.
Brothers Paulo and Beto were no strangers to Manaus. Paulo had worked in a factory here. But as the city crept slowly towards them, Nanny was overwhelmed. "Stop per favor." He screamed in panic. Paulo quickly steered the old ford truck onto the side of the road and stopped.
"It's alright Nando" he said, "Just take a deep breathes. Try to relax". A native Indian Nando lived on the banks of the Rio Madeira near the sleepy town of Borba and was related to Paulo and Beto by marriage. Nando was a long way from home in every sense. Paulo and Beto now lived and worked some forty miles north of Manaus at a logging camp on the shores of the Rio Negro.
"Maybe this is a bad idea" said Beto.
"No" snapped Nando angrily. "I will be fine. We came this far, I think we should get what we where sent for." Nando was referring to his family instruction to take the ‘cargo' to a remote location before opening it; then, and only then, would it become clear what he was to do with it.
To Paulo and Beto this was just another shot of the excitement their young minds and bodies craved. Nando regained his composure and with every second fear turned to amazement as he saw his first ever set of traffic lights, his first neon sign his first bus and his first multi-storey building. Trucks, cars, motor cycles, people, noise, litter and music; the frantic activity couldn't possibly be sustained; but it was, and as they neared the dock it had increased. Security and organization had managed to avoid the port of Manaus allowing Captain Ryan to dump his cargo quickly and without question.
"I can see it" Beto called out "Its up at the front, on the top... see the bomb sign." A large circular peace symbol had been marked in white paint as promised. Paulo's was concerned as to how he would get a twenty foot metal container onto the back of a truck that only had a fifteen foot tray... He shouldn't have worried... good fortune was about to smile on Paulo. Alongside him on the dock was a Volvo truck with its own container hoist, and the weight of the day lifted for Paolo, when the driver offered to load the container for him.
With a five foot overhang at the back and the steering wheels barely in contact with the ground, Beto and Nando held their breath as Paulo drove his cargo from the dock. The drive out of the city didn't raise a single eyebrow. After all, this was simply trade going about its business, on a frontier where state of the art Mercedes and Volvo's shared the potholes with forty year old Fords, donkeys and handcarts.
"I don't like Manaus" said Nando looking back.
"You would like the girls" said Paulo, with a smile, "they are beautiful... and believe me Nando... they know pleasures you never imagined." Nando wasn't going to be impressed with anything about Manaus; he was to busy filling his lungs with the oxygen of the forest. The sound of the forest was now audible above the Ford's engine and leaves as big as footballs floated down from the canopy. This was Nando's comfort zone; this was where Nando and his people had lived since creation. The rhythm of the leaves, the insects and the birds, they all sang Nando's song. Not once had either of them questioned their cargo. This was ‘importante' they were told, and for them that was enough. They had shared the same tragedy as teenagers.
Paulo and Beto had been working in the hills when they heard the news... ‘It was thre bandidos' the villager had said. ‘And they showed no mercy. Bang... bang... bang... bang... then they cut their throats, like the ‘bode'. Beto and Paulo had wept as they buried their mother, sister, father and eight year old brother. Nando had had lost his wife of less than one year.
The slow tense journey, took them almost eight miles along the logging trail, before reaching the sudden and spectacular one hundred foot sheer drop, that was the west bank of the Rio Negro.
"Now we will know" said Paulo, and looking around they all agreed that this was a good place. "Beto... tie the rope to the rock while I turn the truck around" ordered Paulo. Beto was used to taking instruction from his older brother but the rock he referred to was slightly overhanging the deep bank and he hesitated. Nando showed no such fear as he took over the task.
With the truck now facing away from the edge, Paulo tied the free end of the rope to the bottom of the container. "Gosto' said Paulo pulling at the hitch. "Beto... you drive the truck, and be sure to select a low gear." Nando and Paulo waited in anticipation as the old Ford took the strain. There was no question in Paulo's mind that the rope would hold. At over one inch thick and designed for tree felling, this was as good as ropes got, but after stalling the engine twice, Beto was ordered out of the cab. Paulo reversed the truck himself, making almost eight foot of slack on the rope. Aggressively he put the accelerator to floor and at maximum revs he dropped the clutch... The truck roared forward, pulling itself out from under the container.
"Excelente... excelente" cried Beto with pride.
Nando was the first to strike the pick at one of the two locks that held the container doors. Beto, anxious to be involved insisted he break the second lock. If there was a rush to break the locks there certainly wasn't a rush to open the container doors... Maybe it was the fear of the unknown that held them back... who knows... but Nando Paulo and Beto stood for almost one minute waiting for each other to make the first move
"I guess we should do this" said Paulo. The large doors were less than half open when the sickening stench of **** hit their senses. They could see a large car with the words ‘ **** you' scrawled all across the back window in human ****... the side of the car likewise were smeared in ****. It would take a short amount of time longer to realize that the author must be inside.
"Don't look at me, I'm not going in." said Beto with a mixed look of fear and disgust on his face... There then followed a few more tense seconds of silence, before Nando, without a word or a flicker of emotion entered the container. The rear door of the car was already half opened as Nando reached inside.
"Get some water... he's alive..."he called. Beto brought the container of water as Paulo helped drag the limp body of a man into the open air.
"What is that on his face?" asked Beto.
"Its ****" said Paulo. "He's wiped it everywhere"
Nando took the water container and poured a little in his mouth but there was no reaction. He poured some more, but this time onto his face and started to wash the **** with his hand. He washed gently at first, but like a miner that was washing the revealing dirt from a gold nugget, Nando became obsessed. "It's him..." he cried, as he washed frantically.
"Calm down Nando" said Paulo. But Nando didn't calm down. Instead he jumped to his feet and paced back and forth like a man possessed.
"Who is he?" asked Paulo. Nando was now pushing down on his chest. "Nando who is he?" Paulo asked again. But Nando was too occupied to answer. There was a cough... and then another cough... Nando rolled him first onto his stomach and then onto his back again. Paulo and Beto watched as his feeble eyes finally opened and searched the air for sanity... but as he looked into Nando's eyes he could see no comfort.
"You remember me, Mister Johnson... I don't think so" said Nando, answering his own question. "I was just a boy when you came for the orquidia... I helped carry your bags... Do you remember Maria, Mister Johnson..?" again Nando answered himself. "I don't think so. Maria was an inocente; she was my life Mister Johnson... You took away my life." Johnson said nothing, but would realize where he was and why...? He recognized the familiar sounds of the Amazon and he recognized the name ‘Johnson.' Johnson had seemed such a benign alias when he chose it, but he didn't want to die with someone else's name. He tried to tell his executioners who he really was, but not even a whisper would cross his lips. Turning to Paulo and Beto Nando pulled a hunting knife from his belt. "You should do this," he said, offering the knife to Paulo. Paulo stepped back in fear.
"I can't do it" he said. "Nando please, let's just leave him here, he'll die soon enough."
"No..." snapped Nando, "We are men, and we will finish or task like men... We will do this together. Help me to put him back inside" The emaciated body didn't require three or even two men to move, but to Nando it was important that they did this ‘together' and it was ‘together' amidst the stench and the flies that they placed him on the floor and closed the metal container. Nando took the pick and started to make holes in the sides of the container with the sharp point. "Let me have a go" said Paulo and with a new found enthusiasm took the pick from Nando and continued to puncture the metal skin.
"What now" asked Beto?
"Now we have fun," said Nando climbing in the driver's seat. Nando selected the reverse gear before reaching out his hand to Paulo and Beto. "Together" he said, with a questioning look of madness in his eyes... The first to take his hand was Beto. "Together" he repeated and Paulo followed. Nando smiled as he drove like a madman, crashing the rear of the truck into the container. He selected first and drove forward again. Taking a longer run this time, the truck knocked the container almost six feet closer to the edge of the cliff. It took two more big hits before the container was left teetering on the edge. Nando stopped the truck. "We should finish this like men" he said, climbing from the truck to see the container hanging out over the sheer drop to the Rio Negro below. "We can do this" he said. "We have been offered this special moment... do we have the strength to take it?" As Nando finished speaking there was a scraping followed by a tapping sound from inside of the container? "He's still alive," said Beto standing back.
"I can hear him" said Paulo. "He saying something" Nando was getting frustrated "Together" he shouted as he pushed with all his strength. Paulo and Beto joined him and the container started to rock; just a little at first, then slowly the momentum grew until they could not reach the underneath for fear of going over with it and for several seconds as they held their breath it perched motionless on the edge... Then slowly it crept forward to start its uninterrupted free fall to the water. At first it appeared to float with the buoyancy of a ping pong ball, but within ten minutes they would watch it disappear beneath the mighty waters of the Rio Negro. Copyright 2008 mick beville |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 05 August 2008 ) |
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