City of the Beasts (7 page)

"Aren't you afraid of the Beast?"

"Everyone's 'fraid of it. But if it comes, Borobá will warn me in time," she answered, patting the little black monkey that was always with her.

Nadia took her new friend around the village, which, because there wasn't that much to see, took barely half an hour. Out of the blue came a burst of thunder and lightning that streaked across the sky in all directions, and it began to pour cats and dogs. The rain was as warm as soup, and it turned the narrow little streets into steaming mud pits. As a rule, people sought shelter beneath a nearby roof, but the children and the Indians went about what they were doing, completely indifferent to the downpour. Alex realized that his grandmother had been right to suggest that he change his blue jeans for the light cotton clothing she had bought him in Manaus; it was cooler and quicker to dry. To escape the rain, the two children ducked into the church, where they found a tall, husky man with white hair and the huge shoulders of a lumberjack. Nadia introduced him as Padre Valdomero. He wasn't at all what you expected in a priest; he was wearing sandals and no shirt, and was up on a ladder white-washing the walls. A bottle of rum sat on the floor.

"Padre Valdomero has lived here since before the invasion of the ants," was Nadia's introduction.

"I came when this village was founded, about forty years ago, and I was here when the ants came. We had to abandon everything and escape downriver. They came like an enormous black blob, unstoppable, destroying everything in their path," the priest told them.

"What happened then?" Alex asked, who could not imagine a town victimized by insects.

"We set fire to the houses before we left. Because of the fire, the ants detoured, and a few months later, we were able to come back. None of the houses you see now is more than fifteen years old."

The priest had a strange mascot, an amphibious dog that, according to him, was native to the Amazon, but a breed that was now nearly extinct. It spent a good part of its life in the river, and could keep its head in a bucket of water for minutes at a time. It acknowledged Alex and Nadia from a prudent distance, suspicious. Its bark was like a birdcall; it seemed to be singing.

"The Indians kidnapped Padre Valdomero. What I wouldn't give to have that happen to me!" Nadia exclaimed with envy.

"They didn't kidnap me, child. I got lost in the jungle and they saved my life. I lived with them for several months. They're good people, and free; for them, freedom is more important than life itself. They can't live without it. An Indian who is a prisoner is a dead Indian. He turns inward, stops eating or breathing, and dies," Padre Valdomero told them.

"Some versions say that they're peaceful, but others describe them as savage and violent," said Alex.

"The most dangerous men I've seen around here aren't the Indians, they're the people who traffic in weapons and drugs and diamonds and rubber, the gold prospectors and soldiers and timbermen who pollute and exploit the region," the priest rebutted. And he added that the Indians were primitive in terms of material goods, but very advanced on the mental plane. They were connected to nature the way a child is to its mother.

"Tell us about the Beast. Is it true that you saw it with your own eyes, Padre?" Nadia asked.

"I think I saw it, but it was night and my eyes aren't as good as they used to be," Padre Valdomero answered, tossing down a long swallow of rum.

"When was that?" asked Alex, thinking that his grandmother would be grateful for the information.

"A couple of years ago…"

"What did you see, exactly?"

"What I have told many times: a giant more than nine feet tall, which moved very slowly and had a terrible odor. I was paralyzed with fear."

"It didn't attack you, Padre?"

"No. It said something, then turned and disappeared into the trees."

"It said something? I guess you mean that it made noises, like grunts. Is that what you mean?" Alex insisted.

"No, son. Clearly the creature spoke. I did not understand a single word, but I have no doubt it was a spoken language. I fainted… When I came to, I wasn't sure what had happened, but I had that strong smell clinging to my clothes and hair and skin. That was how I knew I hadn't dreamed it."

CHAPTER FIVE
The Shaman

THE STORM ENDED as quickly as it had begun, and the night sky was clear. Alex and Nadia returned to the hotel where the members of the expedition had gathered around César Santos and Dr. Omayra Torres, who were studying a map of the region and discussing preparations for the journey. Professor Leblanc, somewhat recovered from his exhaustion, was with them. He had covered himself from head to foot with insect repellent, and had hired an Indian named Karakawe to fan him constantly with a banana leaf. Leblanc demanded that the expedition set off for the Upper Orinoco the very next morning, because he could not waste time in this insignificant little village. He had only three weeks to trap the strange jungle creature, he said.

"For years now, no one has been able to do that, Professor," César Santos pointed out.

"It will have to show up soon, because I am scheduled to give a series of lectures in Europe," Leblanc replied.

"I am sure the Beast will respect your timetable," said the guide, but the professor showed no sign of having caught the irony.

Kate had told her grandson that the Amazon was a dangerous place for anthropologists, because they tended to lose their reason. They invented contradictory theories and fought among themselves with guns and knives. Some of them tyrannized tribes and ended up believing they were gods. One of them, totally mad, had to be taken back to his country in a straightjacket.

"I suppose you have been told that I am a member of the expedition, too, Professor Leblanc," said Dr. Omayra Torres, whom the anthropologist kept glancing at out of the corner of his eye, impressed by her beauty.

"Nothing would please me more, mam'selle, but—"

"It's
Dr
. Torres," the physician interrupted.

"You may call me Ludovic," offered Leblanc flirtatiously.

"And you may call me Dr. Torres," was her curt reply.

"We will not be able to take you, my most esteemed doctor. There is barely enough space for those sponsored by
International Geographic
. Our budget is generous, but it has limits," Leblanc replied.

"Then your team will not be going either, Professor. I am an employee of the National Health Service. I am here to protect the Indians. No foreigner may come in contact with them unless the necessary preventive measures are taken. They are extremely vulnerable to disease, especially those carried by Whites," said the doctor.

"An ordinary cold can be deadly for them. One whole tribe was wiped out by a respiratory infection three years ago when journalists came to film a documentary. One of them had a cough. He gave a puff of his cigarette to an Indian and that infected the whole tribe," added César Santos.

At that moment, there were new arrivals, Captain Ariosto, the commander of the local barracks, and Mauro Carías, the wealthiest of the local entrepreneurs. Nadia whispered to Alex that Carías was very powerful. He had business dealings with the presidents and generals of several South American countries. She added that the man didn't have a heart in his chest but carried it in a totebag, and pointed to the leather case Carías had in his hand. Ludovic Leblanc, however, was greatly impressed with Carías, because the expedition had been organized thanks to his international contacts. He was the one who had interested
International Geographic
in the legend of the Beast.

"This bizarre creature has all the good people of the Upper Orinoco terrified. No one wants to go into the triangle where it is thought to live," said Carías.

"I understand that the area has never been explored," said Kate.

"That is true."

"I suppose it must be very rich in minerals and precious stones," the writer added.

"The wealth of the Amazon is found principally in the soil and in its forests," he replied.

"And plants," Dr. Omayra Torres intervened. "We don't know even ten percent of the medicinal properties they contain. As the shamans and native healers disappear, we lose that knowledge forever."

"I imagine that the Beast interferes with your business interests in that area, Señor Carías, just as the tribes do," Kate continued, who, once she got her teeth into something, did not let go.

"The Beast is a problem for everyone. Even the soldiers are afraid of it," Mauro Carías admitted.

"If the Beast exists, I shall find it. The man—certainly not the animal—has yet to be born who can elude Ludovic Leblanc," proclaimed the professor, who was given to referring to himself in the third person.

"Count on my soldiers, Professor," Captain Ariosto hastened to offer. "Contrary to what my good friend Carías has said, they are brave men."

"And you can count on all my resources as well, my dear Professor Leblanc. I have motor launches and a good radio transmitter," Mauro Carías seconded.

"And count on
me
to help with any problems of illness or accidents that may arise," Dr. Omayra Torres added smoothly, as if she didn't recall Leblanc's wish to exclude her from the expedition.

"As I have told you, mam'selle—"

"Doctor!" she corrected once again.

"As I have told you, the budget for this expedition is limited; we cannot take tourists," Leblanc stated emphatically.

"I am not a tourist. The expedition cannot proceed without an authorized physician and without the necessary serum."

"The doctor is right. Captain Ariosto will explain the law to you," César Santos intervened. He knew the doctor and evidently was attracted to her.

"Ahem, well… It is true that…" the captain stammered, looking toward Mauro Carías with confusion.

"There will be no problem if you include Omayra. I myself will pay her expenses." The entrepreneur smiled and put his arm around the young physician's shoulders.

"Thank you, Mauro, but that will not be necessary, my expenses are paid by the government," she said, gently freeing herself.

"I see. In that case there is nothing more to discuss. I hope we find the Beast. If not, the venture will be pointless," spoke up the photographer Timothy Bruce.

"Trust me, young man. I have experience regarding this type of creature, and I myself have designed some infallible traps. You can see models of my traps in my study of the Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas." The professor shot him a smile of satisfaction, at the same time gesturing to Karakawe to fan a little faster.

"Were you able to trap it?" Alex asked with assumed innocence, because he knew the answer all too well.

"It does not exist, young man. The supposed creature of the Himalayas is a hoax. Perhaps this famous Beast will be as well."

"People have seen it," Nadia declared.

"Ignorant people, no doubt, child," the professor scolded.

"Padre Valdomero isn't ignorant," Nadia protested.

"Who?"

"A Catholic missionary who was kidnapped by the savages and has been as crazy as a loon ever since," Captain Ariosto intervened. He spoke English with a strong Spanish accent, and as he was always chomping on a cigar, he was not easy to understand.

"He wasn't kidnapped and he isn't crazy!" Nadia exclaimed.

"Calm down, sweetie." Mauro Carías smiled and patted Nadia's head; she immediately slipped out of his reach.

"Padre Valdomero is actually a very wise man," César Santos interjected. "He speaks several Indian languages and he knows the flora and fauna of the Amazon better than anyone. He can set fractured bones, pull teeth, and once or twice, he has operated on cataracts with a scalpel he made himself."

"Yes, but he has had no success at all in cleaning up Santa María de la Lluvia, or in converting the Indians to Christianity. You've seen how they still go around stark naked," Mauro Carías mocked.

"I doubt that the Indians need to be converted," said César Santos.

He explained that the indigenous peoples were very spiritual. They believed that everything had a soul—trees, animals, rivers, clouds. For them, spirit and matter were one and the same. They could not understand the simplicity of the foreigners' religion; they said it was the same story over and over, while they had many stories of gods and demons, and spirits of sky and earth. Padre Valdomero had given up trying to explain that Christ died on the cross to save humankind from sin, because the idea of such a sacrifice left the Indians dumbfounded. They had no concept of guilt. Nor did they understand the need to wear clothing in this climate, or to accumulate wealth, since they couldn't take anything to the other world when they died.

"It's a shame they're condemned to disappear; they are an anthropologist's dream, don't you think, Professor Leblanc?" Mauro Carías's tone was mocking.

"That is true. Fortunately I have been here to write about them before they succumb to progress. Thanks to Ludovic Leblanc, they will live on in history," the professor replied, totally unaware of Carías's sarcasm.