Trees Hold Up the Sky 15 William James Johnson

Struggling to maintain her balance, Estrelle held tightly as the small boat was tossed in the foaming water. Jerking it from side to side, the zambo steered around the underwater shoals, desperately fighting the powerful current, following the shore as closely as possible. The violent white water roaring down the mountains, made the short journey to Arumba's village extremely dangerous. Dense jungle growth overflowed the banks. Roots of trees sprouting out of the river's edge, threatened to tear the bottom out of the small craft. Alligators sunning, splashed into their churning wake. Screeching their warning calls, brilliantly coloured birds, darted through the green canopy.

Two hours after leaving San Fernando, the native turned his boat into a calm tributary of the Orinoco, narrow enough in places to reach both sides with extended arms. Mosquitoes and other flying bugs too small to be seen, began to plague them. Unaffected, the zambo smiled at their attempt to rid themselves of the noxious creatures.

Where the river widened, they saw several mud huts with thatched roofs surrounding an open area. Steering skillfully, the native cut the motor and let the boat drift silently towards the rickety wharf. Several small children came running, eager to tie up the boat, and help Estrelle ashore. A few, recognizing Hank from previous visits, tugged at his trousers, hoping to be acknowledged.

Slowed by the crowding children, they made their way to Arumba's hut. Women working alone or in groups, glanced shyly at the visitors, keeping an eye on their young ones, occasionally shouting guidance in Chibcha. Their escort pushed aside the large leaves and entered the leader's door while they waited to be announced.

The fronds parted, and a black zambo, about six feet tall, with a fearsome expression, came out to greet them. Dressed in a well-worn camouflaged fatigue jacket, grenades hanging from both breast pockets, and a long panga hanging from his waist, Arumba was intimidating.

"Welcome back Doctor Henry."

"Thank you Chief. May I introduce my associate, Miss Estrelle Garvas."

The big man took her hand and gently squeezed it.

"You are an American Miss Garvas?"

"I'm a native of Colombia."

"None of us is a native of Colombia, except the few Chibchas who were not destroyed. As you can see from my colour, I am a native of Africa, and you my friend, are probably a native of Spain."

Estrelle would not let him provoke her. "I am a third generation Colombian, and I consider myself a true native of this land," her voice getting stronger as she spoke.

"What is this...a woman who speaks her mind?"

"Estrelle is an archaeological student from Bogota assigned to us by Secretary Obispo," explained Hank.

"Garvas from Bogota...Would you know Enrico Garvas?"

"He is my father."

"Pity."

His remark surprised Hank.

"Why's that Chief?"

"I knew her father very well. Before Obispo asked me to come here to help with the Drug Brigade, I used to work with your father in his investigations."

"So what happened?" asked Hank again, now anxious to hear the whole story.

"Obispo sent him to prison. He got mixed up in some drug deal..."

"That's not true," proclaimed Estrelle, ready to defend her father.

"Are you saying Secretary Obispo lied?" asked Arumba, a wry grin as he felt he had penetrated her defense.

Estrelle realized she might be endangering her father if she debated with the zambo.
"The cocaine he had, was seized in a raid. He was going to turn it in as he'd always done before. No one would believe him. That's what happened."

"Maybe. I've never met anyone caught with illegal drugs who has any idea how it happened. They've all been framed."

"My father never said he was framed. He just wasn't given the chance to be heard. It was shameful what they did to that poor man."

"I am sorry for your father. But you know yourself how wide spread this drug problem is. Sometimes I think we are becoming paranoid about it. It is a devastating disease which seems determined to alter the lives of all our people, even the simplest native living in the jungle. Everyone in Colombia eventually is touched by the white poison. Your father got caught. It's most unfortunate."

"I read a recent story in Time that because of the drug problem, Colombia has the highest per capita murder rate in the world," said Hank.

"Over twenty thousand in this past year," confirmed Arumba. "It's a real war and neither side is winning. Obispo is doing whatever he can to get it under control, but so far, it keeps growing. That's why he had to make an example of your father."

"But my father wanted to help crush the drug traffickers. He was loyal to the Interior Secretary, and look what he got in return."

Estrelle could see by the expression on Hank's face she should let the subject die. She wondered what they would say if they knew the real reason Obispo had put him in prison, and how he had blackmailed her into coming on this expedition.

"But it's not drugs that brought you here," said Arumba.

"That's true. We're going to be returning to the cave, and I'm going to need your help," said Hank.

"There's a lot of talk about this cave. Some even say you've had a couple of men die because of it. Is that true?"

"Yes. Two of my men were exposed to the unique radiation from the cave wall, and it was so severe they have died. But that will not be a problem for your people. They will not be expected to go into the cave."

"And your own people?"

"Now that we know how devastating the radiation is, we've come with protective clothing for our scientists. It shouldn't be a problem now. What I need is help from your men to return to the site and get our new equipment working."

"Now that Barbarosa is dead, I don't see anything to stop us. How many will you need?"

"Ten."

"Only ten...? The last time we worked together, you used thirty of my zambos."

"We're not going to be trekking overland this time."

"Oh! How do you expect to get there?...Fly?"

"That's right."

"But there's no place to land."

"We're going to take a large helicopter, and lower your men as close to the cave as possible to clear a landing pad for us."

"What do you mean...lower my men?"

"This machine is equipped with winches on each side, which we're modifying so that men can be lowered by them. Once on the ground, they'll have to clear the trees and debris for the helicopter to land. With the new recording devices we've brought from Washington, we should be able to get all the information we want out of the cave in a few weeks."

"My men wouldn't be interested in going to all that trouble for just a few days' pay. I'm sorry Doctor, but you'll have to get somebody else."

Hank was surprised at his response.

"I'll pay them the same as I would if we had to take the longer land route. Is that better?"

"Better...but not good enough. My men know nothing about flying. Some of them are even frightened by these machines. We'd have to be given more money before we'd take such risks. Look around you. These men have wives...children...What happens to them, if a father is injured in this plan of yours?"

"Your concern for the safety of your men is commendable. We can't do our work without their help. Would you feel better if I promise to insure them. My government will see that their families are given money to help them live if anything should happen to one of your men. I really need your help Chief."

"I know you do Henry...and I really want to help. I know my men could use the money. You have no idea how difficult it is looking after them, trying to keep them out of the drug business. I only wish we could get back to living off the land, protected by our marvelous jungle, letting our children grow up in this paradise without the destruction of drugs."

"Then you'll do it? You'll supply me the men I need?"

"Yes Henry...I'll do it. And if you'll let me, I'll come too."

"Of course you can come. I'd be very happy to have you with us."

"I want to see this cave for myself. It must be very important for a country as great as America to send it's best scientists to study it."

"We don't know much more than you. All we have learned so far, is that the cave writing was done about five hundred thousand years ago, and we're going to try to find out what message, if any, was put there by our ancestors."

Arumba extended his hand. "Then we have a deal. When do you need my men."

"You can start selecting them now. I'd suggest you make sure they're strong and courageous. The work's going to be difficult."

"All of my men are strong and courageous. They have to be, to live in Colombia in these times and be able to turn their backs on the rotten drug business."

"I'm sure they are. Have them report to San Fernando sometime in the next week to begin their training."

"Training! What training?"

"We want to be sure they're able to descend by winch, and we'll be clearing some practice sites to get an idea of the amount of time it takes. We've got several other things to teach them as well, including the use of electronic equipment as back up technicians if anything happens to our regular people."

"Then you're really talking about a major project, not just a one week stint."

"Precisely. We won't be heading for the cave until we're sure we're ready. Besides, Doctor Martin is going to require some time to practice flying the helicopter."

"I don't understand. Isn't Verez doing the flying?"

"The Captain is very sick in Bogota."

"I'm sorry to hear that...And this man, the one you call Doctor Martin...Who is he?"

"One of the coding specialists I've brought from Washington."

"The one they call Jess?"

"That's him."

"They say Barbarosa almost killed him."

"That's true...But thanks to the loving tender care of Miss Garvas, Jess is fine again."

"This man is a pilot?"

"Yes...with lots of hours of combat flying in Viet Nam. You'll like him. He's a real nice guy."

"Your request gets stranger by the moment. I'm supposed to provide you with men who are unafraid of flying, to be lowered on a cable in a jungle to clear a landing place for you. You say the pilot is a man who has been in a coma for weeks, who has to learn how to fly this special machine...My God Henry! You ask a lot."

"I know. But I don't ask the impossible."

Arumba turned to Estrelle. "Are all Americans like this?" smiling as he asked the question.

"I only know one American, Doctor Jess Martin. If he says he can do something, he'll do it. That I know for sure."

"Then let us begin. I'll see you in San Fernando in a few days."

The return trip down river was much easier. Hank was pleased Arumba would be coming with his men on the mission. With him along, there would be no problem controlling them.

Estrelle was impressed with the zambo leader.

"He's not what I expected to find."

"Why's that?"

"He's more like the black men I've seen in your American films."

"Arumba is American. He's a graduate of Princeton, and used to be an attorney in Boston."

"Whatever made him leave all that to lead half-breed natives in a jungle?"

"Social conscience I suppose. His father lost his life during the civil rights marches in the fifties. His real name is Arnold Turner. But like Malcolm X, and Mohammed Ali, he changed his name after his social rebirth."

"Why not work for his people in his own country?"

"I guess he has a load of middle class guilt about his privileged way of life, and the only way to resolve it was to immerse himself in a missionary style of living. He really is a revolutionary. Obispo better keep a close watch on this man. If I'm not mistaken, he'll lead this country someday. He's not beyond doing what Castro did in Cuba. Money's all he's been lacking, and the way its rolling in with the drug trade, I'd say Arumba is right on course."

"But he sounds very bitter about the drug trade."

"Don't let him fool you. They all say that, but there's not one who isn't taking money on the side. Do you think Verez could live like he did on a Captain's salary? When one side gets enough money, you just watch. There'll be a revolution in Colombia like you've never seen before."

His mention of revolution gave her the opening she wanted.

"Henry, have you heard anything about the possibility of Russian intervention in our struggle?"

"Yes I have. Gonzalo was telling me a little about it, but I don't think anyone is taking it seriously."

But what would happen if a man with Arumba's intelligence, sided in with the Communists?"

The same thing that has happened wherever they intrude...civil war, followed by the establishment of a state controlled society. But I can't see it happening here."

Why not?"

The country is too vast, and still too underdeveloped. The Reds prefer to take over developed countries which have a solid economic base."

"Not always...what about some of those smaller African nations?"

"True. But I think the Kremlin has to admit, the cost of such ventures has made the overall attempt to establish themselves in Africa an economic debacle. It only pursued the smaller nations, so that it could threaten the larger countries. In a way, that's why they got themselves a foothold in Cuba. They wanted to establish their system in our hemisphere, and be in a position to threaten the U.S. This takes off some of the pressure we could have put on the USSR in Europe."

"So you don't think they're seriously interested in my country?"

"That's what I think."

"Then why is Jess back in San Fernando, studying Russian pilot instructions to fly a very expensive helicopter gunship?"

"I wish I knew."

She wanted to tell him about Obispo's conversation the night of his party but she wasn't sure if the time was right. She appreciated the fact that Hank had not pursued the reason her father was in prison.

The return journey took only an hour. The sun was setting and a cool breeze came off the fast flowing river, moderating the high afternoon temperatures. Even in the extreme heat of the summer, the high elevation at San Fernando de Atabapo gave a cold edge to the evening air.

She and Hank walked up the dirt road to the Granada and were greeted by Stuart as they entered.

"Did you get the men?"

"We sure did, and Arumba too," replied Hank.

"Great...Might be sometime before we need them."

"Oh...What's the problem?"

"Jess and Laura have been working on the manuals all day. She's finding the translation more difficult than she expected."

"I thought she might," said Estrelle.

"Why is that?" asked Hank.

"Languages is my forte, the same as Laura. But the translation of technical jargon is much more difficult than literary translation. I don't envy her the task. I'll go see if I can help."

As she hurried away, Stuart's eyes were riveted on her firm round bottom, straining the safari britches. Hank smiled as he watched the young man enjoying the view.

"Don't even think it."

"Think what?"

"She's Jess' girl. We sure don't need another triangle."

"But he's married."

"What's that got to do with it? She chose him."

"What the hell for?"

"Damned if I know. Laura's crazy about him too. Some guys have it, and guys like us will never know what makes them tick. You want to get your ashes hauled, try one of those young chibcha girls who work in the kitchen."

"I did. She didn't know what to do. I had to teach her everything."

"She was a virgin?"

"Like the mother of God."

"So what are you complaining about?"

"I want a woman who'll teach me for a change. Know what I mean?"

"Every man has that fantasy I guess...But that's enough daydreaming. Let's get back to the real world. You better get on the radio and let Obispo know that Arumba and his men will be joining us."

"You got it," said Stuart. "Oh Hank! If you ever find out where Jess discards his women, promise you'll tell me."

Hank laughed.

"You may have to wait in line."

"Why's that?"

"You'll be behind me."

They both laughed and went their separate ways, Stuart to the radio room, and Hank to report to Jess and Laura.

Read other novels by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.blogspot.com.

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