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Back Whirlwind Save as PDF
Chapters (95)
  1. Title Page
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. 85
  87. 86
  88. 87
  89. 88
  90. 89
  91. 90
  92. 91
  93. 92
  94. Also by DAVID KLASS
  95. Copyright Page

When we get back with our fruit, I see that the other work crews have been busy. There’s a roaring fire going. I can’t begin to describe how comforting a big fire is with the darkness of the Amazon all around us. Enormous leaves have been interlaced to form a sleeping platform. Someone’s even managed to spear a few fish, and they’re sizzling away on spits.

I must eat a dozen or so of the fruits, not to mention my share of fish. I see Mudinho chowing down also, and flipping bits of fish to Gisco, who gobbles them up before they hit the ground. At least my old traveling companion still enjoys a good meal.

When we finish eating I realize that night has fallen. Darkness doesn’t really “fall” in cities, or even suburbs, but in the Amazon it comes down like the shadow of death itself. There’s a depth and density to the rain forest night—the billions of eerie sounds as creatures devour weaker creatures, the swampy smells that ooze off the river, the shifting shadows that joust at the edges of the firelight—beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

I try to be brave for P.J.’s sake, but the truth is the sounds make me jumpy, the smells seem to stick to my skin, and the shadows conjure up nightmares. I’ll be very glad when the sun comes up.

Guards are posted, and the other members of our group find places to lie down on the sleeping platform. Gisco and Mudinho curl up near the fire, and both of them appear to fall asleep within seconds. They seem to have blind faith that the people sleeping on either side of them will somehow protect them. I hope the old saying about there being safety in numbers is rooted in truth.

“Should we catch some sleep?” I ask P.J. “We have a big day ahead of us. I think there’s some space over there …”

But she takes my hand and draws me away from the sleeping platform, to the opposite side of the fire. “No,” she whispers. “I think it’s time for us to talk.”

54

54

On a rock by a fire in the heart of the Amazon I sit down next to my high school sweetheart and prepare to explain to her the details of exactly how I came to destroy her life.

We’re facing away from the fire, looking out at the shadowy bank and the wide, star-specked river. Every few seconds a fish breaks the surface to gobble an insect, and the ripples make the reflected Milky Way tremble and reshape itself. We’re sitting so close that our shoulders brush. I put my arm around P.J., but she gently undrapes it and enfolds my fingers in her own, holding my hand on her lap, keeping me captive.