Chapter 15: Silver Fever
The pain in his side was overwhelming, even worse than the time the snake tried squeezing him to death. Sebastian knew that they operated on him because he remembered seeing the doctor holding the bullet up, but after that there was nothing. Just whiteness. Lots of sleep and nothingness. He wanted to die. There was nothing left to live for.
His sleep was filled with disturbing dreams at first, all the bad moments of his life rolled into one long, unfocused nightmare. He remembered all his sicknesses, and the time his favorite dog died, and being left with his uncle with no hope of joining his father in the New World. All his childhood woes came to haunt him, throbbing in his memory just as the wound throbbed in his side. Every bad experience he had ever had clamored for attention, right up to the cannibals in the jungle and the disappointing news about his father. The doctor’s voice kept intruding: “Bad infection. Probably die. No way to treat it – all our medicines burned…”
Eventually, however, the dreams subsided and gave way to restful sleep. Somewhere in his subconscious, Sebastian realized that he did not want to die. Every bad moment in his life had its share of good moments, too. For every failure, there was a victory. For every loss, a gain. His months alone in the jungle had sharpened his survival instinct until it was sharp and powerful. What was there to live for? Everything! Just to be alive, just to experience life with all its ups and downs. He had his livestock. It might take many years, but he could rebuild their numbers. It was what his father would have wanted.
His father. Lately his dreams were crowded with thoughts of his father. The timbre of his laugh, the smell of pipe tobacco on his breath, vivid and painful. They were so real that they forced Sebastian to awaken from his deep sleep.
Even awake, however, Sebastian thought he was dreaming. “Father?”
“I’m here, son.” Don Segovia laughed and cried at the same time, embracing Sebastian with strength.
The sun was bright on Sebastian’s face, and it reflected off white sheets in a white room. He thought he was in heaven. He turned to see the image of his father better. As he did so, the healing wound in his side tweaked, and he sucked in his breath. “Ow!”
“You’re awake now, right?” asked Don Segovia, taking Sebastian’s hand. “You haven’t really been awake for the past few days.” Tears splattered down his brown, leathery cheeks. “I thought I was going to lose you to that infection.”
Sebastian was confused. “But… they said you were dead… gone… you caught silver fever or something.”
Don Segovia laughed. “Everyone here has silver fever. It’s the madness that drives men to leave their families and homes and go chase a dream. I was infected, true. When they told me you were gone, I didn’t want to stay in Asunción anymore. My Guarani wife died in childbirth about the same time. I wanted to forget everything, so I signed on with a new expedition. But we found out that the Indians of the Chaco were planning an attack on Asunción, so a few of us left the expedition to come warn everyone. It looks like we were a day late.”
“But you’re here!” Suddenly, Sebastian had strength to laugh. He tried to sit up but fell back on the pillows instead. Then he noticed a heavy weight on his feet. Yagua lifted his head in acknowledgment, then lay back down to finish his nap.
“That dog hasn’t left your side,” Don Segovia said. “Except once, a few days ago, to help us round up the animals that escaped the fire. He’s a fine herder.”
Yagua thumped his tail at him.
Sebastian reached down to pet the dog. “He really is. I think he’s more Arazunú’s dog than mine, though. Up ‘til now, I thought he just stayed with me because I fed him.”
“Maybe he’s here now because it’s the most comfortable place, then?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Or maybe, he really does like me, and I could give him a chance.” He patted Yagua again, then asked, “When can I come home with you?”
Don Segovia blinked his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “The house burned to the ground, son. There’s nowhere for you to go. We’ll be living in the barn until I can earn enough money to build another house.” He patted his son’s hand. “Don’t you worry, though. Selling the bull will buy all the bricks we need.”
Sebastian’s breath came out in a sharp exhale. “Oh!”
“You hurting?”
“No,” he replied. “It’s just that I kept him alive all this time. It doesn’t seem quite right to sell him all we’ve been through.”
“That’s life sometimes,” his father said, tears flowing again. “Never quite the way you planned it. I’m so sorry, kid. For everything. You must be so disappointed in me.”
“Never!” Sebastian struggled to sit up, shocked at such an idea. “If anything, I think I understand you better.”
“You... you do?”
“Trust me. None of my plans worked out, either. Luck - that’s what kept me alive.” He grinned, thinking about how much he had changed in the past few months. “And don’t worry about the house. Have you ever tried a hammock?”
“Hammock?”
“I’ve learned a few tricks of my own.” He grimaced as his wound sent a sharp dagger through his side.
“And you can tell me when you feel better,” his father said. “Listen, they said you might be thirsty. Are you? Or hungry?” He held up a mug of water. “I hardly recognized you, son. You’re so… thin, and tall, and strong.”
Sebastian drank greedily. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Four days, on and off. Whenever you were awake we’d spoon broth and water into you. You haven’t eaten much, though.”
“We?”
“Your Indian friend. He stepped outside for a few minutes. I’ll let him know you’re awake.” He stood, then smiled at his son. “That’s a good friend you have, Sebastian. Smart, witty. Loyal. You’re very lucky. Plus, that kid knows more about medicine than Doc does, especially about all the plants and stuff growing around the colony. I wouldn’t be surprised if Doc takes him as an apprentice, if he’s willing.”
“He wants to be an attorney.”
“An Indian attorney?” For a moment, Sebastian was afraid that his own father was going to say something derogatory toward Arazunú, but he did not. “Hmm. I know some people who might be able to help. I’ll see what I can do.”
Sebastian nodded, satisfied. “I guess I am a little hungry...”
“Excellent. Wait until you try the chipa so’o - it’s a local treat. Cheese and corn in a sort of bread. I’ll go get you some.” Don Segovia headed for the door, then turned back. “I’m so glad to see you, kid. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He gave his son a gruff kiss to the forehead before leaving to find food.
As if Sebastian had the strength to leave the bed! He watched his father’s frame disappear through the doorway, then closed his eyes for a quick rest.
Moments later, the soft tread of Arazunú’s bare feet told him he was no longer alone.
“Wake up. I know you’re not sleeping,” said Arazunú, sliding something cold and round into Sebastian’s hand.
Sebastian grinned and opened his eyes. It was a gold bracelet, intricately decorated. “What’s this?”
“I know you’re still angry at me for making you give away your mother’s jewelry. So I wanted to give you something in return. I know it doesn’t have the memories, but it has all the value.”
“It’s great,” Sebastian said. “Where did you get it?”
“I guess news of the Indian attack has been going from tribe to tribe for several months now. The Chaco Indians came all the way down to attack Asunción. It seems that my people came up from everywhere surrounding Asunción to help protect it. Anyway, my father was here with my own people! He usually never wears the gold pieces they stole from the land to the west, but he did this time. He recognized me. And there was a feast and there will be another one when I go home to see my mother and brothers and sisters. They’re all still alive!”
Sebastian
had never heard Arazunu speak so much at one time. “I’m so happy for you.”
“So I told my father about you and about everything you’ve been doing. He has agreed to let me return to Asunción if ever I want to – which I think I will. And he gave me the bracelet to give to you, as a token of his thanks for escorting me home.”
“I didn’t do anything. You were the one who kept me alive out there.”
“Shhh. Your shamans say you’re too weak to talk. So just listen.” Arazunú’s eyes shone brightly with mystery. “Do you remember the surprise I wanted to give you when we got home?”
Sebastian nodded.
Arazunú leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I don’t understand your tax laws, but I know that anything you find of value, you must pay one fifth to your king. I don’t want any of this going to your king.”
“What are you talking about?”
Arazunú continued to whisper. “Many years ago my father and some of the people of our village went with your explorer Alejo Garcia on a treasure hunt to the land far in the west. The Spaniards brought back large amounts of silver and gold and precious gems, but they gave some to my people for being the guides. That was years ago. Our share has been sitting in a cave since then. My people are too afraid to use it for fear that your people will think we have even more. Either that, or other tribes will come kill us and steal it. And we have no real use for it.” He paused. “So I spoke to my father and we want to give it to you. All of it.”
“All of it? Are you sure?”
“It has only brought us trouble. At least, in your hands, it will do some good - as long as nobody knows where it came from. My people think it’s cursed anyway.”
“So how much is there?”
Arazunú flashed his white teeth. It was the first smile Sebastian had ever seen from him. “Enough to fill your knapsack. Maybe more. It’s a small price to pay for saving my life twice.”
Eyebrows raised, Sebastian could only stare at his friend, overwhelmed. They wouldn’t have to sell the bull after all!
Arazunú frowned. “What’s wrong? I thought it’s what all Spaniards wanted.”
“No, it’s great. It’ll help us rebuild our home. I just realized.. I’m here, my friend. In Asunción - the end of my journey. I made it. And now you’re leaving. Will I see you again?”
Arazunú crinkled his eyes at their corners. “You have to come claim your treasure when you’re feeling better. We won’t give it to anyone but you.”
“I didn’t mean for a quick visit. I’ll miss you.”
“You walked all the way from the mouth of the Great River, and now you’re worried about a short hike?” Arazunú clasped Sebastian’s hand. “Nothing can keep brothers apart. Not even distance.”
Brothers. Sebastian’s throat constricted at the title. He understood the tremendous honor bestowed upon him. “In that case,” he said, squeezing his friend’s hand in return. “what am I worried about?”
Don Segovia returned with a plate of cheesy yellow cornbread. He offered a piece to Arazunú. “Your father’s here. He’s waiting outside with the rest of your men.”
“Thanks,” said Arazunú. He turned back to Sebastian. “We’ll stay long enough to help you build your house. Then you can come visit mine. See you soon.”
“See you,” he replied.
“I can’t wait to hear your story,” Don Segovia said, settling himself in the chair beside Sebastian’s bed once more. “By the way, son, welcome home.”
Home - his greatest wish. His father was alive and well, he had a loyal dog, and he had a brother. Together they would rebuild the house on this land that had become such a large part of him. This land with its red soil and brilliant green leaves, with its large spotted cats and sweet muddy waters... This land that he loved, yes loved, with all his heart. And wasn’t that what made it home, after all? Welcome home, indeed! He nestled back in his pillows, his thoughts filling not with memories of the past, but of the great adventures yet to come.
THE END
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Learn more about the author and her other novels at https://www.emilyasad.com
Other published titles by Emily Asad:
The Jester of Corona (PublishAmerica 2002)
The Juggler’s Journey (Hard Shell Word Factory, 2005)
Learn more about Paraguay and its history at www.ProjectParaguay.com or www.ParaguayHistorica.com Or if you’re interested in Paraguayan soccer history, try www.Albirroja.com Happy researching!
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