Wednesday Paul was not well enough to travel, so they lost another day. But by Thursday morning his temperature had receded, and although he was weak, he was able to walk.
Leaving the plane was like leaving home. They had slept there for six nights. At least it had been a base, a place of shelter. But it was now riddled with insects and unfit to spend one more night in.
They made a motley procession. Al in the lead, followed by Cristina, then Bernie, Paul, Evan, with Dallas bringing up the rear. ‘If we meet any wild animals,’ Al joked, ‘we’ll frighten them to death!’
Progress was slow, and it took them nearly the whole day to reach the stream, a journey that had only taken Al a few hours before. He detoured so that they wouldn’t have to pass the nose of the plane with its maggot-ridden occupants, and for a while he thought they were lost. But his sense of direction had not deserted him, and eventually they arrived at the stream.
‘We’ll stay here overnight,’ he said. They were all dripping with sweat and nobody argued. They dumped their back packs and collapsed on the mossy ground.
‘Watch out for giant ants,’ Al warned, ‘and snakes, and anything else that moves.’ He felt he was becoming quite an expert after having survived one night out in the open.
‘I’m going to bathe,’ Dallas said. She stripped down to her bra and panties and waded into the shallow water. It was heavenly. She lay down and let her hair loose and luxuriated in the tingling freshness of the water. If she closed her eyes she could imagine she was in Palm Springs playing about in the shallow end of a swimming pool. She tried it. It worked.
She felt Al watching her, and opened her eyes and grinned at him.
‘Why don’t you join me?’
She didn’t have to ask twice. He stripped to his shorts and was beside her almost immediately.
Cristina, swallowing her shyness about taking her clothes off in front of these strangers, followed.
Evan thought about it a bit. Should he? Shouldn’t he?
Would they laugh at his skinny body? Would his jockey shorts reveal anything? It looked so inviting. So what if they did laugh. He took off his clothes and got in.
Bernie, red in the face from the exertion of the trip, waded to the side, rolled his trouser legs up, and stuck his legs in.
Paul watched. His head throbbed. He wanted to join them, but he couldn’t muster the strength. The attack of fever had left him weaker than he cared to admit. He kept on thinking about his children – they were both so young – if anything happened to him… He lay on the ground and closed his eyes. It didn’t bear thinking about.
The bathe in the stream raised everyone’s spirits. For a few brief moments they could forget about where they were and just relax. A large frog stood on the bank and watched them. Tiny little fishes swam about in confusion.
‘Maybe we could catch a few,’ Al suggested, ‘I could just fancy a fry-up.’
Evan tried, but they were too small and fast for him. Cristina giggled at his efforts. It was the first time she had smiled since they had found her.
‘We had better get out now, the sun’s going down…’ Dallas said.
‘Wish I was,’ Al muttered.
‘Huh?’
He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear, ‘You’re never going to believe this but I’m feeling horny!’
‘Just now you were hungry…’
‘All my appetites seem to be at full tilt! Come on – let’s take a walk.’
They got out of the stream, dried off and dressed.
‘Dallas and I are going to survey the scene ready for an early start tomorrow,’ Al said, ‘we won’t be long.’
‘I’ll come,’ Evan offered.
‘No, son. You stay here – keep an eye on things. I reckon as tonight’s the first step of our journey we should celebrate and have anchovies for dinner. How about that?’
‘One tin,’ Dallas said sternly.
‘Between six of us? We’ll starve to death before we get to the other two tins. I say we open all three and have half a tin each.’
‘No. We’ve got to save what food we have.’
‘Shit – we’ll probably be out of here tomorrow – let’s go for broke and gorge on all the anchovies.’
‘No’, Dallas objected.
‘Yes! We’ll put it to the vote. All those in favour shove your hands up.’
Bernie’s hand shot up, so did Evan’s. Hesitantly Cristina joined them by raising her arm.
‘You’re outvoted,’ Al said, taking Dallas by the arm and picking up his blanket. ‘Hey, Paul, you going to eat?’
‘He’s asleep,’ said Bernie. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll save his share.’
‘Yeah – well, save ours too. We’ll be back soon.’
Bernie shook his head in amazement. Al King was certainly to be admired. Not content with getting them all together and marching them through the jungle like some kind of Messiah – he was now ready to knock one off! Unbelievable!
But, Christ – he had met his match in Dallas. She was some woman. Some incredible lady.
He sighed, and reached for the anchovies. What the fuck… If the two of them wanted to do it in the middle of the goddamn jungle then good luck to them. Where there was life there was hope – and God knows they could all do with a little bit of hope…
Evan watched his father disappear off into the undergrowth with Dallas, and he didn’t mind. For the first time in his life he felt he was seeing Al as he really was. A man who cared about other people. He thought about all the hate he had stored up towards this man. Hate and envy… It all seemed to have dissolved away.
It would have been so easy for Al to have left them all. He was far stronger than any of them, and not wounded. If he travelled alone he would make much better time, have a better chance. But he wasn’t leaving them… He was sticking with them… Helping them…
Evan was proud of having Al King for a father. He turned to Cristina; her damp curls surrounded a pinched, frightened face. She probably wasn’t that much older than him, he hadn’t realized that before. In fact he had not taken any notice of her at all, he had been too busy worrying about himself. But she was a girl. She was alone. It must all be a terrifying experience for her.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘Not so good.’ Her eyes were brimming over with tears.
He put a comforting arm around her, half expecting her to shove him away. But she didn’t, she moved closer to him and the tears slid silently down her cheeks. ‘It’s all my fault,’ she muttered. ‘Louis is dead and it’s all my fault.’
‘No, it’s not,’ he said in a kindly fashion. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself, really you mustn’t. Nino would have found a way to get on the plane with or without your help.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Do you honestly think so?’
‘Yes,’ he comforted, ‘I’m sure he would.’
She stopped crying. ‘Can I tell you about it? I must tell someone, it’s driving me crazy. You’ll understand, I know you will. Can I tell you from the beginning?’
‘Of course you can,’ Evan replied. ‘You can tell me anything you want.’
* * *
They didn’t stray too far from the others. They just walked a few minutes downstream, and then Al laid the blanket on a soft mossy patch of ground and took off his clothes.
Silently Dallas did the same. She lay down on the blanket and stared at him expectantly. Her ribs were badly bruised, but apart from that she had suffered only a few bites.
‘I’ll be gentle,’ Al said quietly, lowering himself on top of her. His lean body was a mass of bites, scratches, and little cuts that seemed to be healing.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, arching her body to meet his.
‘Yeah?’ he questioned. ‘That’s funny ’cos I love you too. Never thought I’d say that – to anyone.’ He entered her, and slowly moved back and forth. She moved with him, welcoming him into her body with a passion she never knew she possesse
d.
‘Tell me when you’re ready,’ he muttered. ‘I’m not as strong as I used to be!’
‘I love you.’
‘Christ!’ He shuddered. ‘I love you too. Chriiist! This must be a record! Son-of-a-beetch!’ He climaxed, collapsing on top of her, his body ridden with spasms.
She came immediately after him, sighing his name, raking his back with her nails. They rolled across the blanket still joined together.
‘God Almighty!’ Al started to laugh. ‘I haven’t come that quickly since I was in school! I just blew my reputation in one fell swoop!’
She laughed with him. ‘What reputation?’
He moved his hands appreciatively down her body. ‘When you haven’t eaten for a week I guess it’s got to affect your sex life. I feel like…’
‘Good, I hope.’
‘Pretty goddamn good. I’ve got sixteen flies dive-bombing my ass – and, hey – just a minute – how was it for you?’
‘Pretty goddamn good!’
‘I mean was it like you wanted it to be?’
‘It was beautiful, incredible, everything I knew it would be with you from the first moment I ever set eyes on you. I’m not too mad about the setting – but the event… Well… What can I say?’
‘I love you, lady. You know that? You know that’s something I’ve never told anyone in my whole life. NEVER. Sex was sex. A fuck was a fuck. Women were just something to stick it into – get rid of the dirty water – a joke. Wow – I am here to tell you I have humped in a lot of strange places in my time – but this…’
‘So have I.’
‘Don’t go trying to get one up on me.’
‘Who’s trying? I just am not very interested in hearing all about the places you’ve screwed in.’
‘You’re right. It’s past news. Jesus!’ He slapped ineffectually at his posterior. ‘I am getting killed! I don’t think these little mothers have had such a good meal in a long time. Come on, let’s get dressed and back while I’ve still got the strength!’
They both stood up, shaking their clothes out before putting them on.
‘Hey…’ Dallas questioned, wriggling into her jeans.
‘Yes?’
‘If we ever get out of this…’
‘Don’t say if – say when.’
‘When we get out of this… What do you want to happen with us, Al?’
‘I want whatever you want. We’ll be together – buy a house together – have fun together. You name it.’ He knocked a spider out of his shoe before putting it on. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’ll tell you if… when we get out of this.’
He stroked her neck, and said seriously, ‘I want to know now. Do you feel like I do? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?’
She buttoned up her shirt. ‘Yes, and the way we’re going it looks like I will. Come on – the light is fading and I’m not walking in the dark.’
‘Don’t be flip. I’m trying to tell you something. I’m trying to give you words… I need you. I love you. Understand?’
She nodded.
He stared at her. ‘As long as you understand… Christ! I could get another hard-on just looking at you!’
‘I look horrible.’
‘You’ll never look more lovely.’ He took her hand and they started to make their way along the side of the stream back to the others. When they were nearly there he stopped. ‘I want you to know,’ he said quietly, ‘that was beautiful.’
She kissed him. ‘Mutual.’
He grinned. ‘And now I’ve got a tin of anchovies to look forward to. This could turn out to be the best day yet.’
* * *
Friday morning they set off early, everyone in quite good spirits.
By noon they were sweat-stained and exhausted, moving slowly through the ever-thickening undergrowth, finding it difficult to breathe, under constant attack from the vicious horse flies and mosquitoes. To make matters worse, the stream, instead of getting bigger and leading them to a river, was diminishing in size, and becoming just a tiny trickle of water.
Al knew that the whole morning was wasted. They would have to go back the way they had come, and set off down the stream in the other direction. He was loath to suggest it. But it had to be done.
‘We’ll have to turn around,’ he said, ‘we’re getting nowhere fast.’
‘Can’t,’ Bernie gasped, collapsing to the ground. ‘Can’t take another fuckin’ step.’
‘Let’s have a break,’ Dallas suggested.
It was hours before Al could persuade them to move again, and then it was just a question of slogging back the way they had come earlier in the day. By dusk they were back at their original camping ground. This time none of them could summon the energy to bathe. They flopped out on their blankets after sharing a precious tin of caviar, and slept.
The expectation of getting out of the steamy jungle alive was slowly dying in each and every one of them.
Except Al. Nothing seemed to daunt him. ‘We’ll set off tomorrow at dawn,’ he told them. ‘It will be cooler then. OK, everyone? Want to see you ready to go bright and early.’
‘You missed your fuckin’ vocation in life,’ Bernie muttered grimly. ‘You shoulda bin’ a fuckin’ sergeant major!’
Chapter Seventy-One
By Wednesday Cody had booked himself and Linda on a flight to Rio. He picked her up at her apartment, and they drove straight to the airport.
Cody had not been sure how to handle the hotel reservations. Would Linda want to share with him? Or would she be furious if he booked them into the same room? In the end he had decided to play it safe and reserved two separate rooms. He made sure they were adjoining – just in case.
He wasn’t quite sure how to play it with Linda. He liked her tremendously, but she was so cool and independent – and he didn’t want to blow it by behaving in a way she might misconstrue. Since the plane’s disappearance physical contact between them had terminated abruptly. He understood. He wasn’t feeling exactly horny himself. But he hoped that eventually things could go back to the way they were. They had been at the beginning of what promised to be an exciting and maybe long-lasting affair. Relationships like that were few and far between. Hollywood was full of Carol Camerons. But how many Lindas did you come across?
The airport was crowded, people bustling back and forth meeting, greeting, hiring cars, buying souvenirs, or just standing around. Cody saw a couple of people he knew – a fellow agent who a couple of months ago wouldn’t have bothered to give him the time of day, and a minor actress who greeted him like an intimate friend. He could swear he had never met her before.
Linda walked over to the magazine stand to pick up the newspapers.
‘Who’s your friend?’ the agent asked admiringly. ‘I like her style.’
Proudly Cody followed Linda with his eyes. She did have a lot of style. She looked coolly chic in a white safari suit, her jet hair pulled severely back, and purple-tinted shades hiding her eyes.
‘Linda Cosmo,’ Cody replied, ‘a photographer from New York.’
‘Sure,’ said the agent enthusiastically. ‘I’ve seen her work. She’s got a six-page spread in People this week. I never realized she looked like that… You want to trade numbers?’ He indicated his actress, who, as if on cue, broke into a large toothy Californian grin and said in a flowing Southern accent, ‘You all know if they’ve cast a new Man Made Woman yet? I don’t usually test, but I got to thinking that maybe I might – you know – just for once. It’s a perfect part for me.’
Cody had yet to meet an actress who didn’t think every part written was the perfect one for them.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it’s a little early to start putting in a replacement.’
‘Early?’ hissed the agent. ‘You don’t think they’re gonna find that Dallas broad, do you?’
‘As a matter of fact I am flying to Rio now.’
‘Why – anything new happen?’
br /> ‘No – but…’
The agent laughed. It was more of a rude sneer than a laugh. ‘Chasing a dead client – come on – that ain’t gonna put shekels in your pocket. She’s dead, man – face it. That plane probably crashed into the sea – they’ll never find it.’
It was not the first time that this sentiment had been expressed to Cody – although perhaps not in such harsh terms.
His mother, over a cold fish dinner the previous evening, had clutched him warmly by the hand. ‘I think if she was alive they would have heard something by now,’ she offered. ‘Better she’s dead than in the hands of those foreign maniacs.’
The two theories given wide news coverage were either that the plane had strayed off its flight path and crashed, or that some sort of terrorist organization had managed to hijack it.
The crash theory was now gaining the most strength. The plane had been missing five days. If a ransom demand was to be made it would have been done by now.
Cody bid a curt goodbye to the agent and actress, and joined Linda at the newsstand.
She waved a newspaper at him. ‘Page three,’ she said in disgust. ‘From headlines to page three.’
‘It’s old news,’ replied Cody wearily.
‘If only we knew… Oh God… If only we knew…’
* * *
Jorge did not want to show the earring to Evita. Did not want to be forced to admit that perhaps he had been wrong – that perhaps Cristina had been sharing Nino’s bed. Evita’s positive identification of the earring would prove facts that Jorge did not wish to face.
Wasn’t it bad enough that his daughter was missing – probably dead. He couldn’t even begin to come to terms with that. Cristina was the best thing that had ever happened to him – an extension of his love for Evita – more, really, because while Evita was his wife, she was also a separate entity – another human being – a person from an entirely different background. Of course that didn’t bother him – never had – but Cristina was his own blood. She was all he had. She was the other children Evita had not been able to have. The son that was never to be.