Moriah watched in silence as the helicopter turned into a speck in the sky and the sound of rotors evaporated.
She heard someone cough, and realized it was Fusiwe trying to get her attention. She turned and looked at him—this man who had saved Ben’s life. Fusiwe wore nothing but a breechcloth. His hair was long and plaited down his back. Moriah glanced down at her blue jeans, sweat-soaked t-shirt and tennis shoes. In spite of her intense worry about Ben, if she was going to be under Fusiwe’s care, she thought it best to start things off on an honest footing.
“I’m dumb as dirt. I don’t even know how to feed myself here.”
“I know,” Fusiwe said. “Follow me. And do not touch anything!”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the tail of her t-shirt, picked up her bag, then obediently followed him, arms stiffly down at her side. Things had taken a turn she could never have anticipated. How would she know if they had made it safely to the hospital? What would she do if they didn’t?
In the meantime, her life pretty much depended on the man walking the path in front of her.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t even know he was sick.”
“Ben is my friend,” Fusiwe said.
“How did you learn to speak English?”
“Violet and Abraham teach me. Ben teach me Portuguese, too. It is the language of Brazil and valuable to know.”
“So you speak three languages?”
“Four. Ben teach me Spanish, too.”
“Four languages?” Moriah said. “Why?”
Fusiwe stopped in the middle of the path, turned around and looked at her as though she might be a little stupid. “To protect my people, of course.”
“How will learning all these languages help protect the Yahnowa?”
“Ben says knowing the language of the people around us gives us power. Especially if they think we are ignorant. My wife and my wife’s brother, Rashawe, learn too. We are not ignorant.”
“I thought you were still pretty isolated here.”
“Yes, for now. I fear we cannot be isolated much longer. The farmers eat away at our land. They clear it with fire and grow crops, but the soil is thin. It only supports a few plantings. Then it gets tired and the crops do not thrive. The farmers move on. Ben prepares us to survive in the future as well as give us a Bible translation.”
“Nicolas says you’re some sort of apprentice to the local witch doctor?”
The young man winced, then he turned and continued down the path. “The correct word is Shaman. Yes, I’m learning to be a healer. In our ignorance and need, my people turned to what you might call witchcraft. I am not interested in chants and magical spells, but I am interested in what there is to be learned from the old people who have much knowledge about herbs and plants.”
“Did I offend you?” Moriah reached out to touch an exotic-looking flower, but remembered at the last moment to jerk her hand back. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I am not offended, but I am tired. I care for Ben for two days. Before that my people need my help.”
He stopped outside a neatly built hut and called softly. A lovely young woman peeked out at Moriah with brown eyes as soft and lovely as a young doe.
“This is my wife.” Fusiwe wearily entered his one-room hut. “She take care of you.” He climbed into a hammock, closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately.
It was obvious that caring for Ben had taken quite a toll on the man.
“Hello.” Moriah wondered how much his wife understood. She had long, shiny black hair much the same as Moriah’s, but she wore little in the way of clothing except swirls of paint.
“You have green eyes!” The woman stepped closer, touching Moriah’s face. It felt strange having another woman caress her face, but Moriah thought perhaps it was one of those strange tribal customs she might have to get used to.
“A friend of my childhood had eyes this green. Ben says you are my childhood friend.”
Moriah’s eyes opened wide. “Karyona?”
The young woman nodded and smiled.
Moved beyond words, Moriah embraced her, paint and all.
“We always wondered about you,” Karyona said. “We worry about you many years.”
Fusiwe stirred restlessly in his sleep. Karyona looked at him with concern.
“Our voices disturb him. Should we go to Ben’s hut to talk?”
“Good idea,” Moriah said.
After they arrived at Ben’s place, they climbed onto his sleeping platform and continued their conversation.
“I would have gotten word to you if I had known.” Moriah stared at her friend in wonder. “But I had no memory of anything that happened here until a few months ago. Is your father and mother still living?”
“Oh yes. He is on a long hunting trip. My mother visits relatives in a different tribe. They will come back in a few days. Until then, we have much to talk about.”