CHAPTER 37

We followed Chaupi deeper and deeper into the rain forest. The trail took us over rickety boardwalks and a winding path through huge mounds of dirt and rocks.

“Left over from illegal gold mines,” explained Chaupi as he led us through the leafy forest.

“Speaking of gold,” I whispered to Storm, “are we still going the right way to find you-know-where?”

“Yes,” she whispered back. “In fact, there was a marking on the map suggesting that we would pass through a small village on our journey.”

“Cool!”

“But the symbol after that is one I don’t understand at all.”

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “It’ll come to you. It always does.”

My compliment seemed to surprise Storm. “Thank you, Bick. I hope it will.”

Finally, a very sweaty hour later, we arrived at a small cluster of homes made of bare boards. The thatched-roof shacks were bunched together at the edge of a muddy river. I was super-glad there was a covered shelter we could all squeeze into because as soon as we reached the village, it started raining.

“Our ancestors have lived in this clearing for many centuries,” said Chaupi over the pattering of the torrential downpour.

“However,” said the young girl Q’orianka, “we may not be able to live here much longer.”

Chaupi rested his hand on the head of the youngest member of his family—a son who looked to be maybe six years old.

“What my oldest and wisest daughter says is true,” he said. “With so many trees being cut down, the sun is much stronger than it was when I was a boy growing up in this valley. Now, the sun feels so close, it burns our skin. It is as if the sun god is angry at those who have ruined our land and taken away his gift of the trees. Without a canopy of leaves over our heads, the sun beats down mercilessly, drying out the fruit and the fishes and the birds, making everything so much smaller. Without the trees’ roots gripping the ground, the very earth is in danger of washing away.”

“It makes me wish the legends of Inkarri were true!” added Q’orianka. “That he would rise up from the dead and restore the earth to peace and harmony for the people of Peru!”

“Well,” said Mom, “I may not be able to rise up from the earth like Inkarri could, but I can most definitely stand up to the powerful logging lobby in Lima.”

As the rain kept beating down in unrelenting sheets, she told our hosts about the big rain-forest conference that was coming up at the presidential palace.

“Here in this village,” she said, “you are dealing with the consequences of deforestation on a daily basis.”

“This is why I must come with you to Lima,” said Chaupi. “And voice our concerns.”

“I would be honored to have you travel with me, Chaupi,” said Mom. “You will speak more eloquently than I ever could!”

“I just hope it is not too little too late,” said Chaupi.

That’s when his son shrieked and pointed uphill to a roiling wall of swirling mud.

“Flash flood!” screamed Chaupi. “Head to higher ground or you will all be washed away!”

Chaupi and his children led us up a hill.

Until a wall of water rolled over them and swept away his youngest son!