Page 60 of Hopelessly Wild


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“You.”

It’s all Eden says before turning on her heel and striding to the river bank without Samuel.

He jogs to catch up, and theputt-puttof a motor echoes from the trees on the riverbend. The sharp point of the curiara appears first, then Asoo’s smiling face comes into view.

“Samuel. Miss Eden.” Asoo waves his hand in a large rainbow arc.

Samuel stands aside when the point of the curiara rams onto the embankment. Wading into the water, Samuel takes the packages Asoo hands him and lays them on the sand.

Eden wanders out and stands near the edge. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I have mail.” Asoo scurries through his backpack and retrieves a wad of envelopes and hands it to Eden.

“One is for me,” she says with an elevated voice. She tucks the papers under her arm while she tears open the envelope. “Oh, Amy wrote to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Samuel observes her body language. When she giggles loudly, his stomach relaxes.

“Wait here while I deliver some of the boxes to the village. Chat with Asoo and read your messages. Prepare more texts to send for when Asoo reaches Canaima.” Samuel packs up several boxes to carry back to the village and leaves Eden with Asoo.

When he reaches his hut, he piles the boxes in the corner then breaks into a jog toward the river. Closer, the motor of the curiara purrs in the distance. Asoo must be eager to leave. He picks up speed, and before he steps beyond the trees, another curiara is cruising by, the driver looking at Asoo’s boat.

He darts backward and searches for Eden and Asoo. Fifty feet away, they both crouch behind trees and bromeliads, well hidden from the driver. The man steers toward the sandy beach—Samuel assumes it’s to inspect Asoo’s curiara. The hiss of a spear whirls out into the water and lands several feet from the boat.

A warning.

The driver curses and jumps to the side, ready to turn the boat in an arc. Another spear whizzes closer this time. Samuel turns to his right. Tïmenneng prepares another. Samuel waves his hand, slamming it to his side in a chopping action.

Tïmenneng places the spear at his side, then turns his focus to the imposter.

In a scurry, the Caucasian man turns the curiara, revs the motor, and then disappears around the bend.

Asoo uncurls and straightens. He yanks Eden to stand. Bent at the waist, they creep out from the ferns and myrtles and peek when they get to the opening on the sandy embankment.

This could’ve been another situation where Eden’s safety was compromised. A sense of urgency grows inside of him to keep Eden safe and to get her out of here as soon as possible. Samuel jogs over to them and wraps his arms around Eden. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“Did you recognize him?” he asks Asoo.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “My friends will know. I ask them.”

Samuel holds Eden to his chest. “We need to get you back to my hut.”

“Wait. I threw the mail in the boat when Asoo told me to run. I’m sorry it’s probably important, but I panicked.”

“It’s fine, Eden. Nothing is more important than your safety.”

Conversing in Pémon, Samuel instructs Asoo to be careful in his travels back to Canaima and to find out as much as possible without being obvious he’s prying. He collects the remainder of his parcels from Caracas while Eden carries the mail, and they head back to Ulara.

She doesn’t say anything.

Yet, he assumes the silence stems from fear.

* * *

The chief is unhappy with the intruders being close to Ulara. He’s aware no one is at fault except those who survive on greed with no knowledge of the land. The gods will punish everyone surrounding the tepui, and Samuel assumes the upcoming rain season, predicted as torrential, will be the act of unhappy gods.

He sprints back to his hut, to Eden. If the situation worsens, he’ll send her home immediately regardless of her stubborn desire to stay.

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