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“Five minutes.” She clambers in with him with even less grace than she did when she first arrived in the village.
“Here. Allow me.” He springs up, grabs her feet, and swings her legs around while taking her weight. “Your feet will thank you in a few hours.”
Clambering into the hammock beside her, Samuel stretches his arm behind her head and listens to her breaths as they slow. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead so as not to disturb her, then his fingers trail lightly up and down her arms until her head is heavy on his chest.
The jungle choir has lifted a notch with darkness around the village. His eyes adjust to the darkness and the faint moonlight streaming into the doorway of the hut. He cups Eden’s stomach with his free hand and sends a silent message to his unborn child.
I want you to know I love you with every fiber of my being.
It may be months before I get to see you, and I’ll struggle with the thought every day.
You’ll be surrounded by love and safe in a beautiful country.
I’ll count the days until we meet, but I’m blessed to watch you grow inside your mother and feel your presence within her.
I’ll be forever your father and will love you always.
Samuel pictures the day when Eden is holding their baby in her arms, smiling and full of joy. She’ll make a wonderful mother, and he can’t wait for the day he will join them.
A steady drumbeat brings him out of his thoughts.
It’s time.
24
EDEN
Kneeling beside Samuel in the waipa, I’m reminded of many months ago when I was here.
The round hut holds an ethereal essence—a calming sensation with the small fires dotted around it, flickering like candles providing an ambience similar to what I’d indulge in when I was home taking a relaxing bath.
It feels spiritual. I don’t doubt there’s apresencehere since the shaman began his prayers calling to the forest before we even arrived. The shaman is taking the tea with Samuel, and to be honest, the notion of two great minds connecting simultaneously with the spirits freaks me out. Yet, in the gentle breeze, there’s an aroma of herbs and an earthy scent wafting in from the rainforest.
I turn and look to the green cavern, unusually quiet and still at present.
Samuel touches my knee, and I turn back to the shaman blessing the tea. He hums a tune, the same syllables over and over.
From a bamboo pipe, he sucks in smoke, blows it over the tea, and continues chanting.
Much of the preparation was completed before our arrival since the shaman himself isn’t overseeing the ceremony.
Kaikare is.
It strikes me that Kaikare is in charge and the enormity of the responsibility for her to lead two of the most powerful and influential men in the community. Kaikare is preparing to be a shaman and has studied all her life to follow in her father’s footsteps. My stomach drops, knowing what could’ve been.
Kaikare is my aunty.
Her life might have been very different if my gran had brought her back to Australia. She’d have grown up alongside my father in a world different from this.
I imagine all the places we could’ve traveled together—attended football games, visited shopping centers, and—
Kaikare snaps her head in my direction as though she senses my thoughts. I give her a tight smile, trying to empty my mind and focus on what’s happening, but maybe it’s in here where our world collides with the spiritual one thatwhat ifis challenged.
Is it my ego talking? Is my selfishness surfacing with wanting Kaikare to be part of my world and not part of her father’s where she was born?
Would she be any happier in my world?
The point is, she’s happy here. She knows of nothing else.
