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For the first time in many, many months, I’m afraid.
48
SAMUEL
Samuel’s eyes flutter open at the sharp inhalation of breath beside him. Eden’s hand clutches her throat.
“Is everything okay?” He pushes up onto his elbow.
Her eyes are wide with concern.
“What is it?”
“I’ve reached a point in Gran’s journal that’s going to upset me.”
“Do you want me to read it with you?” He hooks an arm around her shoulders.
“Not today.” She closes the journal. “Until now, Gran was really happy. She and Weju were…” she hesitates, “…in loveeven though she never stopped loving my grandfather.”
Samuel nods slowly. “What happened?”
“Dawn… Kaikare is sick, and Gran thinks she might be pregnant again. Until now, she believed she’d live out her life in Ulara, only her words in the last entry said she was afraid.” Eden looks up at Samuel, her eyes saddened by what she has read. “I felt happy, and so I kept reading about Gran’s happy times, but I don’t have the emotional energy to deal with something as heartbreaking as losing her baby.”
“Are you sure she’s pregnant?”
“No, but I can’t read anymore today.”
Eden rubs her hand over Samuel’s stomach. “How are you feeling?”
He kisses the top of her head. “Don’t worry about me.” He taps the couch for her to lay beside him. Eden crawls up and stretches out alongside his body. His heartbeat shoots up in response. He kisses her neck and slips his hand under her tank top to find her breasts.
“You’re all the nutrition I need,” he says against her skin.
“I wish that were true.” She muffles a laugh.
“I can show you it is,” he murmurs and hooks his leg until he’s between her thighs.
“See,” he says in a deep voice. “A perfect fit.” His kiss is long, passionate, and full of the love that has always been inside him waiting to come out.
* * *
Monday morning, Samuel drives into the hospital for routine tests. While in the waiting room, he flicks through a geographical magazine. An article on deforestation in the Amazon rainforest triggers emotion and his chest to tighten. He recalls his memory of the rainforest and pictures it with clarity after living there for eight years. He focuses on remembering the early years and the adventure before him. He met challenges with an open mind and heart, and what he did never seemed like work.
Providing medical care in places of need was gratifying, and he never wanted to be rewarded. His work transformed to be more of a biologist, and his interest in medicinal plants overtook his life.
Back in society, he’s struggling to adapt. Eden sees it more than anyone. Yet there’s no other alternative because he wants to be with her and Rose. This is now his life and as much as he’s trying to get the job done and move on, it’s like his body or some deep-seated psychological problem is holding him back.
Watching the medical staff around him reminds him of a colony of insects all working hard in a robotic way within the sterile walls of a lifeless building. Cures for disease come in packaging, not picked fresh from the garden. It seems backward and yet it’s referred to as modern medicine. He’s not ignorant of the power and lifesaving breakthroughs of advanced medication he’d love to take back to the jungle to his friends. Yet, for basic health and well-being, society has it back to front. Prevention is the key, and yet fast food and a sedentary lifestyle contribute more to cardiovascular disease than if people were hunters and gatherers. There’s so much humanity could learn from their indigenous ancestors by surviving on the food you can grow.
He lets out a long sigh.
Despite all his effort and knowledge, the root of his ongoing illness is unknown. If he could take ayahuasca, he knows he could find answers. He closes his eyes and imagines connecting with the shaman and Ivy. He knows they’ll protect him if another entity attempts to control him.
Eden remains skeptical about the benefits. She still considers it to be a dangerous psychedelic drug. She’s right. Although Samuel understands the importance of preparation and is trained, so his thoughts lead him to seek the answers he needs, as his soul has already been infiltrated and cleansed by ayahuasca’s probing fingers over many years.
He opens his phone and messages Michael.
I’m jealous of your travels. I miss the jungle. There are many things I miss so I’m eager to hear about your experiences with Santino. Did he learn from Juan? It’s been years since I’ve seen either of them. Remember our first holiday in our early twenties when we discovered Iquitos and the shamanic ceremonies? We were like kids in a candy store. Behaved like it too. Yet I’d never change a thing, and we learned from our mistakes. I’m looking forward to seeing you soon. I have many questions to ask and hope we can keep this between us. My health has declined, and after eliminating the obvious causes, I believe ayahuasca will help me to find the problem and heal. Unfortunately, Eden doesn’t hold the same view as me and still considers it dangerous. Time isn’t on my side, and if I suffer further weight loss, I may develop chronic issues and irreparable damage to some organs. I’m waiting on more tests, and I highly doubt anything will come from all the internal probing. So far, I have convinced Eden I’m doing all I can to find answers. The doctors here are querying an unknown virus which is the obvious answer, except the damage it’s causing is concerning, and furthermore, how to eradicate it is anyone’s guess. A long flight to Peru isn’t ideal, but I’m lost for alternative answers, especially when one session could save me months of mistreatment. In your opinion, could Santino help me, or should I simply seek out Juan? Do you have a contact number? See you soon, Mick. Or should I say mate or matey? You’ll be learning the lingo here with me.
