but the children and the Indians went about what they were doing, completely indifferent to the downpour. Alex realized that his grandmother had been right to suggest that he change his blue jeans for the light cotton clothing she had bought him in Manaus; it was cooler and quicker to dry. To escape the rain, the two children ducked into the church, where they found a tall, husky man with white hair and the huge shoulders of a lumberjack. Nadia introduced him as Padre Valdomero. He wasn't at all what you expected in a priest; he was wearing sandals and no shirt, and was up on a ladder white-washing the walls. A bottle of rum sat on the floor.
"Padre Valdomero has lived here since before the invasion of the ants," was Nadia's introduction.
"I came when this village was founded, about forty years ago, and I was here when the ants came. We had to abandon everything and escape downriver. They came like an enormous black blob, unstoppable, destroying everything in their path," the priest told them.
"What happened then?" Alex asked, who could not imagine a town victimized by insects.
"We set fire to the houses before we left. Because of the fire, the ants detoured, and a few months later, we were able to come back. None of the houses you see now is more than fifteen years old."
The priest had a strange mascot, an amphibious dog that, according to him, was native to the Amazon, but a breed that was now nearly extinct. It spent a good part of its life in the river, and could keep its head in a bucket of water for minutes at a time. It acknowledged Alex and Nadia from a prudent distance, suspicious. Its bark was like a birdcall; it seemed to be singing.
"The Indians kidnapped Padre Valdomero. What I wouldn't give to have that happen to me!" Nadia exclaimed with envy.
"They didn't kidnap me, child. I got lost in the jungle and they saved my life. I lived with them for several months. They're good people, and free; for them, freedom is more important than life itself. They can't live without it. An Indian who is a prisoner is a dead Indian. He turns inward, stops eating or breathing, and dies," Padre Valdomero told them.
"Some versions say that they're peaceful, but others describe them as savage and violent," said Alex.
"The most dangerous men I've seen around here aren't the Indians, they're the people who traffic in weapons and drugs and diamonds and rubber, the gold prospectors and soldiers and timbermen who pollute and exploit the region," the priest rebutted. And he added that the Indians were primitive in terms of material goods, but very advanced on the mental plane. They were connected to nature the way a child is to its mother.
"Tell us about the Beast. Is it true that you saw it with your own eyes, Padre?" Nadia asked.
"I think I saw it, but it was night and my eyes aren't as good as they used to be," Padre Valdomero answered, tossing down a long swallow of rum.
"When was that?" asked Alex, thinking that his grandmother would be grateful for the information.
"A couple of years ago…"
"What did you see, exactly?"
"What I have told many times: a giant more than nine feet tall, which moved very slowly and had a terrible odor. I was paralyzed with fear."
"It didn't attack you, Padre?"
"No. It said something, then turned and disappeared into the trees."
"It said something? I guess you mean that it made noises, like grunts. Is that what you mean?" Alex insisted.
"No, son. Clearly the creature spoke. I did not understand a single word, but I have no doubt it was a spoken language. I fainted… When I came to, I wasn't sure what had happened, but I had that strong smell clinging to my clothes and hair and skin. That was how I knew I hadn't dreamed it."
CHAPTER FIVE
The Shaman
THE STORM ENDED as quickly as it had begun, and the night sky was clear. Alex and Nadia returned to the hotel where the members of the expedition had gathered around César Santos and Dr. Omayra Torres, who were studying a map of the
"Padre Valdomero has lived here since before the invasion of the ants," was Nadia's introduction.
"I came when this village was founded, about forty years ago, and I was here when the ants came. We had to abandon everything and escape downriver. They came like an enormous black blob, unstoppable, destroying everything in their path," the priest told them.
"What happened then?" Alex asked, who could not imagine a town victimized by insects.
"We set fire to the houses before we left. Because of the fire, the ants detoured, and a few months later, we were able to come back. None of the houses you see now is more than fifteen years old."
The priest had a strange mascot, an amphibious dog that, according to him, was native to the Amazon, but a breed that was now nearly extinct. It spent a good part of its life in the river, and could keep its head in a bucket of water for minutes at a time. It acknowledged Alex and Nadia from a prudent distance, suspicious. Its bark was like a birdcall; it seemed to be singing.
"The Indians kidnapped Padre Valdomero. What I wouldn't give to have that happen to me!" Nadia exclaimed with envy.
"They didn't kidnap me, child. I got lost in the jungle and they saved my life. I lived with them for several months. They're good people, and free; for them, freedom is more important than life itself. They can't live without it. An Indian who is a prisoner is a dead Indian. He turns inward, stops eating or breathing, and dies," Padre Valdomero told them.
"Some versions say that they're peaceful, but others describe them as savage and violent," said Alex.
"The most dangerous men I've seen around here aren't the Indians, they're the people who traffic in weapons and drugs and diamonds and rubber, the gold prospectors and soldiers and timbermen who pollute and exploit the region," the priest rebutted. And he added that the Indians were primitive in terms of material goods, but very advanced on the mental plane. They were connected to nature the way a child is to its mother.
"Tell us about the Beast. Is it true that you saw it with your own eyes, Padre?" Nadia asked.
"I think I saw it, but it was night and my eyes aren't as good as they used to be," Padre Valdomero answered, tossing down a long swallow of rum.
"When was that?" asked Alex, thinking that his grandmother would be grateful for the information.
"A couple of years ago…"
"What did you see, exactly?"
"What I have told many times: a giant more than nine feet tall, which moved very slowly and had a terrible odor. I was paralyzed with fear."
"It didn't attack you, Padre?"
"No. It said something, then turned and disappeared into the trees."
"It said something? I guess you mean that it made noises, like grunts. Is that what you mean?" Alex insisted.
"No, son. Clearly the creature spoke. I did not understand a single word, but I have no doubt it was a spoken language. I fainted… When I came to, I wasn't sure what had happened, but I had that strong smell clinging to my clothes and hair and skin. That was how I knew I hadn't dreamed it."
CHAPTER FIVE
The Shaman
THE STORM ENDED as quickly as it had begun, and the night sky was clear. Alex and Nadia returned to the hotel where the members of the expedition had gathered around César Santos and Dr. Omayra Torres, who were studying a map of the
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