"Originally I was here on a field study with one of my professors. I'm an anthropology student at Rainier University in Cascade, Washington. Or I was until I got here."
"I'm familiar with the school," Ellison said, nodding approvingly as if he decided this was an acceptable reason for my presence among the Chopec. Not that he immediately trusted me. I could easily read the reservation in his eyes. That was okay. I didn't trust him either. "That doesn't explain why you were pointing an arrow at me." Ellison stated flatly.
"I didn't know who you were," I explained. "Around here, anyone who isn't familiar might be a real threat. I couldn't chance it."
Ellison considered the idea, considered the behavior of the natives and apparently decided to accept my explanation, at least for now. "So you're in Peru on a study? What happened to the rest of your team?"
"Well, we were supposed to study this tribe further south, but our plane went down in the forest. Most of the others died in the crash. The only one who survived the crash besides me was our pilot and Professor Lewis. He was the leader of our expedition." I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. It still hurt to think of those first few weeks. I'd lost a lot of friends that day. "All of us were really badly hurt. Jesus, our pilot, died about a week after the Chopec found us. Professor Lewis seemed to be pulling through, but one morning Incacha found him dead. He might have been bleeding internally or developed an infection… I don't know; I'm not a doctor."
Ellison's eyes seemed to soften slightly in sympathy, as he tried to understand it must have been like for a young man to be marooned in the middle of nowhere, cut off from everything and everyone he knew.
I ran my hand over a scar that ran along the length of my forearm that was partly masked by streaks of red and black paint. "I was really badly hurt in the crash," I explained. "The Chopec weren't sure if I was going to make it at first, but Incacha knew I'd recover. He stayed with me the whole time I was unconscious, talking to me, singing stories about the tribe." I looked up, smiling. "His voice was the first thing I remember hearing when I work up."
The captain sat silently, his face going unreadable for a minute. I noticed that whenever he was deep in thought, the emotions drained from his face. I rubbed at the scar again and summed it up simply with, "I've been here ever since. I suppose everyone back home thinks I'm dead."
Ellison cocked his head, his brow furrowing. "You haven't been able to get in contact with anyone?"
I smiled, shaking my head. "This isn't exactly the crossroads of the world, man. The radio in our plane was trashed and we don't get too many visitors. I was kind of stuck here."
He chuckled ruefully, apparently considering his squad's own stranding. "Yeah, I can certainly sympathize, kid."
I bristled slightly at the "kid" comment, but otherwise ignored it. He didn't seem to mean it in a patronizing manner the way most did when they called me that. "But you have a radio," I said, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of my voice. If they could get it working, then their visit would be a short one. I didn't even once consider going with them.
Ellison nodded, apparently thinking that I was concerned about my own rescue. "We've got one, but it's not feeling too good right now. I've got one of my men working on it and he's pretty good a tinkering. Probably be able to get it up and running in a couple of days."
"Then you'll be able to return to your mission," I said hopefully. I wanted whatever they were doing to be far away from the Chopec. The last thing in the universe I wanted was for my friends to be caught up in the middle of a firefight.
"Oh, the radio won't affect our mission," Ellison said, scratching at the back of his head. "We're right where we're supposed to be."
My heart sank at that revelation. I'd been hoping they were off course, but now all I could do was see if I could alleviate the damage they might cause. "What are you supposed to be doing here?" I asked, trying to keep my tone conversational.
Ellison didn't answer immediately. I could almost see the gears churning in his head. Probably didn't want to tell me too much about his mission, I thought. Probably something top secret. After all, why would American soldiers be in the middle of the rainforest of Peru? And Rangers at that, if the insignia patch on his shoulder was anything to go by. He may not completely trust me, but that mistrust went both ways.
I looked up at him, using an old trick that Incacha taught me. I stared directly into his eyes, catching him off guard. I'd seen Incacha do this when trying to draw the truth out of someone he thought was lying to him, or to express dominance during a very rare power struggle within the tribe hierarchy. I knew that Ellison saw me as a little kid and if I didn't stand up to him now, he'd just steamroll over me.
The captain seemed surprised by my actions, but met my stare unflinchingly. His brow was furrowed slightly, more out of perplexity than anything else but he didn't turn away. I don't know how long we sat there, just staring silently at one another until Ellison seemed to smile and murmured, "Easy kid. You don't have to prove anything to me."
It took every ounce of restraint I possessed not to haul of and belt him for that. "Listen, Captain," I snared, using his title like I would a profanity. "For one thing, I am not a kid! I was just a couple of months away from finishing my undergrad degree when I got stranded here and I've been taking care of myself a long time. Second, you don't trust me, fine. I don't trust you either. I may be a little out of the loop, but I do happen to know that unless the U.S. has declared war on Peru, you have no business here."
I climbed to my feet, ready to storm away when Ellison suddenly leapt at me, his hand lashing out to grab my arm tightly. He towered over me, breathing hard, his eyes glacier blue. His grip was strong enough to leave bruises. I looked pointedly at the huge fist gripping my arm, then turned my gaze slowly up to Ellison's. "Take your hand off me!" I hissed, not pulling free but waiting for him to release me.
He hesitated an instant before seeming to come back to himself. I watched his face as he very deliberately loosened his grip and released me. I refused the rub the spot, knowing that there was going to be a hell of a bruise there in the morning. Ellison seemed to shake himself, as if waking up. I frowned, wondering what was the matter with him.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "I'll live."
The captain inhaled deeply, running a hand over his face, the very same hand that had so painfully grabbed my arm. He stared at the spot on my upper arm as if looking for injury. The blue eyes that dragged themselves up to meet mine were filled with remorse. "I'm sorry," he said softly, seemingly genuine in his regret. "I don't know why I did that."
My mother would have had all kinds of theories on that, with plenty of comments concerning the inherent violence of soldiers and policemen in general. But I'd spent so much time with Incacha and the other warriors of the tribe to know that Naomi's view was limited at best. Something warned me that there was a lot more going on with this man than I understood.
Ellison seemed to shudder and I wondered if it was simply shock from their near crash catching up with him. "I'm really sorry, Chief." He looked down at me. "Is that all right?" he asked, meaning the new nickname.
I decided to let this one go. It was still a little condescending, but Chief was better than Kid by any stretch of the imagination. I nodded, watching him relax slightly.
"Believe me, I have no desire to hurt you or and of the people here but you have to understand where I'm coming from. I have a mission to accomplish and out of nowhere is this college student living with the tribe that we're supposed to work with. It took me a little by surprise, but I think this could be to both of our advantages."
"What do you mean?" I asked, still suspicious. Damn him, why did he have to prove my fears correct?
"I know that you want to get home. We'll take you with us, regardless but I think you can be a big help to us here," Ellison said softly, his voice level and quiet. "I was able to pick up a little of the language, but…"
"You don't have the local dialect down," I corrected. "Don't worry about that. Unless you actually spent time with the Chopec, you probably would never have heard it."
"But you speak it," Ellison stated.
I couldn't help from laughing. "I ought to after two years."
"What I'm saying is that you can understand and communicate with the people here in a way that we can't. That's going to make doing what we have to a lot easier."
I felt a large hunk of ice settle somewhere deep in my gut, my worst suspicions coming true. "You want to use them?" I asked, unable to hide my disgust in either my voice or face.
Ellison shook his head. "No! Not at all," he insisted. "What's going on affects them just as much, if not more. We'll be able to help them protect themselves."
"They've done fine up until now," I claimed.
Ellison shook his head again. "They won't be able to against this. These men are armed with guns, and as formidable as I'm sure these warriors are, they won't stand a chance without help."
I didn't believe him. I knew that he wasn't telling me the whole story and I would be damned before I let these strangers come in and destroy everything I worked to protect.
I squared my shoulders, planted my feet and stood my ground. "Forget it," I said simply. "I don't care what you mission is, but my interest is protecting the Chopec, and right now you're the biggest danger to them. So why don't you take your toy soldiers and go find somewhere else to play. I won't help you and you can't force me to."
Without another word, I turned my back on the captain and went back to my sleeping area where Incacha was waiting for me. He placed a comforting arm about my shoulders and drew me in. I buried my face into the shelter of his embrace, wishing that I had a way to make all of this just go away.
