MY BELOVED GHOST IN THE AMAZON

A Short Story

by Phoenix

A modern take on Green Mansions: A Romance of the Tropical Forest by William Henry Hudson, (1904)

“My Beloved Ghost in the Amazon” has a haunting new twist and a very different ending.

****

 

I was hopelessly lost.

Each way I turned, it all looked the same. I was sure the jungle was out to get me; I was certain it finally had me in its clutches. The rainforest was wet and oozy, smelling of decayed leaves and who knew what else. Every second it got thicker and more humid. Could it get any worse? Well, it did; it started to rain, lightly at first, and then within minutes, lightning struck. Thunder boomed and rain fell as if I was under Niagara Falls. I was soaked instantly and blinded by the downpour. It sounded like drums as it hit the wide leaves of plants, beating a raucous throb. I knew I had to get my wits about me because I was lost and starving and probably not the only hungry creature roaming in this hell. What I needed first was shelter. I crawled under a clump of broad philodendrons, wrapped my arms around myself, and huddled.

And waited.

What happened next, I didn’t see coming. Even if I had, would I have done anything differently? I can only say now, in retrospect, no.

How did I become lost in the rainforest, shivering and wet, waiting to be a meal for some wild predator? It started with a frantic call on my satellite phone from the owner of the company, Mr. Richards.

My name is Jake Priestly. The reason I was here in the middle of the Amazon was not because I was a nature lover, far from it. I’m the foreman for a logging company. The work is hard and long and filled with spreadsheets and quotas. My company was clearing this parcel of land in the Amazon basin by clear-cutting the trees, with the plan to sell the timber and then sell the land at a monstrous premium to a company for raising cattle.

The project to log and clear this area was way behind schedule. We had to first deal with the local tribes who lived on the land, force them to relocate (I don’t even want to go into how difficult that was), create a road through the dense jungle, and clear an area for our machines and camp. Getting the permits had taken months, and the local tribes had blocked us at every turn. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t have any political power, so they were displaced in favor of cattle grazing. The politicians made a show of caring, dragging their feet, and looking for a little graft.

I’m a big man physically and have always taken tough jobs in stride. Have all my life. I usually take pride in that, but this one made me want to quit and find something else to do. It was a nightmare.

Every step of the way, we hit problems and delays. And my assistant foreman, Carl, gave me grief all along the way. I hated all of his smirks and eye rolls and his reminders that Richards was pissed with me. Also, with his apparent lack of concern with the delays, it was obvious to me he was happy that the job was not going well at all. He wanted my job, and he most likely would get it.

Richards yelled all of the time, saying I was wasting time and I was costing him a fortune. In no uncertain terms he told me I was about to be fired if the work didn’t start immediately. He needed those trees cut and cut now.

Of course, from his office desk in Denver, he had no idea what was involved. We had gotten the savages off the land. We had made a road through nasty, thick jungle. We finally had a campsite. Our equipment had just arrived. We were ready to clear-cut.

Clear-cutting is not selective. Loggers are interested in all types of wood and therefore cut all of the trees down, thus clearing the forest. Sale of the timber is a gold mine. But more so the sale of the land itself. In some parts of the Brazilian Amazon, cleared rainforest land can be worth more than eight times that of land with standing forest. Clearing a forest for cattle pasture is the cheapest and easiest way to establish an informal claim to land, which gives a company the right to sell it.

To clear the land quickly, we were going to make use of some wild-looking machines that would give trees nightmares—a walking machine. Over the past decades, the use of the walking machine leaped from the imagination of science fiction to the world of practical reality.

My company had leased three of the six-legged Timberjack walking machines that can negotiate any raw territory, using a computer to control the timing and the rhythm needed to work the legs to keep the machine balanced. It could not only cut down a tree in seconds but also had a stripper on the logging head that cleaned all the branches and bark of the tree. It could even cut the logs to size for easy loading.

The walking machine adapts automatically to the forest floor. Moving on two to six articulated legs, the harvester advances forward and backward, sideways and diagonally. It can also turn in place and step over obstacles.

It looks like a monstrous spider. Or a scorpion. This is a real machine rented to movie sets.

Well, gone were the days of hard-earned lumber, where felling a tree took sweat and grit. Now, thanks to advances in technology, a single Timberjack, all from a comfortable, air-conditioned seated position, could harvest large swaths of forest in a fraction of the time.

The walking machines had just arrived along with huge logging trucks and log loaders. We had the men and we had the machines to create a near continuous flow of logs being sent to mills. This assembly line was all set in place.

Today was Friday. Work would begin on Monday. Finally.

I was sweating so hard my shirt was wet as I listened to Mr. Richards yell at me. I was tired. It was so damned hot. When he finally hung up, I turned it off, set it down and pushed it away from me. I was rejecting the stupid machine with its ringing that tormented my life. Just leave me alone.

I walked to the edge of the clearing.

Why was I doing this? It felt like some kind of torture, all for the need of a buck.

As I stood there, not seeing anything and thinking, So fire me. Fine. Then I can go home and forget this disgusting place, when a flash of color got my attention. A tiny bird’s iridescent feathers caught the sunlight as it darted right, left, up, down and then stopped in midair, looking straight at me. It hovered, as if sizing me up, as if it was curious about the human watching it, its wings humming and fluttering one hundred times a second.

I felt drawn to it. I held out my hand. It landed on my thumb and tilted its head, studying me. I felt huge and clumsy, like a big lumbering ox compared to the beautiful, fragile creature. I had a feeling of wonder that this little bird was taking a few moments to notice me and acknowledge that I was there. Crazy, really, but I wanted it to like me and felt a small loss when it lost interest and darted off again to work on another blossom.

I was suddenly aware of all my pain and worry, my exhaustion, and the complete uselessness of my work, the only purpose being to make a dollar. There was a creature who didn’t find it a chore to find its daily meal. It made me feel as if I could be free of the yoke I wore. And why not? Well, I answered myself right away; I had to make a living just like everyone else. If only life were as simple as it seemed to be for that tiny beautiful bird. It was bursting with joy in its work, competent in knowing exactly where it would find its reward in the sweet juice of flowers, an exactness and playfulness as it dipped its needlelike bill quickly into each blossom one at a time, rapid fire, instantly drawing nectar and moving on to the next. Wouldn’t it be terrific to feel like that?

And then, without a second of hesitation, it flew into the forest. I felt such disappointment to have it go. I stood at the edge of the rainforest in the Amazon, wanting to watch it a little longer. What I really needed instead of tracking a bird into the forest was sleep. We had a makeshift camp set up with trailers run by generators. So we had some comforts, but we had no running water. Showers were nonexistent. My shirt was plastered to my body with sweat, and I actually would have killed for a cold shower. I felt itchy all over and had a case of mild diarrhea causing stomach cramps. I was exhausted from all the tension of getting everything ready for the job to begin.

Well, we were ready, but I was not. My nerves were frayed. I could not make myself turn around and go back to the camp. The hummingbird had my attention. I needed to find my cot and take a nap. Yet I stared at the spot in the darkness of the forest where it flew. I needed to recheck that everything was ready to go for our job; nothing could be left to chance. If anything went wrong again, I was unemployed. That was for sure, but on an impulse, instead I followed the bird.

I pushed my way into the dense forest, watching it flit from one flowering shrub to another. It was amazing how much energy it must have been expending, but never tiring. It moved into shadow and I lost sight of it. I followed toward the shadows, moving slowly into the trees, trees that would be gone in a few weeks, land flattened and cleared, ready to be plowed. Not a limb would be left.

There it was again, busy and industrious. A stray beam from the sun caught its feathers and changed them from blue to red and to green, shimmering and flickering in a display of beauty that I sensed it was aware of, which made me smile. It was probably the first smile I wore in months.

The delightful little creature was drawing me into the forest. Crazy thought, but it enjoyed my admiration. Could that be? It was an enchanting thought, really, even though it was just a dumb creature, a bird busy with whatever birds are busy with. It stopped feeding and perched, looking at me—the human who did not belong here.

It flew away.

I was suddenly more aware of the jungle. I looked down at my feet and up toward the sky. The sun filtered from the canopy in soft rays, unseen monkeys chattered, and the smell of the forest filled my senses with its deep musty scent. Shades of greens and browns with flickering shadows played on my eyes. My sense of smell was overpowered by pungent sudden scents, heady and strong. I heard the forest floor under my feet and became self-conscious of the noise I was making. My senses were extra sensitive, and it felt as if I was disturbing a world that did not welcome humans.

I tried to walk more quietly, but did not turn to go back. The forest was working some kind of magic on me, and my tired body was relaxing a little. I swung my head in a circle, trying to relieve my stiff neck, and rounded my shoulders, letting the muscles stretch from months of worrying. I had entered into another realm. The tedious world I lived in was gone, my normal life just a figment of my imagination, because this was the only one that existed, this jungle with all its colors, textures, sounds and scents there just to amaze me. This was the only world that was awake and real, and the other one was a sham of reality.

I thought I might as well enjoy this forest while it was here. In a couple of weeks it would be gone.

I felt a stab of guilt.

Gone?

I reminded myself that I had no choice. No, I did not.

I had a job to do. According to Richards, it needed to be done yesterday. Or I would lose my job. Yes, I had been thinking I didn’t care if I got fired, but how would that look on a résumé? I needed to stop fooling around and get back. More workers were due to arrive, and I needed to make sure each was trained and ready for Monday. If not, there would be more delays.

I stopped in the shadows and looked around me. This jungle had hundreds of species of animals, insects and plants, explosions of life clamoring for my attention.

I wandered farther in, mesmerized, the smells assaulting me, a small breeze pulling me in deeper. I reached out and felt the leaves of some of the plants. They were tough with resins. Some of the plants—such as ferns, orchids, cacti, and mosses, which seemed to have the ability to live virtually in midair—had evolved to the point that they simply didn’t need to grow on the forest floor, instead living on other plants. They trapped the little soil they needed, which was carried by the wind, and this helped them develop roots and a litter base on tree branches.

I looked closer at one of the trees, home to snails and tree frogs of marvelous colors. Leafy vines began life on the ground and threw tendrils up the tree trunk, wrapping themselves around it.

Light and shadow put on a show for me. I stood still. A chill ran down my spine. I had the sensation that the forest was aware of me.

No, I had lost it; I was just overly tired.

No, I felt it.

The rainforest seemed to breathe.

I listened. It was breathing. And watching me.

That was when I was sure the jungle was out to get me. It was wet and humid and then started to rain, lightly at first, and then within minutes was coming down hard, with thunder and lightning. I was hungry. I was getting drenched. I needed shelter.

I crawled under a clump of plants for some shelter, wrapped my arms around myself, and huddled.

I waited.

After about an hour it stopped and I stepped out from the bushes. I realized at that moment the birds had stopped their incessant racket, and the monkeys were mute. There was dead quiet. An ant marching across a leaf would have been deafening. A frond fluttered against the bark of a tree and I jumped. My imagination was playing tricks on me, because I thought I saw someone through the large palm fronds. I had better be getting back to the camp. I needed sleep. I had a lot of work to do tomorrow. I reminded myself that everything was in place, and the newly hired help would arrive tomorrow. I had the weekend to—

A strange song. A melody. A birdsong. Exotic and beautiful. I spun around. Which direction? It was up, then down. To the left. I spun again; it was to the right. What kind of bird made such a sound? None that I had ever heard, but then there were millions of species in the rainforest that humans had never even seen or heard of. No, not a bird. The birdsong was almost human. Now with warbling and then with long sustained notes, first like a beautiful mysterious instrument and then like an innocent child with a highly pitched and melodious voice, pure, expressive and almost angelic. Then it sang a melody for almost a whole minute, a melody that I recognized yet could not quite recall.

It stopped.

Along with my heart.

I sucked in my breath. I needed to get it back.

My emotions hit deep into despair and soared to joy as it started again right over my shoulder. Close to my ear. I turned. Nothing was there.

“What the hell?”

A shadow, then a shimmer ten feet away and a slight movement making the large ferns sway.

“Hey! Who are you?”

A rustle and the song began again.

“What are you?”

I ran to where the foliage had moved. A figure was walking away from me. A female with long black hair to her waist, maybe a native girl. There were no natives on this land anymore. Our company had made sure they were all moved off.

She had on something strange. A long dress. Some kind of fabric that shimmered like that hummingbird.

“Wait.” But she started walking faster. I sped up. I was getting out of breath. “Wait, I want to talk with you.”

What was I doing? What an idiot. I was chasing her and frightening her. I stopped.

She also stopped and turned, and I saw her face. It made my heart skip a beat. She smiled at me. That was not the face of a frightened woman. It was the face of the most beautiful female creature I had ever seen.

She started walking again.

“Wait!”

She was walking so fast now that I was running to catch up with her. I chased her for fifteen minutes or more, all the while wondering what I was doing. Then she was gone.

Such a feeling of loss. Almost as if I had lost someone near and dear.

I turned to leave. Enough. I was just too tired and stressed, and that was the reason for this strange emotional state. Foolishness. So what if some native had wandered in here?

I walked for about an hour and didn’t recognize anything. Not that I expected to. In this jungle, everything was new to me and nothing seemed to repeat itself. There was not one thing that could be used as a guide to where I was or where I had been. I panicked and looked up; the sun was now over to the west. The camp was west, so I calmed down. I just needed to go west, get back and get some sleep.

I was so tired.

Hungry.

Thirsty.

I felt nauseous and dizzy.

I walked for another half hour. What the hell? That didn’t make sense. I had walked for about an hour into the jungle going east, and now I had been heading west. I should have reached the edge of the jungle.

Maybe I had walked in circles, or lost track of time and gone in farther than I thought.

Or, a terrifying thought, I was way north or south of the area we had cleared for camp.

I walked faster. Another half hour and I still hadn’t reached the edge of the forest and the beginning of our camp area. My breath was coming faster now. Not from physical exertion but from anxiety.

Should I go north or south? My gut said to go south. It was getting darker, and it dawned on me that this rainforest was a dangerous place, beautiful but deadly to a human.

I was exhausted, panting, and my heart was beating too hard, but I walked faster. I had to arrive at the work area soon. I turned a little to the west again.

Then I saw it. In the shadows.

Crouched as still as an onyx carving, not two yards in front of me, was a black panther. Its yellow eyes were unblinking. Its breath was slow and controlled. Its muscles were tight as compressed springs.

We stood and stared at one another. So it was bizarre that at that moment I admired the rare and beautiful animal steeped in mystery and referred to by some as the ghost of the forest.

I had been told that there was no such cat as a panther. It is actually a black form of a leopard or, in this case, probably a rare black jaguar. Worshiped by the natives. I was in mortal danger.

It was a reflex to back up, but I fought the urge to run. That would have been stupid. The muscular animal could be on me in one dive. It let out a low growl and I saw its white fangs, teeth that were about to make me into a meal.

Should I hide, flee, or what? I reached down very slowly and grabbed some leaves to throw into its face. My heart hammered in my chest as I panted. A ray of sun broke from the canopy, and the big cat’s black coat shimmered. Its powerful muscles rippled and contracted—ready to pounce.

But it didn’t.

It turned its head to the right.

That song again. The birdsong. Soft and high-pitched, first warbling and then holding a note.

The panther suddenly turned and disappeared into the jungle.

I caught a glimpse of the girl again. I could only see her face. She looked straight at me before she walked away.

“Wait! Help me!”

I ran to where she had been. I heard the rustle of foliage and ran to the sound. And kept running, following the sounds of a person walking through the forest.

The forest started to thin out, but she wasn’t there. Then about twenty feet ahead of me, I thought I saw her again. With what little energy I had left, I ran to catch up with her.

Gone. I stood still, looking around. I didn’t feel as frightened of the jungle as I had, but there was that strange feeling it was watching me again. This time more benign.

I walked for a while, no longer concerned that I was lost. That was shocking! Where was my hunger and thirst? My fatigue? All my discomforts were there, but I was being fascinated with each unique tree, leaf, bug and caterpillar. All manner of moss and delicate flowers. It was a beautiful place, really. Orchids in a blaze of different colors, passionflowers, and a strange flower like a furry orange and yellow caterpillar.

Wherever there was sun, there was a bush with poinsettias in red, white, pink and bicolor. All different species of the flowers were growing on trees, rocks and other plants. Bright colors of red, orange, purple and blue. I looked closer at them and they were the homes to tree frogs, snails and salamanders.

I had been told that eleven thousand varieties of Amazonia’s trees were very rare. It seemed that no two were alike. I did recognize the kapok, their open umbrellas towering over all of the others. The straight trunks were smooth, gray and some had a diameter of nine feet. Large spines protruded to discourage damage, and plank-like buttresses protruded out, some to thirty feet.

Good luck with that old Timberjack!

When I had that thought, I again felt that the jungle might be breathing. At which point the monkeys started to frolic and carry on louder. And the birds seemed to suddenly be having quite a party. That started me laughing for no reason at all. I had to sit down, laughing so hard tears were running down my face.

Then I noticed the sun was gone. Just like that. The weather changed from one moment to another, there in the rainforest, like a temperamental woman. That was what this tropical paradise was like. A woman. Paradise? Yes, I actually thought that word. Before I felt I was living in hell and wanted to go home more than anything. Now it felt different, sort of welcoming. And I liked the feeling.

It started to rain again. I tried to shelter myself under a clump of plants with large leaves, and huddled there through the night as the rain poured with a vengeance. I finally fell asleep in spite of all my discomfort.

When I woke in the early morning, I was terribly hungry. I didn’t know which of the plants were edible; I could poison myself if I tried any of them. I was feeling despondent and sick. Then I noticed it—food arranged on a large leaf in front of me, tropical fruit, berries, and what I hoped were edible flowers.

A gift? From whom?

I didn’t care at the moment and devoured it all.

Crawling out of my hiding place, I headed west again. Strange that I no longer felt frantic to get out of the jungle, just tired. Very, very tired.

I heard the singing again and followed it. The sound filled me with joy.

“I just want to talk with you. Can’t you stop?”

That was when I realized that I was out of the forest and in the clearing with the equipment and the camp.

She had led me out of the jungle.

She had protected me from the jaguar, brought me food, and led me to safety.

I stood there blinking in the bright sunlight. When my vision cleared, I saw that workers were standing around idle, probably waiting for the foreman to direct them, which was me.

Me. The big boss man. I must have been a real sight, panting, dirty, ragged, and smiling stupidly.

Two of them ran to me as my knees buckled and I passed out.

I was out for about twenty-four hours. We were many miles from a hospital, so my assistant, Carl, was doing the best he could to nurse me back to health. Humidity can lead to dehydration and serious medical emergencies. When the humidity is high, that interferes with the body’s ability to get rid of heat by sweat evaporating off your skin’s surface. So you sweat a lot, but you don’t get rid of the heat as easily. However, that I had actually stopped sweating and had a fever was not the only side effect of the mess I was in. My legs and fingers were badly swollen. I was extremely thirsty, had dry itchy skin, and had not urinated in twelve hours, not to mention my heart was jumping and pounding; and I was extremely fatigued and dizzy.

Carl was reprimanding me as he put cool cloths on me, going on about how it was totally necessary when living in the Amazon to stay hydrated. I knew unchecked dehydration could lead to delirium, confusion, shock, stroke and death, but I was afraid I hadn’t paid enough attention to my health because I had been under so much pressure with the job going so slowly and so many delays. And the boss in Denver yelling, always yelling.

Carl handed me another bottle of water with sugar and salt added, and pushed a bunch of bananas at me. “Potassium.” He had me rub salt onto my hands and rub it all over to alleviate the horrible itching, and he continued to apply cool wet cloths to my thin-skinned areas.

I remembered the feeling of confusion when I started my little walk into the forest following that hummingbird; I hadn’t been careful to take lots of electrolytes and drink gallons of water.

So the bird girl was just a hallucination. I sat up, the cloths falling off. “No! She was real!”

“What? Who was real?”

“Never mind.”

“Boss?”

I lay back down and tried to put the cloths back. “Just feeling kind of goofy. Never mind.”

“You got lucky. You could’ve died in that jungle.”

“Yeah, whatever. I have to tell you something. Someone lives in there. A tribe or something.”

“What do you mean?”

I was telling him about the girl when his cell phone rang. He answered. It was obviously our boss, Mr. Richards, from Denver. Carl told him I had been found and the project would go ahead today, even though I was laid up. He would run the show until I was better. Which I was sure he liked, as I knew he wanted my job.

I waited until he left for lunch and put together a backpack with emergency items like a flashlight, compass, a weapon, food and some water, all just in case of what, I didn’t know. I didn’t plan on being gone long and didn’t plan on getting lost this time. I knew Carl would be pissed and tell the boss I had left, but I needed to find her. I needed to know I was not imagining her.

I still felt dizzy and was really too sick, but managed to get a ways into the jungle and started calling for her.

“It’s me. My name is Jake. Jake Priestly. I want to talk to you. Hello? I need to talk to you.”

It was weird because I had only gotten a few glimpses of her before, yet I felt I had connected with her. I remembered that smile, and she did, after all, lead me out of the forest.

The forest was unusually quiet, almost too quiet. Shadows and dim light, close humid air. I started to feel as if I couldn’t breathe.

“I want to talk with you. Please come out.”

Then I heard it. A soft, melancholy birdsong. There was a shimmer in a dark patch ahead of me. The vines became a glistening pale color with a face. She moved forward a bit and peered at me. High cheekbones, small mouth and large dark eyes.

My heart was pounding; I was so relieved that she was real. She was as exquisite as I remembered her. “Ehh, hello.”

“Hello.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lara.”

“Do you live around here?”

She smiled. “Sim.” Yes.

I said, “Boa tarde. Você fala inglês?” Good afternoon. Do you speak English?

“Yes.”

“Why are you here in the jungle? Where is your home?”

She moved out of the vines and ferns and stood before me. “This is my place.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, except to parrot what she said, “You live in this place? Don’t you have a village nearby?”

“No.”

“Do you have people with you here?”

“No.”

“But you can’t live in a forest by yourself.”

“I do.”

“But this area will soon be gone. The trees are going to be cut down soon. Surely you have a village or something? Can I talk with your people?”

She moved back a little. “No. No, it will not be gone.”

“What?”

“The forest will not be gone. You will not let it be gone.”

She moved back some more, and as a reflex, I reached out to her.

“Wait, don’t go. What do you mean I will not let it be gone? I’m in charge of cutting down these trees.”

I sucked in my breath as she suddenly backed into the foliage and was gone.

“Wait!”

I chased her, but there was no sign of her anymore.

The birds continued to carry on, and the monkeys went about their frolic in the branches, and again I felt the forest aware of me. I could feel it breathing. Watching me. Anticipating my actions. My thoughts. I felt naked as it peered deep into my soul.

The jungle made itself known to me, but she did not.

My heart felt heavy as I took my time leaving the jungle, watching and listening carefully for any sign of her. As I entered the camp area, the walking machines stood there, looking like outer space monsters or some comic book transformers. Spread around the small green bodies were six legs, with large pads serving as feet, all of which gave them the appearance of a crouching spider.

Before they were a thing of beauty to me: awesome, powerful, and efficient. Now they were ugly—vicious, metal killing machines.

That was when the idea came to me. I would stop the operation. There was no doubt, not even a tiny bit. I would stop it. I had to stop it.

How could I do that? Steal parts from the machines? I was an honest person. The resolute decision moments before now turned to painful doubt.

Could I live with myself if I sabotaged them?

I stood there for fifteen minutes, the uncertainty raging within me. Finally, I decided. I would do it.

I walked quickly to my small trailer, opened the door and nearly jumped out of my skin as Carl came up behind me and said, “What the hell? I just called Mr. Richards and told him you had disappeared again. Couldn’t find you anywhere around the camp. Are you completely nuts? Where the hell did … why do you have on a backpack? Did you go back into the jungle?”

“Never mind, Carl. Just needed to get some air.”

“Air? Where would you find air around here? You went in there looking for that girl!”

“Well, yes, I did. I think if there’s a native village around here we don’t know about, they should be warned.”

“Well, you explain all that to Mr. Richards. We’re starting tomorrow, that is if we can keep you out of the damn jungle and on the job.”

He stomped off. I guess he no longer had any interest in nursing me. I felt like I was going to pass out again and I was on my own.

I went into my trailer and took off my clothes. I turned on the fan and stood naked in front of it, wiping myself down with a wet rag while swigging a quart of water with electrolytes. And lay down to wait.

There would be no work tomorrow.

I would see to it.

 

In the morning, I stepped out of my trailer and walked over to the Timberjacks. Men were milling around. I didn’t see Carl.

“Max, what’s going on?”

“We have big problems.” Max was one of the Timberjack pilots.

“What?”

“The walking machines don’t work. Looks like they’ve been sabotaged. The computer boards have been removed.”

I fished out my satellite phone to call Mr. Richards. When he picked up, I told him about the problem and, of course, he went nuts.

I said, “Look, I’ll call the manufacturer and order new computer boards.”

“Well, do it fast. And call the local police.”

Now that was stupid. The police were miles and miles from this isolated spot. I knew that and he didn’t. I also knew there was no way to tell how long it would take to get the computer boards. Mail service was not exactly dependable.

“Sure,” I said and hung up.

As soon as I found Carl, I told him to go to São Luís and wait for the parts. “Call me when you have them and are on your way back.”

He looked sideways at me. I could tell he was suspicious. I did my best not to look guilty.

Stupid! I should have just damaged them instead of removing them, and then I would have had some plausible deniability. The computer parts I took out of the walking machines were hidden in the jungle. Rotting in the damp earth where I buried them.

He grabbed a Jeep and was gone.

There was nothing to do, so most of the men left for the local town twenty miles away. Not really a town, more like an outpost with a bar and a lousy place they called a hotel.

I’m normally a moral and honest guy, doing an honest day’s work, and this behavior was way over the top and stupid. The new parts would arrive, and all I had done was delay the project.

I spent the next two weeks roaming the jungle, and every once in a while she emerged from the depths and presented herself to me. The trees and vines began to feel like old friends as we sat, sometimes for nearly an hour, in silence, the conversation being only us absorbing the life in the area, the spirit of the birth, living and dying of millions of creatures large and small, a busy hive of activity in the quiet. I’m not a religious man, but the rainforest at those times felt like sitting in a glorious cathedral, with a swelling choir to stir the spirit, a place to reflect on otherworldly matters, a place that cleansed the soul.

I will never forget the setting on one day, where the sun flowed through a slight mist. Not rain, really, merely a bit of drizzle wetting our faces and clothing, but not enough to bother seeking shelter. It was almost comforting, like a gift to ease the humidity. A bit of magic made more magical as she sang for me. A lovely birdsong.

She finished the song and smiled at me. The smile warmed me inside, and I felt as if a rainbow had appeared to tantalize me with its bright exquisite hues. I wanted to reach for that rainbow and hold it and have it for my own. She was the rainforest and the rainforest was Lara, and for the first time in my life I was at peace, because I recognized that I had been at war with myself, and the sanctity of the canopy of towering trees was a shelter that ended the strife and noise, the forest bringing out the best of me.

When she looked at me with her huge eyes full of light, I melted, and then she would say, “Jake, is it you?” I didn’t know what she meant, but I always just nodded yes. I longed to touch her.

Sometimes we would just run through the rainforest together, laughing like playful children. Or dive into small lakes fed by waterfalls, and then dry in the sun and feast on things she gathered that tasted like the most wonderful food a human could possibly find in this world.

We talked a lot, but mostly it was me jabbering on about myself. I realized that she never told me how she got to the jungle or where she was from. I would ask and she would just smile at me. Then I would forget my questions and get lost in her eyes. I had fallen in love, for the first time in my life.

I longed so much to touch her, and I finally worked up the nerve. I reached out to place my hand on her shoulder.

My hand went through thin air.

I stood and gasped. “What the …? Lara!”

All she did was smile at me.

“What are you? A damned ghost? Lara! Please explain this to me.”

“No, I am a real person. I am not a ghost.”

“Then you are some kind of angel.”

She laughed. “No. Not an angel. I am alive. Flesh and blood. Just not while I am in the jungle.”

“I don’t understand. Then you’re a ghost when you’re in the jungle?”

“Yes, and I guard this forest from those who would destroy it. You are going to help me keep that from happening.”

“Lara, it is my job.”

“You need another job.”

“That’s probably what’s going to happen, because if the project doesn’t move forward soon, I’ll be fired. Then Carl will get the promotion he wants so badly and you’ll have to deal with him.”

“No, you will.”

“Will what? I don’t even want to know what you mean. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I let out a long sigh and it all spilled out. “Lara, all I want is to be with you. That’s all I can think about. But I’ve fallen in love with a ghost. I’ll die if I can’t be with you. Do I have to die to be with you?”

“No, Jake. I told you, I am as alive as you are.”

“You’re sitting there on that rock, talking to me, and you don’t have a real body. If I put my hands on you, they go through thin air.”

“I love you, too, Jake. I know you love me, and I know you love this rainforest.”

“You say I need to stop this job. Help you stop the clear-cut. Are you with me because you need me to do something for you? Is that all this is?” The thought of that made my heart break. “Lara?”

She touched my face, but there was no flesh there. It was just a warm sensation. “I am a spirit just as you are. I have a body, just as you do. I am just not trapped in it. I am free to leave and come here to take care of my beloved jungle.”

She stood. “I love you. It will all turn out good. Do not worry. I know you will protect this rainforest. I have to go. I have another life, and I will see you in that life.”

She was so quick, I hardly saw her leave.

 

A month later, I was in the city of São Luís, a city in northeastern Brazil, on São Luís Island in the Atlantic Ocean, a pretty city with long stretches of beach for me to wander and think. And I had plenty of time to wander because I was without a job. The computer parts never did arrive. Turned out the company’s credit was bad. Did I get fired? No, I had just delayed the operation with my little sabotage. No parts, no work, and no lumber. It turned out Richards’ constant anxiety was justified, because the company was on the verge of bankruptcy, and the delays on this job sent it over the cliff. I was out of a job because the company folded.

I wasn’t upset about losing the job. That was a relief, really. What plagued me was I knew someone else would acquire the property and Lara the bird-girl still had work to do if she was going to save her rainforest.

Work? What would she do? Find another guy like me to bewitch, who would find ways to delay the clear-cutting? Would he fall in love with her as I did?

A breeze came up as I walked the streets. Street vendors hawked their wares, and car horns blared. I was only vaguely aware of the chaos of the city. Work for me? Get another job logging with another company? I just didn’t have the heart for it anymore. My life no longer made sense. There was something that had happened in the jungle that made me realize I lived a shallow, empty life. No purpose that meant anything to make a difference in the world, besides selling lumber. I was not aware of that before, really. Like that hummingbird, Lara knew exactly what she was doing and what she wanted.

And how to get it.

I was thinking that maybe I would see if Greenpeace was hiring, or some other environmental organization, when I saw a girl about a block away. She was walking out of a bank, putting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. She had on a black skirt, white blouse and a short purple jacket. Just a regular person, but I thought I recognized the figure and the long black hair. Something about the way she walked.

Adrenaline thudded and my heart skipped a beat. When the sun hit her at a certain angle, there was just a flash of iridescence.

It was Lara. I was sure of that. I took off running toward her.

She turned right at the corner. When I got there, I stopped and looked down the street. She was gone. How?

She had to have gone into one of the many apartment buildings. Which one? I wandered up and down the street and looked up at windows, hoping to spot her. I paced the block back and forth for an hour until I finally sat down on a curb. I gave up. I realized I would never find her. She was a creature of the jungle, not a city girl. I was imagining that I saw her. How stupid could I be?

I stood and straightened my clothes, ready to find a place to eat when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned and gasped.

“Lara?”

I touched her shoulder. It was solid, real, and flesh.

“Hello, Jake. You found me. I knew you would.”

I stood dumbly, staring at her, and then just blurted out, “I love you, Lara.”

She smiled as my face turned red and my eyes filled, so embarrassed at my clumsiness.

Finally, I said, “I’m sorry, so I’m confused. Who are you? What are you?”

“Jake, I am human, just as you are. I told you that before. But when I go to the jungle, I am no longer flesh and blood. I am the jungle. My soul is there, and my body lives here.”

“Will you be with me, Lara?”

“Yes, Jake.”

I gazed into those large dark eyes and I knew my life would never be the same. Taking her into my arms, I was relieved that she was real, solid, and I could feel her warmth against my body. I kissed her and she kissed me back.

I stopped and held her by the shoulders. “Lara, we’ll save the rainforest. I’ll help you. I don’t know how, but I will. We’ll do it together.”

“Yes, Jake. Together.”

Her and I. I had found that illusive thing to fill the void, found the purpose that would set my world on fire. And like the hummingbird, I could have the same ambition it had, fairly bursting with joy in work, competent in knowing exactly where I would find my reward, using the spirit of play in taking the sweet nectar of the flower.