Expedition to the Unknown

Chapter 6

Owen walked into the dining room as Claire, Thad, and Molly finished eating. Claire looked up as he shuffled over to their table with his hat pushed back off his brow. Pulling a chair up, he sat beside Thad, and let out a gaping yawn. Claire searched his expression. As an anthropologist, she prided herself on reading people"s faces and actions. Since she heard what Manny had said, she knew if he were up to no good, his expression would betray him. But his face, which was sporting the beginnings of a dark, gold beard, showed only exhaustion.

“So, all settled in?” he said to the group.

Draining the rest of his soda, Thad nodded, leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I"m heading up,” he announced, and dug a twenty note out of his pants pocket. Tossing it on the table, he added, “What time we push off tomorrow?”

Owen shoved the money back at him. “It"s all taken care of, mate. We leave at six … sharp.”

“Six?” Molly said, her eyes widening.

“Sharp,” Owen repeated, taking off his hat and setting it on the table. “How"s da skeeter bites?”

“They were doing fine "til you just mentioned them,” Molly snapped. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Owen said, shooting Claire a wink. “Make sure ya wear ya long pants tomorrow, eh.”

Molly groaned. “You are a tool!” She bade the rest of the group goodnight and slogged out of the room.

“Think I"m off, too,” Jorge said, getting up. “Where are we meeting in the morning?”

“In da lobby,” Owen said. He cast a boyish grin at Claire. “Seems like I"m scaring "em off. What "bout ya? Ya deserting me, too?”

Claire waved to Jorge and Thad as they headed toward their rooms, then turned back toward Owen. “No, I"ll keep you company,” she said, wondering how to bring up his mysterious disappearing act. Although Owen was easy-going, and she had to admit she liked him, she couldn"t tolerate secret dealings that could put her expedition in jeopardy.

Owen called the waiter over and ordered a butifarras and a bottle of beer. They sat awhile afterward discussing Tarapoto and the day"s events, until the waiter came back with Owen"s supper. He bit into the sandwich, and with his mouth half-full, said, “Well, it"s onta da river tomorrow. Ya ready?”

“Ready as I"ll ever be. Too bad you couldn"t have joined us earlier. We had an interesting discussion,” Claire said.

“That so? "Bout what?”

“Art, the river, the forest … you.”

Owen grinned. “Me, eh?”

Claire smiled, downed the last of her beer and said, “Yeah, like … where were you?”

Without a blink, he said, “Rounding up goodies for my mates, why?”

Very funny, Mr. Macleod. Goodies indeed! “Fine, have your little secret, but this is my expedition, and the last thing I need to worry about is you doing something illegal and landing us all in jail.”

Very funny, Mr. Macleod. Goodies indeed!“I"m touched,” he said as the waiter came back to ask if they needed anything more. After the man left, Owen took a long pull of his beer and smacked his lips. “Damn, but that hits da spot.” He paused, and as he eyed her, his smile dimmed. After a moment, he leaned forward and said, “Okay, you"re da boss-lady, but there"s something ya need ta understand. We"re not on holiday here. We"re going deep into da sss, an" people don"t play by da rules there, yeah. So, when it comes ta getting ya there an" back, my rules trump yours. An" for that matter, Manny"s too. Understand?”

Claire stiffened. “As long as you keep things on the up-and-up, we"ll be fine.”

Sitting back, Owen snatched his beer bottle and found his smile. “Of course we will. You wanna"nother drink? I"m buying.”

She looked at him dumbfounded. In the span of moments he went from a laid back bad boy to a no-nonsense take-charge commando and back again. Suddenly, she didn"t know whether to resent or respect him. “No, I"m good.”

Owen yawned. “That Molly"s a real pistol.”

Despite her mixed feeling at the moment, Claire couldn"t help from grinning. “That, she is. You like twitting her don"t you?”

“Keeps her on her toes. Though, I have a good feeling, she"s on "em most da time,” he said. When the waiter returned with his beer, he said, “Say, didn"t mean ta get surly back there. Just wanna make sure I bring everyone back, is all.”

“Well, I would expect nothing less for what I"m paying you,” Claire said, watching him gobble down the last of his sandwich. “Say, my eyes are starting to get heavy, so I guess I"m going to have to desert you after all. See you in the morning.”

“I"ll be there. Oh, one thing "fore ya head up.”

“What"s that?” Claire said getting up.

“Make sure ya all have ya visas and immunization docs handy tomorrow.”

“Why? We"ve got a ways to go before we hit the border.”

“Yeah, I know, "cept we"re on da water. Rules are a bit different there. Ya have a good night. Cheers.”

The team arrived around eleven at the tiny village of Yurimagus on the headwaters of the great river. It was now past noon and most of the gear had been transported onto the large twin prop diesel-powered boat that would be their home for the next seven or eight days. Owen walked up to the bow of the seventy-five foot vessel and stood behind a steel rail sorely in need of paint. As he looked out over the muddy waters of the sss, he felt like he"d come home after a long trip. He took a deep breath of the pungent diesel and fish scented air swirling over the waters and smiled. There ya are, yeah. My Lady, Amassona. I wonder what surprises ya have for me this time.

There ya are, yeah. My Lady, Amassona. I wonder what surprises ya have for me this time.“Penny for your thoughts,” Claire said, coming up beside him. She had two cans of beer and offered him one.

“What"s this? For me?” Owen said, taking it. He tipped his hat to her and drank in her faded blue jeans and thin, white gauze shirt with its sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A thick hank of hair was loosely tied behind her graceful neck and the top two buttons of her shirt were open, offering him a hint of cleavage. A gentle breeze skipping across the water played with her upturned collar.

“You worked hard,” she said.

“Ahhh, it"s nothing, but thank ya all da same,” Owen said. As the last few items he had picked up the night before were loaded onto the Lírio do Rio, he took a long drink of his beer and nodded toward the river. “In this country, it"s called Amassona by some and Apurimac by others. Looks tame, but don"t let it fool ya. People "cross da border, call it da Boat Destroyer, an" for good reason.”

“Rapids?”

“Yeah that, but mostly "cause it can change in a heartbeat. One minute, deep as can be, then "round da next bend, just a few meters, say nothing of flash floods an" stumps hiding "neath da surface.”

“Sounds like we"re in for quite a ride,” she said, gazing out over the water. Behind them, the Lírio do Rio"s main engine revved, sending out a large puff of gray smoke.

“Sure are,” he said, admiring her profile. For a moment he felt like he could talk to her about anything, but the thought quickly evaporated. He drained his beer and turned back toward the river. “She an" I go back a long ways, yeah. She"s like family. Some people say she has mystical powers. Don"t know "bout that, but I know she"s in my blood.”

Claire smiled. “It is mesmerizing.” She turned toward him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How come you don"t live here? Isn"t traveling back and forth a pain? It"s not like you"re commuting across town.”

Owen bit his lip as the image of his dead son flashed before his eyes. “Sometimes, I ask myself da same question. Guess I don"t like da idea of abandoning home an" family.”

Claire nodded. “You have a large one?”

“Not really. My Mum; she"s living in one of da fancy care facilities. Pop passed several years ago from a medical complication; embolism from a prior injury. My brother raises deer an" sheep on da south island.”

“Deer?” Claire said, c*****g her brow. The wooden deck under their feet lurched as the Lírio do Rio pushed away from the dock.

“Yeah, what about it?” Owen said, glad to steer her away from the subject of family.

“Never heard of raising deer. I take it, kiwi"s are big on venison.”

“Some of us are. I can take or leave it,” Owen said. He crushed the empty beer can in his hand with ease and tossed in a barrel nearby. “Ya like venison, do ya?”

“It"s alright.” She fell quiet a minute as the boat motored out into the main current.

Content to leave her to her thoughts, Owen watched a group of young boys playing football on a grassy field near the passing shoreline. His thoughts shifted back to his son. Calen would"ve been fifteen next month. The greenstone that hung around his neck beneath his shirt had belonged to Calen. It was the only thing left he had of his son except haunting memories and dreams that taunted him from time to time.