Chapter 6
Finn and Andria began their search for the Curar tribe by visiting the local Amazonian travel agencies. Each agency offered anywhere from a one day to a one week trip into the jungle. These trips also came with a variety of standard options to visit tourist attractions and popular destinations but none of them had any information pertaining to the Curar tribe.
“Looks like we’re going to have to dig a little deeper for answers,” Andria said.
“So it would seem,” Finn said. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope. But it is getting close to lunchtime. What do you say we think about it over a plate of Ceviche and or Coxinhas?”
“Sounds good to me,” Finn said, scanning the area. He spotted a cantina styled building ahead on the left. The buildings outside walls were painted in bright, vibrant yellows, blues and pinks. “There’s a place up ahead with an outdoor patio and umbrellas offering plenty of shade. That work for you?”
“Perfecto,” Andria said, gesturing a thumbs up.
They leisurely walked up the street a block and a half to the restaurant’s front entrance. The door was propped open with a brick. They took it as an invitation to enter. Once inside they were greeted by a hostess and seated with menus on the patio overlooking the busy street traffic. After a few minutes of perusing the menu choices a waitress appeared with bottled water and asked to take their orders. They each ordered, then sat back to brainstorm their options.
Andria had just opened with a discussion point when Finn interrupted her with a question. “Aside from all the myths and legends associated with humans living forever, do you buy this “Elisha Pool” version of the Fountain of Youth?” he asked.
“I’ll admit my head is still spinning from all that we’ve seen and heard over the past few days,” Andria said. “But unlike you, each piece of added information seems to strengthen my view instead of fueling my desire to disprove it.”
Finn nodded his agreement. “It’s true I enjoy playing the devil’s advocate, but…”
As if on queue a bus passed by in front of the restaurant. It had a Christian cross and the word Missionário painted on its side. The image sparked a memory from Andria’s childhood.
“Finn,” Andria said, in a high-pitched voice. “When I was younger, our church sent money every month to groups of foreign missionaries. A couple of times, when they were in town, I remember them visiting the church and showing us slideshows of what they had accomplished,” she said.
“And?” Finn questioned, not following her train of thought.
“And, many of those missionaries were located in Central and South America,” she said. “Which means…
“Which means…” Finn said, his eyes brightening as he interrupted her, “that there’s a fair chance a group of American missionaries has stumbled upon the Curar tribe and could help us. That’s brilliant!”
“Thanks,” Andria said, blowing on her nails. “It’s all in the wrist.”
Chapter 7
An hour before dusk the Translator and four tribesmen — covered in ceremonial white, red, black and yellow body paint and hoisting the Sedan Chair — announced their presence at the front of the straw hut where Stephenson and Owen had been sent to wait before their departure.
When Stephenson emerged from the hut he was sporting a traditional Curar thin linen robe and grass skirt. He’d been instructed to wear the outfit as part of the ceremony. It also conveyed a sign of respect for the tribe’s customs.
The Translator handed Stephenson a blindfold and led him to the Sedan Chair. Stephenson looked down at the blindfold and smiled. In his case, there was no need for a blindfold, but being asked to wear it was his own private joke. He stepped inside the chair then secured the blindfold over his eyes.
Owen was also given a blindfold. He was also handed the tail end of a rope; the other end was attached to the rear of the Sedan Chair. His instructions were simple. Remain silent and follow behind the chair on foot by keeping a hold on the rope. A few seconds later the Chief Medicine Man strode by authoritatively leading a procession of extravagantly dressed villagers carrying lighted torches followed by a small army of tribesmen carrying spears. When the villagers had passed, the four tribesmen responsible for the Sedan Chair lifted Stephenson into the air and inserted themselves into the procession between the torchbearers and spear-carriers. At the end of the line, two young boys, walking side by side, carried small pails filled with lighted incense. They waved the pails in a deliberate figure eight motion to expel the smoke in all directions to ward off evil spirits from sneaking up behind them. The superstitious procession continued its silent cadence until it was completely swallowed by the forest.
It was dark when they reached the secret entrance. When the procession stopped, the translator instructed Stephenson and Owen to remove their blindfolds. As before, the leaves were parted and the procession entered into the opening of the enormous depression where the mystical pool awaited at the bottom. As the torches were put into place around the edges of the depression, Stephenson’s memory of the layout was quickly verified. This was indeed the same place he remembered from his younger days. It was completely unchanged save for some of the participants in the audience.
Owen stood in awe behind his grandpa, absorbing the captivating experience with all his senses.
Off in the distance, the sounds of chants and drumbeats started low then incrementally increased. As if on que, a dozen extravagantly dressed villagers burst from the crowd twirling cane-sized wooden totems and began dancing about in tight figure-eight circles. Within minutes they were shouting and thrusting the handmade totems into the air encouraging the crowd into a frenzy. The excitement around the pool was rapidly gaining momentum.
Abruptly the procession stopped and Stephenson exited the Sedan Chair. He was led up a winding row of steps carved into the hillside. Hugging the backside of the small ridge he soon stood overlooking the torch-lit valley below.
Upon his exit, Owen was led in the opposite direction to a place of honor on the front row closest to the pool. Owen swallowed hard, then squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a long, deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, his grandpa stood ready to experience the most unbelievable occurrence of his life.
I’m about to witness the rebirth of my grandfather.
With assistance from a droopy rope hand-rail, Stephenson slowly took his rightful place atop the first downward facing step in preparation for his descent into the pool.
When Stephenson was ready, the Medicine Man stepped onto a wooden platform beside the pool. He was wearing a strange looking mask and straw headdress lined with a crown of feathers. With both hands gripped around the ends of a carved wooden staff, the Medicine Man raised his arms high into the air and gave a loud shout. The drums changed beat to a quicker tempo and Stephenson was signaled to begin his descent down into the water.
With a broad, giddy smile stretched across his face Stephenson carefully eased his way down the steps. “I will be alive evermore,” he whispered.
When he reached the water’s edge he noticed a brilliant purple hued sheen standing on the water’s surface. It wasn’t quite glowing, but almost. He turned to look at Owen, who was as wide-eyed as he’d ever seen him. Stephenson smiled at his grandson then gazed at the Medicine Man waiting for his cue. The Medicine Man mumbled some words while waving his staff then pointed toward the water. Without a moment’s hesitation, Stephenson discarded his glasses and sucked in a deep breath then jumped into the purple, bubbling water where he sank like a rock. The water was thick and warm and massaged his entire body as he sank deeper. He was under the water for what seemed an eternity before anything happened. Finally, a resurgence circuited through his system. He used the jolt of energy to kick his feet and arms back up toward the water’s surface. He was swimming so hard when he reached the top that he shot out of the water like a bullet fired from a rifle. Two tribesmen stood like bookends beside the Chief and immediately grabbed him under the arms and pulled him onto the platform.