“Oh, back to the colonial days, of course. Sure. Wonderful. Then, what is the story?”
“It’s always the same, for all peoples. In 1550, Pedro álvares Cabral arrived at Puerto Seguro. When he came, there were many native tribes living here. Two main groups spoke Tupi, but they were very different. The Temiminó were fascinated by the newcomers. And they were a lovely people—they were fishermen, they farmed the land, and they hunted. And they bathed. They made the explorers bathe too. They were hospitable and welcoming to those who came, but … There were also the Tamoio. They hated the newcomers! They were bitter, brutal enemies from the beginning!”
“Terrible,” River said. “Imagine that—they didn’t like giving up their land!”
Natal sighed and shook her head. “We are all guilty of that, eh? Anyone of European descent in the New World. That, however, is beside the point. You are ruining their beautiful love story.”
“I would never ruin a love story!” he protested.
“She was the daughter of a Temiminó chief—he was a great warrior of the Tamoio tribe, son of a great war leader. He could have swept her up and made her his slave, but he was in love, yet he was not allowed to be in love. He knew that he couldn’t force her to return his passion; he had to win her love. What he didn’t know was that she did love him. He was beautiful, and she knew that no matter where he came from, or what he had been taught, he was a good man deep inside. And so, though her people deplored him as the enemy, she wanted to be with him. But it would be horrible if they were caught; she might be thrown out, denied by her family forever. And he could face death for such a betrayal! So … they came here.”
He smiled. “I think I like my story best. I think my couple have a better chance at making it in the end.”
“Ah, well, love is always a beautiful story. There is a rich history here, yes? Next, we could tell a tale of love between a native girl and a Portuguese—she teaches him cleanliness first, so that he learns to bathe and keep his body fresh and beautiful, eh? Ah, when the explorers came at first, they were horrified and amazed. The native people did not think of their bodies as evil. They danced naked. Or maybe the explorers—men at first, of course!—were not so horrified. The women must have been very beautiful, eh? And that’s how our hero fell in love: he saw this beauty, dancing. She was naked, and as rich and beautiful as the earth, and he believed in all the freedom and music in her soul. But that’s for another day. Now … we must go.”
“No matter what year, no matter what nationality or tribe—he would protect her from all things, even to his own death,” River assured her.
“And she would lie down and die for him,” Natal said passionately. “We must get back.”
He couldn’t seem to dissuade her. He told himself that he had to be grateful for the time he’d had with her.
“We still have food,” he noted, even as she started to pack it away. But she was ready to go; they would go.
And he would pray for another time together.
“We will give it to the old people.”
“Just to the old people? Why not the young people too?”
“Because they are young. They will go to their separate homes and their parents will feed them. Even in Brazil, not every child cares for an aging parent.”
He folded the blanket and took the bundle of food from her, following her over to the older couple. He didn’t know what she said—he only knew that the old couple smiled and nodded and seemed grateful as he handed over the food and the blanket.
He flushed and nodded when they thanked him profusely.
Again, Natal caught his hand.
It was strangely more difficult going downhill than it had been coming up. Probably because while going up, he’d looked forward to the time with her. Coming down meant that she was going to leave.
She seemed to have grown a little tense as they reached the road again. She didn’t wear a watch so she looked at the sky.
He wanted to hold her; he wanted to tell her not to worry. He would be there, he would protect her …
He would be that lover, from any tribe, any nation, who would fight and die for her. Preferably not die, of course, since that would mean he wouldn’t be with her anymore.
And yet, how foolish a thought. He would protect her.
From what?
He didn’t know that she needed protecting from anything or anyone.
River was careful to remain easy. He desperately wanted to see her again. He had the feeling that if he tried to hold on to her—to the magic of the day—he never would.
He learned that people in this part of the world on the outskirts of the massive city of Rio de Janeiro were just nice—and accustomed to helping one another. They easily got a ride all the way back into the center of town. They didn’t have to slip onto a bus and slip off unnoticed; the appeal of more adventure seemed to be gone for Natal.
But when they stood in the square together, looking at one another, the noise of the shoeless children running around them seemed to disappear; the horns and laughter and music faded. Everything seemed to go to a distant place as he stared at her.
“I can see you home,” he said.
She shook her head. “No … free spirit, remember?” Her words were light, but there was an edge to her voice.
“A free spirit, and your perception, what you see … it becomes your writing?”
She shrugged.
“Can I see you again?”
She opened her arms, mimicking the open gesture of the Christ the Redeemer statue. “Of course. We are in Rio. We welcome you with open arms. I will see you again.”
“Where?”
“Where?” she repeated. “So many places, and all beneath that welcoming embrace!”
“So, somewhere, perhaps, to see the statue?”
“There are many places to view the statue. You can see it from almost everywhere.” She came to him and he felt the sweetness of her breath on his cheek. “I do love the Christ the Redeemer statue. You love the statue. But, tomorrow, you will find me at the beach.”
He smiled at that. Rio was all coast and lagoons and beautiful beaches. The coastline seemed to stretch forever.
“Which beach?” he asked her.
“Ipanema,” she said. “You know—I will be the girl from Ipanema!”
“Okay, Ipanema it is,” he told her.
“No! Wait, while I promise that I can find you anywhere, I will make this easy for both of us. The Copacabana,” she said. She set her hands on her hips in a charming gesture as she explained her plan. “If we head to Copacabana, you can find me easily. Just look for me in front of the Copacabana Palace. You know where that is, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Bring a suit or some trunks. Okay? We’ll soak in the sun and lie on the sand—like real tourists. And natives,” she added with a laugh.
“Anywhere,” he told her softly.
She seemed a little troubled by that; maybe he was coming on too strongly.
But her smile quickly returned.
“The beach is good,” she said. And then she waved, and she was gone.
River watched her go.