“There are many blond Portuguese people,” River supplied, not knowing where this was going.
“Yes, that’s true. But many of them are newly arrived. They came after World War Two. Some were war criminals who were terrible and cruel. Some might have been taken for war criminals—they were good people, but they didn’t want to go to the workhouses or the gas chambers themselves. They knew that terrible things were happening and many of them wanted to do something, but they were afraid. They came here or escaped to other places as quickly as they could. Some came here when they began to see the changes and they came rather than starve. But in all people, those who are evil can’t always be distinguished from those who are just afraid. Do I make sense? It’s often hard to see what lies in a man’s heart. So, you may find good police officers—but they have wives and children, and while they see things that horrify them, they will be too afraid to do anything. Do you understand?”
“I understand. I still believe in the brave—and I believe in strength when enough people see what is going on and determine to face it together.” River thought about his afternoon with Natal. He was falling head over heels for her, but still—he liked her so much because she was free, because she believed in justice, because she would never be cruel. “I believe in the brave—who will risk everything.”
“Then you are just silly, my friend. This isn’t your war; you don’t need to fight it.”
He didn’t want to think about war—even the word could make him smell gunpowder and see the earth as it exploded around him.
River fell silent for a moment, then said, “Well, my friend, I’ll collect Convict. We will find a place under the stars.”
Beluga sniffed. “Stay awhile; have a shower, relax. Then go sleep under the stars.”
River grinned. “Thanks, Beluga.” He had rinsed off after at a freshwater spray station at the beach. But it hadn’t been much. He was going to see Natal again the next day. He would be clean—even if he did sleep on the ground after his shower.
He headed to the main house. Maria chastised him for being gone so long—and leaving her with a dog. But her hand was on Convict’s head, and when River had showered and was ready to leave, she seemed loathe to let Convict go. She told River that he could leave Convict with her any time.
“Maria, you are the best,” he told her.
“Yes, I am,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t you forget that.”
He smiled, about to start out. But then he paused and said, “You really are the best. Always so nice.” He hesitated, not sure how to ask the question. “Are you happy?”
Maria’s eyebrows shot up. “Happy? No one is happy all the time. But mostly, yes.”
“I need to find you a man,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. “You think a man is all it takes to make me happy? Anyway, I have one already.”
River chuckled. “But you work with Beluga. I mean a man to love.”
“I do love Beluga.”
“I mean as in a great romance.”
“I had my great romance and it is still here,” she told him, a hand on her heart. “Now I have Beluga, like a brother. Are we ecstatic every day? Maybe not. But we are content. We like what we do. Yes, maybe … yes. I am happy. Why do you ask?”
He hugged her and spun her around, causing her to squeal, “River!”
He set her down. She was grinning and flushed.
“Just wanted you to know you really are the best,” he told her.
“Obrigado!” she told him. “Thank you.”
Grinning, he left her at last.
The hostel was full; there were one or two older guests, a group of young counselors, and what seemed to be a tribe of twenty-some teenagers. They were cheerful and smiled when they saw him; they were on a group trip, he learned, and were anxious to see the countryside and Rio.
One of the boys told him in a whisper—because it was a church group—he mostly wanted to see the half-naked women getting ready for their Carnaval dancing.
“Enjoy; it is a beautiful city,” River told him, winking.
“I like the women; Reverend Thornberry says we must see the Christ the Redeemer statue,” the boy whispered.
“There is nothing wrong with appreciating the beauty of a woman,” River said. He noted that Maria had come from the house and the reverend was speaking with her in halting Portuguese. “And you won’t have problems doing that. They are everywhere. Just be respectful.”
“Of course!” the boy exclaimed, shocked.
River grinned. “Are you going to any of the beaches?”
The boy nodded. “Ipanema.”
“You’ll see plenty of lovely women,” River assured him.
“And we’re going to see some of the parades—we’re staying through Carnaval.”
“Then you’ll see beautiful dancers too.”
“Samba!”
“I promise you—you’ll see plenty of samba dancing.”
“Do you like the beaches here?” the boy asked.
River nodded, a little hesitantly. When he thought of beaches, he thought of Natal … but he also thought of Tio Amato. He was becoming somewhat obsessed with the very thought of the man, he realized. But, maybe he couldn’t help it.
Tio Amato just hurt—even killed—people.
God alone knew where the man might be. He’d surely be smart enough never to prey upon a North American religious group.
Still, River found himself warning the boy. “Don’t wander from your group. You’ll see all the wonders you can imagine—but listen to the reverend as well.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” the boy said quickly.
River grinned. “Really.”
The boy flushed.
“Yeah, of course. I mean, I’m not like you—you know what you’re doing here. You know your way around. You know what to watch out for.”
Yes, I do, River thought. The problem was that the whole thing with Tio Amato seemed to be eating at him.
Let it go, he told himself. Just let it go.
Think about Natal. Just Natal.
“Tomorrow, the Christ the Redeemer statue,” the boy said.
The very thought of the statue—where he would soon see Natal—made his heart race. “You’ll love it. It’s all amazing, the trip, the statue—everything. It’s so big and so high in the mountains, you can see it from many places. But go all the way up to it, if you can—that’s the most spectacular. And who knows—you may see half-naked women along the way,” River teased.
He left the boy’s side to go collect Convict. Maria seemed almost sorry to see the dog go.
“You bring him, back, River,” she ordered. “You bring him back when you go off again. No crazies will take the dog—he is a good dog.”
River gave Maria a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll watch out. Of course, I’ll bring him to you when I have business where a dog cannot be.”
“You had best, River. Beluga—he loves that dog now too, you know.”
“I know, and I’m grateful,” River assured her.
*