American Drifter

He was careful as he made his way through the streets; he was in a hurry, but he wasn’t rude. A few people spoke to him in passing. Music seemed to come from every shop and restaurant doorway.

Small parades were already making their way through the streets, and eventually River had to pause to let one pass. The parade was being put on by one of the many samba schools in the city. The last float was the most amazing. It was filled with beautiful dancers, moving about their platform with grace and beauty, the women dressed in skimpy white costumes, the men in black tuxedos. The sight was mesmerizing, and as the float passed, people stopped and stared, awed at first, then clapping enthusiastically. Samba seemed to be imbedded in the very blood of the city, but the dance being performed on the float seemed to transcend the concept of human motion. It wasn’t that difficult to be caught up with the crowd, to blend with the crowd. The beauty of the movement was almost hypnotic. He imagined Natal in such a costume; she could, he was certain, move with equal grace.

Of course, she would have him as a partner, but he could learn. There were samba schools on almost every corner in Rio—he could find the right one. She loved dancing and music and he did too; for her, he would really learn how to dance.

He shook his head. For now, he had to avoid the men following him and find Natal. They would have to leave until he could figure out the real purpose of the men in the blue suits. Until they were rid of Tio Amato. First things first—then the dream could begin.

At last, the float passed. River looked around—no blue suits that he could see. He hurried on through the city, headed to the cog train that went up to the Christ the Redeemer statue. No one followed him; he was certain of that.

The cog train was full; to keep his mind firmly in the present, he watched those who had never been on it before. It didn’t matter what language they were speaking—their appreciation of the glorious views from the train were evident in their wonder.

The human condition, he found himself thinking. Men and women were so much the same, no matter where one went. There was the instinct for survival. There was whatever it was that lived in the soul that made people long for love, for that feeling of being together, moving forward, dreaming together, just seeking that happiness that has nothing to do with money and everything to do with the feeling of being as cherished as you cherish that special person.

There was nothing like sharing the wonders of the world with someone you loved; he saw it in the faces of the happy couples on the train, saw it as they pointed to one another. There was nothing like striving for a family, for that complete feeling …

He heard the laughter of a child. A sound that was happiness itself, one of the pure beauties of life. It was a sound like water dancing over stones, light and melodic on the air.

And yet …

It touched something deep inside of him. And, for a moment, he forgot the men in blue, forgot even his quest to find Natal. And he felt …

Pain. A staggering sense of pain.

The cog train stopped, shaking River from his thoughts as he followed the rest of the passengers off.

When he arrived at the statue, he walked around the base. Twice. Three times. He listened to a guide telling visitors that the statue was ninety-eight feet tall and that it had been dedicated on October 31, 1931, but was not consecrated until October 12, 2006. River wondered if it mattered when it had been built—it was an icon in the world. But more than that, there was something in the statue’s artistry that touched the human heart. It was the welcoming arms, he thought.

Staring up at the statue, something flashed through his head.

For a moment, he heard that sweet sound of laughter again. He pictured a house that was warm and smelled sweetly of something baking …

He would be welcome there; outstretched arms would greet him, loving and encompassing arms like those of the statue.

Someone bumped into him and apologized profusely. He thought she might have been Scandinavian; her English and Portuguese mixed with something entirely different. He waved away her concerns but didn’t engage in conversation, still clinging to the edges of his vision. It was so close he could touch it …

“I’ve seen the one in the Florida Keys,” a young man said, walking along with a girl, his arm around her. “Underwater—it’s a copy on one of the reefs. It’s cool, really cool—you dive down to see it. But it’s nothing next to this.”

They walked on by.

River looked around for men in blue suits; he didn’t see any.

And so he started around the base of the statue again with the throngs of people visiting. Not everyone came for Carnaval, he thought; some came just to see the Christ the Redeemer statue.

It was when he had just about given up hope of finding Natal in the crowd that he suddenly felt arms sweep around him. He turned, and she was there. Her face was radiant.

“I knew that you would find me,” she said.

He laughed. “I think you found me.”

She was oddly grave for a minute, looking up at him.

“You and I—we will always find one another,” she said.

He needed to tell her what was going on with him—she had trusted him last night. She had simply run with him. She had brought him to the lake in the park and then …

Then they had made love and he had sketched her. He hadn’t even remembered that they had been running—his concentration had been on her.

He needed to tell her what had happened.

Her name left his lips and then he paused, looking at her—really looking at her. He felt as if something were boiling up inside him—anger so hot he could barely contain it. Not against her—but against anyone who could do such a thing to anyone, much less a woman.

Natal had tried to cover it with makeup, but she had a black eye.

“He hit you?” River demanded, shaking.

She shook her head.

“You didn’t run into a door,” he told her. “Natal, please, don’t lie to me.”

“River, don’t look at me like that. Listen to me, I beg you. Don’t waste your anger on such a man; he isn’t worth it. I’m begging you—let it go. I told him that I’m leaving him. In a way, it was my own fault. No one should ever strike out in anger, but I … I went a little crazy and I struck him first; he is so accustomed to violence that he struck back. He was sorry for that and all I wanted was to get away. Please, River—let it go. I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt because you tried to retaliate on my behalf. River—I have broken with him. I am free—please don’t ruin that. There is nothing you can do but be with me. Don’t ruin my new life by losing yours.”

He held still. He felt the sweetness of the sun falling down upon him and the cool touch of the mountain air.

She was right. What could he do? Go to Tio Amato’s house and burst in and beat the man to a pulp?

He would never get past the doorway. Amato had many men—with guns.

That left walking in with his own gun blazing and then there would be nowhere that he could run.

And he’d never be with Natal.