American Drifter

“Detroit,” Blake offered. “And you?”

River was glad that he was preoccupied by angling out of his backpack because, for the life of him, he suddenly couldn’t remember where he was really from.

“All over,” he said.

“Ah, army brat?” Marty asked.

“Something like that,” River agreed. “What kind of special study?”

“We’re social science majors,” Alicia replied. “We’re going into some of the rainforests and meeting with indigenous tribes.”

“That sounds fascinating.”

“Oh, it will be. We’re here for three months; we’ll get to see so much. I’m sorry we won’t be able to take you all the way, but we’re right around Espírito Santo now. We can get you down as far as Campos. We’re about ten hours away—and then you’ll only have a few more.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Not so kind,” Blake said. “I’ve been driving for hours and we’re all taking turns. You feel like driving? I mean, you have a license? You drive, right?”

“Yes—of course,” River said. He was a good driver, but he was still surprised. If they had a rental agreement, the slightest accident—even with a chicken truck—could be real trouble for him.

But Blake, driving to the embankment so they could exchange places, grinned at him. “You look concerned. Don’t be. It’s not a rental. We picked it up from Alicia’s uncle in Natal. Altogether, man, from there, it’s about a twenty-five-hour drive. If you’re up and awake and in for it, you can take her for the next few hours!”

“Sure, of course. I can put in for gas too,” River told him.

“Now, you’re the best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up,” Blake said.

For a while, when he started driving, his new foursome of friends chatted about themselves and their studies. They considered themselves incredibly lucky that Alicia had relatives in the country—it made it cheaper for them. Alicia talked about Brasília—how modern and new and big everything was—and Blake argued that S?o Paolo and Rio were his favorite cities because they weren’t new and big and modern.

They talked about the amazing wonders of the country. Alicia hadn’t been to Santarém, their destination, a city of about a quarter of a million people where the Amazon and Tapajós rivers met. From there, guides would take them out into the rainforest.

River listened to them talk. And, to his amazement, while he hadn’t been to the places they were talking about, he was able to converse easily.

He’d done a lot of reading on the country.

“You’ve been here awhile?” Alicia asked.

“Yes, awhile. I should have gotten further,” he told her.

“Yeah, well, you find something you like and you stay in one place easily,” Marty said.

“Oh, please, we stay in places because of people,” Susan put in.

“Or,” Blake teased, “we go places because of people.”

“So that’s it,” Marty said, leaning forward. “There’s a girl in Rio.”

“There is a girl in Rio,” River admitted. He was surprised that he was smiling—maybe a little foolishly. But it was nice, he realized, to be with these young people.

They reminded him that he was still fairly young. And that it was natural to want to be with someone you cared about. And it was actually fun to have them tease him about Natal. He described her in glowing terms.

“She’s stunning. She has huge blue eyes and her lashes are rich and dark and her hair … it’s glorious. When they say raven’s wing—that is the color of Natal’s hair. Her cheeks are high; she has a perfect nose. She’s about five-seven, slim—but beautifully shaped, mind you. Honestly, it’s not just the way she looks—it’s the way she moves. It’s that mischief in her eyes, or the sorrow and the anger in them when she’s seen an injustice. She writes—she writes about the world around her and what she sees and thinks. She’s … amazing,” River told them.

Susan gave Blake a swat on the shoulder. “You should talk about me like that.”

“I do,” Blake protested.

“Wow. I know why you’re going to Rio,” Marty told him dryly.

“Hey, you,” Alicia protested. She slapped his arm.

“Okay, okay—wait,” Marty said. “My girl is … well, beautiful.”

“Very good. Go on,” Alicia said.

“She’s got dark hair and a pretty face.”

“Never mind. Don’t go on—that’s terrible,” Alicia said. “Blake—what do you have to say about Susan?”

“Oh, well, she’s beautiful, of course,” Blake said.

“Standard start—let’s see what else you’ve got,” Marty said dryly.

“Well, she’s blond. And energetic and athletic and—”

“Stop! Athletic?” Susan said.

“That’s not good?” Blake asked.

“Hopeless,” Susan said.

“Yes, the two of you just keep quiet,” Alicia advised.

“I’m just saying,” Marty protested. “Come on, Alicia. I mean, I don’t have to go to Rio—I have you right here. Hey, River—way to make us look bad.”

“Sorry!” River said. “I just—”

“Don’t make it worse,” Blake teased.

“You two are making it worse—you just don’t sound the same,” Susan said, sighing. She remained in the front seat next to River and spoke to him sincerely. “I’m so happy for you—and for your gorgeous beloved. Are you two going to celebrate Carnaval there?”

“At this point, I guess we will,” River said.

If Natal managed to get there.

She would be there; she had avoided the men in the blue suits—she would be ahead of him. She would go every day to the statue.

Until he found her.

Or she found him.

You will always find me, she had said.

He smiled.

“Look at him, Alicia—just when he thinks about her,” Susan said.

Marty groaned from the back. “Okay, he’s poetic.”

They laughed and teased awhile longer. Then, River realized, the foursome began to drift off. That was okay; he liked driving in silence as well.

He kept his eye on the gas tank and the road signs, knowing he would have to stop. When he did, he put his backpack over his shoulder and went in to the store. He pumped gas and when he headed back to the driver’s seat, he saw that only Marty remained in the van.

“Bathroom break,” Marty said. “You know girls. Well, and Blake too. No kidneys on that boy. I guess it will be easier for him, though, when we’re in the rainforest.”

“I’m sure it will be,” River said.

He stood by the van, waiting and watching.

He was going to have to stop being so nervous; he was heading back to Rio. If there weren’t more of the blue-suited men there, the ones he knew about would figure out that he had headed back to the city.

He and Natal would stay. Once he was with Natal again, they would make a new plan. Perhaps they would head to the rainforests too. A guide could take them and they could see the wonders of the Amazon River and meet indigenous people. In fact, it was something he was certain he had once dreamed of doing.

“We’re back,” Susan said, opening the front passenger-seat door. “And I bought you a soda—they had them in bottles in there and I thought you might like one.”