It was an effort not to shout. River didn’t want to terrify the woman. “But?” he pressed.
“They have him out on bail for now. He isn’t due to appear in court again for almost a month.”
River stood. He didn’t care about his coffee anymore; he had to be on the first cog train up to the statue. Natal might not be there yet, but he’d wait. He’d wait there until he found her—because he had to find her and they had to get out of Rio together. He didn’t know where she had gone, but he was absolutely certain that she would come back to the one place they talked about so much, loved so much.
“Thanks for telling me,” he said, trying to appear interested—but casually so. “Let’s hope they lock him away—for Rio.”
“For Rio, for Brazil—for the betterment of man.”
“Amen,” River muttered.
He left money on the table and started out.
“Sir, you’re welcome to the paper!” the woman called.
River barely heard her. He hurried to the station. The windows had opened; he bought his ticket. That done, he bought water and sandwiches, since he didn’t know how long he’d be waiting. Within a few minutes he was on the platform, considering his situation.
There was no question; Amato would now be after him.
It didn’t really make any sense, though.
Hadn’t Amato already been after him? Hadn’t he sent the men in the blue suits?
Or were they police? Did he have to worry about police—and Amato’s revenge?
There was only one thing for him to do—find Natal and get out of the city. He loved Rio, but … Brazil was such a big country. And he and Natal needed so little. She just wanted to write—and be with him. If they could get to one of the cities by the rainforest, she’d be in seventh heaven. She could write wonderful articles on the way the forests were being torn down; she could write on the native people. They’d be far from the crowds of Rio, where no one would look for them and they could idle the days away until Amato was in jail for good and his reign in Rio was over.
People thronged into the station. He searched through the crowds for a glimpse of Natal.
He didn’t see her.
It was possible to take a complicated system of buses and vans or a taxi and a van to reach the statue. Then, as always, there would be a lot of uphill walking.
Natal had no reason to take a number of modes of transportation. She would come the way they had come—she would love the view from the cog train.
It came time to board the train and for a few moments, he looked around at the throngs of tourists. His heart sank. So many people. So many people in a city of millions—nearly doubled now with Carnaval at its peak.
You will always find me.
He would find her—or she would find him.
He’d had a seat on the train but stood to accommodate an older woman. She thanked him and sat. Around him, people talked about their parties, about the shows they would go to that evening. A Japanese family talked excitedly and looked out the windows. He heard French being spoken, and he was certain that a group behind him was speaking Russian or another language from an Eastern European country.
They stopped for the view, and it was indeed breathtaking.
But it was nothing without Natal.
Eventually they reached the station and he disembarked, looking up at the Christ the Redeemer statue.
It was dazzling in the sunlight. It seemed to cast a benign and welcoming watch over the city below.
He was jostled and realized that he’d stopped abruptly.
He didn’t see Natal—but then, it was almost impossible to see anyone. He thought about the times they had come before as he began to circle the base. He was watchful, for Natal—and the men in the blue suits. This was, after all, Rio. Returning here was risky.
But he’d risk anything for her.
At one point River thought that he caught a glimpse of her and he hurried around the corner again, tapping her arm when he reached her. But the young woman who turned around wasn’t Natal; it was a pretty Chinese girl with long dark hair. He apologized and turned away.
There were so many places she might be, and they could miss each other time and time again.
She would have had to come by train or bus—private cars had to have permission from the parks’ department, and the parks’ department had to have permission from the Church for those who wished to drive up the mountain themselves.
What about the men in the blue suits? If they were police, they’d have easy access, he thought. Authorities could usually get through to other authorities.
A tour guide was speaking in English, mentioning that over two million visitors a year came to the statue.
They came … and there were several ways up to the base.
River began to walk, heading back to the cog train platform, and then to the bus parking lot. He realized that he was gauging the area surrounding the statue as well; if she didn’t come today, she would come tomorrow. He looked back to check the crowd—no Natal, and no men in blue suits.
“Pardon!”
River had stumbled into a man in an army uniform. The soldier was young, a private first class.
“Sorry,” River said. “Hey, it’s busy up here.”
“Yeah, my last fling. I head out in two days.”
“Afghanistan?” River asked.
“Yeah.” The soldier squinted at him. “You’ve been there?”
River nodded. “Yeah. Two tours. But I’ve been out—medical discharge.”
“Ah, man, you doing all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just … hanging around Brazil.”
The soldier smiled. “Beautiful, huh. And the women?” Looking at River, he smiled. “Is that why you’re still hanging around down here?”
River smiled. “Yes. I’ve found a woman,”
“Good for you, man. Maybe I’ll have the same luck.”
Luck?
Something uneasy began to stir in River. But the soldier was smiling at him; River looked back at him and saw himself a few years before. Still so young. Still able to sleep without the sound of exploding bombs echoing in his ears.
But it wasn’t the memory of serving that tore at him. He had done his duty. He had fought, and he had remained alive. And when he had been wounded, they’d tended to him and.…
The memory stopped there.
He waved to the soldier and moved on. He was looking for Natal.
And this time, he was waiting until she arrived.
At the rear of the statue, at the roadway below the retaining wall for the base, the forest of the mountain gained hold again. He made his way down the stairs to that level and then looked over the encompassing wall.
It was impossible to wait until there was no one around.
River made a leap over the wall.
In areas, the ground pitched almost straight down. He’d avoid those.
But there was an area that had nice spacing between the trees; he could see the one entrance to the statue, and he was in a good position to see up to the base. Natal could come and he might not see her right away.
But he would see her.
He sat in the trees, ate one of his little sandwiches, and decided to hop the wall again. Once again, he headed up and circled the base.