Read Coffee Online

Authors: gren blackall

Tags: #brazil, #coffee, #dartmouth, #finance, #murder, #nanotechnology, #options, #unrequited love, #women in leadership

Coffee (44 page)

“I
understand.”

“Do
you have money?”

“No,
but I will find a telephone. Someone from the States will come for
me.”

“You
must have enough for a taxi. Take this.” She offered a few
Reais
bills and some loose change. Etty took them, knowing
she could not refuse. Anna patted her back and sent her down the
path. “And may the Gods be with you, Ittie.”

Etty
walked cautiously along. She used her feet to judge the lay of the
thin path, walking in near pitch darkness. Leaves jutting out on
either side tickled her face. She felt the ‘V’ and
veered right. Soon, she heard the hushing of waves. Dim light from
the mainland hung in the trees. Then she came to the gate.

Surprised,
she saw it was slightly open and unlocked. She pushed slowly hoping
no one was standing on the other side. She slipped through. A much
brighter path led down to the base of a feeble dock. She ducked
back when she noticed two young men on the end, laughing and
throwing objects into the water. Etty strained to see. They were
oblivious of her, so she moved closer. She came upon a rock ledge.
Two pairs of army-style boots and socks lay haphazardly on the
ground. On the ledge sat some matches, a small metal smoking pipe,
and a plastic bag. She bent down for a closer look. “Marijuana!”
She looked now and saw that the two young men were wearing guard
uniforms. She whispered, “Out for a little smoke, ey boys?”

She
tried to think of a way to get past them to a boat, and realized to
her amazement what they were doing. They had piled animal guts and
chopped fish chunks on the dock. They tied pieces of the refuse
onto the end of long strands of twine. While holding onto a tall
piling which secured the end of the dock, they twirled the bait up
in the air and winged it out into the water. They kept a hold of
the other end of the twine. Seconds later, a splash of water burst
from where the meat hit, and the boys would hoot and whistle while
the twine pulled. Etty watched them repeat the trick a few times,
taking turns. The twine usually snapped, sending the boys into
howling laughter. “Sharks.” Etty remembered Anna’s
warning. “What stupid boys.”

Judging
how high they were on the marijuana by their haphazard movements,
she knew it wouldn’t take much to send them running. She
found a hulled, hairy coconut on the short beach. She positioned
herself next to a bush, then ‘bowled’ it down the dock,
and dashed into cover. She watched through the leaves. They froze
with the first knock of the coconut on the wooden boards, and then
both watched the ball roll slowly toward them. They didn’t
move until it finally rocked to a still position, only a few feet
from them.

“Hey!
Who’s there!” one yelled.

The
other one added, “Cut it out Mario! I know it’s you!”
They whispered to each other, and gathered their things. One had a
piece of bait tied and ready, but abandoned it to leave. He
casually hurled it into the water, but the long twine tangled on his
lower leg. The chunk of bloody fish hit the water. The boy reached
to untwist the string, but the shark hit hard before he had a chance
to finish. Although not strong line, it was enough to tug the boy’s
leg, and send him off balance into the water.

Etty
heard a deathly scream, and grasped her mouth. Etty could see the
boy’s head above the water, shaking back and forth furiously.
Blood gushed from his mouth. The tail of the large animal frothed
the water behind him as he shook the boy to cut him in half. For a
second, the water stopped, and the boy’s head and shoulders
bobbed and tipped, then slowly sank, eyes fixed with a terrified
expression. Another splash from a second shark, and the torso was
sucked beneath the dock.

The
other boy screamed and sobbed, jumping back and forth on the dock,
not knowing how to help. Then he looked toward Etty’s hiding
place, fearful of retribution. He quickly untied one of the two
boats, the only one with an outboard engine. He jumped in and
buzzed away without looking back.

After
convincing herself she was alone, she started out onto the dock.
The rotten boards creaked with every step. She walked as tenderly
as possible, with the image of gaping toothy mouths under each weak
board. Etty could still see a black swirling liquid where he fell
in. She pitied the boy, but didn’t afford herself time to
dwell on his horrible death.

She
bent to untie the line of the remaining row boat. As she leaned
over, one of the shiny coins Anna had given her plopped into the
water, and tumbled slowly into the depths. With each turn, it
flashed a dull circle of light. Without warning, a cascade of water
shot up from beneath her, sending her back onto the dock, almost
into the water on the opposite side. A shark had charged the coin.
When she looked up, the row boat now floated aimlessly away from the
dock, out of reach.

She
stared in shock at her misfortune. The dock had no oars to reach
with, or rope to throw out and coax the boat in. The space of dark
water widened between her and the only chance for escape. Beneath
the black liquid, she imagined a teaming tangle of killer sharks.
But the fortress island behind her offered even fewer options. Her
only choice was to swim.

She
spotted the pile of bait left by the boys. She picked the largest
chunk, and heaved it as far as possible in the opposite direction of
the boat. In seconds, a raging circle of white water surrounded it.
She bent to wash her bloody hand in the water, but on second
thought, decided to wipe it on the dry boards. She pulled the
folders out of her back and held them up above her head as she
slipped quietly into the water, not making a ripple.

She
couldn’t bear her feet dangling below her, so she maneuvered
to keep as level as possible. ‘Keep calm,’ she chanted.
She inched along, with minimum turbulence, only slightly faster
than the boat drifted. She cringed at each splash from the sharks
behind her, but didn’t dare look. Then there was silence, the
feeding complete. Now she almost preferred to hear them, at least
she knew where they were.

The
hull of the boat came closer, looming above her. She tried to clear
her mind, force away the violent fantasies. She knew she’d
have to kick her feet to pull herself up into the boat, and couldn’t
help thinking she’d be waving tender morsels in front of
snapping teeth. She reached up and tested its stability, not
wanting to flip the boat.

A
rough wall of hard skin pushed between her and the boat. A fin
surfaced, within reach. Without another thought, she exploded out of
the water into the boat.

She
lay face up in the curved bottom to catch her breath. But the
thought that they might be able to break through the old floorboards
made her jump to the seat.

Shivering
from cold and fear, she rowed madly away. She rowed straight out
instead of taking the faster route along the island’s shore,
to get as far away as possible. She pumped feverishly, fixing her
eyes back toward the dock, with no idea what lay in front. As the
island’s lights shrank, her panic faded, and finally she
turned toward the mainland’s beach.

She
knew the best strategy was to ditch the boat before the breaking
surf and swim in, leaving it to float away in the tide. But she
couldn’t find the courage to step into more than a few inches
of the shark infested water. With a final thrust, she charged over
the top of a swell and rode the foaming crest to the sand. She
jumped over the bow and dropped to her knees. She clutched the sand
while gaining composure.

She
walked to the boulevard to find a taxi. Although close to midnight,
it bustled with activity. A car full of young men stopped almost
immediately, and backed up with their heads hanging out the windows,
whistling and jeering. A taxi whipped around in a dangerous U-turn,
screeching to pull up behind the boys. The powerful looking cab
driver stepped out on the tar and waved a fist at the boys, who
promptly peeled away.


Boa
noite
.
Tudo bem, garota?

“Sorry,
I don’t speak Portuguese. Do you speak English?”


Sim
,
little.”

“Hotel?
Best hotel?”

“Hotel?
Sim! Boa Viagem!
” The taxi sped off. They passed
through the central part of Recife, and down
Avenida Boa Viagem
,
a major boulevard running adjacent to a spectacular beach. Every
block gleamed with activity - bright lights shining on bands of
frantic dancers - palatial hotels trying to out do each other with
elaborately decorated entrances and colorful flora - a steady stream
of tourists and lovers walking the board walk. The taxi pulled into
Recife Palace
, where a plaque showing five gold stars
prominently adorned the magnificent entree. A doorman dressed in a
fine black tuxedo opened the cab door. Etty emptied her pockets and
filled the driver’s rough hands with dripping wet bills and
coins. She counted out currency to the number the man held up in
fingers.

The
greeter asked her something she didn’t understand while
laughing. Etty assumed it had to do with her soaking clothes. She
smiled and shook her head. She did not want to check in, but simply
to find a quiet place to wait. She walked into the beautiful lobby,
and continued straight through to the lovely patio by the beach.
She found a quiet table in one corner, right up against a short
stone wall that separated it from the sand, where she could put her
legs up and lean back.

She
felt again the magic of balmy sea air, and drank a lung full in her
moment of triumph.

She
pulled out the pager pen from her damp pants. She hoped it still
worked as she removed the top and entered the code. One last time,
she thought. She’d give them the night, but tomorrow morning,
she’d contact authorities in the States by phone. She looked
around before performing her little ritual of holding it over her
head to send the message.

With
only a few coins left, she continued apologizing to the friendly
waiters who tried to get her to order something. One particularly
persistent server finally brought a newspaper, a fruit drink, and
some fried chicken tidbits. He waived in the air to communicate she
didn’t have to pay. He also delivered a stack of thick towels.
The food and drink tasted delightful.

- Chapter Twenty Five -

Bryce
and Warren tossed and turned in their seats, but still managed to
get a few hours of rest on the long flight. Ironically, they
touched down briefly at the International Terminal at Dallas/Fort
Worth airport. As they pulled back into the sky, they crammed their
heads into the small window.

“Hey!
There! That’s it! See the dome?” Warren shrieked.

“Sure
is. Sons of bitches.” Bryce wagged his finger toward the
small brightly lit square of the Global Growers complex. “You’re
going to pay for this.”

They
arrived in Recife at 12:30am. They cleaned up as best they could in
the tiny aircraft bathroom. They ditched their old clothes and
donned the new items they’d bought at the airport in Tuscon.
But they kept the hats.

Bryce
looked out the window as the plane circled for its final approach.
“Hey Warren, check out the military installation. There must
be fifty F-18 Hornet jets down there, oh, and over there, those are
the babies I flew, the AV8’s, the Harrier class McDonnell
Douglas jets.”

Warren
craned his neck to see. “Amazing how they take off vertically
like that.”

“Look
at them all. It’s a damn war zone around here.”

Once
in the terminal, Bryce went right to the nearest pay phone. Warren
tagged along and leaned up against the other side to listen in.
Twenty minutes later, Bryce had finally settled the billing, having
fought battles with telephone operators in both countries. He
dialed the number Brooke had given him in code.

“Bryce,
it’s about time! I’ve been at my mother’s house
for a day and night! I’ve been so worried!”

“Sorry
Brooke, it been kind of crazy.”

“Well,
you’re alive. This isn’t a safe line, so this better be
quick. I wouldn’t put it past Lange to tap even my mother’s
phone.”

“It’s
nice to hear your voice, Brooke. Any news?”

“Joseph
just called a few minutes ago from the computer center. Got another
emergency call, a different place.”

“Where?,”
Bryce blurted.

“On
the beach this time, an area they pronounce ‘Boa Vee Ajem’
The global positioning put her, if I read my
Fodors
right,
at a hotel called the
Recife Palace
. She’s either in
the hotel or in front of it on the beach
.

“Great!
That simplifies things. What about ....”

“You
can’t call anymore. Even Joseph doesn’t want to touch
this. You have no idea how hot it is around here. I’ll
probably bake already.”

“If
I get out of here alive, you’re getting a medal.”

“Shortest
career award?”

Bryce
smiled. “Signing off.”

He
hung up and clenched his fist with an ‘all right!’

“What!”
Warren asked as he leaned around the phone.

“Etty’s
out of Clorice Coffee! Let’s blow!” Bryce ran toward
the revolving doors, Warren in pursuit.



In
twenty minutes, their taxi pulled up to the
Recife Palace.
Like young kids running to the tree on Christmas morning, they
dashed into the lobby. They didn’t find her name on the
registration list, so they ran out onto the patio to peruse the
beach. There she was, in a corner, head fallen over on her chest
asleep in a chair. For a moment, they just watched her. Her head
rose and fell with each breath. Warren put his arm on Bryce’s
shoulder. “Looks like we made it, chief.”

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