Authors: John Strauchs
“Can this guy last that long?”
“No, but then he shouldn’t be alive now.”
“Kenny, I want a heavy foot. Get all the speed you can.”
With the refueling stop, it took them more than four hours to get to the clinic in
San José.
Jared was unconscious again.
They took him off as soon as they landed and
ran him on a stretcher into the clinic. The local officials were waiting.
It was clear that
everyone was nervous about these mysterious men who had no uniform insignias landing
in an aircraft with no markings.
But they received orders to cooperate and to ask no
questions. This wasn’t the first time. They suspected it was CIA but no one dared ask.
Doctors were waiting.
They administered at least 20 vials of Wyeth Crotalidae
Polyvalent Antivenom. They cleaned the gapping wound. The fang points were now the
size of silver dollars. The muscle tissue had already begun to break down. It didn’t look
like human flesh anymore.
The doctors said nothing but they secretly had already given up any hope that this
wretched man would live. Jared spent the night in the clinic in an intensive care unit. The
nurses hovered over him all night long.
Jared was delirious, but he didn’t die.
They
talked among themselves that he actually looked like he was improving. By morning the
bite wounds had shrunk to the size of quarters and by noon to dimes. The skin color was
returning to normal.
His fever was gone.
They couldn’t tell without more tests, but his
hemorrhaging may have stopped. His heart rate was climbing and his blood pressure was
normal. It was a miracle.
The team leader of the rescue mission walked into Jared’s room the next evening.
Jared was sitting up in bed, talking with one of the doctors.
“Holly Cow Man. I thought you were a goner, Sir.”
Jared glanced at his uniform. There was no name tape over the breast pocket.
“I have a lot of questions, but I guess they can wait for now.”
“Later is better, Sir,” said the team leader.
“Call me Red Leader. No names,
OK?”
“No problem,” said Jared.
“How long are they keeping you here?
We have to leave in the morning, but
someone else will come to pick you up whenever you’re released.”
“I’m leaving in the morning. Can you take me?” asked Jared.
“Huh? Really? Sure! No problem. Where to?”
“Can you take me back to San Blas?” asked Jared.
“You got it, Sir. We have a military transport waiting for you in Panama City, but
take whatever time you need in San Blas. By the way, Sir, I have a message from the
President.”
“Really? Let’s hear it,” said Jared.
“I don’t know exactly what it means but that message is the he is pleased that he
could be of help.
He said there are no strings attached but the nation would be very appreciative if you gave him the gadget you invented. If the answer is no, there are no hard
feelings. That’s what the message was.”
Jared thought for a few minutes.
“Red Leader, please tell the President that I’ll think about it, but no deal if they
classify it.”
Red Leader look perplexed.
“Yes Sir, we will tell him exactly what you said.”
In the morning Jared was taken to the helicopter in a wheel chair, but he climbed
out of the chair as soon as they reached the helipad. The doctors were astounded. It was a
shame that they couldn’t tell anyone about it.
She hadn’t heard from Jared in two days. Maybe it was three days. She wasn’t
sure. She was worried but, oddly, for the first time in a long while she felt safe and happy. Jared was right. The Kuna were a wonderful people. Zobeida had given her a special
mola to wear. It had taken her months to make it. It was made much better than the molas
she sewed to sell to the tourists. Those only required a few days of work.
What made it a special mola? She didn’t know, but it seemed to make a difference
as to how she was treated by other women.
It was a blouse that had colorful appliqués
sewn on the fabric in many layers. There were odd layered shapes and patterns on a
bright red background. The patterns were in yellow, blue and green. Some of the shapes
looked like strange fish.
One might have been a sea bird. Another patch showed a man
in a boat. He was fishing.
Yellow and blue lines surrounded each of the shapes.
Jenny
thought it was beautiful.
She couldn’t wait for Krissy to see it.
Then she remembered.
Krissy is pregnant.
Jenny focused on the small flotilla of fishing boats around her. She
didn’t want to think about Krissy. “
At least, not right now
.”
She also couldn’t bear to think about what might really be happening to Jared.
She must not think like that.
He will be back.
Jenny smiled and nodded at the other
women. Tourists were coming. Jenny got a sense that they wanted her to get into one of
the boats so the tourists wouldn’t see her. Her blond hair continued to be a problem. The
women didn’t wear the muswe, the scarf, to cover all of their hair. The front of their
heads and hair always showed. If Jenny wore it differently, she would stand out.
Jenny was amazed how much of her high school Spanish was coming back to her.
It was truly amazing. Some of the women were roasting iguana on soaked wooden skewers over small charcoal braziers. It was mostly for the tourists. The Kuna didn’t care that
much for it. The island was lousy with iguana. Jenny tried it. It was tasty.
She climbed into one of the cayucos. A young boy—he couldn’t have been older
than 10—raised a small sail.
The wind caught them and they quickly slipped away.
A
group of boats followed them into a cove.
It was an impressive sight.
Jenny noted that
the woman were very attractive and clearly took great pains at how they looked. Sexual
attraction was a universal value, wasn’t it?
Most of the women wore a blue cotton skirt. It was also covered with patterns.
Their arms and legs were covered with many beaded bracelets. Language was surprisingly no barrier. She was able to be understood and to understand what was expected of her.
Jenny had one year of Spanish in high school. They all spoke Spanish as well as their
own tongue. The younger ones seemed to be talking mostly in Spanish. As Idel promised,
Jose’s oldest boy, Thomas, spoke English.
She saved up her essential conversations for
when he was around.
Jenny appreciated the friendliness and hospitality of the Kuna. It was more than
she could have imagined. After all, she was a complete stranger. Jose and Zobeida were
especially kind and understanding.
They did everything they could for Jenny and constantly tried to anticipate what she wanted.
It was late afternoon.
The strong afternoon sun glinted in the gentle waves that
came in a slow procession against the side of her boat. The water was radiantly clear as
the white sandy bottom reflected the sun back to the surface. She could see the boys and
girls diving for fish. It was as if they were flying.
She had learned that the Kuna word
for snapper was
nalu
. It was a start.
The boats were small hand-carved wooden canoes. Many, but not all, had a sail,
but all of the sails were down now. Nine of the boats were bunched together in a small
lagoon ringed with powder soft white sand and heavily leaning palm trees. The trade
wind blew softly, but the relentless pressure of the wind made the trees bend to its will.
Some of the children were bringing up crabs and lobsters.
Others were spear fishing.
Spear fishing was strictly managed in the San Blas Archipelago. Generally, only the Kuna were allowed to spear fish.
They were good managers of their environment and resources.
Each of the small boats had a woman waiting to receive the catch. Most appeared
to be grandmothers.
Everything was neatly processed by the women as soon as it came
on board. Jenny tried hard to keep up. She was a marine biologist and should be an expert on fish but the Kuna women made her look clumsy and inept.
Through Jose’s son
she learned that the Kuna were a matriarchic society.
The women took care of all the
money and managed the various family businesses.
One of the women cried out.
Jenny looked toward where she was pointing.
A
military-looking patrol boat suddenly appeared as it rounded a small peninsula protecting
the cove. A Kuna woman close to Jenny’s boat paddled her boat closer. She was yelling
at the boys.
Several of them swam to Jenny’s boat and capsized it.
Each of the boats
without a sail was turned over. Some of the boys and one of the girls climbed on top of
the overturned boats and then jumped off.
They climbed back on and jumped off again.
It was to appear like a game. At first, Jenny couldn’t understand what was happening.
The boys were now throwing some of the fish that had spilled out at each other.
They
were yelling and screaming. The patrol boat would simply think that the children were
rough housing. It was very clever. These were very clever people.
One of the younger women swam over to Jenny who was clinging to the side of
her overturned boat.
Jenny’s eyes were wide with confusion.
The young Kuna woman
seemed to understand.
She stroked Jenny’s shoulders to show that there was nothing to
be concerned about. Jenny glanced around her cayuco and glimpsed that the patrol boat
was closing fast. The Kuna woman pulled Jenny away, back behind the overturned canoe.
She pinched her nostrils shut, gesturing for Jenny to do the same.
She made an overt
movement of holding her breath and then submerged beneath the boat, pulling Jenny
along with her. She grabbed Jenny by the buttocks and pushed her up until she was horizontal in the water, floating underneath the overturned boat. It startled her.
Now Jenny understood.
They were hiding her from the patrol boat.
They could
see her legs if she hung down in the water.
She had to float in the water.
Jenny leaned
back so only her nose and mouth were out of the water and lifted her legs again so they
were entirely within the boat. There was enough air trapped under the boat that breathing
wasn’t a problem, at least not for a while. The sun was so bright and the water reflected
so much light that it wasn’t at all dark.
She could see well.
She could even hear the
children yelling.
Then she heard the roaring motor of the approaching patrol boat.
The
young Kuna woman left Jenny and swam out.
Jenny grabbed her by the arm and pulled
her back.
Jenny pointed to her crotch.
She used one hand to show a waving motion, as if
something was flowing out.
The Kuna woman didn’t seem to understand at first, but
suddenly, the significance of what Jenny was trying to communicate became clear. Jenny
was menstruating. The woman showed alarm. She gestured to Jenny to stay there but it
was evident that she was reacting to what Jenny was signing.
The menstrual blood was
going to attract sharks.
There was no reef in the lagoon.
No reef meant fewer fish and that meant that
sharks would be infrequent, unless something attracted them.
Sharks could sense the
blood from miles away.
Perhaps they had enough time until the sharks arrived. The
young Kuna woman yelled at the children and they immediately began to climb on
upright boats and even on top of the overturned ones.
Jenny held her breath and lowered deeper into the water beneath the boat.
She
rolled slightly and looked up. The light was diffracted, and without goggles, it was very
difficult to make out images but it looked like men on the patrol boat were talking to the
Kuna. It looked like some were in uniform and others were not. There were ten or more
men on the boat. Jared had already explained to Jenny how much the Kuna disliked outsiders, especially outside officials and military. This was probably a rare occurrence.
She couldn’t see, so she floated to the far side of her overturned boat. She wanted
to see what the women and children were doing.
A few glanced toward her with disapproving eyes.
She was about to swim back under the boat when she saw it.
It was a
shark.
It darted up and brushed her legs.
She instantly felt the burn as the salt water
worked on the raw skin.
Jenny glanced down between her legs.
She couldn’t see any
blood but she knew that her Tampax was probably gorged with blood. If she got rid of it,
it might float to the surface and attract attention. She really didn’t know if it would float
or not, but it was too risky.
She slid under the boat again and resumed a floating position but turned her head
again and again on both sides, looking deep into the water. Another shark swam beneath
her. Maybe it was the same shark. She panicked. She pulled her blouse over her head so
that her blond hair wouldn’t show. The shore was fifty meters away. She had to go for it
before she was attacked. It could only be seconds now before she was hit.
Jenny swam out to the far side of the boat again and began to swim for land. Now
there were at least two sharks circling her.
She sensed there were probably more.
She
lost her head and began to sprint toward land.
She was now in sight of the patrol boat.
For the moment they weren’t looking her way but they did see the sharks. There was
some kind of commotion on the patrol boat.
The men on the large boat threw lines into
the water and pulled some of the boys onto the boat.
Another shark raced by her.
This time it grazed her midriff.
It wasn’t a bite yet
but it hurt.
She was sure she lost skin. She was out of her mind with fear. Hiding from
the patrol boat was no longer a priority.
A boy jumped from one of the sail boats and dove beneath Jenny. He had a spear
gun.
As one of the sharks made another pass the boy shot a spear.
It was a glancing
blow and veered off the shark. Without goggles Jenny couldn’t see clearly. The boy was
defending her.
The shark darted away and then turned back. In an instant it was on the
boy.
A crimson cloud blossomed in the water around the young boy. Jenny was horrified.
The shark had taken the boys right leg beneath the knee.
It was horrible. He
couldn’t have been more than 9 or 10 years of age. It wasn’t a very big shark, but it was
big enough to have taken the leg.