Beneath a Southern Sky Read Online Free PDF Page B

widows in mourning.
    As they silently sponged the cool water over her neck and limbs, she felt removed from her body, as though she watched herself from someplace above. They combed Daria’s long, heavy, blond hair and fastened it, as she always wore it, into a braid that hung down her back. When they were finished with their ministrations, mother and daughter arranged the mosquito netting around her and then sat beside her, watching her closely. Several times Daria attempted to speak, but she could not make herself remember the Timoné words for what she wanted to ask. Finally she slept.
    The sounds of the afternoon rains awoke her, and the hut was dark from the overcast sky, but she could see the silhouettes of Paita and Casmé through the gauzy film of the mosquito net. She reached underneath the netting for Paita’s hand, and suddenly the words were there.
    “ Que aconté? What happened?” she asked.
    She strained to hear the words as Paita began to answer. It was so important that she understand.
    “Dr. Nate—the Medicine Doctor—put all those who were sick together in one hut outside the far village,” Paita told her, speaking slowly in her own tongue. She used her expressive hands to illustrate her words, repeating the important phrases again for Daria’s sake, waiting to see that she understood before continuing. “The medicine he brought was not enough for the many people, so they continued to die. The chief’s young son died, and the chief grew angry with Dr. Nate. The chief feared the sickness would destroy all the village, so he sent men to the sick hut to set a fire and destroy the evil spirits that lived in the people. Nathan was inside the hut. Quimico and Tados were in the village, but they saw the fire. They knew Dr. Nate was inside. They ran to save him, but the flames were too high. They called to Dr. Nate, but they could hear only the screams of the burning people. No one lived. All burned. All. They took their boat and ran away. They ran to the north. Away from Timoné. They hid in the forest for many days until it was safe for them to come back.”
    Paita finished the story and once more pushed back the net and wiped a cool damp cloth over Daria’s forehead. “You sleep now,” she said. “I will be here when you wake, and I will tell you the story once more.”
    It seemed to Daria that she slept for a week. When she opened her eyes again, the sun was climbing in the eastern sky and Casmé was gone. But true to her word, Paita was there, and she recounted the story again. This time Daria could not succumb to the drug of sleep to deaden the pain of the truth.
    She sat up on the mat and took the cup Paita offered. She sipped carefully and stood on wobbly legs, fighting the nausea that swept over her. Walking stiffly to the corner, she sat down at the table and tried to coax the radio to life. Miraculously her call was answered within minutes, and she sobbed the news to Bob Warrington.
    “You get to San José del Guaviare, Daria.” Bob’s voice filled the room. “Bring everything you can with you. Tell Anazu you must leave tomorrow.”
    “He’d already agreed, Bob, before… His nephews will take me. I trust them.”
    “Good. Someone will be waiting for you there. Daria…I am so sorry.”
    Numb, she copied down his instructions, signed off, and went to the doorway of the hut. She looked across the stream and saw that life was back to normal for the villagers. Children laughed and splashed at the water’s edge, and the women worked outside their huts, talking quietly together.
    Stepping outside, Daria sat down on the stoop and waited in silence while Paita fixed her something to eat.
    She spotted Tados coming down the forest path with a basket of fresh fish, and the truth washed over her as though for the first time.
    My husband is dead .
    No! It can’t be true! How was it possible that Nathan could have been dead so many days without her sensing it in her spirit? Without God letting