Heart of the Amazon

Hot, humid--no, make that wet--air clung to her like a second skin. Kate Collier dabbed a tissue along her brow, over her cheeks, then her upper lip. The second she stuffed the tissue back into her black purse, perspiration popped out on her face again, putting a new layer of dampness on top of the old. Where is the Blue Dolphin? She scanned the street--if she could call the pothole-riddled single lane of packed dirt a street. She was beginning to think she needed a guide to find the guide the hotel had given her directions to over a half an hour ago. It wasn't as though this place was a major city. Probably no more than two thousand lived here, if that. But she had wandered the streets of Mandras, Brazil, and was going to have to admit she was lost. Like her brother. That thought spurred her on. She needed help. Turning the corner, going farther away from the more civilized parts of Mandras--and that was a generous usage of the wordcivilized--she saw the sign at an angle, barely held up by a rusted chain at one end.Blue Dolphin Bar.Bar? The hotel hadn't said anything about her going into a bar. Oh, my! This would never do! She stood outside the seedy-looking building that had patches of what had once been yellow paint still clinging to parts of the wooden structure. It housed a bar on its lower floor, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to know what was in the top story. She gnawed on her bottom lip while she tried to decide what to do. She had never been in a bar in her whole thirty-eight years. Never. Not once. If she went inside, she could imagine the horror on the faces of the people back home at the church where she was the secretary if they knew. She could imagine the horror on her own face! She fortified herself with a deep breath and nearly choked on the scent of rotting fish and decaying plants with just a hint of stale...beer? Releasing the breath, she hiked the strap of her purse up on her shoulder and hugged it close to her. From inside, the sounds of loud voices and laughter drifted out to her. The man called Slader, according to not just the manager at the hotel, but anyone else she had contacted, was the only one who would take her to where she needed to go. She had no choice. Lord, please protect and guide me. Tell me what I should do. I have to find my brother. I know he isn't dead. Please help me to get through the next few minutes--alive! Still undecided, Kate scanned the area and realized for the first time that there were not many people out and about, which made her situation even more precarious. Being in the middle of the afternoon, there was little traffic on the street and certainly not anything that looked even remotely like a taxi to take her back to her hotel. And worse, not far from this street she could see the river and jungle, a wall of various shades of green with a ribbon of brown running through it. A group of men, all scruffy looking, as though they had just been let out of prison, suddenly exited a tin-roofed building across the street and headed toward her en masse. Her heart began to pound so fast that the images before her tilted and spun. Clutching the post next to her, she squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds, hoping she was seeing things that weren't there. Someone jostled her, sending her into the main stream of men. Their rancid odor, a mixture of sweat, unwashed bodies and something unidentifiable, engulfed her. Her eyes snapped open. Someone else bumped into her from behind. Before she realized what was happening, the eight men swept her along with them into the bar, their cackles and snickering remarks causing her ears to burn. Thankfully she had no idea what they were saying, since she didn't speak Portuguese, or more than her ears would be burning. Which brought her to another problem. What if no one spoke English? How would she find Mr. Slader, especially if he wasn't here? "ExcDaley, Margaret is the author of 'Heart of the Amazon ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373874132 and ISBN 0373874138.