Delta Force Page 18

  “Oh...”

  Holding on to Megan for fear of becoming that ball of fire and shooting out the top of the hut, Delta squeezed her eyes closed and felt the hot tears run down her face. Every muscle in her body felt the passion, the unabashed love Megan had unselfishly given to her. After several minutes, when she could catch her breath once again, Delta felt her body return to the floor of the hut.

  There were, at once, no words and too many words to express what she felt. For the first time in a long time, Delta knew what it was to be full—to be in harmony with herself. As Megan gently touched Delta’s cheek with the tips of her fingers, Delta let the tears come.

  “Shh, my love,” Megan whispered softly, wiping the tears away.

  Delta pulled Megan to her and clung to her tightly. “I have never been so afraid in my life. I thought...I didn’t know what to think. I guess...I thought...we’d run out of time.”

  Megan wiped a lingering tear from Delta’s eyelash. “I had that thought once or twice myself, but I refused to listen to it. There’s too much for us to experience in this life together. As long as my heart beats, my love, it belongs with you. I had a dream that kept me going.”

  Delta wiped her eyes and sat up, still holding Megan. “A dream?”

  Megan nodded. “Of the life I want to live with you back home. I came here looking for something that was standing beside me the entire time. I wasn’t about to let some filthy drug dealers take that dream away from me.”

  Delta kissed her softly. “I’ve had that same dream.”

  Smiling, Megan shook her head. “I’ve always known you were a remarkable woman, Delta Stevens, but how on earth did you make it through the rainforest? You don’t even like going to the park on Sundays.”

  “I would have gone to Hell if you needed me to. I didn’t think about the jungle. I just kept my sights on finding you.”

  “I knew if anyone could do it, you and Connie were the ones. Seeing Sal was also a nice surprise.”

  Delta nodded. “She arrived right after we did. We needed someone with jungle-warfare experience, and Josh was the ticket.”

  “And where is Josh?”

  Delta replayed the scenario when Manny got shot and Josh carried him out of the jungle on a sling-type stretcher.

  “I sure hope Josh manages to get that poor man some help,” Megan said, kissing Delta’s bruised cheek. “Enough people have died over drug money.” She paused, then continued, “If we don’t get the others out of Zahn’s camp, they’ll be killed.”

  Delta held both her hands up. “No way. We’re getting the hell out of here and going home.”

  Incredulous, Megan said, “You can’t mean that.”

  “I most certainly do. My days of saving the world are over. We came to get you, and now we’re going home. We don’t owe anybody anything.”

  Megan was clearly taken aback. “This isn’t like you at all.”

  “It is now, honey. For three years, I’ve put our life together on the back burner for everybody and everything else. It took almost losing you for me to figure out that that was a really bad plan. I’m through being everybody’s hero. I’m through jumping through hoops for people who don’t even know me. Enough is enough.”

  “But good people are going to get killed.”

  Delta shrugged. “Good people die all the time. I learned that hard lesson the night Miles was killed.”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to turn your back on people who need your help.” Megan tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned closer to Delta. “This isn’t like you,” she repeated.

  “I’m sorry, Meg, but for once in my life, I’m going to take care of me and mine, above everything else.”

  Megan took Delta’s hands and held them to her chest. “My sweet, sweet Storm. I’ve come to understand an awful lot during these months away from you, and one thing I’ve finally figured out is that being a heroine is your place in life. It’s what you’re meant to be. Not everyone in the world is as gifted as you are. Saving lives is your destiny.”

  “Not anymore it isn’t. My destiny is with you.”

  Megan’s grin broadened. “Lord knows I’ve whined enough about your commitment to your job and the people you’ve sworn to protect, but those days are over. I’ve grown up, Del, and I recognize how very lucky I am to be in love with one of life’s true warriors.”

  Delta looked hard and deep into Megan’s eyes. Yes, she had certainly grown up, that much was clear. But to go back—to take that chance—there wasn’t anything in the world that could make Delta put them at risk again. There wasn’t anything worth losing Megan for again. “I won’t risk your life by going back to that camp, Megan. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.”

  Megan smiled gently and touched Delta’s cheek. “That choice isn’t yours to make, sweetie.”

  Delta cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

  Megan’s eyes narrowed as she held Delta’s gaze. “It means I’m going back with or without you.”

  “Shaman?” Delta asked, as she and Megan stepped from the hut. It was dark now, and a fire blazed in the center of the clearing. “Wants me?”

  Sal nodded. “Uh-huh. The shaman wants to meet you.”

  Delta smiled over at Connie. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Does this have anything to do with voodoo?” Sal asked, quickly adding, “And I ask sincerely.”

  “Of course not,” Connie answered. “Shamans are a tribe’s spiritual leader and physical healer. They’re responsible for the spiritual safety and health of the tribe. In the past, shamans have been the ones who both started and ended tribal wars. They are the most powerful men in the tribe because of their wisdom and knowledge. Many shamans mix a variety of plants to heal certain illnesses. Often, there’s a ritual or ceremony involved, especially if the sickness has been caused by a spirit or outside source, but that’s not voodoo.”

  “Sounds like voodoo to me,” Sal said, keeping a watchful eye on the warrior standing nearby.

  “Sal, don’t make me have to kill you,” Connie replied, putting her arm across the shorter woman’s shoulders. “Tamar is an apprentice to the shaman. He is trying to—here he comes now. He can answer any of your...” Connie hesitated and stared at Sal, “...intelligent questions.”

  Tamar strode up to them. He no longer wore jeans, but donned the simple breechcloth worn by the other men. “Shaman will see you now.”

  As the four women followed Tamar through the tiny village, Connie shook her head. It reminded her of back home, in Mexico, when it was too hot to be indoors, and everyone sat on their porch. Some people sat in hammocks talking or singing. One much older man rocked back and forth smoking something that resembled a huge joint. Children sat with their mothers or sisters and laughed at something the women were saying. It was so much like a little neighborhood ringed around the fire. “I knew tribes like the Bribri existed, but I had no idea how developed they were.”

  “Don’t you mean primitive?” Sal asked, looking at a man sound asleep in a hammock.

  Tamar suddenly came to a dead stop. “Primitive compared to what? Your nine-to-five overworked, underpaid, destructive culture? Primitive compared to drunk drivers, teenage suicides, violent crime rates and unwanted children? I’ve been in your culture, and believe me, it is your people who act primitive and barbaric.”

  Sal started to respond, but Connie cut her off. “I think she means that your people appear so happy and healthy and she can’t understand how anyone could be happy without electricity, cable television or microwave ovens.”

  Tamar continued walking. They were moving out of the village now and into the fringes of the jungle. “Just as I cannot understand how anyone can be happy or healthy surrounded by cement, air pollution, and paying for what should be free.”

  “Tamar has a point, Sal,” Delta added. “It’s all a matter of perspective.”

  Tamar explained why they were going into the forest. “Shaman believes the spirits are more comfortable com
ing to him when they are in their natural environment. Too many people around drives the spirits away.”

  “Spirits?” Sal quipped. “I’m telling you guys, this sounds a lot like voodoo to me.”

  Connie, Tamar and Megan all shook their heads. “No more primitive than giving ten percent of your income away to the church, and believing that wine and bread are the blood and body of Christ,” Connie answered.

  Tamar came to a sudden stop again. “It is those Christian missionaries who come here with their religion and their medicines who are aiding in the extinction of tribes like mine. I would rather believe in Shaman’s spirits than in a religion which endangers our ancient ways.”

  “But everything evolves, Tamar,” Delta stated.

  “That does not mean that change is good. Once our shaman dies, all his knowledge will die with him unless he passes it on. The younger boys are not interested in the old ways. They know there are pills you can take instead of Shaman’s medicine, and they would rather do that than learn. They do not understand that Western civilization means the end of us. That is why I returned to the village to study as much as I can. Everything our tribe knows, it knows through oral tradition. Once that tradition dies, it will be as if we never existed.” Tamar rubbed his brow in frustration.

  “Well, what does he want with us?” Sal asked, watching an iguana slowly crawl down a branch.

  “Itka says Shaman felt an energy when you arrived.”

  “Energy?” Delta asked, averting her eyes from two bare-breasted women carrying palm fronds from outside the village. For a split second, she wondered if tribal people had lesbians.

  Tamar slowed as they rounded a large, sweet cedar tree. There, in a smaller clearing away from the opening to the village, was a single hut with a fire burning just outside. An incredibly old-looking, shriveled man squatted by the fire, poking a stick at the burning embers. He appeared trancelike, and only looked up when they all rounded the tree and entered the clearing. Tamar waited for the shaman to greet him first. In a language that sounded much like Hawaiian, Shaman rose and greeted Tamar, whose singular response was to point to the group of women standing behind him. The shaman then walked over and stood in front of Megan. His small brown eyes looked hard into her face as he held his hands out in front, palms facing outward. Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he placed his face inches from Megan’s and peered even harder, as if looking for something. After that, he stood in front of Connie and did the same thing. Only when he opened his eyes, he smiled at Connie and nodded once. The expression on his face was different somehow, as if they had met before. Connie smiled knowingly and nodded back.

  When he came to Delta, the ritual suddenly changed. When he put his palms out, he started to close his eyes, but quickly opened them, as if hearing a sound. Then, for a full minute, he did nothing else but stare into her face. When he was through staring, he walked slowly around her until he returned to stand in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he stood, eyes locked on hers. At last he nodded. Releasing her hands, the shaman stepped back and said a few words to no one in particular. Then he finally looked over at Tamar and spoke to him in their clicking language.

  “Shaman requests that I send for Itka,” Tamar translated, before motioning for all but Delta to sit. “The energy he felt when you arrived is coming from Delta.”

  As they waited, Delta stared at the shaman’s face, which was home to the many deep wrinkles etched across it. With shoulder-length graying hair that smelled of vanilla, and a short, skinny body, the man staring at her did not appear to be powerful. He reminded Delta of her favorite crazy homeless guy who lived behind the dumpster off Hemingway Street back home. His fingernails were dirty, he was missing some front teeth, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Delta shuddered to think he was the tribal source of wisdom.

  Five minutes later, Tamar returned with Itka in tow. When the two older men met, they exchanged greetings and spoke quietly to each other. Then Itka approached Delta, closed his eyes, and nodded. When he opened them, he nodded again before speaking to Shaman. Then Shaman entered his hut, while Itka and Tamar conversed in that beautiful flowing language.

  “They seem awfully interested in you, Del,” Sal whispered.

  “Shaman says he recognizes your energy now,” Tamar translated. Itka stood motionless, staring hard at Delta.

  “And?” Delta said, raising her left eyebrow.

  “And that energy is the spirit of a warrior.”

  “Hell,” Sal interrupted, “I could have told you that.”

  Tamar ignored Sal. “Shaman and Itka believe it would be a great honor to join your spirit with the spirits of our tribe.”

  Delta looked over to Connie and raised her left eyebrow.

  “What does she need to do?” Connie asked.

  “She must be prepared for the ceremony,” Tamar said.

  Delta glanced helplessly at Connie, who nodded. “Why not? We’re here for the night, and this is an incredible opportunity for you, Storm.”

  “I say go for it,” Sal cheered, whipping her hat off and swinging it over her head.

  Turning to Tamar, Delta nodded and said quietly, “Tell him I would be honored.”

  “This tribal ritual stuff is too much voodoo for me,” Sal moaned, watching three of the Bri women wash Delta, who turned and smiled at Sal. A single torch flickered outside the hut’s opening, sending in a small shaft of light.

  Megan reached over and playfully slapped the peak of Sal’s cap, momentarily forcing it down over the other woman’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Sal thought for a moment before answering. “How come the shaman called Delta’s spirit an ‘it’? Aren’t warriors in these places always men?”

  All three heads turned to Connie, who shook her head. “For many tribal people, including our own Native Americans, positions of spiritual leadership are often accorded to people with two spirits.”

  “You mean bisexuals?” Sal asked.

  “No. Sexuality has nothing to do with it,” Connie replied. “This ceremony has nothing to do with Delta’s gender. It’s about the warrior spirit the shaman saw in her. He must have seen two spirits in Delta or he wouldn’t think she, as a woman, is capable of being a warrior. Having two spirits could account for the energy he said he felt when we arrived.”

  “So, you’re saying he saw a male and a female spirit in Delta,” Sal said.

  Connie nodded. “That’s my best guess. Two-spirits are valued in many tribes because they’re are considered to be whole people—people who know more and have experienced more than one path. Shaman knows Delta’s spirit will strengthen the tribe as a whole, and that’s basically what his job is all about. The stronger the collective tribal spirit, the less other spirits can threaten them.”

  “And you believe all this hooey?” Sal asked.

  “I do. I’ve seen Delta get out of too many tight spots not to believe there isn’t something remarkable about the path she is on.”

  “On that, we can agree, but how much of it is spiritual, and how much of it is just dumb luck?” Sal asked.

  “I don’t know the answer to that question,” Connie said, brushing a yellow-and-green insect off her arm. “Do you?”

  Sal opened her mouth to respond, but shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, there you have it. If you don’t have proof that a thing does not exist, then it’s quite possible that it does exist.”

  Sal shook her head as she straightened her cap. “Are you sure the sun hasn’t baked your brains?”

  Turning from Sal, the three other women could only smile to each other.

  When the women finished drying Delta’s lean, muscular body, they ground up something in a small bowl and sprinkled it on her back, shoulders and arms. Then they poured water into a separate bowl and mixed in something that resembled ashes. One of the women rubbed her thumb into the mixture and smeared a line across Delta’s forehead and down the sides of her cheeks. A second woman app
roached with a bowl containing a bluish liquid, and this she dotted across Delta’s collar bone and down the middle of her stomach. The dots were nearly exact in both spacing and size. The women still did not speak as the third dropped a necklace of flowers, leaves and berries over Delta’s head to settle around her neck. Their eerie silence continued as they draped a cloth over one shoulder, covering only one of her breasts.

  With their task completed, the women motioned for Connie, Sal and Megan to leave with them. The six women filed out of the hut, leaving Delta standing there alone. I wonder what Mom would have said about all this. Could she appreciate the beauty of this ceremony, being a Christian? What did the Bible say about that?

  Suddenly, Itka appeared at the hut opening and motioned for Delta to follow. When she stepped from the hut, she froze. Before her stood more than thirty men circled around a blazing fire. The men bore the same markings on their chests as Delta, and they stood tall and erect, staring at Itka and her. Kneeling next to the fire was the shaman, who sprinkled something into a bowl and swirled it around. While all eyes were on Delta, Shaman was absorbed in the bowl’s contents. Delta looked for her compatriots, but did not see them. Was this a male-only ritual? Would her best friends miss the chance of seeing a tribe induct a spirit into their world? Gazing into the darkness of the surrounding forest, Delta somehow knew they wouldn’t.

  Itka motioned for Delta to join the circle. As she did, Shaman rose slowly and extended the bowl toward her with both hands. Taking the bowl the same way it was handed to her, Delta stared down at the dark liquid before looking back at Shaman, wondering why Tamar wasn’t translating all of this for her. Not knowing what to do, Delta did nothing.

  Shaman walked around her now, chanting words she so wished she could understand. After circling her once, he held both hands over the bowl, chanted a few more lines and then motioned for Delta to drink it. As she brought the bowl to her lips, Delta thought she smelled jasmine, roses, garlic and other familiar scents. She wondered if those plants grew in the rainforest. She knew so little of this world. How had she gotten all the way through college without learning anything about nature?