I stumble up the incline and tell Jeb that the plane scheduled for fly over photographs is due any time now. I hand him his thermos of tea and sandwich and also translate a request from one of the crew, Carlitos, to take the afternoon off so he can see his dentist. It´s October and we have a dozen more samples to send to Acme Labs in Mendoza. I had almost laughed the first time I heard their name mentioned but they do indeed exist and it´s convenient to have a lab an hour´s flight away - assumng you have the cash to lease a private plane. Jeb wants to see what some of the neighbouring properties look like from the air. We´ve been fielding calls from supposed landowners since word got out that we´ve leased Diego´s property. With the amount of cash Jan has raised we´ve got to be careful about spreading ourselves too thin, but we don´t want to lose out on some potential opportunities.
I hear a buzzing and I finger my cellphone to see if it´s Isadora. She´s due October 18 and I´m really starting to get nervous. Diego has her installed in the farmhouse - he proposed the idea and it seemed that Isa agreed so I consented. Did I have any choice? They grow parsely and a few other herbs as well as the ubiquitous soyabeans and raise a few cattle as well. I moved in with her and Diego after spending a few lonely days at the hotel. So now Diego drives me directly to the property each morning and then picks me up at the hotel when Jeb and I return from work. I stumble over rocks and weeds and do my best to help Jeb as well as answering Jans many calls while Diego and Isa live in rural comfort at the farm. Most of the staff assumed Diego was the father until Isa corrected them. I still get wry looks every time I come home from work, tired and sweaty and needing a shower in a bad way. The provinces are a long way from Buenos Aires in every sense of the word. Especially northern Cordoba.
That buzzing ... it´s not my phone. Oh. Somewhere over to the east. Yes. The sound increases and a small Cesna appears in the sky. Jeb stares up at the plane for a short while and then comes over and sits in the shade of a lone Ceibo. Baldemo Cuiti, Dra Mazz´s assistant, is up there with the photographer. Jeb seems to trust him to supervise the photographer who´s worked for other exploration companies as well. We need to get these samples to Mendoza so Jeb has stayed here on the ground. I slump down beside him and we both chew our sandwiches. The plane disappears for a brief moment then reappears heading back the other way.
Cagnazzo call this morning?
Uh yes Jeb, he did.
So the permits are good?
The fine won´t be too bad ... yes they´re in place.
The sun is hot but the wind is a little fresher today, more in season although any coolness will soon be gone - so they tell me. Cagnazzo did indeed cash my cheque, and Diego´s as well, and yes he did take 10% off the top. I thought it best not to argue. A judge Nabu ( or was it Nabot? ) had sheparded the process and Cagnazzo had let it be known that she was related to the Saadi clan. Best not to probe further in other words. We sit and watch the plane recovering our energy for what will be a long afternoon carefully loading the samples for the trip to Mendoza. I wonder to myself whether the Saadi´s influence spills over from Catamarca into northern Cordoba or whether Cagnazzo was merely justifying his commision. Doesn´t matter, let the thought go. Jeb stands and heads up the incline and I follow him towards the plywood table and it´s metal tubes.
It is a long afternoon but we make it back to the hotel and I climb into Diego´s waiting truck. We drive out to the hacienda and I notice that the wind is picking up. Over to the west above the foothills the cloud cover is building. We hit a rough patch of gravel on the property´s road and the Ford´s windows rattle suddenly just as a dust devil swirls past us. I feel my skin prickle and the nape of my neck feels like someone is tugging at it. Oh my god. Oh my god. Please not now. Diego parks outside the kitchen door but I remain seated. He looks back and says,
Che, andas bien??
I can´t nod but I look up at him and grimace in what I hope will be taken as a tired attempt at a smile. He stares at me for a moment and then turns and heads into the house, his tall rangy body swaying from side to side. He dresses like a beach hippie but walks like he has spurs on.
I´m sweating heavily but I try to convince myself that it´s the prestorm heaviness. The wind snaps at the truck´s windows and I want to howl like a wounded wolf. More swirls of dust. More bending of branches. The first heavy drops of rain. I can´t move from my seat. I look up and see Isadora in the doorway staring at me, her belly swollen and her face worried. I fix my eyes on her but she stumbles in fright. Diego appears behind her and eases past her into the rain but Isa pulls him back. He turns, surprised and angry but she tells him something I can´t hear with the rain clattering against the roof of the truck and against the corrugated metal roof the shed. He turns hostile and tall in the mud splattered courtyard but doesn´t approach the truck. Isa has disappeared back inside ... where is she?
I still can´t move. A huge flash of lightning strikes somewhere close by. Diego doesn´t flinch. Nor do I. Strange, I´m usually a little jumpy in a thunderstorm. I feel ridiculous sitting here but it´s as if the storm´s power is coursing through me. My neck feels sore. My skin is covered in goosebumps. Deep breaths. I can´t fight much longer. More sweat from every pore. The cabin feels like a steam bath. I´m outside in the rain. Did I use my foot to kick open the door? Now I´m in Diego´s face. How did I move so quickly? I can´t recall ... He looks scared. Nothing scares him. And we´re screaming. A high pitched cry. Is it him? Me? Wait ... Merecedes the woman who cooks and cleans? Who´s screaming?? Diego´s pupils narrow like in a Sergio Leoni film. It´s a look of recognition. It´s Isa who´s screaming.
I´m already through the door ahead of him as we dash towards the bedroom. Mercedes is there and Isa is laying with her knees spread apart and her face red with pain and exertion. A basin with hot water. A thermos and some towels. Mercedes has done what she could in the short moments she´s had to react. Diego now has his cellphone out trying to call an ambulance but he curses. His battery has run out. I thrust my arm out towards him handing him mine and give myself up to the beast. I feel myself thrown against the wall as Mercedes tries to comfort Isadora wiping the sweat off her face. It can´t be. This is my son who´s about to be born. It can´t be. Don´t they see me? Don´t they realize? The rain beats at the windows but I have no sense of place now. Strange cries as time dissolves around me and the bedroom fades to a small circle surrounded by brown shadows and then that too slips quickly into a black silence.
I hear a buzzing and I finger my cellphone to see if it´s Isadora. She´s due October 18 and I´m really starting to get nervous. Diego has her installed in the farmhouse - he proposed the idea and it seemed that Isa agreed so I consented. Did I have any choice? They grow parsely and a few other herbs as well as the ubiquitous soyabeans and raise a few cattle as well. I moved in with her and Diego after spending a few lonely days at the hotel. So now Diego drives me directly to the property each morning and then picks me up at the hotel when Jeb and I return from work. I stumble over rocks and weeds and do my best to help Jeb as well as answering Jans many calls while Diego and Isa live in rural comfort at the farm. Most of the staff assumed Diego was the father until Isa corrected them. I still get wry looks every time I come home from work, tired and sweaty and needing a shower in a bad way. The provinces are a long way from Buenos Aires in every sense of the word. Especially northern Cordoba.
That buzzing ... it´s not my phone. Oh. Somewhere over to the east. Yes. The sound increases and a small Cesna appears in the sky. Jeb stares up at the plane for a short while and then comes over and sits in the shade of a lone Ceibo. Baldemo Cuiti, Dra Mazz´s assistant, is up there with the photographer. Jeb seems to trust him to supervise the photographer who´s worked for other exploration companies as well. We need to get these samples to Mendoza so Jeb has stayed here on the ground. I slump down beside him and we both chew our sandwiches. The plane disappears for a brief moment then reappears heading back the other way.
Cagnazzo call this morning?
Uh yes Jeb, he did.
So the permits are good?
The fine won´t be too bad ... yes they´re in place.
The sun is hot but the wind is a little fresher today, more in season although any coolness will soon be gone - so they tell me. Cagnazzo did indeed cash my cheque, and Diego´s as well, and yes he did take 10% off the top. I thought it best not to argue. A judge Nabu ( or was it Nabot? ) had sheparded the process and Cagnazzo had let it be known that she was related to the Saadi clan. Best not to probe further in other words. We sit and watch the plane recovering our energy for what will be a long afternoon carefully loading the samples for the trip to Mendoza. I wonder to myself whether the Saadi´s influence spills over from Catamarca into northern Cordoba or whether Cagnazzo was merely justifying his commision. Doesn´t matter, let the thought go. Jeb stands and heads up the incline and I follow him towards the plywood table and it´s metal tubes.
It is a long afternoon but we make it back to the hotel and I climb into Diego´s waiting truck. We drive out to the hacienda and I notice that the wind is picking up. Over to the west above the foothills the cloud cover is building. We hit a rough patch of gravel on the property´s road and the Ford´s windows rattle suddenly just as a dust devil swirls past us. I feel my skin prickle and the nape of my neck feels like someone is tugging at it. Oh my god. Oh my god. Please not now. Diego parks outside the kitchen door but I remain seated. He looks back and says,
Che, andas bien??
I can´t nod but I look up at him and grimace in what I hope will be taken as a tired attempt at a smile. He stares at me for a moment and then turns and heads into the house, his tall rangy body swaying from side to side. He dresses like a beach hippie but walks like he has spurs on.
I´m sweating heavily but I try to convince myself that it´s the prestorm heaviness. The wind snaps at the truck´s windows and I want to howl like a wounded wolf. More swirls of dust. More bending of branches. The first heavy drops of rain. I can´t move from my seat. I look up and see Isadora in the doorway staring at me, her belly swollen and her face worried. I fix my eyes on her but she stumbles in fright. Diego appears behind her and eases past her into the rain but Isa pulls him back. He turns, surprised and angry but she tells him something I can´t hear with the rain clattering against the roof of the truck and against the corrugated metal roof the shed. He turns hostile and tall in the mud splattered courtyard but doesn´t approach the truck. Isa has disappeared back inside ... where is she?
I still can´t move. A huge flash of lightning strikes somewhere close by. Diego doesn´t flinch. Nor do I. Strange, I´m usually a little jumpy in a thunderstorm. I feel ridiculous sitting here but it´s as if the storm´s power is coursing through me. My neck feels sore. My skin is covered in goosebumps. Deep breaths. I can´t fight much longer. More sweat from every pore. The cabin feels like a steam bath. I´m outside in the rain. Did I use my foot to kick open the door? Now I´m in Diego´s face. How did I move so quickly? I can´t recall ... He looks scared. Nothing scares him. And we´re screaming. A high pitched cry. Is it him? Me? Wait ... Merecedes the woman who cooks and cleans? Who´s screaming?? Diego´s pupils narrow like in a Sergio Leoni film. It´s a look of recognition. It´s Isa who´s screaming.
I´m already through the door ahead of him as we dash towards the bedroom. Mercedes is there and Isa is laying with her knees spread apart and her face red with pain and exertion. A basin with hot water. A thermos and some towels. Mercedes has done what she could in the short moments she´s had to react. Diego now has his cellphone out trying to call an ambulance but he curses. His battery has run out. I thrust my arm out towards him handing him mine and give myself up to the beast. I feel myself thrown against the wall as Mercedes tries to comfort Isadora wiping the sweat off her face. It can´t be. This is my son who´s about to be born. It can´t be. Don´t they see me? Don´t they realize? The rain beats at the windows but I have no sense of place now. Strange cries as time dissolves around me and the bedroom fades to a small circle surrounded by brown shadows and then that too slips quickly into a black silence.
