Jo-el

Chapter 16 RIO

I slept like a log during the night and woke feeling like a new man. It was six a.m. and my mind began turning over the ‘end-of-world’ thing. It was such a long way off, which made it hard to feel any urgency. I could see that if I was to suddenly appear in the media, flying around like superman and bouncing to distant parts of the globe it would solicit a tremendous amount of interest. I reckoned there would be a decent percentage of people that would believe what I said, end-of-the-world predictions were common in history. I think I’d read a few years ago that Nostradamus had predicted the end of the world. But would that cause the governments of the world, specifically the US, to take it seriously? They’d probably want to imprison me, then dice me up to see how I ticked. The idea that they would allocate vast sums of money to study such a wild notion seemed unlikely. Maybe one of those billionaire guys would fund it, a bunch of them were fascinated in space travel. Perhaps that was the solution. Which reminded me of the pills and then it dawned on me why I felt so damn great this morning. It was an idea, bait the rich guy with the life pill and use the cash to figure out how to save the world. It all seems nuts but this last week was right up there with the nuttiest.

I decided to forget it for a while. Sally had said I needed to get used to the technology and it certainly seemed like a great way to spent the day.

Showered and feeling like a million dollars I considered my alternatives for breakfast. I always thought of Rio as south, same time zone give or take. Wrong! Six hours ahead. It’s way east. Seven a.m. now, so one p.m. in Rio, I guess I could grab some lunchtime street fare and call it breakfast. Weather was hot down there, eighty-five degrees, that would be nice. I’d never been to South America, let’s do it.

I changed into shorts and T-shirt with sandals, took on the same persona as the Bahamas surfer-dude and fired up the display to look for a good place to touch down. There was a park right on one end of Ipanema beach with dense trees. Parque Garota de Ipanema. I told the computer to put me down behind a tree, out of sight.

Bounce.

I was there, this time on both feet, that was a first. It took a few seconds to get used to my new environment. The temperature was overwhelming. A middle-aged couple came into view; they took no notice of me. I walked out of the park toward the beach, the sun was bright and an east wind blew strongly off the ocean. The vista along the beach was spectacular. I could see thousands of people enjoying themselves, swimming and sun-bathing, chatting and eating. The beach was lined with high-rise buildings as far as the eye could see. Hotels, no doubt. Breakfast I thought and headed along the sand. It was then that I realized I didn’t have any local currency. Damn. I looked at the cash I’d picked up, forty-five US bucks. What was the currency here? I had no idea. I would have to get help from Sally. Maybe they took US dollars? It was worth a try. I was trying so hard to do this alone.

I carried on walking along the beach, none of the street vendors selling tacos and fried chicken enticed me. I turned inland, where there were copious signs of eateries and found a café plugged into the basement of a high-rise on the corner of a busy street. It had outside seating with Samba music playing quietly in the background. There were a few young people enjoying the ambiance, drinking coffee and eating what looked like rolls with cheese and ham. Perfect. The excitement of being so far away from my home pushed me forward. I asked a waiter if they took US dollars, he shook his head and pointed at an ATM across the street. Dang, that’s no good. I wasn’t carrying a cash-card and couldn’t use one anyway, it would leave an electronic trail of my travels and probably get canceled. Banks were very careful these days. Two guys, who looked like tourists, were sitting at a table by the door watching me. I asked the nearest one where I could change some US dollars and showed him the cash I had. They were English, the accent easy to spot.

“Sit down, we’ll work it out,” he said. “I’m Ian, he put out a fist.” Fist bump, not my age group but I can go with it. Very hygienic. “Dave,” I said and quickly regretted it. Then thought, why the hell not.

“Run out?”

“What?”

“Money.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“Where you staying?”

Oh crap! Where am I staying? “Around the corner,” I said and Ian didn’t seem to care.

“This is Simon, we’re from London.”

“San Fran,” I said, going with the flow. “What’s good, here?” I was hungry.

“Pizza is good.”

“I just need coffee and maybe a roll.”

Ian waved over the waiter and I ordered the executive breakfast, which came with ham and cheese. Whatever. No need for translation, everybody spoke English.

The two guys were chatty; they were taking a one-week trip to escape the cold. Easter break from college, leaving tomorrow. Ian was tall, with a mop of brown hair that covered his face down to his eyes. Simon looked unwashed, his t-shirt grubby and shoes old. Both were wearing shorts festooned with pockets. I didn’t want to appear stupid so I asked Sally for the exchange rate. My breakfast was about fifteen dollars, that was fine. I made a mental note to carry more cash and get some local currency before travelling.

The coffee was excellent and the rolls fresh. I needed to use the bathroom, which is casa de bahno in Portuguese, so headed to the back of the café. When I returned the two Brits were gone. At first I didn’t think anything untoward had happened, so I sat down and looked around the café and outside to find them. Five minutes passed and I wasn’t so sure. I beckoned the waiter over, the same one who’d said they don’t take US dollars and asked if they’d paid? No, he said. Fuck! I’d been stiffed. Son of a bitch! I don’t believe it. That’s 0 for 2. Now what?

The waiter called over another guy, broad shoulders and a face like a bull-mastiff. He was very clear.

“You have to pay for all, senior.”

“They ran out, it’s not my fault. I’d only just met them,” I pleaded. But now their command of the English language was deteriorating. They began speaking to each other in Portuguese. I told Sally to translate. The gist was they knew exactly what had happened, the waiter had seen everything. He also told the bull-mastiff I only had US dollars. I saw the look on his face deepen into a nasty frown, his eyebrows meeting in the middle. They wanted their money and I was their only source. A bill for all the food appeared suddenly, two hundred and thirty Brazilian Reals, which Sally told me was about fifty-eight bucks, I didn’t have enough.

Sally’s voice echoed in my ear. “They are discussing calling the police.”

Not again, I thought, remembering my failure at being a poor black guy.

I reached into my pocket and brought out my forty-five dollars, perhaps they would take that as better than nothing. It was only thirteen dollars short.

I saw the bull-mastiff pull a cell-phone from his back pocket, an I-phone six, these guys did well. Shit! What now? I began running scenarios. I could run, I liked that, I felt good and as soon as I was out of site, I’d disappear, literally. Or, I would be hauled off to the police station. This is Brazil, I’m sure they treated tourists okay but I didn’t want to find out. Option one got my vote.

The scene was generating the attention of other customers. Two young girls, at a table outside by the window were showing a lot of interest.

In my ear, I heard, “they called the police, you’ve only got two minutes.” Gee thanks, Sally. Fuck! I was just about to exit stage left, when one of the girls rose up and came towards me. She beamed happiness and held out a credit card. I was speechless. Here was an act of kindness, the world was not going to pot. The waiter saw what was happening and shouted something at the bull-mastiff, then reached out and took the credit card.

“I’m only thirteen dollars short.” I said to the girl standing by my table, pushing my forty-five dollars in her direction to ease the pain.

She smiled warmly and said, “that’s okay, we couldn’t see a fellow American dragged off.” She was American, don’t you just love ‘em? Her long, brown hair was pinned back in a pony-tail, her face soft with high, angular cheek bones. She reminded me of the blond girl in Friends, but not so tall. “Come over and join us,” she added.

The waiter smiled, the bull-mastiff was nowhere to be seen and I didn’t hear any sirens. All was good. I joined the two young ladies at their table, but my mind was on the Brits, I was going to get her money back and repay their kindness. The beauty was, it would be a piece of cake. Those assholes didn’t know who they were messing with?

“Thank-you so much,” I said, pulling out a chair to sit down. “They stiffed me!”

“No problem, you’re cute,” said the Friends girl. She said her name was Melody and her companion was Briana, both from Austin, Texas. Those southern girls are forward, I thought.

“Dave,” I said, holding out a hand to shake, but they both just giggled. “How long will you be here?”

They looked at each other, Melody said, “half hour or so, we only just ordered.”

“Okay, I’m going to get your money back. Don’t go away.” I left before they could object.

Around the corner I called up Sally on the heads-up. “Where are those guys?”

“They went to Ipanema beach. They’re sitting on a wall watching the sea.”

“Where are they staying?”

“Hotel Metro.”

“What room?”

“Three-two-four.”

“Bounce me in there as soon as I’m out of sight.”

“Okay.” I walked across the street to the entrance to the General Osorio Metro station and walked down the steps looking for somewhere to hide. There was a pillar, I started to walk around it but didn’t make it. I had bounced into a hotel room and immediately fell over. I needed more practice. It was untidy with clothes strewn everywhere. The customary hotel safe was attached to the wall in the closet.

“What’s the code?”

“Five, six, seven, eight.”

Original. I punched in the numbers. Inside were two passports, an ipad, a wallet and some loose English pound coins. I picked up the coins and put them in my pocket and looked through the wallet. A credit card said Ian LaTrain, there were more pound notes all twenties and tens, probably two hundred pounds altogether and five hundred and fifty Brazilian Real. I pocketed all the money and the passports, then put the wallet back in the safe and smiled. I left the safe open. Fuck-you guys.

“Bounce me back to the café.”

“Okay.”

I waited a few seconds, guessing that Sally was figuring out a good landing spot. Then, suddenly I was in an alley, standing in a doorway, on two feet, yeah! For a moment, I was disorientated, “where’s the café?”

“Turn right, then left, it’s there.”

I did what she said and the café was on my left, the two girls still at the same table. They didn’t see me, I crossed the road again and dumped the passports in a trash bin outside the Metro station then when back to my new friends. Oh, that felt so good. “Thanks Sally.”

I’d only been gone five or six minutes; they’d only just received their order. I grinned at Melody and brought out the Reals peeling off two hundred, I handed them to her. “Thanks again, this and the dollars should cover your meal,” I said. She didn’t object, I don’t think she had paid any attention to the actual amount she’d signed for with the credit card.

I ordered coffee and watched the girls eat. Between small talk I checked them out on the heads-up. It felt a little like I was snooping but I didn’t care, they were very young. They were from wealthy families in Austin, both on Spring Break from Texas U. Melody’s father was working in Rio and she had tagged along, bringing her friend. They were heading back to Austin on Wednesday, missing a day of classes. Neither was likely to make the honor roll. Since being in Rio, both had had sex with two different guys and one time they’d had a threesome with a guy from Holland. This was written on the screen and was followed with the word ‘Private’ in black capitals.

“What’s the ‘private’ designation, Sally?”

“You can’t see the actual sex,” she answered.

“Why?”

“It’s private and consensual, all such things are blocked.”

“Explain.”

“The Cirion people have blocked all things that are innocent and private for millions of years. Only if there is a crime can they be viewed. As soon as someone walks inside their home or into a private area, like a hotel room, providing they don’t do anything wrong, it’s blocked. Out of the house they are deemed to be in public.

I had to think about that for a while. The ACLU would be happy. Seemed totally reasonable to me.

I wondered where Melody’s father was, being a Sunday, and discovered that he was being entertained by his client at Girls-a-gogo. Need I say more. Like father like daughter.

I reviewed their conversation together while I’d been gone and wasn’t surprised to find out that I was earmarked as their next conquest. I felt flattered and confused. My loins swelled and I crossed my legs awkwardly. The temptation was enormous, but Mary had only been gone a few months and I just couldn’t come to terms with the situation. I wondered what Sally thought? And that made me question why I would worry about what my computer would think? The holographic image played tricks with your mind. Interesting perspective, leave it to the phycologists to sort out.

I feigned the need to use the bathroom and didn’t return. It made me feel guilty but I had no doubt that they would find a willing male very quickly and forget about the one that got away.

I walked along Ipanema beach watching the people. The girls were everything I’d fantasized about and more. Beautiful, slim bodies a perfect shade of brown. Bikinis so small that nothing was left to the imagination. The young men had hard bodies and swim shorts that also left little to picture. Then there were the old brown bodies, men and women strolling along slowly, no doubt reminiscing about their youth and the time when they too would solicit the gazes of the voyeurs. In between the tall buildings across the street I caught sight of Christ the Redeemer. That icon of Rio and Brazil. Mary so wanted to visit the statue one day, but we always put it off until it was too late. She was a good Catholic girl, attending church often, usually without me. Yet she never criticized my lack of faith and always appeared content that her husband was faithful and what she called a ‘good family man’.

I crossed the street to a hotel and found a back stairway. “Sally, bounce me to the statue, out of sight.”

“Okay.” She didn’t need to be told what statue. I waited for two or three minutes, realizing that she was having a little difficulty finding a spot out of sight, then suddenly I was standing on a concrete landing directly behind the statue. There were steps both sides, I walked to the right and then around to the front and gazed up at the face of Jesus. My mind turned to Mary and a tear rolled gently down my cheek. I was cognizant of two nuns not too far off, watching me, I glanced at them and smiled. I could see the joy in their faces at my tears, I’m sure they believed that the statue of Jesus had caused my emotion.

I stood looking at the statue for some time, then walked to the edge of the parapet to enjoy the view of Rio de Janeiro. I’d visited few city vistas that compared with the majesty of the skyscape. The high-rise buildings and bay with all sizes of vessel, the mountains and hills and the ocean stretching as far the haze allowed. Truly a magnificent and fitting place for Jesus to watch over his flock.

It was crowded, so I moved back to allow others a better vantage point. Alone, against a wall at the back of the statue I called up Sally and asked her to join me. After a few minutes she came up the same steps I’d taken and stood close. She was dressed in a modest outfit, befitting the religious tone of the surroundings. She smiled warmly and we walked to the front of the statue.

“HE is majestic, isn’t HE?” I said. “I wish Mary was here with me. I wanted to share this with someone.” She placed her hand alongside my head and brought her mouth to my cheek as if to kiss me. I felt nothing but my heart sang. We stood for a while.

“How would Jesus rescue the people of our planet?” I asked with enthusiasm. Sally was quiet, she glanced up at the statue. “How do you expect me to be even a drop of water in an ocean that is Jesus Christ? What you ask of me in our world seems impossible. If it is predetermined that the earth will be destroyed by a galactic storm, isn’t it HIS decision, shouldn’t we just accept it? HIS followers and those who worship other religious icons will not leave this world. They will believe that they will be protected by HIS grace.” I stopped talking and waited, but it was unfair of me. I had no right to expect Sally or her makers to have an answer to those questions.

Her voice was soft and exuded compassion. “Jo-el, if Jesus was alive today, what would he say if he knew of the impending doom? Wouldn’t he work until his life ebbed away to save you. Isn’t that what he stood for? The earth is just one planet in a universe of a million planets. If the waters of the Jordan threatened to flood his village wouldn’t Jesus lead the people to safety?” She had made her point and she was right, as usual. The she said. “Blessed are the gentle for they shall inherit the earth.” I didn’t know what she meant by that, not at that moment anyway.

“You see that boy, over there in the dark blue shorts?” Sally said, breaking the reverie.

I turned and followed the direction of her eyes. The boy was studying his cell phone. He appeared to be a local, his black hair was messy and thick and his tan deep. He wore a baseball cap backwards. I nodded.

“He’s a pickpocket.”

“Here!” I exclaimed, truly offended.

“An older boy at the base of the statue, you can’t see him from here, is guiding him and their mother is standing around the back. She takes the wallets and purses, or whatever they steal. The husband is the security guard at the bottom of the back steps just in case something goes wrong.”

“The whole family? It’s an industry.”

“Most people are off their guard at the statue and don’t realize what’s missing until they have descended. They feel a sense of contentment by the statue of Jesus, almost as if he wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen in his midst.”

“Who are they targeting? I asked.

“Right now it’s a lady whose carry bag is open. Red blouse, white pants, by the edge looking at the view. If you request, I can stop him.” A devilish gleam appeared in her eyes.

“You need me to tell you?”

“I can’t act without instruction.”

“Why not?”

“It’s how it works.”

“I feel like a conduit for you.”

“No, don’t feel like that. I’m here to help and point out things that you can’t see. If you don’t act, I will not be offended.”

“How will you do it?”

“Knock his hand when he takes the purse from her bag, so that he drops it.”

“You can do that?”

“I fire a blast of atoms just hard enough to hurt his hand.”

“But what about the rest of whatever they’ve stolen?” I asked.

“Up to you, Jo-el.”

“Why are we doing this?”

“I want you to see what you can do. It’s part of your instructions.”

“Never ending,” I mused. “Sure, do it.” I could see in her expression she wanted to. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

I watched the boy and after a while he moved closer to the lady by the edge. I could see her bag gaping open, the strap over her left shoulder. The boy was behind her now, he was checking to see if anyone close by was watching. We were too far away to bother him. His hand reached up and dived into the bag, I saw the purse as he removed it. Suddenly he screamed and swung to the side, grabbing his hand and dropping the purse. The lady turned around and saw her purse on the ground as the boy run off clutching his hand. She screamed ‘thief’. But no one did anything. A sense of confusion descended the crowd and after a little while most people continued what they were doing. I could see that some people were checking their pockets and bags to make sure nothing was missing. I didn’t see anyone showing concern. I turned to Sally, who was grinning like a cat.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” I said.

“Just a bit of fun.”

“What’s he doing now?” I asked.

“They’re leaving for now. People are on their guard; they’ll be back in a little while.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

“Where to?”

I paused for moment and then said Australia. “What’s the time in Alice Springs.”

Sally said, “It’s almost two thirty in the morning.”

“Good, darkness.”