The Dream Merchant (29 page)

Jim promised to make Luis and Ribamar wealthy men. Soon Jim's top guys would never have to work another day in their lives.

Ribamar stood outside the circle, watching and smoking a cigarette, listening to the sounds beyond the clearing. He was a sentinel among fools. Jim cast him a glance. No more time for the music, Ribamar, not now. Ribamar nodded. He drew his own conclusions.

*   *   *

Except for the girl, trips to Manaus felt to Jim like bloated time, dragging his heels, waiting for Luis. Too much eating and sitting around Brazilian steak restaurants, driving to stores flanked by his big men mopping their faces. He put off calling Phyllis—tried to force the dying world out of his head. He had work to do back in the camp. They were rolling, and the gathering pace of it thrilled him. He needed to be back there. He wanted to start cutting timbers for the sluice box. He needed Luis, and more often than not he couldn't find him. Luis was irreplaceable for his gift for drawing talent from a hat. But Jim also counted on Luis to translate when he sold the gold to one of the local buyers, and twenty other things. Jim wasn't getting the best prices. It was impossible to negotiate in Portuguese.

Without Luis, Jim had too much time to think and he felt dragged down by his own deficiencies. He wasn't sure if they were making a profit or even breaking even. He had never learned to read spreadsheets. He didn't know how to do research. Jim didn't have patience for such things. He wasn't Marvin Gesler.

Luis went off to his women friends. He needed time for himself. He tried to tell Jim that something was wrong. Luis had become afflicted by dread. For no reason his heart would begin racing. He had premonitions. It was something more cataclysmic than worry about disease or animals. An expression would pass across his face, terror and loathing for the work they were doing in the jungle, as though he were casting a warning.

Luis, what's wrong, man? Why are you looking at me that way? Don't you see what we're doing here! Luis covered his face with his hand, a delicate, girly gesture, trying to erase his expression. He tried to change himself for Jim, but Luis was losing his grip. He ran off to his girls for solace and to search for himself apart from the camp and Jim's unwavering convictions. Luis dreamed of corpses crowding him in his own bed. One day, out of the blue, he grasped Jim's arm and said, I know you are leaving me, going back to America. Please, Jim, don't go. Luis's face was awash and he looked a little green and teary. Jim shook his head, no. I'm not going anywhere.

Jim needed the gold. He had to have it. It never occurred to him that he might lose the house on Lake Ontario. He was jarred by this news much more than by the reappearance of Ava. He'd always believed that she would show up one day. Even after learning that the government had seized his factories, he never thought that they could take his house. With that place sitting on the lake he could thumb his nose at Marvin Gesler. He could succeed in the gold business or fail because he had the house behind him; it was worth millions; he had been esteemed for owning such a place. Now he was playing without a safety net. He only had the girl whom he didn't understand (but he loved her more and more) and the gold, which only came in trickles. Jim could make it work in his favor. He'd done that as a boy, come back from zero. He'd saved his family when they were starving. These were the stakes he liked best, all or nothing. He could do it, rev up the energy and conviction and win.

Jim showered all the men with promises and hope. He inspired them, even Luis, though he came ahead half-crazed.

Luis wrested the idea out of his tortured being. It was so obvious. Why not bring Iliana into their operation? She had studied geology at the university. She was available, waiting for the chance to launch her career. What would be the risk? Jim needed a real expert who knew where to look for gold. They had five hundred people out on the land, guessing where to dig. At least talk to her. Maybe she would make some suggestions about where to construct the sluice box. She could save them months of trial and error.

*   *   *

What a smile she had, broad and captivating and self-assured. She spread her geologic maps and aerial photographs on Jim's rough-planked dining room table. Iliana was wearing rayon pants, an off-white silk shirt, and sandals with three-inch stiletto heels, everything classy and expensive. Iliana put the stakes right out there with maps, charts, the insider lingo of meandering rivers, black shale, granite, earth fissures. She was here for considerable money. She would deliver. He should take a long look. She sold herself like a Mercedes.

That Hollywood smile and great legs made him a little breathless. She laid out her ideas. There were things to look for, drainage patterns, other clues about the evolution of the landscape. She was very firm and sure-handed. She would cost a lot. A lot. Iliana was high maintenance. And Jim felt the danger, right then, in the first minutes. She was Ramon's girl. They would be in the jungle together. That tension was a part of her proposal. She liked risks and money. Iliana was very smart. She could deliver the gold.

The smells of Angela's dinner seemed to seal the deal. Jim always relished her stew with meat and potatoes. He remarked on the smells from the kitchen, but there was an expression on Iliana's face, some mild distaste.

Listen, for all her fancy geology talk, Jim didn't know if Iliana was a real scientist. He knew she'd cost plenty. She appealed to him and that's how Jim did business. He went with his gut. In minutes, maybe in the first minute, she'd become his hired expert. His mind was racing. She could take over the Manaus end. She could sell the gold for him in town, get better prices than Luis. Jim wouldn't have to worry if Luis was off with his girlfriends. Luis didn't know the ins and outs of selling gold. She did. Maybe she was feeding Jim a line, but he didn't think so. He didn't comparison shop. When he liked a car he bought it right off the showroom floor while he felt first love. Iliana was a beauty.

Angela served the food and Jim kept his eyes on one of the maps. All of a sudden he felt ashamed about Angela. He didn't want Iliana to know that his girl was a peasant with no education, no good clothes; she was dirty every night from planting in the field.

Angela was clearly pleased with herself. She had prepared his favorite meal, and he nodded, pretending to be focused on big business. Then she was back in the kitchen. It was an awkward situation, but he started to enjoy it. Jim got away with things his whole life. He always believed that he could slide through and win.

He and Iliana were drinking red wine. She was beautiful all right, long legs, lustrous black hair. She liked to run her hands through her hair. He wanted to touch her hand and then he did, let it linger for a moment, making his point. She smiled at him. All of this was happening very fast.

He'd eaten half his plate before he noticed she wasn't touching her food.

What's wrong? he asked.

I'm not very hungry.

Come on. You don't like meat or something? It's delicious.

Do you know what she's cooked for you?

It's a stew.

She wrinkled her nose. Jim, the name of it is
nutria
. It means “rat.” A big rat.

Iliana spoke perfect English with barely a trace of an accent. She had spent three years in Chicago going to high school while living with an aunt.

When I was a kid, I'd smell them roasting behind the house, she continued, the dinner for our servants. In my country, poor people will eat anything. She's feeding you rat.

Iliana shook her head, to brush aside the subject. He smelled the light fragrance of rose and lavender. Then he breathed her again; he couldn't restrain himself. She nudged him ahead with hints and dares. What arrangement do you have in mind, Jim? She smiled. It was a large question. She had a very big ambition. He needed a lot of help. He needed to find the gold and sell it at the best price. Jim knew where this was leading, but maybe it was okay. If she could find the gold.

She backed off a little, tucked her feet up underneath her. She told him a little about her background. Her father had owned an anthracite mine a hundred miles north of Manaus. After returning from the States she had studied geology and mining at the university so she could help her dad with his operation. She adored her father. During her last year in school, he got sick and soon after he lost the business. He died one year later. It happened so quickly. Iliana was biting her lip. Everything was lost. She'd trusted her father. Her dreams were linked to his. Each month she sent money back to her mother, who was looking after Iliana's three younger sisters. All this tragedy had made her angry and very directed. There were many sides to Iliana. She wanted Jim to see this. But she always kept her eye on the mark. She could come at you from many angles. She was faster than he was, and probably smarter. She was hard to locate. No one possessed her.

Jim nodded.

Look, Jim, I'm not looking for a salary, not even a good salary.

Jim nodded and pushed his plate away.

She waited until it was almost awkward. Jim, I think this could work out. For both of us, I do. She took a breath and then the softness was all gone. You're finding gold on your property every day. Not so much, but every day your men take some from the ground. That's important. Many areas in the Amazonas region have no gold. There is a chance to be wealthy, exceedingly wealthy. You need to find a dense concentration or you're wasting time. There are clues. I can help you with this part. There are signs to look for. Maybe you are sleeping on top of it. I'll find the gold and I'll sell it for you. I can do this, but I don't want to be cut out. I'm not coming into this for a few dollars. I'm not looking for a salary. I want a deal based upon what I produce.

Iliana wanted a piece of the action. She would deliver a lot. His choice.

For a few minutes now, Angela had been standing in the doorway and she could feel the room alive with bold plans. Soon there would be a course change in her life. But where would it lead? She came to Jim and leaned against him with her arm draped softly on his shoulder. She had no idea of the scope of Jim's conversations with this stranger or how they might come to affect her. Most of her life with Jim was based on guessing. Whenever Angela listened to his business dreams her wonder took the shape of a slightly bemused smile that he loved, even now, when he had been revealed.

*   *   *

Each morning Iliana and four men headed out from the camp, hacking their way through heavy underbrush and tough, tangled vines. They inched north toward the Rio Novo, clearing away swatches of vegetation so she could measure rises and dips in the land and in some areas digging down until they found gravel; then they moved a little to the east and worked back to camp; it was exhausting work, back and forth, steadily edging east toward the far end of the landing strip. Even in the baking heat and humidity, Iliana dressed in tailored khakis like a model on a shoot. But she kept pushing into the forest, nearly oblivious to the hordes of gnats and sand flies and the danger of the cats, and she was methodical and forceful with the men. She brought a few instruments to make basic tests, but mainly she was looking around. There were certain key tells: the color of the topsoil, the placement of rocks. Again and again, she ordered them to clear patches of earth so she could examine the shape of the exposed land. She worked long hours. Once she got to the end of the landing strip, she planned to widen the search to the east and, if necessary, she would study the land closer to the river, but for logistical reasons it would be much better if the sluice box could be constructed close to the camp.

At dark she slumped down on a rough bench in front of the cantina and drank a beer. She was exhausted from the heat and swatting bugs. She pulled off her socks and massaged her feet. She had pretty little feet. The gunmen looked her over. A few of them knew that she was Ramon Vega's girl, or had been, and the news spread through the camp and spawned rumors and racy conjectures about the future. In a little while, she asked Luis or Ribamar to watch the door while she washed herself in the communal shower area, just off the dining hall.

The finished camp consisted of three rectangular thatch-roofed buildings, held up by rough-hewn wooden poles that had been the skinny trunks of young
a
aí
trees. The buildings were strung along the western end of the landing strip. The dormitory, farthest to the west, had twenty-five cots and was where Iliana slept, curtained off from Jim's gunmen and Luis. Jim's small sleeping and office space was on the east end of this building. Next came the cantina, a plain room large enough for seven tables and a small bar where late at night a short raven-haired Indian girl named Maria danced for the men. Each night of the week men fell in love in this unadorned place with uneven planks resting on the dirt and a leaky roof. The six tiny cubicles where the girls worked and slept were a separate structure just east of the cantina.