Encantado
The lights hurt my eyes a little as I walked into the village square, but I didn’t mind it all that much. They were party lights, meant to be that bright. The music was about as pounding as acoustic instruments could get. I liked that. It was just the right kind of tempo for the dancing I liked to do.
I looked around. It seemed as though the entire town had turned out for this. The men dressed up in their finest white suits, the women in their prettiest dresses. They were already well into the swing of things, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music.
I went straight for the center of the dance floor. I was going to have a little fun. I needed it, badly. I’d spent the last week sailing up to this point, listening to every village’s shaman tell me the same boring stories. Tonight I was just going to forget about all that and dance around a little. I didn’t feel the least bit strange about it either.
I moved into the writhing mass of bodies. For a village in the middle of Amazonia, this was an intense party. Bodies were bumping against me and the smell of sweat permeated the air. This wasn’t anything new to me though. I’d been to plenty of parties back at the college.
I caught glimpses of my team mates as we danced. Pete was sitting off in one corner with some of the old farts, drinking. That might be a problem later, I thought to myself. Pete wasn’t the kind of guy who could hold his beer well. He was probably going to be drunk for a long time, and have a hangover in the morning on top of that. I barely saw Niles. He was sitting even farther off than Pete was. The party lights cast strange reflections in those huge spectacles he wore. I could tell he wasn’t having a good time. His loss.
I became aware of somebody dancing closer to me than usual. I turned to get a good look at whoever it was. It was a young man, and a very good looking one at that. His clothes were even nicer than the ones the other gentlemen wore. Under other circumstances I would have backed off from him. But something felt right for some reason. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, or at the time I simply didn’t care. In either case, I stayed where I was.
The tempo of the music began to pick up. I danced faster in an effort to keep up. That’s when the young man next to me, got right up next to me. As in body touching body. He took my arms and began to lead me along. I tried to pull away for a moment, but he was too strong and it still felt alright. So I began to dance along with him. We ground our bodies together in time to the music. I tried dance moves with him that I never would have dared back in the States. And he was never fazed by it, but kept right up. Then the music slowed down again.
I stopped for a moment, panting deep and heavy in an attempt to catch my breath. A hand took mine. I looked and saw that it was the young man. At first I thought he wanted to take me off into the trees. I wouldn’t have done that, no matter how right that dance had just felt. But then he pointed off to a nearby table. That I could agree to. So I let him lead me over to them. I sat down, grateful for the rest.
“Well, Miss, that was something,” he said, speaking a little loud to be heard over the music. His voice had something to it, a seductive quality almost. I found myself entranced by him, despite the circumstances.
“I do not believe that we have been properly introduced,” I told him. Despite my manners out on the dance floor, there were still some things that I believed were proper and must be done. Formal introductions were one.
“Ah, of course. My name is Victor St. Juan. And you are?”
“Judy Shaw,” I replied. “How do you know English?”
“I was in Belem for a time. I picked it up from the right people. How is it that you know it?”
“I’m from the University of Pancor.”
“So you’re not from around here, I take it?”
“Oh no. I’m with an anthropological team. I listen to folktales.”
“Have you heard of the encantado? That is the only one I know of.”
I nodded my head. That was one of the most common ones. An encantado was an enchanted variety of the freshwater dolphins that lived in the river. The stories said that they took human form and visited parties to find young girls to abduct. They would then take them to the river to make them encantados like themselves. That was the jest of the thing anyway.
“Well, I’m afraid my profession is not nearly as exciting as yours,” Victor said, “I am a handy man of sorts. I travel up and down the river with my brother on various bits of business. We might sell some things here, we might fix up some things here. It all depends on what needs done and what it can be done for. I like it. It gives me a lot of free time in the evenings.”
“What’s so important about that?”
“Oh, in the evenings I go to parties. I simply cannot live without going to one at least three times a week. I just love them. I love the feeling I get when I am dancing with everyone. I can be my own person in the midst of a crowd of strangers, and no one minds.”
“Oh, what a coincidence. I love parties too!”
“Good. I am glad that we have something in common.”
Victor turned and waved to someone near the dance floor. I looked and saw that it was a man dressed just as fine as him. There was a strong physical resemblance between the two of them.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“That is my brother. You know, I said he travels with me. He loved parties just as much as I do. I am guessing that he will get lucky with some young lady later.”
“You like him then?”
“Of course. Who does not like their brother? I would do anything for him. If it came right down to it, I would even kill for him.”
That sounded a little unnerving, but then I remembered the part of the world I was in. Victor was probably no different than anyone else here as far as family loyalty was.
“Sounds like he’s lucky to have you,” I remarked.
“I only do what any family would do for its members. I know that he would do the same for me, no matter what.”
Just then the band began to play a new song. I saw Victor’s eyes light up like stars as the music reached his ears. He looked at me with a little bit of longing.
“I know this song well, Miss Shaw. Would you have the honor of dancing with me again?”
I might have objected to him. We had just met, and the first time was just for fun. But he was so handsome and sweet. How could I refuse him?
“Of course I’ll dance with you.”
He smiled and took me by the hands. We entered the dance floor yet again and began to move to the rhythm. I swayed and shook myself in time to the tempo even harder than last time. Something about this moment seemed more urgent, more intense. Victor took me and lead me across the dance floor. His hands felt firm but not hard. I let him caress me as we moved deeper and deeper into the dance.
The other dancers moved away from us, giving us room as we rocked our bodies together. I could smell the sweat of Victor’s body as he held me close to him. At that moment it smelt better than anything before. We danced our hearts out beneath the party lights. Finally the music built up to a crescendo finale and ended, leaving me in Victor’s arms, powerful and helpless at the same time. We stayed like that for a long moment. Then Victor let me go and helped me steady myself.
“That was very good, Judy. You are the best woman I have ever danced with.”
I would have answered him, but at the moment I was all out of breath. I looked up at him and nodded, smiling as wide as I could. Victor returned the smile. In that moment it felt like so much passed between us it was barely to be believed. His smile seemed to be all that I needed. The lights lit up his face and I almost fancied him to be an angel.
The sound of breaking glass rose up to take the place of the music. A scream punctuated the air. Everybody stopped and turned towards the sound of the noise, murmuring as they did. I followed the crowd.
Pete was standing over a bloody body, an equally bloody broken bottle gripped in his hand. A feeling of despair swept over me. Our team leader had just stabbed somebody in a drunken brawl. This would be great for public relations, just freaking great.
I looked down at the body. A nauseating wave swept over me as I recognized it. It was the man Victor had waved to during our conversation; his brother. How must Victor be feeling? I turned to find him, but he had simply vanished into the stunned crowd of onlookers.
Then everyone gasped in shock and terror. They began to back away from Pete in a near stampede. I turned to see what it was they feared so much and was met with a shock of my own. Where the body of Victor’s brother had been there was now the bloody corpse of a freshwater dolphin, dressed in weeds. Pete didn’t seem to notice in his drunken stupor. He just stood there, babbling nonsense and waving the bottle around.
The crowd ,meanwhile, was not having any of this. They didn’t know what devilry was going on, only that they weren’t going to stick around for any more. They cried out in angry, fearful voices as they began to clear the village square. Then a voice yelled out over them in Spanish. The crowd stopped, startled into silence by the voice.
I saw them began to part, making way for someone. Then their shaman emerged upon the grisly scene. He was an old man. Old might have been an understatement though. He looked about as old as the jungle itself, if that helps. He shuffled over to the dolphin corpse in his odd, bent-over gait that reminded one of an ape with arthritis. He prodded at it several times with his walking stick. Then he knelt down beside it and ran his hands over it. I heard him mumbling something over the corpse, but it wasn’t in any dialect I had ever heard. Then he got up and shuffled over to Pete.
“I would not want to be in your place,” he said, sticking his stick into Pete’s face and shaking it.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Pete blathered, “That slack-jawed faggot come up on me. Beano freak. Took care o’ him.”
“Mr. Harrison, please, that’s not going to help anything,” Niles said to Pete as he struggled through the crowd. I could tell he was even more uncomfortable now. He looked around, nervous, as though at any moment the crowd would seize him for the crime of his teammate.
“Nothing will help him now,” the shaman said. He pointed at the dolphin corpse with one long, wrinkled finger. “He has killed an encantado. He is cursed now.”
My mouth fell open from what I’m sure was shock. Victor’s brother was an encantado? But how? That was just a legend.
“But those are just stories,” Niles said. He was always the practical one, no matter what. I was grateful for that. I was too prone to flying off the hook myself.
“Do you call that just a story?” the shaman asked, jabbing his finger at the corpse again. His eyes glared at Niles, angry at him for dismissing what was so obvious in the shaman’s eyes.
“It’s just a joke. Somebody’s played a very good practical joke and they’ve made Mr. Harrison the butt of it.” Good old Niles. Still practical under pressure.
“No one makes light of the encantado,” the shaman said, “Your friend is cursed. And you might as well be, for being associated with him. You will bring bad things to us if you stay. Leave. Go to your boat and sail down the river. Take the evil with you.”
His words sent a chill down my spine. Then I looked at a crowd and got an even bigger one. Their eyes were full of anger. But it wasn’t what you would call hot anger, whipped up on the spur of the moment. Their eyes were cold and brooked no opposition. We would leave, or be forced to.
I walked over to Pete and started to help him walk away. Niles came over and grabbed my arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked me.
“You heard him,” I said, nodding my head at the shaman.
“He’s just superstitious,” Niles said.
“Tell that to them,” I said, pointing my hand at the crowd.
Niles turned and looked at them. He saw their faces and what was written upon them. Then he nodded his head. He got the message.
“Alright,” he said, “Let me give you a hand.”
He put Pete’s arm over his shoulder. I walked on the other side of Pete, lending what support I could there. We made our way to the docks. The crowd followed us all the way. I looked back at them a few times. Their faces were still cold and angry.
We made it to the boat and struggled to help Pete onboard. He was being quiet, but still drunk. I could smell it heavy on him. He stumbled down the stairs at least twice before we actually got him into the boat. The crowd stood on the docks the entire time, still watching, still waiting for us to leave.
We helped Pete to his hammock on deck. He lay down and went right to sleep. Satisfied that our team leader was finally taken care of, Niles and I went up to the pilot house. He started the motor up as I worked the ropes that bound us to the dock loose. The townspeople didn’t offer to help, even though it would have meant that we would have left sooner. I got all the ropes undone and went back to the pilot house.
“We’re free,” I said to Niles over the sound of the motor.
“Let’s be off then,” he said with a nod.
He turned the wheel and the boat began to pull away from the dock. The crowd watched us all the while. I guess they wanted to make sure we really left. I turned away from them and looked down the river. Beyond the reach of the town lights it was dark, darker than I had ever seen before. We left the aura of safety that the glow of the town provided and sailed out into that blackness.
