Encantado
Judy Earnshaw walked into the party area. It was very well decorated, with odd globe lamps and torches lighting up the village square. All the townspeople had turned out for this. They were dressed up in their finest party clothes, dancing and swaying their bodies to the lively music. It was a very surreal scene beneath the orange lights. But beyond their comforting glow Amazonia held its sway, harboring deep and arcane secrets from the dawn of time for those lucky or unlucky enough to find them.
Judy moved into the mass of dancing people. She was going to enjoy herself tonight. Lord knew she needed to. Ever since arriving in Belem a month ago every day had been spent doing something, whether it had been navigating down the great Amazon River, or listening to a shaman tell yet another boring old myth. Now Judy had a chance to have a little fun. She held her arms up in the air, swaying and bumping to the rhythm. The townsfolk did not seem to mind. This party was in her team’s honor anyway. It was best they act like it. Judy and Pete Harrison, the team leader, seemed to be taking that to heart. Judy caught a glimpse of him over with some of the older men. He was chortling in between sips from a beer bottle.
As Judy danced, a handsome young man took a position beside her. They moved closer and closer together as the tempo of the music increased. Soon they were intertwined, swaying and dancing as though they were one entity. Body to body, skin to skin, they writhed in celebration of nothing and yet everything. Then the music began to slow down and Judy stopped to breath. The man caught her arm and pointed to a table nearby. Judy nodded and followed him over to them.
“You’re not from here,” the young man said. Judy managed to get a better look at him. He was very well-dressed, sporting an elegant white suit and a very fine hat upon his head.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m with the university. How do you know English?”
“I was in Belem for a time,” he replied. “I was among the right people and picked it right up. My name is Victor Juan. What is yours?”
“Judy Earnshaw,” she replied.
“Then, Judy Earshaw,” Victor said. “It pleases me to make your acquaintance and to tell you that you are a very good dancer.”
“Well, thank you,” Judy replied. “You’re very good too.”
“I have had much practice,” Victor said. “I go to many parties. It is almost a profession for me. I cannot resist the music playing, all the people singing and dancing, I simply must join in.”
“Well, then we have something in common,” Judy said. “I like parties too.”
“Ah, that is good,” Victor said.
“So do you do that would allow you to go to parties, Victor?” Judy asked.
“My brother and I are handymen,” Victor said, “We travel up and down the river on various bits of business. We might sell some things here; we might fix up some things there. It all depends on what needs done and what it can be done for. Why are you here?”
“Oh, the University of Pancor sent me out with an anthropological team,” Judy said.
“I am a simple man,” Victor said. “Could you tell me just what that means?”
“Excuse me,” Judy said. “It means we’re here to study the people who live here and their way of life. My job is to collect folklore tales.”
“Then you have heard the tale of the encantado, I assume?” Victor asked. Judy nodded. That was one of the most widespread tales of Amazonia. The encantado was an enchanted variety of the freshwater dolphins that lived in the river. They would assume human form to try to steal away humans to live with them in the river. Of course, the specifics of the tale varied from region to region, but that was the main pattern they followed.
“That is the only tale I know,” Victor said, “I am afraid I do not pay attention to that sort of thing.”
A young man waved over at Victor. Victor returned the gesture. Judy looked and saw that the man bore a striking resemblance to Victor himself.
“Are you related to him?” Judy asked.
“Why yes,” Victor said, “He is the brother I was telling you of. He loves parties as much as I will. I am guessing he will get lucky with some young lady later.”
“You like him then?” Judy asked.
“Of course,” Victor said, “Who does not like their brother? I would do anything for him. I would even kill for him.”
“Sounds like he is lucky to have you,” Judy said.
“I only do what any family would do for its members,” Victor said. “I know he would do the same for me.”
The band began to play a new song. Victor’s eyes lit up as he heard it. “Ah, I know this song well,” he said. He looked to Judy. “Mrs. Earnshaw,” he said, “Would you have the honor of dancing with me yet again?”
Judy was about to object, to say that they barely knew each other and that the first time was just for fun. But he was handsome, and sweet, and who could deny that wonderful smile? Soon she found herself holding onto his hand as he led her back to the dance. They entered back into the rhythm of the music. This time their movements were more intense, more powerful. Here, there, all over the dance floor their bodies moved and swayed. Soon the other dancers cleared away from them and Victor danced their hearts out beneath the party lights, moving faster and faster as the tempo of the music picked up. Finally the music built up to a crescendo finale and ended. Judy and Victor held each other for a moment, then let go.
“That was very good, Judy,” Victor said. Judy would have replied, but she was all out of breath. The best that she could do was give her best smile and nod energetically. Victor’s smile seemed to be all the acceptance in the world that was needed. The torchlight made his face seem all aglow.
Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass, then a scream. Everybody stopped what they were doing and turned towards the sound of the noise. Pete Harrison was standing over a bloody body, an equally bloody broken bottle in his hand, babbling incoherently. Everyone gasped and drew away from him, afraid of being near him. Judy looked at the body of the man Pete had stabbed. She recognized it as belonging to the young man Victor had waved to; the one he had said was his brother. She turned to him, but he seemed to have mysteriously disappeared.
There was another gasp from the assembled crowd. Everyone began to draw back now. The mood of the crowd began to shift towards near panic. Judy turned towards the bloody scene again and was met with a shocking surprise. Instead of a bloody young man in fine dressed clothing, the corpse of a freshwater dolphin lay there. It was wrapped in weeds with a clump of mud upon its head. Pete stood over the thing, drunkenly blubbering.
The crowd began to cry out, in fear and in anger. Then a voice called out in Spanish. This seemed to calm everybody down a little bit. They parted. An old man, the resident shaman, hobbled forward on a weathered staff. Following after him was Niles Westcott, the third member of the university team. He had been off in his own little corner being relatively uncomfortable. He was not the kind of person who enjoyed parties.
The shaman looked over the bloody mess before him. He poked at the dolphin with his stick. Then he hobbled over to Pete and stuck the stick in his face.
“I would not want to be in your place, American,” he said.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Pete blathered, “That slack-jawed faggot come up on me. Beano freak. Took care a’ him”
“Pete, please,” Niles said, casting a wary eye at the crowd, “That’s not helping things much.”
“Nothing will help him now,” the shaman said, “He has killed an encantado. He is cursed now.”
“That’s impossible,” Niles said, “Encantados are just stories.”
The old shaman turned to Niles. “Do you call that just a story?” he asked him as he shook his stick at the dolphin’s corpse.
“It’s just a joke,” Niles said, “Somebody has played a very good, very convincing practical joke. That’s it. Pete’s just the butt of a very good joke.”
The shaman shook his head. “No one makes light of the encantado,” he said. “Your friend is cursed. And you might be as well, 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.”
For a moment no one moved. Pete still stood over the body, mumbling and swaying. Then Judy came forward and took Pete’s arm.
“Mr. Harrison,” she said, “We really need to go.”
“Came up on me,” Pete mumbled again.
“Yes, Mr. Harrison,” Judy said, trying to placate him. “We’ll take care of that later. Let’s go.”
Niles made as if to dissuade them, as if to insist that it was all a joke. Then he turned and looked at the faces of the crowd. Every single one of them had hardened into a frown. They wanted no part of them. They believed in the encantado still. So Niles went over to Pete as well.
“She’s right, Mr. Harrison,” he said, “It’s better to just go right now.”
Pete stood dumbly for a moment. His eyes stared head and his jaw hung slack. Then he began to stagger forward. Judy and Niles each took one of his arms and directed his stumbling towards the boat. The townspeople crowded in behind them as they made their way down the street towards the dock. They were going to make sure that these people left, make sure they left and took all their bad luck with them.
The three Americans made it to their river boat. Niles took Pete and helped him get from the pier onto the boat. Judy went around and began to untie the moorings. She felt uncomfortable as she did this. All the people still stood there watching them, arms crossed and eyes glaring. The boat roared to life as Niles turned the motor on. They wordlessly pushed off from the sullen dock and began to sail into the Amazonian night.
