Elusive Hope (17 page)

Elaborate churches rose like guardians of light over the shadows of debauchery in the streets as the crowd drank and danced in celebration. The idol worship offended even Hayden’s nonreligious sensibilities. Though he was sure they were shouting “Saint John! Saint John!” the entire festival seemed to have popped from the pages of some pagan ritual. Especially in light of the prostitutes lingering about. Large Negresses dressed in ruffles and lace, wearing high-heeled slippers, their necks and arms loaded with gold chains and ivory, and their heads adorned in colorful turbans, squatted before shops and dared to lounge even on church steps, baring bosoms to men who passed by.

Hoping to protect Magnolia from the sight, Hayden hurried her along, but her gasp and “Mercy me” told him he had failed. Rounding another corner, he led her away from the celebration, trying to recall the way to the immigration office. A donkey-led tramcar clanked along in front of them as dozens of mulattoes in every shade possible wove through the crowd, carrying sugarcane, bananas, oranges, prawns, and fish.

“Can you show me the way to the dock master? I need to see when the next ship leaves for the States.” Magnolia finally released his hand and drew her parasol from her valise. “Perhaps there’s one leaving tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to miss it. Of course you don’t have to accompany me. I could meet up with you later to say our good-byes.”

Her voice sounded odd, hurried and clipped. When he glanced at her, she did not meet his gaze.

“They are closed in the afternoon,” he said, not entirely sure of that fact, but it made for a good excuse to delay her plans. Besides, they’d passed several businesses and shops that had signs posted on their doors and no patrons within. Closed for the festival, no doubt. Which meant the immigration office might be locked up as well. Blast! He’d have to wait another day to find out about his father.

“Closed?” Her voice was so despondent, it nearly broke him.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning.” If—and only if—Hayden discovered his father had returned to America.

He turned down Rosario Street, where, if he remembered correctly, there was a hotel, Hotel d’Europe, which favored foreign guests. The least he could do before he swindled Magnolia out of most of her money—if it came to that—would be to provide her a decent room, a bath, and some food.

Shops lined the narrow street, their second stories housing for city dwellers. Carne secca and dried cod, along with bags of
feijjoes
and Minas cheeses sat in piles in front of the stores, emitting the most foul odor. Magnolia shifted her parasol and drew a hand to her nose, but her gaze soon found the bay and all discomfort vanished from her face.

“Look at the ships! Can you tell if any are American?” She halted, her eyes skittering over the water.

With the sun low in the sky behind them, the bay of Rio De Janeiro spread a panorama of glistening emerald across the horizon, dotted with boats, barges, and ships of all sizes: steamers, frigates, sloughs, brigs, and a Dutch trading ship, from what Hayden could tell. Large barks with high lateen sails, navigated by Negroes and laden with fruit, sped across the bay to the various pretty islets strewn like gems across the water.

“We’ll check tomorrow. Come along.” He offered his hand but she drew her valise to her chest and hugged it instead, giving him a look of suspicion. “Where are we going?”

“To get you a room for the night. You’d like a bath and a real bed, wouldn’t you?”

Her face lit. Followed by a flash of her pretty white teeth. It was the first smile she had graced him with in several days. And he hated how good it made him feel. Like he was worthy. Like she trusted him. Like he’d do anything to keep that smile on her pink lips.

Even pay for the room at the Hotel d’Europe with his own money. Seven dollars. Good thing they accepted American money and didn’t expect Reis, the local currency. Yet now Hayden had only five dollars left in his pockets. At least until tomorrow.

After unlocking the door to the room, Magnolia spun to face him, a look of horror on her face. “Where are
you
going to stay?”

Hayden rubbed the stubble on his chin and grinned. He’d love to tease her and insist they share the room, but she looked so pathetic and tired standing there in her stained, ripped gown and dirt-smudged skin, her hair all askew. “Is that an invitation?” All right, so he couldn’t resist a little taunting.

“Of course not! How dare you insinuate—”

Hayden placed a finger on her lips. “Don’t vex yourself, Princess, I can take care of myself.”

At this, her eyes narrowed, and she swatted his hand away. “Very well.” She set down her valise and started to close the door.

Hayden’s boot halted its progress. “Why don’t we settle accounts now?” He held out his hand. Something about the woman’s demeanor pricked his suspicion. Surely she wasn’t planning on running off before she paid him. She couldn’t be that devious. Besides, she still needed him to escort her to the dock master tomorrow.

One brow lifted above eyes alight with enough mischief to confirm Hayden’s suspicions.

“Do you take me for a complete fool?”

Hayden smiled.
Well
…

“Our bargain was that you’d bring me to the dock master. Besides, I won’t know how much I have left over until I purchase my ticket.” She pushed on the door then let out an exasperated sigh. “Now, if you’ll please remove your mammoth boot, I’d like to rest.”

Hayden studied her as she stared at the floor. Something wasn’t right. But whether it was simply the woman’s normal theatrics or something far more duplicitous he didn’t know. He blew out a sigh. Magnolia was spoiled and pretentious and the most frustrating woman he’d ever met, but she wasn’t shrewd. Especially not shrewd enough to trick the likes of him.

“If you try to run away with the money, Princess, I’ll find you at the dock master’s in the morning. There’s only one in town.”

Anger flared across her eyes, but only for a moment before she rubbed her forehead and leaned on the door as if she were going to faint. “I would never do such a thing. I’m just so tired, Hayden.”

He shook his head, wondering whether to believe a word this woman said. “How about I return in a couple hours and escort you to dinner?”

She raised her eyes to his. Where moments before they’d spiked with annoyance, now they softened with what looked like sorrow. But that couldn’t be.

“Thank you. That will be lovely,” she said with a weak smile.

Hayden resisted the urge to run a finger over her cheek, to feel its softness, to see her response. Instead, he withdrew his boot. “Until then.” He backed away from the door, expecting her to slam it on him. But she stared at him for another minute, her eyes becoming pools, before she closed it with a click that nipped his heart.

Reflecting on the woman’s odd behavior, Hayden passed the time strolling the city streets, gazing at the oddities of this foreign place. Curiosity led him past the immigration office, just to see if it was open, and then inside when he found the door ajar. Though he’d wanted to have Magnolia—and her money—with him when he questioned Mr. Santos, he couldn’t help himself from inquiring whether the man was there. A pudgy, grease-faced fellow wearing a suit that had gone out of fashion a decade ago informed Hayden, in rather broken English, that the immigration officer was away and wouldn’t return until tomorrow. However, if the matter was urgent, Hayden might find him that evening at a party at the home of Adelino Manuel Guerra da Costa, one of the city’s magistrates. The squirrely man even gave Hayden directions, but then quickly chastised himself with a chuckle saying that the party was by invitation only. His brandy-drenched belch a moment later confirmed Hayden’s suspicions that the man would probably have given Hayden his mother as a gift if he had asked.

Regardless, Hayden emerged from the office into the heat of the languishing day with a huge smile on his face. He’d rather meet Santos with an advantage—a rather beautiful advantage carrying a pouch of gold. How could any man resist Magnolia? Within moments of lavishing him with her Southern charm, Mr. Santos would melt like warm butter in her hands. And Hayden would discover his father’s whereabouts—if the swine had even returned to Rio. If not, perhaps he’d sent one of his colonists with information on a new location as Blake wanted Hayden to do. Hayden knew the immigration office kept updated records of each colony’s precise acreage and position, and since his father was not where Mr. Santos had originally told Hayden he would be, he must have moved to a new area and reported the change. A huge gamble, but a reasonable one, and the only option Hayden had at the moment for finding the man. And finally ending his lifelong quest. Finally putting things right. For him. For his mother.

Alternatively, if his father had sailed back to America, Hayden would be able to escort Magnolia home and ensure her safety. He wouldn’t have to swindle her, wouldn’t have to betray her trust and return her to New Hope. For the first time in his life, the thought of not cheating someone pleased him immensely, along with the thought of spending more time with the lady.

He shook his head, wondering if he’d contracted some brain-eating jungle fever, for she’d done nothing but annoy him to distraction these past five days. No, that wasn’t true. The lady had surprised him in more ways than one. The sad story of the debt she owed her father, how he used her for her beauty like some prize horse, how some swindler broke her heart, her concern over Hayden’s unhappy past, her resilience these past few days—all had stirred something in his soul. Made him realize that, despite the wide gulf in their social standing, they weren’t so different after all. Both of them wore masks to hide deep inner pain. And both were desperately searching for something to ease that pain.

Weaving around a Chinaman selling fish, Hayden shifted his thoughts to the immigration officer, Mr. Santos. A safer topic. If he waited until tomorrow to talk to the snake, he’d have to find a way to delay Magnolia from seeking passage on her ship. Besides, it had been awhile since he’d attended a party. He smiled. But how to sneak into the lavish affair without notice? And where to find some decent attire?

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he missed the turn and headed down a narrow avenue. Not until the clamor of voices, shouts of vendors, and bray of donkeys faded did he realize he was going in the wrong direction. Heat spiraled from the tiled roofs of houses lining the dirt road. He halted, spun around, and headed back, passing a group of abandoned buildings and a church that was no more than a mud hut with a raised tin roof and a brass crucifix affixed above the front door. The words “Igreja” were hand written on a sign tacked to the wall.

Wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, Hayden hurried past when the front door swung open and a thin man wearing a black priest’s robe started toward Hayden. Ignoring him, Hayden continued walking. The last thing he needed was some castigating sermon. Yet, before he took two steps, the man touched his arm and spun him around.

“Portuguese?”

“Sorry.” Hayden shook his head and continued onward.

“English then?” The priest followed him, a silly smile on his angular mouth.

“What can I do for you?” Hayden sighed and faced the man. An odd looking man for a priest. His slanted eyes, along with a long gray braid running down the back of his robe gave him a Far Eastern appearance. Yet his skin was brown, his body more reed-like than muscular.

The priest grew somber, his dark eyes studying Hayden as if searching for something. “You come from jungle, right? You part of colony from America, right?”

“Yes.” Hayden’s annoyance grew. All good guesses based on his appearance and accent. “I have no money, sir.” He started walking again.

The man grabbed Hayden’s arm. “Beware. Evil. Much evil there. Many men die. Many men disappear.”

“What are you talking about?” Hayden wanted to call the man an old fool and walk away, but one didn’t say that to a priest, even a crazy one. Sure, Hayden was probably going to hell—if there
was
such a place—but there was no sense in adding insulting a man of God to his list of crimes. But perhaps…“Do you know a man named Owen Godard?” Hayden spoke the alias his father had used on his journey to Brazil.

The priest shook his head and tightened his grip on Hayden’s arm. “Many disappear.”

“Did Mr. Godard disappear?”

“I do not know this man.”

“Then who disappeared?”

“Other colonists like you. And men from Rio. Even priests who go to fight.”

“Fight?” Hayden glanced down the street, anxious to leave.

“Fight the evil. From the
lagos incendito
.” He folded his lips together and studied the ground as if expecting it to explode beneath his feet. Then he gripped Hayden’s arm even tighter, his eyes flashing. “Fire lake beneath temple.”

Hayden didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for the deranged man. Still, he hadn’t time for this. He gently removed the man’s boney fingers. “Fire lake, eh? Thank you for the warning. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and felt the claw-like grip on his arm once again.

“No. You listen. Much evil. Men not survive. Some tell of invisible beasts. See many visions. Some go mad.”

Visions. Now the man had his attention. “How do you know about the visions? Where do they come from?”

“The beasts. They must be defeated.”

“Beasts? Like wolves and jaguars?”

“No.” He gripped Hayden’s other arm, swerving him to face him. “Not natural. Not human. Only God can protect.”

God again. How could a God who couldn’t protect an orphan on the streets of Charleston possibly save them from these beasts?—if they even existed. No doubt the priest had seen some visions of his own.

Hayden placated him with a smile and a pat on his arm. “I promise to be careful.” Tearing from his grip, Hayden stormed ahead.
I promise to not come down this street again!

This time the man didn’t follow him. But his authoritative voice did.

“Only one way to defeat. Only one way. You must go back. You are one of six. Consult the book. Only the six can defeat the evil.”