Ruthless River: Love and Survival by Raft on the Amazon's Relentless Madre De Dios by Holly Fitzgerald

Author:Holly Fitzgerald [Fitzgerald, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Autobiography, Biography, Personal Memoirs, Special Interest, Travel
ISBN: 9780525432784
Google: 4WnEDgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0525432779
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2017-05-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Little Balsa

Waves smashed over the little balsa, slapping our thighs and stomachs.

“God Almighty!” Fitz yelled.

“We can’t go back! Not after all this!” My hands locked onto the branch like gnarled, swollen fungi. Letting go meant being swept back to the Pink Palace, where slow death awaited us. My arms throbbed; my fingers began to give way. Anticipating the sweet relief of surrender bade me let go.

My parents would never know what had happened to us. I imagined my mother’s beautiful brown eyes, watering and red with grief, my dad’s cheerful blue eyes, puffy behind his glasses. I strained to grab the ends of the bough. I had to hold on, for them.

Scenes of ordinary life flashed through my mind: my dad calling from the ladder for nails to complete the octagonal playhouse (that was never used as a playhouse because my sister and I had grown up); my mom singing cowboy songs on family car trips when the radio stations didn’t come in; that last intimate weekend with our friends and family at the lake before we left on this trip—all of us laughing, playing hearts, talking of who was doing what and going where.

“We can’t give up!” I screamed over the wind. But desire counted for nothing. We didn’t have the power to save ourselves. Clutching the branch, I pressed my eyes against my upper arm, trying to wipe away the tears.

My fingers slipped, my hands releasing against my will. I was thrust into a free fall.

Fitz also let go.

We clenched the little raft with our arms and legs as it took off downriver, unsteady as a new colt. Hurtling into the relentless current, it wouldn’t stop spinning. Rain and wind howled, as if everything in the universe was ganging up on us. I heard a deep moaning inside me as we whirled down the channel: You’ll never get out. You should never have come. We flew by all the landmarks we’d fought so hard to pass: the small waterfall, the logjams, the dead tree, the regal reeds.

I couldn’t swallow or catch my breath. My lungs seemed filled with stones. Succumbing to the force of the water, I couldn’t believe that just a few days ago I’d embraced the joy of the ride, thrilled by the fun of the adventure. Now the river was whisking us back to hell. My mind groped wildly for something solid to cling to. Fitz. He was my stability. “I’m sorry, Fitz,” I yelled, desperate for him to understand that I had never wanted this.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I was so insistent that we take the raft.” I’d wanted to get out of Puerto Maldonado so much that I couldn’t see the danger. My face felt contorted by the rain and my furious tears.

“For God’s sake, Holly, we had to get out of there.”

“I talked you into it,” I choked.

“You didn’t.”

I felt reassured to hear Fitz’s gruff voice, letting me know I shouldn’t condemn myself. We were in this together.

The stench of stale mud and swamp water greeted us as we neared the end of the channel.

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