“Hello there, little one,” I whispered, crouching down slowly beside it.
The bird chirped as it hopped around. I reached out calmly, my hand inches from it, curious if it would come near. At that moment, it tilted its head and looked up at me.
“Aren’t you an adorable speckled fellow.” I smiled. It took a tiny hop toward me and pecked at my hand.
“Aww, you must be looking for food. Some fruit, maybe?” Turning my head, I spotted some melon slices in the corner. “Oh good, David remembered to leave food out today.”
I slowly walked over to the fruit, hoping the little bird would follow me. Sure enough, it soared right over my head, landing and then perching by the edge of the deck. I watched as it pecked at the melon for a few minutes. With a full belly, the bird looked up at me as if to say thanks and flew away.
I hung out on the deck for a while, not wanting to go back inside. I spent many days being cooped up in that house and felt like a prisoner at times. David was gone a lot; he was always leaving me alone. Well, not all alone; I have Max. And I don't know what I would have done without him.
Other than the humidity, it was a gorgeous day. The sun peeked through the trees and a gentle breeze swayed the leaves. I had decided to try the new hammock David had bought. After our vacation at The Green Tree House, it was all he ever talked about.
When we spotted one on a shopping trip to town, his eyes lit up. As soon as we returned home, he immediately wanted to tie it between two trees but instead, I suggested we buy a stand for it. Of course, there wasn’t a store that sold hammock stands, so David the handyman built one.
Sinking into the thick woven fabric, I swayed side to side until I found my balance. I lay perfectly still, losing myself in the songs of the jungle—the trilling of the birds, the low buzzing of insects, and the squawking somewhere off in the distance.
As I closed my eyes, I heard a disturbing grunting sound. I froze, my hands gripping the hammock tight on both sides as a loud scream echoed through the air. Scrambling, I tipped over in the hammock and fell flat on my face. Then a second scream, louder with a screeching yelp.
I sat back on the deck, pulling my knees to my chest. There was a low growling and then a long string of howling. Max? No! Max! My heart dropped to my stomach.
I jumped up and took off sprinting as fast as I could through the house to the front door, swinging it open. Another scream flooded my ears—a guttural, blood-curdling scream.
30
David
I make my way up the walkway carrying a statue I bought, trying to decide where to put it. As I get closer to the house, I glance over and see Val sitting by the front door. Max is there lying beside her. She's stroking his fur with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. I immediately set the statue on the ground and rush to her side.
“Val, what's going on? Are you okay? Is Max okay?” My eyes dart to her face, to Max, and then back to her.
“Yes, thank goodness. I thought something happened to him, something terrible,” her voice raw. Her face is streaked with tears and she’s all stuffed up.
“What do you mean something terrible? What the—?”
“Oh, David, I heard this horrible screaming.” Her eyes widen. “I have no idea where or who it was coming from. I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“Can you describe it? What did it sound like?”
“It was so weird and scary. Like a growling and grunting and then a hollering… all at the same time.”
"Sounds like the howlers.”
“Howlers?”
“Yes, the howler monkeys. You just described them to a T.”
“Whatever they were, they were beyond frightening.” Her shoulders twitch.
“My ex-wife was terrified of… ” I catch myself starting to say. Val gazes up at me but I shake my head. “Never mind,” I stop myself and remain silent.
Max stands up, interrupting us, and starts licking her tears.
I watch as he kisses her face. I can’t remember the last time we kissed, Val and I, not the dog. I’ve been so busy with the house and all. She was so upset when I missed our dinner the other night. But what can I say, the day got away from me. She must realize things are slower here and don’t move as quickly as they do in the states. Work matters take longer, sometimes weeks or even months to complete. But no excuses. We definitely need to spend more time together.
I walk back over to the statue and pick it up to show Val.
“What do you think?” I ask, cradling it. “Do you like it?”
“What is it? A bird?”
I turn it around to show her the front. “No, it’s an angel.”
She sits there staring, first at the statue and then at me, not saying a word. She’s deep in thought and I wonder what she’s thinking.
We go inside and I pull a bottle of wine off the rack I built. Opening it, I take two glasses from the cabinet and pour the wine, handing a glass to Val.
“Thanks,” she says. I'll start dinner. “Is spaghetti okay?”
“Sure.” Reaching for the wine, I study the dark liquid as it swirls in the glass. A vision flashes before my eyes and I shut them tight, forcing the scene away—that horrific, bloody, tragic scene. One I hope and pray I never see again.
I inhale deeply and then take a sip. I need to put my old life behind me and focus on the new one I’ve created. Out with the old and in with the new, I tell myself. I take another breath and repeat the
