“So Rio—a city of millions. You found him mainly through other backpackers?” Robert asked.
Henley nodded. “His was an unusual case. He’d cleaned out his bank accounts, as you know. And I couldn’t trace his movement by plane because he got himself on a boat going over. When I tried Rio, though, I immediately believed that you had to be right—I found a story in a student journal about an American drifter wearing army fatigues. The girl who wrote it had been there studying post-traumatic stress disorder and at some point, River had talked to her. Even when I knew I was on the right track, it was tough to find River. He always did all right financially because he apparently had a knack at the track. And you have to remember, he’s had some of the best survival training to be found anywhere. He knows how to blend in with the environment, slip around anything—and over any wall. I’m sure that’s all a result of his military training. When I did see him at first, I figured I had to try to learn something about why he had come and what he was feeling and thinking. His behavior could be odd—I realized I couldn’t just walk up and say, ‘Hey, let’s go home. Your family is worried sick.’ I don’t believe he remembered when I first saw him that he had a family.”
That hurt. And yet Elizabeth knew that no hurt had ever been intended for her or Robert or April. And again she thought about what River’s disappearance had done to her. What had happened to Natal and Harbor had been brutal on them all—but not totally devastating, as it had been to River.
“I’m sorry; that’s the way it is,” Henley said. “I needed a way to reach him with someone who could talk to him—who knew him in Brazil. I don’t think I could have gotten him without vio—without someone getting hurt—if it hadn’t been for a few friends he made down there.”
“We’ll need to write them—and thank them,” Elizabeth said.
April nodded. Once again, she was looking through the hallway window at her brother.
Dr. Freeman cleared his throat, “What River is suffering from is PTSD—but not just because of the war. What happened to his family … well, it’s no wonder, really. The human heart, like the human body, is fragile. It can only take so much.”
“But he will get better,” April said fervently.
Elizabeth put her arms around her daughter and held her as they all looked through the window to River’s room.
He looks good, Elizabeth told herself. He was sitting at the table they had given him, sketchpad in hand.
He looked up, smiling. Elizabeth thought that he was smiling at them. She waved.
But he didn’t seem to see her.
It was all right. He looked like he was happy. He reached out a hand across the table; it looked as if he caught something, but there was nothing there.
His smile, though, was beautiful. Soft and tender.
*
“You found me,” Natal said softly. “You will always find me.”
River’s smile deepened as he looked at his wife. “Or you will always find me.”
He heard a laugh. A sweet, delighted laugh. The kind of laugh that was like music in his ears.
Harbor sat on her mother’s lap. River reached over and squeezed her little fingers.
“Now, what’s so funny? You just love to laugh, don’t you. I’ll draw you a picture. What shall I draw? A bunny rabbit?”
“Bunny!” Harbor echoed.
“Now,” Natal said, trying very hard to sound stern. “You two may play with your art—which is wonderful—but, not too late. It’s nearly bedtime. And, of course, I will be making pancakes in the morning, so that is worth going to bed on time, right?”
“Yes, Mommy!” Harbor said, and giggled. She and River knew, of course, that Natal would make them pancakes in the morning, no longer how long they drew! But, it was getting late, and they were both sleepy anyway. They gave each other their secret look, and then River looked back at Natal.
Natal smiled, and something inside River caused a little trembling sensation that raced through the length of him and he had to try hard then to tear his gaze away from her to look at his pad.
“We will always find each other,” Natal said.
“Always,” River agreed.
*
Later that night, with Harbor curled beside him and Natal dozing in the big chair by the window, River watched television. The news came on.
They were showing Brazil. He saw the majestic mountains surrounding Rio—with the Christ the Redeemer statue’s open and outstretched arms.
He glanced at his sleeping family and turned the volume up slightly.
“This is a special report from Brazil,” an anchor announced. The screen switched to a shot of Rio, and the newscaster’s voice continued as different scenes of the city—and Reed Amato—were shown.
“The trial of Brazilian drug lord Reed Amato has begun. Amato is no longer out on bail. He has been taken into custody, pending a new arraignment. Prosecutors have informed the press that further charges will be added in the morning as Amato will also be charged for murder in the case of Frederico Damani, whose decomposing body was found in a river near Amato’s house. Physical evidence directly links Amato to the case, according to prosecutors. The city of Rio anxiously awaits the trial as it will be telecast daily; we understand that many in South America, the Caribbean, and North America will be equally interested. Amato is also suspected of owning acres of land dedicated to the production of illegal drugs that have flooded the continents. While Mr. Amato made many donations to the city of Rio, it’s alleged that he also threatened his workers, bribed many officials, and created an atmosphere of absolute fear that demanded complete loyalty while he engaged in his criminal pursuits.”
River let out a breath. They’d really gotten him. Reed Amato would spend the rest of his life behind bars.
“And now over to Maria Coppella, on the streets of Rio, for a very different story,” the anchor announced.
The scene switched.
“Thank you, Tom.” A woman stood on the street, outside one of the downtown buildings of Rio. “While we’re talking about Brazil, we can turn to some happier news. A local Brazilian man, Thiago Norway—known as just Theo around the city and the track—has hit a big payday. Mr. Thiago Norway is the sole winner of a lottery ticket that came in with a ten-million-dollar payoff. We are pleased to offer our congratulations to Mr. Norway.”
River stared at the television.
Could this be true?
Yes—there was Theo near the reporter in a square before a large skyscraper. All kinds of people were surrounding him, laughing, shaking his hand, and congratulating him.
River strained to see, sitting up higher.
“Yes,” he said softly.
Among the people surrounding Theo was Beluga. While others kept trying to reach Theo and pat him on the shoulder, Theo grabbed Beluga and gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. Beluga moved away, laughing—and wiping his cheek.
Convict was there, at Beluga’s side, barking with excitement.
“Way to go, Theo,” River said softly, watching his friends.