Back waters, p.1
Back Waters, page 1

© 2022 by Eric Chance Stone
Published by Lost and Found Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN: 978-1-7341626-8-4
Second Edition
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Chapter One
The beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor machine faded in the background as Rick tried to hear the voices outside his door in room 332 at the Hospital e Maternidade Cataratas. It was futile, as they were speaking Portuguese. He had lost track of how long he had been inside recovering. Daily visits from Rick’s girlfriend Jules and his best friend Possum helped with the monotony, and occasionally, Possum would sneak Rick’s cockatoo, Chief in under his shirt for a quick snuggle.
Rick’s kayak had gone over one of the highest waterfalls in the world, and somehow, he’d survived. It was partly a miracle, but mostly because Jules had found him and resuscitated him. Wearing a shoulder brace, a full leg cast, and wrapped up like a mummy, he couldn’t get around much and was tired of being in the hospital bed. It hurt to breathe due to his punctured lung, and his clavicle had poked through the skin when he hit the sharp rocks at the bottom of the waterfall.
The odds were against Jules finding him, yet she had, alive and in one piece. She had never given up; her love and commitment to him had given her the strength to persevere. She would’ve slept in the hospital room in a chair next to his bed if he’d let her, but he always insisted she get her rest at the nearby hotel, where Gary had booked two rooms for her and Possum. Gary was one of Rick’s closest friends from back in high school. He won Powerball a couple years back and loved to help Rick finance his adventures and treasure hunts. He had flown back to Brazil to prove to the Yanomami that Rick and the crew had indeed recovered the Sacred Jewel of Orinoco and would be transporting it to the Smithsonian Institution to aid the tribe in their fight against the building of a dam that would destroy their homeland. The Yanomami had originally believed that the Kayapo stole the jewel, and they’d intended to commit genocide against the smaller tribe, but Rick and his crew had recovered the jewel from the late Nate Armstrong, who had acquired it in a double cross from the now also late Gina Russo.
Gina had created an escrow account in the bank of Brazil, into which she had deposited the funds from both the Smithsonian and the Museum of Natural History in New York. Both museums believed they would be the sole keepers of the stone because of Gina’s scam. Gina had originally been a part of Rick’s crew and a valuable asset to the Yanomami’s effort, but greed had turned her and she’d had every intention of keeping all the museum money for herself and also selling the jewel to Armstrong. Armstrong was a snake, though, and Gina got bit—actually, shot through the eye on the deck of his yacht, minutes before he accidentally blew it up and killed himself and the entire crew.
Now Gary’s plan was to take Davi Kopenawa, the leader of the Yanomami, to the States and convince both museums to share the jewel in dual exhibits biannually. It was the most valuable star sapphire in the world and worth well over four hundred million dollars. If Davi would agree to present the jewel in person, Gary was sure each museum would agree to the terms of two million each to continue the tribe’s fight. The Museum of Natural History had already paid one million and the Smithsonian had paid two. If he could convince the famous New York museum to match it, the deal would be a win-win for everyone, especially the Yanomami.
Rick heard a familiar voice outside his door.
“Quanto tempo mais ele tem que ficar?”
It was Jules. She had been honing up on her Portuguese and helping Rick the entire time with the doctors and nurses. The door slowly opened, and Jules peeked in.
“Hola, mi amor,” she said.
“Hey, baby, how are you?” replied Rick.
“I’m good. I just spoke to the doctor and he said you should be able to go home soon. Normally, you would’ve only been in here for five to seven days then home to recuperate. But whatever punctured your lung caused an infection. You had a pneumothorax, which is basically a fancy word for a collapsed lung, and they were able to reinflate it with a tube, but the infection caused problems and they had to go back in and clean the wound. That’s what caused the setback. He thinks you can get out of here in a few days, though. Unless you are still enjoying the pampering.” She smirked at him.
“Haha, no! I want out of here. You can pamper me poolside. I’m not really up to flying all the way back to Destin, but I think a few weeks back in Rio will be good for my mental and physical well-being.”
“I spoke with Gary this morning, and he told me to just let him know what you need and he’s got you covered. He’s in Brazil meeting with Davi Kopenawa, and he thinks they both are flying to DC tomorrow. A truce has been called with the Kayapo and there is peace amongst the tribes. You did a good thing, Rick, rescuing the sacred jewel.”
“I did? We did. It was a team effort.”
“I guess that’s true. Do you need anything? I need to go back to the hotel and make arrangements for our resort in Rio. Do you want to stay at the same one as before?”
“I’m good here, Jules. The food isn’t half bad. Maybe you can sneak me in a beer or two when you come back? And how about we stay at the Copacabana Palace instead this time? The spa there is world class and every muscle in my body is sore. Even though I’m in a cast, I think they can find some spots to massage on me, haha.”
“Okay, I’ll head back to the hotel and book our rooms. Possum said he’s coming by later and needs to discuss something with you. He wants us all here, so I’ll come back with him.”
Jules kissed Rick goodbye and left. Even seeing her for just a few minutes always brightened up his day. A nurse came in and took his vitals, and another man came in and set his lunch on the tray by the bed. He slowly ate, daydreaming of being outside in the sun by the pool with Jules.
After lunch, he drifted off to sleep with the TV on, causing him to dream about being on a talk show. He was awakened a few hours later by a doctor, who spoke fairly good English.
“Mr. Waters, how are you feeling?”
“I’m pretty good. I’m sore all over and it hurts to breathe deeply, but I’d say overall I’m better.”
“Well, that’s good. I have some good news for you. Your blood work is almost back to normal, so it looks like we’ve got that lung infection under control. I think you can go home in a few days.”
“How long have I been here? I lost count.”
“Let me see…”
The rounds doctor looked tired. He had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. After a yawn, he opened a chart and scrolled down with his fingers.
“You have been here twenty-two days, Mr. Waters.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?”
“Yes, you could’ve left sooner, but whatever poked your lung caused a nasty infection. I’m guessing it was a branch or something with a lot of algae on it. But we’ve got it taken care of now and you are on your way to a full recovery. You need about three to four more weeks in the leg cast and clavicle brace, but your X-rays look good and the bones are healing properly. Are you going to be returning to Florida?”
“Not right away. I’m gonna take some time to recover in Rio. It’ll be good for me.”
“I agree. A little vitamin D can do wonders.”
The doctor patted Rick on his good leg and stepped out of the room.
The next few days dragged on and time seemed to stand still. Boredom was setting in for Rick. His recovery would happen, but it couldn’t get here fast enough for Rick’s taste. Jules had brought him a few fishing magazines to give him something to read, but they were all in Portuguese. He still enjoyed looking at them, though, and couldn’t wait to get a line wet back in Destin once he was fully recovered. Johnie had been running the charters with a hired captain the entire time, keeping his boat Nine-Tenths busy and in good standing at the Destin HarborWalk Marina. Johnie called every few days to update Rick on the charters and check on him. He was a great first mate, and Rick had no idea what he’d do without him.
His favorite two nurses checked on him almost hourly, and one helped him get in and out of bed a few times to avoid atrophy. Both ladies were super sweet. They also spoke a bit of broken English, so Rick had gotten to know them quite well during his stay in room 332. The youngest nurse was named Áurea, which meant “woman of gold.” She had worked her way through nursing school while caring for her aging parents and two siblings who both had Down syndrome. She had gotten her BA at the University of the State of Paraná near home and done her undergraduate nursing studies in Miami, where she worked full time as a waitress and sent most of the money home to help her family. Even with a nursing degree, she didn’t earn much, and most of it went to support her family members. She’d moved back in with them once she returned home.
The other nurse’s name was Cássia, which meant “the fragrant one.” Her story was a lot different. She told Rick that when she was young, she’d survived the house fire that killed her mother and both of her brothers, and left a bad reminder of the incident on the right side of her face and body. She was drawn to nursing because of the love and care given to her during her recovery. Her father also eventually died from the burns he had received, and she was left alone at the age of ten to fend for herself. She was abused as a child by several uncles and eventually ran away and lived on the street. She overcame many obstacles but never gave up her dream of becoming a nurse. She landed a job as a cleaning tech in the hospital and saved all her money while living on a friend’s couch. Eventually, she was upgraded to an intern. She learned to use a computer from her friend and made it her full-time job to apply for a grant for nursing school. It took her three years, and during that time, she took online courses that would help toward her degree. She eventually received her grant and graduated with honors from the University of São Paulo. She had decided to come back to the very hospital that gave her a chance in the first place. She knew she could make more money at a larger facility in Rio, but she wanted to give back for all that she had received from the little hospital that first took a chance on her.
A few more days had passed, and Rick felt like the hospital room was closing in on him. The sun was starting to set, and long, angled lines ran across the wall from the window blinds. He was bored beyond belief and ready to leave. Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked Jules pushing a wheelchair with a man wrapped in gauze who looked like a burn victim or a mummy. She was wearing a nurse’s uniform, and had her hair in a ponytail and an N95 mask on her face.
“What the fuck?” said Rick.
“We have to get out of here,” said the gauze-faced man.
Rick knew the voice instantly. It was Possum. He stood up, unwrapped the gauze, and shoved the wheelchair behind the curtain in the shower.
“Listen up. Remember that briefcase I told you I found?”
“You mean after I fell down the falls?”
“Yes, exactly. When I opened it, I almost fainted. It was the money Armstrong had on the yacht to buy the jewel. I counted it. It’s five million dollars. It survived the explosion and was floating intact near the bank where Jules and I were searching for you.”
“It’s real? Five big ones?”
“Totally real. The problem is that Armstrong got it from a local loan shark named Dale Clemens who relocated here from Kentucky. He used to run a bookie outfit in Louisville and was involved in a Ponzi scheme that got him in the crosshairs of the FBI. He’s pretty untouchable down here, hangs out with some heavy hitters and is deep in the cocaine trade now. Somehow, he found out we were involved in the deal with Armstrong and he wants his money. Word on the street is, if he can’t get paid, he’ll get even.”
“What’s the plan?” asked Rick.
“Visiting hours are over at 9:00 p.m., in about an hour and a half. Jules grabbed some scrubs from the laundry and they are in that duffel there along with the money at the bottom of the bag. She’s gonna switch back into street clothes now and meet us at the airport with Chief. Gary has arranged a charter flight with a fake flight plan and manifest bound for Miami. We will actually be getting off in Rio, though. I’ll make sure that Clemens gets his hands on the flight plan. He wouldn’t dare set foot back in the States. The FBI will snatch him up faster than you can say, ‘Jack Robinson.’ Ever since Gary returned stateside with the jewel, he’s been under a lot scrutiny and his jet was searched extensively. There’s no way we can bring this cash back into the States without being caught, but he says he has a plan and it involves Chief. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know yet. We’ll rendezvous with Gary in Rio soon and he’ll explain the whole thing.”
“So, we are keeping the five million dollars?” asked Rick.
“Sort of. It’s a long story and it’s best if we go over it all in Rio. I’m afraid some old associates of Clemens’s are on the inside and may strike tonight.”
Jules came over beside the bed and gave Rick a huge but soft hug and whispered that everything would be okay. She slowly cracked open the door and stepped out. Possum took the duffel and stepped into the bathroom to hide. Rick knew the nurse would make one more round before visiting hours were over. There was a shift change at 10:00 p.m. They needed to get out during that time, as lots of new people would be coming and going. Every time Rick heard steps in the hallway, he tensed up.
A shadow fell across his doorway, and Rick really started to sweat. “Knock, knock,” said the figure before stepping into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing a nurse with a stethoscope rather than a man with a pistol. He’d never dreamed he might be the target of an assassin for money he didn’t even know he had. The irony was palpable.
At 9:53 p.m., Possum reappeared from the bathroom shower. He had scrubs on now and helped Rick sit up in bed. He slowly wrapped the gauze around Rick’s face, only exposing his eyes and mouth. The hospital bill had been paid in full by Gary, so Rick didn’t feel guilty about sneaking out. He only wished he could thank the doctor and nurses one more time.
“Can we leave a little something-something for the doctor and nurses?” he asked.
“Yeah, but let’s hurry.”
Rick grabbed some stationery and envelopes from the desk beside his bed. He put a stack of ten thousand dollars in each of three envelopes and addressed them to the doc and the two nurses who’d taken such great care of him. He knew that kind of money could be life-changing for those kind souls.
Possum helped Rick into the wheelchair with the N95 mask over his own mouth, then placed the duffel bag in Rick’s lap and wheeled him toward the door. As he walked down the hall and pushed Rick, a scurry of activity was happening near the nurses’ stations. The shift change was underway. Two scruffy men in scrubs walked past Rick and Possum and didn’t give them a glance. As Possum turned the corner, he looked back to see one man standing outside of Rick’s door as the other one entered the room.
Pew-pew-pew came from the room—the unmistakable sound of a gun being shot with a silencer. No one else seemed to hear it in all the commotion. Possum had piled up the pillows in the bed to make it look as if someone was asleep under the covers. He pushed Rick faster toward the front door and onto the curb. A black sedan was waiting, and Possum helped Rick inside. They were gone in less than thirty seconds.
“Depressa, depressa!” said Possum to the driver, who sped up toward the airport. He zigged and zagged out of traffic and pulled into the executive side, right next to an Embraer Legacy 500 mid-size jet. The door was open, and Jules stood in the entryway, waving for them to hurry. Rick hobbled as best he could with his arm around Possum for balance. They all boarded, and the flight crew shut the door. They immediately taxied for the number three runway. The pilot’s voice came through the overhead speaker.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Clay, your pilot. Jamey, our flight attendant, will be in the cabin for your service today. We will be heading directly to Caracas to refuel then on to Miami. The flight will take approximately ten hours and nineteen minutes plus the fuel stop. Please take your seat, buckle up, and enjoy your flight.”
Within minutes, they were off the ground. Rick, Possum, and Jules all breathed a sigh of relief. Chief munched on a grape, indifferent to all the excitement. It would hopefully be the last time they’d have to deal with Clemens or his gang.
Gary had paid the pilot to drop them all off in Rio then continue on to Miami as per the flight plan. It was highly illegal to create a fake manifest, but it was the only way to throw off Clemens and his team, who would never set foot on US soil. The lights of Rio appeared, and the beautiful, brightly lit statue of Christ the Redeemer stood above the city with open arms, making Rick feel safe and loved. He felt a strong connection with the statue now and knew that a stronger power, along with Jules’s love, had saved his life. He was at peace.
Chapter Two
The plane touched down smoothly and quickly refueled, bound for Miami. Gary had arranged another car for them, and they all piled in, looking forward to checking in at the Copacabana Palace. As usual, Gary had gone all out and booked two adjacent penthouse suites on the top floor. One for Jules and Rick, and one for Possum. Each suite was over a thousand square feet and boasted an expansive veranda and a private pool on the roof. All amenities were included. They came with a catered breakfast, a full wet bar, and twenty-four-hour butler service.
The first thing Rick did after they checked in was hobble to the wet bar. He scoured through the bottles and found a fifteen-year-old rum from Colombia called Ron Viejo de Caldas, which he’d never heard of. He poured two glasses over single cubes of ice and slid one toward Jules. She took a sip and shrugged, opting for a bottle of aguardiente instead, and poured the other rum into Rick’s glass as they both laughed.
