Chapter Ten Icana
It was a good thing that John had visited this mission before, because I found myself flying above wispy cloud that lay over the mission.
The airstrip is to the north. It's on high ground."
The strip was a welcome sight. We landed without difficulty and I allowed myself to relax for the first time since I had enjoyed such an awful scare on the approach into Iquitos. Unacara was nothing like our mission. It was a trailer town set in savanna. There was a sense of more energy here. The children were noisier, more spirited. There was also a sense of optimism as if this place really had a chance to make it. I hated to see it destroyed. It gave me mixed feelings but then again the bounty of the cocaine dealers was not the only ace in the hole that they possessed.
It was much more modern. John and I each had our own room in an air-conditioned trailer with all the mod cons. There was a small lounge down the hall with a decent sized tv set and a huge video library. A wide selection of books graced the opposite wall. I made a cup of tea and tried to relax. It had been an eventful day. I felt as if I flown through a time warp. It wasn't the journey from Ecuador to the this outpost of Brazilian optimism that constituted my feelings of displacement but the journey in my head which had been fraught with all sorts of wild conjectures, fears and irrational feelings of confidence and energy. I recognized the symptoms. John Espadu swam into my consciousness and I understood. Frank faded into the background. I was aware of his presence but it was faint and not intrusive.
Something else overshadowed my thoughts. I never thought I would experience such tears of gratitude. I was disconcerted by my ambivalent feelings. When I was old and gray and someone mentioned the dreaded headhunters of the upper reaches of the Amazon, I would smile and remember Jamas. Never would I forget him.