As usual, Josh had carefully planned the release. He arrived at Walnut Hill on the appointed day with a duffel bag filled with new and neatly pressed J. Crew shorts and shirts for the trip south. He had the passport and the visa, plenty of cash, lots of directions and tickets, a game plan. Even a first-aid kit.
Nate never had the chance to be anxious. He said good-bye to a few members of the staff, but most were busy elsewhere because they avoided departures. He walked proudly through the front door after 140 days of wonderful sobriety; clean, tanned, fit, down 17 pounds to 174, a weight he hadn't known in twenty years.
Josh drove, and for the first five minutes nothing was said. The snow blanketed the pastures, but thinned quickly as they left the Blue Ridge. It was December 22. At a very low volume, the radio played carols.
"Could you turn that off?" Nate finally said.
"What?"
"The radio."
Josh punched a button, and the music he hadn't heard disappeared.
"How do you feel?" Josh asked.
"Could you pull over at the nearest quick shop?"
"Sure. Why?"
"I'd like to get a six-pack."
"Very funny."
"I'd kill for a tall Coca-Cola."
They bought soft drinks and peanuts at a country store. The lady at the cash register said a cheery "Merry Christmas," and Nate could not respond. Back in the car, Josh headed for Dulles, two hours away.
"Your flight goes to Sao Paulo, where you'll lay over three hours before catching one to a city called Campo Grande."
"Do these people speak English?"
"No. They're Brazilian. They speak Portuguese."
"Of course they do."
"But you'll find English at the airport."
"How big is Campo Grande?"
"Half a million, but it's not your destination. From there, you'll catch a commuter flight to a place called Corumba. The towns get smaller."
"And so do the airplanes."
"Yes, same as here."
"For some reason, the idea of a Brazilian commuter flight is not appealing. Help me here, Josh. I'm nervous."
"Either that or a six-hour bus ride."
"Keep talking."
"In Corumba, you'll meet. a lawyer named Valdir Ruiz. He speaks English."
"Have you talked to him?"
"Yes."
"Could you understand him?"
"Yes, for the most part. A very nice man. Works for about fifty bucks an hour, if you can believe that."
"How big is Corumba?"
"Ninety thousand."
"So they'll have food and water, and a place to sleep."
"Yes, Nate, you'll have a room. That's more than you can say for here."
"Ouch."
"Sorry. Do you want to back out?"
"Yes, but I'm not going to. My goal at this point is to flee this country before I hear 'Jingle Bells' again. I'd sleep in a ditch for the next two weeks to avoid 'Frosty the Snowman.'"
"Forget the ditch. It's a nice hotel."
"What am I supposed to do with Valdir?"
"He's looking for a guide to take you into the Pantanal."
"How? Plane? Helicopter?"
"Boat, probably. As I understand the area, it's nothing but swamps and rivers."
"And snakes, alligators, piranhas."
"What a little coward you are. I thought you wanted to go."
"I do. Drive faster."
"Relax." Josh pointed to a briefcase behind the passenger's seat. "Open that," he said. "It's your carry-on bag."
Nate pulled and grunted. "It weighs a ton. What's in here?"
"Good stuff."
It was made of brown leather, new but built to look well used, and large enough to hold a small legal library. Nate sat it on his knees and popped it open. "Toys," he said.
"That tiny gray instrument there is the latest high-tech digital phone," Josh said, proud of the things he'd collected. "Valdir will have local service for you when you get to Corumba."
"So they have phones in Brazil."
"Lots of them. In fact, telecommunications are booming down there. Everybody has a cell phone."
"Those poor people. What's this?"
"A computer."
"What the hell for?"
"It's the latest thing. Look how small."
"I can't even read the keyboard."
"You can hook it to the phone and actually get your e-mail."
"Wow. And I'm supposed to do this in the middle of a swamp with snakes and alligators watching?"
"It's up to you."
"Josh, I don't even use e-mail at the office."
"It's not for you, It's for me. I want to keep up with you. When you find her, I want to know immediately."
"What's this?"
"The best toy in the box. It's a satellite phone. You can use it anywhere on the face of the earth. Keep the batteries charged, and you can always find me."
"You just said they had a great phone system."
"Not in the Pantanal. It's a hundred thousand square miles of wetlands, with no towns and very few people. That SatFone will be your only means of communication once you leave Corumba."
Nate opened the hard plastic case and examined the glossy little phone. "How much did this cost you?" he asked.
"Me, not a dime."
"Okay, how much did it cost the Phelan estate?"
"Forty - four hundred bucks. Worth every penny of it."
"Do my Indians have electricity?" Nate was flipping through the owner's manual.
"Of course not."
"Then how am I supposed to keep the batteries charged?"
"There's an extra battery. You'll think of something."
"So much for a quiet getaway."
"It's going to be very quiet. You'll thank me for the toys when you get there."
"Can I thank you now?"
"No."
"Thanks, Josh. For everything."
"Don't mention it."
IN THE CROWDED TERMINAL, at a small table across from a busy bar, they sipped weak espresso and read newspapers. Josh was very conscious of the bar; Nate didn't seem to be. The neon Heineken logo was hard to miss.
A tired and skinny Santa Claus ambled by, looking for children to take cheap gifts from his bag. Elvis sang "Blue Christmas" from a jukebox in the bar. The foot traffic was thick, the noise unnerving, everyone flying home for the holidays.
"Are you okay?" Josh asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. Why don't you leave? I'm sure you have better things to do."
"I'll stay."
"Look, Josh, I'm fine. If you think I'm waiting for you to leave so I can dash over there to the bar and guzzle vodka, you're wrong. I have no desire for booze. I'm clean, and very proud of it."
Josh looked a bit sheepish, primarily because Nate had read his mind. Nate's binges were legendary. If he cracked, there wasn't enough booze in the airport to satisfy him. "I'm not worried about that," he said, lying.
"Then go. I'm a big boy."
They said good-bye at the gate, a warm embrace and promises to call almost on the hour. Nate was anxious to settle into his nest in first class. Josh had a thousand things to do at the office.
Two small, secret precautionary steps had been taken by Josh. First, adjacent seats had been booked for the flight. Nate would have the window; the aisle would remain vacant. No sense having some thirsty executive sitting next to Nate, swilling Scotch and wine. The seats cost over seven thousand dollars each for the round trip, but money was of no concern.