Fiction Story – ‘How to Paint Paradise: A Magical Amazon Story’ (Part Two)

Giant Victoria Regia water lillies

The conclusion to our guest contributor, Thais Angelica Tavares Lopes’ two-part fiction story about a young painter’s colorful excursion into the Amazon rain forest.

With the sun slowly climbing into the horizon, I took out my painting set and went out to find George. I had this nagging feeling — an urge, if you will — to see him and ask if I could perhaps try to paint Dragon. I searched the camp, asking this one and that one for the Indian boy, but all of the Portuguese settlers hadn’t seen him since supper the previous evening. Finally, I went up to Tarius and personally asked him if he knew where George had gone.

“Ah, yes,” he replied. “I had asked him to run an errand for me. He won’t be back for some time. Why, what do you need him for?”

“I wished to paint his macaw. He’s so gorgeous, I just have to paint him.”

“You’ll have to wait, then, though it’s good that you have your paints with you. Do you mind tagging along with the botanist and sketching the different plants around the camp until George comes back?”

“No,” I sighed. “I don’t mind. Where is he?” But in truth I did mind, very much so.

“Over there, in that brown tent near the large capirona tree. You’ll find him delved deep into the pages of his classification books.”

Amazonian capirona tree

I left him for the botanist, a bespectacled red-haired man about ten years older than myself. We worked together all that day making surprisingly pleasant conversation about this species of orchid or that species of rubber tree. I would sometimes mention a certain shading technique or a certain brush stroke, and so passed the day with no George.

The next day I came up to Tarius to inquire about George. He told me he had not yet returned and sent me to the botanist again. Day past day, week past week, a whole month went by in this same monotonous fashion, with no George and no Dragon. It was all right for the first day, even for the first week, but after that I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to know what was taking them so long. I marched straight up to Tarius’ tent on the thirty-first day with no regard for the hour or for Tarius’ state of mind.

“I demand to know where you sent George and why is it that he still has not yet returned.”

“Lady, what right do you have to burst into my tent while I am in the midst of an important meeting? Lars, would you be so kind as to lead her outside and keep her there until the end of the conference? Thank you.”

His heavyset second-in-command bowed and escorted me through the flap. I was flustered and furious that Tarius would treat me in this manner, so rough and coarse. I had always known him to be courteous in every situation, even during times when he was stressed. But he had never denied me anything, and to me this was truly a strange and uncomfortable experience. For the most part, I did not protest but waited patiently for him to end the meeting.

Lars stood as stiff as a statue, rigidly looking forward and paying as little attention to me as possible. Finally, after an hour’s long wait, I got my chance to ask about George’s whereabouts.

“Tarius, I beg your pardon for interrupting your duties but I simply can’t go on like this. You don’t understand my overwhelming desire to paint Dragon. I’ve drawn all of the plants in the camp at least three times over, in between painting leaves and stems. I’ve sketched the various parrots and toucans around here but none of them compare to Dragon. Another thing: where have you sent George? It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

Orange-billed Toucan

Once my complaint was made I took a long and calculated look at Tarius. Whatever he had been doing and discussing with the men in the camp had left him visibly drained.

“I don’t know if you were informed upon your arrival, but this trip you made was no peaceful vacation. The Tupi Indians are not pleased with our invasion of their territory and are trying to push us off into the dense part of the forest, away from the river that supports our very existence. I sent George back to his people to perhaps negotiate with his Chief to allow us to share the land equally. It was a risky maneuver, since the Chief seems not to trust us, nor those closely associated with us.”

“So what you are telling me is that you purposefully sent him into harm’s way? You just let him enter his angry Chief’s grasp to do whatever he likes with him? Tarius, have you no shame?”

“Shame? Lady, we are at the brink of war. Do you think a few hundred men can compare to the might of a whole Indian village?”

“But would it not have been better to go yourself and solve the problem and not send others to do the work for you?”

“What insolence is this? You were never this coarse with me.”

“Nor you with me. Now, if this is how you will be I must bid you good night and leave your presence. I had thought most highly of you, but now I think you most impertinent. Good-bye.”

I turned to leave his tent, but no sooner had my shoe touched the soil than Tarius took my wrist and swung me around.

“What does this mean? Why are you so attached to this Indian boy you only just met? What attracts you to him, his looks, his mannerisms, his bird, what? Tell me, what is it?”

“I, uh, I …”

“Speak!”

I was completely taken aback. I was astonished by Tarius’ questioning intonation, his steadfast hold of my arm, and — most terrifying of all — his cold icy-blue eyes staring intently at me, searching the very depths of my being.

“It’s nothing of the sort. You are simply being jealous of the attention I bestowed on him due to his exquisite bird. Now let me go.”

“Are you sure that that is all it is?”

“What, do you not trust me? We’ve known each other for eighteen years. I would have hoped you had more confidence in me.”

Although I feared what he would do to me I spoke truthfully and did not break from his penetrating gaze. Slowly his grip lessened and his eyes fell to the ground.

“I should have trusted you. I don’t know what made me be so harsh to you. I beg your forgiveness. If there is anything I can do to right the wrong I’ve done you, I beseech you, tell me now.”

“It must be this incredible amount of work you’ve been doing recently,” I offered. “I can see where you could have misinterpreted the time I spent with George as being for alternative reasons, though I assure you none were ever intended. As for your forgiveness, I accept it and only ask that you take me to see the Chief. Perhaps I can talk to him.”

“Yali, I don’t think you should go.”

“Oh, but don’t you see: it is the only way. They could be torturing poor George, no one else would volunteer to rescue him since he is, in a sense, one of them. Please Tarius, never have I asked you anything more important in my life than this.”

Tarius thought it over carefully, moving his lower jaw ever so slightly.

“Only if someone goes with you will I allow you to go in search of George, and the only person who knows where the Indian village is located is me. I will put Lars in charge of the camp and we will head off immediately tomorrow morning. How does that sound, love?”

“I’m speechless. You would actually come with me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, dearest. I will never forget this.”

Bright and early the next day we set out on horseback, following the edge of the Amazon River so as to not get lost. Several hours went by, followed by several days, until about a week-and-a-half later a clearing began to be visible through the thick branches of the forest.

“Here we will turn east and follow this trail. It will lead us straight into the Indian village.”

The horses were weary, but they continued on, determined to carry their masters to their destination. Throughout our travels we grew closer together, discussing our various interests anew to each other as if we had never truly known them (and ourselves) before. I would sit down to paint on our breaks, as he would talk of his various accomplishments as a captain and explorer.

Just as the trail was ending our horses began to shy away.

“What is wrong with the horses?” But as I asked I heard shrieks from above and darkness fell upon me.

What seemed to be days later, but in truth only hours, I awoke to a great big headache and the sight of Indians all around me. As I tried to regain some composure, I noticed Tarius was talking very quickly at my side. He was pale but his posture was set in a way that would intimidate any man with any sense about him. He was kneeling on the dry ground, his feet and hands were bound with coarse rope but this did not stop him from speaking. I felt the rope on my own wrists and ankles and tried to sit up rather than stay in the position that I was in, flat on my face.

Gathering of Tupi-Guarani Indians

As I sat, I heard another familiar voice, that of George. He, too, was bound with rope and seemed to be interpreting what Tarius said to the Chief of the village, but who in turn seemed to be angry and uncooperative. There seemed to be a harsh look about the Chief; his eyes shifted slowly from George to Tarius every so often, but his intense gaze never betrayed his emotions. However, his voice showed them all, harsh bitter words that stung my ears, anger permeated through every one of them. I felt afraid of him; afraid of his unintelligible words, afraid of his tall presence, and afraid of the way he seemed to treat both George and Tarius. I was compelled to speak, but did not know what to say.

Tarius was not getting across to him that we wanted to negotiate for peace and to share their territory equally, not take it away from them. George tried his best to appease both Tarius, his master, and the Chief, his lord, but he looked helpless and lost.

It was then that I spotted Dragon on his shoulder, and it appeared that Dragon also saw me, for he leapt from George’s shoulder, just as the Chief was about to strike at us, and landed on my lap. I showed him my finger and he nibbled at it but soon stopped and let me stroke him. All was very quiet; no one said a word as all of the villagers, including George and the Chief, stared at Dragon and me. Soon the spell was broken by the Chief’s words. These seemed to show amazement and a hint of confusion. George translated for us:

“My Chief asks, what spell has the young woman cast on Dragon. He is a fierce creature. How can one who knows him not have such power over him?” George smiled at me as he said this, for he knew about Dragon and me. He nodded his head so that I could say what had transpired before and how I came to be in Dragon’s favor.

Puzzled Tupi Indian Chief

So I told the story of Dragon, George, and my friendship. The Chief listened patiently and when I was done a sense of calm could be seen in his rugged countenance. He spoke briefly and George again translated:

“This truly is an astonishing event. How can I turn someone away who has tamed the untamable, who has calmed the beast that is Dragon? Come, stay in my house, we will eat together and be friends. Release them, they are no longer prisoners and there will be no war.”

At this, the Indians closest to us cut our bindings and helped us to our feet. Dragon hopped onto my shoulder where he made chirping noises of irritation to my sudden change in position. Tarius and I looked at each other for a long time before going after the Chief and the villagers.

“You are an amazing woman, Yali. I should have never doubted your compassionate heart.”

“Think nothing of it, Tarius, it was Dragon who did all. Besides, you acted very bravely in the sight of the Chief.”

“Yes, you both should be congratulated for bringing our two villages together. I thank you on behalf of everyone,” beamed George.

The Chief came up to us and spoke some words.

“My Chief insists on your presence for dinner.”

At the mention of dinner and a meal, an idea came to me.

“Tell your Chief that we will join him shortly, but first let me make him an offering. Let me paint him a picture of Dragon, the symbol of our union.”

George spoke to his Chief with great enthusiasm and the Chief agreed. I began to paint the picture, paying close attention to Dragon’s every detail, his colors, feathers, beak, everything, and felt an ease and fluidity in my strokes I had not felt before.

As I reached for a dab of chartreuse paint, I noticed I had run out of colors. My palette was dry and I had no more paint to replenish it. My enchanting experiences had made me forget all about replacing my old paint set with a fresh one. What was I to do?

In my anguish and moment of stress, Dragon flapped his wings, distracting me from my dilemma. As I watched him a miraculous thing began to occur. I gasped for breath, as slowly the colors of his wings and body began to come undone. They seemed to leap into the air, sparkling in tiny fragments of dust and move as if in a graceful dance.

Suddenly, the particles landed on my palette and turned into puddles of paint, giving me all of the colors I needed to complete my canvas. I stared, amazed at my palette and then at Dragon, who was now completely devoid of color, save for white.

Arara branca (white macaw)

His purity reminded me of the palace I had envisioned paradise to be. The great stone wall and exquisite fabrics, however, no longer interested me. I had found a new meaning for paradise: unity. Dragon brought us Portuguese and the Tupi Indians together. With this, we could build our own version of paradise.

So, how do you paint paradise? You don’t, but a parrot could paint paradise for you, and Dragon was just such a bird.

The End

Copyright © 2008 by Thais Angelica Tavares Lopes

Fiction Story — ‘How to Paint Paradise: A Magical Amazon Story’ (Part One)

Amazonian macaw (in Portuguese, arara)

(Today’s piece is a story by guest contributor Thais Angelica Tavares Lopes. Thais Angelica is my oldest daughter. Her varied background encompasses a range of subjects, including art instruction, drawing, sewing, dress designing, convention-hopping, and creative writing. This specific story is replete with magical realism and the scent of the Amazon rain forest.)    

Have you ever wondered about paradise? Does it really exist? If it does, is it an actual place? If it were, would it be a huge palace made out of alabaster stone, covered with massive gold pillars, furnished with delicate embroidered pillows, luscious velveteen royal-purple curtains draped by huge windows, and jewel-bedecked people dancing in merriment?

Well I have. I’ve even thought about painting it, but how does one go about painting paradise? I’ve come to the conclusion that … well, it’s hard to explain without going into all the details. I wondered, if I were to experience a place such as this I would surely find out what paradise looked like, but I was wrong.

It happened long, long ago. I was very young then, a budding painter. I had been asked to come to the New World to depict the various aspects of Brazilian wildlife. Wildlife? Why would I want to paint that? I wanted to paint marble towers and ancient castles, not trees and parrots. But my patrons insisted, and so I relented — much to my dismay.

The trip from Portugal was long and arduous, but when I finally arrived I was met by my longtime friend, Tarius, who was in charge of a camp at the mouth of the Amazon River. He would be my only comfort, the only thing familiar to me in this vast, new land, densely populated by strange vegetation.

“This heat is insufferable,” I complained. “Why can’t the summer be more like fall, cool and breezy, more agreeable to us all?”

“True, but if it were so then it would always be cool, it would be easier to catch a cold,” answered Tarius.

“What do I care about colds? I just don’t want to die from extreme heat, melting like an icecap in Greenland.”

“Is there nothing that pleases you, Yali?” sighed the haughty Tarius.

“Only the cool drink of the guaraná fruit will satisfy my parched lips, Tarius,” I giggled.

“Then I shall ask my servant, the Indian boy, to fix you up with one right away. See hear, George, will you be a gentlemen and fetch Lady Yali a drink?”

“Why certainly, my lord.”

Tupi Indian native (Photo: picfair.com)

As the servant ran off, I turned again to my longtime friend and inquired, “Is it necessary to send him scampering about all the time? I mean, he is our age, and besides, you could have done it yourself.”

“Indeed, but then I would have to part from this lovely vision here before me.”

I felt a blush rise up to my cheeks and quickly averted my eyes. Luckily, at that moment, George came back and bowed to me, gently handing me the drink made by the Tupi Indians of Brazil with his tanned rough hands.

“I thank you, George, and here, have some money for your trouble.”

“Thank you, but no thank you, Miss. You see, I don’t take money for a simple favor such as this.”

“Are you sure? Well, if you’re certain.”

“Thanks again, George, you can return to your camp duties now.”

“Yes sir.”

As George retreated, I sipped slowly and delicately, as a butterfly sips honey from a flower, or so I thought. I kept my watchful brown eyes on the boy until he left my sight, choosing this moment to finish my drink and turn my attention back to Tarius.

“So what do you think of our tropical gem?” questioned Tarius.

“It’s very different from Portugal, very wild, untamed so to speak. So much nature surrounds this place; you can almost feel the unearthly echo of silence reverberating in your ear. No mighty kingdoms, no luxurious dresses, nothing but trees, trees, and more trees.”

Blue and yellow macaw (Photo: Real World Holidays)

At this mention of silence, a macaw flew down from the nearest fig tree and landed in a nearby shrub. I had never seen such a creature before and was amazed at its long persistent gaze as it perched and munched on wild berries.

“Such a strange looking bird. How do you suppose it became so colorful?” I inquired.

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Tarius, “probably from the colorful fruit it eats? I really have no idea. Do you see the sun setting? It’s time we ate dinner and got ourselves to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a moment, I want to watch this intriguing fellow a while longer.”

“If you insist. Don’t stay out too long, you never know what lurks behind those bushes.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t.”

With that, Tarius left to go see about the dinner preparations. The macaw was very passive and continued to munch and stare at me as if it knew I was watching it. Its green and blues were as vibrant as the grass, and its yellow and reds were as fierce as a roaring flame. It was a stunning sight to behold such a peaceful animal of the forest.

“I wonder if it will let me get closer to it,” I thought aloud.

As I carefully inched toward it, the bird turned its head and flew in a westward direction. I followed after it, even though I felt somewhat startled. The bird landed on a young boy’s shoulder, who upon seeing the bird, patted it on the head and continued clearing the ground for a fire.

“Hey,” I gingerly called.

The boy whipped his body around so fast that the bird almost fell off of his thin, unstable frame.

“Yes my lord?”

“Oh, it’s you, George!”

“Oh Lady Yali, you scared me witless. I must catch my breath, pardon me.”

“No, pardon me, it was I who startled you. I merely wanted to inquire about that bird, is it yours?”

“Lady Yali, you should know that no animal can truly be tamed, nor can we call a free animal our own, but if by your question you mean has it made my acquaintance, then the answer is yes.”

“How lovely. What kind of bird is it? Have you named it yet? If you have, would you tell it to me?”

“Yes, my lady, one question at a time. It is a male macaw, a member of the tropical parrot family. As for his name, I have not yet decided upon a moniker for him yet. He likes to sit and stare whimsically at me, but he does not seem to enjoy the company of other people in the camp, nor in my village.”

“That indeed is very odd. Do you think he would mind my stroking his feathers?”

“He has bitten all who try, but if you feel up to the challenge I will not try to stop your ladyship.”

Amazon rain forest canopy

I carefully set my hand in front of the macaw and waited for his reaction. The macaw turned his bristly green head, blinked, and cawed. Slowly, I placed a finger on his belly and tickled him. A sharp whistle escaped his fine beak and then he nibbled my finger. The sharp pain stung but I did not recoil. After realizing that I would not back down, the bird let go and I was able to finish petting him.

“Amazing. That is the first time he has backed out of a fight.”

“I am honored to have him on my side, since he is truly fierce. We should name him Dragon.”

“Name him what?” exclaimed George.

“Dragon? Do your people not know the stories and legends of the ancient reptilian animal that is taller than any tree, has large scaly wings twice the size of their bodies, and out of their eternal wrath spout shoots of fire from their foul mouths?”

“Are there such horrible beasts as these among the lands?”

“These are only stories that people in my country tell their children to teach them a lesson. But my point is, this mythological creature is famed for its intolerance of others. Don’t you think this macaw acts much like one of these beasts?”

“Indeed, he does. This name befits him well.”

I smiled, as did George. We stared for a while at each other’s faces but I, being somewhat shy in nature, and he, seemingly to be the same way, turned our attention back to Dragon, who was beginning to nibble on George’s hair.

Shy macaw (Photo: Alamy Stock Photo – alamy.com)

“Miss, if ever there is anything you require simply ask it of me, I am yours to command. A friend of Dragon’s is most certainly a friend of mine, if I am not being too bold in my statement,” said a bowing George.

“Not at all, in fact …”

“Yali, it is past the time for idle talk. Dinner is almost ready. George, I thought I told you to start that fire,” said Tarius, marching across the camp to join Yali and George.

“Yes, sir, I had forgotten my place, sir. The fire will be lit momentarily.

“Come, Yali, let us walk together.”

“Oh, well, see you later George.” As I walked away in the arms of Tarius, I turned my head back to George but continued to walk on.

Night fell fast in the Amazon. I had never seen a sky so magnificent; it looked as though a dark velvet sheet lay on top of the whole world, while small stars peeked through the vast darkness. Granted that huge trees blocked my perfect view of the firmament, I was still able to enjoy the evening. After dinner, I lay on my wooden cot running the day through my mind. However, it being late and the exhaustion of the first day overcoming me, sleep came quickly and overtook my body.

End of Part One

(To be continued….)

Copyright © 2008 by Thais Angelica Tavares Lopes