The Cure

It must have been after midnight when Jeff awoke.

The hut was dark, but moonlight streamed through the doorway. As Jeff rolled over, he could see Marie standing beside his hammock.

She was stark naked.

The long golden flame of her hair shone against the whiteness of her breasts, and there were little flecks of light dancing in her eyes.

Jeff held out his arms and she moved forward, smiling.

Then the knife came down.

Jeff caught the reflection of the moonlight on the steel, caught it just in time to twist his. body to one side. There was a harsh, ripping sound as the blade of the machete slashed through the coarse canvas of the hammock.

He grappled with her, his hands sliding across the warm weight of her body, slippery with sweat. Marie made sounds deep within her throat, and slashed at him again. The machete bit into Jeff's ankle, and he screamed.

Then a dark form blotted out the moonlight from the doorway, hurtled forward and pinned Marie from behind.

"Senhor, you are all right?"

"I guess so." Jeff clambered out of the hammock, gasping at the sudden surge of pain in his ankle as he found the lamp and lit it.

Luiz stood quite calmly – a little man with a brown face and long black bangs, who could have passed for a wooden Indian. A wooden Indian with a machete of his own in his hand, pressed against Marie's throat.

"Yes, Senhor?"

"No!" Jeff muttered. "Don't!"

Luiz shrugged and let the machete fall, but did not release the girl. There was no expression in his muddy brown eyes.

Marie began to whimper.

"I'll kill you, Jeff, I swear it! You thought I didn't know, but I do. The money came, didn't it? You and Mike have the money, you're going to run away and leave me here to die. But I won't let you. I'll kill you first, I'll kill you--"

"Hey, what goes on here?"

Mike came into the hut, wheezing from his climb up the ladder. He stared at them.

Jeff shrugged. The words came hard, but they came. "It's Marie," he said. "She flipped her wig."

"Came at you with a machete, huh?"

"That's right. She thinks we got the dough and we're planning to pull a sneak."

"Maybe it's fever."

"Look at her," Jeff said.

Mike looked at Marie. Her eyes were wild and mindless.

"Guess you're right," Mike sighed. "It isn't fever. So now what do we do?"

"I don't know. She'll have to be watched." Jeff turned to Luiz. "Lucky you came along," he told the Indian.

Luiz nodded. "I see her come out of the hut with machete, so I walk behind. She look bad. Is a sickness in the head, no?"

"Yeah. A sickness in the head. We'll have to take her back to her hut and tie her down on her cot."

"Let us do it," Mike suggested. "You'd better look after that ankle of yours. It's bleeding bad. If there was only a doctor around--"

Jeff grunted. "She needs a doctor worse than I do," he said. "I've seen this coming on for weeks. These Brazil backwaters are no place for a dame. No wonder she flipped. If that dough doesn't get here soon, we'll all flip." Bitterly, he thought of the half-million dollars and of Gonzales in Cuba, who, for a third of the split, was dumping the U.S. bills in exchange for pesos and was sending the pesos to them in their jungle hiding place. What was holding him up?

Mike and Luiz got Marie out of the hut, carrying her down the ladder. Jeff limped over to the bureau and looked for some brandy. He wanted to sterilize the wound. In this jungle damp, even a scratch could be dangerous. He found the bottle and was all set to pour some on when Luiz came back. He had something in his hand. The stained rag looked like some kind of poultice.

"I fix," he said. "Muito bom."

Jeff lay back in the hammock as Luiz bound his ankle. The poultice burned.

"Marie all right?" he asked.

"Senhor Mike, he ties her tight," Luiz answered. Then he paused. "Why you not let me kill her? She try to kill you."

"Because she didn't know what she was doing. She's out of her head."

"But she hurt you. I do not let anyone hurt the Senhor."

"That's all right, Luiz. You're a good boy," Jeff sighed. "Now go away and let me rest."

The Indian slipped away, and Jeff fell into a troubled sleep. It must have been midafternoon when Mike climbed the ladder to his hut again and Jeff awoke to find him standing there.

"How is she?" he asked.

Mike grunted. "Listen," he said. "You ought to be able to hear her screaming from here."

"That bad. huh?"

"Plenty bad. Hollering about the dough at the top of her lungs. If these Indians understood English, we'd be in real trouble. We've got to get her to a doctor, quick."

Jeff sat up, slapping at a mosquito. "I can't travel with this leg," he said. "Besides, we have to wait here for the dough. Then we can go down to the coast, take a freighter to Belem. It's a big city – they've got psychiatrists there."

Mike looked at him. "I wonder how long it'll take before your foot heals," he said. "Maybe the smart thing to do is take her now. For all we know, the dough won't arrive for another month. We can't keep her tied up all the time, can we?"

"But I told you, I can't travel now."

"You don't have to," Mike answered. "Luiz and I could take her to Belem."

"And leave me here all alone?"

"Somebody'd have to stay anyway, to get the dough when it comes."

Jeff blinked at his partner. "You'd trust me?"

"Sure, why not?" Mike smiled. "We're buddies, aren't we? We pulled the armored truck job off together, didn't we? Of course I trust you with the doughain't you always trusted me with Marie?" He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "So let's do it this way. Luiz and I will take Marie down to Santaren in the piragua. From there we can catch some tramp steamer into Belem. We still got a grand or so stashed away, and that ought to be enough. I'll slip a few bucks to the skipper and no-body'll pay any attention to Marie no matter what she's yelling about. In Belem I'll hunt up a good headshrinker, get her fixed up. One of those private hospital deals, I figure. By the time you get the money, she'll be OK again. That's the way you want it, isn't it, Jeff?"

"Yeah," Jeff sighed. "That's the way I want it."

And that's the way it was.

The days slipped by. The women of the village brought food to Jeff and cleaned his hut and fanned him with leaves. Something went wrong with the wound, for he soon became fevered. In his delirium, time was without meaning – he did not know how long Mike, Marie and Luiz had been gone. Sometimes it seemed like hours. Sometimes it seemed like years.

And then, all at once, Luiz was there.

Luiz was there, and everything was all right. Jeff stood up, reeling, and stared at the little brown man with the muddy eyes. Good old Luiz, the perfect servant! He'd take care of everything now, he was back--

"What happened?" Jeff murmured. Luiz shrugged.

"A bad theeng, Senhor."

"Marie, did something happen to Marie?" Jeff gripped the edge ofs the table.

"She is all right," Luiz said.

Jeff relaxed. "OK, then. I can take anything else, I guess. What happened – did Gonzales double-cross us about the money?"

"No, the money came. Senhor."

"You have it?"

"No. Senhor Mike, he had it in the piragua. They theenk I am asleep, but I see him counting it when we go down the river. He tells your woman the runner brings it before they leave here. Now he will run away with her, after he kills me."

"Why, the dirty, stinking rat--"

"Please, Senhor, do not alarm yourself. This Senhor Mike then creeps towards me with his knife, to kill. But I am awake and waiting for him with my own machete. We fight, the money falls in the river – it is a sad theeng, no?

(concluded on page 72)

The Cure

(continued from page 36)

But your honor is saved, for I kill the Senhor Mike very dead."

Jeff began to sweat. "I see. The dough's gone, my double-crossing partner is gone, and Marie--"

"She is all right. "I do just what you say."

"Took her to Belem alone?"

Luiz shrugged. "Please, Senhor. Iam a simple man, I have not the education to go alone to Belem. But I tie up your woman and take her back up the river, to my friends. I find the headshrinker there,"

"In the jungle? But--"

"Look." Luiz unwrapped the bunle from his waist, and something rolled forward onto the table. "Better than you get in Belem. Is a good job, no?

Jeff stared at the object on the table. It was a good job, all right.

Marie's head was no bigger than an orange.