Pictures of You (8 page)
Authors: Barbara Delinsky
“Well, ah, let me see.” The consummate joker, he rolled his eyes upward, squinting as he did so, as though he had so many, many years to dig from and couldn't quite decide where to begin.
“I was born in New York, though we moved to Chicago when I was three, so I don't remember much. My dad worked for a national insurance company and was periodically transferred. We lived in a huge high-rise in Chicago until I was seven, when we moved to Boston. My mother still lives there, in an apartment overlooking the Charles River.” He paused, temporarily lost in thought.
So that was why Roberto spent so much time in Boston,
she reasoned,
with his mother still there!
So that was why Roberto spent so much time in Boston,
she reasoned,
with his mother still there!
“Your father?” she redirected him.
“He died. Four years ago, now. It was very hard on my mother. They were so close. And his death was very sudden. Roberto was a great helpâ” he stopped abruptly, wondering if he had spilled the beans.
Eva laughed aloud at his guilty look, the laugh loosening the tension in her shoulders as her feet plodded on. “I know. Roberto told me last night.”
“What else did Roberto tell you last night?” A mischievous gleam in his eye, Paul had lowered his voice to one of mocking intimacy.
Eva blushed. “I mean, I guessed the relationship and Roberto confirmed it. The resemblance is remarkable.”
Becoming serious again, Paul continued his earlier thought. “Roberto was terrific. He helped my mother over a rough time and me as well. I don't have any other siblings. Roberto became a real brother to me.”
“Hadn't you known him before that?”
“Oh, yes. He spent several months a year, mostly vacations, with us from the earliest time I can remember. But we were never very close. He was a thorn in my father's side. And my father, at his best, was no easy man to get along with! My mother is a saint to have loved him so.” He smiled in resignation, sadness again pervading his recollections.
“What about Roberto? Did he spend the rest of his time in Brazil?” Subconsciously, Eva had narrowed the conversation.
Paul looked at his boots, keeping the gentle pace of the hike, the dust of the path beginning to dull their sheen.
He seems hesitant to say too much about Roberto,
thought Eva.
Almost protective.
After several minutes, having evidently resolved some internal dilemma, he replied to her questions.
He seems hesitant to say too much about Roberto,
thought Eva.
Almost protective.
After several minutes, having evidently resolved some internal dilemma, he replied to her questions.
“Roberto spent most of his time in the States, either at boarding school or on vacation with us. Although his home was formally in São Paulo with his father, he didn't spend much time there until he had graduated from business school and returned there to live. Then we didn't see him as often. Mother missed him.”
Eva's own maternal instinct must have been pricked. “Wouldn't he have been better off with his mother than at boarding school?” Then realizing the ramifications, she added, “Oh, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business.”
“That's okay. You have to understand Brazilian values, Eva,” he replied patiently. “Education is an important source of status. Although Roberto's father was well established, he wanted to guarantee everything for his son, particularly since ⦔ Here he stopped, knowing he had almost gone too far.
Since what?
Eva's curiosity had been aroused. She had taken in every bit of the information he had given her about Roberto, in hopes that it would help her better understand this enigmatic man.
What was this last hesitation?
Paul interrupted her thoughts.
Since what?
Eva's curiosity had been aroused. She had taken in every bit of the information he had given her about Roberto, in hopes that it would help her better understand this enigmatic man.
What was this last hesitation?
Paul interrupted her thoughts.
“And speaking of the man, I'd better go up and see how we're doing. Talk with you later, Eva!”
Where he got the energy to sprint ahead to where Roberto was steadily plodding, she would never know. She had enjoyed their conversation but now was becoming
uncomfortably aware of muscles, everywhere, declaring their existence. And she thought she had been in such good shape, always on the go at work! Well, she rationalized, as long as she could keep her moans and groans to herself. She would not give Roberto the satisfaction of discovering her weakness.
uncomfortably aware of muscles, everywhere, declaring their existence. And she thought she had been in such good shape, always on the go at work! Well, she rationalized, as long as she could keep her moans and groans to herself. She would not give Roberto the satisfaction of discovering her weakness.
Mercifully, the group soon stopped for a rest and some lunch. Eva busied herself with her camera bag as she sat on the hard ground, its sparse covering of grass no cushion, though even its bumps were a welcome relief to Eva, having now removed the weight from both her shoulders and her feet. She avoided Roberto's gaze as he passed her on his way to the donkeys. When he returned he carried two small paper sacks, one of which he dropped in her lap as he squatted down in front of her, his back to the others. His face was expressionless, but his dark eyes bore through her and his tone was cold.
“How are you holding up?”
“Just fine! I'm sorry to disappoint you!” Eva shot back, a bit too defensively. A slow smile played on his thin lips, a faint light twinkled from the depths of his black eyes in amusement at her reflex.
“Just wondering. I don't want any lame animals, human or otherwise, this trip,” he murmured, as he straightened up and headed toward the others. “Help yourself! Lunch is over with Carlos!” he called to the others, once again letting his tongue play in a strictly Brazilian way with the pronunciation of the native's name. Turning a final time toward Eva in silent conveyance of a subtle message of understanding, he deposited himself on the ground and concentrated on his own lunch.
Eva frowned in self-disgust. How could she be so transparent? He seemed to know her as well as she knew herself. She contemplated getting up and moving
around, anywhere, just to prove his assumptions wrong, but she didn't quite trust her leg muscles yet and she wanted every minute of rest that he would permit. Instead, she settled for a scowl of defiance sent in his direction, before she turned to her own refreshment.
around, anywhere, just to prove his assumptions wrong, but she didn't quite trust her leg muscles yet and she wanted every minute of rest that he would permit. Instead, she settled for a scowl of defiance sent in his direction, before she turned to her own refreshment.
Tom had settled himself near Eva and kept up a steady train of chatter, which she found to be both diverting and enjoyable. Once her eye skirted the group and came inadvertently to rest on Roberto's, instantly locking into the intense concentration of his gaze. She was mesmerized by him. His eyes gripped and held her just as his hands had done on other occasions. But she could read nothing in them, nor did she try. His mastery over her frightened her, yet she was powerless to tear her gaze from his. When he finally diverted his eyes, thereby releasing her, she jerked her gaze back to Tom self-consciously; the latter was unable to hide, in his running commentary, a hint of embarrassment at the visual possession he had witnessed. Eva politely listened to, though heard very little of, Tom's remaining chatter; she responded when appropriate but knew her mind dwelled on Roberto.
He had, she acknowledged unwillingly, become an increasing presence in her thoughts. There was so much about him that puzzled her. She knew so little of him, yet they shared an intimacy in every glance. He seemed to know her mind, anticipating her inner thoughts and actions. And as much as she fought him, she knew that in the end she would have to yield to him, as much of her own volition as his.
The rest stop was over and the line of march resumed. Eva had been rejuvenated by the break, her muscles regaining some of their strength. She knew that although they would be a lot sorer by nightfall, they had to become accustomed to the steady pace sooner or later. While still fresh from the brief hiatus, she worked with her camera, as much as the uninterrupted movement of the caravan would allow. The view changed subtly as they gradually gained altitude; she photographed these new vistas and the foliage of the mountainside, so far from being lush, yet so beautiful in its ruggedness.
The midday sun had begun to leave its mark. Sweat trickled from Eva's scalp, down her neck, gathering in the bend of her elbows as they folded to allow her moist palms to ease the burden of the shoulder straps. Beneath the knapsack her T-shirt clung to her. Perspiration dotted her midriff where her camera bag occasionally made contact.
The men were not immune to the heat either, much to Eva's satisfaction. The Frenchmen, walking abreast
now and exchanging words in their native tongue, had slowed some, falling back nearer to Eva. Tom, to her amusement, gesticulated periodically with his hands, fanning his face, flapping his wings, all in an attempt to cool himself and well aware that he was on a stage entertaining those behind him. Paul, further ahead, kept up the pace diligently, his only sign of discomfort the occasional mopping of his forehead with the back of his hand.
now and exchanging words in their native tongue, had slowed some, falling back nearer to Eva. Tom, to her amusement, gesticulated periodically with his hands, fanning his face, flapping his wings, all in an attempt to cool himself and well aware that he was on a stage entertaining those behind him. Paul, further ahead, kept up the pace diligently, his only sign of discomfort the occasional mopping of his forehead with the back of his hand.
Roberto, on whose striding form Eva's eyes eventually fell, seemed barely aware of the sun's searing rays. The band of his hat had taken on the darker hue of moisture and his forearms glistened faintly with sweat as they swung gently at his sides, but otherwise he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying both the weather and the physical exertion.
His composure is unfair,
she thought maddeningly, looking again to the others for justification of her own discomfort.
His composure is unfair,
she thought maddeningly, looking again to the others for justification of her own discomfort.
Through the afternoon they moved onward, the overall speed slowing somewhat as Roberto geared his pace to the majority. The climb was neither straight nor steadily up, now. The small troop wound its way on the worn path that clung to the mountainside, mounting the top of a ridge then descending in its wake. Along the downward stretches Eva felt herself propelled along by sheer force of gravity; her legs by now were taking very few directions from her brain.
The worst of the heat climaxed at midafternoon, and soon the sun moved further across the sky to throw the group mercifully into the bright, but more bearable by far, shadow of the hill they hugged.
Eva pushed herself on and on, her shoulders now numb under their punishing weights and her feet beyond the point of sensation. Under the command of anyone else she would have begged for more rest along the way, but under Roberto's lead it was another matter.
He was intent on reaching the deserted mine by midday tomorrow, which meant a minimum of stops today. When he finally did signal an end to the day's climb, Eva saw that they were at a larger clearing than the mere hints of ones they had paused at earlier. Roberto knew the route well. This clearing must have been the day's goal all along, and he had succeeded in pushing each and every one of them to his limit to reach it. Begrudgingly, Eva had to admire his perseverance, even as her muscles throbbed in disagreement.
He was intent on reaching the deserted mine by midday tomorrow, which meant a minimum of stops today. When he finally did signal an end to the day's climb, Eva saw that they were at a larger clearing than the mere hints of ones they had paused at earlier. Roberto knew the route well. This clearing must have been the day's goal all along, and he had succeeded in pushing each and every one of them to his limit to reach it. Begrudgingly, Eva had to admire his perseverance, even as her muscles throbbed in disagreement.
The clearing was just off the main path, large enough to accommodate the whole group and open enough to permit a small fire without danger of conflagration. Eva lowered her packs at the base of a stunted tree, much like the others rimming the clearing. Impulsively, she collapsed onto her back, knees bent, arm across her eyes, where she lay in pure exhaustion, heedless of any activity that might be taking place around her.
In fact, there was practically none. The others, as tired as she, had adopted similar poses; each kept to himself as though centering every bit of psychic energy on the thought of rest and relaxation. Only Roberto and Carlos kept busy, tying the donkeys securely and unloading the packs. At one point Roberto called on Jacques to give him a hand, but he seemed otherwise content to work himself.
Just as Eva's breathing began to settle down to a more even beat, she heard footsteps close beside her ear. Removing her arm from across her eyes and squinting up into the shadow looming over her, she saw Roberto and the faint amusement in his grin.
“Rested?” he taunted, knowing full well that it would be a long time before she would be able to answer that honestly.
“Of course!” she jumped up, wincing involuntarily at the pain in her thighs at the sudden movement.
“What can I do?” she asked impatiently, seeking to compensate for the grimace, which she was sure he had seen and obviously enjoyed.
“What can I do?” she asked impatiently, seeking to compensate for the grimace, which she was sure he had seen and obviously enjoyed.
He set her to work unloading the cooking utensils, while he doled out chores to the others. When she had completed this, he ushered her to the pack containing their dinner, with instructions on how to prepare it.
“When Paul has finished building the fire, you can start to cook. I'll leave that to you. I'm sure you've had more experience at it than we have,” he mocked her, the gleam of his white teeth showing through his satanic grin.
Eva glared at him as she set to work. It wasn't the work she objected to, she knew, but rather his attitude toward her. He was purposely pushing her hard out of spite; he was determined to see her crumble in the face of the challenge. Well, she would not let that happen! Her own anger and rising determination gave her the strength she needed to prepare the dinner, which at any other time she would have thoroughly enjoyed doing.
Paul started a good fire and Eva managed to improvise with the cooking equipment the simple grilling of the steaks which had been supplied. The other men, having completed their own jobs by now, talked among themselves while she worked. Only Roberto seemed somewhat aloof, leaning lazily against a tree on the outskirts of the group. Whether he was watching her she couldn't tell, though she stole a sideways glance at him from time to time. It must have been her comment the evening before about “woman's work” that had prompted this punishment of her, she concluded.
I'll show him I can cope with this and more,
she vowed under her breath, accidentally burning her finger on a pot handle, then rushing it to her mouth to ease the pain.
I'll show him I can cope with this and more,
she vowed under her breath, accidentally burning her finger on a pot handle, then rushing it to her mouth to ease the pain.
Fortunately the meal went well, despite the throbbing finger which now joined Eva's muscles in rebellion. The men, with the exception of Roberto, complimented her profusely for the delicious fare, appreciative of the toll her work must have taken on her exhausted body.
As they ate, the conversation revolved around their anticipated arrival the next day at the deserted mine, where the Espinhaco Topaz was last seen.
“Where did you find that map, Roberto? Have you ever been up here before?” Tom's enthusiasm was infectious.
“The map belonged to an old man who lived in Terra Vermelho. I had known him well as a child, since I spent much time here. When he died last year he left the map for me, knowing of my interest in such adventures. No, I've never been to this mine before, though I've traveled through the Serra do Espinhaco many times. I used to guide groups of visiting explorers, thus the old man knew of my passion!” Here he looked at Eva, the double meaning thick on his tongue.
Eva looked away quickly, hoping that none of the others would catch the suggestion. Jacques now picked up the train of conversation, his accent lending an air of romance to the expedition.
“Why has the old mine been unexplored for so long? Did no one try to find the Topaz before?”
Roberto was prepared for this query, as he continued his narrative. “The native Brazilians hold many superstitions, one relating to a primitive creature, half man and half beast, who wanders the Serra do Espinhaco. The map has been passed on for three generations, each one either fearing to search for the Topaz or unable to organize an expedition. I am not a superstitious man, though I would advise you not to wander too far from camp tonight.” He finished with a sly, almost demonic smile; in that instant Eva could have
believed this man to be related to the legendary creature.
believed this man to be related to the legendary creature.
Eva had been sitting with the others in relaxed formation around the glowing embers of the fire. The air was comfortable now, devoid of chill yet a sharp contrast to the day's heat. It entered her mind to photograph this intimate and friendly gathering, but the thought of disturbing her weary bones was too painful. She had, as it was, removed her sneakers to expose the raw blisters on each heel to the soothing air. Now she opted for pure relaxation, joining the discussion as she found it becoming more and more fascinating.
“What will we find, exactly, when we get to the mine, Roberto?” she asked, unconsciously batting at the small insects which, attracted by the light of the dying fire, swarmed about.
“That I can't tell you. I've had to guess as to what equipment to bring. At best we'll find the entrance to the mine and its long corridors open. My map directs us from the top, so we won't get lost once inside the mine. It could be easy sailing all the way, right to the ledge on which the Topaz supposedly sits.”
“And at worst?” interjected Pierre, the pessimist always.
Roberto turned toward him, his expression growing more serious now. “At worst we'll find the mine collapsedâshafts, entrance, everything. We have some digging equipment if it's just the case of one corridor or another being blocked. Also, if it's just the entrance, we can probably dig through. But if it's the works, then it would take many more days than we have supplies for and much heavier equipment than ours to extricate the Topaz. In that case, our little jaunt will have been in vain, at least in regard to the Espinhaco Topaz.” His sad smile echoed Eva's sentiments, although she was beginning to wonder if the Topaz would indeed be the
greatest memory of this trip for her. Her own sad smile turned to Roberto, and in that moment she knew that when she returned to New York the memory of him would probably outlive that of the Topaz. For in his strangely quixotic way he had awakened feelings within her that she thought to be long dead. He had made her feel alive again, at times gloriously and at times regretfully, but nonetheless alive!
greatest memory of this trip for her. Her own sad smile turned to Roberto, and in that moment she knew that when she returned to New York the memory of him would probably outlive that of the Topaz. For in his strangely quixotic way he had awakened feelings within her that she thought to be long dead. He had made her feel alive again, at times gloriously and at times regretfully, but nonetheless alive!
What insanity, she scolded herself! What was she thinking about this Roberto de Carvalho? Women were his specialtyâcharm them, seduce them, then desert them. She wouldn't let herself fall into that trap. But she was jumping the gun, wasn't she? He despised her as much as she wanted to despise him. He thought she was some cheap tramp, a sex-starved black widow, he had called her. She'd have to keep her distance, she warned herself once more. She couldn't trust him, and she feared increasingly that she couldn't trust herself.
“You look so sad, Eva. Does the prospect of seeing the Espinhaco Topaz mean so much to you?” Roberto's mocking tone broke into her thoughts, causing a blush to creep up from her neck camouflaged only by the fading light of dusk.
Her head jerked toward him. “Ah ⦠no ⦠I mean, what a shame it would be to have come all this way and be thwarted by nature itself! What could cause a collapse of the mine? Are there earthquakes around here?”
“No. No earthquakes. No blizzards. Just rain. Not very often. Not very long. But when it comes it hits hard. Torrents. Over the years a few such torrential downpours could have gradually weakened the structure enough to have caused a cave-in.”
“But when was the last time the mine has been seen ⦠open?” Tom broke in.
“A group of Canadian hikers scored the Serra do
Espinhaco four years ago,” Roberto replied. “Although they were mainly here for the hiking, one of them was an historian doing a dissertation on the Brazilian gold rush and its profound effects on the country. As they hiked, he mapped each of the paths they covered, labeling the location of each of the mines and its condition. When I came into possession of this map, I contacted him and he confirmed that four years ago this mine entrance was open. I would have come soon after I got the map, but I had neither the time nor the company then. As I said, none of the natives want to come up here. Fortunately for us, Carlos is beyond superstition. And he needs the money!” He smiled warmly as he looked toward Carlos, who sat apart from the core of the group as though he were more comfortable with the donkeys. At the mention of his name he raised a hand in recognition of the only word he could understand. Roberto said something briefly to him in Portuguese, then turned back to the fire.
Espinhaco four years ago,” Roberto replied. “Although they were mainly here for the hiking, one of them was an historian doing a dissertation on the Brazilian gold rush and its profound effects on the country. As they hiked, he mapped each of the paths they covered, labeling the location of each of the mines and its condition. When I came into possession of this map, I contacted him and he confirmed that four years ago this mine entrance was open. I would have come soon after I got the map, but I had neither the time nor the company then. As I said, none of the natives want to come up here. Fortunately for us, Carlos is beyond superstition. And he needs the money!” He smiled warmly as he looked toward Carlos, who sat apart from the core of the group as though he were more comfortable with the donkeys. At the mention of his name he raised a hand in recognition of the only word he could understand. Roberto said something briefly to him in Portuguese, then turned back to the fire.
Remembering the early start they had made that morning, Eva ventured timidly, “What time are we starting out tomorrow?” She immediately regretted the question, as Roberto's gaze became one of derision.
“I'd like to be off by sunup again, so we can reach the mine by early afternoon, before the worst of the heat sets in. Can you make it?” he aimed his question solely at Eva.
“I did it this morning, didn't I?” she retorted, trying to disguise her annoyance in front of the others.
He continued to provoke her. “I think you'd better begin cleaning up these plates and pans if you want to get much rest tonight!”
Of all the nerve,
simmered Eva.
I make the meal, tired as I am, and he thinks I'm just going to abide by his command and clean up, too? We'll see who commands here!
Her indignant reply raised all heads.
simmered Eva.
I make the meal, tired as I am, and he thinks I'm just going to abide by his command and clean up, too? We'll see who commands here!
Her indignant reply raised all heads.
“I have no intention of waiting on any of you. If anyone here wants to eat food cooked on clean pans off clean plates tomorrow, you'd better get off your butts and help!” She was furious with Roberto, though she tried to add a note of humor for the sake of the others. With that, she rose and moved toward the fire, tossing instructions here and there as she went, though sparing Roberto a direct order. She had no desire to test his compliance, or to work side by side with him, for that matter!
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