And that was all. She could learn by immersion, of course. After years living in a country, even Hungarian can be learned, and Jonas hadn’t needed to live in an English-speaking country to master the language and make himself understood so well with Annie. But it was an effort even for him. At that pace, in several months she wouldn’t learn more than half a dozen key words which, if the necessity arose, wouldn’t be enough for her to get by.
But Annie needed no rescue. What she needed was rest and the forgetfulness she found in those daily walks in Tijuca Forest. She needed to walk a lot, as much as possible, and take different trails every time, as if each one could neutralize, if only for a few hours, the wear and tear of that city, of the cocaine, of Jonas, and all the rest. Which is why she was anxious as she walked, because deep down nothing could any longer provide the initial relief and restore the feeling that, despite everything, she was recovering. Neither coatis nor severed fingers — even though that finger specifically had achieved its effect, like the rush the powder had afforded her weeks before when she met Jonas, and which had less and less effect after that first time. She walked faster and faster, aware of the animals and the trash cans, curious to return to the Borel favela, so near to the edge of the park, determined to find out how the hell that finger had ended up in the trash can. That was when she bumped into the park ranger.
He was a tall black man, and he was nervous when he came up to Annie to ask her not to walk by herself on those trails, it could be dangerous. Annie thought about smiling but remained serious. The man, not knowing what to do with the foreign woman, improvised with sign language while he went on explaining that she was a woman by herself, attractive, and the forest was large, too large — we do what we can to keep everything safe, but there are areas that can’t be monitored, and if a man with bad intentions shows up (and here his pantomime was especially direct), he couldn’t promise she would come out of the episode unscathed. After all, she was young and pretty and attractive, and Annie, seeing the man making those gestures, wondered whether she should take off her clothes right there and hope, when it was over, that maybe he had a bit of coke.
But no. She needed the solitude that one more random screw wouldn’t give her. She approached him and, touching his arm, explained in English that she hadn’t understood anything he’d said but that she didn’t want sex. The man wouldn’t have had to understand her words for his work responsibility to prevent him from grabbing the beautiful woman who, ignoring all his warnings, was approaching him. Even if it was difficult to contain himself. If they had met in some other setting, of course he would have taken advantage of the situation; and if she had the courage to let him see the severed finger, perhaps he could have even indicated to her where to look for its former owner. For there were many things in that apparently docile and cozy park of which Annie was unaware. And one of them was still the danger of walking alone on those trails during hours when few people were around, repeated the ranger dejectedly, until she grew tired and left.
At least it was Friday night and the weekend awaited them. Not that this dramatically changed Annie’s situation, as she had nothing to do anyway, but it was pleasant to think that Jonas would be free the next day.
“I’m going to make a quick run up there for a last-minute order,” he had said, “and then we can do a line and leave. Maybe we can go see those gringo friends from the bar we met a couple of weeks ago.”
Annie wasn’t good at meeting people in random situations and Jonas’s friends didn’t amuse her. Considering the few chances she had to speak with strangers, it was almost surprising that she had managed to even meet those gringos. It’s worthwhile to invest in friendships, her mother had said a day earlier via Skype, concerned, and it was with that spirit that Annie decided to send them a message asking if they were up for a beer.
Jonas had left about fifty minutes before. According to what he said, he wouldn’t be more than half an hour — his missions usually took about that long. Something unforeseen, maybe; it happens. I don’t want to have to worry about anything, she said when they first met. Worry exhausted her, and she wasn’t willing to be exhausted, never again.
“I’ve already exhausted everything I had, understand?”
Jonas didn’t have to understand. He gave her what she wanted, in exchange for what he wanted, and things were fine. With her, he spoke the English she was accustomed to hearing. With others, he spoke the Portuguese that she would never speak. Annie continued to be amazed at her luck in finding this available neighbor right after arriving in Rio, when she still hadn’t known how to adapt to the city — but knew she was unwilling to do so.
An hour and twenty minutes waiting for him. The last line had been on Thursday, and all day Friday she’d been clean. She had tried calling, and nothing, not even a text message — even their friends hadn’t answered. Should she go out looking for him? Brazilian men are fickle, she had heard someone say when she chose Rio. It wasn’t enough. Not that he loved her and needed to keep her close at all times; he just wasn’t the type of person to abandon her, especially after having agreed to a snort and her spending all day waiting for him to complete the routine.
Her cell phone chimed, announcing a message, and Annie jumped to open it. The friends: they couldn’t make it that night, maybe tomorrow. The idea of the next night was still somewhat cloudy for Annie, who, without Jonas’s arrival with more blow, couldn’t visualize much beyond the next twenty minutes. The old house where she rented a room was empty, and if there were anyone to complain about the noise, Annie surely wouldn’t listen to The Killers at such a high volume as she was doing right now. Running out, running out was an old song. She had now been waiting an hour and forty minutes, perhaps in vain, because Jonas might not be coming back. Our time, she repeated, imitating many others besides the vocalist, and how many others must have left the comfort of their beds to look for someone who, bearing something of value, doesn’t come?
She waited another fifteen minutes before deciding. She got her purse, took the finger from the freezer and put it in her skirt pocket, slammed the door behind her, and walked to the mototaxi stand. It couldn’t be all that difficult to find him, and maybe she would discover the ex-owner of the finger as a bonus. The driver there wasn’t one of the guys recommended by Jonas. She approached him nevertheless — she still remembered the name of the luncheonette at the top of the favela and with luck would recognize the spot. The driver left her at the exact spot she requested, but she didn’t know which alleyway to take. Many people passed by, among them mothers bringing their children from school and bricklayers returning from work, and it was sheer luck that she recognized the man who days before had asked her if she loved Jonas and was afraid of losing him. The man seemed surprised at being approached by the gringa with her sign language and the few key words she knew in Portuguese: cocaine and Jonas. Guffawing at something, the man took her arm and led her to the house where she had been before.
There were lots of people. The guys from the previous visit and some others, women who seemed to be girlfriends, random visitors. If he was still there, Jonas was nowhere visible. The man Annie had met led her to a corner of the room and asked what she wanted. This time, she didn’t have the strength to smile. The man spoke more slowly and she remained impassive, murmuring, Jonas, cocaína, Jonas, cocaína, enough for the man to at least imagine what she was after. He asked her to stay there and left for a moment. Even without understanding, Annie stayed. Her right hand in her pocket brushed against the loose finger. After a few minutes, the man brought another, precisely the one who, as Jonas had said, was missing his pinky. Surprised, she squeezed the finger in her pocket, and squeezed it more when asked something that she didn’t understand, and went on with her sequence of cocaine, Jonas, and so on.