Page 1 of Beautifully Wild

Prologue

Undisclosed location in the rainforest of

Venezuela

Largedarklipspuckeraround a bamboo pipe. Tattooed cheeks puff round.

A tiny smoke cloud momentarily blocks his view of the shaman’s face. When their eyes meet, Samuel lowers his gaze. He knows his place. The upper-class society he was born into holds no ground here.

Words are spoken in a foreign language, one he had to learn and isn’t taught in any educational curriculum. Many indigenous tribes inhabit the Amazon and other rainforests, only this one is unique. Their laws are a stark contrast and incredibly extreme compared to his California lifestyle. Yet he’s chosen to remain here to live a primitive lifestyle for five years and build trust with every passing month or every full moon, as time is perceived differently.

Trust.

Another measure he had to overcome to substantiate his manhood. Every time he leaves the village and returns, he places the entire village at risk of disease. It strains the trust between him, the shaman, and the elders.

Samuel’s ventures beyond the village boundary have lessened over the years. By remaining in the village, the shaman’s trust in him grew. This year, old friends demanded he make an appearance. They were worried about his mental health.

He reciprocated the same opinion of them.

Kneeling before the shaman asking permission to return to the village reminds him of his younger years at an expensive private school. Only here the repercussions could be life or death.

“O’win nuno.”One moon. One month. Wrinkled fingers rise toward the sky. A prayer follows the spirits living among them, a divine power in the tree vines and beneath the soil.

“Waküpe-küruman.”Thank you. Samuel understands that if three full moons pass, his re-entry will be rejected. A new sacrificial ceremony will be required, and Samuel isn’t sure he has the strength or stamina to endure the interrogation of another initiation. When he first came to the village, he was a driven, younger man with a pharmaceutical scholarship. Finding a cure to terminal illnesses fueled his passion for science. Now the only person who holds answers sits before him, a library of knowledge captured inside the mind of the shaman.

The shaman scoops red paste with his finger and wipes it behind Samuel’s ear to where the chief had tattooed him. Another line is drawn across his forehead, representing how the shaman will follow Samuel by his thoughts. He lowers his gaze and nods once, rising to his feet only after the shaman walks away.

He strides to his hut, grabs his backpack, changes into cut-off cargos and a t-shirt, and slips on his sneakers. Outside his hut, the sun is directly above him. He waits until he passes the village perimeter before breaking into a jog, ignoring the pining gaze of a young female native American. He makes his way along a narrow dirt path between thick shrubbery, careful not to touch any spikes on unruly vines. Some needles can cause paralysis in minutes, and thanks to the shaman, Samuel’s now wise enough not to take on the overgrowth in these parts.

He stands on a sandy embankment where tree limbs overhang the water’s edge on either side. Asoo will pass the river fork soon. A weekly occurrence. He’s alerted to the faint roar of a motor, a sound similar to a Yamaha motorbike. He waves to the driver of the dug-out motorized canoe.

“Ciudad Guayana?” Asoo asks. Asoo is ofPemóndescent—a similar tribe to the Ularans.

Samuel shakes his head. The cities north of Canaima are collection points for parcels and letters about his research. Places where he posts exotic plant species to a professor in Caracas. “Rio for a couple of weeks.”

Asoo’s black eyebrows lift. “Rio? For Carnival?”

Samuel curses under his breath. It’s the last thing he wants to do. The hundreds of thousands of people lining the city streets are a threat. Being in Rio can jeopardize the health of the indigenous people he has grown to love. Even a common cold threatens their survival.

“My friends are traveling from California and New York. We’re meeting up in a matter of days.”

Asoo breaks into a song, chanting “New York.” Samuel shakes his head. A fairy-tale city to many. A place where dreams come to life.

Living in a large city no longer interests Samuel. He has found his destiny by trying to escape the one his father had set up for him in Los Angeles.

He considers his sacrifice. Like a priest married to God, he too has dedicated his life to a divine power. Here he learned about ayahuasca, the vine of the soul, while living primitively and in the name of medical research. From a Western medicine perspective, Ulara is a world that made little sense to him, a perspective he has learned to overlook, for Ulara preserves secrets, which potentially can save lives.

Eden

Adelaide, Australia

Everyoneimaginesthemomentyou tell your boss to shove the damn job. Some create composed and reasonable exits, and others are much more dramatic with extensive cursing.

To me, it’s merely a dream because I work for the family business, and my father is the boss. I’m not whining, especially since I’m not unhappy. To be honest, it’s a great job with an opportunity for an upcoming promotion. Did I mention the location is by the beach?

I’m often distracted and gaze out of the window of our small office. Days like today, the ocean is simply mesmerizing. The water is flat, barely a wave, and like glass—the perfect day for paddleboarding. Waves drift in and out as quiet as the office, except for the subtle tapping on the keyboard. It’s quite serene, and I can’t visualize anything to make me angry enough to want to quit despite the feeling in my gut telling me it’s time.

Time to make my own choices.

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