Forest of the Pygmies by Isabel Allende Read Free Book Online

beliefs, races, and languages. The place the missionary’s finger was pointing to meant nothing to him; he understood only that Ngoubé was in another country.
    â€œI have to go there,” said Brother Fernando.
    â€œHow?” Angie asked.
    â€œYou must be Angie Ninderera, the owner of this plane, right? I have heard a lot about you. They told me that you can fly anywhere—”
    â€œHey! Don’t even think of asking me to take you there, man!” exclaimed Angie, holding up both hands in a defensive gesture.
    â€œWhy not? This is an emergency.”
    â€œBecause,” Angie replied, “where you mean to go is a swampy region covered with trees; there’s no place to land. Because no one with an ounce of sense goes anywhere near there. Because I have been hired by International Geographic magazine to bring these journalists back to the capital safe and sound. Because I have other things to do. And, finally, because I don’t, somehow, see you paying me for my trouble.”
    â€œGod will repay you, I have no doubt,” said the missionary.
    â€œListen, it seems to me that your God already has a lot of unpaid debts.”
    As they were arguing, Alexander took his grandmother by the arm and led her aside.
    â€œWe have to help this man, Kate,” he said.
    â€œWhat are you thinking, Alex . . . I mean, Jaguar?”
    â€œThat we could ask Angie to take us to Ngoubé.”
    â€œAnd who’s going to pay for it?” Kate queried.
    â€œThe magazine, Kate. Just imagine the cool article you can write if we find the missing missionaries.”
    â€œAnd if we don’t?”
    â€œIt’s still news. Don’t you see? You won’t get another opportunity like this,” her grandson pleaded.
    â€œI’ll have to check with Joel,” replied Kate, in whose eyes Alex immediately recognized the first glint of awakened curiosity.
    It didn’t seem like a bad idea to Joel, who couldn’t go back home to London anyway because Timothy was still in the hospital.
    â€œAre there snakes there, Kate?”
    â€œMore than anywhere in the world, Joel.”
    â€œBut there are gorillas, too,” Alex said to tempt him. “Maybe you can photograph one up close. It would make a great cover for International Geographic .”
    â€œWell, in that case, I’ll go along,” Joel decided.
    Angie was finally convinced by the roll of bills Kate thrust in her face and the idea of a very difficult flight, a challenge she could not resist. The pilot snagged the money with one fist, lighted the first cigarette of the day, and gave the order to toss some of the baggage into the cabin while she checked the plane’s weight distribution and made sure Super Hawk was in top operating form.
    â€œThis machine is safe, right?” asked Joel, for whom the worst part of his job was snakes and the second-worst part was flying in small planes.
    As her only answer, Angie spat some tobacco shreds at his feet. Alex nudged Joel with his elbow. He shared the photographer’s feeling that this conveyance did not seem altogether safe, especially considering that it was piloted by an eccentric woman with a case of beer at her feet, who also kept alighted cigarette clamped between her teeth only a few feet away from the drums of gasoline carried for refueling.
    Twenty minutes later the Cessna was loaded and the passengers were in place. There weren’t enough seats for everyone, so Alex and Nadia wiggled into a niche among the bundles in the tail; no one used a seat belt because Angie thought it an unnecessary precaution.
    â€œIn case there’s an accident, the belts wouldn’t do anything but keep the bodies from spilling out of the plane,” she said.
    She started the motors; the sound evoked the smile it always did—one of immeasurable tenderness. The plane shook like a wet dog, coughed a little, and began to bump along the improvised landing