Chapter Seven
The smoke before the release.
DeShawn
“I’m sorry,did you say piranha?” Rezi questioned.
“Yes, ma’am. The Amazon River is home to piranhas, as well as electric eels, turtles, manatees, bull sharks, and the arapaima.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks for repeating,” Rezi replied, backing off the boat ramp. To anyone else she appeared calm, cool, and collected, but I knew better.
“Slow down,” I shouted, catching up to her on the dock.
“There’s no way I’m getting on that boat,” she whisper-yelled before I could get another word out.
“Arapaima? I don’t even know what that crap is, but he also said piranhas, eels, sharks …” Her eyes grew bigger.
“Like forget the dangerous creatures on land, Shawn. If you fall in the water, while simply traveling to this village that Mathias keeps talking about, then you’re dead!”
Dead ass. She had a point, and I was nervous myself. But right now, I needed to keep cool, knowing we both couldn’t freak the fuck out.
Shaking her head, she continued. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m going.”
Stepping toward her, I began rubbing her arms in an attempt to soothe her. Honestly, her reservations were understandable. Last night we were having a great Colombian feast in a mountainside villa, and now we were here in the Amazon Rainforest about to board a boat set to take us even deeper into the forest. We’d had zero time to prep for this trip, and with little knowledge of the land, there was nothing to relax your mind when everything the tour guide mentioned seemed to be threatening.
“How in the hell am I even here right now?” she asked rhetorically, throwing up her hands. The question did not need to be answered although it was valid.
When Mathias had mentioned the Amazon at the end of his speech last night, I hadn’t even known he was referring to the rainforest. Let alone that he intended for Rezi and I to not only accompany him on this journey, but spearhead parts of it. He wanted me to help bring the unattainability which the forest represented to everyday people through my videos. Basically, merge the idea that cannabis in any of its forms—blunts, edibles and cross-mixers—can transport the partaker to anywhere they can imagine. The tranquility of a mountainside estate. The exhilaration of a huge jubilee. And even the unreachable depths of the Amazon.
Truthfully, the idea was pretty brilliant. Marketing was all about promoting whatever service or product you choose, and part of what the Murillos wanted to sell to their event guests was an experience. Weed Day was coming up on April 20th, and if I could compile promo to release on that day, then I was positive the extra footage would pay off huge.
Apparently, the notion to gather videos in the Amazon was Anna Maria’s scheme based on something she’d overheard me say. She believed capturing the extra location and working it into the promotion would be an amazing strategy to make people want to attend the Haze and Blaze Festival, and I had to agree.
Rezi accompanying us on the voyage, although initially necessary, now seemed obsolete. Mathias and she had spent the entire two-hour flight and car rides hashing out their investment deal. Signatures were still needed, from my understanding, but beyond that she seemed free to return home. A fact I was working overtime to not bring to her attention.
“Rezi, just think of this as an adventure,” I stated, slowly leading her back toward the riverboat. “The Murillos said that they’ve made this trek dozens of times. We’ll stick with the group, and you know I’d never let anything happen to you without it happening to me first.”
“Oh good,” she murmured sarcastically. “I get to watch you traumatically die before meeting my own end. Sounds greaaat.”
Caught off guard, I paused before recovering and helping her onto the boat. Hearing her speak about my painful death sent chills down my spine, even if I knew it was just her fear talking. I’d discernibly chose the wrong words and would now be forced to picture different ways to get killed out here. Perfect.
Rezi and I both liked adventure, but within reason. We weren’t the type to try too many extreme sports. Rezi worked best when she was prepared, and hearing the guide mention unimaginable wildlife creatures was sending her into a tailspin. Although it happened before we knew each other, I recalled her story about the time she’d fallen into the river when she was on a trip with Titan. She spoke of the fear she experienced seeing an alligator up close and personal before she was pulled out. A fear that stayed with her. We’d be fine now, though … or at least I hoped, as the vessel pushed off.
She and I hadn’t discussed the kiss last night or the uncomfortable moment that followed given the craziness of the morning. Although overwhelming when you stopped to think about it, I’d been grateful for this last-minute trip serving as a distraction. However, as the boat glided down the murky waters of the Amazon, a tenseness began to settle over us. Like all the unspoken words between us were growing hard around us, threatening to swallow us into the dense canopy of the rainforest if we didn’t just air out what needed to be said.
“It wasn’t just about the ring, you know,” Rezi announced, once again beating me to the punch. Her voice cracked as her eyes remained steady on the stream ahead. “You called off our engagement without even talking to me first. Making this huge unilateral decision instead of fighting for us. For me.”
The screeching sound of exotic birds rustling in the trees did little to fill the air, her verses loud and direct. I thought we’d ease into the conversation about our breakup, but the urge to cut to the point seemed to take over her, forcing me to have my candor match hers.
“I thought I was giving you what you wanted.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my beard. “A way out, without you having to be the one to say it.”
Pausing, I wasn’t sure if it were the humidity or nervousness that caused the beads of sweat to drip down my back. However, we were finally having the exchange that was long overdue, and as much as I wanted to retreat without discussion, it was time to voice the truth.
“You were consumed by your work,” I stated. “Always putting it above everything else. I may have called off our engagement and wrongfully asked for the ring back, but you left the relationship weeks before I did. You were unhappy, and I stopped being able to see the future that led back to it.”
Shit, did I say that correctly? My second-guessing kicked in immediately.
I couldn’t quite read the sentiment reflected in her eyes. Anger. Annoyance. Resentment. So many possible feelings for words I hadn’t spoken until now.
“And what about you?” Rezi questioned. “You were so busy focusing on how much I worked, how I coped with … everything, that you just gave up trying to figure out your own shit.”
Her strained smile had a hint of sadness behind it, as tears developed in her eyes. There was a saying about how people would laugh to prevent themselves from crying. Basically, they masked their sadness under an expression that resembled happiness. That proverb would forever remind me of Ree. Awkwardly smiling to stop herself from yelling or crying, letting me know each word she spoke was laced with more pain than many realized.
“You just gave up too easily,” she continued. “And the worst part was I should have known better. It’s the story of your life after all.”
Her face grew calm as she hesitated, her gaze drifting a thousand miles away. “Your parents are good people. But the fact that they were never married, and you never saw them together growing up, affected you in ways you’ve never addressed. You learned to hold your tongue because they didn’t want to hear about each other. So instead of saying the wrong thing, you’d just say nothing. Not how it made you feel. Not questions about why they never seemed to exist in the same space or talk … No, instead you learned not to say anything at all.”
She cleared her voice, her eyes fixating on me for the first time.
“Shawn, when information isn’t freely given, and you need to work to figure out why things are failing, that’s where you struggle. You assume instead of asking. You overthink instead of discussing. And you remain silent instead of speaking up.”
Her words were slow and decisive. “None of that makes you a bad person, and I know that you cared. But when I was there broken and throwing myself into work to feel better, you gave up without even a conversation. We didn’t even argue, because all that existed was silence and your dictation that we were done.
“You tried to do what was best for me, instead of just asking me what I needed. Instead of figuring out what you truly wanted, you made a one-sided decision instead of being my partner, and with it, you broke my heart.”
Rezi’s words bore down on me as I began to notice the curious glances of the other passengers on the boat. The Murillos, a couple models, and a few of their business associates from the dinner last night had accompanied us on this journey, but were hopefully in the back of the vessel, out of earshot. However, a few additional strangers were traveling through the river on our boat as well, and from the looks on their faces, they’d overheard and understood exactly what we said.
When I turned around, walking away slowly, she added, “That’s when I knew that I could never be with someone who gave up so easily. Life is too hard for that.”
I could feel the embarrassment rising within me as I completed my step. I hated to be in the spotlight, but even more than that, I hated strangers knowing my shit. Even the people closest to me —my family—often only knew certain parts of my life, compartmentalizing coming naturally. Until I met Rezi that is.
As I retreated toward the back of the boat, I let Ree’s explanation sink in deeper than feelings had allowed them to before. Her constant repeating of the word instead standing out in her language.
Nothing in her speech mentioned wanting to let me go, or vice versa. She said we’d ended because I gave up, and perhaps advocating for us was the only way I’d get her back. During this trip I’d been subtly working on reminding her how good we were together and how much I cared, but maybe that was only part of it.
Returning to the front of the boat, I saw a mixture of expressions on everyone’s faces as conversations ceased once more. Glances of sympathy, discomfort, and disappointment seemed to be revealed in them. Rezi must have walked the other way around for me not to see her.
Settling into the spot she’d vacated, I realized I still didn’t know exactly what to say if she had still been there. As my mind grew heavy with what-ifs, unvoiced questions, and Ree’s words, I struggled to peel back the layers of our failed relationship, each consideration a blade cutting through the lush greenery that lay before me. This river had taken me on a journey I hadn’t expected, and at present I was unsure where it led.
“I’m fine. It’s good. I’ll live,” I whispered to myself.