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Chapter 9

Crysha, Jocio, and Pardal



Do you not know that we will judge angels?

Paul, the apostle, to the Corinthians 6:3


Abelard realized that he had come back to the Amazon Rainforest.  However, in that very moment, he did not know how to re-enter into the world where he had been born. It was as if he belonged more to the land he had found in the roots of his being, before the Great Waters drowned the planet, than to the Amazon.  He thought, “Coming back is more difficult than leaving, especially when you are coming from a greater world”!

He kept quiet; he was not in a rush to know who those people were. He would take his time to know where he was because physical places were not important to him. He had always found that dimensions were more important than places or locations.

Little by little, he embraced himself. He was silently accepting that he was coming back.  He thought that if he did that rapidly he could erase emotions or memories.  For Abelard, keeping these emotions and memories was the only way to guarantee his access to both worlds.

“Are you feeling better?  We thought that we would not have the pleasure of fully meeting you.  We had the impression that your condition was worse than the fever itself and that his deliriums were more real than this world”, the woman said.

“What place is this and where is Isaac Porto?” Abelard asked.

“This is Nasa Lhi Myak, one of the islands by the Urubu River.  Isaac Porto is trying to find a way to take you out of here”, the tall man with a boy’s face said.

“Who are you?”

“I am Jocio Arruda.”

“I am Crysha and the giant who told you about Isaac’s whereabouts, is Mr. Pardal.”

“What are the three of you doing here?” – Abelard asked.

“We are part of a scientific expedition to study this region.  We research new drugs made from roots and leaves.”  – Crysha answered.

“You mean biodiversity, right?  And what is your area of specialization?” – Abelard asked.

“I am paleontologist & bio-pharmacist, a long word, I know.  I am searching not only for new healing components but I also try to find out what native people use for healing. Crysha is a designer of interiors and she has a special connection with nature.  She is very sensitive and she knows when the trees are suffering or if the gathered material will be useful” – Jocio concluded while Crysha began an explanation.

“People think I am a sorcerer just because I have this natural gift.  I have this gift and that’s all.  I can also feel certain energies; for example, I can foretell that you carry a lot of strong memories, right?” Crysha asked.

“No, you are not wrong.  But tell me, what about you Mr.  Pardal, what are you doing here? Abelard asked.

“My business is information technology and analysis of chemical substances.  Crysha touches and sort the samples while Jocio classifies them in order to understand their natural history and application.  I analyze the samples and break them down chemically.”

“How long have you been here?” Abelard asked.

“We arrived here six months ago; however, it seems like a lifetime for me.  Sometimes I wonder if I was born here” – Crysha said in her mystical way.

“I was born in the Amazon, but I left the region a long time ago. Nevertheless, I carry the forest in my heart. – Abelard said, wondering if they knew if Isaac Porto was to come back.

“I guess he will not loiter.  By the end of the afternoon he will be back.”  – Mr. Pardal said confidently.

“Are your spiritual beliefs influenced by religion or by native people?  – Crysha asked in a sweet attitude while running her fingers through her black hair.

“I am influenced by many things but I use the Book of the Books as a reference”.  Abelard said.

“I know that you are tired, but could you tell me more about that?”

Abelard did not wait much to answer Crysha’s question.  As if those days of fever had meant nothing, he exclaimed one of his favorite poems:



It is hereby decreed

that now what counts is truth,

that now what counts is life

and that, hands joined,

we will all work for what life really is.



It is hereby decreed

that Man will never more doubt Man.

That Man will trust Man,

like the palm tree trusts the wind,

like the wind trusts the air,

like the air trusts the blue field of the sky.



It is hereby decreed

that men are free of the yoke of Lies,

that none will ever have to wear

the armor-plate of Silence,

the weapons of Words.

Man will sit at the table

with a pristine eye

for he will be served Truth

before dessert.



The permanent reign of Justice and Clarity is,

by irrevocable decree, hereby established,

and happiness will be a generous flag

forever waving in the people's soul.



The use of the word 'Freedom' is hereby prohibited,

and will be struck from every dictionary

and from the deceptive mires of the mouth.


Freedom will be something living and transparent,

like a fire or a river,

like a grain of rice,

and its home will always be

within the heart of Man.




Abelard recited the poem with all his heart. Everybody was visibly choked with emotion. The words of the poem sounded like decrees of life.


“Who is the author of these verses?” Mr. Pardal asked.


“This poem is by Thiago de Mello, a friend of the Rainforest’s,” Abelard said.


“Abelard, my friend, you must eat. I have been feeding you with caldo de caridade (typical soup from the Northern/Northeast of Brazil) for three days. It is time for solid food, though. You’ve got to eat now,” Crysha decreed.


Abelard sat in bed slowly. He looked around and observed the house. He said that the house was of extremely good taste. It was made of branches, grass, rushes, and small pieces of Wood. He immediately remembered Ayal and Maalalael, their friendship, their world and their place that looked more like a nest than a house properly said.


“You look at this house as if you were in another one.” Crysha said.


“It is true, Crysha. For me, space and time do not exist. Some things are so distant from one another and yet they seem to exist one inside the other,” confessed the homesick Abelard.


“I guess that we will get along well and that we will be able to share even the most bizarre feelings. We can be in two different worlds at the same time.”  Jocio said.


Jocio is right, there are other worlds. Crysha’s world is that of the intuition while Jocio’s is made of plants and microscopic beings that can be seen through historic lens. My world is made of computer programs, which are part of another reality.” Mr. Pardal said.


“What is your world Abelard?  – Crysha asked coquettishly.


“My world? Well, I do not know what my world is.


“I see, but now my friend, open your mouth to eat this exquisite grilled tambaqui (Amazon fish).  “Eat it now!”  Crysha said, imposing her natural authoritative style, which is common in women in general.


He ate very slowly.  Despite the fever, his senses were very keen.  The grilled fish tasted superb.  Afterwards, he lay in his hammock and slept for some hours.  When he woke up, he said that he wanted to take a shower.  Crysha said that a quick bath was recommended. When Abelard heard Crysha talk about the fever, he felt like being embraced by her.  For him, that fever was a kind of passport to a more realistic existence, or at last, in his perception, to a more serious world.  Despite that, he did not bathe in the cold water of that small tributary of the Urubu River, certain that eventually it would be inevitable.


“Crysha, the river is calling me, but I will follow your advice: no diving in the river for now.  I can do that later if you allow me to” Abelard said.


Crysha smiled as if she knew what was going on in Abelard’s mind.  She stared at him and said:


“Don’t you dare deceive me!  I know what your intention is.  Don’t you dare dive or you fever may come back, my friend!”


She was actually a stunning woman, a short brunette with a thin waist, long hair, fleshy lips and perfect legs.   She would walk here and there next to Abelard until their eyes met.  Crysha clearly felt embarrassed at the visitor’s look.  She smiled and withdrew her eyes from his.  However, she became agitated, walking nervously while she cleaned the kitchen.  She looked at him and sighed. 


“You are gorgeous” – Abelard said, looking steadily into her eyes. Her beauty impressed him.


“Do you appreciate female beauty?”  Crysha asked, her eyes shining.


“I sure do. But I also know people who just ignore female beauty.”  Abelard said.


“What do you mean?” Crysha asked back.


“There is too much guilt; the fallen angels took us to two extreme points.  One is the body worshiping and the other is the negation of beauty.  I am religious and among my brothers and sisters there are too many people traumatized at beauty.  ” Abelard Explained.


“Like the fallen angels? Do angels like beauty?”


“Well, this is a long story”, Abelard said.


“I am curious.  Tell me about that”, Crysha said


“Ok, I can tell you something.”


“Please!” Crysha begged.


“Saint Paul advised about the enchantment that women exerted over the fallen angels.  He said that to the women from Corinth, a seashore city.” Abelard explained.


“It was in Greece, at the Peloponnesus peninsula, wasn’t it? Crysha asked.


“Yes it was” continued Abelard.  Sex was such a strong aspect of the local culture that the Temple of Aphrodite, in Acropolis, was inhabited by sacerdotal prostitutes, offered as intermediary between gods and men.”


“I’ve got it.  The link was complete only if they were possessed!”  – Crysha said.


“Such was the attraction between women and angels that the Apostle said: So a woman should wear a covering on her head as a sign of authority because the angels are watching.


“What is the meaning of the veil?” Crysha asked.


Exousia is a Greek word”, explained Abelard.  “It means authority.  In this case, it means submission and fidelity from women to their husbands.”


“Is this a unanimous interpretation?  Crysha asked.


”No, it is not unanimity, in fact, some people object to this. Abelard explained.


“You said you are religious, so tell me: Do you think that the creator wanted beauty to be appreciated?  – Crysha asked with a soft voice and an insinuating look.


“Sure, nothing is to be wasted in creation.  Even the organs in the human body occupy spaces esthetically disorganized. Did you notice that?” Abelard asked.


“Do you mean that, inside the body, the order or the position of the organs is different?


“If you consider, for instance, the location of the heart in the human body.” Abelard said.


“The heart is not in the center of the body, like many other organs, but does it matter anyway?” Crysha asked.


Abelard explained, “The rules of the interior of the body are comfort and functionality while the external silhouette of the body is guided by beauty.  There is an implicit message here; do you know what it is?” Abelard asked.


Crysha, showing some interest for Abelard, said “No, I do not have the slightest idea”


“The Creator outlined all shapes and contours to impress the eyes and made the eyes to appreciate the contours” – Abelard said with a look of thankful contemplation while looking at Crysha.


“How lovely, both parts are integrated,” Crysha said.


“Let me just detail something: appreciation and recognition are completely different from lasciviousness and coveting.” Abelard said.


“I do not see any difference!” Crysha said.


“But there is a huge difference!” Abelard replied.


Crysha smiled but did not say a word; she had chores to do.  Abelard, however, decided to go for a stroll in the forest.

While walking, he meditated about what was going on.  He felt like sharing those things with them as he had done with Isaac Porto before. He had the feeling that Isaac Porto understood him because Isaac was from the Rainforest too.


On the other hand, he had the feeling that he was not among that group of selected people by accident. There was certainly a connection between all those facts. Anyway, he decided not to anticipate anything. Things must happen naturally, he thought. He would not impose his will.


At night, they ate ethnic food made by Crysha, who was already skilled at cooking Amazonian food. Abelard took a nap and took advantage of being ill to meditate about his life.


Jocio lit a woodfire and invited everyone to sit around it to chat. Little-by-little, everyone sat comfortably around the fire.


“Isaac is lasting too long”, Abelard said.


“Do not worry; he will be here in a while. All places are far away from here. It seems that the world here is bigger.  Pardal said, without noticing that he was offering advice to an expert. After all, Abelard was from that region.


“Big? Man, this is huge! This place is richer in quantities than any other place of the world”, Jocio said. He actually meant the microscopic world.


Crysha added, “This place has the most intense natural vibrations in the whole planet”. I can even feel the joy of this creation.


“Crysha likes the mystical world”, Jocio said. He was worried that Abelard would take Crysha as extremely mystical.


“Cool”, Abelard said.


“It seems to me that nature is applauding its creator, and so will I”, Crysha said.


“It is like a big Cathedral for me too; as if this was a ritual,” Abelard said.


“You hit the point. It is like being embraced by the life that comes from all sides” – Crysha said, without fearing being misinterpreted. For her, that was the only way of seeing life.


At that point, Abelard was sure that those people had soul enough to understand him. He also started thinking that his return to the forest had a purpose other than fever.


At that very moment, in the darkness, they heard Isaac Porto’s voice. They saw his canoe approaching slowly.


Before leaving the canoe and dragging it to the beach, he screamed, “Here I am folks, is Abelard awake?”


“Here! I went far away but I came back.” 


“Has the world ended?”  The caboclo asked. “Did you see Mr. Philim and Mr. Gnocchi?”


“No, the world is just beginning,” Abelard said.


“I beg your pardon, what do you mean, man?” Crysha asked.


“I will not tell you, miss. You should ask Abelard about that”, Isaac replied.


Curiosity arouse among the group. Nobody said a word but everybody stared at Abelard like people in an Austrian theater waiting for an opera show to start.

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