Forest of the Pygmies(42)
Recently Alexander had experienced more rudely than ever the hormonal explosions of adolescence that most teenagers suffer at an earlier age. His body was his enemy; it would not leave him in peace. His grades at school had dropped, he wasn't keeping up with his music, and even the climbing excursions with his father to the mountains, which had been such a basic part of his life, now bored him. He suffered fits of melancholy and fought with his family, and later, remorseful, didn't know how to make peace. He did everything clumsily, tangled in a morass of conflicting emotions. He moved from depression to euphoria in a matter of minutes; his feelings were so intense that at times he seriously asked himself whether it was worth the pain to go on living. In moments of deepest pessimism he believed that the world was a disaster and that the greater part of humanity was hopelessly stupid. Although he had read books about adolescence, and it had been thoroughly discussed in school, he was suffering as if he had an incurable illness. "Don't worry, we've all gone through the same thing," his father consoled him, as if he had no more than a cold. But Alexander was eighteen, and he wasn't getting any better. He could barely communicate with his parents; at times they drove him crazy. He thought of them as being from another era; everything they said sounded out of date. He knew that they loved him unconditionally, and he was grateful to them for that, but he was convinced that they couldn't possibly understand him.
The only person he could share his problems with was Nadia. In the coded language he used in his e-mails, he could describe the things happening to him and not feel embarrassed, something he wasn't able to do in person. She accepted him as he was and never judged him. She read his messages without offering an opinion, because in truth she didn't know what to answer; her worries were different ones.
Alexander felt that his obsession with girls was ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. A word, a gesture, brushing past a girl, was all it took to fill his head with images and his heart with desire. The best treatment was exercise: He surfed winter and summer in the Pacific. The shock of the icy water and the marvelous sensation of skimming over the waves brought back the innocence and euphoria of childhood, though that state of mind did not last very long. The trips with his grandmother, on the other hand, kept him distracted for weeks. He was able to control his emotions in front of her, and that gave him a little hope. Maybe his father was right, and this madness would not last forever.
?
Ever since they had met in New York at the beginning of this trip, Alexander had looked at Nadia through new eyes, although he excluded her completely from his romantic fantasies. He couldn't imagine her in that light; he thought of her in the same way he thought of his sisters, with a pure and possessive affection. His role was to protect Nadia from anyone who might do her harm, especially other males. Nadia was pretty—at least he thought so—and sooner or later there would be a swarm of guys hitting on her. He would never allow all those drones to get near her; the mere idea made him frantic. He was aware of Nadia's body, the grace of her movements, and the concentration of her expression. He liked her coloring: the dark blond hair, the toasty skin, the eyes golden as hazelnuts. An artist could paint her portrait with a minimal palette of yellow and chestnut. She was different from him, and that intrigued him: her physical fragility, which hid great strength of character, her quiet way of listening, the way she harmonized with nature. She had always been reserved, but now she seemed mysterious. He was enchanted to be near her, to touch her occasionally, but it was much easier to communicate with her from a distance. When they were together, he bumbled and stumbled; he didn't know what to say to her and had begun to weigh his words. It seemed that sometimes his hands were too heavy, his feet too big, his voice too domineering.
Sitting there in the darkness, surrounded by the tombs in a centuries-old Pygmy cemetery, Alexander felt the nearness of his friend with painful intensity. He loved her more than anyone in the world, more than his parents and all his friends put together. He was afraid of losing her.
"Tell me more about how you like New York. Are you enjoying living with my grandmother?" he asked, just to start a conversation.
"Your grandmother treats me like a princess, but I miss my father."
"Don't go back to the Amazon, Eagle. It's too far away; we can't keep in touch."
"Come with me," she said.
"I'll go wherever you want, but first I have to get through med school."
"Your grandmother says that you're writing about our adventures in the Amazon and in the Kingdom of the Golden Dragon. Will you also be writing about the Pygmies?" Nadia asked.
"It's just notes, Eagle. I don't pretend to be a writer; I'm going to be a doctor. I got the idea when my mother was ill, and I made up my mind that time in the Himalayas when I watched Tensing heal your shoulder with needles and prayers. I realized that science and technology aren't enough to make someone well; there are other, equally important, factors. Holistic medicine. That's what I want to do," Alexander explained.
"Don't you remember what the shaman Walimai told you? He said that you have the power to cure people, and that you should use that gift. I think you will make the best doctor in the world," Nadia assured him.
"And what about you? What do you want to do when you finish school?"
"I'm going to study the language of animals."