Uncivilized (Uncivilized 1)

"One afternoon, after a day of sailing with my friends, I was driving home... quite drunk, when I ran off the road and flipped my car into a wide ditch that was swollen with rainwater. I was knocked unconscious, and the car filled up fast. I would have surely drowned had it not been for a young man who saw the accident and managed to drag me out before that could happen."

Didn't seem like much of a miracle to me, but definitely a world of a good luck for him.

"That man was named Jacob Easton. He had just graduated bible college and was on his way to an early evening study group. Needless to say, I owed this man my life. I offered him money, but he wouldn't accept. I offered to buy him and his fiancee a house, but he politely declined. I offered him the world, and yet he wanted none of it. He only wanted a sincere thanks, which he got, and then he was fulfilled. He was convinced that God had put him on that road at that exact time of day so that he could save me."

Afraid that this story was, indeed, going to turn into some type of request for me to find God in the middle of the jungle, I couldn't help but saying, "I'm sorry, Randall, but the scientist in me doesn't view that as a miracle. Maybe coincidence, maybe luck, but I'm not sure about miracle."

"Ah, my dear Dr. Reed... that's not the miracle. Let me continue on."

I nodded my head at him, mentally calculating how much longer this meeting was going to take, because I'd heard nothing so far that would lead me to believe he had a project that I would be interested in.

"What developed over the next few years was an amazing friendship. While Jacob and I were very different--he was passionately following his call to the Lord, I was still a hedonist who was happy to make and spend my money. Still... we became very close, visiting each other and having long talks about God, life, and humanity."

Randall trailed off, and his eyes were reflecting a deep fondness for the man he was telling me about.

"He was my very best friend," Randall said sadly, and I didn't miss the past tense of his reference.

Clearing his throat, his voice became softer. "At any rate, Jacob married his college sweetheart, Kristen, and they became missionaries. They worked mostly with indigenous tribes in Brazil but went on a trip to Africa once."

Now my attention was perked, because he had said the words that put the conversation back on track.

Indigenous tribes.

"While they traveled in these countries for much of the year, whenever they came back to the States, they would come and spend a few weeks of vacation at my home with me. Our friendship grew even stronger. I was so honored when they got pregnant with their first child, and they asked me to be his godfather. You see... Jacob had been an orphan most of his life and bounced from foster home to foster home. Kristen's family pretty much disowned her when she married a man that carried her away to the dangerous jungles."

Randall took a moment to reach for his teacup, taking a tiny sip. When he set it back down, he told me, "While some missionaries are crazy enough to do their work while pregnant, Jacob wasn't keen on that. They lived with me until their son Zacharias was born, and then they bought a tiny house not far from where I lived. They stayed in the U.S. for three years, Jacob working as a day laborer, Kristen as a stay-at-home mom. And me? Well, I continued to amass my fortune but we spent much of our free time together. I would invite the Easton family to lavish parties I would throw, and they would invite me to their tiny little home for Sunday dinners. I watched little Zach grow, and I loved that boy like he was my own."

Randall stood abruptly from his chair and walked over to a huge cabinet against one wall. He opened it, reached inside, and pulled out a small box. When he returned, he chose to sit next to me on the couch.

Opening the box, he pulled out a stack of photos and started flipping through them.

"Here is Jacob, Kristen, and Zach when he was about a year old, I think."

I took the photo and stared at it. Jacob had blond hair and an easy smile. Kristen was very lovely with long, dark brown hair and pale eyes, although I couldn't tell the exact color. Zach was a cute kid... as far as kids go. I didn't have much experience with them, but he had the same dark hair as his mother and chubby baby cheeks.

Randall handed me another one. "This is when Zach was three years old."

This was a photo of whom I immediately recognized as Randall holding the toddler as they posed for a toothy smile at the camera.

"I cared for Zach on the first mission trip that Jacob and Kristen took after he was born. They didn't want to bring him to the jungle, and their trip was only three months long. They had no qualms about leaving him with me though... Zach called me 'Uncle Randall' and I was more than happy to do anything to help out my dear friends."

Randall and I took a moment to look at the other pictures, and I watched as Zach got progressively older. Randall told me that Jacob and Kristen made another trip to Brazil when Zach was five and, when they returned, they had told him that they felt he was old enough to go on the next one. They even talked about other missionaries having their entire families there, and he'd have plenty of other kids to play with.

"I was not keen on that idea. I knew Zach was their child, but we had grown extremely close, as sometimes Jacob and Kristen would be gone a few months at a time. But, it wasn't my place to say anything, and I dreaded the day that they would take him away on a trip."

By the tone of Randall's voice, I had a feeling this story was not going to have a happy ending.

"But they took him?" I guessed.

"Yes... when he was seven. And they were never heard from again."

My body jerked because I wasn't expecting that. I turned halfway on the couch to face Randall, and his face was so sad. "What happened?"

"No one knows. I spent considerable resources trying to find them, but it was difficult. Most of the tribes moved often, going deeper and deeper into the jungle as the rainforest was harvested. I sent a couple of expeditions with no luck. I then contacted every church and missionary organization with pleas for people to keep their eyes peeled. Nothing... not a single thing could I find out about them. Of course, I had feared the worse... that they had been killed by the Indians."

Taking a deep breath, Randall stood from the couch and turned to look down at me. "My life moved on, and my broken heart healed. I still kept fresh contacts with missionary groups, sending written requests for help, but after a few years, I gave up hope. I assumed they were dead."

"But they're not, are they?" I asked because now I was starting to understand what the miracle was.

Randall gave me a small smile. "Sadly... Jacob and Kristen are dead. Killed by dengue fever. I was contacted by a Catholic priest by the name of Gaul a few months ago... right before I contacted you... who has been ministering to the Caraica tribe that live in the northwest portion of Amazonia. He lived his entire priesthood in the rainforest but unfortunately suffered a terrible broken leg. While he was convalescing in a hospital in Sao Paolo, he learned of my search for the Eastons. Another priest had apparently visited him and just in a random discussion, the other priest had asked Father Gaul if he had any knowledge of the Eastons."

"And he did," I butted in, because I was starting to get excited.

"Indeed... he had been working with the Caraicans and he said that there was a white man living there as one of the tribesman, who was twenty-five years old and went by the name Zacharias."

"Jacob and Kristen's son is alive... after all these years," I said with awe.

"Yes... Zach is alive and has been living with the Caraican tribe. But I want him to come home. He's my godson and the closest thing I have to a child. I want him to have a different life."

Shaking my head, I couldn't imagine the implications of this situation. An American child having first been raised here, then spending eighteen years living in abject poverty and in an entirely strange culture, now coming back to live in a modern world?

My head was spinning.

"I need your help, Dr. Reed. I want you to travel with Father Gaul to Brazil, and I want you to bring Zach home. Then I want you to help him acclimate. You're the only one I've found that has the skill set to do that. He needs someone that understands the cultural differences and how to learn them. I need you to help civilize him."

"Zach's not happy to be here," Randall said, breaking into my memories.

I give him a kind smile. "He's not, but let's give him a chance. He's been acclimating well, and I think he's even found some small joys in his time here."

At least, I think he enjoyed his time with me... when he was fucking me so hard I had rug burns on my knees.

"I want to invite you both to stay for as long as you like. I know you have several months off from your teaching post."

"I do, and I'll stay for as long as Zach wants to, or for as long as I'm needed."

"How hard has it been on him?" Randall asks.

"Actually, he's adjusting amazingly well. He remembers a lot of things from his childhood. Certain foods, words, and customs. He got lost the other day when he went out on a walk and recognized that a police officer was someone you could trust. The officer brought him back to my home. He's smart, inquisitive, and soaks things up like a sponge."

"Excellent," Randall says with pride. "I'd expect no less of him, though. He was such a bright boy."