The Corleone Christ — and beyond.

Looking up from their lines, they noticed the bow of a canoe silently making its way through the early morning mist. The heads of the boats occupants appeared to float above the line of fog; the rhythm of the blades of the paddles dipped, fore and aft, above and below the surface of the river.

In these days of little rain, the children were standing on what was once the river’s bed. Every year the mighty river was shrinking from its original bank. At first, the rainforest had mysteriously spoken in a faint, dry whisper. But now it growled desperately from deep inside its parched throat.

The children’s elders often spoke to them in these last days, saying, “You younger ones, you are the future. If the forest dies, we people, and the sacred jaguar will die. Our Mother has spoken to us of this time, saying, ‘First your people must prepare and build to survive. Then, when the people living in the cities and towns all over the world beyond, choke and die, I will help you rebuild our planet together as my human children.’ And so, this has been spoken to all the people who have known the land since we left Africa and discovered all the lands across all the Earth.”

Catching no fish, the children became bored.

First, they began shouting and waving as the canoe came closer. The travellers, however, remained silent. As their paddles pulled and sucked, they sent eddies of water, swirling behind them.

The children’s mood intensified.

Without speaking, each one dragged in their lines.

In their downheartedness, the oldest boy chivied his friends, “C’mon, let’s see who is the fastest today!”

After some grumbling, they decided the starting line; the finishing line would be a patch of scrubland about a hundred metres away. Their leader loudly proclaimed, “The winner will be served the best food as ‘King’ or ‘Queen’ for the day.”

Lining up, then counting down from ten to one, they set off!

Tema pumped her long legs and went into the lead. She was always faster than anyone. Then, glancing back over her shoulder to judge her lead, she became distracted by the sight of the canoe. Catching her breath, she slowed to a standstill, while the others overtook her, they laughed, calling, ‘Te’pe!’ (meaning, weakling).

Shading her eyes from the Sun’s glare reflecting from the river’s surface, Tema looked toward the dugout. Two men paddled, one at the front, the other at the rear. A darker skinned man, smiled towards her showing three broken front teeth. He knelt upright, with a straight back and, free from the exertion of paddling, rested a rifle against his shoulder, the barrel pointing skywards. Tema had seen men like this before; men who her elders said looked out for illegal gold miners.

It was, however, the sight of the older man on board that had first fascinated Tema and stopped her racing.

He was grey-haired and sat cushioned, shaded from the sunlight under a blue and red striped umbrella. From where she stood on the dry riverbed, Tema observed his pale, white skin. He wore a blue suit and a yellow tie which lay flat against his crumpled green shirt. A Stetson rested comfortably on his head.

As if stirring from a dream, Tema heard the silence between the men break. The ‘lookout’ sent out a deep throated chuckle, echoing across the river. Then, as the canoe levelled, she saw him reposition his rifle, across his knees.

Suddenly, she felt the ‘lookout’s’ eyes piercing into her own; his facial expression had straightened from its toothy grin. Tema saw him lean forward and whisper something into the white man’s ear.

“Hey, Frank! See the girl staring at me? Can I take her down?”

The older man turned, looked briefly at Tema, then nodded. Then, the dark-skinned man lifted the rifle butt to his shoulder and swung the barrel towards her.

Tema’s face, distorted in fear! She turned, screamed, then ran scrabbling, zig zagging toward the scrubland where her friends had raced to. Behind her, she heard the ‘lookout’ laughing loudly. Then, enjoying the moment she heard him bellowing at her, ‘RUN! RUN! RUN!’