The boat pulled into the shore at Shiringa, a little village much like the community Linorio had started decades before. Molly had never been here, but it looked familiar. It had an easy, relaxed atmosphere and people were milling around, chatting or playing ball games.
As promised, Bob had contacted Jamie, who met them at the little dock. He was pleased to see visitors. He chatted enthusiastically as he led them to the hut they would be staying in. It was an annex to Jamie’s house, with two tiny rooms and a basic bathroom. Most of the external walls were fly-screen mesh, so it felt like a huge tent.
They ate dinner with the family: river fish, vegetables and rice, and then sat out on the porch where Jonathan told the story of the pirate attack. Jaime was completely perplexed by the young boys who had ambushed the boat, but he too had heard reports.
"There is something going on," he said. "There have been some strange things happening the past five or six years, but we can't put a finger on it. As if we didn't have enough to look out for from the jungle itself."
Jonathan laughed, but the comment left him only more nervous.
They said their goodnights and walked through the darkness to their rooms. Jonathan pointed out fireflies in the dense trees which glowed, not just from their wings, but also with their bright green eyes. A massive toad hopped over and looked at them and a bat swooped past, nearly clipping its wings on them.
In the safety of their little rooms, Molly and Jonathan fell asleep to the songs of the night-time animals and birds. The jungle orchestra.