It's late but that's cool. I'm posting it anyway. Who doesn't love Alfred Molina?
The forest was always Satipo's greatest love. His mother warned him endlessly of its perils, but he paid no mind. It was his true home, and the dense, earthy smell moved him to peace better than any lullaby sung in his ear. He grew up watching the monkeys play and the ants build, learning to hide among the wide leaves when the hiss of a boa passed through. He would munch on Anon and tomatoes and listened to the raucous cacophony of the birds above him. Sometimes his brother, Barranca, would be with him, his bow braced and ready if game came through. His favorite was capybara, and it would feed them for a week, with its roasted haunches serving as dinner that night.
His father had died long ago in a trading raid, and his mother was left to raise him in his brother. She left the village, worrying about her safety being alone, and her sons, if any many should try to claim her and want to rid themselves of a complication of their lineage. They lived slimly, but made do, and celebrated their own holidays with banana flat cakes and games their mother taught them. Every now again they would go to the village and she would trade for books, and teach them a bit about the world.
Her best item to trade was her locally famous version of Chicha, which she consumed herself in copious amounts. Their mother was a depressed woman, morose and generally lost without her husband. Barranca taught him most of his life lessons, filling in the weeks long void between his mother's trips to trade.
As they grew in height and strength they also grew in prosperity. Barranca's prowess with a bow and Satipo's knowledge of the forest gave them an edge many other guides couldn't match, mostly because they simply wouldn't survive along with their parties. The popularity of South American tourism was just beginning to boom, and they found themselves busier than they had ever imagined possible. The girls in the village eyed them hungrily to their mother's ever growing delight. She would complain of ails and they would help her home, so as to stay as long as possible making eyes at the muscular and wealthy teens.
Barranca would take his pick, or picks depending on how heavily his mother's chicha flowed, and send them home with hopes and smiles. None of them seemed to care, feeling even just his momentary attention more than they could hope for. Satipo abstained. He often berated his brother, calling him foul insults for how he used these women. He hated what he could not do, for he knew if he touched a single hair of any woman's head other than his Naida she would never consent, on his twenty-first birthday, to be his. So instead he expired his youthful fervor in his heated attack of his brother and length treks into the forest.
Barranca sired many children, but finally settled down with a surprisingly simple looking girl from a very large and poor family. Gaby waited on him like a chieftain in return, and also gave him a child a year, for which Barranca gave her a surprisingly gentle fidelity and also a large home built upon a three large trees. They and their children lived with the birds and the monkeys and Barranca and Satipo's mother, who served as nurse and caregiver and chicha maker.
As promised, on the eve of Satipo's twenty-first year, Naida relinquished herself to him. Until that point, she had seemed a goal, a destination that nothing but time could reach, but that night, swaying in the hammock with stars shining through the canopy of the trees and night sounds lulling them into sleep, Satipo found his one true love. The forest had turned itself into a woman, and she lay in his arms, her breathing light, he body warm, and he smelled her beautifully scented hair and kissed her soft skin and felt tears unbidden fall down his cheeks and watched them roll across the round of her shoulder down her neck and into her soul.
Within a year they welcomed a daughter, which they named Carito after his mother, and together they taught her the forest and showed her the wonders of their small, full world.
Many years went by in a happiness both the brothers felt undeserved, but soon they would find their fortune's balance.
They continued to be successful guides throughout the years, and also, Barranca particularly, continued to develop their mother's love of chicha. Both of their wives became successful inheritors of their mother's recipe, and when their mother passed, her endless fountain of chicha never paused. They were titans in their village an without, their guiding territory larger and more prosperous than many metropolitan regions of their country.
Unfortunately, their wealth was mostly in food and trade, and money itself was still small in quantity. Though they undoubtedly had more than their neighbors, it still existed in a small, lock-box, hidden in a hollow tree, and amounted to about one month's pay at an American diner. So when Naida became ill with a Western disease, and her only chance depended on her receiving long-term care at American Clinicas in Lima, desperate measures became imperative.
The brother knew not to go to Hovito territory. They always warned curious tourists away from the area and never traveled there themselves. But when they checked into Machete Landing and asked about big jobs, a Frenchman approached them with a offer Satipo simply couldn't refuse.
"There is to be an American," he said, "who will want to go to the Hovito temple. He is very good. Very brave, and will steal the idol. If you steal the idol from him, and kill him, I will give you this."
He opened a briefcase, stuffed with more francs than they could possibly know what to do with. It would cover his wife's stay, give both of them enough to retire, and maybe even allow him to build a clinicas of his own in their village. Satipo smiled. He would name it after his wife.
Who cared about an American, anyway.
Satipo and Barranca from Raiders of the Lost Ark.