Life Blood ---XXI---Page No--68

discovered a hallucinogenic substance they have here, began

using it heavily, and I think it tipped her into a form of dementia."
        So, she was doing drugs, something I'd always secretly
feared. Well, maybe she was still having flashbacks of some kind;
maybe that explained why she was off in another world when she
came out of her coma.

"What . . . kind of 'hallucinogenic substance'?"

He sighed then shrugged and answered. "Here in the rain forest there's an ugly three-pound toad the Bufo marinus—you'll see them around, near sunset—that has glands down its back that excrete a milky white poison."

I knew about them. They were migrating north now, even into Florida. They were huge and looked like Jabba the Hutt in Star Wars. I hate toads of all varieties, but the thought of those
monsters made me shudder.

"My God, isn't their toxin lethal?" Was Sarah trying to destroy
herself? Was that why her mind was so blitzed? "I've heard—"
        "Yes, it can kill you, but it can also—if processed correctly, with
fermented honey—give you truly supernatural visions. The
classical Maya used it for ceremonial purposes. I'd managed to
reconstruct how they prepared it, and—something I now deeply
regret—I showed the shamans here how to replicate the
procedure. At the time it was just a minor part of my research into
traditional pharmacology, but she heard about it and persuaded
them to give her a vial. Then more and more."

That did sound like Sarah. Always out on the edge, testing
new realities. But then I thought a moment about what he'd
actually said. Some of the people here in his "place of miracles"
were doing heavy drugs, and she'd got caught up in it.
        "But why didn't you stop her?" You unfeeling bastard.
        "I tried, believe me. But I'm afraid she was far past listening to
 me. By then she was learning the Kekchi Maya dialect, becoming
totally immersed in their world. She began having episodes of
complete non-rationality, and then one day she told the women in
her compound she was going over to Palenque, the Maya ruins in
Mexico. It's where the classical Maya held their last kingship
ceremony. Before anyone realized she was serious, she stole one
of their cayucos, their mahogany dugout canoes, and headed
down the Rio Tigre." His eyes had turned completely dark, the
way he used to blank them out. "She just went missing. Everyone
here was devastated. We all loved her."

I stood there weighing his story. It didn't ring true. I supposed she was capable of something that crazy, but would she have actually done it? I didn't think so.

Then I remembered something else he'd said.

"You said you proposed an 'agreement.' What was that
about?"

He stared at me. "It's nothing that need concern us. Suffice to
say I kept my part. Anyway, it's over and past now."
        Why wouldn't he tell me? Did she make some bargain with
the Devil?

"But regarding Sarah," he went on, "I only just learned she'd
been found and brought to New York in a coma. Wanting to do
what I could, I immediately called the hospital and, out of
professional courtesy, they told me she'd shown early stages of
coming out of it, but she appeared to be hallucinating. It was
exactly what I'd feared. . . ." His voice trailed off. "I hope I did the

right thing, but when I learned she'd been released, I arranged for
her to be brought back here, where perhaps I can do something
for her."

"What?"

"In rare cases, the hallucinogen she took permanently alters
critical synapses in the brain. I'm fearful she may have abused it
to the extent something like that could have occurred. No one in
the U.S. would have the slightest idea what to do, but I think I may
know of an herbal antidote they turned to in ancient times that can
repair at least part of the damage. I also knew that getting her

back here through normal channels would be impossible."

"So you had Colonel Ramos and a bunch of his Guatemalan thugs just break in and take her?" I didn't know which part of the story horrified, and angered, me the most.

"I have the misfortune to know him reasonably well, and

I explained it was very important to me, and he agreed to assist. I
honestly didn't know where else to turn. I understand there may
have been some violence, for which I apologize, but these people
have their own way of doing things." He rose and came over and
put his hand on my shoulder. "I hope you'll understand."

The son of a bitch was coming on oily and contrite, when he'd
just subcontracted an outright kidnapping. I wanted to kill him.
        Finally I walked away, trying to get a grip on my anger.
        "You know, that bastard also broke into my apartment and
 stole a reel of a picture I'm shooting." I turned back. "I've also got