Rhinoceros Summer

by Jamie Thornton

  Caleb took the clients’ measure and decided the wife was the power person of the couple. She wore her white shirt tucked into tight khaki pants, which she tucked into well-oiled boots, shined nice and black. She wore a black leather belt and he’d bet money a wide-brimmed safari hat hid somewhere beneath her chair. Blonde, blue-eyed and tall. He bet she was a good shot. Her husband though. He was a cherry if Caleb ever saw one.

  Most people liked to think themselves tougher than they were in reality. Liked to believe they could stare down a charging two-ton hippo without flinching, but most people pissed their pants and ran.

  “How long till we leave?” the wife said, straightening the cuffs on her collared shirt.

  “Tomorrow first thing. Pack light but bring enough for a week that might turn into two,” Paul said.

  She nodded to her husband and the other persons around the table. The two of them rose. “We’ll be in our tent until then.”

  They left without bothering to share their names. The husband trailed after his wife’s booted steps.

  Caleb leaned back. The wood chair creaked under his shifting weight. “How many game licenses did they buy?”

  “All of them,” Paul said.

  4

  It was the hot time of day. Caleb and Lydia stood by one of the vehicles discussing the Burnhams as they waited for the safari party to load up for a day of tracking. The two of them hadn’t yet cleared the air about the kiss, or Lydia’s accusations, or Caleb’s running away. He was fine with that though, because she was starting to talk to him again. He planned to follow her lead this time.

  “I’m sorry about the way I acted,” Lydia said. “I’m sorry I made you leave.”

  “You didn’t—”

  She held up a hand. “Still, I am sorry. There are so many things I want to tell you.”

  “So tell me.”

  She smiled and shook her head.

  He wanted to try kissing her again. Wanted to pile on reasons for her to think well of him, but held back, afraid for it to turn out like last time.

  “I promised. I promise I will after we get back to Blue Nile,” she said.

  Caleb saw Paul motion to him from underneath the shade of an acacia tree. He reluctantly left Lydia’s side.

  “I’m worried about these two,” Paul said, nodding his head at Allen and Claire.

  “Why you telling me?”

  “You’re the only one I can trust. You’re a hunter, Caleb. You know it, I know it.”

  Caleb didn’t respond.

  Paul shifted among the leaves giraffes had not yet eaten.

  Caleb pictured how an adult giraffe would need to splay its legs to reach the leaf remnant. Maybe it required too much work, when food was still readily available in the branches. “All right. What do you need?”

  “Keep doing what you been doing but stay focused.”

  Caleb wondered if that was Paul’s way of remarking on Lydia but decided Paul meant what he said. There was something off about the couple. Through the tree branches, Caleb saw a group of vultures a few miles away. Probably circling the bait set out for the big lion M’soko had caught sight of weeks before.

  “All right,” Caleb said. “Isn’t that what I’ve done this entire time, is watch out for just about everyone here?”

  “I know it,” Paul said. “And I’m telling you I see the value in it.”

  Caleb didn’t know how to respond to the capitulation in Paul’s words, so he swept apart the branches and walked away.

  Later that day, Paul sighted Allen’s trophy antelope.

  Caleb traveled with the group to a herd of bachelors that milled some distance away from one lone male and fifteen does: the male’s harem.

  Paul gestured to the lone impala. “That’s a good trophy, Allen. Nice bait for a leopard hunt.”

  Allen nodded in agreement. He wiped the sweat off his already sunburned forehead with a pocket handkerchief that was fast becoming a dull brown.

  “I told you to bring a hat,” Claire said.

  “Easy to tell the difference between male and female here,” Paul said. “Only the males have horns. They fight for access to the females. The females don’t need horns since they always mate with the winning male.”

  Caleb stayed by Lydia’s side as she took a few establishing shots of the harem. He carried his gun by the barrel. Not that they needed four rifles to take this antelope, but they were in the bush. One never knew what lurked in the thorn thickets or amongst grass not yet pulverized by elephants. A person might set his target on one creature only to have another charge from the rear.

  Wind gusted, but the antelope grazed undisturbed. This was more than he could say for Allen. Even M’soko and Juja maintained a good meter’s distance from his sweating and sunburned body, his odor sure to alert the impala if another gust of wind blew in the wrong direction, which it might, since dark clouds signaled a rare dry season rain would soon arrive.

  Caleb caught a long look passed between Claire and Paul, and then Paul touched the small of her back. A small shock ran through Caleb. He knew that kind of touch. It was a lover’s touch. Intimate. Sometime during the last week Paul had slept with Claire. He knew his father could work fast, but messing around with Claire would only make things worse. Paul was the one who had warned Caleb to use caution, and now—

  Paul raised his hand, signaling the group to stop, and conferred with M’soko.

  They were maybe two hundred yards from the bachelor. The grass and thorn bushes grew taller than the impala’s belly, obscuring other members of the herd as they lowered their heads to feed. Caleb could barely see the three black stripes running down his rump and tail.

  “They’re deciding where to set Allen up for the shot,” Caleb explained to Lydia. She nodded, as if she knew what they were discussing. He realized she probably did. Hadn’t she been on several safaris by now? Dozens of hunts? He was the stranger here. More uncomfortable with a gun in his hand than Claire looked—holding hers as if she were the first white woman set to conquer savage lands.

  Paul indicated Allen should kneel to support the gun on his thigh. “Okay, Allen, set your shot up here. Take your time, get your sights focused and aim for the chest. We want a clean heart shot. Use your scope. Take your time.”

  Allen took his handkerchief out again, mopped his forehead and settled down.

  The rest of them crouched and listened to the sounds of buzzing insects in the rising humidity. They waited for Allen to take his shot. Another minute passed. Caleb bet himself that Allen would react to the recoil rather than keep his gun steady.

  The bang echoed through the valley. The herd of does and the separate group of bachelors leapt into the air as if bounced from a trampoline, some making it more than ten feet high before landing and zigzagging through the grass and into thicker brush.

  Out of sight and out of range.

  No ‘damn straight’ came from Paul’s lips, because the shot was a bad one. The group would need to track it and hope it collapsed before reaching cover too thick for a search.

  “You missed,” Claire said.

  “C’mon,” Paul said, “we’re gonna put it out of its misery.”

  Caleb waited for M’soko to locate the bloody trail. Once they caught up, they saw the impala shivering. It had folded into a small heap under a thick cover of bush.

  They came within fifty yards of the animal. “Take the shot,” Paul said.

  Embarrassment etched Allen’s every movement as he set up again.

  “I’ll do it.” Claire tossed her hat. It hung down her back by the string tied around her neck. She walked up to Allen and raised her rifle.

  “No,” Paul said. “This is Allen’s bait so it’s his shot.”

  Caleb observed the interplay of reactions with a careful eye. She kept her rifle leveled at the bleeding impala but didn’t shoot. It wasn’t just about the impala anymore.

  “It’s my shot, Claire,” Allen said. Though he looked like he would give anything for it
not to be.

  Caleb caught Lydia taking a snapshot out of the corner of his eye: Paul with a finger hooked in his bullet belt, Claire with her rifle raised and legs spread in a natural fighting stance, and Allen, crouched with his gun pointed at the dirt, looking like he wanted to crawl in and hide with the bloody impala.

  “Fine.” Claire backed away but kept her rifle raised. For a quick moment the loaded rifle pointed at Allen’s head.

  Caleb clenched the barrel of his own rifle. Paul yelled, “Safety on!”

  The impala struggled for a last leap he was too weak to accomplish.

  A shot sounded. The impala shuddered, and then lowered its head for the last time. Dead by Allen’s gun.

  5

  Caleb helped Paul hang the impala from a tree near where they planned to build a blind. Juja and M’soko cut branches from the tree for clear viewing of the hung bait.

  Next, Caleb pulled out a bag of sand from the Land Cruiser and helped Paul pour it around the base of the tree.

  They finished and Caleb wiped his hands on his pants. “Are you messing around with Claire?”

  Paul didn’t answer.

  “You want a shootout here? You gonna let them carry guns they feel free to point at us and you’re gonna sleep with the Ice Queen?” Caleb knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Paul always found someone. Either a watembezi girl from Arusha or one of the safari clients—there seemed to be more and more of them. A woman would come out, not to stay at the resort like Mary Hellerman, but do her own shooting and bag her own trophies.

  “Listen. I got something to say to you.”

  “I’m listening,” Caleb said, trying to imagine the wild explanation Paul was about to spit out.

  “I know I’ve made mistakes that maybe we’ll never be able to move beyond. I’ve made mistakes, but I did it for you and Abiba.”

  “You treated Neela like furniture,” Caleb said. “How do you think she was going to react? And then you set her up to be a prostitute and expect thanks for that?”

  “I meant to scare her. To keep her—to force her to find another way to live her life. That is what happened, isn’t it? Hasn’t she been in school all this time? Isn’t she getting her nursing degree? Isn’t she making something of herself? Who do you think cared enough to make all that happen?”

  Caleb didn’t want to admit Paul could be even a little bit right, but Neela had been falling in with a bad group of girls before going off to school. “You have a funny way of showing people you care about them.”

  “I know it.” Paul sighed. “Look, I can’t do anything about the past. About how things turned out. I would if I could.” He pulled a bullet from his belt and flipped it around his fingers.

  “What about Claire?”

  Paul moved into his fighting stance. “You know how it is out here. One time, that was it. It’ll be more money in the end anyway—now that she’s experienced all Africa has to offer.” Paul laughed and then lifted his hands in surrender. “All right. It was stupid. I know it. I couldn’t help it.”

  The anger in Caleb dampened. He saw his father for the first time as just a man. A man growing older, and lonelier, and trying hard to deny it.

  “Listen,” Paul said. “We’ll get everyone back safe and then I’ll open all my books to you. I’ve got some information that might help you find the elephants, or the rhino you’re looking for. You can have it. All of it.” Paul didn’t wait for Caleb’s response but nodded as if that was enough to seal the deal and walked off.

  A painful dizziness descended over Caleb. Thinking he was going to be sick, he hid behind a tree. Part of him wanted to believe his father meant what he said. That he understood how he had almost destroyed Caleb and Abiba and Neela’s lives, that he regretted it. That Paul would help Caleb do his job.

  When Caleb composed himself and returned to help, he saw Paul, Juja, and M’soko had finished clearing the area of bush and small trees. Claire was determined that Allen shoot nothing less than a 180 pounder. Though it was extremely rare to come across a leopard so big, Paul said they would give it a try and see what came to feed.

  “When does the blind go up?” Claire asked.

  “Not till the leopard feeds and we figure out if it’s big enough,” Paul said.

  “Rain is coming.” M’soko pointed to the graying afternoon sky.

  “Not till at least tomorrow,” Paul said.

  “Should we wait?” Allen said, checking out the clouds himself. “If you think we should wait till after the rains—”

  “If the rains come, it’ll be quick. No sense wasting the bait because of a little water,” Paul said.

  “Try to fake being brave, Allen. Try for me, okay?”

  Allen wilted under Claire’s words and then seemed to regain his composure. “I’m making sure, darling. Don’t want anything to go wrong on this trip.” He turned to Paul. “Whatever you think we should do is fine. I hope this leopard is big enough for her majesty.”

  “Just try not to miss this time, dear.”

  The entire group left and returned the following day. As hoped for, leopard prints littered the sand around the bait tree.

  “Tracks look big,” Claire said.

  Caleb couldn’t keep the mockery out of his voice. “You ever seen leopard tracks before?”

  She flipped her loose blonde hair around. Her wide-brimmed hat tumbled off. Paul put it back in place, without bothering to check if Allen was watching.

  Lydia leaned in close over the sand prints, took a shot, and then backed away from the conversation. Caleb thought how nice it would be to walk out of this conversation too.

  “What size leopard you think this is?” Claire said.

  “Pretty big. 160 pounds. 180 pounds—maybe,” Caleb said. “No way to know for sure until we see it.”

  They waited for Claire to decide if this leopard was big enough. Nobody looked to Allen for the answer. They all knew this was Claire’s decision.

  “Fine,” she said, “build the blind. We’ll let Allen take a shot.”

  “We’ll be setting up two blinds. One for me and Allen,” Paul said. “One for Claire and anyone else who wants to watch. Lydia will have space too. Haven’t gotten a leopard this big on camera yet.”

  Juja and M’soko began cutting down a patch of tall grass. Paul picked up some tools and handed one to Allen. “You can help us with this part. The blind needs to be finished by early afternoon, before the leopard wakes up and wants to feed.”

  “Will he actually come back? Won’t he smell that we’ve been here?” Allen asked.

  “As long as we’re quiet and he can’t see us, he’ll still come to feed,” Paul answered. “Leopards are possessive of their kills. A little human scent isn’t going to scare them unless they can see us. And even then, they might not run if you get one brave enough, or injured.”

  The men worked on building the blind. They threw up branches, twisted in leaves and grass to plug everything but the small window for watching the leopard’s return.

  Caleb left the group to collect another stack of branches. Steps rustled behind him. Thinking it was Lydia, he smiled and turned around, only to find Claire.

  Claire picked up a small branch from the ground and added it to his arms. “You’re his son, right?”

  Caleb didn’t respond.

  She stepped close to him so he could smell the vanilla perfume she wore. Her breath tickled his chin. Her hands rested on the stack of branches in his arms. “How about it?”

  He didn’t move other than to tighten his embrace of the branches. She nibbled his bottom lip, shooting pleasure through him.

  “You like making trouble,” he said in a strangled voice.

  She stared at him as if to say, so?

  He forced himself back one step. “One big bad bwana isn’t enough? You want father and son?” Just saying it left a bad taste in his mouth. Clients came in with their money and their self-righteousness. They shelled out maybe a year’s worth of income and expected to get anythi
ng they wanted. Usually a record-breaking lion, tall stories, but sometimes the trophies had nothing to do with the animals.

  “I like having fun. What’s his name…Jojo? He was fun. M’soko was not fun.” She pouted and then grinned.

  “You’re gonna hurt someone with your carelessness.”

  “You want to play or not?” She smiled at him, catlike, inviting him to touch her skin, feel her breast, take her like an animal while the guys worked on the blind for her husband.

  “You’re a sick woman. Maybe some people like that, but I find it disgusting.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “All you had to say was no. Figures anyway. I see how you look at that little girl with the camera.” She made a clucking noise with her mouth and rolled her eyes.

  Caleb cursed under his breath. She was the kind of woman who’d kiss your lips while watching your lifeblood pump out.

  “Hey!” Paul shouted. “Get over here and help with this.”

  Claire laughed as he ran away. “Maybe next time,” she called out.

  Caleb tossed down his pile of branches next to the blind and began lashing them to the screen. The half-eaten flesh of the impala swung in a short circle over the sand. The rope rubbed against the tree wood, making a groaning sound that became lost in a burst of wind.

  A single drop of rain landed on the back of Caleb’s palm.

  “Hurry up,” Paul said.

  6

  Caleb stayed in the second blind with Claire and Lydia. M’soko and Juja remained in the car, their tracking skills not needed unless Allen messed up the shot.

  As they waited for the leopard, Caleb watched the incoming clouds darken the sky. More drops fell. Lydia pulled out a cloth to cover her camera. Claire ignored them both.

  Caleb watched the leopard ascend the tree with ferocious power, then it tore through what was left of the impala. No matter how many times he’d witnessed it, the power in the leopard’s jaws and claws as it ripped through an animal always amazed him.