Rhinoceros Summer

by Jamie Thornton

  She knew he was lying but felt grateful anyway. “Thank you,” she said, keeping her head down.

  “Lydia, I want—”

  She held up her hand. “Not until I get to take a shower.”

  “Okay.” He smiled. “When do you get a shower?”

  She couldn’t help letting out a laugh.

  “I didn’t know—” He went silent. “Put your hands down, Lydia.”

  “If you’re going to stay then you can help me try to stand up.”

  Caleb shook his head.

  She waved her bandaged hand in front of his face. “I’m not going to let Paul steal my pictures.”

  “What about your parents? They’re not going to let you do much of anything once they find out what’s happened.”

  “I’ll manage my parents.” Even as she spoke the words, Lydia wondered if she really had that kind of courage. When it came down to it, wouldn’t she do exactly what her parents wanted her to? She stared out the one hospital window and saw a tree branch move across the glass pane. “How are we going to get the pictures back?”

  “I am going to figure out where Paul is.”

  “We find Mr. Hellerman and we’ll find Paul and my pictures,” she said, sounding surer of herself than she felt.

  Caleb sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Lydia wondered how long it would take for her to do something like that without pulling stitches.

  “It’s not that easy. Wherever Paul went, his tracks are pretty well covered, at least for right now. Jack says he doesn’t know anything about where Paul went.”

  “He must be lying,” Lydia said. The injustice of the situation renewed her strength. She struggled to her feet, and then fell back onto the bed when pain shot through her thigh.

  “I think you should go home,” Caleb said. “I rescheduled your flight.”

  “Stop protecting me. I’m not some stupid little pet that has to be watched all the time.”

  “Really?” Caleb’s gaze fell to her bandaged hand.

  “I’m just trying to help you.”

  “If you want to help me, find Paul.”

  Heat flushed Caleb’s cheeks. “You think I don’t want to find him and make him pay for letting you track that leopard? You think I don’t care that my father killed Claire, almost got you killed, stole your pictures, and threatened the life of a game officer? Green hunted the rhino behind my back? I may not have lost any fingers, but I’ve damn well lost everything else.”

  Lydia immediately felt ashamed. She had gotten herself into this mess and caused Caleb a great deal of pain along the way. Her injuries, Paul’s theft, they were no one’s fault but her own.

  “Paul’s lost the resort, his license. He’s almost cost me my right to live in Tanzania.” Caleb paced around the room. “David thinks he may need to fire me. The Wildlife Division wants to blame me for the rhino’s loss. For letting Paul escape. He must have destroyed any paperwork on the rhino’s location. We know the rhino exists now, but you drove for hours after finding the car, right? So the rhino could be anywhere within a hundred, maybe two hundred kilometer radius. We don’t have the resources to search that kind of area.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. She’d captured the pictures she wanted and hadn’t thought through anything else.

  CHAPTER 24

  Paul

  Paul avoided customs and computers. He left Tanzania by boat and flew into Mexico.

  Claire’s death and Lydia’s probable death had driven him out of the country he loved and the business he’d spent his entire life building. A woman’s choice, a woman’s mistake. Seemed like every faulty step in his life could be tracked back to a woman.

  People had the right to make their own decisions, regardless of how dangerous. He believed in that as firmly as he believed in the right to hunt, the right to save his business, the right to survive in the world by any means necessary. He never forced a person to do anything. Especially a woman. He could encourage, he could offer money, he could argue, but he never forced a woman. Yet, the decisions of the women in his life had forced him out of everything important to his life.

  Without realizing it, he’d managed to bind himself to these women like the rope he used to hitch dead trophies to the Land Cruiser. Like his father had done with his mother.

  Well, all that was over now.

  He did not say goodbye to Abiba. He did not let her see him. He saw no point in it. But before he stole away from Blue Nile Safari with his passport, he secreted his logbook in Caleb’s wall, in the hole he wasn’t supposed to know about. He offered the rhino’s location as one part of his redemption but knew it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  There was always another path, a man just had to work hard to find it sometimes.

  So he called Jack Hellerman.

  CHAPTER 25

  Caleb

  Abiba waited for him on the Blue Nile Safari porch. She gripped a small black book to her chest and ran up to his open window before he could turn off the engine. “Oh my son. In your room. In the wall.”

  He opened Paul’s logbook to the only dog-eared page. “For Caleb” was written at the top in Paul’s handwriting. Probably the closest thing to an apology he’d ever get, but it didn’t make a difference. It would never be enough.

  He left Lydia at the hospital with a few words about doing his duty and needing to make things right. The sun had turned the sky into a fiery orange blanket by the time he and M’soko set out.

  Paul’s coordinates would take them to the edge of the Ngorongoro reserve. Nothing about it made any sense—how the rhino had wandered into the crater and then climbed back out. Game trails were rare, though some did exist where the crater rim had fallen in on itself, creating a small opening that enlarged bit by bit from animals daring to cross back and forth. The rhino must have taken a trail worn through the eastern rim of the crater. It was the only theory that made any sense, yet it still seemed farfetched that it had trekked all that way without being noticed.

  The vehicle bottomed out under Caleb’s not so careful guidance.

  “We must be alive to see the rhino,” M’soko said.

  Caleb forced himself to slow down. They passed near where M’soko and the safari had found the abandoned car. The authorities had linked the Pontiac to a guy named Barry Dunwick, who was still in a coma after a recent car accident. There was some sort of connection between Paul and Barry, but no one had discovered what.

  They drove for several more hours before making camp near Paul’s most recent chicken-scratched coordinates.

  M’soko opened cans of beans and soup for dinner while Caleb laid out the sleeping tarps. M’soko unpacked the propane hot plate and they both waited in silence for the food to heat. After their meager dinner, Caleb brought out a bottle of tequila.

  Caleb handed the bottle to M’soko in the darkness that was not all that dark with how bright and thick the stars shone in the sky.

  Though they had been friends now for many years, Caleb took several shots before feeling comfortable enough to make him the offer he’d begun to put together since helping the village. “I talked with my supervisor at the Wildlife Division. I talked to him about you and Muna, the elephants and the crops they destroyed. He thinks you should help the village manage Paul’s hunting bloc.”

  Caleb heard the rustle of M’soko’s sleeping bag. He felt smooth glass touch his arm and took the tequila bottle from M’soko. “He thinks he can get it approved.”

  “What can he approve?”

  “A reorganization of the bloc,” Caleb said. A deep pause slid between. The noises of a dozen animals engaging in nocturnal adventures filled the darkness. “It’s been done in a few other places. This concession is ripe for it. What do you think?” He passed M’soko the bottle. “You could work out an arrangement with the village. They need someone experienced in professional hunting to lead out clients. Someone who knows English and the other foreigner languages to negotiate the safaris.”

 
“You want that to be me.”

  “And Muna. Talk to the village. Tell them about the reorganization, about how they would receive the fees a normal PH or safari company would get. They would be allowed a quota, permits to allow others to hunt only a certain number of animals. Show them that each animal they keep alive will pay for future shelter, food, health care, education.”

  They heard a trumpet then. A low, almost maddening sound of frustration that reverberated through their makeshift camp. Another elephant trumpeted a response. Caleb sat up and knew by the rustle of material that M’soko did the same.

  “I think he is close,” M’soko said.

  They did not sleep well that night.

  The next morning, both Caleb and M’soko treated their headaches with coffee.

  “My friend, did you hear the elephants or did I have a dream?”

  “I heard them,” Caleb said.

  “So we will find the faru but also find our two troubled friends. And this I must help you do or I cannot help the village.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course life is hard and impossible. Of course I cannot go safely back to Owl Camp and share the good news with Muna.” M’soko grinned and held up the tranq gun he was holding. “Of course we must only go out and defend ourselves and this one special rhino with only sleeping pills. It is the kisettler way. Lead on, brother. Feel safe with my sleeping pills protecting your back.”

  Caleb wanted to laugh at M’soko’s teasing, except all of it was true. “No, we will take real guns too. If it comes down to us or them, I want it to be them.”

  “So now we carry two guns each? And if we get confused and use the wrong one? No, my friend. You can take the sleeping pills. I will protect you with my rifle.”

  “Or we could switch?”

  “You are the scientist, trained in these special potions.” M’soko laughed and switched out his tranq gun for a rifle. “How does the phrase go? Better you than me.”

  Caleb gave him a wry smile. “I feel safer already.”

  They struck out on foot. They acted more lighthearted than they had reason to. It had been over a month since the last confirmed sighting.

  Caleb and M’soko searched for fresh spoor. Sometimes a rhino liked to haunt the same grounds. Caleb heard M’soko’s whistle. He hurried to where M’soko stood near several large piles of dung. “Our three friends, I think,” M’soko said. “The faru is two days old. The two others came a day after.”

  Caleb went through a mental checklist. His dart gun would bring down the rhino. He would take blood and then use the satellite phone to call in the game officers to truck it out, like they’d done with the elephants.

  M’soko and Caleb didn’t have the equipment to move the animal themselves, so it was important to dart the rhino in a location defendable against predators. It was also important to dart the animal in a location they could defend themselves from the rhino when it regained consciousness.

  Twelve hours later, they returned to fly camp exhausted. They had scouted a herd of hippos submerged in a marsh, crowned, golden-topped pelicans picking for insects, a few scattered giraffes in the acacia trees, but no further sign of the rhino or elephants. They ate a cold dinner, too famished to wait for the hot plate to heat yet another can of beans and soup. Between hangovers and hiking on empty stomachs, a lion would have had easy pickings that night. Caleb fell asleep to elephant trumpets again, but barely noticed.

  The next morning, Caleb used the satellite phone to call Blue Nile. He asked Abiba about Lydia.

  “She is released. Muna brought her to Blue Nile until her plane trip. I also got you ticket,” Abiba said.

  “Good,” Caleb said. He hadn’t told anyone except Abiba, but he planned to fly back with Lydia, get her settled, and maybe pay a visit to Jack Hellerman. It didn’t matter to him that she’d lied. Well, that was a lie, too, but he knew Paul was at the root of all this and didn’t blame Lydia for wanting something bad enough everything else came secondary. That’s why he was out here searching for the rhino instead of by her side or tracking down Paul. Right now, the rhino came first.

  What Caleb feared more than not finding the rhino was finding its carcass.

  After another fruitless day, M’soko set up their dinner on top of the vehicle hood. Caleb scouted the area on foot for about a hundred meters to the southwest where a small pond of water hadn’t yet dried up. A herd of Cape buffalo stirred up mud while taking their fill of water. That didn’t keep him from seeing fresh rhino tracks. He whistled for M’soko, who came running with a piece of jerky in hand.

  “Might not be the one we’re looking for,” Caleb said.

  “This is the one,” M’soko said after a moment of study. “Same print.” He tapped the logbook tucked into Caleb’s belt. “Check.”

  Caleb studied the entries again. Regardless of Paul’s true intentions for the rhino, he’d made a detailed entry of the identifying marks, including estimated horn length and sketches of its tracks. As far either one of them could tell, the prints matched.

  They scouted a few hundred meters along the marsh line, through trees and brambles. The fading evening light made it too difficult to continue. They were about to turn back when M’soko placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb focused on the large area of bush where M’soko stared.

  There it was, in all its grey-armored glory. Thick bushes and the oncoming darkness obscured its details, but the sight of the head and square lips was more than enough to make Caleb’s heart surge in triumph.

  Caleb motioned for them to back away. Not until they reached the car did Caleb dare to whisper. “Tomorrow.”

  M’soko nodded.

  A nighttime darting was dangerous and put them at a disadvantage.

  They discussed plans for the next day and whether or not they should guard the rhino through the night. Caleb called in the coordinates for the truck and additional game officers.

  “When will they come?” M’soko asked.

  “The soonest is late morning tomorrow,” Caleb said.

  M’soko nodded and finished setting up dinner.

  Caleb hadn’t yet put away the satellite phone when it signaled another call.

  “Caleb? It’s Lydia.”

  A knot tightened in his stomach. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the resort.” The satellite phone crackled.

  “Is something wrong? Where’s Abiba?”

  Lydia’s voice raised in pitch. “It’s about Paul.”

  M’soko looked up and then busied himself with the hot plate and beans.

  “What’s happened?” He was at least a good day’s drive from Blue Nile. If Paul had returned, he could come and go before Caleb made it back.

  “He’s in California,” Lydia said.

  “Hellerman,” Caleb said.

  “Yeah, and I know where,” Lydia said. “Mr. Compton called to warn us.” The phone crackled over Lydia’s words. “I’m just going to take my pictures back. Then I’ll call the police. I moved up the flight. I’m leaving tomorrow and didn’t want you to find me gone—”

  “You are in no condition to go anywhere, much less after Paul! Lydia. Just wait there—”

  “I’m not going to argue with you—”

  “—we found the rhino tonight. Give me three more days and I’ll fly out after him. In the meantime, we can call the authorities in California. I’m sure whatever he’s doing is illegal. He’ll be snapped up in no time, your pictures will be safe. Lydia, you have to wait.”

  “But what can the authorities do? He hasn’t been charged with anything yet. As far as anyone knows, he hasn’t committed any crimes. He’s going to get away with this.”

  “No, he’s not.” Caleb tried to sound confident but Lydia was right. Paul was bound to be charged with any number of crimes, but even when that happened, if it happened in time, it might not matter to U.S. authorities. All they could prove was that Paul had engaged in minor fraud with his subleasing activities, ille
gally tranquilized and then set free an endangered animal, had been involved in a hunting accident, and had commandeered a Wildlife Division vehicle. The crimes stacked up, but why would the U.S. devote resources to a rogue trophy hunter on the shady side of Tanzanian law when they had terrorists and drug cartels to stop?

  Caleb heard a soft click and the static disappeared. “Lydia? Lydia? Respond, over.” She was like a stubborn rhinoceros: the one-track mind, the will defying all sense, but he would wear her down until she agreed to stay. He tried calling the resort again, tried to get hold of Abiba, anything to buy him some time. No answer.

  He put in another call to the Wildlife Division and asked them to contact U.S. authorities, but he didn’t think it would help. If he stayed and captured one of the last northern whites in the world, he might lose Lydia. If he left the rhino behind, he would never forgive himself—but there damn well wasn’t time to do both.

  2

  “We will capture the rhino tonight,” M’soko said. He turned off the hot plate and didn’t wait for Caleb’s answer but handed Caleb a tranq gun and started off into the night. Brambles pulled at his khakis and boots as Caleb followed M’soko into the bush. Caleb didn’t know how M’soko planned for things to work out. Even if they found the rhino, the truck and game officers wouldn’t arrive until late morning to haul it out.

  They passed twisted trees with bark flaking off the trunks, the leaves covered in sand-colored dust. They entered miombo woodlands.

  Snorts and trumpets and squeals bounced against the trees. In a small clearing next to the pond, lit up by star and moonlight, stood three house-sized mounds of flesh. Two elephants and a rhino. One elephant sported a broken tusk. Bushes and young trees no thicker than a thumb fell beneath their flexed and rippled charges, widening the open space.

  The two elephants circled the rhino. One stampeded in, horn and tusks lowered to feint one direction before backing off a few steps.