by Sibel Hodge
Asha tried to leap out of the way, but it was too late. A tusk sank into Asha’s chest, blood running down her golden coat, and the warthog sprinted away to safety.
A sickening chill crept over me as Asha limped towards us, looking very sorry for herself.
We bent down in front of her and examined the wound. She had a hole about two centimetres in diameter torn through her fur that went right into the muscle, and she was clearly in pain.
‘We need to get her back to Dad so he can patch her up,’ I said, biting my lower lip, worried that it might’ve done some damage to the muscle that could impair her future hunting skills.
I stroked her head as she nudged it against me, looking for some sympathy. Reaching underneath her, I ran my fingers along her belly, which she adored. Instantly, she flopped onto her back and stretched out, loving the attention.
Zach called Dad on the radio and we took her back to the enclosure.
‘Do you think she’ll be OK?’ I blurted out to Dad before he’d even had time to examine her properly.
‘Give me a chance.’ Dad pulled the wound open slightly between his thumb and forefinger, checking to see how deep it was. ‘It should be OK, but it will take a while to heal. I’ll give her a shot of long-lasting antibiotics and suture the wound, but I’ll need to anaesthetise her. She won’t be too happy about it.’
Dad performed the operation in his surgery, and we brought her back to the enclosure to recuperate. For a week Asha moped around limping, feeling very sorry for herself as the wound healed.
‘At least she learned a valuable lesson,’ Zach said. ‘She’ll know never to put herself in a position so close to those tusks again.’
‘Hopefully,’ I said.
But what would happen when she was finally released and out in the big reserve alone? I wouldn’t always be around to protect her and make sure she was OK. A leopard’s life was fraught with danger every day. If she wasn’t trying to keep away from lions or hyenas, then she risked possible injury from her prey, infections from wounds or other illnesses, and poachers. Hundreds of things could go wrong. I was doing all I could to try and teach her how to live like a wild leopard, but in the end it was all down to Asha.
Chapter 22
It was Christmas Day again. Where had all the time gone? I was definitely going to make sure I didn’t stand anywhere near the mistletoe this year, and I’d finally accepted the fact that Zach and I would never be more than just friends. Surely it was better to have a friend like him than risk it all because he’d never feel the same way about me, wasn’t it?
I still missed Mum, of course I did, but this year it wasn’t like a heavy despair crushing my chest anymore. The sharp edges of pain had blurred into a sad acceptance of the truth. Mum wasn’t coming back, no matter how much I wished for it. I couldn’t change the past, but I could change the future, and my future lay here, in Kenya, the country she loved so much. Now I felt like she was watching over me, proud of what I’d achieved so far with Asha and how much my life had changed since I arrived. I thought back to the day I’d found my beautiful little girl and how depressed I’d been before she came into my life. Without her, who knew what would’ve happened to me. In my darkest times the thought of suicide had crept into my head. Everything had seemed so hopeless and lost, but Asha gave me a reason to get up in the mornings. She was the one who’d given me the strength and courage to go on. Asha was my see-through leopard. She hadn’t seen what everyone else saw when she looked into my face that day. She’d seen through the scars and the pain and anger inside me and saw something that she instinctively felt I could be. I’d jumped into that dark, swampy river but somewhere along the way, the light had pierced through the darkness and I’d kicked my way out of the murkiness towards the surface.
I was sure deep down now that somehow Mum had made it happen. How else could I have been in the right place at the right time to find Asha? She was sending me a message from beyond the grave that good things can come out of bad. That even if I couldn’t heal my facial scars, I could heal my heart and my head by concentrating on doing something meaningful. That I could channel my grief into new possibilities, where I could grow and learn from everything that had happened.
Slowly, I was piecing myself back together, but it wasn’t the old Jazz that I was looking for anymore, it was the new Jazz. The girl who saved Zach from a hippo, the girl who fought to train a leopard so she could live her life as nature intended, in the wild; the girl who witnessed the horrifying mutilation of a rhino. The new Jazz was a girl whose heart now lay with the animals. A girl who wanted to try and make a difference to the conservation of wildlife. A girl with a purpose who had hope for the future.
One thing I knew for certain was that I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while the slaughter of these animals was going on. Asha’s mum, Bella, Houdini’s herd, all the other creatures who were being killed because they had something humans wanted. I had to at least try to do something about it, and I knew that this was the direction Mum had been trying to show me, because everything that had happened since we arrived in her beloved Kenya had led to this point. I’d thought my dreams of being a lawyer and fighting for justice had been smashed into oblivion with the accident, but in fact, they hadn’t at all. They’d evolved into something better. I was still determined to fight for justice, but this time it would be for animals, not humans.
I slipped out of the house as dawn broke and slung my rifle over my shoulder. I had something important to do. I picked some wild flowers, taking care to find just the right colours. Holding them to my nose, I inhaled their sweet scent and carried on, walking towards the rocks where I’d found Asha a lifetime ago.
I stood at the base of the rocks, rested the flowers on the ground, and turned my face up to the sky, feeling a tranquillity radiating through the still morning air deep into my soul.
‘Thank you, Mum,’ I said into the silence.
I climbed to the top of the rocks and sat there for a while, arms hugging my knees as I looked out across the savannah. A black butterfly with turquoise markings landed next to me on the rock, and I knew it was another sign from Mum. In my heart I knew that she’d forgiven me.
Here, where my journey had begun with Asha, I felt a gentle peace settle over me. I was ending an old chapter in my life and writing a new one, just like Aunt Katrina had told me I could in the beginning.
After an hour, I climbed down and strolled slowly back to the house. Dad sat on the veranda with Zach, drinking coffee. They stood up when they saw me, anxious expressions on their faces.
‘Where did you get to?’ Dad asked.
I gave them a happy, relaxed smile. ‘I had something important to do.’ I walked towards him and slipped my arms round his waist. ‘Happy Christmas, Dad.’
‘Happy Christmas, sweetheart.’ He squeezed me back.
I looked at Zach, who picked up a package on the table that was wrapped up.
‘Happy Christmas. I’ve brought a present.’ Zach held it out for me.
I stepped out of Dad’s arms and took it, unwrapping the package carefully.
It was a radio collar.
‘I’ve always wanted one of these.’ I smirked. ‘I heard they’re wearing them on the catwalk this season.’
Zach laughed. ‘It’s not for you. From now on we need to swap Asha’s collar for a radio collar. She’s hunting successfully enough for us to leave her alone in the bush during the day and collect her at night to sleep in the enclosure. It will be a soft release. This will allow us to track her.’
‘Well, let’s go and try it out before Christmas dinner.’ I walked down the stairs towards Asha’s enclosure.
Even though I was spending less time in close proximity with her, Asha still responded to me with such love and trust that very few people ever get to experience. I was one of the lucky ones.
I removed her old leather collar and slipped on the new one, which was heavier and more cumbersome. Immediately she sat down and pawed at
it, making an annoyed whining sound.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll get used to it,’ Zach said when he saw my worried face.
‘I’m just an overprotective mother.’ I led her out to the Land Rover, and as we drove to her territory, the excitement of the trip seemed to distract her from any discomfort with the collar. She sat, eyes bright with anticipation, watching the animals go by and sniffing the air.
We let her out of the vehicle and drove off into the distance. I watched her with binoculars while Zach filmed her. She leisurely scratched a couple of tree trunks with her claws, marking her territory, and wandered off towards a herd of buffalo. She lay down and watched them for a while and then, deciding they were probably too big for her, made her way down to the river to drink. After satisfying her thirst, she padded away, following an old elephant track etched through some thick grasses and scrubland.
Suddenly, Baruti emerged from the cover, his huge rhino body blocking her path. Asha froze, one paw still in the air as the two eyed each other with surprise before weighing up the other to see who would have right of way. After a few minutes, Baruti must’ve decided she wasn’t worth the effort and retreated back under cover.
Asha swaggered off again, stopping at a large, low-lying bush to sniff around for a while, every muscle taut with excitement. A few minutes later, a large warthog came flying out, narrowly missing Asha’s front legs. She chased after it and made the kill with perfect timing and precision, and, more importantly, she’d wisely learned to avoid the warthog’s substantial weapons. Silencing the animal instantly with a bite to the underside of its throat, her strong jaws clamped onto it in a death grip before she dragged it between her front paws effortlessly up into a nearby tree.
‘Did you get all that on film?’ I turned to Zach, eyes wide with pride.
He grinned. ‘All of it.’
‘Wasn’t she amazing?’
He nodded. ‘She did good.’
‘My little girl is all grown up.’ I sighed with happiness. ‘Do we really have to leave her now? Do you think she’s ready to be out here on her own?’ I frowned.
He nodded firmly. ‘She’s ready. It would be best to leave while she’s distracted with the kill. We’ll be back before it gets dark to put her in her enclosure for the night.’
And as we drove off to the lodge, I kept looking at her until she was just a speck in the distance, my throat squeezed tight with betrayal by sneaking off when her back was turned. For the first time, she would be out there without me close by, watching her every move.
As soon as we arrived back at the lodge kitchen, I made Zach fire up the laptop so we could track Asha’s movements on her radio collar.
‘She hasn’t moved,’ Zach said. ‘She’s probably still feeding.’
Satisfied things seemed OK, I helped Jenna and Chef pile up the sumptuous turkey feast and carry it to the table, where a lot of hungry rangers were ready and waiting.
I took a seat between Dad and Zach as Bobo tried to steal a piece of turkey off my plate.
‘Hey, that’s mine,’ I gently scolded and kept my beady eye on her.
Richard stood up with an ice cold beer in his hand. ‘Time for a toast, I think. To Kilingi and all the animals in it. Let’s hope we have safe and happy times ahead.’
‘To Kilingi!’ everyone cheered before tucking in.
‘You’re out of beer,’ Richard said to Dad. ‘Do you want another?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I’ve got to release that bushbaby tonight so one had better be my limit. It was brought in with an injured leg a few days ago, and I’ve stitched him up and given him an antibiotic shot, but I don’t want to keep him any longer than necessary.’
I looked at Dad. After everything that had happened, he deserved a nice relaxing day with his friends. ‘Zach and I can do that for you, if you want to stay here and celebrate Christmas, can’t we, Zach?’ I elbowed Zach.
Zach nodded. ‘No problem.’
‘And anyway, I’ve never seen a bushbaby, so it will be good for me.’
‘Well, thanks.’ Dad stood up. ‘Looks like I’m having another beer, after all!’ He walked to the fridge, grabbed one for himself and offered some to the others.
‘We can release it on the way to pick Asha up,’ I said to Dad.
‘Actually, you’ll need to do it at night.’ Dad sat down at the table. ‘Bushbabies are nocturnal creatures with huge eyes that are very sensitive to sunlight, so they forage at night.’
‘Well, it’s a full moon tonight, which will mean we can still see the release and make sure it goes off OK.’ Zach nodded.
‘OK, sounds good.’ I stared at the mapping system on the laptop that I’d been keeping a close eye on throughout dinner. A red dot was bleeping, indicating that Asha had changed her location. ‘Look, she’s on the move! I wonder what she’s doing,’ I said wistfully, popping a piece of roast potato into my mouth.
‘Probably working off her Christmas dinner,’ Dad said, rubbing his stomach. ‘Which is what I’ll have to do after this amazing meal.’ He raised his beer bottle in the air. ‘Another toast. To Chef, for feeding this entire hungry rabble and always smiling.’
We toasted Chef with laughter.
He turned from preparing the dinner for the guests and took a bow of honour with the same toothy grin plastered all over his face.
Slowly, we all went round the table, offering up a toast to someone or something. We toasted the rangers and patrols, the sunshine, beer, whiskey, until it rapidly got more and more stupid and we ended up toasting hedgehogs’ spikes, Action Man, bow ties, and pot plants.
I drank the last of my beer, feeling warm and contented. All around me, these people were like a new family. It could be tough living out here on a game reserve in the middle of Kenya, but we all had to rely on each other to help make it work. Mum might not be part of our family in physical terms anymore, but she would’ve loved to be part of this one, and I knew she was out there somewhere, looking down at us and smiling.
I glanced at Dad and Zach, and their eyes sparkled with happiness.
I felt it, too. Happiness had been creeping up on me for a while, but for the first time I didn’t feel guilty about it. Zach was right when he’d said life is fragile, and I realised that the only way to deal with that was to get busy living again. I could’ve died in that accident, too, but I’d been given a second chance and I had to use it for something good; that’s what Mum would’ve told me. Life wasn’t a given, it was a gift.
I sat back in my seat, smiling as I pushed my plate away, too stuffed to move. Glancing at the laptop, I saw Asha’s signal wasn’t moving. She was stationary somewhere. Maybe up in a tree, surveying her territory. Maybe lying in wait to ambush some unsuspecting prey. I wondered if she was thinking of me, missing me as much as I missed her.
‘What do you think she’s doing?’ I whispered to Zach.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t got X-ray eyes,’ he drawled.
‘I know, but still, what do you think?’ I ignored the sarcasm in his voice.
He was about to say something when all of a sudden a snake fell out of the rafters above and landed on top of the table, slap bang in the middle of the turkey.
Surprised, I leaped up with shock as everyone else just stared at the snake and started laughing, like it was the most normal thing in the world to have a snake drop in for a spot of Christmas dinner. In Africa, it probably was.
‘Get that thing out of my kitchen!’ Chef yelled, still smiling as he ran to the table with his hands pressed to his cheeks.
‘It’s only a brown house snake. It’s harmless.’ Dad laughed.
‘I’ll put it in a soup if it stays here, I warn you.’ Chef wagged his fingers at everyone as the snake tried to slither off the table.
Grabbing it beneath its head, Richard expertly picked it up and deposited it outside.
‘That’s nothing.’ Jenna chuckled. ‘One time we had a huge cobra drop onto one of the guest’s tables when they were eating in the
dining room. You should’ve seen their face!’
After all the laughter had died down, Christmas pudding had been eaten, and crackers pulled, I whispered into Zach’s ear. ‘Shall we go and find Asha now?’
He nodded and we slipped out as the anti-poaching patrols and rangers left to get back to work, leaving Dad, Richard, and Jenna playing a game of Scrabble.
As soon as Asha heard the Land Rover pull up, she ran towards us, her powerful legs taking long strides. She could always differentiate between our Land Rover and the others on the reserve. I jumped out and hugged her close, and she buried her head in my arms. Then she sat back and stared at me for a while, and I couldn’t work out if she was trying to say, Didn’t I do well? or Why did you go and leave me?
‘Come on, Asha.’ I patted the seat of the Land Rover and she jumped in, nuzzling into me as I sat down next to her. ‘Happy Christmas, girl,’ I whispered into her neck.
As we pulled up to her enclosure, Zach looked at his watch. ‘Do you want to drop her off and head back to the lodge? We’ve got a few hours to kill before we release the bushbaby, and it sounds like Mum and Dad and your dad are still up there, having a good time.
I nodded and jumped out. ‘Asha’s probably tired out after her exciting day, anyway.’
As if to prove the point, Asha padded slowly behind me into her enclosure and lay down, resting her head on her paws before closing her eyes.
We joined in a raucous game of Scrabble that was still going with Richard, Jenna, and Dad for a couple of hours until it got dark. As they were arguing good-naturedly over the finer points of a two-letter word Dad had just put down, Zach turned to me and said, ‘You ready to release the bushbaby?’
I nodded, following him to Dad’s office, and he flipped the lights on. There was a cage resting on the floor with a sheet round it.
‘Can I have a look at it?’ I nodded to the cage.
‘Better wait until we’re outside in the dark. Don’t want to scare him, they’re very timid, and the light will hurt his eyes.’
