by Rula Sinara
The heat drained from Anna’s cheeks and she shook her head.
“In all our years of friendship, Jack, when have I ever treated you like someone I didn’t respect? When have I ever implied that you were anything but good? In fact, if there’s one thing I never doubted about you, it’s that you always do what’s right.”
“And the Anna I knew always did what was right, too, which is why I think you put my name on that certificate.”
She didn’t respond.
“Look, Anna. I need—I’m asking—you to come into Nairobi with me. Just one day, maybe two, off work.”
“Why? I can’t—”
“Hear me out. No matter how we...fix this situation, Pippa needs her papers drawn up. She needs her citizenship, a passport—”
“Wait a minute.”
“No, you wait, Anna. She needs them. This isn’t about you or me. This is about Pippa’s safety and security. What if something happened to you?”
“That’s why I put your name on her birth certificate, Jack. I was thinking about the future and what-ifs.”
“But you didn’t follow through.”
Anna’s cheeks reddened with the slap of his words. She hadn’t followed through, just like she hadn’t returned to the States. He’d spoken the truth and wasn’t going to back down. Jack held his hands up in a peace effort, but pressed on.
“If something did happen, there would be all sorts of delays in paperwork. Is that what you want? Not knowing where she’d be in the interim?” He left it at that. One step at a time. No matter where Pippa ended up living, her legal paperwork was a matter that needed to be addressed. He was being straightforward about that.
* * *
ANNA WALKED BACK to the tree and, leaning the side of her head against one leg of her platform, tried to figure out if he was manipulating her. It wasn’t in his nature, but tap into anyone’s primal instincts and surprising things could happen. She stared out at a herd of zebras grazing unsuspectingly in the distance. In seconds they took off at a fierce run, a cheetah in fierce pursuit. All made it but one. The youngest. Jack winced.
Anna turned, leaning her back against the beam and rubbing her palms down her thighs twice before looking at him.
“It’s nature, Jack. Survival of the fittest. The lack of rain is a predator in and of itself. It’s a spectacular place, though,” she said, looking wistfully back over the dried plains before continuing. “You want me to go into Nairobi with you? Fine. On one condition. You go up there with me,” she said, pointing skyward.
She pushed off and strode past him not waiting for a response. He’d cornered her and she hated being cornered, especially when she’d given him a means. Nevertheless, she’d seen plenty of critters who, when they couldn’t escape to the left or right, opted for up. Ambosi, for one. And up was a brilliant option. Pure genius, if she could say so herself.
“You want me to climb a thorny tree with you?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jack. Up in the sky. In a helicopter, smart one.”
Jack grinned like a hyena at breakfast.
“I know what you meant, genius,” he said, emphasizing “genius,” just as he had back in school, when he’d egg her on until she loosened up and laughed.
She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction, but the memory, and the familiar way he was smiling at her... Anna sucked in her bottom lip and bit down. Hard. A reality bite that hurt a lot less than the pain he’d cause if she fell for his obvious plan. Nostalgia had no effect on her. The past was nothing but lies. She gave him her best I’m being serious here look.
“Didn’t you bring that camera? The one you never let me borrow?” she asked.
“Of course I did. You’re treating me to photo ops? What’s that got to do with Nairobi?”
“Nothing at all.” Anna started back toward camp and he fell in step. A great sign that she’d turned the tables. She smiled, half show and half satisfaction. “An aerial view is an efficient way to check on herds, movement patterns, which watering holes and riverbeds have dried. You get the idea.”
“Checking on poachers?”
“The authorities do that. If we happen to see something suspicious, then of course we’ll report it, but this is strictly to check on the elephants.”
“If there’s a helicopter around here, then why did I have to endure that road trip from Amboseli?”
This time, Anna couldn’t suppress her laugh. “Aw, Jack. Was that a little too wild compared to your pristine lab?”
“No. Just wondering,” he said, visibly straightening.
“Your supplies might have been too heavy, but either way, we don’t have an official landing pad out here. Just a grassy area big enough to set down a chopper in case of emergencies, and for chartering the occasional observatory flight.”
“Your expense list didn’t say anything about charter flights.” The look on Jack’s face told Anna that he hadn’t intended to say that. She stopped and folded her arms.
“Seriously, Jack? You’re unbelievable. Miller’s minion. I happen to know someone who owns a tourist charter flight company. He donates some flight time each month to anyone at a wildlife reserve who needs it. He’s already indulged me this month, though, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask without offering compensation.”
In reality, Mac had been more than kind to her, and she’d been getting the impression that he was interested. The last thing she wanted was to feel beholden to anyone, or to lead anyone on. Taking Jack up would solve several issues at once.
She glanced at him. “You provide the payment—trust me, it’s affordable for you—and I’ll go to Nairobi with you within the week.”
“Affordable, huh? Is this some plan to run my pockets dry and strand me here?” Jack asked, scratching his jaw. She arched her brows and waited. “We do Nairobi tomorrow.”
“Can’t. I have a wedding to attend tomorrow,” she said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Out here?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack huffed, as if she was lying to buy time. She really had blown his trust. “We take care of Pippa’s paperwork the day after tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Anna swung around and resumed walking. Jack always could read her face, and she didn’t want him seeing the satisfaction on it. That would only raise his guard.
He was right about needing to sort out Pippa’s paperwork. Anna couldn’t argue with that. She wanted what was best for their daughter, just as Jack did. He would do what he thought was best, so she had only one option: make him fall in love with Busara, with Kenya. Convince him that being here with her mother was the best thing for Pippa.
And if plan A didn’t work, then Anna would have no choice but to go with plan B. A plan she didn’t have the money for, but which she’d have to find a way to execute. She’d fight for custody.
* * *
MAC THE GQ PILOT was too handsome for anyone’s good.
What bugged Jack the most was that he seemed to have it all. The flying skills, the generosity, a passion for wildlife and he was local. Everything that fit perfectly into Anna’s life. And if Jack had to witness one more round of Mac insisting she sit up front with him in the snug little chopper and Anna blushing in response, he’d suffer a preflight bout of nausea.
How many times in the past few years had she gone up alone with this guy? Or out with him?
“We don’t have all day, so why don’t I sit up front, since I have the camera,” Jack said, patting his camera case.
“Sure, man. No problem,” Mac said. He shrugged at Anna and helped her into the back, then got in position.
There was no way Jack was letting on that he’d never been in a helicopter...and had his reservations. The blades began whooping, and revved to a deafening whir. Mac handed them headgear and adjust
ed his own. By the time Jack realized that having both of Pippa’s parents go up in this tin can together might be too much of a risk, they’d lifted off. He made a mental note. First step as new dad: write a living will.
Mac veered left, causing Jack’s case to slide. He trapped it with his foot, then mustered up the courage to reach down and pull out his camera. The chopper had leveled off. This was good. He uncapped the lens, tossed it into his case then adjusted his zoom. Man, this camera had seen just about every sunset and sunrise during his gangly, semi-outcast teen years. A birthday gift from the Harpers that he later realized was an attempt to draw him out of his shell. Teach him to trust again. No amount of rain, snow or fog had kept him from taking it to the lake...or to school games. Not that he’d watched them. Every one of those shots had been focused on the warm, accepting, shy face of a girl who, whether she knew it or not, had kept him from looking back. Anna’s innocence, optimism and open heart had convinced him that only the future mattered, and all he had to do to shape it was focus ahead and work hard. So he did.
And look where it got him.
Jack leaned cautiously into the windshield and looked down. Incredible. Breathtaking. In spite of every English class he’d aced, he was pretty sure even a thesaurus wouldn’t carry a word that adequately described the scene below. The tree-dappled expanse. The veins of blue meandering through endless brown grassland. The flocks of white birds taking flight. It was formidable. He aimed and clicked, lost in the deafening whir of the helicopter’s engine and captivating canvas through his lens. From here, there was no smell, no dust, no death. Just...amazing.
They passed over a copse of acacia trees and cleared the camp. Busara looked miniscule against the vast plain. The chopper dipped and Jack instinctively grabbed the side of his seat with one hand. Then, when he noted the corner of Mac’s mouth turn up, he pretended he was shifting positions for a better shot. The guy had probably done it on purpose.
Jack adjusted his lens, turned and took a shot of Anna beaming out the window behind Mac. She turned and grinned. That smile was for me, dude. Jack clicked. She gave him a thumbs-up and pointed excitedly out the window. He clicked again. She sent him an exasperated look. Within seconds, Jack felt one of her hands grip his shoulder and the other tap the pad on his ear. She, too, wore noise protection, but the movement of her lips suggested that she was talking to Mac, and Jack couldn’t hear them. His headset was turned off. Mac reached out and fiddled with a knob, and suddenly, Anna’s voice came through Jack’s earphones. So did Mac’s amusement.
“Look down, Jack. You can’t miss this,” she yelled, her face close enough for her sweet scent to envelope him. Close enough for a kiss that wasn’t going to happen. He ignored Mac’s smug look and, obeying Anna, turned toward his window.
“What the...” No way. Whoa. Thousands of animals flowed across the plain like a wave of creamed coffee spilling across a maple floor. Beyond them, the unmistakable black-and-white of zebras moving congruously stood out against the neutral backdrop like visitors from another world that didn’t belong. Just like him. Jack had seen migrations on those TV nature shows, but in person it was simply phenomenal.
He didn’t realize Anna had scooted behind him until he felt her hands on his shoulders. He glanced at her as she peered out his window to gain his vantage point. He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke through the noise. She pointed.
“Wildebeests. They migrate annually in a large circular pattern in search of water. You saw how dry most of the area is, but that river calls to them. And those zebras? Remember when you’d watch TV with me after school and you’d go on about how zebras had zero camouflage sense?”
Jack nodded. She still remembered that lame joke, his attempt to laugh off his lack of fashion sense back then. He wasn’t sure he cared for Mac listening in on this.
“Lions are color-blind. The stripes blend in with the tall grass the zebras hide in. The patterning can also confuse predators who are trying to target a single victim. Just a few benefits to those stripes.” She wrinkled her nose and cocked her head playfully at the shared memory.
The chopper dipped again. This time, he didn’t even flinch. Take that, Mac. Jack looked out and gaped. Oka-a-ay. So death was evident, even from up here. And from here, that cheetah had blended into the backdrop so efficiently, she’d taken more than a gazelle by surprise. Jack was amazed.
Anna pressed her fingers against Jack’s shoulder to get his attention, though she already had it, and pointed to several different herds of elephants. And then it struck him.
His Anna was in her element.
* * *
SOMETHING WAS OFF.
Anna registered every nuance of the camp in one glance, a natural ability that had been enhanced by motherhood. Still, it took a second longer to pinpoint what was odd. She blamed the lag time on the air turbulence caused by Jack walking a step too close behind her. Their proximity in the chopper had been due to the cramped quarters. No other reason. That excuse was null and void now.
Kamau sat with Haki on a couple overturned buckets, playing a game of checkers on a board drawn with black marker on a cardboard box. The pieces were pebbles versus wood chips. Kamau had never sat around playing games with the kids before. Joking around here and there, showing them the animals, or playing a few rounds of catch or tag, sure. But total immersion? She hadn’t witnessed it. Plus, this was naptime, and Kamau usually did rounds at this hour. Especially since he was covering for Anna.
Kamau looked up, his lips twisting like a little boy caught playing hooky. Haki looked serious, as usual. A boy definitely cut out for checkers...or chess. He glanced over, but after spotting Jack, quickly propped his cheek against his little fist and turned his face away, toward his game.
“He doesn’t like me, does he?” Jack asked, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his khakis, clearly oblivious to things being out of sync.
Anna ignored him and instead shot Kamau an inquisitive look. He responded by nodding toward her quarters. Okay. So for some reason, Haki and Pippa had to be separated? They’d argued, but never to that extent.
“Why don’t you go hang out with the guys?” Anna said to Jack. She went to her tent without giving him an option.
Inside, Pippa lay peacefully on her cot. Her soft, rhythmic breathing told Anna she’d been asleep awhile. Niara, however, instead of reading a novel, as she typically did when the kids slept, stood staring out the back screen, arms folded and eyes wet.
“What’s happened?”
Her friend turned abruptly, wiping her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Anna whispered. “Didn’t you hear me come in?”
“I must have been lost in thought,” Niara said with a dismissive wave.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t Haki in here?”
“The boy is getting older.”
“But he’s still young enough to nap, or read with you. He’s playing with Kamau, Niara. That’s a little different, no?”
Niara smiled wistfully, then smoothed her shirt. “Dr. Odaba is a good male role model,” she said.
“A male role—Niara, are you saying that you like Kamau? You know...like?”
“No! Of course not,” she said. But her cheeks said otherwise. “Haki started asking questions about his father. I think this whole thing with your Jack got his mind running. We were outside near the pens and everyone could hear, and he kept going on and on....”
“It’s okay,” Anna said, pulling her into a hug. She could feel the dampness of Niara’s tears on her shoulder. She knew how embarrassed her friend must have been, being taken off guard like that by her own son. Having something so painful, something she’d kept quiet about for so long, come out in front of the keepers. All men. And Anna could see Haki persisting in spite of it all. He was just a kid with questions. Questions, she thought with a pang of gui
lt, that had surfaced because of her.
Niara straightened, pulling herself together. “I’m okay. It was just unexpected. But Dr. Odaba—”
“Kamau. How many times has he said to call him that? You don’t call me Dr. Bekker. It’s okay to call him Kamau, Niara,” Anna added softly, watching for her friend’s reaction.
Niara looked down, barely holding back a smile. Well, it was about time. She had a thing for Kamau! Anna’s mind raced and her heart bubbled like a freshly popped can of soda. This was so perfect and so...
Anna took a calming breath. If she pressed, Niara, with her gazellelike grace and beauty, would bolt like prey sensing danger. From what she’d shared years ago, she didn’t know Haki’s father, but she’d never forget his face. Anna sympathized, but there was no way she could understand what it would take for Niara to trust again. Deep down, Anna couldn’t blame her, but she wanted to see her friend happy.
“Kamau,” Niara continued. “He stepped in, acting like he was in the mood for fun, and he told Haki to save his questions for a full stomach, because they were late for a special game they needed to play, man to man. He had him at ‘man.’”
The two women laughed quietly.
“Then he told me I could go put Pippa to sleep and he’d watch Haki. That was it.”
