by Parnell Hall
The tents, of course, were pitched along the river. It was beautiful in the setting sun. Alice got out the camera and began snapping shots, one of which I was sure would wind up as the screen saver on her computer.
Dinner was served on a square table big enough to seat us all. It was set out in the open by the campfire. There was also a table with coffee, liquor, and cold drinks.
Trish had bourbon, which I figured she needed after the lion. She drank it off fairly quickly, poured another. The librarians had gin and tonics, which they sipped decorously. Victoria had wine. So did Annabel, though she poured it grudgingly, as if unhappy to emulate her sister. Clemson, Keith, and Jason were having beer. I got the impression they’d be having more than one.
Dinner was served by the staff, who won our hearts by announcing fish, then lost them by serving it. The fish was whole, not filleted, burnt on the outside, raw on the inside. It had been gutted, but not well. It smelled vaguely like dried vomit. No one ate much, but no one complained. A lot of bread was consumed.
I wanted to bring up the murder, but there was no chance. Talk was all about what we’d seen on the river. Every now and then someone would make a Trish face, but the hysteria was over.
We were picking our way through some sort of bread pudding that appeared to have been made without bread when Clemson raised his hand and said “Shhh!”
I hadn’t heard a thing, and I doubt if anyone else had either.
Clemson had his head up, scenting the wind. I wondered if he actually was. It was pitch dark and there was no sound.
Clemson raised his finger to his lips, stood up, and said “Come on.”
It was like when he set off after the lion. No one wanted to be left behind.
I had my headlight around my neck. So did Alice. We’d slipped them on when we went to dinner because it was getting dark, but not dark enough to need them yet. Anyway, I could have put the light on, but I’d have rather been shot dead. Which was entirely likely. Clemson was armed and wouldn’t be happy.
I joined the pack tiptoeing behind Clemson in the dark. For the most part we were quiet. There was one sharp, whispered, “Stop it!” from Victoria, probably indicating that Keith had gotten fresh, but that was it.
Clemson led us into an open meadow that sloped slightly uphill away from the river. Halfway through the field he stopped and his flashlight clicked on. It was aimed at the ground and he was shielding the beam with his fingers.
All that could be seen were a hundred pairs of eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Annabel shrieked in terror.
And the eyes turned in our direction.
Clemson raised the flashlight.
In the meadow, staring at us, was an entire herd of water buffalo, black horned creatures, each the size of a Mack truck, any one of which was capable of goring us and trampling us into the ground.
If Clemson had meant to reassure Annabel by revealing the source of her fright, he had badly miscalculated. She went further over the edge, and the level of her shrieks increased exponentially. The only way Clemson could have shut her up was to shoot her.
Victoria saved the day, leaping in front of her sister, a human shield, protecting her while calming her down with gentle ridicule.
“Come on,” Clemson whispered. “No one run. Walk away quietly. I’m going to douse the light.”
He did. It seemed even darker than before, now that our eyes had adjusted to the light.
This precipitated a fresh squeal from Annabel, but she quickly muffled it, and we managed to sneak back to the campfire.
“How long have they been there?” Alice wanted to know.
“Since the end of dinner,” Clemson said.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I heard them coming.”
I hadn’t heard a thing. Of course, our ears weren’t trained for it, but still it was pretty impressive.
“Well,” Clemson said, “it’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer, so you probably want to get to sleep.”
“Sleep?” Annabel said. “How can we sleep with those animals out there? We’re apt to be trampled in our beds.”
“Water buffalo aren’t interested in tents,” Clemson said. “They can’t eat them, so they just go around them. It’s perfectly safe.”
“What do you mean, tomorrow will be longer?” Simon said.
I could understand his concern. Trish’s husband had not had an easy time paddling.
“Today we got a late start because we had to have a lesson. Now you know how to paddle.” Clemson looked at Simon dubiously. “More or less. Anyway, you’re as good as you’re going to get, so there’s nothing to do but throw you in the stream.”
I could have paddled Trish, and let Simon go with Bono. Prudence kept me from suggesting it. Alice would never let me hear the end of it, fancying myself the young hero, leaping into the breach and rescuing the fair Trish. Her husband couldn’t be too pleased either.
We all took Clemson’s advice and headed back to our tents. I asked the staff men to fill our sink, so we could flush the toilet.
It was nice that the staff were all Zimbabwean and could not have figured in Daniel’s death, so I didn’t have to watch them closely for signs of guilt.
Alice and I washed up, brushed our teeth, got into bed.
The cot was in worse repair than the ones in bush camp. I had a feeling that if I lifted the mattress up, some of the springs would be missing.
It didn’t matter. Clemson was right. The events of the day had been exhausting. It wouldn’t take much to get to sleep.
As I drifted off, one image haunted me.
It wasn’t the hundreds of eyes gleaming in the dark. Or the close herd of water buffalo that appeared when he clicked on the light.
It was the sight of Victoria, leaping in front of her sister to calm her down.
Clearly, despite all protestations to the contrary, Victoria actually loved her sister, and would do anything to protect her.
Including murder?
36
HIGH WIND
I WOKE UP AND THE wind was blowing. No one realized the significance until Clemson brought it up at breakfast, which that morning was eggs and oatmeal and the ever-popular campfire toast. We had all taken our portions and were sitting around the big table when Clemson dropped the bomb.
“If the wind keeps up, we can’t go out on the river.”
The announcement was greeted with shock and surprise.
“Why not?” Pam wanted to know. She was the librarian who had stood in line with me outside the shower, and I’d figured out her name by remembering she had referred to the other librarian as Edith, making her Pam. A small victory, but mine own. I hadn’t solved the murder, but I had named the librarians.
“It’s too rough to paddle,” Clemson said. “It would be dangerous.”
I took that seriously. Lots of things were dangerous, and Clemson did them anyway.
“What if it dies down?” Alice said.
“If it dies down, we go. If it’s like this, we don’t. Look at those whitecaps. As long as the river’s like that, it’s not safe.”
“It looks okay to me,” Keith said. It was a typical Keith remark, macho, arrogant, and stupid. I was delighted to see that no one paid any attention.
“So what do we do instead?” Edith said. I nailed the name easily, didn’t even have to think about it.
“We have a game hike,” Clemson said.
There were universal groans.
“Yes, I know, that’s what you’ve been doing, and you came here to do something different. Trust me, it will be different.”
“How?” Simon wanted to know. Freed from paddling, he was the only one who seemed happy to hike.
“For one thing, I’ll be leading it. For another, we’ll all walk together. No need to split into groups.”
“How come we can do that here?”
“Because we don’t have a ranger, so we don’t have to play by their rules. Beli
eve me, we’ll have fun. We’ll set out here, hike around, be back between eleven and twelve. If the wind’s died down, we’ll be on the river after lunch. So, go back to your tents, get what you need out of your river bag, pack your backpack. You take water, sunscreen, hat, binoculars, camera if you want one. Trust me, you’ll want one.”
“How do you know?” Alice said.
“Because I’ve been here before. Okay, meet back here in twenty minutes.”
I followed Alice back to the tent.
“You know, there’s a lot of things you could do in twenty minutes,” I said.
Alice ignored the remark, began packing her backpack. Nearly everything in her river bag came out and went in. The only thing she didn’t need was the waterproof bag for her camera, her second line of defense against getting it wet.
I didn’t really want to bring the movie camera. My backpack was heavy enough with just the water, particularly if Clemson started running again. But if I didn’t, we’d see something special and Alice would never forgive me.
I tugged the camera out of the river bag, put it in the backpack. That was basically it. I didn’t take sunscreen. Alice burns, but I tan, and when I use sunscreen I always get the damn stuff in my eyes and wind up squinting all day. My binoculars I wore in the harness. My hat I wore on my head. The water bottle I had to pick up off the table when we left.
I took out the camera, checked the battery to see if I’d accidentally left it on and run the damn thing down. Not that there was anything I could do about it. I didn’t have another battery, and there was no time to charge it. But if it was dead, I could leave it behind.
It was fully charged. Stanley Hastings Productions was in business.
I went out, retrieved our water bottles, joined the group.
“Oh, that’s what I forgot,” Simon said. “We need our water bottles.”
“Oh,” Trish said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get them,” he said, and headed for the table.
I felt his pain. Unsuccessful at paddling, the poor man was trying to get back in her good graces by being useful retrieving water.
“Okay,” Clemson said. “Same drill as before. Single file, follow me, keep up, Bono will bring up the rear.
He set off into the bush.
Annabel was right on his heels. She must have learned the concept that sticking with him was safest. She aced Alice out. It was no contest. She stood next to him during the briefing, was glued to him when he took off.
Naturally Victoria took off with her, which made Keith third and Jason fourth. The librarians came next, followed by Simon and Trish, who didn’t want to be last. That honor was left for me and Alice.
I was bummed out. I had planned on jumping in behind Alice and being in the front of the line for once, instead of on the end. But, oh no, there I was, right in front of Bono.
I wondered if that meant Alice would be the one to walk by the lion.
We left camp through the water buffalo meadow. There was not a water buffalo to be seen. I was glad.
Clemson turned left, went down what was almost a path into another clearing, and there was an elephant. No one was alarmed. Those with cameras at the ready began snapping shots. Those without dug in their backpacks for theirs. I dug in mine, whipped out the movie camera, snapped it on.
We were on the edge of the clearing. The elephant was in the middle. His head swung toward us.
“Okay,” Clemson said. “Let’s all back up toward that tree.”
He moved slowly backward to do so. We followed suit. There was a mound of dirt around the tree, making it impossible to reach the trunk. Clemson leaned up against it, half sitting, half standing. We lined up next to him, supported ourselves with the dirt, raised our cameras.
“Okay,” Clemson said. “How many of you have been up close with an elephant?”
I don’t know why he asked us that. The first camp had been full of elephants. We’d all had close encounters, most of us more than one. Which is why we weren’t panicking.
“Stay calm. Don’t move,” Clemson said.
The elephant began slowly lumbering toward us. I put the camera on record, watched through the viewfinder.
The elephant got bigger, and bigger, and bigger.
It charged!
Oh, my god!
It was ready for its close-up and I wasn’t.
I felt an amazing adrenaline rush of blind fear. I flinched, my feet slipped in the dirt, I slid sideways and plunked down on my back, the camera pointing every which way except at the elephant. I braced my elbows into the dirt mound and looked up.
The elephant had stopped. He was close, as Clemson had said, but he wasn’t in our laps. His tusks weren’t in anyone’s chest, and his feet weren’t on anyone’s toes. Basically a win-win.
“You might want to get up,” Clemson said. “You’re lying in a termite mound.”
“What?”
“That’s what the big mound of dirt is.” Clemson grinned. “You know the expression ants in your pants?”
I looked around and everyone was laughing. Of course they were. I looked damn silly.
Oh!
I suddenly realized that I’d just become Trish.
I wondered if I’d made a Stanley face.
37
GAME DRIVE, CLEMSON STYLE
I WAS WRONG ON ALL counts. No one was laughing at me. They were laughing at themselves, nervous relieved laughter at the various degrees of panic they had experienced when the elephant charged.
“Ralphie’s very inquisitive,” Clemson explained as we sat around eating lunch. We were back in camp after a relatively uneventful hike. Don’t get me wrong, we saw zebras, warthogs, giraffes, and impalas, and even tracked but never saw a smaller cat of some sort, but after the elephant everything seemed tame.
“You know this elephant?” Alice said.
“That’s Ralphie. He often hangs out here.”
“You let him scare us to death,” Annabel said.
“You were never in any danger.”
“You knew that. We didn’t.”
“Would it have been as much fun if you had?” Clemson asked.
“Fun, schmun,” Victoria said. “I nearly peed in my pants.”
Everyone laughed except Keith, who seemed to find the image disturbing, humanizing his goddess. How did he think she marked her territory, with little flags?
He stomped off to the river, was back moments later. “The wind’s died down,” he said. “The river looks calm.”
The upper branches of the trees punctuated his statement by swaying ominously.
“Sorry,” Clemson said. “I don’t think we’ll get on the river today.”
That pleased no one but Simon. And I think Trish was a little relieved too.
“Oh, come on,” Keith said. “We paid good money for this.”
“Yes, you did,” Clemson said. “But I can’t guarantee good weather. Any more than I can guarantee you’ll see a lion. We’ve had very good weather, and we’ve not only seen a lion, but a lion has seen us. You’re getting your money’s worth. It may not be exactly according to schedule, but schedules are subject to change. You gotta be flexible. Remember we came here a day early. If we want to spend an extra day on the river to make sure we get in the canoes, we can do it.”
“And then we lose a day on the other end,” Keith said. “What’s on the schedule that we’re going to lose?”
Clemson smiled slightly. “A hike and a game drive. The walk this morning was different, wasn’t it? The game drive will be different too.”
The game drive was just like every other game drive we’d been on, except Clemson was driving.
I was in Clemson’s jeep. I made sure of that, skipping a trip to the unflushable toilet and heading straight for the jeep after lunch. Turned out I needn’t have bothered. We were all in Clemson’s jeep. Three in each seat, and one up front with him. Bono stayed behind. For the game drive, Clemson was driver, guide, spotter, and ranger. For him, it didn
’t seem unreasonable.
Keith was torn between riding shotgun with Clemson and sitting next to Victoria. The librarian named Pam solved the problem for him by climbing into the front seat with Victoria and Annabel. That left one librarian for me and Alice, but she opted for Trish and Simon. That left the moody, sullen Jason, next to Keith my least favorite traveling companion. He climbed in next to me. Alice, of course, had the side seat for her camera, so I was stuck in the middle. Sullen tourists to the left of me, wives to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with you.
I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted to say to Jason. That seemed to suit him just fine. He sat, sipped his water, fidgeted with his ring. I wondered if it was a wedding ring. If so, I wondered if he’d killed his wife.
All aboard, we took off in the jeep in quest of adventure. We found none. The dirt road we were bumping along wasn’t much, but it was definitely a road. We occasionally passed vehicles heading in the other direction. I wondered if they knew something.
We saw a few animals, but nothing worth stopping for.
After a while, Alice put her camera in her lap. She leaned across me to Jason.
“First time in Africa?”
He didn’t hear her. At least he didn’t believe she was talking to him. He looked up, saw that she was. “What?”
“Is it your first time on safari?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Us too. We’ve never been anywhere. It something I’ve always wanted to do.”
He smiled vaguely, nodded, said nothing.
“You travel much?” Alice said.
“Just for my job.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
I got the impression he was torn between answering the question and telling her to go to hell.
“I work for an insurance company.”
“You sell insurance?”
“I hate to say that. People are afraid I’ll make a pitch.”
