by Rula Sinara
“How much planning does he need? We have a place to live. He has a career and a job.”
“If I were Haki, I wouldn’t want to live at Busara with both families if I got married. Too many people. It’s a rescue center, not a compound. So he’d need to be able to afford a place of his own. Maybe he’s saving up and wants to surprise you.”
Pippa frowned and picked at her cuticle.
“I guess, but it doesn’t make sense to leave since he works there. We could just put up our own small house, possibly where the old tents used to be. Why have a commute when you don’t have to? He already drives enough.”
“Maybe you’re right. Just give him time,” Maddie said.
Pippa hopped off the bed and gave her a hug.
“It’ll happen sooner than later, I’m sure, and when it does, you have to swear that even if you have the biggest case on your hands, you’ll be here for the wedding. Promise?”
“Of course.”
She meant it. She did. Pippa was like a little sister. Her happiness meant everything to Maddie. She took another sip of water and hoped it would wash away the bittersweet feeling that clung to her chest like morning dew on the branches of a weeping willow. She took a second sip to drown her guilt and to bury her secret as deep as the ocean she’d crossed to get here.
“Pippa, I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”
* * *
THE SKY BEYOND the valley was deep scarlet this time. Yesterday, it had been streaked with bands of carnelian and amethyst. It was never the same. Each evening promised an unexpected blend of colors. Every sunset promised change. It was Haki’s favorite time of day.
“Checkmate.” Kamau leaned back in the rocker on the front porch of the Busara house and linked his hands behind his head. “You’re losing your touch.”
Haki scrutinized the board and retraced their last few moves. He really was losing his touch. His father hadn’t beaten him in at least six months.
“I don’t see it. What happened?”
“Your knight. Three moves ago,” Kamau said, indicating how he’d created a weakness.
Haki had made one wrong choice and left himself vulnerable. He held his head in his hands for a moment, then scrubbed at the stubble on his jaw and sat back in defeat.
“I can’t believe I did that.” He picked up the wooden box that housed the chess-and-checkers set that Kamau had given him as a gift when he was only six, right after Haki found out that Kamau was going to marry his mother and become the father he never had. Kamau had taught him to play checkers even before that, but back then they used to sit on overturned buckets outside the tent that had served as the camp’s kitchen and dining area. And Kamau used to let him win. He began putting away the pieces.
“Your mind wasn’t here. I could tell I had a chance halfway through the game. Anything I can help with?”
Haki shook his head. “Just tired. Long day.”
The camp had quieted; even the baby elephants were sound asleep in their pens with their keepers, but the ebb and flow of insects crying out for their mates rippled through the air like waves licking at the parched, hot sand. Nightfall masked the harsh effects of the drought. It masked a lot of things. But Haki’s father had a way of seeing through veils, even in the dark.
“Perhaps you should have taken the day off and flown with them to Nairobi.”
“No need,” Haki said quickly. He closed the wooden case.
“I said nothing about need.”
Haki smiled and stood.
“Are you going to try to checkmate me all evening? Don’t let one win go to your head.”
Kamau laughed and pushed back his chair.
“All right. Deflect, but you know I’m here if you need to talk, or gain insight into the minds of women...or for tips on how to win at chess,” he added with a chuckle.
“Hey,” Haki said, shaking his finger at him. “Tomorrow will be the start of my next winning streak. You’ve been warned.”
Kamau left the screen door creaking to a close behind him and Haki caught a glimpse of his younger brother, Huru, sketching in the family room. At fifteen, an age when most kids wallowed in hormones and angst, Huru was as mellow as they came. Maybe he channeled it all into his artwork—there was no doubt he had a gift—but sometimes Haki had to wonder if names carried enough power to define a person, or if it was the emotional state of the mother at the time of naming and rearing the child that made all the difference. Huru had always had a carefree way about him. Free, just as his name meant in Swahili, or perhaps how their mother felt at his birth: married, happy and loved, unlike how she’d been when Haki was conceived in an act of violence. Haki meant justice. And there had never been a time when he didn’t find himself wanting it. Wanting those who caused pain and harm to be held accountable, wanting to be sure he’d always be the kind of honorable man Kamau was...and not like the criminal whose blood he shared.
* * *
MADDIE CLOSED HER room door gently and tiptoed downstairs. Everyone but Simba and Chuki, who lived nearby, had opted to stay the night, rather than fly out of Nairobi in the dark. Her uncles had crashed in Chad’s empty room and Pippa was hogging most of her bed. Not that it mattered, given that Maddie couldn’t sleep. It was almost midnight, but for her it felt like midafternoon.
She turned on the kitchen light and squinted until her eyes adjusted. Maybe some chamomile tea would help her get sleepy. What she really needed was to force herself not to nap during the day. The one she’d taken on the way home from the airport had given her a second wind.
She set her laptop on the kitchen butcher block and went to put a kettle of water on the gas stove. If sleep wasn’t happening then work was. She needed to be prepared for tomorrow. The last thing she wanted was for the lawyers overseeing the case to call up Levy and ask him why he’d sent them someone clueless. She pulled up a stool and flipped open her computer.
“A bit late for work.”
She startled but immediately relaxed when her dad put his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She closed her eyes briefly and took it in. Moments like this, his love felt unconditional. Earlier, he’d wrapped her in a bear hug that she never wanted to leave. There was no mistaking he loved her. But that only made it more hurtful when he was critical. She closed her laptop. Maybe just tonight, this first night, she could avoid a serious conversation with him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “But you should be. I hope I didn’t make too much noise.”
“Nah.” He padded over to the fridge and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He held it up for her to see, then unwrapped it. “I tell you, I’m spoiled. Made and waiting for me.”
“A sandwich at this hour?”
“Peanut butter and honey. My go-to late-night snack. You want one? It’ll help you sleep. I can’t sleep if I’m hungry.”
“No, thanks. I ate so much at dinner. Hunger isn’t my problem.”
As much as he’d eaten, she couldn’t imagine why he’d be hungry, but then again, his work was quite physical.
“You look great, Mads.” He took a bite. “Tired, but great. They treating you well at that firm? Good health-care coverage? They’re not bumming off their worst cases on you, are they?”
So much for the warm fuzzies.
“I’m happy there, Dad, and yes, I’m covered. I did read the fine print when I signed on with them. It’s a habit they teach in law school.” The kettle began whistling and she hurried to turn off the stove so it wouldn’t wake anyone.
“I don’t doubt it. Good habit, too. So is carrying pepper spray, or better yet, not leaving work alone after dark.”
“Dad, I’m twenty-six. I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry.”
“You work in Philadelphia. Big cities have crime problems. Predators lurk in
parking lots after dark. If you leave the building every night at the same time, they’ll catch on to your pattern.”
“I know. You went over every safety tactic when I left for college, and I haven’t forgotten the self-defense moves you taught me, either. Luckily, I haven’t had to use them. Do you want a mug of tea with that?” she asked as she poured water on some loose chamomile, dried from the garden.
“No, I’ll grab some milk in a sec.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
“Thanks. Did you hear that Chad got promoted? Lance corporal.”
“Mom didn’t mention that. Just that he was okay.”
“Yep. He’s okay. More than okay. He’s working his way up.”
“That’s good.” Chad had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. No doubt he’d command a unit someday. Obviously, their dad was proud.
“Ryan and Philip are both at the top of their classes, too. Smart boys.”
“It’s so good to see them. I can’t get over how tall they are.”
“So what’s this case you’re here for? If I have any contacts who can help, let me know.”
He had to ask. She set a glass of milk next to him, then cradled her mug of tea as she sat down. Might as well put it out there and deal with the backlash.
“I’ll be stopping by our sister office tomorrow to meet with the barristers, but I’ll also need to spend time in some of the villages. I’m thinking of staying at Busara or Camp Jamba Walker and taking day trips to talk to the village elders and leaders. I’ll be looking into the hardships some of the farmers are experiencing and getting testimony in their defense.”
“Defense of what?” Ben took his last bite of sandwich and brushed the crumbs off his hands.
“A proposal was submitted that calls for harsher punishments against Masai farmers who kill elephants. We intend to have it thrown out.”
His brow furrowed and he cocked his head.
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that they’re already enduring hardship and the fines proposed are beyond anything they could afford. The prison terms would prevent families from being able to keep up with their farms or generate income to feed their children and survive.”
“What are you doing, Mads?” He got up, shaking his head, and dumped the last sip of his milk in the sink. “Of all cases, why would you take this on?”
“What do you mean? Why would I fight for human rights? That seems like a no-brainer to me.”
“What about animal rights? You know what goes on out there. Half of your family works to fight poaching. You lived here. You know this. That proposal is needed to discourage native tribes from aiding and abetting. Busara is about elephant rescue. You plan to stay there and expect them to take you around so you can fight this?”
“This isn’t about poachers. We’re not trying to encourage elephant killing. You know I wouldn’t do that. This is about protecting the only land the tribes have left. It’s about protecting their livelihood.”
Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed the back of his neck. This was going about as well as she’d expected. Every ounce of confidence she’d been mustering up for tomorrow sank to her feet. Why did conversations with him always leave her feeling confused and plain bad? She put down her steaming mug and gathered her laptop. Even if she didn’t sleep, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling would be better than arguing.
“Maddie, you need to tell them you can’t work on this case.”
“I can’t do that and you don’t get to make that call. My future depends on me helping to win this. This is what I do.”
“What about conflict of interest?”
“I don’t understand. There’s no conflict of interest, especially not if we win.” The only conflict is between the two of us right now.
“Maddie. I’ve personally seen that proposal, and I support it. It was submitted by a wildlife advocacy group and has the backing of Busara and other rescue groups around the national parks. I have no doubt it’ll get passed.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Haki helped put it together. He, of all men, won’t stand by and watch you tear it apart.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDIE ARRANGED IT so she could fly out west to Camp Busara with Pippa, Jack and Mac midday, after reporting to the law office that morning. Her dad had promised to stay out of it and not call Haki with a briefing. She wanted the chance to talk to him in person. If he’d worked on the proposal, then all she had to do was get through to him. Haki was a listener. He’d hear her out.
The aerial view of Busara, nestled on a plateau with the river valley to one side and grasslands to the other, was nothing short of spectacular. A lone acacia tree shaded a small observation platform Dr. Bekker used when watching the herds passing through the valley. Lush groves of wild fruit trees flanked the camp, giving it the appearance of an oasis. She could even spot several keepers in rimmed hats leading the baby elephants in their care out for some sun and socializing. A cloud of dust trailed along the road beneath Mac’s helicopter and turned into the camp ahead.
“Haki just got back,” Pippa said into the mic of her headpiece. She pointed at the man shielding his eyes and looking up.
A flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension swirled in Maddie’s stomach. She nodded to let Pippa know she saw him.
Mac began his descent into a clearing just far enough from the camp to keep the draft from kicking up a dirt storm. She waited for the all clear, then removed her headgear, hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder and managed to climb out of the chopper without stumbling. Pippa grabbed her hand and tugged her at a jogging pace toward the jeep.
“Look who’s here, Haki!” She ran to his side, then stretched out her arms and made a show of presenting Maddie. Sometimes the pep in Pippa was too much.
Haki stood there, his strong jawline softened with a few days’ worth of stubble that looked disconcertingly good on him. His shoulders seemed broader, too, unless it was the dark green shirt he wore with his khakis and the way his hands rested on his hips. He’d put on a few pounds of muscle for sure. The corner of his mouth lifted and he let his gaze rest on her for a few seconds.
“Maddie-girl. Finally here.”
She ducked her head and smiled. Why did she suddenly feel shy?
“It has been a while, Haki. Pippa says you’re becoming quite the hero around here.”
He shot Pippa an annoyed glance and let his hands fall to his sides.
“No. Nothing I’ve done comes close to what others do here. But I hear you’re on your way to becoming a world-famous lawyer.”
“Not even close. Pippa,” she admonished. Was he being sarcastic? Had someone already told him what she was here for?
“We could use good counsel around here,” he said.
So he didn’t know.
“Both of you are much too humble,” Pippa said.
Haki put a hand to his shirt.
“I wanted to shower. I mean, I thought I’d make it back ahead of you—all of you—and have time to clean up.”
Mac’s chopper whirred as it lifted off. The air current pushed past them, and Maddie quickly pulled her arms back and wrapped them around her waist before anyone realized she almost went in for a hug.
“Hey, Dr. Hak-man, do you know if Anna is here or off in the field?” Jack asked, walking past them and giving him an air salute.
“I just got here. Last radio communication, my father was out, so she’s probably in the clinic.”
“I’ll check. See you guys at dinner,” he called back.
“Sounds good. I’m going to head in to wash up,” Haki said, thumbing toward the house. “I’ll see you two afterward.”
No hug, then. Friends hugged, didn’t they? Even if he’d
been covered in mud from head to toe, it shouldn’t have mattered. This all felt so anticlimactic, but what had she expected? They’d both been so busy the past few years that they hadn’t seen much of each other even when she’d visited her parents. She hadn’t made the effort. So why did it matter now? Because she was afraid he’d hate her by tomorrow?
Pippa looped her arm in Maddie’s and they made their way to the house, purposefully lagging behind Haki. His long, focused strides made it easy.
“Dr. Hak-man? Really?”
“My dad is silly when he’s in a good mood. He doesn’t get that it annoys Haki. By the way, you have to find time for a reading while you’re out here,” Pippa said.
“No way. I don’t need my fortune told. I have enough in my head without cluttering it with nonsense. Besides, it’s kind of overstepping. It’s a tribal custom, not a tourist attraction.”
“You’re not a tourist and you’ll be right there talking to the villagers and elders anyway. One reading wouldn’t be disrespectful or overstepping. It would show that you respect their ways.”
The aroma of freshly baked chapati wafted past them and Maddie inhaled deeply.
“Why is the mere smell of freshly baked bread like a drug? I don’t need to eat anything else but that while I’m here.”
“You’re switching subjects.”
“I’m not promising anything.” She had to admit, Pippa had a point about respecting the Masai culture. It was all in fun, though, right? Or was it? The one reading she’d done, back when she was seventeen, had come so close to the truth it made her nervous. The Laibon had taken one look at his stones and told her she would go far away. Journey far. Leave. Those had been his words. She hadn’t yet told anyone that she’d been applying to colleges in the US, not even Haki or Pippa. She hadn’t told anyone she’d desperately needed to get away. To escape. To live without parents or siblings constantly checking over her shoulder. The Laibon had known, though. Whether it had truly been the stones, or the old man had simply guessed it from her notoriously expressive face, he’d been right. And it had freaked her out a little.
