Every Serengeti Sunrise

by Rula Sinara

  “I don’t need my fortune told,” Maddie said, holding up the sugar and tea gifts. She should have known the water wasn’t the only reason why Pippa wanted to visit this place.

  “Oh, come on. You need a distraction after yesterday. So do I.”

  “I guess it’s not something anyone can get used to.”

  “No. You had me worried, though,” Pippa said. “Me? It shreds me to pieces every time. I’ve learned to stay out of the clinic until I’m told a baby needs a name. I can’t handle it when they don’t make it. That’s why I didn’t go to vet school. That takes a certain type of stoic strength I don’t have. If I knew you’d followed them, I would have stopped you. I’m sorry.”

  Maddie didn’t respond right away. She was still devastated by what she’d seen. It was burned in her memory. She wasn’t good at dealing with death. No, she was downright terrified of it. She’d handled the passing of her fish over the years, but that was the extent of it since her mother’s passing. Fear. It was what kept her from adopting a cat or finding a way to include a dog in her busy life. She loved each fish she’d had, but there was something about the glass between them that made her feel sheltered from the pain of loss. Safe from heartbreak.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Then don’t resist. This fortune reading will be fun. It’ll help clear your mind.”

  “Are you sure about that? The last time you did it, Laibon Leshan told you something like, ‘Enemy will make earth break and bleed.’ I fail to see your enthusiasm for dire divination. That would have given me nightmares for weeks.”

  The Laibon was the one who everyone turned to for healing and guidance, from issues of infertility to where greener pastures lay for the cattle. A medicine man and oracle all in one. And it was traditional to bring him an offering or a gift in return for requesting his help. Laibon Leshan loved getting sugar and tea.

  “Ah, but we had a small tremor a few days later. Most didn’t feel it, but I thought I did and looked it up. Sure enough, it showed up on the Richter scale readings on the geological website. Get it? Tectonic plates shifting. Small earthquake. Cracks deep in the earth are the breaks, and magma—since we didn’t have any volcanic eruptions or lava flow above ground—is the blood. He totally saw that coming.”

  “How can you have studied science and believe all this?”

  “First, because you can’t grow up here and not have the mysticism of the land and its people touch you. And second, because every scientist knows there’s so much we still don’t know or understand. Think multi-universe theory and space-time dimensions. You can never be sure where psychics like the Laibon get their stuff.”

  “The universe and multiple dimensions. Having studied geology, I’d have thought you’d be more, should I say...grounded? Then again, you always did like climbing trees.”

  Pippa laughed.

  “Maddie. You’re funnier than you think you are. Look, don’t overanalyze and ruin the fun. Call it a cultural experience for a Laibon to throw his stones for you.”

  “Okay, fine. Just this once, so you’ll leave me alone about it.”

  What could it hurt, really? Maybe he’d tell her she was going to succeed and make partnership at the law firm. Or maybe he could help stop the tension headaches she was starting to get every afternoon. Or predict whether her father would ever have full confidence in her.

  Pippa waved as they approached the enkang. The women and children waved back and called out her name, some with giggles and some with broad, bright smiles. Due to its proximity to Busara, this particular clan had known Pippa and her parents since she was a baby. Anna and Niara had been invited to special occasions here since Busara’s inception. Maddie vaguely remembered coming out to the village once, but she’d been a teenager and didn’t stay long. She’d heard about the weddings, though, from Pippa. Ahron, Busara’s head elephant keeper, who’d been there from the start, was from this clan. She’d heard that, years ago, one of his cousins had aided poachers. No one blamed Ahron or the rest of the family, but it reminded Maddie of Haki’s warning. He was trying to prevent acts of desperation.

  Maddie followed Pippa, who seemed to know where to find the group’s medicine man, but first Pippa went to the women and handed over the cloth sack she’d brought along.

  “Sopa!” Pippa called out to the group. Maddie echoed her. Their voices rang out in greeting as they eyed Maddie curiously. Pippa turned to a young woman holding a baby on her hip. “Sopa, Nashipi. Kasserian ingera?”

  “All the children are well, Pippa,” Nashipi said in accented but fluent English. “Are you Maddie? You’ve grown so much. I saw you once, many years ago, but you don’t remember me. You were with your mother, Dr. Alwanga, when she set up a day clinic here for the children.”

  Maddie grappled for any memory of Nashipi’s face, but was at a loss.

  “Sopa. It’s good to return. I think I came when I was a teenager. I can’t believe you remember me,” Maddie said in her friendliest voice. “I hope everyone is well.”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  “I brought more books for the children and a few you might enjoy,” Pippa said, handing her the sack. “Nashipi is a wonderful reading teacher,” Pippa explained to Maddie.

  “Well, I owe it to Pippa,” Nashipi said.

  “Actually, some of the first books I brought you, I had been given by Maddie here.”

  Maddie hadn’t known that. Pippa had been an extremely early reader, that she knew, so it made sense that she wanted others to read. It was why Maddie had shared her love of books with her. Knowing that some of those very books had helped Nashipi and the others here made something tender and pure bloom in Maddie’s chest.

  “Thank you, too, Maddie,” Nashipi said.

  “Sharing is an honor,” Maddie replied.

  “We’re going to see Laibon Leshan. If you need anything else, let me know before we leave. Oh, and I’ll check the water well, but if you have any messages for Dr. Alwanga, I’ll pass them on,” Pippa said. She brushed Maddie along with her free hand.

  “By the way, I sometimes speak in Maa here, but sometimes in Swahili. They speak both well, so feel free to greet with jambo instead of sopa. Laibon Leshan doesn’t speak English as far as I’ve been able to tell. Actually, he’s a man of so few words, I’ve rarely heard him speak at all. Sometimes I think he understands everything, regardless of language, but likes to act like he doesn’t. More mysterious and wise that way,” Pippa said with dramatic flair.

  Laibon Leshan sat cross-legged under an oreti, or wild fig tree, near the entrance to his inkajijik. A wooden staff lay propped across his shoulder and his weathered hands hung loosely in his lap. He looked up at Maddie and Pippa with his sun-soaked face and glassy eyes, and the air seemed to still. Too late to back out now. If she walked away, she’d be insulting him. Besides, Pippa would throw a fit. She bit the inside of her lip and steadied her breathing as Pippa presented him with their gifts. Why was she so darn nervous? She’d given her horoscope a cursory read in the newspaper occasionally. But she didn’t live by it. Standing before someone who was supposed to know, someone who had a striking, mystical presence that couldn’t be ignored, made her uneasy.

  Life was about cause and effect. A person had control over what they caused, and then they dealt with the consequences. Just like in a court case, results were supposed to be based on facts. Otherwise, judges would rule based on horoscopes and psychics and no one would ever have a fair trial.

  As a young teen, she had wondered: if the future could be seen, if danger could be avoided, could Zoe, her birth mother, have been saved? But then, with a twinge of guilt, she’d realized that she loved the people around her and loved her life. To change one part of history would mean changing it all. Or worse, what if she had to live knowing something bad was going to happen but she couldn’t do anything about it? How could she live if so
meone told her that Chad would die in service...not the given possibility, but that he would? What if it was divined that elephants would go extinct? Would people stop trying to save them? Was fate unavoidable? Or were divinations warnings that could be used as guides for free will, as motivation for change?

  Her hands felt cold, despite the heat. Pippa drew her down to sit next to her in front of the Laibon. A goatskin lay on the ground in front of him. He nodded to indicate his readiness.

  “Ask him your question or tell him what ails you,” Pippa said in a low voice.

  “I don’t know what to ask. This was your idea.”

  “Fine, then.” Pippa asked him something in Maa.

  “What did you ask?”

  “Shhhh. Just something about your future. Pay attention.”

  He studied Maddie’s face carefully, then picked up a cow’s horn and held it with the hollowed end facing her.

  “Spit in it,” Pippa whispered.

  “Spit?” Maddie hesitated. The old man moved the mouth of the horn closer to her. This is all for fun. Do it for Pippa’s entertainment and move on. She spat, though it wasn’t much considering how dry her mouth had gone.

  He rattled the horn, then flicked his wrist, sending a variety of pebbles and river stones tumbling out onto the goatskin. And there it was. Written in the stones.

  “I think my future looks at bit...rocky.” A snort escaped Maddie’s lips and Pippa elbowed her, then covered her own mouth. Maddie couldn’t help it. Tension had a way of releasing itself in the worst ways sometimes.

  “Don’t be disrespectful,” Pippa warned as she composed herself.

  “Samahani.” Maddie hoped he understood her apology in Swahili. She caught an almost imperceptible nod.

  His hand shook as he touched several of the pebbles and muttered to himself. The furrows between his brows and the lines across his forehead deepened.

  “Mbaya,” he mumbled and moved a few stones.

  Maddie’s stomach sank. Mbaya meant bad in Swahili. She knew she never should have come here. She never should have let Pippa convince her. Pippa put her hand over Maddie’s but kept her eyes on the Laibon.

  He finally looked up at Maddie.

  “You will have broken heart. Moyo,” he said, pointing at his chest and shaking his head. “Uliovunjika moyo.” He scooped up his stones and returned them to his horn. That was it?

  They both sat there. Maddie wasn’t sure what had stunned them more: that he’d spoken in English, or the part about her broken heart.

  “Sielewi. I don’t understand. A literal or figurative broken heart? Am I sick?” The Laibon didn’t answer.

  “Asante.” Pippa thanked the old man and, looping her arm around Maddie’s, pulled her into the harsh sunlight and practically dragged her toward the supplies she’d left near the jeep. “I really need that water sample. We should get to work.”

  Maddie pulled her arm out of Pippa’s grasp and dug her heels into the dry, red earth that seemed to coat everything from her boots to her lungs. She knew the tightness that spiraled down from her chest to the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with the drought or the sun prickling her skin. Pippa wasn’t being upfront about something.

  “What exactly did you ask him?” Maddie squared her shoulders and stared right at her as if she was a lawyer facing a witness on the stand.

  Pippa side-glanced at the mothers and children who were perusing the books she’d brought them. No doubt they could hear every word.

  “You want everyone to listen or do you want to follow me to the jeep so I can get my supplies?”

  Maddie reluctantly followed. A part of her didn’t care who heard. She just wanted to know what Pippa was up to right then and there. But then again, her gut told her that there was a good chance whatever Pippa had to say wasn’t something Maddie needed floating around Busara because it would no doubt make it to her parents’ ears. She had enough to think about when it came to her reputation, both with her family and career-wise. Reputation wasn’t something Pippa spent much time worrying about.

  “Out with it, Pippa. You talked me into all this. It was my reading. I have a right to know.”

  Pippa scrunched her face as she picked up her water-sample kit.

  “Don’t overreact, okay? I asked if you’d find a man to marry soon.”

  “What? Why in the world would you ask that?”

  “It’s no big deal. So the next guy you meet breaks your heart. You’ll meet another and marry him instead. Besides, what else would I ask?”

  “Hmm, let’s see...if I’ll win my case? Get a promotion? Or live to be one hundred? Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

  Was it? She could almost feel Haki’s warm, calloused fingertips brushing the back of her hand. She could hear the hope that carried in his words and read the sincerity, kindness and purpose in his deep, brown eyes. She blinked away the thought and pressed a hand to her forehead. What was happening to her? She couldn’t think like that. Thinking of Haki wasn’t supposed to stir her insides up and make her feel nauseous. He was a friend. Pippa’s guy. What was wrong with her? She quickly shifted her hand to make Pippa think she was simply shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “Well, if you plan to live a century, you should get married. I read that married people live longer,” Pippa said, heading toward the village well. Maddie trailed a few steps behind her.

  “And by your logic and my heartbroken future, I guess a long life is out of the question for me. Seriously, Pippa. After all the divorce cases I read about in school, I’m pretty sure marriage only helps if you marry the right person.”

  The knot in Maddie’s stomach tightened even more. The right person. What happened to a person’s future if their right person—their soul mate or perfect match—was taken from them? What happened if they suddenly died the way her mama, Zoe, had? Had she been Ben’s perfect match? Or had he finally met his soul mate in Maddie’s adoptive mother, Hope? She knew Ben and Hope’s love and respect for each other was timeless and immeasurable. Maybe both Zoe and Hope were his soul mates...meant to be a part of his life at different times. They’d both been destined to be a part of her father’s life and those of his children.

  Destiny... Did she believe in it? And if she was destined to get her heart broken, then maybe this ache that welled up in her chest every time she was with Haki—or even thought about him—would fade away after she returned to the States. It had to. He couldn’t be the “right man” for her if he was destined to be that man for Pippa. And if somehow he was right for both, then life was just cruel. It wouldn’t be the first time her heart had been broken. She’d experienced just how merciless life could be when her mother was killed. If anything was written in her future, it seemed to be loss.

  Suddenly the simple, half-empty rooms of her apartment back home seemed sheltered and comforting. Pippa glanced up at her as she retrieved the water sample and gave her a sheepish smile.

  “I’m sure you’ll find the man you want to spend your life with when you’re ready. Look at my Grandma Sue.”

  Sue was Anna’s mother. She was super nice and a lot of fun, but she’d struggled with severe depression most of her life. After Jack and Anna married, Sue had moved to Kenya and worked as Mac’s office manager, until she met a kind, handsome and well-to-do Greek widower on vacation with his son and grandkids. She’d finally found her happily-ever-after and was living it in Greece, but she had had her heart crushed long before she reached that fairy-tale ending.

  Pippa closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Your guy is probably a dashing lawyer in Philly, who’ll understand you and your career needs. You’ll have things in common and tons to talk about. Hey, maybe you’ve already passed each other in the hallway of some courthouse or something and you had no idea that one day he would be a part of your life. It all sounds so
romantic, doesn’t it? I must admit, though, that I’m glad I already know what my future holds. I’m so lucky to have Haki.”

  She had no idea just how lucky. Maddie rubbed at her chest, but nothing could stop the unbearable despondence that gnawed at her. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as the dirt beneath her feet. She licked her lips and swallowed back the lump in her throat.

  “You’re both lucky. I’m happy you have each other.”

  * * *

  AS WARM AS the days were, it was almost startling how cool the nights and mornings could be on the savannah. Maddie pulled on her thin, dusky purple sweater and eased the screen door shut so as not to wake up everyone in the house. The sky was still a deep indigo but for the halo around the moon. Busara’s silence was broken only by the occasional breeze rippling through tree branches, or the distant sound of nocturnal predators rustling through the dried grasses for their last kill before dawn. Even Mosi—who she was quite sure didn’t have an off switch—was sleeping quietly somewhere in the safety net of camp. She took a deep, cleansing breath. The air was sweet and fresh. The dust and sweat that filled it when the camp was alive and abuzz seemed to have settled back to the earth for a rest. Dust to dust.

  Maddie hadn’t been able to sleep any longer. The few hours she’d managed to get had been restless and cluttered with nonsensical dreams. Fatigue nipped at her muscles and every cell in her body craved a mug of hot, rich Kenyan coffee, but she didn’t dare fix herself anything in the kitchen and risk making too much noise. Waking others up would mean no alone time. God, she needed some alone time. Time to process everything that had gone on. Time to breathe and decompress. She loved her family, she really did, but as lonely as it sometimes felt, she’d gotten used to living by herself, save for her pet fish. She didn’t have to search out alone time back home. She had plenty of it, and now she realized how much she took that for granted.