2 Game Drive (11 page)

T
he invitation, handwritten on paper imprinted with the snarling leopard logo, was on my bed when I walked into Hut No. 1.

The only problem was that it had been opened, and someone large and
redheaded was reading it. Aloud.

Dear Sidney,

Please join me for dinner this evening at my home after Sundowners.
Nigel, my driver, will bring you.

—
Henrik

“Excuse me, I believe that is mine,” I said, snatching it out of his hands. “And get off my bed with your shoes. Mess up your own bed.”

“Well, well, well, little Miss Secrets,” he said, not budging an inch, but at least nudging the shoes off onto the floor. “Don’t be so huffy. It was pushed under the door and it wasn’t sealed. Confession time,
Sidney. Just what did you do to rate this little treat? Or what are you planning to do? Tell Uncle Jay, sweetheart. I won’t breathe a word to anyone, I promise.”

“Yeah, right, you bet.
Not until you needed a funny story over drinks. Where I have dinner or with whom is none of your business or anyone else’s, for that matter. And that envelope was addressed to me, not you, my nosy friend. You had no business opening it.”

He
sat up, laughing at me, and as always, enjoying my indignation. “Are you in a snit, babe? A real one?”

“Probably not, but you shouldn’t have opened my mail. Boundaries
, remember? We need some boundaries here.”

“When have we ever had boundaries, Sidney?” He got off the bed and padded over to my closet. “Now, what are we going to wear?”

When Gabriel blows the trumpet, Jay is not going to heaven unless they have designer robes. He loves a logo more than anything, so his dive into my closet for a good dinner dress was beyond disappointing for him. He came up empty. Big surprise.

“This stuff you brought is pitiful. I guess you’re stuck with wearing that black thing or the red sundress
again. Really, sweetie, when we get back home, I’m taking you shopping.”

“Great! I would love that! Does that mean you are paying?”

“Of course not,” he said as he headed to the shower to begin his evening ritual, “I’m just offering my expert advice. You know I never have any money. Neither do you, really. What you truly need is a sugar daddy to buy you a nice wardrobe. Take a lesson from Connie. What about van der Brugge? Play your cards right tonight and he might buy you a dress or two. If that doesn’t work, there’s always Silverstein. He’s got a ton of money.”

He closed the bathroom door just in time. My aim was off. The shoe just barely missed his head.

* * *

Jay was belting out a show tune in the shower, so I almost didn’t hear the faint tapping at the door.

I opened the front door, looked out, saw no one, and closed it. But the insistent tapping continued, and I finally realized that it came from the back door, the sliding glass one in the window wall on the river side.

I pushed aside the louvered wooden shutters and saw Winsome, the night maid, standing on the deck, waiting impatiently for me to unlock and open the glass.

“Winsome! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were there. I almost didn’t hear you. You should have knocked or called out, instead of tapping. Please, come in.”

“No. Miss,” she whispered, “I can stay only a moment before I am missed. I cannot come in. Please, step outside. I must speak with you, quickly.”

She seemed very nervous, her head constantly swiveling, her eyes darting back and forth as she scanned the paths, the brush, and the riverbed.

I stepped out onto the deck, sliding the wooden shutters closed behind me. “Well, here I am. What is it? You are upset, Winsome. Is something wrong?’

“Tonight, Miss,” she whispered. “Tonight I speak with Ingwe. He tells me that you are coming for dinner at the big house. Fine dinner, you know the dinner I mean, with Mr. van der Brugge.”

What is going on here? Jungle drums beating out Sidney’s dinner plans?

“Yes,” I said with a smile, “I have been invited to have dinner tonight at Mr. van der Brugge’s house. Did you say Ingwe? Is that a nickname?”

“
Ingwe is a bad man, Miss. You must stay away from Ingwe, Miss. I tell you, stay away from him. You have been kind to me, so I come to warn you. Do not spend time with him. Do not talk to him. Do not believe what he says. Only harm comes from Ingwe. That is all I can say but you must listen, must believe. I know him. Stay away from Ingwe.”

And with that she was gone, melting away into the trees and brush lining the riverbank.
She was gone, but her warning remained. I didn’t know what to think.

The door slid open behind me. Jay stood there in his bathrobe. “Sidney, I heard someone talking. Who was that? Was that Winsome? What did she want?”

I told him what she had said.

“That’s odd, but I don’t know how much stock I would put into it. He’s not exactly my type, but I have to say that van der Brugge doesn’t seem at all sinister to me. I wouldn’t let Winsome’s warning stop me if I really wanted to go.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m definitely still planning to go. I really want to see that house. It’s supposed to be fabulous, and I’m a big girl. I’m not afraid of van der Brugge. After all, he is our host. What is there to be afraid of? After all, the whole world seems to know where I’ll be dining this evening and with whom. Still, it is strange that she would sneak up here like that with a mysterious warning.”

“Winsome likes you. I can tell.”

“Yes, and I like her. I asked her what it is like to live here, far from the city, with so much beauty and danger all around. She was born near here. Her grandfather was a shaman. She told me all about her life and her family. She loves her job here, but she has ambition. She wants to move away to Johannesburg.”

Jay
scanned the thicket where Winsome had gone, as if checking to be sure she was gone. “This cryptic warning of hers is strange.”

I
followed him back into the hut, watching as he slid the glass shut and bolted it. “It is. Totally unlike her. She’s usually calm, smiling, and serene.”

“
From what I overheard, she wasn’t calm tonight.”

He headed toward the bathroom to finish getting dressed, then paused in the doorway and turned back to me as if some light bulb had just gone off in his head.

“Oh,
I
know
what it is, hon.
I
know
. She sees you as
competition
. She probably just has the hots for him, too.”

“What was that you said, Jay? What was that word?”

“You mean ‘hots’?”

“No. I mean ‘too.’ I do not ‘have the hots’ for Henrik van der Brugge. I’m just going to dinner and to see the house. That’s all.”

He laughed as he closed the bathroom door, “Whatever you say, Sid, whatever.”

* * *

The evening game drive was cancelled that night for obvious reasons. The pre-dinner sundowners were being served instead at a hippo pool downriver. Our regular schedule, Rebecca told us, would resume in the morning.

When the bell rang, we went to the pickup point outside the welcome pavilion but had to wait until the entire group was present before boarding the vehicles. Everyone was scheduled to leave together.

So we were all delayed in departing by Wendy and Tilda, who were late. They finally came rushing up the path, clearly upset.

Wendy was in tears. “All of my pictures, gone. Every last one of them.”

“What happened?” asked Connie. “Who took them?”

“Who would want them?” muttered George.

“Monkeys!” Tilda shrieked. “Nasty little thieving monkeys. They got in our hut and pulled out all our things, ate all our biscuits, pooped all over the room—even in our beds—and broke Wendy’s camera.”

“Now I don’t have any record at all of our lovely trip,” Wendy sobbed. “All of my beautiful pictures, gone.”

“How did they get in?” asked Rose. “Didn’t you lock your door?”

“We each thought the other had locked it, but we must have been mistaken. We must have left it open
.”

The blond heads of the women bobbed in agreement
to each other and then to us.

“W
as anything taken?” Fernando asked Wendy.

“Only the memory card from the camera,” she replied. “Those little boogers broke my camera all to pieces. We found most of the bits, but not the memory card. They must have taken it with them when they ran out. We looked everywhere but we didn’t find it.”

“The monkeys ran out screeching when we came in,” Tilda added. “Scared us silly! All except one, who was up on the ceiling fan, chattering. Felix had to chase him out with the broom.”

Wendy sobbed.
“The only thing taken was the record of my memories.”

Rebecca clapped her little hands.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to leave. Please take your accustomed seats in the vehicles.”

“You betcha,” George said. “Enough of this monkey business. We’re out of here!”

T
he setting for the Sundowners cocktail party at the hippo pool was totally amazing. It didn’t look real. It looked like a scene from a movie. A lavish, big budget Hollywood movie. We arrived at the water’s edge just before sunset.

The party was set up on a gently sloping grassy patch leading down to the river. This section of the river was deep, with plenty of water, despite the fact that the rains had not yet arrived. Armed guards stood on the perimeters to keep us safe, so for once, Jay relaxed. As time went on, his fear of the animals was subsiding. By the time we got back home
I was sure he would be eager to return to Africa.

Tables covered with smooth white linens and trays of wine and hors d’oeuvres had been set up at one end of the hippo pool, close to the water but far enough back so as not to disturb the animals.
Fresh flowers in glass bowls and tea lights in crystal holders centered each table. The idyllic scene was suffused in that golden late-afternoon sunlight that cinematographers sometimes refer to as “the magic hour.” The water was still, reflecting the breathtaking scene.

“Like a mirror,” I said. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, or the uncanny way the water reflected the colors of the sky.

“
Spieël
,” Mabel said.

“What?” said George.

“
Spieël
. That’s Afrikaans for mirror.”

“Oh. Okay.
Thanks for sharing.”

Mabel glared at George and walked away.
Mabel had had her long nose in an Afrikaans phrase book she had borrowed from the camp library, so she had a leg up on the rest of us in translating words from the old Dutch language.

We
were served flutes of sparkling wine and helped ourselves from a beautiful display of cheese and fruit. Waiters passed silver trays of delightful treats—mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat, marinated artichokes and prawns, tiny skewers of grilled eland. The fine wine, food, and setting were having the desired effect. Everyone relaxed and enjoyed the evening.

We received an unexpected bonus in the arrival of a magnificent black rhino at the far end of the pool.
It was almost as if the Hollywood director in my imagination had shouted “Cue the rhino!” The timing of the appearance of the great armored beast was that perfect, and that special. I felt bad for Wendy. The rhino’s appearance made her mourn the loss of her camera even more.

David was frantically motioning for all of us to gather round. For this special occasion he had added a pith helmet to his khaki safari garb.

“Gold braid, military jodhpurs and some Boer War medals will be next,” Jay murmured. “Just wait and see.”

I think he was jealous.

“Please remain near the tables and try to speak softly,” David stage-whispered. “This is
ripping
good fortune. A rhino sighting is a
rare excitement
to be
relished
and
remembered
.”

“He’s rrreally rrrrolling those Rs again,” Jay said so softly that only I could hear.

“What if he charges us?” asked Connie. “Should we run for the cars or just try to hide?”

“He will not charge,” said Vincent. “We are too far away. He likely does not even know we are here. His eyesight is poor and we are downwind of him.”

“I know that’s right,” said Connie, wrinkling her nose.

“Why is it rare and unusual to see a rhino?” asked Jay. “I thought South Africa had tons of rhinos.”

“Because they’re killing them all, that’s why,” snapped Mabel in her rude way, as if Jay was the stupidest man on the planet. “Poachers kill them for their horns. South Africa has a little over 20,000 rhinos, the most of any country in the world. That seems like a lot, but just last year poachers killed a record number, over 455 of those. The rhinos have been wiped out by ninety percent in the last forty years. Ninety percent! Where have you been that you don’t know that, Mars?”

Jay ignored her, concentrating instead on refilling his wineglass. I just hoped he wasn’t going to pour it over her head. He was in full sympathy with the plight of the rhinos, but not with Mabel. Almost every word she said irritated him. He really just couldn’t stand her, but then again, neither could anyone else. It wasn’t so much what she said as how she said it. Mabel had an unfortunate way of speaking that irritated everyone. I could see Jay steaming.

But I was reassessing my feelings toward her. If Mabel was kindhearted enough to be concerned about the rhino, she might not be so bad after all.

“Why do they want the horns?” asked Connie. “You can’t eat them and they are not very pretty.”

“For money,” Fernando said. “Big money. Powdered rhino horn sells for as much as cocaine, and for more than gold. It is a very lucrative business, operated by organized cartels.”

“It’s wicked,” said Mabel. “They paralyze them with tranquilizer guns, then hack off their horns with a machete or a chainsaw and leave them to die.”

“Amazing to learn that she has compassion for any living creature,” muttered Jay. “She hates people, but rhinos turn her on. Who knew?”

“But isn’t it hard to kill a rhino?” asked Connie. “I mean, they are so big and all and their hide is so thick. I don’t think it would be easy.”

“It is easy enough with a high-powered rifle,” said Fernando. “These poachers are not hunting with spears and popguns. They have criminal networks behind them. It is big business and they are well-supplied and financed. They use helicopters, night-vision equipment, high-powered rifles with silencers and scopes, and tranquilizers. They are skilled and very quick. They bring them down, harvest the horn, and are gone in five minutes. Sometimes they don’t kill them, only tranquilize them long enough to hack off the horn, then leave them to bleed to death.”

“That’s so brutal,” Jay said.

“Yes, it is,” replied Fernando. “And as Zimbabwe has become more lawless, poachers and arms smugglers have an easier time of it, working back and forth across the borders.”

“But why doesn’t someone stop them,” Connie said, “if everyone knows what’s happening? What about the police? Isn’t it against the law?”

“Yes, of course. The rhino is supposed to be protected and safe within the national parks. But the park rangers are outnumbered and working over a large area, and some officials have been known to look the other way. A gift of money can go a long way for a poor man and his family.”

“But what do they do with the horn?” Jay asked. “How is it used? Do they smoke it?”

“No.” Fernando laughed. “The big market is China and Vietnam, where for hundreds of years it has been an ingredient in traditional medicines. They believe it cures many things, from cancer to impotency.”

“Does it?” asked George, suddenly interested. He had been looking bored with the conversation up to that point.

“No, silly,” blurted Mabel. “It is a complete fraud. Western scientists have tested rhino horn for medicinal value and there is none.”

“You seem to know a lot about the effects of rhino horn, Fernando,” said George. “Have you personally tried it?”

“No, my friend, but perhaps you should. It is totally unnecessary for me.”

“Zing!” said Jay. “He got you that time, George.”

“It is no laughing matter, and only ignorant fools like you and George would think so,” shouted Mabel. “If I saw even a hint of anything like that going on, I would report it immediately to the highest authority. And I would not rest until the perpetrators were punished.”

Mabel’s shrill voice had risen to such a fever pitch that it even attracted the attention of the bored guards. I saw them exchange glances.

For the first time on the trip Mabel had everyone’s attention, so she climbed up on her soapbox and spent the rest of the time preaching to anyone who would listen until it was time to leave. Even those in total agreement with her about the rhino poaching also knew that she had managed to spoil a splendid evening.

“Listening to her makes me want to root for the other side.” George said. “That woman is so unbearable. I wish a poacher would just buzz over in his helicopter and take her out instead of the rhino.”

“Hush, George,” I said, “everyone can hear you. Mabel will hear you.”

“I hope she does. Maybe then she’d be insulted enough to never speak to me again. That’s what I would really like.”

“Well at least she wants to help the poor animals,” said Connie.

“Connie, George is right,” Jay said. “Animals or no animals, that woman is utterly horrible. Poison. I can’t stand her. I feel so sorry for poor Rose. If I were staying in the same room with Mabel
, I think I would just suddenly snap and choke her to death with my bare hands just to get her to shut up. Imagine having to listen to that 24/7.”

“Excuse me, Miss Marsh,” Vincent interrupted. “Nigel, Mr. van der Brugge’s driver,
is here to collect you for dinner. Please come this way. He is waiting in the car.”

“Well, well, well,” said Jay
. “Now isn’t that nice? Off you go to the fancy dinner with the big man in the big house, Sidney, while we’re stuck here with the lovely Mabel. Even the rhino’s left. He couldn’t take her voice, either. Have a good time, sweetie, and remember, when you get back, I expect a full report.”