Mists of the Serengeti(30)

“Not a cheetah. A leopard.” We were so close that Jack’s breath stirred my hair as he spoke. “They’re easy to confuse because they both have spots. Cheetahs have solid black spots and black tear lines that run from the corner of their eyes. Leopard spots are clustered, like rosettes. Leopards are also bigger and more muscular. They’re not built for speed like cheetahs, but what they lack in speed, they make up for in stealth and power. They’ll often carry their prey high up in the trees to prevent other predators from eating them.”

I watched the leopard’s belly rise and fall with each breath. I thought of it slipping through the tall Savanna grass with scarcely a ripple, lunging on its unsuspecting quarry, and exerting a lethal hold with its powerful jaw.

“Number three of the Big Five,” I said, with a bit of shudder.

“You still cold?”

“I’m fine,” I said, tilting my face to him.

The sun was directly behind him, framing his thick, untamed hair like a golden mane.

I wonder if he goes at it like Mufasa, Mo.

“What’s so funny?” Jack caught my grin.

“Nothing.” I glanced away. “Sometimes I have these weird conversations with my sister.”

“It had something to do with me, didn’t it?” he asked, as if talking to my dead sister was a completely normal thing to do. Then again, maybe it was something he could relate to.

“Do you do that?” I asked. “Do you ever speak to Lily?”

“I can’t.” The fences came back up around him, like I’d wandered in too far and touched something he didn’t want anyone to see, something personal and raw and painful. “I can’t . . . face her.”

My heart constricted. Jack was too guilt-ridden to have a conversation with his daughter. Even an imaginary one. Because he hadn’t been able to get to her in time. Because she had died alone. I wanted to say something, but I kept my mouth shut. Telling someone to get over something like that was bullshit.

“If you can’t speak, just listen,” I said. “Maybe one day you’ll hear what she’s saying.”

I squeezed past him through the open roof and took my seat. We drove in silence until we got to a patch of tall, yellow-barked trees. Vervet monkeys swung from the dense canopy, and birds flitted through the branches.

“The Lerai Forest,” said Jack.

“Oh, Jack. Look!” I squeezed his arm and pointed into the shady thicket.

A massive elephant was rubbing itself against a tree, its large tusks dragging in the dirt.

“It’s an old bull. Most of the crater elephants are male,” said Jack. “The large breeding herds only descend here occasionally.”

“Why is he doing that? Rubbing up against that tree?”

“Probably scratching himself. Or getting rid of parasites on his skin.” He leaned forward and squinted through the binoculars. “Maybe he’s just horny.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, I burst out laughing. “Are you checking out his schlong?”

Jack glanced at me sideways. “Did you just snort, Rodel Emerson?”

“It was a chortle.”

He sat back and folded his arms. “You snorted. And you call a dick a schlong.”

“Mo said I should come down here so she could show me an elephant’s schlong.”

“In that case, mission accomplished.” He made an imaginary check mark in the air and passed me the binoculars. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

“No, thank you. I don’t need to see his . . . his schlong.” I was pretty sure my cheeks had turned beetroot red, or maybe a bright shade of scary cherry.

“Oh, my God. You’re shy. You’re coloring up like the Serengeti sunset.” Jack was grinning. A full-fledged ear-to-ear smile that was completely dazzling.

“Can we just go?” I handed him back the binoculars.

“Hang on to those,” he said, starting the car up again. “We’ll probably see some more schlongs up ahead.”

The color receded from my cheeks as we drove through the dappled forest, but the buzz remained—the high I got from seeing this man smile.

We sighted baboons, waterbucks, and more elephants tearing off branches and stuffing them in their mouths.

“It doesn’t look like we’re going to get all of the Big Five today,” said Jack, as we approached the ascent back up to the rim. “No rhino sighting.”

“Four out of five isn’t so bad,” I replied, looking down at the crater.

Lines of cars traversed the plains below, whipping dust clouds in their wake. A pride of lions sprawled under the shade of a tree, while a Maasai grazed his cattle within stone’s throw. A few paces away, a newborn zebra nuzzled up to its mother on unsteady legs. With the mist now gone, the crater was visible all the way up to the forested rim. A handful of white clouds lingered, casting dark shadows on the floor.

Had Mo stopped here to take in the same view? I wondered. Even though she was gone, I felt closer to her for having been there. It was like touching the shadow of her soul.

“Thank you,” I said to Jack. “I don’t think I’m ever going to forget it.”

The blue of his eyes held me for a heart-skipping instant. Everything seemed hushed and bare.

It was a while before he spoke, and his voice was soft but loaded. “Me neither.”