Mists of the Serengeti(57)

I stared at him for a few seconds. “So that’s it? They’re gone?” I looked up and down the row of sagging huts. “I mean, good for them. Really. But this is just so frustrating! Three kids, three strikes. What are the chances? I didn’t even get to one of Mo’s kids. Not one! And now we’re stuck here—no car and no phone service. Tell me they have a mechanic, Jack. Someone who can fix the car?”

“No mechanic, but there’s a bus that comes around. We can take it to go get the spare parts.”

“Okay. That’s good.” I wasn’t just dealing with the crushing disappointment of having let my sister down, I also felt terrible for dragging Jack away from the farm. It had amounted to nothing but a wild goose chase. “How long before it gets here?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“It comes by once a week.”

“There’s got to be another way. Do they have a landline? A phone box? Some kind of roadside assistance?” I flung my hands out in despair.

“Rodel.” His long, tapered fingers slid down my arm and tightened around my wrist. He didn’t have to say anything. He was doing it again—bringing me back to the moment. He had an artless way of communicating with his eyes. He could blur everything in the periphery, so all that remained was his calm, commanding presence.

“You do that to the calves when they get skittish.”

“Do what?”

“What you’re doing now.”

“Does it feel good?” His thumb slid back and forth over the pulse in my wrist.

“Like I’m being hypnotized.”

“Good. Now come here.” He pulled me into his arms.

My eyelashes fluttered shut as I rested my cheek against his chest.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled. From all wound up to Zen mode in under ten seconds.

“Are you talking to your sister again?” asked Jack.

“I don’t hear her anymore. She’s stopped talking to me.” My throat ached as I said it. “I think I’ve let her down.”

“Or maybe she’s said everything she needed to say.”

“She never said goodbye.” The swell of pain was beyond tears. “I wish I’d picked up her call.” I had failed Mo. And I had failed at getting whatever closure I thought I would find in Tanzania. And I had royally buggered up my heart in the process.

“Hey,” Jack whispered into my hair. “Come back to me.”

We stood there for a few moments, locked in each other’s arms. A black bird watched us from the thin grass, hopped closer, and then vanished in a dry scatter.

“Jack, I—”

We both froze as his phone rang.

“It’s working. Holy hell, we have a signal! Hello?” he answered. The person on the other end started talking. And continued talking. And talking.

“Bahat—” Jack intervened, but was cut off. “Stop. Bahati. Listen. Listen!” It came out like a lion’s roar.

Pin drop silence from the other end. Even the brown leaves around us seemed to stop rustling.

And then, I heard a tinny voice through the phone.

“I’m not shouting at you, Bahati. You have no idea how glad I am that you called.” Jack paced back and forth as a stream of words came through.

“There’s a spare key in my desk. Top drawer, right-hand side. But that’s not—” Jack shook his head as Bahati rattled on. “Just tell Goma to wait until I get home. There’s someth—” Jack threw his hands up and went silent.

“Are you done?” he asked, when the chatter at the other end stopped. “Yes? Now I talk, you listen. Deal?” He must have got an affirmative because he continued. “Ro and I are stranded in Magesa. The car broke down. No. It’s just us. No kids. I’ll explain when you get here. Yes. I want you to come get us. I know . . .” He held the phone away from his ear as Bahati squeaked at the other end. “I know you don’t. But you won’t be making any stops in Maasai land. You’ll be driving straight through. Who cares about Lonyoki’s vision? You don’t believe in those superstitions, do you? Okay, so now’s your chance to prove it. Prove his prophecy wrong.”

There was more protesting before Jack spoke again. “Look, I’ll make it worth your while. I don’t know. New seats for Suzi? It doesn’t matter. Black leather, red leather, pink fucking zebra. Whatever you want. Yes. Yes! And one more thing. How’s Scholastica?” Jack paused and nodded. “Good. That’s great. Bring her too. We’re close to Wanza. We’ll take her to the orphanage, get her settled in, and sort out my car on the way back. If you leave now, you can make it here by morning. Rodel and I will set up camp tonight. No, not Magesa.” Jack scanned the village. There was a latrine pit at one end, and when the wind blew the door open, a foul stench filled the hot, humid air. “Meet us on the other side of the hill. You’ll see it when you get here. We’ll wait for you there. Right.” He hung up and exhaled.

“Bahati’s coming?”

“He is.” Jack shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe it. “And Scholastica’s feeling better, so he’s bringing her too. We just ha—” His phone rang again.

“Yes?” he answered. Then he laughed. “Really, Bahati? No gas money? That’s the best you can come up with? Put Goma on the line. Oh? You don’t want to get her involved? That’s right. Or she’ll make you drive through Maasai land in her muumuu. I know you don’t want to. Do it for me, okay? No, you still get the seats. The seats stand, plus, I will be forever indebted. Yes? Okay.”