ground--he was stuck between political nightmare scenarios and this mention of a guy who would likely be her boyfriend. Time to guide the conversation to less dangerous ground. Keep everybody happy. “What kind of animal is this guy researching?”
“She. She’s tracking hyenas in Luangwa. Dr. Sally Pierce.”
“I’ve heard of her,” Mr. Nelson said. “We’ve driven to a couple of tourist caravan camps there. Your lodge with its lovely dining room is fancier than we are used to.”
“Another soda or beer, anyone?” Brett had been sure the wildlife expert was her boyfriend.
“Through this lens, this is your world, isn’t it?” Elise asked, offering him the camera in exchange for a beer.
“Look,” the little boy said, right into their ears.
One lioness rolled onto her belly, swiveling her gaze from the boat to the herd. Her eyes were wide open now. The impala jerked their heads up, almost as one. One male bucked and leaped six feet straight up. Like an uncoiled spring, the whole herd bounded over the bluff on their lithe slender legs, their little black boot markings like ribbons fluttering in a breeze. The Nelson boy cheered, but then asked, “Now what will the lions eat for dinner?”
The second lioness stood and padded down to the water’s edge. Every motion of her muscles was fluid and powerful as she crouched to drink. The boat had drifted much closer to shore; Brett focused and manually squeezed the shutter. Through his viewfinder, the lioness’s yellow eyes stared.
“Magnificent,” Mrs. Nelson murmured.
Mr. Nelson shifted, tucking the little boy between them. “Will she swim out again?”
“Lions pounce at their prey, but she won’t because she can’t see us separate from the boat,” Brett said. “She smells the oil and gas, not us.”
Elise seemed hypnotized by the lioness. “Her eyes are pure carnivore.”
The sunset cast sharp shadows of the cat across the soil to the grasses. Given the angle of the boat’s drift, the Nelsons, in the second seat, were stuck behind him. Tommy’s head hung over Elise’s shoulder. She reached for Tommy’s hands and helped him step forward into her lap and she slid her hip close to Brett. She whispered, “Now your mummy and daddy will have a better view and you will have a terrific view.”
Brett felt Elise’s thigh pressing his. Her perfume, that green juniper scent, mixed with a nice touch of sweat. Tucked in her arms, the little boy sat motionless while the lioness padded along the beach, her sister following. The Nelsons oohed, stretched around them, saying this was the best game viewing they’d ever had. The lioness shadows lengthened and darkened as the two padded down the lakefront.
“I’m sorry to break this off, but driving across the lake in the dark is risky.” Brett scanned their faces, expecting the little boy to whine.
The little boy smiled wide, dimples popping up in his skinny face. “This has been an adventure!”
Brett grinned at the kid. The sun had sunk more than half below the horizon. As Brett raced back to the lodge’s dock, he mulled over the kid’s reaction--once the politics was dropped, it had been great. Few game drives ever ended so perfect--except they’d be late for the dinner hour which would make David furious.
They crossed the lake, their speed rippling the shining orange surface. David waited on the dock.
“Are you folks all right?” David asked. He frowned at Brett as he caught the tie rope and lashed the boat to its mooring. “It’s getting mighty dark.”
“It’s only the start of sunset, David.” Brett steadied the gunwale and offered a hand to Mrs. Nelson.
“Hello, Mr. Colton.” Mrs. Nelson landed lightly on the dock. “We had the most wonderful ride. The lionesses were fascinating.”
David cut in front, offering a hand to Elise, which left Brett to get the kid. “What happened? Did Brett run the boat aground?”
“He handled the boat like a Maine fisherman,” Mr. Nelson said as he stepped out. “You have a terrific guide in Brett, Mr. Colton.”
Brett smiled at Tommy as he set him down--nice to hear praise for a change, but David wasn’t listening to the Nelsons.
“This way, folks. You’ll have to hurry to change for dinner,” David said, tucking Elise’s hand through his elbow. “Let me escort you. The stairs get dark at twilight.”
Brett stared after him. David didn’t even offer to help secure the boat. Where was Isaac? Now he had to wrestle the cover on the boat. The Nelsons’ comments saved him from another reprimand, but David got Elise. Damn.
* * *
The village of Hwange was only three kilometers from the lodge. Again they drove in silence. Brett felt too grouchy to talk and Isaac was probably too achy. No point telling Isaac about Elise’s request. At the end of dinner over guava sorbet, she’d asked him to have a drink with her and show her constellations. Damn. Here he was delivering Isaac instead. Brett parked in front of Mrs. Hilda’s. A tethered goat nibbled her scratchy brush grass short. Mrs. Hilda swept the front steps with a dried twig broom.
“Manheru, shamwari,” The Shona tones soft in her welcome.
“Good evening and best wishes to you, Mrs. Hilda,” Isaac continued in Shona as he climbed the stairs first and shook her hand in both of his.
The warmth of old fashioned words and ways, like the heat of the day exuding from the stucco wall, was comforting. Mrs. Hilda touched Isaac’s shoulder in traditional greeting. Isaac flinched and murmured, “So sorry.” She took his chin in her hand and tsk-ed at the puffy eye.
Brett, bowing, offered her a packet of tea and the two beers. The goofy stuffed elephant he’d found in the Lost and Found bin wedged under his arm. She laughed with open hands to accept the gifts.
“Welcome, Mr. Brett. Thank you for your kindnesses. Come in and let me brew some of this tea.” She invited them inside and called into the bedroom. “Astrida, bring my grandson.”
Under the single bulb hanging overhead in her front parlor, the orange cushions on the woven bamboo chairs gleamed against the white-washed walls. Astrida’s framed Nursing School certificate was centered over the dining table. Pots of herbs and seedlings crowded the front window.
“Titambire, Mr Isaac, Mr. Brett.” Astrida walked in with her baby boy on her hip.
“Mai -Trida!” Brett laughed at his schoolmate, adding the title of respect for a mother. He bowed to his waist, one arm across his front and the other tucked behind his back. Hell, he could tease her; she’d never dated him. The baby giggled and squirmed. Astrida set him down and he waddled toward Isaac, his baby arms reaching to be picked up.
Brett wondered how Isaac felt as he started to lift this child, which could have easily been his own. Isaac started, but then shuddered and plopped the boy down. The baby howled. Brett danced the stuffed toy half in his screaming face. “What’s the little guy’s name?”
“Seth.” Astrida hovered near the wobbling baby. She turned to Isaac. “What is wrong with your eye?”
“Seth--Sethie,”
