Читать книгу Every Serengeti Sunrise - Rula Sinara - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

MADDIE SET HER hair clip next to her keepsake box and gave her scalp a quick rub. The wooden box carved with elephants had been a gift from her uncle Jack and auntie Anna. Hope had delivered it to Maddie when she’d visited College Town, Pennsylvania, for the first time, back when Maddie was ten. She pushed her hair over her shoulders and ran her fingertips along the carvings and the lid’s seam. She wouldn’t open it. Not right now, at least.

“Why isn’t this cute guy on your bed in Philly?” Pippa plopped onto Maddie’s bed and picked up the plush monkey—a lemur, to be specific—that had been her favorite doll when she was a kid. It had been a gift Pippa had given her shortly after they’d first met. Most kids under the age of five wouldn’t have given up a new toy, but Pippa wasn’t like most, not then and not now, and the moment she’d given Maddie that monkey, their friendship had been sealed.

“I can’t take everything back with me.” You could if you wanted to. She turned away from her dresser and collapsed onto the bed next to Pippa. “My place is small and every time I visit and pack to go back, I run out of room in my suitcase.”

“You could mail yourself a box, you know.” Pippa made the monkey’s head nod and Maddie let a small laugh escape. What was it about hanging out with her that made Maddie feel like a kid again? Like she didn’t always have to be serious or prove herself. There had been a point in her childhood, after her mother died, when she’d become painfully serious, but once Hope had entered their lives, Maddie had changed and promised herself she’d never go back to feeling that way again. What had happened? Growing up? She snatched the little lemur from Pippa.

“You want me to stick this poor guy in a box? You’re so mean.”

“I know. I’m terrible. Besides, I kind of like that you haven’t totally vacated the place. It made it a lot more comfortable when I stayed here during university, for one thing. And it always felt reassuring. I could count on you coming back to visit. Not necessarily because you missed your family and friends, but because of this guy, of course.” Pippa smirked at her. It had been a while since she’d seen her, but Maddie hadn’t realized it actually bothered Pippa.

She reached over and twirled one of Pippa’s corkscrew locks around her finger and gave it a tug.

“You know I miss all of you and would come here more if I had time.”

Her stomach pinched. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did miss everyone, but staying away was less stressful. Even the pressure of proving herself to her boss wasn’t as bad as trying to live up to her dad’s expectations in real time.

“I know you’re busy. Being a lawyer must keep you weighed down with things. I personally couldn’t imagine having to work in an office all day. I think I’d lose my mind. You used to love the open spaces, too. Oh, the begging to get your dad to let you spend the weekend at Busara, over and over and over.”

Maddie took a deep breath as she studied the fine crack that was making its way across her bedroom ceiling. How long had it been there? Did her parents know? Did it matter?

“Hey, you.” Pippa sat up, so Maddie followed suit. “I can leave if you need to sleep.”

“No, why? I’m good.”

“You were daydreaming. I asked you if you ever adopted a cat. You said last time that you’d think about it. If the answer’s no, then whoever this guy is who’s allergic to them better be worth it.”

“Gosh. No. To both. No boyfriend, and I don’t have any pets except for a Betta fish. He’s blue this time. My neighbor’s kid is watching him for me, since I’m here so long.”

She had kept a fish in a small tank ever since the first fish her well-intentioned dad had gotten her as a kid. She’d always loved animals and wanted a pet. In a moment of parental weakness—not a term that came to mind often with her dad—he’d succumbed to the idea. Rather, he’d decided to use bribery to get her to go to a therapy session. She’d expected a kitten or a puppy. He bought a fish. Not a big tank or a school of fish. Nope. A single, red Betta. Named Ben the Betta, after her dad. Funny how, though she’d been a bit disappointed with that first fish, she got hooked on him. When Ben the Betta died, she’d gotten another, then another after that. Each with a name beginning with the letter B. And when she left Barracuda with her brothers in Kenya and returned to Pennsylvania for college, she found herself at the shop buying another red one. She’d named this one Bilbo, and had decorated his bowl like a hobbit hole. It was sort of comforting having him around; plus, she liked feeding him.

“How do you do it? I mean, it just sounds so lonely over there. I have to admit, when you emailed and said you were coming, I thought something exciting was up. Like you were getting engaged and needed to plan a wedding and—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Pippa.” She’d have to meet a decent guy for that to happen. The few she’d even looked twice at over the years were either the kind of guys who commanded respect but were also narcissistic jerks who didn’t get her, or they were nice, decent guys...the kind that her father and brothers could flatten with one look. Not that that should matter, but there always seemed to be something lacking.

“I’m just so used to having everyone around—especially Haki, who, by the way, says hello.”

Maddie smiled and hopped off the bed.

“How is he? Or should I ask how the two of you are?” Maddie peered out her window to the garden below. She watched as Delila lifted the hem of her vibrant wrap skirt, crossed the cool grass in her bare feet and began plucking figs from a tree overhanging a couple of wicker chairs. Maddie sat back down on the edge of the bed, took off her socks and wiggled her toes. Man, that felt good. Freeing.

“Haki is the same guy you last saw. Never changes.” Pippa chuckled. “He was such a little man as a kid, he didn’t have much to change. And I think we’re getting closer. You know what I mean?”

No, she really didn’t know. Or understand. The last time she’d seen Haki, she thought he’d changed a lot. Or maybe it seemed that way because she didn’t see him all the time. Then again, Pippa knew him better.

“You think you’re getting closer? Nothing official yet?” Maddie threw her socks in a woven-grass hamper and rummaged in the bottom drawer of her dresser for a pair of loose-fitting khakis. She stripped down to her bra and underwear and added her gray dress slacks and thin sweater to the laundry, then put on the khakis and a green T-shirt. She really needed to wear these on the flight home. So much more comfortable. Her dress slacks were the most casual thing in her closet back in Philly that were decent enough to leave her apartment in. She just didn’t have much occasion to wear anything between business attire and pajamas.

“Like I said, when it comes to change, he tends to walk on eggs. Slow and cautious. I suppose there’s a comfort in the status quo, but sooner or later, he’ll get the nerve to make it official. I mean, it’s no secret we’re together and I seriously think our parents are wondering what he’s waiting for.”

“Hmm. Maybe since you both have practically lived together all your lives, he already feels like he’s married.” She opened the bottle of water on her dresser and took a swig.

“It’s not like he’s already milked the goat or anything,” Pippa said. Maddie’s water went down the wrong way, but she waved Pippa off when she jumped up at all the coughing.

“Pip, what I meant was that maybe he feels comfortable. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells. You know how he’s all about safety and being in control. He’s also a family kind of guy. Marriage to him probably means kids, and perhaps he’s not ready for that. Or maybe he wants things to be perfect down to the last detail. You know, X amount of dollars in the bank, a life plan...predictable weather. Who knows.”

“How much planning does he need? We have a place to live. He has a career and a job.”

“If I were Haki, I wouldn’t want to live at Busara with both families if I got married. Too many people. It’s a rescue center, not a compound. So he’d need to be able to afford a place of his own. Maybe he’s saving up and wants to surprise you.”

Pippa frowned and picked at her cuticle.

“I guess, but it doesn’t make sense to leave since he works there. We could just put up our own small house, possibly where the old tents used to be. Why have a commute when you don’t have to? He already drives enough.”

“Maybe you’re right. Just give him time,” Maddie said.

Pippa hopped off the bed and gave her a hug.

“It’ll happen sooner than later, I’m sure, and when it does, you have to swear that even if you have the biggest case on your hands, you’ll be here for the wedding. Promise?”

“Of course.”

She meant it. She did. Pippa was like a little sister. Her happiness meant everything to Maddie. She took another sip of water and hoped it would wash away the bittersweet feeling that clung to her chest like morning dew on the branches of a weeping willow. She took a second sip to drown her guilt and to bury her secret as deep as the ocean she’d crossed to get here.

“Pippa, I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

* * *

THE SKY BEYOND the valley was deep scarlet this time. Yesterday, it had been streaked with bands of carnelian and amethyst. It was never the same. Each evening promised an unexpected blend of colors. Every sunset promised change. It was Haki’s favorite time of day.

“Checkmate.” Kamau leaned back in the rocker on the front porch of the Busara house and linked his hands behind his head. “You’re losing your touch.”

Haki scrutinized the board and retraced their last few moves. He really was losing his touch. His father hadn’t beaten him in at least six months.

“I don’t see it. What happened?”

“Your knight. Three moves ago,” Kamau said, indicating how he’d created a weakness.

Haki had made one wrong choice and left himself vulnerable. He held his head in his hands for a moment, then scrubbed at the stubble on his jaw and sat back in defeat.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He picked up the wooden box that housed the chess-and-checkers set that Kamau had given him as a gift when he was only six, right after Haki found out that Kamau was going to marry his mother and become the father he never had. Kamau had taught him to play checkers even before that, but back then they used to sit on overturned buckets outside the tent that had served as the camp’s kitchen and dining area. And Kamau used to let him win. He began putting away the pieces.

“Your mind wasn’t here. I could tell I had a chance halfway through the game. Anything I can help with?”

Haki shook his head. “Just tired. Long day.”

The camp had quieted; even the baby elephants were sound asleep in their pens with their keepers, but the ebb and flow of insects crying out for their mates rippled through the air like waves licking at the parched, hot sand. Nightfall masked the harsh effects of the drought. It masked a lot of things. But Haki’s father had a way of seeing through veils, even in the dark.

“Perhaps you should have taken the day off and flown with them to Nairobi.”

“No need,” Haki said quickly. He closed the wooden case.

“I said nothing about need.”

Haki smiled and stood.

“Are you going to try to checkmate me all evening? Don’t let one win go to your head.”

Kamau laughed and pushed back his chair.

“All right. Deflect, but you know I’m here if you need to talk, or gain insight into the minds of women...or for tips on how to win at chess,” he added with a chuckle.

“Hey,” Haki said, shaking his finger at him. “Tomorrow will be the start of my next winning streak. You’ve been warned.”

Kamau left the screen door creaking to a close behind him and Haki caught a glimpse of his younger brother, Huru, sketching in the family room. At fifteen, an age when most kids wallowed in hormones and angst, Huru was as mellow as they came. Maybe he channeled it all into his artwork—there was no doubt he had a gift—but sometimes Haki had to wonder if names carried enough power to define a person, or if it was the emotional state of the mother at the time of naming and rearing the child that made all the difference. Huru had always had a carefree way about him. Free, just as his name meant in Swahili, or perhaps how their mother felt at his birth: married, happy and loved, unlike how she’d been when Haki was conceived in an act of violence. Haki meant justice. And there had never been a time when he didn’t find himself wanting it. Wanting those who caused pain and harm to be held accountable, wanting to be sure he’d always be the kind of honorable man Kamau was...and not like the criminal whose blood he shared.

* * *

MADDIE CLOSED HER room door gently and tiptoed downstairs. Everyone but Simba and Chuki, who lived nearby, had opted to stay the night, rather than fly out of Nairobi in the dark. Her uncles had crashed in Chad’s empty room and Pippa was hogging most of her bed. Not that it mattered, given that Maddie couldn’t sleep. It was almost midnight, but for her it felt like midafternoon.

She turned on the kitchen light and squinted until her eyes adjusted. Maybe some chamomile tea would help her get sleepy. What she really needed was to force herself not to nap during the day. The one she’d taken on the way home from the airport had given her a second wind.

She set her laptop on the kitchen butcher block and went to put a kettle of water on the gas stove. If sleep wasn’t happening then work was. She needed to be prepared for tomorrow. The last thing she wanted was for the lawyers overseeing the case to call up Levy and ask him why he’d sent them someone clueless. She pulled up a stool and flipped open her computer.

“A bit late for work.”

She startled but immediately relaxed when her dad put his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She closed her eyes briefly and took it in. Moments like this, his love felt unconditional. Earlier, he’d wrapped her in a bear hug that she never wanted to leave. There was no mistaking he loved her. But that only made it more hurtful when he was critical. She closed her laptop. Maybe just tonight, this first night, she could avoid a serious conversation with him.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “But you should be. I hope I didn’t make too much noise.”

“Nah.” He padded over to the fridge and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He held it up for her to see, then unwrapped it. “I tell you, I’m spoiled. Made and waiting for me.”

“A sandwich at this hour?”

“Peanut butter and honey. My go-to late-night snack. You want one? It’ll help you sleep. I can’t sleep if I’m hungry.”

“No, thanks. I ate so much at dinner. Hunger isn’t my problem.”

As much as he’d eaten, she couldn’t imagine why he’d be hungry, but then again, his work was quite physical.

“You look great, Mads.” He took a bite. “Tired, but great. They treating you well at that firm? Good health-care coverage? They’re not bumming off their worst cases on you, are they?”

So much for the warm fuzzies.

“I’m happy there, Dad, and yes, I’m covered. I did read the fine print when I signed on with them. It’s a habit they teach in law school.” The kettle began whistling and she hurried to turn off the stove so it wouldn’t wake anyone.

“I don’t doubt it. Good habit, too. So is carrying pepper spray, or better yet, not leaving work alone after dark.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-six. I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry.”

“You work in Philadelphia. Big cities have crime problems. Predators lurk in parking lots after dark. If you leave the building every night at the same time, they’ll catch on to your pattern.”

“I know. You went over every safety tactic when I left for college, and I haven’t forgotten the self-defense moves you taught me, either. Luckily, I haven’t had to use them. Do you want a mug of tea with that?” she asked as she poured water on some loose chamomile, dried from the garden.

“No, I’ll grab some milk in a sec.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks. Did you hear that Chad got promoted? Lance corporal.”

“Mom didn’t mention that. Just that he was okay.”

“Yep. He’s okay. More than okay. He’s working his way up.”

“That’s good.” Chad had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. No doubt he’d command a unit someday. Obviously, their dad was proud.

“Ryan and Philip are both at the top of their classes, too. Smart boys.”

“It’s so good to see them. I can’t get over how tall they are.”

“So what’s this case you’re here for? If I have any contacts who can help, let me know.”

He had to ask. She set a glass of milk next to him, then cradled her mug of tea as she sat down. Might as well put it out there and deal with the backlash.

“I’ll be stopping by our sister office tomorrow to meet with the barristers, but I’ll also need to spend time in some of the villages. I’m thinking of staying at Busara or Camp Jamba Walker and taking day trips to talk to the village elders and leaders. I’ll be looking into the hardships some of the farmers are experiencing and getting testimony in their defense.”

“Defense of what?” Ben took his last bite of sandwich and brushed the crumbs off his hands.

“A proposal was submitted that calls for harsher punishments against Masai farmers who kill elephants. We intend to have it thrown out.”

His brow furrowed and he cocked his head.

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that they’re already enduring hardship and the fines proposed are beyond anything they could afford. The prison terms would prevent families from being able to keep up with their farms or generate income to feed their children and survive.”

“What are you doing, Mads?” He got up, shaking his head, and dumped the last sip of his milk in the sink. “Of all cases, why would you take this on?”

“What do you mean? Why would I fight for human rights? That seems like a no-brainer to me.”

“What about animal rights? You know what goes on out there. Half of your family works to fight poaching. You lived here. You know this. That proposal is needed to discourage native tribes from aiding and abetting. Busara is about elephant rescue. You plan to stay there and expect them to take you around so you can fight this?”

“This isn’t about poachers. We’re not trying to encourage elephant killing. You know I wouldn’t do that. This is about protecting the only land the tribes have left. It’s about protecting their livelihood.”

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed the back of his neck. This was going about as well as she’d expected. Every ounce of confidence she’d been mustering up for tomorrow sank to her feet. Why did conversations with him always leave her feeling confused and plain bad? She put down her steaming mug and gathered her laptop. Even if she didn’t sleep, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling would be better than arguing.

“Maddie, you need to tell them you can’t work on this case.”

“I can’t do that and you don’t get to make that call. My future depends on me helping to win this. This is what I do.”

“What about conflict of interest?”

“I don’t understand. There’s no conflict of interest, especially not if we win.” The only conflict is between the two of us right now.

“Maddie. I’ve personally seen that proposal, and I support it. It was submitted by a wildlife advocacy group and has the backing of Busara and other rescue groups around the national parks. I have no doubt it’ll get passed.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Haki helped put it together. He, of all men, won’t stand by and watch you tear it apart.”