Alex watched the group disperse. "Is there significance to the beadwork they wear? It's very elaborate and beautiful."
"There is much symbolism in it. I will show you. Maria, come here," John said. The woman came immediately but with a dignity and bearing that Alex marvelled at. "The Masai use weights to extend their pierced ear lobes. The decorative loops of flesh are kept open with wood spools or metal earrings. Look at Maria's wooden spools. Do you see that they are similar but not identical?"
Alex looked at the earrings. She wasn't sure what was culturally acceptable and wondered how Maria felt being used as an exhibit. Now that the song was over, Sarah had wandered off to talk to old friends. "Yes, I see. One is carved in a spiral, but the other is consecutive circles."
"That's right. The spiral is female; the consecutive circles are a male symbol. The Masai believe that all things in life are paired, but not identical. The earrings are bound together as a pair, either by a nose strap or simply by the colours in the collar. For a balanced society, pairs must be joined."
Alex nodded. She looked about at the primitive village of dung and saw it for the complex society it really was. She began to realize why colonialism failed so badly and why globalization was doomed
to a similar fate if the business and political worlds were not prepared to understand the complex societies with which they were dealing. "Can you tell me about the colours?"
"There are white and black colours. The white colours are hot, bright, and colourful. They are the 'beautiful ones.' They are the nurturing elements of society—the female elements. The black colours are cold, the dark elements of people. The male elements. Again, there are pairs. Female: white, hot, red. Male: black, cold, blue."
"That's fascinating. Are you back here for the ceremonies that Sarah tells me will be happening soon?"
"Partly. Are you enjoying your stay in the Masai Mara?"
"Yes, very much so. It's an amazing place."
Sarah walked up and joined them.
"I got a message, John," Sarah said.
"From whom?"
"I don't know. It basically warned me to be careful of friends that might use me for their own ends. Do you know anything about it?"
"No. But it seems like good advice. In these times, it is wise to know who your friends are and what they want from you."
"I'm of no significance. I find it hard to believe that I'm earmarked for a role in some sort of dire plot."
"The best way to catch fish is with minnows," John said.
"Is that a warning or a threat?" Sarah asked.
"Just hope it is not a prophecy. These are dangerous times."
Alex bristled over the implied warnings in the exchange between Sarah and John. She would have liked to have taken charge and made it clear to John that he'd better not mess with Sarah. But instead, she gritted her teeth and stayed quiet, but close.
Sarah nodded. "Thank you, John, for your hospitality. We'll thank the women and then be on our way. Alex is anxious to visit the local clinic."
Maria insisted on showing them her simple home, so it was some time before they straightened out of the dark wattle and daub building and blinked in the bright sun. John had disappeared. Two old men sat in the sun, their backs against a hut wall. Their faces were lined and dark, like aged wood. A dog ran past, two children played on the far side of the village, and a group of women sat cross-legged near the gate. In front of them was a selection of crafts.
"It would be politically wise to buy something," Sarah whispered as they made their way towards the gate. First, Alex picked out a collar of beautiful patterns of red, blue, and white. It was Maria, standing near by, who did the negotiating on behalf of the women and took the money from Alex.
Alex placed the collar around Sarah's neck. This caused the women to laugh hysterically. Alex blushed and saw that Sarah had turned crimson, too. "What have I done?"
"I think we just became engaged."
"Good." She examined all of the clubs. Some were beaded as elaborately as the collars. Alex hefted each one and checked its balance, hardness, and weight. She rejected the pretty tourist models and bought instead a plain wooden club with a beautiful grain and perfect weight and balance. Maria nodded in approval. They said their good-byes and went back to the jeep, where George waited.
"Where did Maria learn her English if women aren't allowed to go to school?" Alex asked as she clambered into the jeep after Sarah.
"Her children taught her. Three of her sons chose to go to school."
"She must be very smart. She speaks with beautiful enunciation. It is a shame she never got the chance to go to school."
"She is very powerful for a woman and is proud of her culture and ways, as you saw. If she had gotten an education, she'd be working in one of the tourist camps at a minimal wage. Isn't she better off where she is, in some ways?"
Alex saw the wisdom behind this question. Maria belonged. It might be a basic, hard life, but it was hers. That was far better than being caught between two cultures and never belonging to either.
Chapter 11
They drove on for some time until they came to a small whitewashed building sitting behind a chain link fence. Alex stood up and looked out of the roof at the shabby structure. "Oh, boy," she said with a sigh.
"It's not as bad as it looks. The Masai move about a lot, so permanent facilities didn't work. Now they have these small clinics to handle immediate first aid and a flying doctor service to take serious cases out."
Alex followed Sarah over to the gate. There was fresh blood on the metal.
"Uh-oh, it looks like there's a problem. Watch the blood. You have to be very careful in Africa." Sarah's warning was wasted. Alex was already striding back to the jeep.
"There's fresh blood on the gate," she told George, as she pulled out a pair of latex gloves from the box of medical supplies and slipped them on. George pulled an M16 rifle out from under the seat. Alex carried the box of supplies and George followed.
"George, there isn't a soul for miles!" Sarah protested as she accepted the box that Alex passed to her. Alex opened the gate, and they slipped through. George said nothing, but his sharp eyes watched the windows and doorway of the clinic closely.
A pool of blood marked the doorstep. From inside, they heard the sound of moaning and worried Bantu voices. George slung his rifle. "A Bantu man has been gored by a Cape buffalo." When they went in, they found three young men, their eyes round and white with fear, huddled against one wall. They were all blood-splattered.
Alex walked through to the examination room. "Hi, I'm Doctor Aubin. I'm a surgeon. Can I be of help?" She indicated to Sarah that she should put the box down on a table along the side of the wall. Blood dripped steadily off the old, chipped metal table. Three other occupants were in the room besides the unfortunate victim: a village man and a Masai man and woman dressed in European clothes
under old lab coats. They splashed around in a growing puddle of blood. Their clothes were already saturated.
"Please, Doctor. I can't stop the bleeding," the Masai man said.
Alex put on a clean pair of gloves over the ones she already had on.
"Does he have AIDS?" Sarah asked.
The nurse looked up from where he was applying pressure with a blood-soaked cloth. "I don't know. It is possible."
Alex went to work. She looked around for what might be available in the clinic that she could use. Sarah stood back against the wall and stayed out of the way, watching Alex fight to save the man who'd had his groin ripped open.
"Have you got IV equipment here?" Alex asked the nurse who was trying to slow the flow of blood.
He said that they did.
"Quickly, get an IV started and let it run wide open," Alex ordered, taking the blood-soaked cloth away from him. She spoke to the other nurse. "Get some suturing material and lots of gauze from the box over there, and if you have a sterile haemostat, that would be good."
She took the pulse of the uninjured leg and then compared it to the injured side. She took the packing away from the wound, and a spurt of blood shot up. Alex dabbed away the blood, watching closely. The nurse returned with the requested materials, and Alex grabbed a handful of gauze and put it in place. "Here," she said, "Hold this and apply pressure while I get the needle ready."
As soon as she was ready, she told the woman to remove the gauze, clamped the haemostat in place, and put in a few quick sutures in the damaged artery to slow the bleeding. She released the haemostat from the artery. With more gauze to wipe the area, she checked her work and the extent of the damage. "Looks like the pubis is shattered. It might have been a bone splinter that tore the artery." She packed the wound tightly to control the oozing blood and applied a pressure dressing.
"Vitals?"
"Heart erratic. Blood pressure low and dropping."
Alex looked up at the male nurse who stood by. "You'd better hang a second bag of fluid and run it wide open again." The nurse hurried to carry out Alex's order. Alex looked at her patient. She felt for a pulse in the lower leg. There was a marked increase in the blood pressure, thanks to the suturing. She nodded her approval.
"Come on fella, hang in there!" she urged. Carefully, she and the two nurses worked to strap the unconscious man to a backboard.
George, who was standing in the doorway of the room, heard the sound first. "Helicopter."
"I've patched up a few holes and stabilized the hip as best I can. What's the flight time to the hospital?" Alex asked.
"About eighty minutes."
"You guys finish securing him to the backboard. I'll write up a note for the receiving team." The nurses did as instructed, and Alex washed her gloved hands in disinfectant, then ripped off the gloves and scrubbed her hands again. She walked to the small office at the front of the building, sat down at the desk, and started writing. She didn't look up as the helicopter team walked past, trusting the nurses and squad to get their part of the job done. She and Sarah joined them outside. Alex handed them her notes as they hurried to take off. Alex stood at a safe distance, the wind and dust whipping around her.
"He's not going to make it, is he?" Sarah asked.
Alex felt drained, her heart heavy with worry for the young man. "It's very unlikely. I was able to slow the blood loss, but his body is in deep shock due to the scale of the trauma. He might make it, but it would be a long shot. He's open to infection. That will be the big concern, if he survives the surgery."
"You knew that, but you tried to save him anyway, even though you could have been putting your own health in danger."
"That's my job. AIDS is a reality here. Everywhere." Alex took a step away. "Come on. You'll need to translate."
It was hard to tell the four frightened men that their friend might die, but Alex explained carefully and Sarah translated. The men showed no emotion, as it wouldn't have been manly, but they couldn't hide the sorrow and pain in their eyes.
Sarah sat quietly in the front seat of the Land Rover. Alex had insisted on sitting alone in the back so as not to ruin anyone else's clothes. That's my job, Alex had heard herself say. It was and it wasn't. Medical people didn't have to put their own lives at risk. When Sarah had lived with her, Alex had competed for the high-profile jobs that tested her talents and knowledge. She hadn't been interested in healing, but rather in gaining fame and power. She wondered which Alexandria Aubin Sarah believed existed: the one who wanted to control everything, or the one who had just fought to save a young man's life?
They caused quite a sensation when they arrived back at Governor's Camp with Alex covered in blood. Alex thought the manager was going to have a heart attack with worry until Sarah had a chance to explain that Alex was all right and had just performed some major first aid on a victim of a wild animal attack. Alex said nothing. She brushed past the crowd, ignoring the stares and gasps from the tourists and hastened to their tent to shower and change.
She stood under the showerhead and let the water pour over her. The water was as hot as she could stand it, and the tent was soon steamy. She scrubbed herself down with a disinfectant soap. Life sucked. The man was probably going to die, Sarah was in some sort of danger, and now there was a good chance that Sarah would never want to make love to her for fear of being exposed to whatever illnesses the gored man's blood might have borne. She rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. So intent was she on her dark thoughts that she started when she caught the motion of a figure through the stream.
Sarah peeled off her dusty clothes and stepped into the shower with Alex. "Ouch! That's hot!"
Alex used her body as a shield to keep the direct spray off Sarah. "I made it as hot as I could. I... uh... wanted you to know I was clean."
Sarah's wrapped her arms around Alex and rested her head on her breast. "Silly. I was so proud of you today. You are my old Alex, bold, brave, and confident." She stood on her tiptoes and captured Alex's lips. Strong arms enveloped her, healing hands, caring hands, a lover's hands.
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm so glad you asked to visit me here in Africa."
"So am I, lover," Alex murmured, as she kissed Sarah's face.
"Alex?"
"Mmm?"
"Stop." The single word stabbed into Alex's heart and she pulled back immediately, profoundly hurt. Sarah moved closer and embraced Alex again. "There's no privacy now. Tonight, after dinner when they've turned back our bed, lit the lamps, and dropped the canvas flaps over the window screening, make love to me then. I want you back in my bed and in my life."
Alex pulled Sarah tightly to her. Relief surged through her like a tidal wave, and tears mixed with the shower water. She had won Sarah back. Now, how the hell was she going to wait another five hours to show Sarah just how much she loved her?
An hour later, they sat over drinks, waiting for the dining area to open. "How much dinner do we have to eat?" Alex asked.
Sarah burst out laughing and choked on her drink. "You are so bad!"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "I don't think once every three years is unreasonable."
Sarah smiled softly and squeezed Alex's hand where it lay on the arm rest. "There was no one else?"
Alex straightened the peanut dish on the table. "No."
"Nor me. And Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"It had better be more than once," Sarah said.
The mood was broken by the sound of a familiar voice.
"Hope I'm not interrupting." Sarah looked up to see James Phillips.
"Of course not, James. You seem to be everywhere at once these days. Will you join us for a drink?"
Phillips bounced on his heels nervously and then took a seat. "I've been busy. Tying up some loose ends, you know. It's all over for me now. I'm retiring. So I want to leave things neat and tidy for the new man coming in."
"You're leaving? Since when?"
"I made up my mind and handed in my letter of resignation a month or so ago. Think I'll buy myself a little place down in Cornwall. Lovely country there."
"Well, congratulations then. Let me buy you a drink."
"No thanks. I've had several already, and I promised a few old acquaintances I'd meet them for dinner. I couldn't resist stopping to say good-bye. I saw your name on the list for the balloon flight on Thursday. It's a wonderful experience, that. I've done it several times."
"As soon as I knew Alex was coming to visit, I booked it. It's so popular that if you don't book early, you simply can't get on."
Phillips smiled knowingly. "Yes. Look, you could do me a favour? Margaret is catering the champagne breakfast after the flight. I borrowed her binoculars several weeks ago. You'd be saving me a drive over if you could just take them with you and give them to her when you see her at breakfast. If it's all right with you, I'll leave them at the main desk for you to pick up the morning of your flight."
"Sure, I'd be glad to," Sarah said. She put her glass down and her smile faded. "Listen James, I got this letter. No signature on it, and it was typed. She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Phillips.
Phillips took the folded paper and smoothed it out on his knee, then reached for his glasses that hung from a cord around his neck. He read it twice.
"This is one of the reasons I shall be happy to leave. Lovely ladies like yourselves shouldn't have to put up with this nonsense. I don't see what this could possibly mean. You're not involved in the politics of this area. I suspect it's meant to scare you because they've seen you talking to me and are afraid you might say something that would get them in trouble. The rumour is I work for Intelligence, you know."
"Is there any truth to that rumour?"
"None whatsoever. Old colonials like myself pick up certain urban legends like these to explain why we have stayed on." Sarah detected a touch of bitterness in his voice.
"Why did you stay on, then?" Alex asked bluntly.
"The African disease," Phillips said as he dropped the letter on the table. "And here I could afford to live reasonably well. Didn't think I could back in England, but I came into a little money recently and that's changed my plans. Well, must be off. Give my love to Margaret. And Sarah, I don't think this letter is anything to worry about, but do be careful." The old man reached out and laid an affectionate hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks, James. Best wishes for a long and happy retirement."
"I think that's assured now," James said, and took his leave.
"His tune has changed a lot in a very short time," Alex said.
Sarah watched the retreating figure thoughtfully. "Yes."
"Do you believe him?"
"There's no reason not to." They finished their drinks and went to the dining room.
* * *
Alex was barely in the tent before she started to strip off her clothes. At last, she could be with Sarah again. She wasn't about to waste any more time. Laughter broke out behind her, and she turned to see Sarah flat on her back on the bed, grinning.
"What's so funny?" Alex asked. She stood with her hands on her hips, totally naked except for her briefs.
"You've got zebra-striped undies on," Sarah said.
"Alex looked down at the offending briefs, a flush rising up her neck. "I bought a packet of three in African motifs at the Hudson's Bay Company to get in the mood"
"And are you in the mood?" The tone was low and seductive.
"Oh, yeah."
"Then come here, Tarzan. I need you."
Alex grabbed the beam that ran the length of their tent and swung gracefully back and forth while Sarah looked on with hungry eyes. With a ripple of muscle, Alex dropped in front of the bed and leaned down to kiss the lips that she loved so much.
Sarah scooped Alex's breasts into her hands. Her fingers gently caressed nipples hard with excitement. Alex growled softly and settled her hips between Sarah's legs. Slowly, she stripped Sarah of her clothes until the only thing between them was one pair of zebra-striped panties. Sarah ran her fingers under them, felt Alex's wet, hot need, and tried to pull them off.
"Not yet, Jane," Alex whispered seductively. "Not yet." Her hands roamed over familiar territory changing bittersweet memories into red-hot reality. With a groan, she forced herself to go slow, giving Sarah all the pleasure she needed to reach a deep and powerful climax. Then she entered the woman she loved and, in the claiming, felt fully alive. Their rhythm increased, kisses deepened, and whispers of love were rough with passion. When Sarah came, Alex came right along with her. It felt so right. She was whole again.
Alex held Sarah, feeling the waves of her orgasm echoing through her. Then Sarah rolled over and gave back to her lover all the passion and joy that had been given her. The zebra panties were lost and an old love found again.
Chapter 12
Sarah woke to the sensation of a pleasant soreness between her legs and the lingering scent of sex. She sighed contentedly. She rolled over to pull Alex close, but the other half of the bed was empty. Sarah flopped back on the bed. Just like that infuriating woman to love and leave her. Her dark thoughts were interrupted by the rattle of china.
The flap of their tent was unzipped and a graceful jean-clad leg slipped through. It was followed by a tray brimming over with dishes, and that was followed by the rest of Alex. "Good morning, lover. I thought breakfast in bed would be nice."
Sarah tried to brush her blond hair into order. "I thought you'd loved and left me."
"As if." She leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Sarah's head.
"Mmm, thanks. You pour some of that life-saving coffee while I freshen up. I can't think why, but I didn't sleep a wink last night." Sarah left for the bathroom.
Alex took the opportunity to slip outside once again. When Sarah returned, Alex was standing there with a bunch of flowers in her hand that she had stolen off a table in the dining tent. Beside her, the table was set for breakfast for two. Sarah walked over, took the flowers from Alex's hand, and reached up to kiss her. "You are definitely a keeper."
Alex held the chair for Sarah with dramatic flair. "I hope so."
Sarah wondered if Alex had the same questions she was asking herself. When would she be able to wrap up her research and come back to Canada? Did she want Alex to put out some feelers for jobs in Yellowknife for her before she came? What colour did they want their bedroom painted? Would Alex want her to have her own dog team, or could they share? Did she have enough money for plane tickets? Did she want to get legally married? Sarah said nothing and
tucked into her breakfast. She'd have to make her own decisions, and fortunately, Alex wasn't pushing. She had changed.
"George is going to wonder what happened to us," Sarah said.
"I told him we wanted a morning off. He's promised to take us looking for a leopard this afternoon. If we get a sighting, then I'll have seen the big five: the leopard, elephant, lion, rhino, and Cape buffalo."
"Don't tell me you've come down with a case of the African disease."
"Yeah, I guess I have. At least I can see how Africa could get under your skin and you'd have to keep coming back." She sat in silence for a moment. "Here you feel somehow close to your roots, alive... It's hard to explain."
"Many of us feel that way. I'd stay, but Africa isn't where I belong. There's no real future here for me, and I'm afraid there are more dark times ahead for this marvellous continent. I hope I can come back and visit many times, because I do have the African disease. Still, I'd be foolhardy to believe I could make a life here, especially now. There's great social and political unrest brewing all over this continent. AIDS, poverty, drought and famine, corruption, lack of education and development. The old colonial countries are crumbling under the strain. Africa isn't safe."
Alex felt Sarah's pain. In just a few days, she had come to see a little bit of why one could fall in love with the continent. A change of topic was needed. "I got up early and phoned through to the hospital in Nairobi. Our patient came through the surgery okay. He's in critical but stable condition. Infection will be a big concern, but he does have a chance."
"I'm glad. Now, tell me a bit about your life. A girl wants to know what she might be getting into, you know."
Alex launched into a rather disjointed description of her life in the north of Canada. It was heavy on factual content and rather light on description, but Sarah read between the lines and realized that Alex had found a place where she belonged.
Sarah found herself getting excited about the opportunities and challenges of a life in the north. There was certainly potential for anthropological research if she could find a job up there. She would need to look into possible research grants and send off some resumes and see what developed. This decision to look into the possibilities of a job in Yellowknife cheered her. For some months now, she had been harbouring a growing depression. She knew her
work in Kenya was almost over, and yet, she had no clear options for the future. Late at night, when she was vulnerable to such thoughts, she would realize that her chance at happiness with her soul mate had failed, her research was nearly complete, and she was too different a person to go home.
Now, here was Alex, offering her a chance to reclaim the happiness of their early days together and promising her a life that was full of happiness and challenge. Did she dare risk it? Did she want it for the right reasons, or just for the security of knowing what lay ahead for her?
"What are you thinking?'
Sarah hadn't realized she'd fallen silent. "I was thinking that if we did live together, we'd need a cat, too, to keep all those dogs in line."
Alex came around the table and scooped Sarah into her arms. "I'll do my best to make you never regret giving me a second chance. With you as my partner supporting me, I know I can do that." Alex carried Sarah to bed. It was late in the morning when they stood under the shower together, washing off their lovemaking with fragrant body soap and kisses.
After lunch, they met George by the jeep. This time they headed towards the rocky up-crops to the southwest of the park. The going was rough, and they bounced along slowly. Every once in a while, George would stop the jeep and look around, checking the nooks and crannies for telltale signs of activity. "The leopard is very shy and blends so well into the terrain that they are very hard to see," he said.
Their afternoon was not wasted while they searched. They saw warthogs running with their tails straight in the air. "It helps them find each other in the tall grass," Sarah explained. There were also kudu grazing, hyenas lounging around their dens, savannah baboons picking up seeds in a swampy meadow, and little furry rock hyrax scampering about on the rocks.
It was in the late afternoon that George pointed to vultures circling in the sky over a high ridge of rock. "The leopard has made a kill out on the plains and has brought it home to eat." Carefully, George manoeuvred their jeep up the rocky slope to the west and they bumped along the top of the ridge to a small copse of old trees.
George stopped and pointed. Ahead of them on a twisted tree, they saw the dead body of a common duiker, a small deer-like creature, draped over a long, horizontal branch. "The leopard is a
nocturnal animal and very sly and sneaky. They will hunt cows, goats, and even village dogs if food is short, and will stay in a developed area long after the lions and herd animals have moved on," George said in a whisper.
There was a rustle in the branches, and out stepped the leopard into plain view. It slunk confidently along the branch, dug its claws into the wood, and stretched. Then it settled down in the shade on a branch just above where its kill hung. Its coat was a rich mixture of gold, tan, and beige, with an elaborate pattern of rust and black spots. Lying on its belly with its paws draped over each side of the branch, it looked for all the world like a child's stuffed toy. But when its head turned and cold, gold-flecked eyes stared straight into Alex's lens, she shivered. For all its beauty, this animal was a lethal killer.
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