Every Serengeti Sunrise

CHAPTER THREE

IF THERE WAS ever a prime example of man versus nature, the disaster Haki was witnessing was an arrow in the bull’s-eye. Good thing there was no bull in sight—this time. Haki trekked through trampled earth and mutilated scraps of what had been rows of sorghum. Understanding Swahili and a few of the tribal dialects was an asset to his work, but all he could do right now was nod his head and let the Masai farmer continue to vent. He’d slip in peace talks at the right time. He was just relieved that the elephant bull hadn’t been caught “red-handed.”

He assumed it was a bull because one such bull had been reported missing that morning from a conservation area dedicated to transitioning teenage elephants into the wild. It was the same group that took on the orphans rescued at Busara once they were too old to stay there. KWS had been trying to locate that missing bull all day. Haki was hoping the elephant would be found alive.

Just a few weeks ago, another farm had suffered a raid by a hungry elephant in search of food. The farmer had killed it in retaliation. Had KWS not found the body in time, the farmer might have even tried selling the tusks to make up for income lost from crop destruction. And that would have fed into the illegal ivory market, which would in turn have encouraged more poaching, and the vicious cycle would go on. Late-summer droughts made everyone and everything, including vegetation and wildlife, desperate. And desperation had a way of pushing a person’s moral boundaries.

Crops could be replanted. Fences could be mended. But driving a species to extinction—eradicating it because of either anger or greed—was an irreversible, unconscionable act.

Haki understood the plight of farmers in the region. He understood that they had children to feed. But killing was not the answer. If the tiny oxpecker bird could ride the back of a massive rhino in peace—trading the benefit of a bodyguard and free meal for keeping the beast’s hide free of insects—then surely humans could figure out a way to live symbiotically with other species.

A group of women swathed in a geometrical-patterned fabric of oranges and reds, with equally colorful beads adorning their necks, stood watching expectantly. One held tight to a toddler. That had to be the farmer’s young child. The one he said had been playing near their garden when the elephant came stomping through.

Haki wiped the sweat off his forehead with one khaki sleeve, then turned to two of his crew near their medical unit. They’d come out to assist, in case an injured animal was found, after a bush pilot spotted the damaged field and reported possible trouble in the area. Haki’s team had been nearby and the KWS vet assigned to this area was on another emergency call. Luckily, the only casualties here were the crops—not that that didn’t have an impact on the farmer.

“Let’s help him repair his fence before we leave,” Haki said. The fence wouldn’t hold up if the elephant returned for another meal. Even the electric fences used to block off large areas of land reserved for farming weren’t always enough to keep elephants from roaming in from the forests and reserves. But it was all he could do to temper the situation for now.

“We’ve been called out. Another aerial tip. A young elephant stuck in a mud pit. I have the coordinates. KWS still has their area vet unit working with a bull they had to dart. Infected hip wound. No time to build fences,” his medical unit driver called out.

Mud pit. That was one of the repercussions of drought. Haki braced his hands on his belt and stared at his worn and weathered boots. No time. Ironic, given that the savannah was all about time...the cycle of life from dawn until dusk. Yet they were constantly running out of it in an attempt to save lives here, to stop the unique beauty of this place from disappearing.

“Okay. Let’s go,” he said, signaling the medical team to get a move on. He called over to Lempiris, the farmer, and his older sons, who were beginning to clean up their planting rows.

“I’ll try to return to help you with the fence,” he said, in Maa. He would try, on his own time. Good fences make good neighbors. Wasn’t that the expression? Unfortunately, it didn’t translate into elephant.

Lempiris squatted down and scooped up a handful of soil near his sandaled feet without looking up. He probably didn’t believe a man like Haki would care enough to return. Haki was the enemy. The one who only cared about the elephants. And Haki couldn’t blame him, because in all honesty, if this man had killed his intruder, his family would be watching KWS arresting him at this very moment. Haki would have made sure of it.

* * *

MADDIE HOISTED THE strap of her laptop case higher on her shoulder and picked up her pace when she spotted her mom and brothers through the airport crowds. She waved until they saw her and waved back.

The twenty-hour flight, including a stopover in Zurich, had exhausted her, but seeing their faces gave her a second wind. At seventeen, Ryan towered over their mom and even Philip was an inch or so taller than the last time she’d seen him. And at fourteen, he still had some growing to do. Hope was a beautiful sight with her bright smile and kind eyes. She wore the orange, floral-print scarf that Maddie had sent her for her birthday, and dangling coral earrings to match. Hope wasn’t blood-related, but she was their mother to the core, just as Philip was their brother. Blood had nothing to do with how much they loved each other or how family was defined.

“Mom, guys! It’s so good to see you.” Maddie collapsed into Hope’s arms first. She clung on a few seconds longer and let herself feel welcome.

“Mmm, you smell so good,” Maddie said. Hope hadn’t changed her perfume for as long as she could remember and there was something so comforting about a mother’s scent. Maddie and her brothers used to love it when Hope dabbed her perfume on their pillows at night if they were afraid of bad dreams. Somehow, it had helped lull them to sleep, a reminder that they were safe and being watched over.

“Maybe you’re smelling mandazi. I asked Delila to make them as a special dessert tonight.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just using me as an excuse, Mom?” The donuts had been her mother’s favorite treat since she was little. Delila, their housekeeper, had told Maddie so. She’d been the family housekeeper since Hope was a baby, born with a heart defect. Hope’s parents—both doctors with demanding schedules—needed help at the time. They’d also hired Delila’s husband, Jamal, as the family driver. The two had been part of the family every since. After Hope married Ben and the entire family moved to Kenya, Hope’s parents had insisted that it was time for Delila and Jamal to help the next generation. They began splitting their time between the two homes and were loved dearly by everyone.

“She made us come along out of fear that we’d eat them all before you guys got home,” Philip said.

“You mean you didn’t come because you missed me?” Maddie gave him a big hug and then reached up to hug Ryan.

“What have you been eating? I’m supposed to be your big sister.”

Ryan grinned and patted the top of her head.

“Karma, for all the times you bossed me around.”

“Right.” Maddie chuckled. “I only have one suitcase and I’m ready to get out of here. I’ve had enough of airports. I was barely able to sleep on the flight over. Here, Mr. Karma. How about carrying the heavier one?”

He easily lifted the bag she’d broken her back carrying and then grabbed the second one Philip was reaching for.

“Hey! I was taking that one,” Philip said. “You’re such a show-off.”

“These, heavy? They feel empty,” Ryan told Maddie, ignoring Philip’s complaint.

“Here, Philip. Can you take this for me? My shoulder is aching.”

She slipped her laptop case off of her shoulder and held it out. She could have handled carrying it, but having your ego bruised at his age wasn’t fun. Philip took the bag from her and followed Ryan through the crowd.

“Let’s go before those boys challenge each other to a duel,” Hope said. “Jamal is waiting with the car.”

“How’s Chad?” Maddie asked as she and Hope followed the boys out.

“We heard from him last week. He’s okay. Sounded tired, but okay.” Hope put her arm around Maddie as they walked. “I worry. They have him in Afghanistan right now. I know your father is proud that his oldest son followed in his footsteps and joined the marines, but he worries, too. I’m more willing to say so out loud.”

“When will he get to visit?”

“Not for months. And soon, Ryan will be off to college and I’ll only have Philip around.”

“But you’re busy seeing patients. You won’t feel the empty nest.”

“A mother always feels it when her nest is empty. I feel your absence, too, my dear.” She gave Maddie a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here. Your father will be home by the time we get there. He was called out for work.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Good. He’s excited that you’ll be here awhile.”

A subtle pang of guilt made her stomach twinge. Here she was, nervous about staying in her parents’ house for so long, while her dad was excited about it. She smiled rather than lying in agreement. Maddie hated lying.

“I expect I’ll be pretty busy this trip. I’m supposed to stop by the law office tomorrow. I have the address. If Jamal is busy, I can always call a taxi.”

“Nonsense. Jamal already plans to help you out as needed. I’d rather you not drive here. It has been too long since you last did.”

Hope had never liked driving in Nairobi. It was nothing like driving in America and she’d always had Jamal take them to school or anywhere else they needed to go. Which wasn’t to say that Maddie hadn’t done it. Once, at sixteen, she’d taken the family car without permission. It hadn’t ended well and Jamal had taken the blame for the fender bender, not wanting her to get in trouble. He’d also told her parents that he’d forgotten the time and had, thus, picked up her brothers from school late, when in fact, he’d found the car missing. Halfway through that night, Maddie had woken her parents up and confessed. The guilt alone had been keeping her awake. Truth and justice. Probably why she’d ended up in law.

Jamal stood waiting by the same old black sedan he’d been driving for years. His salt-and-pepper hair was more salt than the last time she’d seen him, but he looked as tall, dark and handsome as ever. He and Delila were like having extra grandparents around. His face creased with a wide grin.

“Maddie. You’ve brightened the skies over Kenya already.”

Maddie gave him a big hug, then stood back as the guys loaded her bags into the car.

“I missed you, Jamal. How’s Delila?”

“She can’t wait to see you, but you’d think there were ten of you coming. She’s cooking for an army. From the looks of you, you could use some home-cooked meals.”

“Well, you know. I figure why bother eating if Delila hasn’t cooked it,” Maddie teased.

“I thought all that food was because we’re having company,” Philip said.

Ryan elbowed him and Hope scrunched her face.

“That was supposed to be a surprise,” Ryan said.

“No one told me it—”

“It’s all right, Philip. I forgot to remind you,” Hope said.

“He forgets everything. No wonder you’re not allowed to get a pet. Mom and Dad would have to remind you to feed it,” Ryan said.

“That’s not true.” Philip scowled at his brother as they climbed into the car.

“Remember what happened to Mad’s fish when she left for college?”

So that was how Barracuda died? Philip’s face turned red.

“That was years ago. I was like...five...and you were supposed to help feed it.”

“Boys,” Hope warned. This was going to be a long ride.

“Who’s coming over?” Maddie asked, trying to help break up the argument. Her first thought was Simba and Chuki. Her uncle Simba was Hope’s brother. His actual name was Dr. David Alwanga, but Hope had always called him Simba, so when Maddie and her brothers moved to Kenya, they’d insisted on calling him Uncle Simba, too. It was so much more fun. “Dr. Alwanga” was a well-known scientist at the university and a good friend and colleague of Maddie’s maternal uncle Jack, Pippa’s father. Chuki, Hope’s childhood friend and the last person anyone would have thought Dr. Alwanga would fall for, had ended up marrying him. It made sense that they’d stop by the house with their kids, since they lived in Nairobi.

“Simba and Chuki,” Hope said. No surprise there.

“Pippa’s coming up, too,” Ryan said. He shrugged at Philip. “I figured I’d say so before you did.”

“Go put your head in a—”

“Hey, you two. Stop it now.” Hope gave them a look no kid would have challenged. Then again, these were Maddie’s brothers. “That was your surprise. Pippa and your uncle Jack are already at the house waiting to see you.”

Maddie grinned.

She couldn’t wait to see Pippa. They had so much catching up to do. Plus, in all honesty, with everyone around, her dad would be less likely to ask about the case she was working on. At least for tonight.

As they departed, she looked out the window at the familiar buildings and scenery. The conversation in the car faded to the back of her mind. A horn blared at a man weaving a motorcycle-like boda boda through the traffic while transporting a daring passenger. No helmets for protection. A man stood at a small kiosk near the intersection up ahead selling freshly squeezed juice, while his goat ate peels on the ground next to him. A brand-new, rather stunning hotel, with beautifully manicured gardens at its entrance, stood across the street from the man and goat. The old and new. The familiar and unfamiliar.

The past, present and future always seemed to collide when Maddie came here. A trick of the mind. A side effect of memories. She was tired. It had to be why she suddenly felt down. She rubbed absentmindedly at her stomach and barely heard someone say something about her being hungry. She wasn’t, but she couldn’t move her lips to explain. Her lids felt heavy and the hard glass of the window touched her temple as the world outside disappeared. She missed having good friends around. She wanted more than anything to see her cousin Pippa, but truth be told, she wished Haki was going to be there tonight, too.

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.”