LOOK OUT

If jungle drums are beating, I won’t hear them. If there are termite hills, I’ll vomit. This safari thing was a bad decision forced down my throat by my still adventurous mate, my husband, Harry. Every possible excuse I conjured up I pitted against his determination. Each evening for weeks we tried to discuss, but ended up arguing about the expense, long flight, my fear of snakes, spiders, my insistence on a clean bed, clean water and a flush toilet. Last night Harry came to dinner with balls of cotton stuffed in his ears. He handed me a large box, wrapped like only he would wrap a gift, in brown paper. On it he pasted photos of elephants caring for their babies, graceful giraffes, gazelles leaping over each other. I was trapped, had to say ‘thank you’ when I opened the box. I didn’t mean to, but I did smile. He bought me a safari jacket, khaki pants with too many pockets. I threw the pith helmet at him and told him to wear it.

I left him then, sitting alone at the table, no dinner in front of him. As I ran up the stairs, I blew up. ‘You Bastard. I don’t want to go to Africa. Go without me. Find a snake loving floozie, I won’t care.’

At the airport I really got nasty. ‘I hope the plane crashes and you are the only casualty.’ Dumbo thought that was funny and tried to hug me. Instead I gave him a fast, hard kick in his butt. Let his butt hurt. Mine still did from the many shots I had to take. Chances of my getting typhoid, being bitten by a tse tse fly in my kitchen were nil. Damn him. Harry got his shots, too, and I was delighted to see him complain, get a high temperature. He took care of himself. He and his buddy, Jack Daniels, got him thru the worst part.

The group of 19 immediately tie bonds, are excited as children at birthday parties. There is one laggard in the group, ME. We have three, hopefully well trained tour guides, each has a rifle and hand gun, loaded at all times. Two are stalwart, tough looking men, with dried out skin from too much sun. for If Harry thinks that makes me feel safe, he is really stupid. Everyone else is loaded down with cameras, hard candies, pens, medicines, caps, lots of insect nets, lotions, balms, band aids. The third guide is Sally, blond short hair, a nice body but too muscular for back in the States, unless she has ambitions of being a champion lady wrestler.

JoJo, safari guide #1, warns us of too many things I don’t want to think about. He explains the terrain we will be covering, where we will sleep, what we will eat. I listen to every word, do not intend making mistakes, of getting out of sight of the guides except when I shower or use ‘the facilities’ whatever they might be. We have a short flight on S. Africa Airways to Kenya, stopping at a Masai village. My lord, the men are tall and skinny. They are friendly and offer us fresh blood from their sacred cows. If they got insulted by my not trying it, too bad.

We all agreed we had enough for the day and needed to rest. JoJo kept us moving. There was a bus in the brush that took us to Nairobi. My arm didn’t hurt anymore but every bone in my body cried out, ‘take another road, this is too bumpy.’ Of course there is no other road and we jounce and bounce toThika, to Nijeri, to see gorgeous birds, unbelievably colorful. I am impressed but know that with a little effort I could see them at the NY aviary.

We drag our tails, insist on rest. Oh, no. we are going up a tree to a lodge to watch the animals come to their watering hole right below us.‘Jo Jo, do any of them climb trees?’ He smirks and addresses the group, ‘Not when I’m on watch.’

Rhonda, who looks about my age, pokes me at 2 a.m. ‘Are they hyenas down there?’ ‘Look like hyenas but I don’t her them laughing.’ That rolled off her back. Harry is hanging over the railing, taking pictures. For a minute I consider the possibility of kicking him again and watch him fly like a bat to be eaten by the hyenas. Instead I look down and there is a lion, full mane, rough, sandy. He puts his paw in the water, then licks his foot. I am in awe. Who taught him that? The beauty of morning beats back home. There is much green around us. The blue sky fills the hole in the tree tops. We have a delicious breakfast, gather our things, leave no garbage, no trash and are headed to the Serenghetti. Ssh, Ssh, don’t mention it to Harry, but I’m getting interested in what is around me. The Plain is vast, so many animals, wildebeasts, elands, maybe a panther lurking somewhere. I hear a kitten and tell myself to find that little baby before a lion eats him for dessert. The sound is sad and I drift towards it while still keeping my eyes on the group. There he is, caught on a root. My hand goes toward It. A deep, low groan sounds, then a roar. I shudder, freeze. The lioness is coming towards me. JoJo comes from nowhere, his rifle ready, and stands between the lioness and me, taking small steps backwards, ever so slowly, careful not to knock me over. The rifle doesn’t scare the lady. She’s on her haunches, creeping up on JoJo. ‘Fire!,’ I hiss to him. Sally is now behind. I am a sandwich. She moves very slowly one step over, nudges me to let her in. Would I say ‘no?’ I move.

The lioness has gone back for her baby and has lost interest in us.The group didn’t even see it. They were watching birds. Only Harry saw what happened. ‘Honey, Darling, Sweetheart. Wait ‘til you see these pictures. I got it all recorded. You are going to be famous on Beakman St. ‘

I was such an idiot to wander even a few feet but how could I let that little pussy cat be out there by herself? A hyena would love to have her for breakfast.

The ten days really have gone too fast. I was a lot more careful after my folishness and have apologized to Harry for being such a stubborn oaf. We didn’t make Kilamonjaro but watched in horror as many of the wildebeasts crossing the river never got very far. Crocodiles ate them as easily as I eat spaghetti. Africa Air was on time to take us back to the States. Delta was late. On board, I fell asleep on Harry’s shoulder, before the dried peanuts came around. When I woke, he was holding my hand and had one foot twisted around mine.

Again, I apologized for my nastiness and later for leaving my pith helmet on the plane. Harry said he’ll buy me a new one, green, next time.