Echoes In The Mist

by Rifi Strawn

He scratched his cheek and held back a smile. “Sorry about the delay. I’ve been driving around looking for a man named Stanley. I didn’t expect he’d be a beautiful woman.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a common mistake with me.”

  He hopped out of the Rover and stood well-above her five-foot-eight-inch height in three-inch heels. Mud covered his loose-fitting khaki pants, long-sleeve shirt, and brown leather hiking boots. He was hardly the debonair lodge manager she’d envisioned in a light-colored linen suit and stylish boots. Obviously, he wasn’t out to impress the volunteers.

  After stomping the dried mud off his boots on the concrete sidewalk, he stepped over it to pick up her suitcase. As he leaned over, she glanced at his broad shoulders, slim waist, and firm butt. This trip is off to a good start, she might’ve gotten the hottest safari guide in Africa.

  He tossed her suitcase in the backseat. She gasped. “Be careful. I have fragile cargo in there.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and opened the front passenger door for her.

  Before sitting, she swiped the grass shavings and animal hair off the worn-out leather seat. This thing could use a good wash and vacuum. As she buckled in, she looked at the mud-splattered windshield. How can he see through it to drive?

  He slid behind the wheel and put the Land Rover in Drive. “How far is the lodge from here?”

  “About half an hour drive.”

  He pressed the button to clean the windshield. The tiny squirts of fluid smeared the mud across the glass even more. Then fast-moving windshield wipers miraculously cleared a perfect view. After he put on his dark sunglasses, he drove from the airport. The rectangular shape of the frames flattered his high cheekbones and strong, square jaw. She’d love to see what he looked like after a shower, shave, and a good haircut. There was a wildness to him that was kind of sexy.

  He punched his foot on the gas and bounced the Rover down the narrow, winding road toward the Lodge. Pulse racing, she gripped the door handle with one hand and held on to the top of her fedora with the other.

  He slowed down. “Sorry about that.”

  “Rough ride.” She looked ahead at the next dip.

  “The recent rains have messed up the roads.”

  She caught him looking at her outfit again. Her designer said she’d be irresistible in this olive-green shade. Maybe he was right. The fence posts blurred by on the dirt road. She had no idea if he was driving her to the right place.

  If it weren’t for his continual polite apologies, she would’ve been more upset about the rough ride. They sounded like a love song in his thick, delightful accent. He could cuss her out, and she probably wouldn’t get offended. Oh, God, is the jet lag getting to me?

  Her attention switched to the tropical landscape. The architectural mimosa trees sprinkled along the way, and scented the air with their fragrant pink flowers. She glanced at the man she’d spend the next three months with. He was busy dabbing streams of sweat from the sides of his face with a clean hand towel. He had some very active sebaceous glands, especially in his underarms.

  Ready to hold her breath to avoid his BO in the downwind, she couldn’t smell it. Could I be attracted to his pheromones? She’d only met a handful of men whose scents she’d tolerated. Selling skincare products required extensive research to appeal to the sense of smell. If there was a bad odor around, she could detect it a mile away, and he didn’t have any. This was really good. It would’ve been torture to work with a stinky boss.

  She stopped another yawn, and he smiled. “You must be tired after that long flight.”

  “I didn’t get a wink of sleep.” She groaned. “The man in the seat next to me used my shoulder for his pillow. I kept pushing him off me, and he kept coming back. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had stinky breath and rancid BO.”

  He chuckled. “I hate when that happens.”

  She hid her privileged lifestyle as the rules for the trip dictated. “I’ve heard there are no such problems in those luxury first-class seats.”

  “I’m sure some passengers don’t care for the smells of gourmet food or wine in that part of the plane.”

  She enjoyed talking to him about almost every subject. He was a typical man and didn’t know much about skincare. Maybe the universe had chosen her to educate him about how to take care of his largest organ. Once she got to know him better, she’d give him a facial just like the women at the shelter. Showing him how to better care for his skin would be a fair trade for his safety tips to protect herself around the wild animals.

  He slowed to a snail’s pace as they drove through a small village. The mud-walled huts with thatched roofs and the dirt road looked like a UNICEF commercial on TV to feed the hungry children. She didn’t know such places actually existed.

  Out of nowhere, a throng of small, dark children chased after the Land Rover as it slowed to a stop. Big, bright smiles beamed across the tiny ebony faces. “Mr. Jeremy. Mr. Jeremy.” They stepped over each other to get his attention. “You have chicklets?” A twin brother and sister, about four, spread open their palms above the other hands. Their unique blue eyes shimmered in the sunshine.

  “Give me…Give me candy, please,” the boy said.

  “Hold on, bru. Jeremy stepped from the Rover and established order out of the children’s frenzy. “You know the rules. Everyone must stand in a line.” Shiny, black eyes fixed on the bag of goodies as he grabbed it from the backseat. He shook a finger at the shoving and pushing to get ahead in line. “Ah…no funny business.”

  The children obeyed and stood still. Stanley’s heart nearly broke at the sight of swollen, malnourished bellies, runny noses, and sounds of their persistent coughs. He should be dispensing food and medication instead of sugary treats.

  Jeremy wiped tiny noses and cleaned dirty faces with the moist towelettes he carried in the Rover. He called each child by name and asked about their activities at school before placing small packages of gum in their eager hands. It seemed he had a soft spot for the twin brother and sister.

  Grateful, skinny arms wrapped around his neck in hugs, as he promised more chicklets next week. Smiling, he ruffled the twin boy’s fine, kinky hair, and offered his cheek to his cute sister for a kiss. He turned the empty bag upside down after giving seconds to each child. “No more. All gone,” he said.

  The twin boy held Jeremy’s face in his hands and looked him in the eye. “You come back soon with more chicklets.”

  Jeremy gently patted his cheek. “You know I will.”

  “Bye, Mr. Jeremy,” said his sister.

  Stanley sat gazing at the compassionate man as he talked with the children. He was Mother Teresa in pants. Maybe he didn’t just stop hap hazardously trying to impress her. Her ego deflated a bit. She looked at the young children’s torn clothes, bare feet, and their desperation for food. Had Aunt Zoie not taken her in at a tender age of five, she might’ve been a begging orphan on the streets. It must’ve been tough for an older woman to raise a child. Her aunt deserved a medal for taking in an energetic little girl like her.

  Her gaze softened as she admired those happy, tiny faces. If it weren’t for their beaming smiles, she would’ve felt even sorrier for them. They had nothing to look forward to, and yet they appeared so content. She could learn a thing or two from them. Perhaps, ignorance was bliss. Would they act the same if they knew what they were missing?

  Jeremy slowly drove the Rover out of the village and checked the rearview mirror. He grunted and lightly tapped the horn so the screaming and laughing children would stop chasing him. After checking the side mirrors, he asked. “I don’t see any stragglers hanging on to the back bumper, do you?”

  She checked. “No.” He sped up to the paved road. “How often do you come to see the children?”

  “I try to come every week.”

  She smiled. “You’re like Santa Claus around here.”

  “It gives the children something to look forward to,” he said. Most of them go hungr
y and don’t have anyone to care for them.”

  “What about charity programs? I’ve seen thousands of TV commercials to raise money for the hungry children of Africa. Where is that money?”

  “The church feeds and clothes them until a desperate person breaks in and steals the donations.”

  “How did the children become orphans?”

  “War. Gang fights. Disease. Rapes. Corruption.”

  “Aren’t there government charity programs in place?”

  “The money doesn’t always end up in the right hands.”

  “What about using private donations to open soup kitchens or food banks?

  “If the people are well-fed and taken care of, no one will do the thugs’ dirty work. The bad guys make sure the people’s basic needs aren’t met.”

  “It seems you’re in an ongoing battle.”

  His voice filled with conviction. “I’ll keep fighting for those children as long as I live.”

  “They’re lucky to have you fighting for them,” she said softly.

  He grabbed a metal canteen full of water from the backseat, unscrewed the lid and offered it to her. “You must be thirsty.”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  Some of her required vaccinations for this trip took two weeks to work. She was only a day past the deadline. It was too soon to share salvia with a man she didn’t know. He could be carrying germs from working with sick animals and children.

  “Did you teach the children to speak English?”

  “No. Most Zambians speak English.”

  “I like their names even though I can’t pronounce them.”

  He smiled after a quick glance at her. “You have a unique name.”

  “My parents named me after my grandfather. They thought I was going to be a boy. I guess they also liked the name for a daughter.” She lowered her sunglasses and looked at him. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have picked this name for myself. It does nothing but confuse people everywhere I go. Twice, I was enrolled in the men’s dorm in a boarding school, and on one trip I had to transfer to the women’s dorm at midnight in the snow. Even worse, I had to stand in a line to prove I was a girl. When I tried to change my name, my aunt talked me out of it for sentimental reasons.”

  “I like your name very much.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  He cleared his throat. “We’ve never had a city girl volunteer before.”

  “What makes you think I’m a city girl?”

  “Most of our female volunteers don’t wear sneakers with heels or paint their nails. Your pretty shoes and hands will get ruined out here in no time.”

  “Don’t worry; I brought a pair of sturdy hiking boots and nail polish remover.”

  “You’re both stylish and practical. I like it.”

  She glanced at his hands on the steering wheel. Other than an inexpensive wristwatch strapped to his left arm, he didn’t have jewelry on. Some married men didn’t wear a wedding band. Maybe his got in the way of work. A man this handsome and well-educated didn’t stay single long—unless he had serious relationship issues in the love department. What a shame it would be if he was impotent. He could have a girlfriend with the help of Viagra.

  “Where are you originally from?” She smiled with her narrowed eyes. “I’ve been trying to place your accent.”

  “Cape Town.”

  Her tired eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to visit South Africa.”

  “It’s a beautiful country. We have it all…natural beauty, history, and culture.”

  “Then why do you live in Zambia?”

  “I came to study the elephants of the Zambezi as a young vet, fell in love with the animals and land, and never left. Nowhere else in the world do they have the magnificent Victoria Falls with its brilliant rainbows and moonbows.” He looked at her. “Why are you here?”

  She hesitated offering bits of truth to satisfy his curiosity. “My aunt came here for a vacation and loved it. When she got back home, she couldn’t stop talking about the elephants, the Zambezi River, and Victoria Falls.” Her voice choked. “I came here to spread her ashes. She left me enough money in her will to fulfill her last wish.”

  His gaze softened. “I’m so sorry for your loss. How long did your Auntie stay here?”

  “Um…about three, maybe four months.”

  “This place has a way of making people fall in love with it.”

  She cleared her throat. “What type of volunteer work will I be doing?”

  “It depends on the day. You might be asked to help out at the lodge or the rehab center.”

  She crossed her arms after hearing her job description. “I had no idea I’d be working as a maid and a gardener. The last time I cooked, cleaned, or mowed the yard was when I lived with my aunt on a farm ten years ago. I miss the work.” Not. She rolled her eyes. Oh God did he see that? “Uh, what kind of sick animals do you work with?”

  “Elephants, rhinos, hippos, and lions…”

  “This job sounds dangerous.”

  “You might like a tour guide’s job. It involves driving the guests at the wildlife sanctuary twice a day to see animals during feeding times.”

  “It’s okay, I really don’t have an eating schedule.”

  He smiled. “I was referring to the animals’ feeding times. They eat at five in the morning and five at night.”

  “I didn’t know the animals around here had a regimented meal schedule.” She bit her lower lip. “Isn’t it risky for the guests to be around wild feeding frenzies?”

  “The animals don’t attack the Rovers,” he said. “They’re used to seeing the wheels in motion and hearing the rumble of the engines. They assume the Rovers are larger animals than them, but harmless. Definitely not predator or prey.”

  The idea of a quick escape at high speed from danger appealed to her. “I want this driving job.”

  He gave her a full job description. “After the rides, you’ll have to entertain the guests with small picnics in scenic spots.”

  “I love entertaining,” she said. “Back home, I organized parties. Gardening, cooking, and cleaning sound good, but I also have a knack for decorating, organizing things, and keeping the books.”

  “Excellent. We need help in all those areas,” he said.

  Beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks. She dabbed her face with clean tissues from her purse. At first chance, she was going to wash her face and reapply the moisturizer, or her skin would dry and wrinkle.

  She pointed to the elephant head sticker plastered to his dashboard. “What’s this ‘Save the Elephant Program’?”

  “It’s a world-wide fundraiser to protect elephants from extinction,” he said. “Every day, hundreds of them die from the hands of poachers, shrinking habitat, and natural disasters. There will be none left if this trend continues. Once these majestic giants are gone, there’s no bringing them back.”

  “What are you doing to protect them?”

  “We educate the public about the threat to elephants from the ivory trade.”

  Ready to help him in his worthy cause, her mind churned with marketing ideas to promote it. Could he be the ‘Elephant Whisperer’ who’d influenced Aunt Zoie? If so, his magic was also luring her to his noble cause.

  He skidded to a stop in front of a rustic gate and looked at her coughing and waving away the road dust. “We’re here.”

  Chapter Four

  Stanley eyed the desolate lodge with overgrown weeds and shrubs, and a parking lot full of pot holes. Jeremy made this place sound like luxury resort. Why would Aunt Zoie invest in this dump? The walled-in Water Haven Lodge looked like a prison.

  Even if she’d been searching for this place, she would’ve missed the small, rickety wooden entry sign. This had to be the best-kept secret in Zambia. The gate opened. Pebbles and hard dirt crunched under the heavy wheels of the Rover, as he slowly drove down the narrow path leading to the sprawling off-white stucco building with a thatch roof. The weeds and the paint chippin
g off the windows looked like no one had lived here in decades.

  She gripped the Rover’s door handle as a family of wild warthogs ran across the parking lot. Eyes wide open, she looked at Jeremy. “Aren’t there fences to keep the animals out?”

  He braked and pushed the gear into park. “The only fences we need are to keep out the human predators. Animals rule in this land.” Jeremy stepped out from the Rover and grabbed her suitcase from the backseat.

  Stanley waited until the warthogs disappeared into the bushes. She scanned the compound for other wild animals. A monkey peeked at her through the curtain of yellow flowers of a tree. “How cute.” It jumped out landing at her feet. “Oh, my God…ahh…” Screaming, she ran to Jeremy and grabbed his arm. The sneaky stalker was showing its teeth to her. “Is it going to bite me?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He shooed the monkey away as if it were a housebroken cat or dog. “Hold on to your hat and sunglasses. He’ll steal them right off your head in one swipe.”

  She put a hand on top of her fedora and gripped Jeremy’s firm bicep with the other. “Make him go away,” she begged.

  He tossed a pebble at the monkey. “Get out of here.”

  Hollering, the monkey jumped off the Rover’s hood into a tree. In swift, agile leaps, its long arms grabbed the branches and climbed to the top of the canopy without a hitch, and then looked down at her as if it were invincible.

  Her eyes narrowed at the crafty fellow. “Is it eyeing my camera?”

  After one look at the monkey, he said, “Probably. Let’s go.”

  In wedge heels, she tried to keep up with Jeremy’s long strides to the porch. She eyed the deteriorating architectural remnants boasting of its rich past. With a few renovations, this place could look terrific.

  She stood under the porch’s rotating fans to cool off and fanned her flush face. Suddenly, four more monkeys jumped off the trees, and she stepped closer to Jeremy. “It’s like they’re stalking me”

  “You’re a primate magnet.” He glanced at her face. “The monkeys like your hat, camera, and sunglasses.”

  “I thought it was my perfume. The ad said its sweet scent would bring out the wild.”