Echoes In The Mist

by Rifi Strawn

  Jeremy discreetly gave her thumbs up as the guests got on their phones to help his cause. “You’re an amazing salesperson. Almost everyone is donating.”

  “Marketing things is the only thing I do right.”

  “That’s not true.” He stopped and looked at her. “You also do a great job of decorating, organizing, and putting me in my place.”

  She smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  His gaze softened. “I thought I’d be babysitting a spoiled city girl. I’m glad to say you’ve proved me wrong with your quick adaptation to the animals and hard work at the lodge.”

  “I have an excellent teacher and guide.”

  His smile lingered as he assigned her another chore. “I need you to sign up the guests for the village tour this afternoon. We need all of them to support the local craftsmen. The people depend on them to feed their families.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s a privilege they can’t miss.” She scanned the group and then rounded up the guests. “Hey, everyone. This afternoon we’ll be going to an ancient village. It’s one of the oldest inhabited settlements in Zambia. You’ll meet the chief’s daughter and her family. They’re expecting us, so don’t miss it. I’ll need a hand count to make arrangements for the ride there.”

  Almost everyone raised their hands. Stanley jotted down the names.

  Jeremy drove to the lodge and winked at her. “Good job.”

  Chapter Eleven

  After lunch at the lodge, Jeremy enticed the guests with a sneak peek into the six-hundred-year-old village. “At the village, you’ll stand where Dr. David Livingstone, the Scottish explorer, had to wait for three days to meet the locals.”

  Stanley nervously walked up to Jeremy. “Hey. What if the men who attacked Tabo are waiting for me in the village?

  “You’re safer with me on a tour than at the lodge. I won’t be able to protect you if I’m gone.”

  She pondered. “Okay, I’ll come. I need your protection more than ever now.”

  The dusty ride ended in the main village square. Tabo greeted the group with her cute, chubby baby girl on her hip. She had her routine down to get the guests’ attention. They all gushed over the adorable child.

  “This is Sepo. She’s six-months-old. Her name means “hope.”

  Stanley smiled at Sepo’s big, shiny eyes staring at her. “Oh, she’s so beautiful.” She wasn’t the only one in the group who couldn’t resist touching the baby’s plump arms and legs.

  Jeremy gathered the group for instructions. “There’s no fee to see this village. However, the people are happy to give you a glimpse into their humble lives for a small donation. Your tax-deductible gifts will help fund freshwater drinking wells for the village.” He mentioned that Stanley’s aunt had funded the first well. “Before these wells, people and animals shared the same water supply. Many children have died from drinking contaminated water. Since the installation of the freshwater wells, we’ve seen a drastic reduction in illness among children.”

  “What do the villagers think of foreign intervention here?” asked a guest.

  “The villagers appreciate the help, but they think the tourists are crazy.” He chuckled. “The tribal people don’t understand why people fly halfway across the world to see the big animals and their mud huts.”

  After the laughter simmered, he gestured to his best tour guide. “Tabo will give you a glimpse of her home and some of the other huts here. She’s an interior designer, artist, and expert seamstress at this village and our lodge. To top it off, Tabo is also the descendant of the great chief, who led Dr. Livingstone to Victoria Falls. She has deep roots here. There is no one better than her to show you this ancient village.”

  Stanley ambled closer to Jeremy and tipped her fedora’s brim forward to hide her face. Maybe she was paranoid, but some of those curious gazes were stalking her. She waved flies from her face. They hovered over the children’s dirty, happy faces with runny yellow noses and gooey eyes. Tabo wiped her baby’s nose with a clean rag. Those flies are nothing, but germ transporters.

  Stanley pulled her shirt away from her sweating body. It stuck to her like a second skin. Fanning her hot face with her hand, she looked at the children’s mismatched shorts and colorful shirts, some with famous sports team logos from western countries.

  Most of the women also wore hand-me-downs from charities. Their clothes and shoes were too large for their slender bodies. Maybe she’d see some of her dresses, shirts, and pants making a comeback in this village. She’d donated bags full to Aunt Zoie when she collected a donation for here. She returned the happy smiles and noticed that despite their hardships, the villagers had an upbeat attitude. They must find solace in their tight family and friendship bonds.

  Tabo gave the tour group quick glimpses into the natives’ sparsely furnished huts. Modest bed rolls leaned against the walls and empty wooden bowls sat next to the earthen pots full of fresh drinking water. Jeremy said the containers helped keep the water cool.

  They stopped at a running creek that had supplied the village water before the wells were drilled. She cringed at the algae-covered bottom. He said the children drank from the same water as the skinny dogs and timid birds. No wonder the people got so sick.

  He lowered his voice. “This water is contaminated with human and animal-sourced bacteria. The entire village had to boil their water before using it, but many still became sick.” Whispers floated among couples about how much to donate. On cue, he said, “No amount is too large or small. Your donations today will contribute toward a new well.”

  Later, he sat under a giant shady baobab tree to talk to the group. Its broken branches and the scars on its massive trunk revealed the village’s past hardships. “Dr. David Livingstone waited here for three days to meet the natives under this tree. The people hid in their huts from him. The villagers had never seen a white man before and thought he was a ghost.”

  When the laughter simmered, he continued. “Dr. Livingstone treated the natives’ illnesses in exchange for information about Victoria Falls and the Zambezi River. Tabo’s great, great grandfather led the good doctor close to the falls, but the chief stayed at a distance. The villagers believed the mist from the falls was dangerous. They called the great falls, Mosi-oa-tunya, which means ‘the smoke that thunders.’”

  The tour continued to a small school. “Daisy, Stanley’s aunt who I’ve been talking about, spent many hours here teaching the children and women how to read and write.”

  Stanley’s gaze fell on the modest desks and chairs. She could see her aunt patiently teaching the children reading, writing, and math just like she had taught her. It made her proud of Aunt Zoie’s incredible achievements for worthy causes here.

  On the way to Tabo’s hut, Jeremy looked at Stanley. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m amazed at my aunt’s accomplishments here, and how resilient these people are to hardships. They’re so happy and content with so little.”

  “Africa can change a visitor’s life,” he said. “People think they come here to help the needy, and they go home with emotional healing.”

  “How long has your family lived in Africa?”

  “I was born and raised in Cape Town. My grandparents on my father’s side came here as missionaries from Holland. My nana was a nurse, and Papa was a doctor. They worked nearly forty years here.”

  “I bet your grandparents had all kinds of stories to share about the tribal people.”

  “Oh, yes.” He smiled, after a quick glance at the village women. “My nana said in the village where she worked, the women didn’t wear tops. She started a clothing donation program that gave the native women dresses to wear, but they’d cut out holes for their breasts. When nana asked about their alteration, the frustrated women said it was too hard to feed their babies.”

  Stanley chuckled. “I guess it’s all a matter of perspective. Function over form.”

  Two guards stood outside the walled-in compound of the
largest hut in the village. Tabo proudly smiled. “This is where I was raised. My father, the chief, is inside working on important village matters. He doesn’t have time to meet you, but he gives you his blessings.”

  She admired Tabo’s resilience after the attack. The brave woman had done an excellent job of hiding her scrapes and bites with the high neckline of her long dress. “Tabo must’ve told the chief about the assault,” she whispered to Jeremy.

  “I doubt it,” he whispered back. “Such acts bring shame to the chief. Tabo will probably keep it a secret and not draw unnecessary attention to herself or her father.”

  “So, the bad guys go unpunished?”

  “I’m pretty sure Lucky will find and punish whoever it was.”

  Tabo led the group to a unique hut next to the chief’s, which was surrounded by a high wall. “This is where I live with my family.”

  Stanley stood in awe, admiring the native drawings on the hut’s exterior walls. They were worthy of display in an art gallery. “You have an amazing artist here.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  “Tabo uses ash and charcoal to make these spectacular designs. And she changes the decorations every season,” Jeremy informed the group.

  “No way.” Stanley’s gaze fixed on the details. “This is museum-worthy art. These shields and the warriors’ costumes deserve a life-size canvas in an art gallery.”

  She zoomed her camera lens on Tabo’s drawings. She wasn’t the only one ranting and raving about the art. Maybe this artist was on to something. The tourists were taking pictures of her hut and posting her drawings on social media. Such publicity would be much more effective than trying to reach the select audience of an art gallery. Tabo could be a world-wide sensation if this happened all the time.

  Stanley gave the woman another admiring glance. She had both beauty and brains.

  She handed Jeremy her camera. “Would you take a picture of Tabo and me?”

  He looked around. “Okay.”

  She noticed Jeremy was a bit paranoid about taking her picture in the village. He could be worried about the kidnappers watching them. After a quick pose in front of Tabo’s hut, she walked with him inside to take a look. Tabo’s talent had no limits. Her unique hand-painted pottery, plates, and glasses were displayed on shelves.

  “We should get a newsletter started to kick off the lodge’s new image,” Stanley whispered to Jeremy. “It would be nice to feature an entire article on Tabo’s artistic talent and highlight such an important employee.”

  “Not a good idea.” He tucked his hands in his front pockets. “You’ll only jeopardize Tabo’s safety.”

  She grunted. “It seems impossible to attract new business to the lodge.”

  Tabo poured her special fresh-squeezed lemonade into wooden cups to welcome the guests. “I’ll watch Sepo while you work.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  Stanley carried the reluctant little girl on her hip, just like her mother. Sepo’s tiny, beautiful round face stared at her. Before the baby’s quivering little mouth opened to wail, Jeremy gave Sepo his key chain to play with and made funny faces to entertain the cutie.

  “She’s so cute and squishy.” Smiling, she squeezed Sepo’s chunky thigh again and then held each plump toe and sang this little piggy went to market.

  Jeremy smiled. “You look good with a baby on your hip.”

  She looked at that rolled out lower little lip again. “I don’t know if this baby likes me.”

  He smiled at Sepo’s brown eyes staring at Stanley’s face. “She’s pretty attached to her mother.”

  Sepo’s soft cries reached Tabo’s ears. Stanley handed her the baby, and Sepo stopped crying. “Thank you, my lady.”

  She played with the Sepo little bracelet that matched Tabo’s. “Did you also make this beautiful jewelry?

  “Yes, my lady.” Tabo pulled Sepo up her hip. The baby sucked on her thumb and continued to stare at Stanley.

  Stanley’s intrigue with the jewelry caught Jeremy’s eye. “She uses multi-colored telephone wires to make the bracelets and necklaces.”

  “What a great recycling story. Too bad I can’t use it.”

  “Nothing goes to waste here.”

  “The people are very resourceful,” she said. “Turning trash into treasures, another good article for the lodge’s newsletter or brochure.”

  The tour ended in the village market. Stanley eyed the rows of small shops filled with beautiful handcrafted jewelry, animal sculptures, and kitchen utensils. The talented vendors proudly showed their crafts and enticed the visitors to buy them.

  She picked up a wooden bowl and turned to consult Jeremy about the price, but he’d left the walled-in market. Where did he go? In a mild panic, she stepped outside the gate to look for him. He was playing soccer with the children in the village square. He must not be worried about her safety here.

  She leaned against the wall and admired his fancy footwork. The children copied his kicks and shuffles and chased him around with happy laughter.

  Hands up in celebration, Jeremy chuckled and ran in circles with his young teammates. “Gooooal!”

  “My goal,” screamed a young boy.

  Jeremy ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “Our goal.”

  A pushy vendor’s low whispers badgered Stanley to buy his crafts. “I will give you a special price.”

  “No, thank you.” She gave the conniving man a skeptical look. “You’re supposed to wait for your turn.” Jeremy said every shopkeeper gets an equal chance to sell their goods.

  Out of breath, Jeremy came to her rescue. “The prices are fixed, so you don’t have to bargain.”

  She turned to look at the persistent vendor but he’d vanished into thin air. “Where did he go?”

  “He knew he was in trouble.”

  A proud mother came to see Jeremy with her five-year-old son. She coaxed the child to recite his ABC’s and 123’s for him.

  Jeremy crouched to the shy boy’s eye level. “Who taught you this?”

  The boy smiled. “Mama Daisy,”

  Was that her aunt they were talking about again? Glimpses into Aunt Zoie’s selfless alter ego—Daisy—inspired Stanley to leave her mark on the village. Somehow, she must convince Jeremy to hold a fundraiser here to help these people.

  On the drive back to the lodge, smiling and waving children ran behind the Rover. Stanley checked the side mirror to make sure no one would get hurt. She took a double-take as the trail of dust settled. A giant baby elephant with huge flapping ears and clumsy feet joined the chase.

  Jeremy slowed down after a quick look. “That’s Tutu. Her wild herd passes by the village every day on the way to the river.”

  The enamored guests, along with Stanley, took pictures and wondered if the baby elephant would hurt the children. One missed step and nudge of the three-hundred-pound baby could do some serious damage to the tiny bodies around it.

  Tutu kept a safe distance as she stomped her happy feet and waved her tiny trunk.

  “These elephants don’t hurt the people?” Stanley asked. “You told me to stay away from them.”

  “Elephants are social animals,” Jeremy said and kept a close eye on Tutu in the rearview mirror. “They know the difference between hostile and friendly behavior. Tutu has played with the children since she was a month old.”

  “Hmm…that makes sense.”

  Stanley chuckled at Tutu’s joyful trumpets that matched her playmates’ laughter. She loved how her huge feet came to a running halt along with the children’s when the Rover drove off the dirt road onto the pavement. It was like she knew what to do. That baby elephant was the cutest she’d ever seen. Those warm brown eyes looked right at her and melted her heart.

  When Jeremy took a vote to see Tutu play with the children tomorrow, Stanley was the first to raise her hand. “I’m in.”

  At the lodge, Jeremy came smiling to her with hands behind his back. “I have a gift for you,” he said.

  She bea
med. “Really?”

  He slipped the gorgeous beaded bracelet similar to Tabo’s on her wrist. “I thought you might like this recycled jewelry.”

  If she were buying it, she would’ve picked this bracelet for its stunning geometric design. “I love it.”

  “It’s a welcome gift.”

  “Thanks.” She reached to kiss his cheek. Last second, he turned his head and stole a kiss on her lips. Tingling from his affectionate touch, she blushed and looked down at her bracelet. “Did Tabo make it for you?”

  “Yes.” He pointed to the coral and black beads. “These belonged to my nana.”

  “I’m so impressed. The colors remind me of the rainbows here.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and walked to her hut. “I hope this small gift helps lift your spirits after the eventful morning you’ve had.”

  She nervously looked around. “I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

  He opened the hut door for her, and a tarantula ran out. She quietly moved out of the way. “I told you he’d be back.”

  He smiled. “Look at you. You’re not screaming and jumping like before.”

  “The bugs don’t bother me anymore after the kind of scares I’ve had lately.”

  He checked the time. “Why don’t you rest up? I’ll pick you up for dinner duty in two hours.”

  “Okay.” She locked the door after he left.

  ~*~

  That night at the lodge, Stanley finished sweeping and cleaning the tables after the last guest left. Jeremy stopped by to check on her.

  “Need help?” he asked.

  “Yes. You can help me move some furniture in here.”

  He looked at the congested room with chairs and tables. “You’re working too hard.”

  “Decorating this place beats sitting in my hut and worrying about getting kidnapped or bitten by bugs.”

  He called it a night after half-an-hour of rearranging furniture with her. “Let’s go enjoy the moonlight.”