Child of Africa

by T. M. Clark

  Peta nodded. ‘Perhaps it’s time that we include Gideon Mthemba. We’re going to need the police’s help with this. These people are clearly trespassing in the parks.’

  ‘Do you trust Gideon, Amos?’ Bongani asked.

  Amos nodded. ‘He is the type of man who cannot be bought. He has helped us before when Peta wanted to keep the computer.’

  ‘That may not be such a bad idea then,’ Bongani said. ‘With the spotters’ camps and the continual talk of my brother taking children into youth camps, it is probably time to investigate exactly what Tichawana is up to.’

  ‘We need to take this further up the chain in ZimParks,’ Peta said.

  ‘No,’ said Bongani and Joss at the same time.

  ‘You can keep Tsessebe and Rodger in the loop because they already know of the crosses, but no one else,’ Bongani said.

  ‘I will approach Gideon,’ Amos said. ‘According to Julian, there was a powerful N’Goma in the old days who, along with Nyami Nyami, protects the ancestral land and the sacred ground within the park. He said that if someone is making a profit at the expense of the people, they will face the muti, and their death.’

  ‘You believe in that stuff?’ Peta asked.

  Amos shook his head. ‘No, but I respect that others believe in it.’

  Bongani said, ‘It was always said that the curse was to ensure that any money made from these lands was used for the good of the BaTonga people, or there would be a blood price to pay.’

  ‘Nice curse your N’Gomas came up with,’ Peta said. ‘But how exactly does it work?’

  ‘They claim that it had always been here, since the days of the Portuguese slave traders. Each N’Goma, they add to it when they learn their trade, protecting their people, who they will serve. That is how the legend goes. But the people who it affects have to be on BaTonga land for it to work. The curse doesn’t work outside the borders, but no one can be sure.’

  Joss cleared his throat. ‘I’m not so sure on this magic part, but it seems to me these men who burnt the crosses had no idea what they were for. So we can probably believe what is written about the crosses in Hunt’s computer files. His information is too accurate to have been an elaborate hoax or anything like that. His passworded files were precious, even though he was in the middle of the bush. A cautious man, with the information he was in possession of meticu-lously documented. I think we have three different problems here. We have the crosses, and what they might possibly represent, and then we have the game-spotter problem, and then the youth camps.’

  Bongani nodded. ‘Four. Add Tichawana in there too, because I bet he had a hand in there somewhere. I think, too, that we need to be wary of speaking in front of Ephraim, who repeats everything to Mary, who still reports to my half-brother. Perhaps the boys need to learn more about those beehives and chilli plants in Bishu, at my cousin Anton’s fishing village. Spend another week there, so that they are not around here for a while. We need time to sort this out, without Tichawana knowing what we are planning, just in case he is involved.’

  ‘Lwazi will be pleased; he seemed quite taken with the bee queen, Matilda, from the last visit,’ Joss said.

  ‘He won’t be so keen after he’s been stung a few times,’ Peta said. ‘Bee stings hurt.’

  CHAPTER

  24

  Recognition

  Joss, Lwazi and Mitch were getting ready to take their bikes out together. For the first time, they were going to ride to the tar road that went up towards the Sijarira Safari Area, and then towards Binga and back, a big circle.

  ‘Put on your helmet, Lwazi,’ Joss instructed.

  ‘I look stupid,’ Lwazi said. ‘You see the black people riding their bicycles all the time, and no one wears a helmet. And no one wears these tight girl shorts with a big pad between their legs either. If anyone sees me, they will think I am a poofter.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with being gay,’ Joss said.

  ‘No one wants to be seen as being one or they come and take you into the camp for correctional training. There was this kid, I saw him in Binga at the store. He said that I had better behave and not act like a poofter, or the green bombers would come get me. They take kids to the camps and they train them so that they can fight and stuff.’

  Mitch frowned. ‘Fight? In a youth camp?’

  ‘That’s what he said,’ Lwazi said, still looking down and tugging at his new cycling pants.

  ‘Ridiculous,’ Joss muttered under his breath, but made a mental note to speak with Bongani about it – this was the third time the youth camps had come up. Then, louder, he said, ‘You’ll be happy for that extra padding in an hour or so. The helmet is still a deal breaker. We already discussed this – wear it or you don’t ride with me. If you fall off when riding at our speeds, you’ll crack your head open, and Madala White will never forgive me.’

  Lwazi nodded, then gave his pants a last tug.

  ‘You can wear normal shorts over them if you want,’ Mitch said, ‘but that padding will help. Believe me, these are better than shorts and if us marines can wear them, so can you.’ Joss smiled and pulled his latest surprise for Lwazi out of his pocket. ‘Perhaps if you stopped moaning about your clothing, you might see these, and think they are okay. Looks like they will go with that stupid helmet just fine.’

  ‘These are mine?’ Lwazi asked, looking at the polarised sports glasses swinging from Joss’s fingers.

  ‘You don’t have to wear them if they’re going to make you feel like a girl,’ Joss teased.

  ‘Awesome. Thank you,’ Lwazi said, putting them on.

  Joss shook his head.

  Mitch laughed. ‘You willingly signed up to be a father, and will have to put up with this type of backchat from your daughter one day.’

  ‘No, everyone says girls are easier than boys.’

  ‘When they are younger,’ Mitch said slowly, as if trying to get the word into Joss’s head.

  Joss had changed the attachments on the end of his prosthetics for cycling grips, and was now mounting his bike using a small wall for balance.

  ‘Come on, Joss,’ called Lwazi, who stood with his bike between his legs.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Joss said and he pushed off, wobbled for an instant before the momentum of the bike picked up and he glided as best he could across the gravel.

  Cycling on the road was never as easy as using the stationary bike in his gym, but Joss used the gears, finding one that worked for him on the small incline. He could see Lwazi hadn’t changed gears. Like any teenager, he was hurtling along headfirst, just knowing that he would have enough energy to ensure he’d get through the day – if he had to dig deep, he would. Lwazi had the temperament of a natural competitor. Of a winner.

  They were booked into their first biathlon later in the year and although he hadn’t told Lwazi yet, Joss knew he would do well. He’d held off booking into the Ironman triathlon because, although it was still a dream to compete in it, it was no longer so important to him. The restlessness he felt when in England had abated in Africa, and he was content. The importance of competing paled in comparison to seeing the joy of Lwazi learning to ride and run and watching the lap pool being constructed, knowing that soon the boy would learn how to swim. Competing in the triathlon would take Joss away from watching Sophia wake each morning and giggle and reach up to him. He knew that she would begin to talk one of these days and if he was away, he might miss her first words. His heart broke that Peta would probably miss them anyhow, even if he got his camera in time to record it, as despite wanting to be together all the time, her work was in Matusadona and Chizarira, and his lodge wasn’t part of that. For the moment, she was the one doing all the travelling. Keeping Rodger as settled as possible was high on both of their agendas. While they had told him they were ‘dating’, they hadn’t discussed him possibly moving to the lodge if Peta did. After all, they were a package deal: Peta, Rodger and Tsessebe. He’d known that from the onset. And he wouldn’t have Peta any other way.
/>   Just thinking of her had him smiling, wondering what she was up to.

  He glanced at his watch. Already an hour had passed; it was almost time to turn back on the road.

  ‘Come on, move it, slow poke,’ Mitch called as he passed him, and Joss showed him his middle finger. Only to see Lwazi jam on his brakes, his bike skidding to a halt.

  Mitch almost hit him, stopping just in time. He stood there like a buck in the headlights.

  Joss turned small circles as close to Lwazi as he could, keeping his bike upright.

  Crossing the road in front of them was a herd of elephants. The matriarch was already halfway across. Behind her, a baby followed closely, but it was playing, dragging a stick with it. The matriarch was big, and she wore an old and worn collar behind her ears. She flapped her ears at them, smelling the air as she did. She seemed to hesitate, then the elephant behind her nudged her forward, and she moved about two steps before turning again to Joss. This time she stepped towards them.

  ‘This is not good,’ Lwazi said. ‘She does not look happy with us.’

  The matriarch continued to flap her ears, and had her trunk raised, smelling.

  ‘Hold on to me while I unclip,’ Joss said, and he stopped next to Lwazi, who already had his feet firmly on the ground.

  Lwazi held tightly to the frame of the bike as Joss got his ‘feet’ out of his pedals.

  The elephant listened to the strange noise, but she didn’t back away. Behind her, the herd continued to cross the road, confident that the matriarch would protect them, her rumbles soft and reassuring.

  She took another step forward.

  ‘Ndhlovy,’ he called. ‘Is that you? It’s me. It’s Joss.’

  The elephant flapped her ears again and she took another step towards them.

  ‘Lwazi, go down the road with Mitch. She looks like the elephant I saved, and I’m not sure if she remembers me.’

  Lwazi shook his head. ‘If I leave you here, and she charges, she will trample you.’

  ‘If she was going to charge, she would have done so already. She’s smelling us, she’s curious.’

  The matriarch took another step. Now her trunk wasn’t held high, she had brought it down, and made a loud, long, rumble sound.

  ‘You’re crazy, Joss,’ Mitch said. ‘Been nice knowing you. We thought you were nuts in Afghanistan; now I know you’re certified crazy. Have you not noticed the size of that thing?’

  ‘I know, but I think she knows me,’ Joss said.

  Lwazi made sure that Joss was standing, then slowly backed away.

  ‘I’m not sure why I’m agreeing to this,’ Mitch muttered as he backed away too.

  ‘Come on, Ndhlovy. Come on, old friend. Come and say hello.’

  The elephant took another hesitant step, then Joss began whistling like he used to when he was a boy, making calls through his hand, trying to imitate birds, like Bongani did, although he had never perfected it. He had spent many hours around the elephant, practising, driving both Courtney and Peta mad.

  Ndhlovy took another few steps until she was near enough to him that he could see the black hairs on her grey body. She reached her truck to his outstretched hand, and put the tip into his palm.

  ‘Hello, girl.’ He smiled. ‘It’s good to see you. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately.’

  She shook her head like a dog would and placed her trunk back in his hand, then slowly began smelling him all over, across his face, checking him out, getting to know the man he’d become. He patted her trunk, and she stepped closer to him.

  ‘I know, girl, I know. An older me. A man now. Look at you. A matriarch. Good to see you are still safe.’

  Her trunk found the prosthetic blades he wore for cycling. She stepped back, and her ears flapped. A low rumble vibrated through him.

  ‘It’s okay, girl, these are my legs now.’ He took her trunk in his hands and slowly moved it back to his legs, showing her that they were part of him.

  ‘I lost them, girl, I left them in Afghanistan,’ he said. ‘Shit happened there, and they were lost. Just like I see you are no longer travelling with your mother and grandmother.’

  She smoothed her trunk over his cheek, much as she had when he was ten years old.

  ‘It’s good to see you are so big.’ He patted her and she brought her head against his, as if trying to comfort him. He scratched her ear. ‘Look at this; so much has happened to you too. You’re in a tracking program. I wonder if whoever did that even knew that they were tracking my elephant?’

  Ndhlovy made a rumbling sound that vibrated up her trunk.

  ‘I know, girl. So many years have passed, but I’m back. I’m home now. And I’m not leaving ever again.’ He ran his hand along her tusk.

  An elephant from her herd trumpeted, and she moved her head slightly. Another deep rumble came from her.

  ‘Listen to you; you are the matriarch now. The protector. The decision maker. I wonder what happened, how both your grandma and your mum passed over so early, that you are already in this position? They visited me, you know, when I was drifting, after my accident. They made me come back; perhaps they knew that we needed to meet again.’

  She stepped away, but she left her trunk on his shoulder.

  ‘I know. You need to go. Look after your family. I’ll see you at the grove soon,’ he said. ‘Be safe, Ndhlovy.’ He held his hand out to her.

  She put the tip of her trunk into his hand once more, before turning away and walking slowly back into the bushes, where she blended into the environment.

  Joss watched her go.

  He wanted her to turn around, to look back at him, to come back to him again. But he also wanted her to continue her life now that he knew that she was alive. Relief lifted his heart. He hadn’t realised that not knowing about her all these years had been so much a part of his life. He had always hoped, but now he knew.

  ‘If I tell anyone about what I just saw, no one would believe me,’ Lwazi said as he came up behind Joss. ‘You and that elephant really do know each other; it is as if she was sad about your legs.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ Mitch said. ‘I took photos of that whole meeting, mate. That’s the only way anyone would ever believe me when I tell them about this.’

  ‘I was ten when I rescued Ndhlovy,’ Joss said. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to see she’s still alive, that the poachers and hunters haven’t got her. Come on, Lwazi, help me back on my bike.’

  ‘You rescued her when you lived in the lodge? Not in the game park?’ Mitch asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No way,’ Lwazi said. ‘Ephraim and I thought you were exaggerating when you told me about her – we have never seen an elephant here. Ever.’

  ‘She’ll come back. We must warn the villagers that she’ll go right past there with her herd soon. They’ll come through the gate up past the old stables, then down to the grove. It’s an old elephant trail; that’s why there were no buildings there – the track was there when my dad and Bongani set down the plan for the lodge. It’s sad that she is now probably the only one who remembers this path to the trees that heal.’

  CHAPTER

  25

  Glowing Embers

  The rhino bull was huge, probably one of the biggest she had seen in the park. She looked through the binoculars. This old bull had witnessed many years. No ear notching, so he definitely hadn’t been caught before, and judging by the size of his horns, she was glad she had got there before the poachers or the trophy hunters.

  He smelt the air.

  A go-away bird called, announcing their presence, just as Peta released her breath and squeezed her trigger. The shot sounded loud in the early morning. Immediately the rhino turned towards where she was concealed, his big feet planted firmly on the ground, his head up, as if knowing that was the direction the pain had come from. For a split second he seemed to watch her, even though she knew he couldn’t see where she hid. They had chosen their spot well, downwind so that he couldn’t smell them. While the
ir sense of smell and hearing were keen, the rhino didn’t have great sight, and couldn’t tell the difference between a tree and a human at fifteen feet.

  He began to run, 3600 kilograms of angry animal hurtling towards her.

  He veered left and ran past her and the team in the bushes. For about fifty metres he ran, then slowed and began to stagger, the opioid she had administered via the dart taking effect.

  ‘Go,’ she shouted. Her team ran to the rhino.

  Mitch let out the breath he’d been holding. ‘Shit, Peta, I can’t believe you do this day in, day out. He ran right at us and you didn’t so much as flinch.’

  She grinned at him. ‘Just make sure you don’t put any shots of my fat butt in your photos. And remember to keep out of the way unless I ask you to do something.’ She went to join her team. Amos was right next to her, carrying her Husqvarna chainsaw.

  The team of men were skilled and well practised in dehorning and they clambered to get a rope around the rhino’s snout, a soft blanket around its eyes, and then pushed it over onto its side.

  ‘Slowly, careful,’ she said as she always did. At this stage the rhino was pretty much out of it, and special care needed to be taken to ensure it fell onto soft ground, not rocks or tree branches that could cause unnecessary lesions. She moved closer. Amos stepped forward and stuffed some cloth balls into the animal’s ears to cut out as much noise as possible and make the treatment easier on it. He put the chainsaw on the ground and knelt next to the rhino’s head.

  Peta checked the rhino’s front leg to ensure it didn’t get muscle strain from being at a bad angle, patted him on the shoulder as she knelt and put her stethoscope to its chest, listening to the heartbeat.

  ‘Sounding good,’ she said, and looked at Amos.

  ‘Breathing steady,’ he said as he glanced at his watch to check the time.

  Peta nodded. ‘Let’s start then. Pass the scalpel,’ she said, and took the instrument from Assan, her latest vet student. ‘Watch carefully.’ She took a scraping of hair and passed the scalpel back to him. ‘Now you do it.’