by Wendy Owens
“It’s been too long, my friend. How are things?” I ask, looking at Ti!ae, waiting for Jumanda to translate. Through him, we discuss the boys and girls who have now entered into the shaman apprenticeship. Despite the hardships I know they face on a daily basis from their local government, Ti!ae only discusses the positive things that have occurred within the tribe, such as the marriages that have taken place since I was here the last time. His optimism is always a fresh and welcome change for me.
I introduce him to Kenzie. He excitedly welcomes her, just as he did to me all those years ago on my first trip to Africa. Ti!ae’s attention is pulled away by a mother concerned about her child’s cough.
Kenzie and I walk, I show her the places where the men construct bows and the simplistic yet effective traps. The place where soon she will likely witness a healing dance, if she’s lucky. As we reach the end of the camp, I notice an expression on her face that I don’t recognize.
“A little overwhelming isn’t it?” I ask.
She nods, but still says nothing.
“You’re quiet,” I remark, worried she may still be upset from my short behavior earlier.
She shrugs her shoulders, then releases, delivering a lingering blink. “I just never really thought about much outside of Chicago, if that makes any sense.”
“That makes perfect sense,” I assure her. “People see a glimpse of this life on TV, but it doesn’t make it real.”
I can’t help watching her as she takes in the scene unfolding before her.
“How often do you come here?” she asks me.
“I try to book some sort of job that will get me out here at least once a year,” I answer.
“Really?” She seems surprised.
“It wasn’t that long ago that the government evicted the Bushmen off of their land. As a photographer, I feel like if I can even shine the smallest light on the injustices they face, then I need to.”
“Evicted for what?”
“Greed, what else?” I grimace, my voice dripping with cynicism.
She tilts her head. A smile climbs across her face.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Look at the way they are with their children,” she answers, her gaze never breaking from the cluster of children gathered around two of the hunters and a mother. My eyes move back to her, fixed on the way her eyebrows lift in a bright and childlike way. She looks so pure and innocent. I have to remind myself that people from our world are far from innocent. She has some sort of agenda— I’ve learned that much in my twenty-seven years on this earth. Looking at her now, though, it’s hard to see what it might be.
“They’re probably the warmest people I’ve ever met in my life,” I add.
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do them harm.”
I smile at her naive innocence. “Between the Hoodia frenzy and the introduction of the diamond mines, it’s a daily struggle for them just to continue with their way of life.”
“They don’t seem to bother anyone,” she remarks.
“They’re viewed as a nuisance. When the evictions were ruled unlawful, they began arresting them when they would go out on a hunt, claiming they were poaching.”
“That’s terrible. They can’t just do that, can they?” she gasps.
Kitten never cared to even travel out to the bush with me, let alone to listen to the struggles the people faced. Kenzie’s outrage is obvious, and I find it intriguing.
“They’ve regained the right to hunt, but the restrictions are so numerous, it makes it difficult. It’s a real struggle for the ones who remain in the reserve here.”
“I don’t understand how the government can get away with this,” she cries in disgust.
“Because the people in the western world want their weight loss drugs and oversized diamonds.”
“That’s insane.”
“Do you know where the diamonds in your jewelry come from?” I realize as soon as the question leaves my lips that it sounds accusatory.
For the first time, her gaze breaks away from the camp and focuses on me. Her stare narrows, and she steps uncomfortably close to me. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I am not a spoiled little rich girl. I don’t own any diamonds. My family has always worked their asses off just to keep food on our table, so before you judge other people, you might want to get to know them.”
She doesn’t wait for me to respond, turning and walking away from me, toward a group of women who are stringing small beads onto twine. I think of chasing after, apologizing … again. I reconsider, deciding things are better this way. As long as she hates me, I’m not tempted to kiss her.
Much to my surprise, Kenzie takes a seat in the dust, among the gathering of Bushmen women and children and with only her smile and body language manages to communicate with them that she wishes to help. She’s fascinating. Without even speaking the same language she somehow has them laughing.
Jumanda approaches me with a grin plastered across his face from ear to ear. This is often an expression he has.
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
“You like her,” he says matter-of-factly.
“She’s my employee,” I remind him.
He smiles wider and nods. “You like her.”
My lips curve as I open my mouth in response. “She’s interesting, that’s all.”
“You’re going to marry that lady.”
I laugh. “If you say so, Jumanda.” Even if I knew Jumanda was completely wrong about my relationship with Kenzie and where it’s headed, I couldn’t deny that there was something special about her. Her story was simple— she was searching for herself. But the Kenzie I was getting to know wasn’t so simple.
THE MOMENT I WOKE UP, I climbed out of the back of the SUV, putting some distance between Aiden and myself. Strategically, I made sure I went to sleep while he was still talking to Jumanda. This way I was certain to not have to converse with him in such close and confined quarters.
Though I wouldn’t tell him, the 24 hours I’ve spent here in the Bushmen village on the game reserve has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. The people, despite the way they have been treated by others, are so welcoming and kind, it makes the language barrier insignificant most of the time.
Aiden on the other hand treats me like I’m some sort of pampered princess, scared to get her hands dirty. I’m sure it’s due to the caliber of women he’s used to spending his time with, but to be lumped in with them is infuriating.
I watch as two children emerge from their hut, a boy and a girl. They see me immediately, running to my side and pulling me into a dancing circle. I recognize the little girl as one I made jewelry with yesterday.
In a way I envy them. They may be fighting a battle every day, but they know and understand who they are. There’s no doubt about their place amongst this tribe. They will marry, have children, their place is determined, and more than anything, they’re happy. A blissfully simple life, at least, until the outside world had to go and completely screw it up.
The boy releases my hand, distracted by a nearby friend who emerges from his home. Losing my footing, I stumble to the ground and laugh. The girl wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me with a gentle hug. I smile at her, and she grins back.
She shifts my head and proceeds to run her fingers through my hair. I can feel her twisting strands along the crown of my head. Assuming it can’t be any worse than what it probably looks like after sleeping in the back of a truck, I don’t protest.
The land around us is mostly flat. Directly in the small village, the ground has been worn into dirt paths, while surrounding us in every direction are images of grass covered countryside and sand dunes with a smattering of oversized trees on the horizon. Along the border of the settlement are numerous grass hut-like structures, several with a fire pit in front of them. To the left is a larger area with large logs for sitting, and a small area in the center piled high with half-burnt logs and ash. A child, not much ol
der than three or four is playing in the ash with a stick. There’s peacefulness to this existence that I can’t help getting lost in.
I’ve tried to keep my thoughts here and now in the present, but no matter how long I manage to, Ben eventually keeps landing squarely in my thoughts. It’s not that I’m missing him, more that I wish I could figure out what went wrong. Being in love shouldn’t just stop. If I understood what happened between us, why I wasn’t happy anymore, maybe I could figure … I bite my lip. I could what? Fix things? I don’t feel an urgent need to fix things with him. That’s part of the problem.
“Good morning,” Jumanda’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
I look up at the man as he takes a seat next to me in the dirt, the jewelry girl still busy twisting my hair.
“Good morning,” I offer in return.
“He always sleeps late,” Jumanda laughs, tilting his head in the direction of the SUV, aka hotel room on wheels.
I nod, refusing to follow the direction of his gaze.
“He’s such good man, isn’t he?” Jumanda states as if it were fact.
I feel the girl let go of the twists, and I watch as she takes off running in the direction of where a group of her friends has gathered. They’re screaming and laughing, the sight of which forces a smile on my face. When I turn my head, my tangled hair falls in my face. I quickly scoop it back with a hand and filter through the knots with my fingertips.
“If you say so,” I say at last.
“You do not like Aiden?” His question is so direct it startles me.
“What?” I gasp. “I didn’t say that,” I quickly defend.
“Oh good, because he likes you too.” I struggle to process Jumanda’s words, certain there must be some sort of language barrier between us.
“Excuse me?” I ask, stiffening my back and turning in his direction.
“Oh, yes,” he confirms. “He tells me you are so eager to learn and you, oh, what’s the word—”
I wait, my mouth gaping open, desperate to know exactly what word best describes what Aiden has to say about me.
“Yes, determined,” he adds at last.
“Determined,” I repeat.
He nods. “Yes, determined to work hard.”
“I’m not sure how he would know anything about me,” I grumble, not fully intending Jumanda to hear me, even though he does. “He seems too busy making assumptions about who I am than actually getting to know me.”
Jumanda ignores my snarky comment. “I doubt most of these people would be here today if it weren’t for him.”
No matter how much I tell myself I don’t want to know what he’s talking about, I really do. My gaze shifts back to the children playing as they gather small sticks, dropping them off at random huts. “How so?” I try my best to ask casually.
“Most of the people you see here were in a government resettlement camp. Some people call them death camps.”
“That’s terrible,” I say softly.
“The conditions are despicable.” The contempt in his voice makes me shiver. “The areas—they’re too small to support the people. They’re exposed to too many new things. Then they faced many problems—alcoholism, prostitution, diseases.”
“I don’t understand, what did Aiden do?” The question pops from my lips a little too eagerly, and Jumanda grins in response.
“When ruled Bushmen were to be given land back, government still found way to keep them trapped on reservations. They were breaking their own law, but who would stop them? Lawyers come and try to help, but nobody listened.”
I exhale, a tightness surrounding my heart.
“Aiden, he came here with his cameras, and he showed the world what was happening to Bushman. He shined light so bright, government couldn’t hide what they do anymore.” Jumanda spoke with such admiration of Aiden it was hard not to feel moved. “Now Bushmen get to live here, on game reserve.”
“Wow, I had no idea.” I breathe the words.
“See—” Jumanda chimes in a mischievous tone.
I shake my head, in confusion. “See what?”
“You do like Aiden.” A grin spreads across his face, and he’s obviously pleased with himself.
“I guess I do like him,” I relent with a grin, patting his arm.
“Who we talking about?” Aiden’s voice sounds from above me. My stomach sinks, his sudden appearance stealing my breath for a moment. I want to die.
Forcing my eyes upward in his direction I watch as he rubs his fingers across his stubble covered chin vigorously, before shifting an open palm up to the locks on top of his head as he shakes the last of the sleep off of himself. His muscles shift and tighten in his arms as he moves. I catch a glimpse of his flat and hard tummy when he lifts his hand up. Quit looking! He’s your boss, I remind myself.
I feel all soft now when I look at him. Damn Jumanda and his hero tale! The last thing I want is to get gooey feelings about this man. I’ve got enough on my plate to deal with.
I lift my chin, gritting my teeth, fighting the urge to explain that what I meant was that I liked him in a plutonic sense. I mean, in the way you find your purely plutonic friend extremely sexy. In case he didn’t hear who we were discussing was, in fact himself, I manage to convince myself to stay silent.
“Morning, boss.” Jumanda scoots over, creating a space between us and motions for Aiden to take a seat. I contort my face in Jumanda’s direction, intending to let him know I’ll be keeping my eye on him and his matchmaking ideas.
Suppressing the butterflies that are now fluttering wildly in my stomach, I clear my throat and attempt to change the subject. “Good morning, sleep well?”
Aiden sits in the now empty spot, stretching his legs out in front of him. He crosses his ankles and leans back on his elbows. I pull the inside of my cheek in between my teeth and begin to nibble, anything to distract myself from the way he’s just casually showing off how sexy he is. I mean seriously, you don’t see me dropping my jacket sleeve from my body to reveal just how rocking my shoulders are. I watch him intently for a moment, before forcing my gaze back toward the village common area.
He shrugs. “I had trouble falling asleep.” He glances up at me. “Unlike you.”
I could inform him that, in fact, I was awake when he came to lie next to me in the SUV, and I only pretended to be asleep. But I know there’s no way I’m ever telling him that, so instead, I dismiss his teasing. “I guess it’s easy to fall asleep when you put in a hard day’s work. Something apparently you would know nothing about.”
He laughs. “Ouch.”
“So who were you talking about when I came over?” Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
“I gotta go, boss.” Jumanda strategically excuses himself, standing. “Let me know when you’re ready to go on the hunt.”
I wait for Jumanda to leave, and quickly ask Aiden, “Hunt?” Hoping this will distract him from his unanswered question.
He nods. “Yeah, not literal hunt. The black rhino’s protected, but the Bushmen love the hunt, so that’s what Jumanda calls it. We’ll go out with a couple of the young men to help us with tracking.”
“Is it safe?” Yesterday I was informed that camp is safe, but that outside camp was not so much and was told to stay close.
“If you’re asking if you’re going to get attacked by a lion or something, that’s rare.”
“Like how rare?” I gasp, my body responding with exaggerated motions.
“Just don’t go yanking on any tails and you’ll be fine,” he says, crossing his arms behind his head and lying in a flat position on his back. His shirt lifts as he raises his arms, again revealing a small glimpse of his washboard abs.
I mean come on, does this guy exercise 24/7 or is he just one of those annoying people that have been blessed with this body. I can’t even look at a carb without an extra inch being added to my curves. And based on my curves, I like my carbs.
“Who was it again you were saying you liked?” he asks for t
he third time. His eyes are closed, and I have trouble judging if he actually knows who I was talking about and he’s baiting me, or if he for some reason has a genuine interest.
Thinking fast, I answer, “My ex.”
He opens one eye, squinting in confusion. “You like your ex?”
“Of course, I like my ex. You can’t just turn those feelings off,” I insist, deciding I am sticking to my story at all cost.
“I suppose.”
“You disagree?”
“Just not sure I would say I feel anything for my ex. I’m more indifferent toward her.”
I laugh.
“What?” he demands, his eyes are now fully open and fixed on me.
“Well, I’m not sure you can honestly compare two people who were in love with someone you were sleeping with named Kitten,” I fling at him.
“You know, there was more to her than her name,” he defends.
“Oh yeah? Well set me straight, by all means,” I encourage him.
“She was incredible in bed,” he grins and closes his eyes again.
My face flushes hot as I catch myself glancing at his stomach again. Images of what a night filled with sinful screams with him must be like instantly flood my thoughts. I feel a bead of sweat collect between my breasts, and heaving a deep breath I force the scene unfolding in my mind from my thoughts.
“Some relationships are about more than sex,” I inform him boldly.
“So you were in love?” he asks, even toned.
I don’t hesitate in my response. “Of course, I was.”
“Was? So you’re not in love any longer?” he presses.
“I still love him,” I shrug. “I just wouldn’t say I’m in love.”
“So what did he do wrong?” Aiden asks.
“What makes you think he did something wrong?” I frown, sad I don’t have an answer because Ben didn’t do anything specific wrong.