by Rula Sinara
Anna. That’s why he’d given her the nickname Mama Tembo a long time ago.
“I thought his mother was killed by poachers.”
“She was. Dr. Bekker is his adoptive mother as far as I’m concerned, so see, I’ve been sent by his mother to protect him.”
“I think you’re rationalizing, Uncle Mac.”
“Maybe.”
Nick started to open his door, but stopped and met his uncle’s eyes.
“You think you could teach me to fly one of these days?”
“Sure. Carry on the Walker tradition, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Your parents would be proud of you,” Mac said. “I know I am.”
* * *
MAC HADN’T STOPPED thinking about the future of Air Walker Safaris and his role as Nick’s guardian. The elephant massacre they’d witnessed today and the fact that no one else had been able to find Bakhari but them only reaffirmed that there was no way he could give up his company. His work was too important. Too critical. If all he saved was one life, it still made a difference.
But he’d also gotten to know Nick, and though he was his nephew, he was beginning to feel like a son. He couldn’t put words to how profoundly getting to share some of his life here with both Nick and Tessa had affected him. For all his love of independence, for some reason, seeing them embrace so much of what had come to define him meant more than any disapproval he’d ever gotten from his father. Tessa had always been the one person he’d wished would like him for who he was. The one person he wanted to share so much with. Yet that had never been possible because of her constant disapproval of him. Only lately, things seemed different between them. She was different—more trusting...more relaxed around him despite the situation with Brice. And the way she’d been looking at him when she thought he wasn’t aware made him wish and want more.
The five of them sat around the dwindling flames of the small bonfire. The Johnsons had long retired to their tent. Nick was still telling jokes, challenging everyone to tell funnier ones, but Tessa was being awfully quiet. She sat there staring into the fire, smiling every so often so that Nick would know she wasn’t ignoring him. Mugi appeared totally entertained by Nick’s quirky sense of humor. Kesi went inside and came back out with mugs of herbal tea.
“You’ve all had long days. I put chamomile plus a few other relaxing herbs in this. It should help you all sleep. It may even help a certain jokester wind down,” she said, chuckling at Nick. “Tessa, try it. It’ll ease your tension headache.”
“You always were a worrier,” Mac said. “No worry, no headaches.”
“I’m not the one who took Nick to a poaching site.”
“Mac, here’s yours.” Kesi handed him a mug. “Drink this and stop pretending you’re so invincible.”
Mac sniffed the mug and made a face.
“You know coffee is more my taste.”
“Drink it,” she said, giving him the look only maternal figures and teachers could pull off.
“Nick,” Mugi said. “About poaching. Remember when you were giving the Johnson twins a lecture on it over dinner? You might want to tone down the graphic nature of your lessons to those younger than you. If we get nightmare complaints from the parents, I’m letting you handle it.”
“They won’t. They told me their parents let them watch all the Jurassic Park movies. Even the ones that came out before they were born,” Nick said. “Plus, they said they told their babysitter that their parents were okay with them watching Arachnaphobia and she believed them. Then they kept hiding rubber spiders around the kitchen to freak her out. They’ve played practical jokes on their parents, too. Trust me, they’re not that innocent or easily scared.”
“Not innocent, huh? After the chicken I found nesting on my pillow this evening, when I was certain I’d closed up the tent, I’m not surprised you kids have been sharing practical jokes, but game on. I’ll have a few of my own I wouldn’t mind putting in action,” Mac said.
“So long as no snakes are involved,” Tessa said, pointing her finger at Mac.
“Don’t look at me. Mugi and Kesi are the owners here. You should train your assistants better. No practical jokes on guests,” Mac said, raising his mug to the older couple and motioning toward Nick.
“Ah, but first, you’re no guest, and secondly, you have more experience with training,” Mugi said. “You have a real office and an assistant. I have a wife, and a man does not even attempt to train a wife—or even let on that the thought crossed his mind—unless he has a death wish.”
Kesi pursed her lips at him and he belted out a laugh, then grabbed her hand and kissed it. The mention of Sue reminded Mac of one more person whose life would be affected if Air Walker Safaris went under or he sold out. The humor of the evening left him.
Mac hated to ruin the fun, but everyone was here, in one spot. If Tess thought he was a risk taker before, she had no idea. This was Mac’s chance to lay it all out on the table...time for Mac to take the shirt off his back. He waited for a break in the entertainment.
“Hey, Nick. Everyone. I’d like to discuss something, and Nick, please don’t run off where the lions roam or raise your voice so that our guests overhear from their tent.”
Nick frowned, but Mac felt compelled to give the warning. He’d seen moods switch at the drop of a pin. Nick had that mastered. He glanced around the circle and noted he had his friends’ attention.
“Air Walker Safaris is about to go bankrupt.”
He’d thought he was prepared for the reactions, but he was sucker-punched by the looks on their faces. Even Tessa’s eyes widened. He felt rotten. Like a failure. Losing Air Walker Safaris would mean letting everyone down: family, friends, the Serengeti wildlife he’d devoted his life to saving. But family was also important. Mugi and Kesi were the dearest of friends, but Nick and Tessa—even if she was only related by marriage—were the only true family he had left. If he went bankrupt, there was no way the shockwaves wouldn’t affect them, whether financially or time-wise, as Mac figured out how to pick up the pieces.
No matter what Tessa decided to do with her future, until Nick became legally independent, she and Mac were going to share much in their lives. They were and always would be friends and Nick’s guardians. They were effectively acting as parents, and he wasn’t about to let her take Nick on as a single mother. Yes, she’d been doing that, but he’d been under the impression that she had Brice around to help. Raising Nick, if they stuck to their plan of saving his inheritance for his college education, would mean Mac needed cash flow. Selling Air Walker Safaris would provide those funds. Being stubborn about hanging onto his company could have a detrimental effect on all of them.
He needed to be smart about this.
After all these years, he still wanted more—wished for more—from Tessa, even if all it could be was friendship. But he and Tessa had never shared the same outlook. She’d always be an important part of his life, but even if her marriage ended, he couldn’t expect her to walk away from a life of wealth to one of bankruptcy or debt. No matter what, he was facing loss: having Tessa walk away and losing AWS and all he’d put into it. He’d lose his freedom and control. Nothing would be the same after this. Maybe his father and Allan...and Maria and Tessa...had been right to criticize his blind leap all those years ago because now he was falling.
Mac watched as Nick wrapped his arms around his waist and sat there staring into the embers that no one was bothering to keep alive. Man, the last thing he wanted was for his nephew to think his presence had caused any of this. Yes, Nick was his responsibility, but he’d never let on that the boy had influenced any decision Mac made about his business. He never wanted him to feel the burden of any sacrifice Mac might have to make. That was way more than the kid needed or deserved.
“It’s not anyone’s fault. Nick? Got that? Not yours. No
t anyone’s. I haven’t been doing as well as I’d like for a while now, and someone bigger and better is sticking their claws in at Hodari Lodge. I’ve been getting offers to sell. Great offers. They’d involve me as a pilot, though I’d be working for someone else and would have to give up certain freedoms, like what I do with my flight time.”
“You can’t sell Air Walker. It’s your life,” Tessa said. He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right, considering she’d been against him moving to Kenya in the first place. The empathy in her eyes told him she understood just how much of an emotional loss AWS would be. He’d lose a part of his identity and soul with it. He’d be following in her footsteps, career-wise. She’d found herself writing and reporting what she was told to write, not what she wanted to write about. She had someone else controlling her passion. He’d have someone else controlling his. The idea sickened him, but his dad’s words kept haunting him. He needed to be responsible.
“Mac, this is sudden. Let’s talk about it. Maybe there’s an alternative,” Mugi said.
“There is only one alternative I can think of, but I’m not sure it’ll pan out.” Mac hated his plan B because it meant humbling himself and admitting that even the stubborn, tough guy needed help once in a while. But it was the only way he could do what was right on all fronts.
“If there’s an alternative that doesn’t involve you selling out, take it,” Kesi said. “I don’t mean that selfishly. We appreciate all you do to help us here at Jamba, and we’ll have to come up with options, as well. I mean it because it’s so important to you.”
“You and Mugi are an important part of my life and I appreciate that, too,” Mac said. “That’s what got me thinking. Why work with people I don’t know or trust if I can work with someone I do?”
Mugi propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Mac could tell his lawyer’s mind was churning.
“Mugi, if I decide to take any of the offers seriously, I would appreciate it if you looked over the paperwork for me.”
“Consider it done, but I’m waiting for your other option.”
“Mugi would be insulted if you didn’t ask him for legal advice. He only gives it free to special people,” Kesi said.
“She’s right about that. I like to be used by friends.” Mugi chuckled. “Keeps all those years as a lawyer from going to waste. But I still don’t like the idea of you selling your bird.”
“There’s a lot of money in that girl, Mugi.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“No, but it is necessary sometimes, and for some of us, it’s harder to earn.” Mac chanced a glimpse of Tessa’s reaction. She was masking it if she had one. “You know how the saying goes—‘If money grew in trees, most people would be married to monkeys.’”
“Some people are,” Nick muttered, glancing fleetingly at his aunt. A kid after his own heart. Rude, maybe, but Mac had to agree she was married to one. However, Nick needed to learn when and how not to cross the line. He knew the boy didn’t intend disrespect, but still.
“I get it, but you need to apologize to your aunt.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, but they’re right. There’s always a way,” Tessa said.
“My therapist told me I should try not to say always and never because they’re almost always never true,” Nick said. He caught everyone by surprise with his words of wisdom. Even Tessa froze with her mug halfway to her mouth. Nick was full of surprises.
“You know, Mac, he’s right. Sometimes it’s difficult to see the watering hole when you’re stuck in the middle of a thicket of thorn bushes,” Mugi said.
Mac tasted a sip of his tea and tried not to make a face. It actually wasn’t so bad after the first sip.
“Are you and Nick having a wise-sayings competition here?” Mac asked. Nick started cracking up.
“There’s always a way in, a way out and a way to fix things,” Mugi said.
“Is that so? Life is one big math problem? There’s always a solution?”
This time Kesi laughed.
“If you don’t have a math anxiety attack partway through the problem. The way he used to,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, Mugi. You want to hear my option? It’s to sell Air Walker Safaris to you and Kesi.” There was silence. Just as he anticipated. He set his mug down on the ground. “You could consider incorporating the air service into what you’re doing here at Camp Jamba.”
Mugi took a deep breath and turned to Kesi. She sat down next to him.
“No pressure,” Mac quickly added.
“Kesi?” Mugi looked to his wife. She nodded once and took her husband’s hand in unity.
“Seems you’re a better businessman than you give yourself credit for,” Mugi said. “I like the idea of integrating a small flight service as part of Camp Jamba, but the answer is no.”
Mac nodded. That was it. He understood and respected the decision. They were a lot older than he was. They’d come out here to semi-retire, not throw their money away.
“There’s no way I’d buy you out and have you as an employee. You’d be hell to deal with. But we will consider a partnership.”
Mac straightened his back. They were willing to partner? His mind buzzed as if he’d had a pot of coffee, not a few sips of herbal tea.
“I want to be clear. I realize you’re a lawyer and not the financial guru and businessman I am,” Mac teased. They all knew he was joking. “But I told you I’m losing money as it is and competition is moving into the area. I’ve been losing money while working from the Hodari Lodge with potential customers right at my feet, and that’s been going on since before bigger tour companies started bidding for a spot there. So turning a profit could be a rough road from out here.”
“Ah, but it’s all about marketing, my friend. Having the right hook. We’ve been content keeping things small here, but Kesi and I were talking recently about marketing this place as a green camp. We could promote the educational experience and make sure every person, adult and child, who came through here would leave not just with an outdoor experience, but with an understanding and appreciation of the landscape and how it’s at risk—from poaching to climate change. Global awareness, one person at a time.”
Mugi had a point. It wasn’t just the money, which was probably why Mac never made enough. The strength in the idea was in coming together to make a difference. It was in acting like a family and having each other’s backs.
“Listen to me, Mac. This is how I see it. From here, you could take what’s important about Air Walker and give it more impact. Your customers wouldn’t be staying at a lodge owned by someone else. They’d be staying here, where we’re in control. And by ‘we,’ I mean all of us,” Mugi said.
“This would be a family business. We could change the name to Camp Jamba Walker,” Kesi added.
Mac swallowed hard. He didn’t miss what Kesi meant. He’d been around long enough to know that “Jamba” meant “hero.” Mac was no hero. He just did what he did because it felt right and because he wanted people—families with children and any individuals with a heart for nature—to appreciate what the Serengeti was truly about. He wanted them to experience its essence. He picked up a pebble and rubbed it between his fingers. Family business. Where would Tessa be? Back with Brice if he turned out to be innocent? Would Nick stay? That was a whole other set of logistics.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mugi said. “But she’s right. The name fits. I saw that you were different from the day we first met. You love and value what you do here the way the Masai value their cattle. Cattle mean more than money to them. They believe it’s their duty to watch over them. Their heart is in it. This is a chance for you to keep watch, too.”
“And if it doesn’t work? Then I’ve ruined your life here as well as your business.”
“Mac, it’s not l
ike Kesi and I didn’t accrue a good chunk of savings before we walked away from our careers, but even without touching those accounts, this will work. And you’ll have cash flow from not paying Hodari Lodge for office space and helicopter parking. We just have to stick together and make it happen,” Mugi said.
Mac was overwhelmed. This would mean staying here permanently. Camp Jamba would become home. Or maybe it always had been, in the important sense of the word.
Camp Jamba Walker.
“What do you mean a family business?” Nick interrupted.
Mac turned to Nick and ran the words through his head before he spoke. He glanced at Tessa. A faint frown lined her forehead and she didn’t take her eyes off him. She’d brought Nick here. Mac was ready to give it a shot.
“Nick, how would you like to stay here with me? As in move here. Live here.”
Nick’s eyes widened and he jumped up.
“What? I don’t get to go back home? I thought you guys changed your minds about that.”
“Remember what I said about the guests overhearing,” he reminded. “Now, your aunt Tessa has some things to deal with and I am trying to treat you like a mature kid who has a right to an opinion. Let’s just hash this out. Okay?”
Nick’s chest rose up and down rapidly and he picked up a stone and threw it into the bushes to his right.
“It would be great to have you here, Nick,” Kesi said.
“You like being here, don’t you?” Mugi put in.
“It’s fine.” Nick stared off into the darkness.
Mac knew he’d been enjoying himself a lot more than just “fine,” and would continue to if he lived here.
“It wouldn’t be forever, unless of course you wanted it to be,” Mac continued. “I asked Jack how they handled schooling. They’ve homeschooled, but now that Pippa and her friend Haki are getting older, they do some of what’s called ‘virtual’ schooling. There’s a lot of computer time involved,” he added, hoping that would sound appealing. Nick shrugged. At least he was listening. Maybe even interested.