by Rula Sinara
“Um, we sort of—” Fern jolted when Ivy kicked her under the table.
Pippa slapped the book shut and stood.
“I know what you did. I’m totally on to you two.”
“You are?”
“Yep. I can see that you sort-of-never-really did your reading yesterday, right? Which is why you have nothing to write about.”
The girls’ shoulders relaxed.
“That’s right. I mean, we were reading, but didn’t finish,” Ivy said.
“You weren’t really reading. Were you?” Pippa asked. She turned to the one in the purple headband. “Tell the truth, Ivy. Fern probably has better grades and does all of your essays for you, right?”
“That’s not true! My grades are just as good as hers,” the real Ivy to her left immediately countered, then froze.
“I thought so. How about wearing your own headbands?”
The girls reluctantly traded all purple and green accessories.
“How’d you know?”
“I didn’t. Not for certain, at least. Thanks for the admission, though. Care to admit to not reading, too?”
Ivy made a face.
“Is that how it’s going to be?”
“No—actually...”
“Shut up, Fern,” Ivy said.
“Hey, you two. No need for that. I just want to hear if you did or didn’t read the history book. Because if you didn’t, I have an idea that’ll give you something to write about, and it involves a whole lot more adventure than sitting around here,” Pippa said.
That got Ivy’s attention.
“But Dad said to stick to the lodge.” As if Ivy cared about rules. A lion’s roar startled the twins.
“Don’t worry. It’s not close by.” She stood and tucked her chair in. “What your father said was that I had to keep an eye on you and help you get your lessons done. We’ll be doing that. I mean, really, now. Don’t you two ever have fun?”
* * *
DAX WIPED THE sweat from his forehead and adjusted his sunglasses and hard hat. The afternoon sun beat down on the back of his neck.
Meeting with Ron again that morning had gone smoothly enough. Unexpectedly, he’d brought a younger engineer along with him—Steven—and assigned him to help out with Dax’s team. He also produced the general timetable for fracking activity in the adjacent field that was getting pumped. Dax had asked for the information yesterday, so that he could make out any interference activity in his readings. So now as he had a team of three of his own men—Syd, Lee and Alberto—plus two drivers, a cook and Steven...all provided by Erebus. Right now, Lee was in the trailer recording station checking all of their computer systems and programs. Syd and Alberto were helping Dax lay out geophones in straight lines and at even intervals, pressing their spiked ends into the dry soil like small lawn sprinklers, only without the sprinkler mechanism. He surveyed their work every thirty feet or so to make sure the grid line were getting laid evenly. Good 3D mapping and data depended, in part, on their geophone grid.
Steven carried over the cables Dax requested so that he could begin connecting the geophone receivers.
They’d be doing this for days. And they had to get the grid set up before they could bring in the Vibroseis trucks to send acoustic waves below the earth so they could start receiving data on subterranean structures based on those sound waves hitting them. That’s when the real work would begin for Dax—analyzing data via computer programs and mapping out what sat deep beneath their feet.
Seeing all those readouts and fine lines kicked his pulse up. He got to see things the average person didn’t...structures and formations thousands of feet down. A different kind of wilderness or undiscovered frontier...far from human touch, yet not impervious to human impact. Much like the Serengeti.
He stretched his back and looked westward. A chorus of wildlife calls echoed through the area as if protesting man’s invasion. They were answered with the sound of a truck engine roaring to life.
He was selling his soul, all right.
Before Sandy died, his time in the field had been invigorating. Seeing activity on the seismograph readings had fueled him to do more. To chase what his colleagues claimed was beyond his reach—to come up with a way to accurately predict the big ones. A way to warn people when an earthquake was about to strike.
And now, here he was in the sweltering heat, at the beck and call of someone else. Gathering data that paid the bills, but betrayed his conscience. He was betraying his friend Josh and all the others who had died with him.
He paused and looked at the dappled landscape. A herd of gazelle grazed in the distance, and the cry of a hawk pierced through the air as its shadow swept over him.
It was no secret that Sandy had been a vocal environmental activist in her college days. It was how they had met. She was spearheading a relief fund-raiser for earthquake victims, and after the tsunami, he’d needed to do something more than just wallow in grief. She had pulled him through. She had even continued to volunteer for nonprofits before getting pregnant with the twins. And how had he repaid her? By leaving her to take on the bulk of raising two preemies and eventually toddlers so that he could figure out how to save them all in the future, rather than embracing them in the present.
What would she think of him now?
If she was looking down on him, she’d know he was doing what he had to do. She’d know he was still paying off the medical bills from their premature twins and those that had piled up during her cancer treatments. That he was doing what he had to do to give the girls a more stable life and save for simultaneous college tuitions in the future. He was doing what Sandy had wished for—for him to stop chasing after what had become an obsession. For him to just be a “normal” husband and father who came home every night to spend it with his wife and kids.
Well, maybe lugging the girls to off-the-grid locations wasn’t what the average dad did, but he was never far from them. He came home to them every night. He could only hope she knew that and that it somehow comforted her.
He swallowed but his throat stuck. He trudged over to his jeep and pulled out his thermos and took a long drink. Steven glanced over at him, and Dax held up the canteen to signal that everyone should take a water break, too.
“You guys are efficient,” Steven said, taking a swig from his own canteen.
“We know our stuff. It’s why we’re here,” Dax said. There was something about the guy he didn’t like. “I also have to make it back to the lodge in time for my nanny to go home tonight.”
Pippa wasn’t around to hear him call her a nanny, and he wasn’t about to mention her by name. If as many folks knew her and her family in these parts as she claimed, it would be better for him not to complicate things with the people he answered to at Erebus. How long of a drive did Pippa say she had to get home before dark?
“Oh, yeah. I heard you brought kids along. Most of the guys out here are either single or have their families living in Nairobi. They go see them on weekends. Except those whose families aren’t in Kenya. It’s easier that way, and when the family is far away, the site workers never have a problem with working overtime.”
Had Ron Swale fed Steven that line? Dax knew all about working overtime. It wasn’t happening anymore.
Long, geometric shadows stretched from his equipment to where they stood, as the sun dipped a couple of degrees lower.
“I do have kids here and not staying on-site is what works for me. We’ll still have all the mapping done on schedule.”
“I get it. Sort of. I’m not married nor do I plan to be. I’ve gotta hand it to you, juggling it all.”
“Yeah.” Dax didn’t want to talk anymore. Working in silence suited him just fine. Especially around guys who did not get it. “I have it down to a science.”
* * *
PIPPA WATCHED AS Ivy and Fern joined the circle. He
sitant at first, but seemingly enthralled by the Maasai girls’ dress and, particularly, their earrings. Etiana handed each twin a beaded bracelet, and Ivy’s face beamed.
“Thank you so much. You made this yourself?”
“Yes. I made one for Pippa once, too, because she taught me to read. She’s a special friend and now I have two more special friends.” She smiled at Ivy and Fern.
“Thank you, as well,” Fern said, slipping on the bracelet. “What’s your favorite book?”
“Oh, whichever one Pippa gives me to read. Each one is a different experience. A journey I can’t take except in a book. I wished to give you a special gift to remember me by with those bracelets, but the most precious gift I have ever gotten is a book...and learning to read it. We have no bookstores here. If it weren’t for Pippa...” She glanced up at Pippa and pressed her hand to her heart in gratitude. Ivy and Fern looked at each other, but instead of conspiracy or mischief on their faces, there was shame.
“Someday you’ll write your own book,” Pippa told Etiana.
“And you can bet that we’ll buy copies,” Fern said.
“And we’ll have to find you so that you can sign them for us,” Ivy added.
Etiana’s face wasn’t the only thing that lit up. Pippa felt her heart do somersaults. They were getting it. They were finally understanding.
“Me? Write a book?”
“Well, if you want to. You can do anything you set your mind to. Doctor, lawyer, teacher, filmmaker or even an astronaut. The world is your oyster,” Pippa said, walking over and sitting next to them. “Same goes for you, Ivy and Fern. And all the children here.”
Ivy hesitated, then reached into her backpack and unfolded a piece of paper. The page.
“We’re really sorry. It was a stupid thing to do, but we weren’t thinking at the time. We took this page out of your book, hoping you’d be irritated enough to leave us be—”
“Yeah, like the others did,” Fern added, referring to their other nannies. Had they wanted all their nannies out of the way? Pippa could come up with only one reason why they’d want that—to force their dad to spend more time with them. It was the only thing that made sense, other than a fear of Dax replacing their mother. Or maybe he didn’t talk to them about her enough. Or maybe they were clinging to their dad because they were afraid of losing him, too.
“But messing up your book was a bad thing to do. I wanted to tell you what we’d done before you got to the page and found it missing.”
Fern nodded in agreement. Etiana smiled sympathetically.
“Girls, I reached that page long ago. I’m not the kind of woman who gives up. Especially not on those she cares about.”
Their foreheads crinkled and lips parted.
“You knew?”
Pippa nodded.
“And you didn’t quit?” Fern asked.
“Or tell Dad on us?” Ivy added.
Pippa shook her head.
“She has what we say in Swahili is moyo mwema, a good heart.” Etiana said.
Ivy frowned and didn’t say anything else.
“The page can be taped in. Just don’t ever destroy a book again. And maybe you’ll enjoy reading it after I’m done. Unless you already read the missing page and know how it all turns out.” She turned to Etiana. “The girls and I have to head back before I get in trouble for taking them too far away from the lodge.”
“We won’t let Dad get mad at you,” Fern said.
“Yeah, we’ve got your back,” Ivy said, but something in her eyes made Pippa wonder if the twins weren’t the type to give up, either.
“So long as you don’t drop anything like a spider down my shirt,” Pippa warned.
“We’d never do something so awful,” Fern said, looping her arm in Ivy’s and heading to the jeep. They waved back at the other children who’d made up the circle.
“I like them,” Etiana said.
“Maybe I’ll bring them to visit again,” Pippa said, marching after them. She waved again from the jeep and headed for Tabara.
“We heard you tell Dad about the zebras and lions. Will we get to see any?”
“Eventually, I’m sure. Just keep your eyes peeled. Can’t guarantee we’ll pass them today. You two still have those papers to finish.”
“I was hoping you forgot,” Ivy said, yelling over the engine noise. Fern held tight to the door frame.
“I never forget. I have the memory of an elephant.”
She stepped on the gas, and the girls squealed as she hit a rut in the dirt. Maybe if they got their adrenaline kick on the ride, they’d be less likely to pull stunts at the lodge.
They made it back in plenty of time and everything on the list was done. Dax, however, was still not home.
“You don’t think he got lost, do you?” Fern nibbled at her thumbnail as she held out a piece of tape for Ivy with her other hand.
“No, I’m sure his driver knows his way around. He probably got caught up in work.” Pippa didn’t need to check her watch to know she’d never make it to Busara before dark at this point. And he’d been mad at her for being late this morning?
At least she’d only been late by a few minutes. Not almost an hour. And her being late didn’t keep him from heading to work, whereas she was going to be stuck at Tabara for the night.
She wasn’t afraid to make the drive after dark, but she had enough experience and common sense to know that making the drive alone in the dark wasn’t worth the risk. Nocturnal predators...and even illegal poachers...came out of the shadows at night. It was one of those things she would have done two years ago, worrying her family to death in the process, but she wasn’t the same person anymore.
“Or maybe caught up at an elephant crossing,” Ivy joked, as she held Pippa’s book page in place and took the tape from her sister. Pippa chuckled.
“Or that.”
The door to the bungalow finally swung open and Dax shuffled in, easing his bag through the doorway and setting it down. He looked sun kissed and utterly wiped out. The girls ran over and gave him a hug. He kissed each one on the top of her head and squeezed his arms around them.
“Hey, you two. Sorry I’m late.”
“We thought you’d been eaten by lions,” Ivy said.
“Seriously?”
“No.” She and Fern giggled and went back to mending the book. They may have teased him, but Pippa could see there had been a tension in their faces that was now dissipating.
“I’m sorry,” Dax said to Pippa. He had the decency to appear ashamed after giving her the third degree this morning about being on time.
“So, now you understand sticking to the minute around here is harder than it seems,” Pippa quipped.
“Only, my delays were caused entirely by humans, and had nothing to do with zebras and lions. I’ll pay you for the extra hours, of course.”
“I have no doubt you’ll keep track of it all. I do have a schedule to stick to, though. I can’t have you running late all the time,” she said, hoping he caught the jab. She fetched her backpack from next to the desk.
He looked up at the ceiling and put his hands on his hips.
“It’s dark out.”
“I can see that.”
“I realize this is my fault and that you live in this area and know it like the back of your hand, but isn’t driving a couple of hours to get home too dangerous right now?”
“Yes. It is. Which is why I’ll be reading in the lounge area.”
He walked over to where Ivy and Fern were smoothing out the crumpled page they’d taped up. They quickly shut the book and stood in front of it.
“What happened to the book?” Dax asked. His eyes narrowed, and the twins’ got wider.
“I had a mishap with it and Ivy and Fern kindly offered to help me fix it. You have great kids. Thank you, girls,” Pippa sa
id, taking the book from them. Their chests sank and shoulders relaxed as they glanced at each other.
“Oh. That was nice of you to fix the book.” He sounded as relieved as they looked.
“I’ll see you all in the morning,” Pippa said.
“Wait. You’re planning to read in the lounge all night?”
“Yes.” Pippa shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll fall asleep, but I doubt anyone will mind too much. Just don’t do this to me every night.”
“Tell her she can stay with us tonight, Dad,” Fern said.
“You can stay with us,” Dax said, almost too quickly.
Pippa stared at them and blinked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You need to spend time with Ivy and Fern, and it has been a long day. I’m sure everyone’s exhausted.”
“I’m sure you are, too,” Dax said. “And sleeping on a chair in the lounge isn’t right. I can’t have you do that because I made you late.”
She’d be in a chair either way. The bungalow-style suite had one separate bedroom with its own bath—the room the twins were sharing...and it had only two twin beds in it. The other bed was in this main room, with only a small sitting area to the side and a separate small half bath. Staying in the same room, even if it was in a chair, with Dax was not going to happen.
“But there aren’t enough beds, so I guess she’ll have to,” Ivy said.
They all looked at her. Someone was protective of time with her dad. At least Ivy was on the same wavelength as Pippa. She slung her backpack onto her shoulder, ready to leave.
“Ivy, there’s always enough room when it’s needed.” Dax gave her a pointed look, and the girl didn’t answer back. He turned to Pippa. “You can stay in the twins’ room with them. You’ll have more privacy that way. I can move this mattress in there for you.”
She knew he meant privacy with respect to him. She appreciated that, though she wasn’t sure the girls wanted to spend the night with her after she’d been looking over their shoulders the whole day.
On the other hand, a lot of people passed through the lodge at night, and she wasn’t familiar with many of the employees. Sleeping here as opposed to out in the common area would be safer. She’d have to radio Busara to let everyone know not to worry or to expect her.