by Wendy Owens
I swallow hard, quickly defending myself. “I’m more appalled that you would be all right that a father would marry off a child so young.”
“The way Westerners live their lives is always the right way Kenzie,” Aiden says, his tone condescending.
“She firecracker,” Jumanda continues to laugh.
“These people are exploited, their customs and traditions are spat upon, I don’t intend to be just another number in the legions of supposed civilized men trying to get them to conform to a modernized social standard of normal,” he unleashes, and it’s clear it’s a topic he’s passionate about.
“I’m sorry,” I squeak out, lowering my head, pursing my lips together. As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point.
His hawk-like glare lifts, his soft blue eyes revealing themselves fully to me. “I’m just messing with you. I think it’s great you’d stand up for something you think is wrong. Just be sure you understand the entire picture before you choose that kill you’re willing to die for.”
“What?” my eyes fix themselves on his face.
He sighs. “I find most people lack convictions.”
“Maybe you haven’t met enough people,” I suggest.
“I’ve met plenty, just not many of them impress me,” he interjects.
“Are you saying I impress you?” I ask.
He tilts his head before turning around and facing forward. “We’ll see. So Jumanda, how’s the water hunt been going?”
I sit in silence, listening to the two discussing a world that’s completely foreign to me. About people who fight against their government to survive and even more than that, fight to survive on their terms. It’s obvious Aiden is no stranger to their suffering. In fact, I can tell he’s been involved with them for some time. The hour-long ride seems to be over in a matter of minutes.
Chapter Nineteen
Ben
* * *
Sunlight cuts through the bedroom window, sharp shards of piercing light stinging my eyes. The world around me fades from black nothingness into a soft haziness of consciousness. My right arm and hand tingles as though a thousand tiny needles prick me repeatedly.
I look down and see the girl on my arm. The girl with the red hair and most beautiful curves I’ve ever spied on any creature.
“Good morning,” she breathes softly, shifting and burying her head deeper into my side. “What are you looking at?” she asks me.
“An angel.” I offer, my lips pressing against the top of her head.
“Oh God, you’re cheesy,” she moans rolling her eyes.
I laugh, looking down at her face.
“I missed you Kenzie,” I say, scared to take my eyes off of her. Afraid if I blink for too long she might disappear.
“Where did I go?” she inquires innocently.
“I thought I lost you,” I explain.
“You did,” she answers matter-of-factly.
“What? No, I can feel you. You’re here with me,” I insist.
She starts to laugh and rolls away from me. “I’m not here. I’ll never be with you again.”
“Stop saying that,” I plead. “You belong to me.”
“I never belonged with you, Ben.” The words pierce through me, jolting me into consciousness. My hand desperately pats the pillow next to me, and my heart sinks when I don’t find Kenzie there. Instead, I find nothing but empty, cold sheets.
Sitting up I run my fingers through my hair and grab my phone. No new messages. I open the text window and stare at the text I typed last night, but managed to refrain from sending to Kenzie.
You belong with me.
Those words once would have been the most romantic words she could have ever imagined. She would have swooned and told me how lucky she was to have such an incredible guy. But that’s not how things were going with Kenzie these days. No matter what I say, it always seems to be wrong.
My stomach flutters and I can’t help but be pissed at how choked up Kenzie gets me. I should be heading out with my boys, looking for a piece of ass to take my mind off her. After all, she ended things. There’s no guilt for me. Not after the way she treated me. So, why can’t I quit thinking about her? She’s probably screwing some other guy right now.
No. I remind myself that Kenzie isn’t like that. That’s exactly why I can’t quit thinking about her. Somehow I feel guilty, but I don’t even know what for. Had I told my dad I couldn’t do the fleet job the night she came back from England, if I were at the airport to pick her up, would any of this have happened?
This can’t just be about not picking her up at the airport. Kenzie can be crazy sometimes, but not that crazy. What it is about then? What probably frustrates me the most is I’m not sure I’ll ever know. She’s different. That much is for sure. Something in her has changed. Maybe it was the trip to England, but I think somewhere inside of me I know it started long before that.
Was Kenzie right? Did we never belong together? If I’m honest, I’ve always known she was too good for me. I’m a grown man and still sleeping on my parents’ pull out sofa in the basement. I stiffen, feeling the bottom drop out of my stomach. I can’t accept that she’s not the one for me. My life doesn’t make sense if she’s not in it. Damn her. Damn the way she makes me feel.
“Where the hell are you Kenzie?” I whisper, flopping back onto the uncomfortable coiled mattress in frustration. A job in Africa. The vague notion isn’t enough information to set my mind at ease.
My lip trembles and I am torn between wanting to shake Kenzie wildly for putting me through what she has and wishing more than anything that I knew she was safe and happy. Happy. How long had she been unhappy? How could I have not noticed? The war in my mind continues to rage.
What else have I been missing? Did she change her hair and I miss it? Did she start taking cream and sugar in her coffee and I miss that too? Who’s this woman I thought I knew? Has she changed or was it simply that I never saw her for more than I wanted her to be? I lie there, wondering how trustworthy my memories of Kenzie Crawford are.
Chapter Twenty
Aiden
* * *
Jumanda hands me the keys to the SUV. “Don’t wreck it, boss.”
I laugh, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”
I take a deep breath and turn my gaze to meet Kenzie’s from the back seat. She has been hanging on every word we’ve spoken during the drive. Something inside me stirs when our eyes lock onto one another. I tell myself to ignore the flips my stomach is doing. She’s attractive, that’s all it is. You’re a grown man, you can handle being near an attractive woman.
Clearing my throat, I say, “You need to conserve batteries on the equipment as much as you possibly can. There won’t be a chance to charge for at least seventy-two hours.”
She nods, and replies, “All the backups are fully charged so we should be good.”
“If you need any translation, Jumanda can help you, understand?” I wait for her affirmation before stepping out of the SUV.
Kenzie follows a moment later, assisting me in relocating the equipment to the cab of the SUV. I see her examining with a distressed glare the huts made of twined sticks and straw.
“We’ll be sleeping in the SUV; that’s why we need to move everything up to the cab,” I explain.
“Together?” The word slips from her mouth, her brows narrow. From her question I can tell the idea of sleeping next to me seems appalling.
I lean in, a bag in each hand. “No worries, princess; I think I can control myself.”
“I didn’t mean—” she starts.
“You’re welcome to sleep in one of the huts, if you prefer. Jumanda’s brother and wife are housing him, but I am sure we can find you somewhere else to sleep if it’s a problem.”
“The truck is fine,” she answers, her voice flat.
“Good, I’m glad it meets your standards,” I bark, quickly realizing I’ve overreacted. I do this a lot. A short temper is one of the things I inherited
from my father.
She hands me more of the equipment, her head lowered. “So Jumanda doesn’t live here?”
I shake my head, and decide the best way to deflect the attention from my poor behavior is to change the subject. “Sometimes. He also lives in the city. He works as a translator for his people whenever it’s needed. He is also here to help make sure there is communication between his people and the diamond miners who are infringing on their territory.”
“That’s terrible. Why doesn’t the government do something?”
Aiden laughs, “They are doing something. They’re looking the other way. See them there?” I ask pointing to a group of women and children gathered at the edge of the camp, squatting in the dust, stringing beads together.
“Yeah,” she replies looking in their direction.
I deliver a contemptuous sigh. “The Bushmen have lived in Southern Africa longer than anyone has likely lived on this planet, and now, this is what they’re reduced to. Making trinkets for tourists.”
She shrugs. “They seem to be enjoying themselves.”
“Enjoying the life you’re dealt doesn’t make it fair.”
“Life’s not fair.” Her matter-of-fact reply surprises me.
“Follow me,” I instruct, pushing the door shut. She hesitates, looking back at the cab of the SUV. “Don’t worry, they’re not going to steal anything.”
Sucking in a sharp breath of air she crosses her arms over her chest. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
“What?”
“I know you’re my boss and all, but you’re being a real ass,” she informs me with a stern voice.
I can’t stop myself from grinning. I’m not used to people calling me out for my behavior. To my dismay, I kind of like it. “You’re right.” I offer an apology. “You didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, so far you’ve done a great job. I’m sorry.”
“Good …” she hesitates, “and thank you.”
For some reason, I feel the need to further explain my behavior. “I had a call before we left that put me in a mood.”
“Well, how about you save your contempt for them?” She suggests firmly.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” I offer, certain this won’t be the last time I put my foot in my mouth.
She surprises me when she asks, “Everything okay?” Her voice is not defensive. Instead, it’s thick with tenderness and concern. I fight the gut reaction that she’s patronizing me, telling myself perhaps she is just concerned.
“Fine,” I nod, wanting to keep my personal life just that. Besides, most people could never understand the life I come from. The monster I’m constantly fighting that is my father. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of one of the elder healers. “Ti!ae,” I call out. He spots me and eagerly crosses across the sandy ground, tossing his arms around me. “Jumanda,” I shout motioning him over.
“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.
“Y
ou 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.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kenzie
* * *
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 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.