Embassy Wife

by Katie Crouch

  “Good Lord,” Persephone said.

  She didn’t like common exclamations, but she was now truly flummoxed. Standing beyond the gate was a stone castle—a small one, yes, but … a castle nonetheless. The drive was lined with leafy elms, and the grass was as thick and luscious as it might have been in England in the summer.

  “Are we still even in Africa?” Meg asked.

  “Yes,” Amanda said. “There’s an ostrich.”

  There were, in fact, two ostriches strutting about the lawn, as well as a few grazing warthogs, and, in a pen at the end of the garden, a fat, sleeping leopard.

  The three got out of the truck, looking around in a daze.

  “I feel like I’m in Oz,” Amanda said.

  Just then, an engine roared as a cream-colored safari vehicle whipped around from behind the house, kicking up dust and rocks. Say what you will about African travel, Persephone thought, there is nothing as glamorous as a safari vehicle roaring to a stop. Mila proved this true by swanning on the back, holding only the roll bar. She was resplendent in black jeans and a black T-shirt, her neck wrapped in a gauzy cheetah-print scarf. Persephone couldn’t help bristling. Her own intended camping outfit was to be set off by a cheetah-print shawl. Now she would have to reengineer.

  “Hey, Mila,” Amanda called out when the jeep roared to a stop in a cloud of golden dust.

  “Welcome,” Mila proclaimed. She banged twice on the roof of the cab, and a hulking blond man in his mid-sixties scrambled out. He had a kind, leathery face, with smile lines etched deeply into his skin.

  “Hallo!” he said in a booming voice, shaking hands with a crushing grip. “I em the ker-tak-err.” German. Persephone loved him immediately, the same way she instantly fell for yellow Labradors and turkey clubs with crisp bacon. He pulled a stool out of the back, and helped Mila elegantly dismount. “We verr looking for your rhino.”

  “Did you find him?” Meg asked.

  “No,” Mila said. “Though we did find excrement.”

  “What?” Meg asked.

  “Poop,” Amanda said.

  “Awesome!”

  “Hector,” Mila said to the driver. “We’ll have lunch in twenty minutes.”

  “Yah!” he called back, smiling.

  “It’s so nice to see that,” Persephone said idly.

  “See what?” Mila asked sharply.

  “Oh.” Persephone blushed. Of course Mila would call her out this way. “I mean, such a symbiotic relationship. Um … that a man like that can work for you with no … er … fuss.”

  “You mean a white man working for a Black woman?” Mila asked. Amanda looked at the sky, studiously pretending nothing was happening. “He came with the place. His family’s been here for generations. He’s a better worker than the lazy Damara who live around here.”

  “Mila!” Amanda said. “Aren’t you being racist?”

  “Of course,” Mila said. “I’m Ovambo. We’re as racist as you can get.”

  Just then Taimi ran out, linking arms with Meg and pulling her into the house-castle-palace.

  “Show me the tower!” Persephone heard Meg squeal.

  “Come, I’ll show you around,” Mila said.

  Persephone knew she was supposed to like Mila now, but she couldn’t help but notice this was an order, not a request. She and Amanda dutifully followed their hostess through the property as she showed them the parlor and drawing room, furnished with antiques from Bavaria, the kitchen with a brick oven the perfect size for cooking children, the whitewashed bedrooms, and the veranda, artfully studded with oryx skulls and overlooking a broad, reed-lined watering hole.

  Lunch was served outside on the porch by an ancient-looking German woman named Heidi who staggered out under plate after plate of salami, roast pork, cabbage, and various salads swimming in mayonnaise. All was washed down by steins of ice-cold beer or glasses of cool Riesling, as the guests preferred.

  Mila sat at the head of the table, and midway through the soup course a tall man joined them and introduced himself as Josephat. Persephone wasn’t often affected by good-looking men—Adam himself was a bit of a knockout, which only added to her problems. But she had to admit it: Josephat was, well, stunning. And when he looked at her with that shock of a white porcelain smile, her head started swimming. Hoping her cheeks weren’t turning splotchy, she took another large sip of wine.

  “So you ladies are after our rhino,” he said.

  “Only in a good way,” Persephone said, putting down her fork. “Do you think we’ll find him?”

  “If you do, don’t get too close,” Josephat said sternly, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “He’s a mean one.”

  Persephone frowned. She hadn’t considered the possibility that the rhino she was trying to help might not actually like her.

  “Have you had trouble with poachers before?” Amanda asked.

  “Just local people looking for meat.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They leave the trophies behind. The heads. And we found bones at the local settlement.”

  Persephone was beginning to feel sleepy. She picked through her plate of mayonnaise, thinking of something to say. “Well. This is a fabulous farm. It must be quite expensive, though—to run, I mean. It’s nice that you have the money.”

  “Why would you say that?” Josephat asked sharply.

  She looked up to find Mila’s husband staring at her most unkindly.

  “Oh, sorry. Just … all the people, I was thinking. And the vehicles. I grew up on a farm like this in America, you see. Well, no rhinos, of course!” She flashed her most charming grin, but, disconcertingly, Mila’s husband seemed immune. “Most people with big farms seem to run guesthouses. I just—well, I admire you for keeping it all up.”

  “It’s actually not so expensive,” Mila said. “And perhaps one day we’ll open a lodge.”

  “Yes,” Josephat said. “Certainly a possibility.” Persephone couldn’t be certain, but it seemed that Josephat was shooting his wife a nasty look. He pushed his chair back.

  “Well, ladies. I’m so sorry—but, alas, I have to attend to some business. Good luck, then, with the rhino. And let us know if you need anything.”

  Persephone had one more glass of wine and then asked Mila if they might lie beside the pool before they left.

  “Of course,” Mila said. “It’s still early.”

  Persephone tripped down the lawn to a cushioned pool chair. Farm was pushing it, wasn’t it? This was more of a resort. Within minutes she was lulled into a relaxation so deep she was dreaming. Time poured by. When she woke up, it felt as if there was a warm hand wrapped around her ankle. She rubbed her eyes, looking around. What was happening? Oh right. She was sleeping off a wine headache in the middle of the veld at a former Nazi stronghold, now owned by stupendously wealthy Ovambos. Of course.

  But wait. There was a hand on her ankle.

  “Adam!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mila and I are working on our transportation project, remember?” he said, grinning. “I was in Omaruru with the Big A., because there’s some art center we’re thinking of helping out. A new way to look good after this whole presidential shithole thing. And anyway, since it’s practically around the corner, I dropped by.”

  Persephone’s ears pricked. This did not sound kosher.

  “You dropped by? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Mila gave me the farm phone.”

  “And the GPS location,” she said, leaning closer. “Right?”

  “Well, yes.” He cocked his head as if confused.

  Nice try, Persephone thought. “So you used one of those secret tools you have to track us?” She tipped her head down, looking into her husband’s eyes. Truly, she felt like a cat with a sparrow in its mouth. “A … secret gadget of some sort?”

  Adam patted her arm a tad condescendingly, as if she were Lucy having one of her fits. “Perse. Darling. What are you talking about?”

&nb
sp; Persephone looked around. No one was anywhere near them. And since her own house was most likely bugged, she felt she might as well bring it up now. “I know, Adam.”

  For once, her husband looked appropriately alarmed. He withdrew his hand from her leg. “You know what?”

  “I know that you’re the CIA plant,” she whispered.

  He blinked, then blinked again. “Excuse me?”

  “I figured it out.”

  “Um, sweetness…”

  “Don’t deny it, okay? Just accept that I’m smart.”

  “I know you’re smart. But why the hell do you think—”

  “Come on. You’re gone all the time on those mysterious trips. You’re always on the phone where I can’t hear you. I mean, what else could it be?”

  “Well…”

  “And, frankly, you haven’t been doing your actual job at the embassy very well. If at all. So … if you’re not the CIA plant, then you’re just a lazy State Department diplomat, coasting on your looks. Or you’re having some big affair, right out in the open. And I know you’d never do that.”

  Adam paused, looking at her. Then he flashed it. The killer smile. No wonder he got away with spying right under everyone’s nose. “You are a wonder,” Adam said, rubbing her leg. “You know what? My God. I’d like to fuck you right now.”

  “Ugh. Adam. Language.”

  “So you’ve figured me out,” he said. “You sly little minx. Go ahead, then. Shoot. What do you want to ask me?”

  “If this were that movie True Lies, and I were Jamie Lee Curtis, I’d hit you right now.”

  “Never saw it. And you’re much cuter than she is.”

  “So…” She leaned back triumphantly. “How long has this been going on?”

  Adam looked at his nails, giving his best handsome scowl. He practiced it. Persephone knew, because she saw him do it every morning in the mirror. “About … four months?”

  “And have you had to use a gun on anyone?”

  “Can’t tell you. Classified.”

  “Oh, you devil!” she said, swatting his arm. “Well, is it fun, being in the CIA? It seems fun.”

  “Mostly it’s just gathering information. I’m not exactly in Kabul. Now, you’re not going to tell your girlfriends, are you?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “I would never jeopardize your mission.”

  “Good,” he said. He leaned in a bit.

  “So why are you here?” she asked breathlessly. “To investigate the Shilongos?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You don’t think it’s suspicious they basically own a Safari Hilton on a government salary?”

  “Nah, babe. No one as hot as Mila could be corrupt.”

  “Oh?” Persephone said, annoyed. “Is that a CIA rule?”

  “I’m really just here upon invitation. Besides, who says no to a free private game drive?”

  Persephone sighed. This part did make sense. Adam was nuts about game drives.

  “Can I help? With the intelligence part? Because I think Mr. Shilongo is a bit shady.”

  “No, darling. You enjoy yourself. Though easy on the sauce, eh, cupcake? Let’s abstain for the rest of the day, shall we?”

  We shall not, Persephone thought, but flashed him a smile in the name of patriotism.

  “Well. The game drive is about to start, I think. Should we go?”

  Persephone nodded, taking Adam’s offered hand and standing up. She’d slept longer than intended. By the time they entered the parlor of the farmhouse, it was full of people, all khakied up and ready. Spotting Josephat Shilongo in the corner, casting positively livid looks at his wife, Persephone wondered if her instincts might actually be right about him being not exactly completely aboveboard.

  “Are you not coming along, then, Josephat?” Persephone asked. She was trying for a purring voice, but it came out all scratchy, as if she had sand in her throat.

  “I don’t believe there is room now,” he said, glaring at Adam. “Because of the surprise guest. Is there, Mila?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mila replied. She glided over to Adam and put her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Adam. He’s just jealous of you. And I’m just so glad you made it all the way here to see our farm.”

  They made their way out to the Land Rover. After two years in Namibia and multiple jaunts to neighboring game parks in Zambia, Botswana, and South Africa, Persephone was no stranger to game drives. At first they had been thrilling. The open-air vehicles, the proximity to hippos and lions and giraffes!

  Sadly, though, American State Department employees didn’t always have good manners, as she did. Like the time in Erindi when Kayla had briskly informed their driver that if she didn’t see at least one lion, he wasn’t getting a tip. Or the time in Etosha, when Shoshana was so drunk on Erongo wine she fell off the truck when they stopped to look at wildebeests, effectively ending the safari.

  As an Embassy Wife, Persephone always concentrated on looking interested at every show of fauna, be it leopard, meerkat, or ant. But she had to admit, it wasn’t easy: after a while, well, a giraffe was just a giraffe. The twins didn’t even look up from their iPads anymore unless it was to witness a predator making a live kill.

  And finally—proud as she was of Adam’s investigations!—she had to admit she enjoyed game drives a whole lot more when her husband wasn’t along. His eyes were remarkably keen, which was wonderful, except for the fact that he inevitably made the driver stop for every single show of wildlife, even if they had already seen the species on that very drive ten times already. And today, for some reason, he had brought a camera the size of a NASA telescope.

  “Stop!” he commanded before they were even beyond the shadow of the house. “Giraffe at eleven o’clock. Little closer, please? A little closer? All right. Look at the color of the spots, Persephone,” he instructed. “At least fifty years old, I’d say.”

  “Giraffes live at most twenty-eight years,” Hector said from the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t think so, friend. Okay. Got the shot. Go. Wait—no, stop! Zebra, four o’clock. Back it up, please? Back it up?”

  Amanda, who was free to have a G and T, sipped from her silver thermos, shooting Persephone amused looks. “I had no idea Adam was such a wildlife enthusiast,” she said.

  “Oh yes,” Persephone answered. “Isn’t it wonderful.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not getting very far,” Meg said. It had been an hour now, and the castle was still visible.

  “Meg,” Amanda warned.

  “Excuse me, Miss Evans, but I have to agree,” Taimi said. “I do not wish to offend Mr. Wilder. Nevertheless, if your goal is to find the rhinoceros, we may want to go a bit faster. He never stays near our house.”

  “Hush, Taimi,” Mila said. But Persephone could see that she, too, was getting impatient.

  “Darling,” Persephone said, “I really think we must press on.”

  “One more shot.” Adam stood, clicking at the landscape. “All right. Done.”

  Mila rapped on the roof of the truck, and Hector took off down a road so narrow, it was little more than a walking path. The girls screamed with excitement as they were thrown to the ceiling with each bounce and rock of the chassis. Finally, after what seemed like hours (but by her silver watch was only forty minutes), Hector came screeching to a stop. He turned off the vehicle; the shutting down of the perversely loud engine was so violent, the very newfound silence ricocheted throughout the trees. In response, the noises of the African afternoon—birds, geckos, snakes, beetles—seemed to swell.

  Hector turned to them and put his finger to his cracked lips, then pointed. There, almost completely camouflaged by a crop of gray boulders, was a huge rhino, its massive muscles rippling with the simple act of swaying its block of a head.

  “It’s a male,” Hector whispered. “Shhhh. Very important. Be totally silent.”

  “Can he see my zebra print?”

  “Shhhhhh.”

  P
ersephone had seen a rhino before, but never this close up. Its haunches were pure muscle. The horn was terrifying and magnificent, sharp enough to gore any huge predator that came its way. What she wasn’t prepared for were its eyes, which were huge, soft, and kind. He reared his head and looked right at her. She could have sworn it. He blinked, slowly, and Persephone felt an odd, long-forgotten twinge.

  It’s the damnedest thing, she imagined saying to her sister over FaceTime. I fell in love with a rhinoceros, Delia. I had to leave Adam, naturally. It was literally the call of the wild!

  Everyone in the jeep sat frozen, even the children. And then, after a few precious seconds, out of the corner of her eye Persephone sensed something horrible happening. It was her husband. He held up his enormous camera, positioned it for the shot … and clicked.

  The reaction was so instantaneous, Persephone later wondered if the rhino hadn’t started running before Adam even took the picture. Maybe the animal hadn’t been looking at her. Because the next thing they knew, the animal was moving as fast as a train. And he was coming, all five thousand pounds of him, straight toward their jeep.

  / 18 /

  Amanda was not a sentimental person. She had never particularly liked any babies but her own, and she was in no way an animal lover. Pets were, in her eyes, a nuisance. Animals had their rights, of course, but she preferred getting close to them in the zoo.

  But then, she had never been in the path of a rhinoceros, running toward her at thirty miles an hour. The beast was so large and forceful, its drive moved the branches on the trees near its path. The ground shook. The manufactured wind sounded of sails batting above a churning sea.

  The first thing Amanda did was sit on Meg. The second was to turn her entire body toward the incoming animal. Hector threw the jeep into reverse, so that by the time the rhino managed to hit the vehicle with its shoulder, they were already moving at full speed. The car careened for a moment onto two wheels, and, as if the delayed fear had suddenly caught up with them, Meg, Taimi, and Persephone started to scream.

  “Hold!” Hector shouted as the truck righted itself, and, jamming the gearshift out of reverse, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator and drove them back the way they’d come.