put that away with the other broken pieces of my life and dared not dwell too much on it.
I looked up to see she had tears in her eyes. My heart was still as vulnerable as any other; I knew they were tears of concern, but I waited. She asked if this was a business trip or just a vacation. I told her it was neither. She chose her words very carefully I think, and asked if I was coming back at all.
I said, “I hope so. From what I read on the State Department site, I guess I should be worried about getting off the plane. But, I’ve been vaccinated, years ago, against every disease possible and some new ones lately, so I should be all right. We’re just going to see how we can help with the rescue of baby elephants and rhinos resulting from the poaching slaughter going on in some countries. I’ve decided the only way to find out what’s really going on or to eventually assist, is to find the real down and dirty story.” I looked at her without further comment.
She said, “Who are the ‘We’?”
“Gimp, Lidia, his girlfriend and me.”
With her arms folded defensively in front and trying extremely hard to gulp back tears, she hiccupped, “Were you … asking me … to go with you a couple of weeks ago?”
“I wasn’t as prepared or assured as I am now, but yes I was. Maybe I didn’t handle it right.”
“You handled it right! I’m an asshole; just an asshole!” With that, she turned and walked quickly to the spare bedroom where she had been sleeping lately and slammed the door behind her. I approached the door, but it had been slammed with such ferocity that I decided to let it lie. She didn’t say she was sorry. She held that from me. Sometimes love comes to you, sometimes it doesn’t. If it comes to you with an open heart, it’s usually real.
10
We landed at Cape Town International in the early morning, were disgorged into a beautiful orange sunrise and breathed the free air of Africa for the first time. For me, there was almost a sense of liberty in the air. Although I had been in many countries during my life, I had never set foot on African soil officially or unofficially. The same was said for Lidia and Gimp. After a smooth customs inspection, we checked into a nice hotel and rested for two days, or at least I did. They were young you know. I kept checking my cell; no calls.
Finally beginning what would be an epic trek, we rented an SUV and visited an elephant sanctuary in Plattenberg Bay, then spent a few days close to the Hartbeespoort Dam site and then on to Hazyview in the Lowvelt. None had many elephants, but provided valuable sites for transitioning elephants to the wild, plus they had great educational opportunities for the population. We found South Africa had not historically been an elephant poaching ground and was low on the quantities list for illegal ivory trade seizures. However, it’s a large open country; difficult to guard and monitor and has a large percentage of the world’s rhino population. Some poaching did occur and illegal traffic through the country still occurs, without doubt. The best thing about starting with South Africa was the warning information about the slaughter to the north, which only minimally prepared us for the genuine horror.
Michaele Okeke had been working alternatively as a park ranger’s assistant and bounty hunter in Africa for over twenty years. He was a no-nonsense guy, with a quick wit and quicker white smile, who we met at the Lowvelt site. He was considerably interested in where we came from, what we were doing in Africa and was concerned why Gimp was restricted to a wheel chair. Like most men, he was completely taken with Lidia and wondered out loud to Gimp why we were planning to tour Tanzania and Kenya by land with such a beautiful, small lady. Gimp informed him that Lidia could handle herself. Michaele smiled doubtfully and just nodded his head.
Approving of what I thought I recognized in Okeke, I asked him how attached he was to the elephant reserve at Hazyview. He inferred; not very. I arranged to have Mr. Okeke drive our vehicle into Mozambique, Tanzania and Kenya if he and we could take the beating. He assured us the roads were fine to good and we allowed him to heap our vehicle with supplies in case we couldn’t make hotels each evening. He arranged for a nice hotel in Pretoria, where we met a friend of his who he said possessed intimate knowledge of illegal ivory movement in Africa. Michaele’s friend tried to convince us to take an airplane to Tanzania or Kenya and not to suffer the roads. He pleaded with Gimp not to take Lidia over the roads because she might lose her precious baby.
This came from a guy we had just met and in whom I initially sensed a guarded nature. I saw Gimp steel-up and I thought to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. However, Lidia took over, gave Mr. Owusu a look that could turn a normal person to stone, while holding up her hand in a motion for him to desist. She was not happy with Michaele’s buddy and one could almost feel it in the air. She bent over and whispered something to Charley Lindell. They exchanged close, searching looks and I knew we would be flying to Kenya; all “six” of us.
On the flight to Nairobi, Lidia got a bit air sick. It wasn’t due to the flight, it was actually something she ate, we guessed. One of the stewardesses took her under wing and monitored her in the bathroom for more than half way to Nairobi. As one would guess, we spent one day at a hospital emergency room and another in a nice, cool hotel called The Crowne Plaza. The following day, Gimp put Lidia on a plane back to the States. They both seemed content with her leaving, but Lidia cried and the little girl looked as if she would be lost without Gimp.
That evening, very late or very early, I received a call from an old friend of mine called Alfredo Alvarez. I pretended to be hazy with regard to our previous association. Fredo said, “Cut the shit Daiwee. Okay, I apologize. Are you guys’ lonesome? Have you got tired of just Gimp and Lidia yet?”
I briefed him on Lidia and he got sort of quiet after a terse statement that he was happy for them, and so on. I called him on it and he was quiet for a few seconds, then cleared his throat.
“You know that you and I are never going to have that joy again don’t you Daiwee? I mean, shit … we could have kids, but we probably wouldn’t see them grow up and have their own kids and stuff. Do you regret not having kids? I have one, but didn’t get to see him in school and playing ball and seeing his girlfriend and stuff. Hell, he might even have kids by now and I don’t even know.”
“Damn, I didn’t know you had a son Fredo. How old is he? Don’t you ever get to see him or hear from him?”
“Naw, I officially gave up my rights to him and I only saw him a couple of times before he was eighteen. He should be thirty three now. He let me know the last time I saw him that he loved his step dad, and his mother let me know in no uncertain terms I was not part of his life. That’s okay though. I should have been there all along. Anyway, do you ever regret not having kids?”
“Yes … yes I do. I saw so much shit in Nam that I became scared of having a family, you know. I saw orphans up the wazoo everywhere I went; I don’t know … it gave me pause. Plus, I never found a woman who I could trust; a couple I fell in love with, but found I couldn’t trust ‘em later. I was gone too much with my first love; the Army.”
I heard Fredo clear his throat again. I also noticed he dispensed with the Chicano talk as well. Finally he said, “Well, all I called for is to see if you needed me yet.”
“Hell yes we need you. I’m getting tired of pushing Gimp’s wheels.”
“Oh, bullshit Daiwee; where are you guys anyway? Are you still around South Africa?”
“No, we’re in the Crowne Plaza hotel in Nairobi, Kenya. It’s nice. If you’re on the way, I’ll get us a suite. Have either of our other cronies called you?”
“No, I’m gonna call em though. Samantha called me about three nights ago.”
“What; Sam called … for what?”
“She’s lonesome for you Daiwee. She just called to see if I heard from you or Gimp. I can call her if you want and tell her where you are.”
“Thanks Fredo; no …