toward a destination far off in the distance.
“Some go to work. Some to sell goods in town. They start very early.”
“Amazing. Even on Sunday?” Sara said, almost to herself.
“Every day.”
When she returned her attention to the inside of the vehicle, Zak was watching her with the amused expression one might give an inquisitive youngster. “We’re almost to the village.”
Within minutes they arrived at the top of a small flat hill overlooking the savannah for miles on either side. Branches of thorn bushes provided a border that encircled several mud huts measuring about five feet tall. A group of men, all adorned with brightly colored wraps and beads, gathered outside the border under an acacia tree that provided the only sliver of shade. Small children chased each other inside the makeshift fence while women sat in the shadows of their huts engrossed in some type of manual activity. Sara was surprised about the cultural detour since Zak had been so anxious to get to their destination.
“We are home,” Ben announced as he parked the jeep and waved his arms proudly toward the meager surroundings. “ Karibu. Welcome.”
Sara tried to contain her shock and appear gracious and appreciative as she exited the vehicle. Apparently she failed miserably.
“Close your mouth, Ms. Ambrosini,” Zak whispered from behind her. “Breathe and don’t swat at anything larger than you are.”
She grabbed Zak’s arm and pulled her closer, keeping her voice low. “Where will we sleep?”
“Ben has offered us one of his huts. That’s an honor.”
“ One of his huts?”
“Yes, he has three, one for each wife.”
“Surely there’s a hotel or rooming house nearby. I’d hate to inconvenience anyone.” Sara had been camping many times and was quite capable of adapting to most things, but this setup gave new meaning to the term “roughing it.”
Zak seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. “I’m afraid not. Besides, it’s an insult to refuse his invitation.”
“Ebony!” a female screamed. Sara searched for the source and saw a tall, mocha-skinned woman running toward Zak with her arms spread wide. The red garment draped around her body barely covered her ample breasts that nearly escaped with each step. “Ebony.”
“Imani,” Zak whispered, and started running too. As they neared, both stopped within arm’s reach. Imani stared into Zak’s eyes and raised her hands to touch her. Zak backed away slightly, and Imani stepped toward her again. The tension in Zak’s posture seemed to drain away as Imani slowly cupped her cheeks. Neither spoke for several minutes as she explored Zak’s face, head, neck, arms, and hands. The gentleness of her caresses seemed intimate. Sara wanted to look away and give them privacy but couldn’t. When Imani finished her examination, she raised Zak’s arms and placed them around her waist. They hugged like lovers parted for too long, close and tight. The two were obviously good friends. The ache in Sara’s gut made no sense.
After what seemed an embarrassing eternity, the women parted and walked toward her arm in arm. Zak introduced them, her gaze leaving Imani for only seconds at a time. “Imani is Ben’s sister. Their father is chief of the village. You’ll meet him later at the celebration.”
The woman was even more striking up close. Though her complexion was lighter than Ben’s, the similarities were obvious. Her skin was flawless, lips full, and eyes the color of a gold cat’s-eye marble. Her dark hair was curly and clipped close to the scalp, similar to Zak’s. And when she smiled, her entire body radiated congeniality. Sara immediately understood Zak’s attraction but not her connection.
This woman’s touch seemed to have transformed Zak. The stiffness that usually resided in her shoulders and back had disappeared, replaced by a more relaxed stance. The woman who resisted physical contact clung to Imani like a lifeline. The eyes that constantly scoured
“Some go to work. Some to sell goods in town. They start very early.”
“Amazing. Even on Sunday?” Sara said, almost to herself.
“Every day.”
When she returned her attention to the inside of the vehicle, Zak was watching her with the amused expression one might give an inquisitive youngster. “We’re almost to the village.”
Within minutes they arrived at the top of a small flat hill overlooking the savannah for miles on either side. Branches of thorn bushes provided a border that encircled several mud huts measuring about five feet tall. A group of men, all adorned with brightly colored wraps and beads, gathered outside the border under an acacia tree that provided the only sliver of shade. Small children chased each other inside the makeshift fence while women sat in the shadows of their huts engrossed in some type of manual activity. Sara was surprised about the cultural detour since Zak had been so anxious to get to their destination.
“We are home,” Ben announced as he parked the jeep and waved his arms proudly toward the meager surroundings. “ Karibu. Welcome.”
Sara tried to contain her shock and appear gracious and appreciative as she exited the vehicle. Apparently she failed miserably.
“Close your mouth, Ms. Ambrosini,” Zak whispered from behind her. “Breathe and don’t swat at anything larger than you are.”
She grabbed Zak’s arm and pulled her closer, keeping her voice low. “Where will we sleep?”
“Ben has offered us one of his huts. That’s an honor.”
“ One of his huts?”
“Yes, he has three, one for each wife.”
“Surely there’s a hotel or rooming house nearby. I’d hate to inconvenience anyone.” Sara had been camping many times and was quite capable of adapting to most things, but this setup gave new meaning to the term “roughing it.”
Zak seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. “I’m afraid not. Besides, it’s an insult to refuse his invitation.”
“Ebony!” a female screamed. Sara searched for the source and saw a tall, mocha-skinned woman running toward Zak with her arms spread wide. The red garment draped around her body barely covered her ample breasts that nearly escaped with each step. “Ebony.”
“Imani,” Zak whispered, and started running too. As they neared, both stopped within arm’s reach. Imani stared into Zak’s eyes and raised her hands to touch her. Zak backed away slightly, and Imani stepped toward her again. The tension in Zak’s posture seemed to drain away as Imani slowly cupped her cheeks. Neither spoke for several minutes as she explored Zak’s face, head, neck, arms, and hands. The gentleness of her caresses seemed intimate. Sara wanted to look away and give them privacy but couldn’t. When Imani finished her examination, she raised Zak’s arms and placed them around her waist. They hugged like lovers parted for too long, close and tight. The two were obviously good friends. The ache in Sara’s gut made no sense.
After what seemed an embarrassing eternity, the women parted and walked toward her arm in arm. Zak introduced them, her gaze leaving Imani for only seconds at a time. “Imani is Ben’s sister. Their father is chief of the village. You’ll meet him later at the celebration.”
The woman was even more striking up close. Though her complexion was lighter than Ben’s, the similarities were obvious. Her skin was flawless, lips full, and eyes the color of a gold cat’s-eye marble. Her dark hair was curly and clipped close to the scalp, similar to Zak’s. And when she smiled, her entire body radiated congeniality. Sara immediately understood Zak’s attraction but not her connection.
This woman’s touch seemed to have transformed Zak. The stiffness that usually resided in her shoulders and back had disappeared, replaced by a more relaxed stance. The woman who resisted physical contact clung to Imani like a lifeline. The eyes that constantly scoured
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