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Authors: Jeremy Bates
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the entire antenna, gone. It must have snapped off in the bush. Or maybe an animal snagged it during the night.” He looked devastated. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have checked the vehicle before we left.”
“Cheer up, boss,” Sal told him. “We’re only passing through the crater. It will be more of an adventure this way.”
Scarlett squeezed his thigh, grateful for his understanding.
As they progressed west across the crater floor, they saw more gazelles and zebras and buffalo than Scarlett could count. She glassed the grasslands through the binoculars for a bottleneck of Land Rovers, hoping it would indicate a predator sighting. It was a strategy that paid off. The first gathering led them to a chilled-out leopard lounging in the crotch of an acacia tree, the second to a pack of spotted hyenas making whooping-giggling noises while tearing apart the ribcage of an antelope with their bone-crushing jaws.
When Silly mentioned they were coming up to a picnic spot, Sal told him to pull over so he could use the restroom. Scarlett realized they still had a long trip ahead of them and decided a visit to the ladies’ room might be prudent. She went to the single-person cinderblock lavatory and waited outside for Sal to finish. She was watching a secretary bird wading through the tall sere grass, stomping about on its long legs, when she heard Sal talking on his cell phone. She went a little closer but only caught one or two words before he hung up. He exited moments later and gave her a curious look.
“I need to go too,” she said.
“Be my guest.”
Scarlett did her business, then went to the sink to wash her hands, all the while wondering who Sal had been speaking to. And why in the restroom? Why not in front of her?
She glanced in the mirror on the wall, tracing her fingers around her eyes, as if she could magically erase the small wrinkles forming there.
“You’re thirty now, Scarlett,” she said to herself. “Happy birthday. These are your stripes. You’ve earned them—and you only get more.”
Her thoughts turned to Marie Dragomiroff, the thirty-six-year-old, dark-haired, dark-skinned heir to a French shipping conglomerate. The woman could speak six languages, had her own successful clothing line, and her exotic beauty upstaged anyone in the room with her, whether it be a prince, rock star, or Scarlett herself. Their first and only meeting had been at a Washington fundraiser the year before. Scarlett remembered the day perfectly. Marie had been dressed in something elegant and of her own creation, looking ten years younger than she was, working the room effortlessly, a fluttering butterfly, a natural socialite, the faces of the lawmakers and powerful business types smiling when she approached, their eyes following when she moved on.
The way she flattered Sal, innocently touching his arm.
How had I not known earlier?
She closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead.
She left the restroom.
Back at the Land Rover, Silly pointed to the sky, where a swelling of dark storm clouds was gathering. “We need to be quick,” he said. “If there is a storm, the rain could wash out parts of the road up the crater wall.”
“What would happen then?” Scarlett asked. “Would we be stuck here overnight?”
She shivered at the thought of spending the night on the floor of an enclosed crater that was home to the highest density of mammalian predators in Africa.
Silly shook his head. “That cannot happen. The rangers would come and get us.”
“Even with the road washed out?”
“There are other roads in and out of the crater I do not know of. They would find a way.”
“The radio isn’t working, remember? How would we call them?”
“They would know,” he said simply, though she thought she saw a flicker of doubt cross his eyes.
Silly climbed behind the wheel of the Land Rover while Sal and Scarlett got in the back. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Low, angry clouds moved in front of the
“Cheer up, boss,” Sal told him. “We’re only passing through the crater. It will be more of an adventure this way.”
Scarlett squeezed his thigh, grateful for his understanding.
As they progressed west across the crater floor, they saw more gazelles and zebras and buffalo than Scarlett could count. She glassed the grasslands through the binoculars for a bottleneck of Land Rovers, hoping it would indicate a predator sighting. It was a strategy that paid off. The first gathering led them to a chilled-out leopard lounging in the crotch of an acacia tree, the second to a pack of spotted hyenas making whooping-giggling noises while tearing apart the ribcage of an antelope with their bone-crushing jaws.
When Silly mentioned they were coming up to a picnic spot, Sal told him to pull over so he could use the restroom. Scarlett realized they still had a long trip ahead of them and decided a visit to the ladies’ room might be prudent. She went to the single-person cinderblock lavatory and waited outside for Sal to finish. She was watching a secretary bird wading through the tall sere grass, stomping about on its long legs, when she heard Sal talking on his cell phone. She went a little closer but only caught one or two words before he hung up. He exited moments later and gave her a curious look.
“I need to go too,” she said.
“Be my guest.”
Scarlett did her business, then went to the sink to wash her hands, all the while wondering who Sal had been speaking to. And why in the restroom? Why not in front of her?
She glanced in the mirror on the wall, tracing her fingers around her eyes, as if she could magically erase the small wrinkles forming there.
“You’re thirty now, Scarlett,” she said to herself. “Happy birthday. These are your stripes. You’ve earned them—and you only get more.”
Her thoughts turned to Marie Dragomiroff, the thirty-six-year-old, dark-haired, dark-skinned heir to a French shipping conglomerate. The woman could speak six languages, had her own successful clothing line, and her exotic beauty upstaged anyone in the room with her, whether it be a prince, rock star, or Scarlett herself. Their first and only meeting had been at a Washington fundraiser the year before. Scarlett remembered the day perfectly. Marie had been dressed in something elegant and of her own creation, looking ten years younger than she was, working the room effortlessly, a fluttering butterfly, a natural socialite, the faces of the lawmakers and powerful business types smiling when she approached, their eyes following when she moved on.
The way she flattered Sal, innocently touching his arm.
How had I not known earlier?
She closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead.
She left the restroom.
Back at the Land Rover, Silly pointed to the sky, where a swelling of dark storm clouds was gathering. “We need to be quick,” he said. “If there is a storm, the rain could wash out parts of the road up the crater wall.”
“What would happen then?” Scarlett asked. “Would we be stuck here overnight?”
She shivered at the thought of spending the night on the floor of an enclosed crater that was home to the highest density of mammalian predators in Africa.
Silly shook his head. “That cannot happen. The rangers would come and get us.”
“Even with the road washed out?”
“There are other roads in and out of the crater I do not know of. They would find a way.”
“The radio isn’t working, remember? How would we call them?”
“They would know,” he said simply, though she thought she saw a flicker of doubt cross his eyes.
Silly climbed behind the wheel of the Land Rover while Sal and Scarlett got in the back. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Low, angry clouds moved in front of the
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