The ringing phone woke me. “Naomi! Can you get that? I’m in the bathroom.”
I stretched and reached for the room’s phone but was too slow. The ringing stopped and I rolled back onto my back. I stared at the white netting, trying to remind myself where I was.
I glanced over at the bedside clock. It felt like I’d been asleep five minutes, but it was actually four hours. It was too early. I pulled myself up and leaned against the bed’s headboard. My body clock said it was still night and the view out the large windows confirmed it. I knew the beauty of the landscape was beyond those windows but I could see none of it. It was completely dark. The evening’s moonlight was gone and the sun’s light was still an hour away. But the room was well lit. Charlotte had all the lights on. Probably in a passive-aggressive attempt to wake me up.
The room’s phone rang again and I answered it on the first ring. “Rise and shine, ladies. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
I jumped out of bed and got dressed, thankful I had planned ahead. My backpack was prepared for the day, with my camera, binoculars, and hat.
Charlotte strutted out of the bathroom in her safari finest. Her khaki cargo pants were paired with a light cream fitted shirt and she carried a coordinating long-sleeved buttoned shirt. She looked ready for a catalog shoot.
I braided my hair, cinched the waist of my slightly too big light gray pants, and tucked in my tan T-shirt.
Following Charlotte, I trudged to the hotel’s reception area and out of the hotel to our waiting Land Cruiser. My fellow travelers were in various stages of wakefulness. Old people get up early so the Vankeys were ready and well-equipped. A large camera, with a telephoto lens, hung from Colin’s neck. The couple wore similar safari outfits as yesterday. Missing from their ensembles on the flight last night were the safari hats. Today, they wore matching ones. Tan, wide-brimmed hats, with straps hanging around their necks. It really completed the ensemble.
Dr. Higgins, also wide awake, was ready to go. He carried a messenger bag. Last night, he channeled a professor. Today, Indiana Jones. I paused, trying to remember if Indiana Jones was a professor. I couldn’t remember and I didn’t care. My only care was a cup of coffee. Or a jug of it.
The Wallaces arrived next, holding hands. Jack didn’t appear to have stayed at the bar much longer than me and didn’t look any worse for wear. It appeared his wife had gotten up at four in the morning. It would take me an hour to get my hair that coiffed. She did know we were going to ride in an open car all morning on rough roads that produced clouds of dust, right?
The trio were the last to arrive. The woman was yelling at the teenager to hurry up. He appeared to be sleepwalking. He looked like I felt. I gave a conciliatory smile, which in typical teenager fashion he ignored.
“So glad to see all of you,” Sonny announced. He checked his watch. “And all of you on time! Let us go. The animals are waiting!”
Distracted by the aroma of coffee, I looked around to try to find where it was coming from. Not finding its source, I headed to the truck and was last to arrive. Comfortable in her perch in the top row, Charlotte asked, “Does Naomi get to sit up there?” pointing to the small seat hanging off the front bumper.
Sonny laughed and the others joined in. “No, that’s for our tracker, Ray.” On cue, Ray came from the hotel, carrying a large cooler.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“Later.” Sonny pointed to the seat in the front next to him and I climbed in.
He stood on his seat and appraised his new group. “Ready to find some wildlife?” he asked.
“Yes,” a few answered.
“You don’t sound ready.” He turned to Ray. “Do they sound ready? Maybe they need a few more hours of sleep.”
“They do,” I mumbled. A few nodded agreement.
“I’ll ask again. Are you ready to see some wildlife?” Sonny asked, in a slightly louder voice.
With more energy, we responded, “Yes.”
“One more time. Are you ready to see some wildlife?”
“Yes!” we yelled.
“More importantly, Ray, are you ready to find us some wildlife?”
Ray nodded and saluted the group before hopping into his seat on the front of the cruiser.
Sonny drove on the smooth dirt road away from the lodge. He waved at the staffer at the security hut, who opened the gate and let us out into the African bush.
Last night, exhausted from the journey, I hadn’t taken in any of the sights on the ride from the airport. This morning, I didn’t know where to look. The sun’s first rays lit up the lush greenery on either side of the road. Short thorny bushes were surrounded by tall thin grasses. Trees, of varying heights, dotted the view farther off the road. The beauty was in the haphazardness of it all. No landscaper had ever touched this landscape.
The dirt road became bumpier as Sonny made a series of turns. With no GPS or street signs, I wondered how he knew the way. Years of experience, I assumed.
Ray held up his hand and the cruiser stopped. We all sat silently and waited. We looked around, trying to figure out what he was seeing. Ray pointed to the right and Sonny took off. He pointed two more times, once to the right, the second to the left. We came over a hill and there it was.
Our first animal sighting.
“Impalas,” Sonny told us in a hushed tone.
There were oohs and ahhs and cameras clicked. I struggled with my backpack to get my camera out.
The herd of antelopes was mostly gone when I finally had my camera ready. “Don’t worry,” Sonny assured me. “You’ll see plenty more of the impalas.”
I nodded, but was still disappointed with myself. I should have been ready. I hung the camera around my neck. I’d be ready for the next animal sighting.
“They’re like Chevys back where you’re from.” Noticing my lack of reaction, he asked, “Get it? Chevys?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Chevy Impalas? The car. There’s lots of them in the US, right?” Cars weren’t my thing but I nodded anyway. “You’ll see plenty of impalas here too and get plenty of pictures.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Sonny looked back at his group. “More?” he asked.
Fully awake now, everyone cheered, with shouts of “Yes!” He put the car in drive and we took off again in search of more wildlife.
The terrain remained bumpy and Sonny followed Ray’s signals until we came to a clearing.
“A journey of giraffes,” Sonny announced. He slowly drove the cruiser off the road for us to get a closer look at the grouping. I held on to the passenger-side railing, wishing the vehicle were equipped with a seat belt.
Once we stopped, I rested my arms on the passenger door and rested my chin on them to watch the four giraffes stretch their necks as they ate leaves off the trees. They took no notice of us, even though we were only a few hundred feet away.
Sonny tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “You want me to take your picture?” He pointed to me and the giraffes. I was so mesmerized I had forgotten about the camera.
“Sure.” I handed him the camera. He snapped a few photos.
I returned to resting my arms and head on the passenger door to observe the giraffes until they glided away and out of sight. I heard murmurings behind me from the other travelers, who had also marveled at the animals.
Ninety minutes, and countless animal sightings later, we stopped for a short break. Countless to everyone but Dr. Higgins, who recorded each sighting in his travel log.
We were all thankful to stretch our legs. Mrs. Vankey was thankful for the potty break. And I was thankful for the coffee.
Ray set up drinks and a few light snacks. I only wanted the coffee. Sonny poured a cup and handed it to me. “I believe you’ve been wanting this.”
I peered into the cup of black deliciousness and took a deep breath of the aroma. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t want you tackling the others for it.”
Just one day and he knew me well. It was sad my caffeine fix was that obvious. I took a long sip and didn’t care. “I would have run through that pod of hippos if I needed to for this.”
He smiled brightly. “Look at you, even without the caffeine you learned! You think the rest remember that a grouping of hippopotamuses is a pod!” He refilled my cup. “You…You will be my best student this trip.”
I smiled, glad I had impressed someone. Throughout my elementary and high school days, and three (and a half) semesters of college, I had never impressed a teacher. Charlotte would say he had said it to increase his tip. She was probably right. But his tip was raised when he handed me the first cup of coffee and refilled it when no one was looking.
Sonny and Ray handed out cups of coffee, tea, or juice to each guest before getting themselves each a cup of juice. Sonny held up his glass. “Wasn’t that a wonderful way to start your vacation!”
We raised our glasses in salute. All fully awake from a magical morning of animal sightings, and the ride on the rough road, we cheered back.
Cup of coffee in hand, I wandered around and smiled at my fellow travelers. Jack raised his own mug of coffee in greeting as I passed. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one needing the caffeine fix after the late night at the bar. His wife, Geri, held his hand and drank her orange juice. She smiled back.
Mr. and Mrs. Vankey had commandeered Ray’s attention and were peppering him with questions. Colin held his large camera in his hands, pointing to images in the viewfinder. Ray told them what type of foliage each image was. I wondered how he maintained his positive attitude.
The professor stood off by himself, sipping his coffee and watching the impalas interact with each other. He certainly was channeling Indiana Jones with his ensemble. He had the tan safari shirt, the khaki pants, the dark brown worn felt fedora. All he needed was the whip. And the ruggedly handsome good looks. Maybe twenty years ago, and twenty pounds ago, he had them.
“Get any good shots?” Charlotte asked.
“I’m sure. We’ll check when we get back to the lodge.” If I hadn’t, we had several more game drives to get them. I’d been mesmerized by it all and spent more time observing the sights than looking through the camera’s viewfinder. The impalas grazed twenty feet away and I debated going back to the ride for my camera.
I was startled when she pulled me in for a hug. “You were right about this.” Another shock. “There’s nothing like this. Thanks for letting me come with you.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Sabrina interrupted. “Let’s get a picture of this.” Charlotte and I smiled at the camera. Our mother would be so pleased. “I’ll email them to you.”
“Thanks,” Charlotte and I said in unison.
Sabrina looked around at the group. “You know, we should all share photos. Share ’em when we get home. I’ll start a list of our emails.” Sabrina made for the cruiser.
Ray was finishing packing up the snacks and drinks when Sonny called out, “Time to head back, my friends. A large breakfast awaits at the lodge.” Looking at me, he added, “With plenty of more fresh coffee!” The group laughed and started to climb back into our ride. “Same seats. We switch in the afternoon.”
I got back into the front seat. The only seat with a blocked view. The stadium seating of the rest of the spots behind me allowed everyone a better view. With the tracker’s seat in front of me, I had a great view of the back of Ray when looking straight ahead. I looked forward to sitting in the back in the afternoon. But I’d miss Sonny’s commentary.
Maybe I should have sat this close to the teacher when I was in school.
True to her word, Sabrina started a list of everyone’s email. She promised to email us the list before the evening game drive. I wished her success as Jack had said internet was often spotty at these lodges. I hadn’t checked yet but thought Jack was right. I’d watched Zaden wander around the common area with his phone in the air trying to get a signal after breakfast. Once he’d found one, he didn’t leave the spot for fifteen minutes.
After a hearty breakfast, and just one more cup of coffee, I made for our room.
“Charlotte, can I have the key?”
“You have to go get it. It’s at reception.”
“Why?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Because when you leave the lodge, you have to leave it at reception.”
I looked to Geri for confirmation and she nodded. “She didn’t pay attention at all in orientation, did she?” Jack asked.
“Never does,” Charlotte answered, between bites of her omelet.
I ignored them and headed to reception. On the table was a bowl holding our room key. Next to the bowl was a sign that confirmed what Charlotte had told me. “Please leave room key here during game drives.”
I wondered how many keys had been lost in the African bush before they decided on the policy.
I retrieved our key and went to our room to enjoy the free time. The group had free time until lunch. We could nap, sit at the common pool, get a massage, or go the gym.
I chose sitting on our deck, by our private plunge pool, as did Charlotte. I was scrolling through the mornings photos when Charlotte asked, “What do you think of them?”
“Of who?”
“The other travelers.”
I shrugged. “Just people needing a vacation.”
“No one is what they seem.”
I looked up at her. “Here in particular? On this trip with us?” Sitting up front with Sonny, I had been a distance from the rest of the group. What had she observed to be this cynical?
“No, in general,” she clarified.
Last she had said, Charlotte was studying to become an internist. Maybe she had changed her mind. “Are you switching over to psychiatry?” I asked.
“No. I’m just saying. While we’re watching the animals, it’s fun to watch the human animals too.”
I shook my head and returned to my camera’s viewfinder.
She nudged my upper arm. “Come on, you’re watching them too.”
“I didn’t have quite the view you did from your perch in the back.” Finished with perusing the mornings photos, I shut the camera off and rested it on the table next to me. “Thanks for saving me a seat by the way.”
“What? You always called shotgun when we were kids.”
“Ha-ha.” I couldn’t argue with her. She was right. “Well, sitting next to the driver in this ride isn’t nearly the best view in the car.”
I returned my attention to our current view. The lush green landscape in front of us. For over a mile, the varying shades of green spanned in front of us. Nothing man-made in sight. Even if you looked to your right or left, you couldn’t see the other lodgings. All you saw was nature.
Some of the greens started to sway. Initially, I thought it was the wind, but the movement was just in a small area. I pulled my binoculars out of my backpack for a closer look and gaped at what I saw.
Our phone rang and Charlotte ran to get it.
Now in full view, I watched a herd of elephants appear in the field. The twenty-plus elephants varied in age and sizes. The wrinkled gray bodies, with white curved tusks, marched along the land, spread out from each other. Their tails gently swung back and forth. Some stopped to graze. Their elongated trunks reached into the trees for leaves.
“It was Geri, from next door,” Charlotte told me as she returned. I pointed to the field. “Wow,” she gasped.
In silence, we watched the herd traverse the field. I snapped a few photos but spent most of the time just watching them. They walked slowly across the land. I smiled as a calf—that’s what Sonny told me a baby elephant was—trotted to keep up with his mother after he had fallen behind. The elephants’ trunks swung slowly back and forth as they plodded along. Occasionally, they stopped to graze a few leaves from the trees before resuming their journey together.
The herd now gone, I asked, “Why’d Geri call?”
“Wanted to let us know about the herd of elephants.”
I rested my head on the lounge chair. “That’s nice.”
“Ulterior motive, I’m sure.”