The African Safari Papers by Robert Sedlack

Author:Robert Sedlack [SEDLACK, ROBERT]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC019000
ISBN: 9781468300956
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2011-12-20T05:00:00+00:00

Thursday, August 18

2:34 p.m.

Maralal Safari Lodge

Cabin 12

Kenya, Africa

I thought Baringo was paradise. But Maralal is even better. I have my own cabin. As I write I can see zebras grazing about twenty yards from my window.

I feel like the safari has only just begun. We are finally seeing big game. No more fucking flamingoes. We’ve entered the best part of the trip. I am so happy here. I am glad we’ve left the madness of Baringo behind.

Dad woke me up at seven this morning by rattling on my tent flap and yelling my name. I snapped awake and shouted that everything was okay. He yelled back that he wasn’t asking if everything was okay. He was just telling me to get moving. He asked what was wrong. I shouted that there was nothing wrong. He grumbled something and walked away.

It took awhile for my dream to resurface. Perhaps I was trying to forget it. I grew anxious about how I’d treat mom this morning. Would she see it in my eyes? Would she sense what I had dreamed? Slap me six times? Three on the left cheek. Three on the right. I didn’t need to worry. The bed was empty and neatly made. Her bag was gone. She must have left early. An awful feeling slowly settled in. If she wasn’t in my tent then where the hell was she? Dad must have assumed when he woke me up that mom was still with me.

I remembered accusing her of molesting me. Jesus, if that wouldn’t drive a person to suicide, what would? I rushed outside and ran like a lunatic to mom and dad’s tent. I arrived, out of breath, to find mom quietly packing her stuff into the last of her bags. She turned and smiled sweetly. Dad wasn’t there.

“How did you sleep?” she asked.

“Good,” I said, relieved. “You must have been up early?”

“I was. But I had the best night’s rest I’ve had in a long time. Your father’s gone to the restaurant. We’re to meet him for breakfast.”

There was a momentary pause where our eyes met. “I’m sorry about the things I said last night.”

“What things?” she asked.

“You know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do and I’m sorry.”

“Richard Clark, I have no recollection of anything being said to me last night by you or any other person that requires an apology. The only bad thing you did was grind your teeth, which you shouldn’t do because you’ll lose enamel.”

I left their tent and walked back to my own. So that was the game plan. Complete denial. She hadn’t been drunk so she couldn’t have blacked out. No, she was denying the whole thing. Good.

I got back to my tent and a camp staffer was folding up my cot. I grabbed my cigarettes off the table and lit a smoke. The staffer smiled at me as he wheeled the cot away. I could hear the squeak of the tiny wheels as it was scuttled away over the pebbles on the path.

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