The Doctrine of Presence. Benjamin Vance

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СКАЧАТЬ trips abroad? Do you have any contacts in other places?”

      She looked at the wall a few seconds and replied, “Well, yeah, a bunch of veterinarians make a trip to Africa and sometimes other places every year. They come from state associations, from world associations and such, but it costs like heck and unless courses are actually taught there, one can’t legally deduct the costs under continuing education expenses. The person you’re looking at right now is too poor to go on one of those trips anyway. What’re you grinning at?”

      “You look so amazing when your hair is wet.” I patted my knee, “Will you sit down so I don’t have to look up at you?”

      She continued to dry her hair with the towel she had loosely wrapped around her head without replying. Finally she stuck out her tongue, tossed her hair back and said, “No! Not until you tell me what you’re cooking up.” I judged she had a bad day, a bad surgery or she was just overly stressed. I knew she had a lousy boss. I said it anyway.

      “I thought we’d take a trip to Africa and see what’s cooking over there.”

      “Right, sure, after I quit my job and get ready, you guys change your minds and I get stuck in some other desert outpost around here spaying rabbits. No thanks!”

      She swung herself around and started for the kitchen without saying another word. I sought some way to tell her what we just accomplished in Venezuela, but quickly thought better of it and kept my mouth shut. After a few minutes she yelled to ask me what I wanted for supper. I told her I wasn’t hungry, but continued to hear the pleasing sounds of her puttering about, preparing her own meal. I actually thought our relationship had gone beyond petty jealousies and recriminations, but I was older and she was younger and took nothing for granted. Fifteen years out from her divorce and she was still raw.

      We didn’t say much to each other for several days, but I received her message and had learned to step lightly on a woman’s pride. Things finally straightened out a bit, but I felt the barbs between us, still. I kept busy; occupied with planning and writing to animal rescue agencies in Borneo, India, Africa, Argentina, Australia and anywhere else I heard a murmur from, or saw a nature program about. I donated to some, hoping they would ask for help in other forms. They didn’t.

      Samantha must have seen a few return letters with posts from other countries, because one day I found a folded Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association on my desk. It was opened to an article about a group of veterinarians who had gone to the Democratic Republic of the Congo to help save elephants wounded from poaching attempts. They couldn’t help much. Apparently the orphaned babies died of stress and loneliness anyway and the injured adults didn’t fare much better. I got mad and very focused.

      When I went to the internet yet again and searched deeper, I found a lot of conflicting information, many pleas for money and a few more pleas for help. I assumed that anyone should be able to help, but my offers of help were answered with more pleas for money. I knew money talked, but was surprised by some of the outright squeeze plays made for bucks. I finally decided to go on my own and find out what the story was, up close and personal.

      When I checked with the U.S. Department of State site, all I saw were warnings about diseases, internal conflicts, dangerous animals, and other negative cautions. After reading that, I figured Africa was the place to be. I called all four of the other cohorts and received a positive answer only from Gimp. He and Lidia were raring to go. At first, I thought … Lidia? Then after thinking over what that little girl accomplished in Venezuela, I decided that if she’s good for Gimp’s spirit and pulls her load, what the hell. I didn’t know they had personal problems while in Venezuela.

      We made arrangements to fly Lufthansa and I guess I left the tickets laying somewhere too obvious, because Sam came into my office the evening before our departure and asked when I was going to be back. I hadn’t talked to her about the trip much and she hadn’t asked about what were obviously preparations over the ensuing two weeks after my little “I thought we’d take a trip” faux pas.

      I really don’t think she associated my short absence to South America with anything sinister or dangerous, so the trip to Africa was not a real concern to her … until she found the tickets with an open ended return date. I really didn’t know what to think about “us”, because after my proposal and her hesitation, she may have lost interest or assumed I was losing interest. However, I simply could not assume, and had to 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 СКАЧАТЬ