The Doctrine of Presence. Benjamin Vance

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      I responded, “Leo what are you doing here? Who did you bring with you?”

      “We came to rescue you Daiwee. Fredo called me two days ago and pleaded for me to come.” He chuckled a little. “Fredo is not a boy scout you know. His heart’s in the right place, but he doesn’t like the boonies. If you continue to the Amboseli air strip, we have some presents for you and the rest of us too. Can you take down some coordinates?”

      “Yeah, shoot. We have a map laid out in front of us now.”

      “Okay, 2 degrees, 38, 42.25 south by 37 degrees, 14, 55.37 east will put you just about in the middle of the air strip. It should take you a full day to get there if you follow the road you’re on now. We’ll wait, Leo out.”

      Gimp commented as he gingerly sat down in his chair, “Well, at least we’ll have some company tonight if we make it in.”

      Fredo, who had overheard part of the conversation came over to the SUV to ask, “Did I hear right? Was that Leo in the plane that just buzzed us?”

      I smiled and said, “Absolutely, he wants us to meet him at the Amboseli air strip tonight. We’re having steaks, shrimp and all the fixings … I wish. He said he has some surprises for us though.”

      Fredo smiled, put his hands on his hips and said, “No shit?”

      “Yep, I guess we should get started … any problems?” I noticed a look in Fredo’s eyes and said, “What?”

      “Look Daiwee, I don’t ask for much.” Gimp’s laugh interrupted him and he gave Gimp a John Wayne look. He started over, “I don’t ask for much, but one of the guys I’m riding with farts like a skunk. It’s almost making me vomit. Can I ride with you and Toto?”

      Gimp said, “Holy shit---you baby! I’ll ride with them. Damn, do we have any clothes pins in case it gets too bad in there, Daiwee? Fredo; want some cheese with your whine?”

      I laughed, but told Fredo to get his stuff and ride with us. N’tolo said he’d ride with the other men if I desired, but I knew what that would entail; me driving and the Africans arguing all the way to the air strip. The main reason I split them up is I was fearful they may hurt each other if unsupervised. They were bright men, but had this strange abrasion going on among them from the start. Perhaps tribal, I thought.

      After everyone was satisfied and calm, we hit the bumpy road once again. About an hour into our washboard existence, an actual lioness streaked across the road in front of us. I yelled at Fredo to look, and N’tolo said she was chasing a small deer. I didn’t see the deer since I had been looking out the side window.

      We made a long curve to the right and there was a puff of dust settling about twenty feet off the road. N’tolo said, “She kill it, see.” The lioness had what looked like a small dog in her mouth, and it was obviously dead. When she saw us, apparently for the first time, she ran like hell into the bush.

      Just then, Fredo started yelling, “Stop, stop … stop this fucking tin can now, Toto!”

      N’tolo and I were so surprised by his agitation that N’tolo reflexively slammed on the brakes. The second vehicle swerved to the edge of the road to miss us and stopped as well. Fredo, jumped from the vehicle and ran as fast as he could to a small clump of brown grass, carefully reached down and picked up something. My mind reeled. I thought he’d picked up a snake, and he hates snakes as well. He bundled something up in his arms, under his shirt tail and when he reached the truck, I saw a little pointed black nose and two big eyes sticking out. N’tolo smiled at Fredo, pointed and said “Dik Dik deer.”

      Fredo said, “Dick your dear, Toto. Ain’t this the finest thing you ever saw in your life, Daiwee? She’s smaller than a puppy. I wonder what kind of milk she needs.”

      Looking admiringly at the little thing I said, “Dik Dik milk, daddy. Maybe someone will have something for it when we reach the air strip. If I can believe the map, there’re about four hotels in that one area. Someone is bound to have a bit of milk that’ll do.”

      Fredo said, “Let’s go, so she doesn’t get hot in this jalopy.”

      N’tolo said, “Mr. Sankaw will tell ranger. Maybe you need to let Dik Dik go now?”

      Both Fredo and I said, “Bullshit, let’s go.” N’tolo started forward. He looked back to Fredo and grinned at the little face protruding from Fredo’s shirt.

      * * *

      We made many bad turns and false starts prior to arriving at Ol Tukai and the Amboseli air strip. Fredo was getting a bit antsy about the little Dik Dik he’d named Tinker Belle at some point during our trip. He was awfully quiet … for Fredo. He didn’t interrupt idle conversations, as was his usual penchant. I overheard him softly talking to the little animal several times, and his mind didn’t seem to stray too far from her. It actually passed through my mind that he may have been bitten by some exotic, disease carrying insect or had a relapse. As it turned out he was just bitten by the love bug.

      We pulled into the air strip area well after dark and drove to the general zone of the west end. There was a small building and our aircraft was sitting on a side apron. It was difficult to make out the general form of the plane in the blackness, except for the dim red cockpit lights. We drove cautiously around the building and came almost bumper to bumper with a large eight-wheeled Unimog truck. Its lights were off, there were no reflectors on the front and it was painted in a vague camoflage pattern. N’tolo managed to miss it and we passed two others before we approached the plane. I wondered if the film crew made it there before us; entirely possible in a Unimog; except theirs were six-wheeled, and didn’t have big cab-over bodies. N’tolo pulled up perpendicular to the aircraft and I got out.

      Cautiously approaching the shape of the plane with a red diode light, I saw it was also painted with a strange camoflage pattern on the “sky” side. I saw the light blue of the bottom earlier in the day and it brought back memories of WW-II bombers painted that way to make it difficult for German fighters to spot them. Just before I knocked on the door, I heard murmurs from inside. The door opened and a red glow sprang from the craft. I was greeted by a red Leo and red Greenie. The only thing I could think to say was, “Greenie, you look Red.”

      The third face to peer into the gloom was our old friend (and his) Andrew Wall. My heart sank and my hackles were immediately up. I said, “What the hell’s going on. Are you guys here to assist the movie team or something?”

      Leo was the first to respond, “No way Daiwee, why would you think that shit?”

      “Well, those three Unimogs belong to them don’t they?”

      “Not only no, but hell no. Those beauties are ours Daiwee.” He glanced beyond me and said, “Hey, guys how you been?”

      I turned and saw Fredo wheeling Gimp up to the craft. Gimp had Tinker Belle in his lap. She was sitting there like she owned him, and his wheel chair. The three African gentlemen apparently were left with our belongings and the SUVs. I worried about that too.

      Once Leo and Greenie saw Tinker Belle, it was all over. They practically jumped down the ramp to see her. It was all oohs and aahs, for what seemed like ten minutes, while Andy and I just stood there watching in the red glow, with silly smiles plastered on. When at last Leo was allowed to carry the little thing, they came slowly up the ladder like they were carrying the Queen of Sheba and the СКАЧАТЬ