Ambush at Amboseli Page 3

  "So?!" I said, starting to roll up my sleeping bag. "You don't have to brag about it, Goody-goody Two Shoes."

  "Girls, be polite," Mom said. "Remember John 13:34. Practice it!"

  I remembered John 13:34. It was that verse about people knowing we are Jesus' disciples by how we love each other. I sighed and finished rolling the sleeping bag. I didn't want to look at Sandy. She was being such a goody-goody. It wasn't fair. Still, I really did want to please Jesus. Finally I said, "Sorry, Sandy."

  "It's OK," she said. "I forgive you."

  That bugged me, too. It wasn't like she was perfect. She should say sorry, too. But to keep from getting mad again, I changed the subject.

  "What was wrong with the Geislers?" I asked her.

  One of her eyebrows went up like it did when she was surprised. "Nothing's wrong, is it? They're nice," she said. "Mrs. Geisler told me to call her Kim—not Aunt Kim, just Kim."

  I shrugged. The words I'd overhead at Kilaguni Lodge ran through my head. "His being here will hurt their witness. They can't possibly stay…" I tried to stop my head from thinking about them.

  Sandy interrupted my thoughts. "The Geislers are coming to Amboseli with us. They were going there anyway, same as us. Mom and Daddy asked if they wanted to drive with us."

  "You sure?" I asked her. "The Geislers said they wanted to go with us?"

  Amboseli is another game park. Mostly I like it even better than Tsavo. I knew we were going there today. I sighed. If the Geislers were coming with us they couldn't really be mad about Rick, could they?

  We started late because the Geislers took so long to pack up. A bunch of guinea fowl ran along the road beside us for a few seconds. They looked like excited black footballs with chicken legs. We saw giraffe and gerenuk in the distance. It got hotter and hotter. I was tired of sitting in the bumping, hot, jerky, dusty car.

  Rick suddenly swore.

  My sweaty shirt stuck to the car seat for a second when I sat up to see what he was looking at. We'd just come up a steep hill. Now we were driving on the lava flow. I'd seen it before, and it really was weird. It looked like a huge, bare black river of twisted rock.

  "I suppose you could call it hell," Daddy said to Rick. "It's the Shatani lava flow. Shatani means 'Satan' in Swahili."

  "Hey, look," Rick said. "Sorry the language bugs you. It's gotten to be kind of a habit. I've been trying to remember, but it just slips out. I guess you'll just have to take me as I am, or leave me."

  "We'll take you," Mom said, leaning over the backseat and squeezing his arm.

  "Does that mean it's OK to swear?" Sandy blurted.

  "Not for you," Rick answered, laughing.

  "How can wrong and right be different for different people?" she insisted, sounding almost angry.

  "It can't," Daddy said in a flat voice.

  "But—" Sandy objected.

  "We'll talk about this later," he said determinedly. Even Sandy knew it was no use arguing.

  "Why don't we stop for a picnic lunch?" Mom asked, changing the subject. "That will give Rick a chance to look at the lava flow."

  A few minutes later we drove down off the lava flow. We stopped in a kind of island of normal ground. The high sides of the lava flow were all around us. Dad parked the car under a tree. The Geislers pulled up next to us.

  I was peeling a boiled egg when Daddy started his tour-guide speech. I looked at Rick, wondering if he would think it was dumb. I mean, sometimes it's embarrassing to have Daddy always explaining. Rick looked like he was really listening, so I relaxed and listened too. Daddy was explaining how the lava had poured out of the Chyulu Hills more than a hundred years ago. He explained so well I could almost see it gushing red-hot through its black, broken crust, lighting huge brushfires. No wonder the Africans thought it was something from Satan.

  After lunch Daddy said, "Why don't you girls go explore the lava flow with Rick? We need to talk to the Geislers."

  "All right!" Sandy yelled, grinning and hopping on one foot.

  My heart did a double thump. I couldn't help feeling excited about exploring the Shatani lava flow. We'd never stopped long when we came here before. But on the way up the slope of the lava flow I looked back uneasily. What were Mom and Dad and the Geislers talking about? Whatever was going on had to be serious. Usually Mom wouldn't have let Sandy and me just go off out here in the wild.

  Mom saw me look back and called, "Don't go far, and stay together. Be careful, that lava is sharp."

  Up on the lava flow, heat blasted off the black rock into our faces.

  "This place is as bare as the moon," Rick said, looking around.

  "Look at this!" Sandy called from a few feet over. She'd found a place where the flow was as smooth as boiling hard candy. Rick bent down and touched a twisted bit of rock that stuck up. It came loose in his hands. He looked at it carefully, then dropped it into his pocket.

  "Why're you keeping it?" Sandy asked.

  "I dunno," he said. "Maybe I'll use it to keep me spiritually in tune. It can help me focus for meditation. Kind of like a crystal or a mantra."

  "What's a mantra?" I asked.

  "It's something that helps a person tune in to meditate. It helps you get spiritually in touch with the whole, the oneness of everything," he said.

  "Like praying?" asked Sandy.

  "Only I'm not talking to a dominant father-God like you do. It's just communing with everything there is. There isn't a boss. Nobody is my boss but me."

  I frowned and blurted, "There is! He made it, all of it." If there was one thing I knew for sure, I knew God was the Creator. I'd felt him loving me through his creation too many times to be confused about that. I waved my arms toward everything around us and said, "It's way too beautiful to be an accident!"

  Rick didn't answer. He just shrugged and started hunting around for other pieces of rock. I started looking too. So did Sandy. Sandy and I automatically kicked at the rock first to make sure there were no snakes or scorpions underneath. Twice, skinks shot out, making me jump. But I knew those sleek lizards didn't hurt anything but bugs.

  I found one piece of lava that looked like a piece of wood. On top of it was another blob of rock. It was interesting looking. I'm keeping it, I thought. I could feel the heat of the black rock on my hand.

  I'm not going to use it for a mantra, whatever that is, I told myself. I just want this one because it's pretty. I thought for a minute. And because I like the neat things God makes.

  My piece of lava looked like a frog on a log. It felt sharp and heavy. I knew I'd have to be careful how I held it or I could cut myself.

  Sandy came up behind me. "Where's Rick?" she asked, looking worried.

  I stood up straight to look around. I couldn't see him.

  "We're not supposed to be by ourselves," she said. "What if there's a leopard?" She bit her knuckle the way she always does when she's scared.

  "It would run, like the one did this morning," I said to make myself feel braver. Then I yelled, "Rick!"

  "I don't care, I'm going back," Sandy said.

  "Don't tell that he left us," I said. "I'll find Rick and come back too, OK?"

  When I had yelled, it had sounded loud. I was afraid I might bother something I didn't want to bother, so I didn't yell again. I just started walking instead, looking for Rick. I heard rocks clinking on the slope. I froze. What if it wasn't Rick that was there? What if it was some animal?

  | Go to Table of Contents |

  Chapter Four

  "Rick?" I tried to call. It came out in a croak. This is stupid, I thought to myself. If it isn't Rick that I hear, it's probably just a baboon. Still, I couldn't make my mouth open to call again. I edged sideways and looked down the side of the lava flow. My breath came out in a whoosh of relief. It was Rick.

  I stared at what he was doing. He was picking through the broken rock on the slope with his hands.

  "Don't!" I yelled, going as fast as I could down the rough slope. "Don't put your hands down in the rock!"


  Rick looked at me like I was crazy. His eyebrows were straight and level over blue eyes.

  "There's poison snakes and stuff" I said. The way he was looking at me made me feel stupid. I stopped partway down the slope. "Really," I said. "You could get bit. There are even scorpions."

  He looked at me hard. "You're not fooling, are you?"

  I shook my head.

  After a minute he said, "Thanks for warning me."

  He started walking up toward me. A small red-brown blur shot out from under the rocks almost at his feet. He jumped and stumbled onto one knee. The blur was a mongoose. A second one streaked after it. The weasely little animals ran a little way. They stopped on top of a rock, sat up like dogs begging, and yelled at us.

  Rick got back onto his feet, laughing. "This place is full of life. I love it," he said. "But if you can't put your hands into the rocks, how did you get that?" He made a motion to the chunk of rock I was carrying.

  "Well, I sort of kicked it over first to make sure there wasn't anything under it. Besides, it wasn't where there were so many rocks jumbled together. There's too many hiding places here. Some places we just stay out of."

  I held the rock out to him. "Isn't it a neat one? See, that blob on it looks kind of like a frog."

  He took it and looked it over. "It is neat. It has a different mental feel to it than the one I've got. It forms my thoughts in different patterns."

  "You can have it," I said. "I can always find a different one another time." Suddenly I was worried. If I gave it to him, was I helping him do his religion? I blurted, "You have to think about the only real God sometimes when you look at it, OK? I mean, he loves us. He made everything, and it is so neat…" I paused, feeling silly, and added, "He loves me anyway. It's kind of hard to explain."

  Rick was looking at me with one eyebrow up. I tried again to explain, "Like that giraffe looking at me and making me laugh. When I remember to look, God's love is all over the place smiling at me. Besides, he came down and died for us. He did it to take the punishment for wrong things so we could be his kids. He helps me all the time. It's true! Really! Here." I held out the rock. "Take it."

  Rick reached out and took the rock. "Thanks," he said, smiling. "I don't know about this father-God stuff, but you're OK, Sis."

  I smiled. It was the first time I felt like we could be friends. We walked back together not saying anything. It was a friendly kind of quiet. The heat came through the bottom of my shoes as we walked across the black lava. I looked down. My runners were scuffed and cut from the rock. I glanced over to see if Rick's shoes were the same and gasped. Rick's leg was all scraped. It was bleeding into his sock.

  "Hey, you cut your leg!" I blurted.

  He nodded, "Bumped some lava when the mongoose scared me. It's no big deal. Better than a snake bite," he laughed.

  We were most of the way back to the car when I saw Sandy. She was standing, frozen, with her back to us.

  "Sandy!" I called. "What are you doing?"

  "Shhh!" she said, and ran toward me. She grabbed my arm and started whispering frantically. "You can't go down. They're arguing. The Geislers are arguing with Mom and Daddy."

  We stood still and listened. Weaverbirds in a tree behind us were making a racket. Mrs. Geisler's voice was so loud it cut right through the noise. She was almost yelling as she said, "… and I feel that you should resign from the mission. This situation ruins any chance we have of modeling a healthy Christian family pattern to the African church!"

  "As I said before," Daddy said, sounding patient, "why don't we leave that decision up to the mission and the church?"

  I bit my lip and glanced at Rick. His black eyebrows were down in a furious frown. The muscles at the corners of his jaw were bulging.

  Mr. Geisler's voice said, "If you won't listen, we'll have to go to the field representative about this. Kim and I feel very strongly that having an illegitimate child here will ruin your ministry. It is—"

  Rick snorted explosively and strode forward. I stumbled after him, practically running. Sandy was right behind me.

  As we burst in on them Daddy was saying, "Feel free to do that. The mission was not ignorant—"

  "I don't know who you people think you are!" Rick bellowed, striding angrily toward the Geislers. His hands were balled into fists. "This is absolutely none of your business!"

  There was a moment of frozen stillness. I could hear the weaverbirds chattering. My throat was so tight it hurt. I could see that Mom had been crying.

  Rick glanced at her, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Look," he said, turning to the Geislers, "you people call yourselves Christians. You say you follow God's ways. If this is how your God wants you to act, I don't think much of him or of his uncaring rules."

  Mrs. Geisler moved closer to her husband. She looked like she wanted to cry. "It isn't that way," she said desperately.

  "I think we'd better go, Kim," Mr. Geisler said. They walked toward their car. Just before he opened their car door he said, "We will be praying for you. I know this isn't easy."

  "We'll be praying for you, too," Mom called after them in a shaky voice.

  Their car disappeared down the dusty road and left us standing there.

  "Are they still going to Amboseli?" I asked.

  "I don't know," Daddy said in a tired voice. "We'd better get going. Rick, I'm sorry things got so unpleasant. It isn't as simple as it looks. Kim and Clifford don't dislike us. This is painful to them too. We just disagree on some things. With help it can be worked out."

  Rick made a snorting noise. "They think you should quit your job because of me. If that's Christianity, count me out!" He got into our car and slammed the door.

  Nobody said anything in the car. I wanted to talk to Mom and Daddy about what was happening with the Geislers, but I didn't dare with Rick there.

  After a long, hot time, I noticed Daddy was slowing down. There was noise outside the car. I jerked awake and stared out the window. There was a mob of Masai people in the road. They were crowded around another car. High, angry voices shrilled in the hot air. Some of the kids were stooping to pick up rocks. A young man with a red cloth tied over one shoulder was shaking his spear at the car. More people were running toward the road from a manyatta. A manyatta is a Masai village. I could see the thorn wall and the tops of the mud sleeping shelters through the bush.

  "It's Geislers' car!" Mom said suddenly.

  Daddy frowned and got out of our car.

  "Kevin, be careful!" Mom called after him.

  "Why should we help people who are such jerks?" Rick asked, sounding frustrated. Mom looked at him, but she didn't answer his question. Instead, she turned around to Sandy and me and said, "Let's pray that God will give your wather fisdom."

  I felt so tense inside that Mom's mistake made me giggle even more than usual. Mom said, "Seriously, kids, this could be dangerous. Probably the Geislers didn't pay for taking pictures and the Masai are angry. That manyatta isn't rich. They go to a lot of trouble to be here by the road dancing for tourists. They've even dragged rocks onto the road to get people to slow down and look."

  I suddenly remembered something Uncle Paul told us. A tourist van had hit a Masai boy. See, the boy didn't know cars can't stop instantly. He had jumped right in front of the van to make it stop. The van didn't dare stop after the boy was hurt. The whole village thought the driver had done it on purpose. The driver kept on going and went and told the police what happened. The next morning when the van driver went to fill up with gas, he found the boy's father waiting for him. The father had walked all night to get vengeance. He killed the van driver.

  Suddenly I felt like praying. I asked God to let Daddy explain things well. That way everybody would understand and not be angry. I rolled down my window to listen. The Masai still sounded angry, and now they were crowding around Daddy.

  "Fool man," Rick grunted. Then he got out of the car and went to stand close beside Daddy.

  "Why'd he get out?" Sandy
asked. Her voice sounded scared. "He's mad at the Geislers."

  "I think he's trying to protect your father," Mom answered. She sounded like she wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry.

  I leaned out the window, listening. The people had quieted down. Daddy was saying he would pay for the pictures the Geislers took. He said the Geislers were new guests in Kenya and did not understand. The whole group gathered around him and Rick. Rick looked nervous. When Dad asked for one person who could give out the money, about ten reached for it. All of them were yelling. Each one was trying to get Daddy's attention. They each were trying to convince Daddy to give the money to them.

  Daddy yelled, "Basi, basi!" which means, "Stop!" Then he said, "If you cause trouble here, the police will not allow you to do this, and you will become poor." He asked for an elder who would distribute the money fairly. They argued with each other for a few seconds, then a boy ran off toward the manyatta. We waited.

  We kept waiting. It was hot. The brownish grey flies were everywhere. I begged to get out of the hot car. Mom wouldn't let me.

  I could tell Dad was getting impatient. He looked very irritated. Finally a whole bunch more people came walking from the manyatta. An old man was in the center of the group.

  "I hope Dad remembers to be polite," Mom said nervously as they approached him and Rick. Mr. Geisler was with them now, too. The elder looked very dignified. He greeted Daddy. Daddy greeted him, asking in Swahili how he was, how his family was, how the land was, and the cattle. That's the polite way to do things there.

  The elder asked Daddy questions, too. Dad explained about our family. Then he said that the Geislers had done the wrong thing because they were new in Kenya. It took a long time. It's not polite to hurry.

  Finally the elder accepted money from Mr. Geisler. People had crowded close to listen. One of the men said something angrily, but the elder made him be still. Then he turned to the crowd. He made a long speech about how they should be polite to guests. I knew what he said because he did it in Swahili. I guess he spoke in Swahili instead of Masai so that Daddy would see that things were being done properly. I squirmed and watched a fly crawl on the elder's face.