SHORT STORY
Pride AMONG Predators
by Denice Penrose
M
urder is easy. The killing I mean. It’s simple. We see it all the time here in the Kruger National Park. Eat or be eaten is the rule. Africa is a dangerous place. I should know: I’ve been doing this for twenty years. “Here’s the jeep keys Gerry. Better make sure your rifle is loaded. We’ve had reports of a rogue elephant.” “Thanks Manus.” I deliberately brush my fingers against his as I take the keys. He flushes, but smiles. He’s young, new. He’ll learn. I’ll make time for him at the end of the tourist season. Rifle in its case, slung over my back, I walk out of the thatched cool, across stone floors into the African sun. They’re waiting for me, under the canopy, cameras, binoculars and phones in evidence. They’re stacked in layered seats— high enough to give them good views. Looking at the faces, I note Chinese, Nordic blonde, Indian—a microcosm of cultures. I’ll know the others by sunset. “Môre Julle. That’s Afrikaans for ‘Good Morning,’ I smile. “Sawubona,” Jabu says. “That’s how we say it in my language.” 12
He flashes an electric smile—his teeth whitened by the contrasting darkness of his complexion. “I’m Geraldine, this is Jabu. We have a few rules to keep you safe,” I say beginning our usual lecture. I don’t have to think about the words anymore. I outline our route for the day, the animals we’re likely to see, and I watch faces light up. Ah, tourists, my pain, my pay and my pleasure. Jabu climbs behind the wheel, and starts the engine. “Is your gun loaded?” I ask sotto voice. “Always, Gerry, Always.” We drive out of the gates of Skukuza. Automatically, I begin narrating. “It’s been dry lately, so we’re more likely to spot game along the river, so we’ll be driving along the Sabie River. Our first rest break will be when we get to Lower Sabie.” As if they know we’re coming for them, the impala begin to put in an appearance, “Look it’s like a buck. It’s so close.” Ah, an American. “Can we stop to get a photo?” Jabu looks at me and I nod. Shutters click. Jabu and I share an amused smile—we have a bet on how long it will take for them to go
from excitement over a few impala, to ‘it’s just another buck.’ There are well over 130,000 in the park, so my bet is one hour. Jabu thinks it will take three. An hour later he hands over ten Rand (R), as we drive past a large herd of Impala. One of the tourists yawns. So far we’ve ticked off Zebra, Kudu, Giraffe, and a few wildebeest. There are a couple of keen bird watchers, and they’re delighted to see a Hoopoe sitting proudly in a tree, curved insect eating beak in prominent display. A little later, a flock of purple crested rollers fly past.
Books ‘N Pieces Magazine — April 2022 — www.BooksNPieces.com
