The Opiate, Summer Vol. 18
The Horn Joseph V. Pali
H
e stepped forward with the utmost stealth, first placing the ball of his foot down, and then slowly resting the heel of his boot. The sodden forest floor muffled the sounds of the steps into a mild squelch. The foliage was dense, and the vines plentiful. There was room to step forward, but everywhere one could step, it would most likely produce a sound. He was too hesitant to move forward, but knew full well that not doing so may make the entire venture unworthy. He didn’t panic, instead he took the opportunity to weigh his options, figuring none could blame him for doing so, and mean time admired the view from that distance. There they were; those inimitable stripes. A God given homage to the zebra, perhaps? No, he quickly corrected himself. Noticing that the pattern looked more like the glaze over a mille-feuille. Internally congratulating himself on the clever comparison, he dared to reach for his notebook in order to record the thought. The backwards motion caused a few leaves to jostle, and by the time he turned around, all he could see was the still
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swinging greenery which had just been disturbed by a fast passing creature. It had eluded him once again. “A local, damn it. I want a local,” Edward said as he returned to the Belgian owned camp, a short distance away from Stanleyville. “Sir, we did provide you with a local, and a translator. It was the most we could do,” Edward received as a response from the only official available to speak with him at the government offices. He riposted, “Sir, I would be remiss not to remind you of how handsomely the Imperial Academy and his Majesty’s government of Belgium have been remunerated by myself, my associates, and our trustees. You are meant to be our guarantor in this venture. So far, as I am aware, you have done nothing but give us the bare minimum. If I am forced to return empty handed, the official complaint will have no name in thicker ink than your own.” “How may I help then?” the Belgian official asked with renewed interest in Edward’s demands. “I require a local guide. Not some rubber sur-
