Melanie and the Drill Sergeant aren’t the only ones in the room. An old skeleton has appeared and begins to present his case.
“You have to get a life.” My oldest sister’s harsh words slice through me. My siblings have come to town and have called a meeting in the restaurant across from the hospital.
“I have a life.”
“No you don’t. You’re there every day and every night, sleeping in that awful hospital room.”
“What about her? She has no choice but to be in that awful hospital room. I can’t leave her alone. She’s afraid.”
“It’s not just that, you need to get a life, in general. You have no one, just her. The rest of us have our own families. Soon, she’ll be gone, then what do you have?”
I thought I still had a family. I thought her passing would bring us all closer. I thought we would support each other. Won’t we?
I expect one of my other siblings will jump in and tell her to stop. Tell me that we are family and that we have each other. Family is supposed to stick together, especially in hard times. Blood is thicker than water, or something like that. But no one says anything, their faces are expressionless. The busy restaurant is filled with tables of happy families, and mine has just imploded.
“We want to put the house up for sale,” she continues.
“What do you mean? She’s not dead yet,” I shouted, not giving a damn about the glances from neighboring tables. “What happens when she tries to go home and there is no home to go back to? What will you tell her, then?”
“She can’t look after herself anymore, she can’t live alone. We’re going to go through the house tomorrow, get rid of some of the crap in there before a real estate agent comes to look at it.”
“Crap? It’s not crap. That’s a family’s life in that house, her life, Dad’s life, the first thirty years of my life are still in that house!” Rage overtakes me. How can she be so cold?
“We won’t touch your things, but we want to clean it up before we leave town.”
“Leave town? You just got here yesterday, why are you leaving?”
“It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, we need to get home to our own families.”
My brother avoids my eyes, and my other sister looks at me with great sadness. She knows this is wrong, but she wants to avoid conflict.
“You can’t leave Mum on Christmas. I’ve arranged to have Christmas dinner catered in her room. She loves Christmas, and she’s so happy everyone will be here this year. Don’t do this to her.” No longer asking, I’m begging them, which is like begging a stone to have a pulse. My mother may have lost feeling on one side of her body, but she is aware of everything around her. She doesn’t think she is dying.
“The doctor isn’t optimistic, so you need to face reality. She’s dying.” My sister’s tone is as cold as ice.
“The doctor doesn’t know her, he doesn’t know how strong she is. She’s going to get better, she just needs love and support. Miracles happen every day.” Even though I plead, my words have no effect on the strangers seated around me. I’m furious. If we all pull together we can save her. She needs all of us here. She is our mother, dammit. “How can you leave her?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow night,” she says with an air of finality. “Let’s get the bill and get out of here.”
“She’ll be looking for all of you, it’s Christmas! What the hell will I tell her?”
The skeleton fades away until it’s just Melanie and the Drill Sergeant left. It’s no longer Christmas, and my siblings are gone, but I feel that same sense of defeat in the room.
“Right. I’ll see you ladies at 11:30. I’ll drop you at the bus stop, and you’ll be on your way to the World Cup in no time.” The Drill Sergeant, polite and still smiling, sounds like a different person.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Melissa!” Melanie cries.
“What?” His smile disappears.
“I’m staying right here. I’m ready to get to work whenever you are.” I’m not going to give in again.
“I will remind you again that this is not some sort of a spa getaway. Nor will this compare to what you see in those silly Hollywood movies. There is nothing glamorous or romantic about this place. This is real, and it’s hard work. There’s no room for complaining, whining, or crying. You will still be expected to work, even if you do complain, whine and cry.” He waits a beat before continuing. “You will get dirty, cold, and tired—and even then, you will still be expected to work, to do whatever job we give you, or Mother Nature dictates.”
“Okay.”
But he isn’t finished pontificating, “Mother Nature is unpredictable, at best and wildlife is even more unpredictable than her. My job is to keep you alive, but if you make stupid mistakes and take unnecessary chances, I will not risk my own life to save yours.”
“Okay.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The Drill Sergeant begrudgingly tosses me a pair of soft butter yellow leather gloves and a camouflage green baseball cap. “You’re going to need these,” he grunts. The smile, long since disappeared, has been replaced with a scowl.
“I’m going to need some kind of a weapon too.”
“We don’t carry guns at this reserve. We use our brains, and above everything else, we use our common sense—I hope you brought some of that with you.” His voice trails off as he stomps out the door.
I give Melanie a long hug, and we vow to meet in Cape Town in a few weeks’ time. I turn to catch up to the Drill Sergeant, who is already beeping the horn and shouting something in Afrikaans. Life is finally beginning.
6
Think Tank
A current of excitement and adrenaline pulses through my body, and I can barely contain myself for the exciting work that lay ahead on my official first day of work at the Big Five Game Reserve. Perhaps I’ll be working in the cheetah breeding program, or maybe I’ll get to dart a rhino. Or maybe we’ll just observe the socialization behavior of giraffes, or track leopards. Or maybe the Drill Sergeant will teach me some safari survival skills now that I’m living alone in the tent camp, like how to wrestle a croc.
This is the most exciting day of my life. Unable to hold back, I jump into the seat beside the Drill Sergeant. Ack. I hadn’t seen the pool of condensation in the seat. The back of my jeans are completely soaked.
With a turn of the ignition, the air is filled with the pungent smell of fuel. After a loud huuucccckkkkk, we take off on our first adventure. I’m not even going to ask what we’ll do first because I want to be completely delighted and surprised when we arrive to our first mission. I’m dying with anticipation, and my cheeks hurt from the grin plastered on my face. I don’t even care that I’m sitting in a cold puddle—bring it on. I will take whatever this day is going to give me. The sun is high and bright and my yellow leather gloves are flawless, just like the day ahead.
The Drill Sergeant drives only a hundred yards, stops, turns off the engine, and gets out of the truck in front of the elephant stables.
“Why are you stopping?” I ask. I’d seen enough of that wrinkly old bitch yesterday and have no desire to see her again.
“Time to shovel shit.” He averts my eyes and slams the door behind him with a loud thud.
Are you kidding me? I didn’t come all the way here to clean out elephant stables. Surely there must be some kind of a mistake, or this is a cruel joke. I look back at the common area, and I have sudden visions of press parties, good food, and five star hotels. Do I go, or stay here and shovel elephant dung? What if he makes me shovel shit every day? What if that’s all I ever do here?