Grand Theft Safari (7 page)

“It's too late,” I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I took my hands off the steering wheel but, in my dread, I forgot to take my foot off the gas and we plowed into their path. They dove out of the truck's path, screaming.

The truck jerked to a stop at the base of a tree. Tomas looked up and over the dashboard.

“Uh-oh,” he moaned.

Dad was at Tomas's door, yanking him out of the truck by his shirt collar. Mom was at mine, pulling me out of the truck. Elea ran away from all of us, barking like crazy.

“How dare you take the truck! You are not old enough to drive!” Dad yelled at us.

“You could have been killed!” Mom screamed. “You could have gotten lost out there! We'd never know where to find you!”

I knew there was no way we could talk our way out of this one.

Tomas spoke up. “I wanted to show Marisol the cheetahs.”

“The what?” Dad asked angrily.

“Cheetahs. Nigel and Elea tracked them this morning. I wanted to see them up close before they moved on to a new spot,” Tomas explained.

Mom relaxed a bit. Dad still looked angry.

I came to Tomas's aid. “It's true. We found them.”

Dad looked at Nigel.

Nigel said, “I did track cheetahs this morning. But I didn't see any.”

“Well, we did,” Tomas said.

Mom took Dad by the hand and they turned away from us, so we couldn't hear what they were talking about. Mom waved her hands around as she spoke. Dad shook his head and rubbed his forehead.

Several long minutes later, Dad turned back to us. He said, “No one was hurt. But neither of you are to go near a steering wheel until you are sixteen years old. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” we answered in unison.

“Go to the tent and be quiet until I finish
speaking with your mother,” Dad ordered.

Tomas and I practically ran to the tent.

“What do you think they'll do?” Tomas asked nervously.

“Tie us to a tree and let the ants eat us?” I suggested.

“I'm serious. This is no time to joke,” he said.

“You should have thought of that before you stole the truck,” I said.

Our parents left us in our tent for another hour. We couldn't hear exactly what they were talking about, although we had our ears up against the tent panel the whole time, hoping to catch their conversation.

Mom came to get us.

“You may come out now,” she said sternly.

Tomas and I followed her to the fire pit. “Here it comes,” I whispered to Tomas. He nodded.

“Now, we have two days left at Lake Bogoria. As your punishment, you will spend the next two days collecting flamingo poo with your mother.” Dad smiled like this was the best punishment ever.

Great, I thought. For the next two days, Tomi and I would climb around the lake's shore, scraping
up poo and sliding it into glass vials. Wonderful.

Tomas and I argued for the next two days as we collected the samples. Mom, Dad, and Nigel seemed to think our punishment was amusing. They would check in on us, smirk, then go sit under an umbrella.

Chapter Nine

GOODBYE AFRICA

Nigel helped Mom pack the scientific crates and load them on the train in Nairobi. From there, the crates would head to the airport to be shipped back to Mom's university laboratory in Chicago. We would spend two nights on the coast before returning to Nairobi to catch our plane out.

Diani Beach, on the coast, was completely different than our time in the interior of Kenya. The town sat on the Indian Ocean. I'd never seen such turquoise waters before. Tomas couldn't resist it. He rented a snorkel and flippers. He splashed around, cruising just below the surface, watching for exotic fish. Mom and Dad played a round of golf on the golf course. I stretched out on the sandy beach, soaking up the warm sunshine
and reading a book.

After two days of acting like lazy tourists, we needed to head back to Nairobi. During our last night in Nairobi, Nigel said goodbye to us. He was heading back to his village to spend a week with his own wives and children before embarking on another safari with a wealthy English family.

“I didn't know you had wives and children,” Tomas said to Nigel.

“Oh, Tomas, some things are private. Men don't talk about private things,” Nigel said.

He smiled down at Tomas fondly.

After weeks in the African bush, a night at a hotel with running water felt heavenly. Tomas and I fought over who would get to shower first. We both lost the fight. Dad got to shower first.

Mom sent our clothes out to be cleaned thoroughly for the first time in weeks. We'd been washing them by hand at camp and hanging them to dry on a simple clothesline.

“I'm ordering room service,” Dad declared as he stepped out of a warm, steamy bathroom. “We're back in civilization, baby. And I feel like celebrating.”

“Room service!” Tomas cheered. Tomas loved room service. Just the idea of sitting around in pajamas and having people bring you food was Tomas's idea of a perfect day.

“What shall we order?” Dad asked as he looked through the menu.

“Steak!” Tomas voted.

“Steak it is!” Dad said eagerly.

An hour later, freshly showered and wrapped in hotel bathrobes, we feasted like kings on thick cuts of steak.

Dad smiled at Mom and said, “What do you think sweetheart? Would you say it was a successful research trip?”

“Well,” Mom answered, “I'll know for sure when I run those samples through the machines in the lab, but it sure was amazing.”

“Kenya is spectacular,” I agreed. “I never thought I'd ever see cheetah or elephants face to face in the wild.”

Mom leaned over and kissed my cheek. Then she leaned over and kissed Tomas's cheek.

“I'm glad you came along. I'm glad you got to experience Africa,” she said.

“Thanks, Mom,” Tomas said.

“Who wants to help me put the flamingo poo in the machines when we get home?” Mom joked.

“Marisol does,” Tomas giggled.

“Oh, no I don't. I'm sick and tired of flamingo poo,” I said.