Day 5

Oh Carol.

Some chic.

I'm going to be a little blunt. My apologies to all you nice ladies out there reading this but it's the only way to describe things quickly and yet briefly so that you all understand. It is important that you understand.

If Karen was the intellectual (she was actually a history professor and always said that I was insecure with her because of it) then Carol was the extreme opposite. A brainless sex object.

Carol took me sexually where I'd never been before and where I’ve never been since. Although she talked about wanting to be an actress, she didn't fake anything in bed. It was all real, vigorous and with no holds barred.

So why is it that I never fell in love with her? They say sex is important to men don't they? Them damned shrinks, they know nothing.

Carol was a man's woman. The one word that comes to mind when I remember her is SEX. She talked about nothing else. She didn't hassle, she didn't nag or complain about anything else.

Still I felt nothing for her except lust.

I've never met another woman since who knew how to put feeling into words like carol did. Know what I mean?

I can still hear her favourite greeting musically drifting to my ears; "I've missed you honey." The way she said that "honey" was out of this world.

On the few nights when the bedroom acrobatics had to be postponed because of the way of women, she'd sadly look deeply into my eyes and say; "Sorry honey, I'm in 'Nam tonight. Damn. Damn. Damn."

She wasn't even born when America fought that war. Where had she picked it up from? But it was easy to understand the blood connection between the Vietnam war and menstruation.

That's one relationship where I was in a trance. I was rudely awakened from it one night when I dropped in unexpectedly at her digs to find another man in her bed. Never really saw what he looked like and I still wonder whether he was as tall and well built and good looking as I am.

She opened the door and I could see she was scared. The guy called from the bedroom asking who it was. Some man, having your girl open the door alone at some ungodly hour.

I quickly turned and walked away. I was just shocked. I tried very hard to feel hurt or jealous, I really did. No such emotion emerged anywhere in site. Not that I didn't like Carol. I did. And I still wonder where she is now, or rather which man’s bed she's in.

Some chic this Carol.

If there’s something that that relationship taught me, it was just how much I didn’t know about love.

I must apologize for all this talk about the women in my life, maybe I’ve overdone it. You may think that I’ve digressed from the main story, but I’m glad I talked about it, apart from clearing my own mind, it is important that you know this stuff so that you understand stuff that takes place later especially concerning my relationship with Teresa.

So now Teresa was missing from this tourist camp in the middle of nowhere in some bush in Africa. The camp manager was sure that it wasn’t some lion. I was puzzled because people don’t vanish just like that. And then there was the unexplained blood that I had found on the carpet in my room. That really scared me. But maybe I still wasn’t scared enough for the woman I loved because I was still in shock. It had all happened too fast.

“When did you last see her,” The Kenyan plain clothes police officer asked me when he arrived at the camp.

“We came from the game drive and I headed to the bar for a quick drink. She headed for our room here.”

“I understand that you are newly married and this is your honeymoon holiday?”

“That’s right officer.”

This African cop was intelligent, I told myself. Wonder where he received his training. He was respectful and looked like he was afraid to ask questions, he always seemed to hesitate. But the man knew his stuff alright, as his next question proved beyond any doubt.

“Then why are you sleeping in separate beds?”

I was too shocked to answer immediately. How did he find out? How did the staff who must have told him find out? I thought Teresa and I had taken enough precautions.

I broke into a cold sweat.

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