Day 24

“We do not have the facilities here to remove the bullet.” The male nurse in charge of the small health center the Masai warriors took me to told me after carefully examining David. He was a short plump nurse with a round and extremely oily face.

“Where can we get them?”

“The nearest hospital is about 100 kilometers from here.”

“He won’t make it.”

“Correct. And even if we were to try, the only available transport there is here only twice a week. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

“What do you do in the case of an emergency?” I asked panic rising in me.

He shrugged his shoulders. “This is Africa.”

I knew what he meant. In the case of an emergency the unlucky person just died. For years I had taken easy access to the best medical facilities in the world for granted. Now when I required it the most, I was in the middle of the bush in Africa and it was unavailable.

But I was not going to let David die on me as I watched. I had to do something, anything, to give him a fighting chance.

I carefully lifted the dressing the nurse had just placed on the wound and examined him myself for the first time. The nurse stared at me puzzled, wondering what I was going to do next. Actually I didn’t know myself yet, but desperate situations called for desperate solutions.

“Do you know exactly where the bullet is lodged?”

“Below the heart. From the slow bleeding, it can’t have seriously injured any vital organs. But then one can never be sure.”

“We’re going to remove the bullet.”

“What? I would not advice that,” the nurse said visible sweat showing on his forehead.

“Why?”

“Dangers of serious infection, and more important if the bullet has injured a vital organ, removing it without having a way of dealing with the heavy bleeding will kill him instantly.”

“Do you have a better idea?” I was shocked at how calm my voice sounded.

“I will not take responsibility for whatever happens.”

“Where do I sign, to get you off the hook?”

His hand was visibly shaking when we commenced the operation about 10 minutes later.

“Remember that I warned you against doing this,” he said yet again.

“I’ll remember that rather than just watching him die, we tried to do something.”

I resisted asking him whether he had ever done this sort of thing before. I was afraid that I was not going to be able to handle his answer to that question.

It appeared that the bullet was lodged too deep into the body to be reached. The nurse prodded a few times, each time I wouldn’t avoid wincing, and after a while it seemed to loosen a little. It was difficult to tell with all the bleeding that was going on. The bleeding greatly increased when the bullet was close to the surface.

The nurse suddenly stopped. He wiped sweat from his forehead and when he was through, his handkerchief was visibly soaking wet.

“I can’t go on, madam.”

“Why?”

“He’s bleeding too much. You know what that means.”

“What does it mean?”

“That the bullet must have damaged a vital organ. He’ll bleed to death if we remove it.”

“No. Just remove it. H-he’s bleeding a lot anyway.” I shouted at him.

He reluctantly continued to pull and prod at the bullet. When he finally yanked it out, David’s chest was literally flooded with his own blood. The nurse quickly disinfected the wound and tried to bandage it the best way he knew how.

I was now well aware that David’s chances of survival were extremely low, if not nil. I had no medical training but even I knew that he had lost far too much blood. He would not make it to the hospital when the vehicle turned up the following day to start a 100-kilometer journey through some of the worst roads I had ever seen.

Had I killed him? Why had I not taken the doctor’s advice and just waited. Maybe he would have had a better chance of surviving. In my desperation I had made a fatal mistake against medical advice.

I had already lost a million dollars. And now it looked like I was going to lose the only thing I had left? The man I loved so dearly and yet the man I had never made love to?

How was I going to live with myself after David’s death? How would I face life? I sunk my face into my hands in despair and quietly cried. I cried for David but most of all I cried for my miserable existence and myself. The only man who would have changed everything was now dying on me.
=======================
One place that I would have loved to write this blog novel from is Orlando in Florida. This is by far the most popular holiday destination in the United States. The focus on family living has spurred residential development over the years on the edge of downtown called Baldwin Park, a traditional neighborhood with architecture reminiscent of the pre-1940's era in Central Florida. I'd have loved to do most of this blog novel from an Orlando Rental Home packed with tourists in the neighborhood. I'm told there is no way I would have avoided Buyers Broker of Florida, a unique exclusive Buyer Agency Office, in my real estate arrangements.

Day 23

In desperation I grabbed at David and desperately tried to drag him towards the bush. He was heavy, I can’t have moved him much. Still the Masai’s did not seem to get the message.

Were they still in shock, or what was the problem? Why couldn’t I get them to move?

Then it dawned on me. For the first time since the whole shooting incident with Bat-ears had started, I looked at myself. I was literally naked. My breasts were dangling free and what was left of my skirt were small pieces of cloth that did a terrible job of hiding my private parts.

I grabbed at one of the long pieces of red cloth the Masai loved to wear. The Masai warrior held on to it tight, but they seemed to understand what I wanted. Another spare piece emerged from somewhere and I covered myself.

The men must have been staring, I thought and wondered why because their own women went round everywhere with their breasts exposed to the harsh African elements.

This time when I tugged at David, they got the message pretty quickly and two of the warriors lifted him up and we set off.

How much of the 10 minutes had I wasted? How far off could Kevin be now? I hurried the Masai warriors on, not even sure where we were headed for. I was also very worried about David, he required urgent medical attention. I didn’t want him to die on me. Not now. He was all that I had left, as the million dollars now looked more and more remote by the hour.

I almost didn’t breath until we were at least 300 meters from the place. Still I was well aware that we were not completely out of danger yet. Kevin would desperately search everywhere until he found us. Especially when he found Bat-ears dead.

The though of Kevin now made me feel bitter and violated. Just when did his grand plan start? It seemed to me that he was scheming against me even when we were in bed together.

Day 22 - Teresa's side of the story

There was what I thought might be a very slow pulse.

Yes, there it was again. A rather faint heart beat, but it was there. Thank God.

But now I knew that we needed to get him some medical attention, pronto. But where? We were in the middle of nowhere, where could we possible find a doctor?

"We need to get him to a doctor," I said turning to one of the brave Masai warriors.

They replied in their dialect and I couldn't understand a word.

"Damn it. We need to get this man to hospital, this is an emergency. Doesn't anybody understand English here?

They just stared back at me not understanding a word.

I remembered that just before the shooting had started, there had been somebody translating for David. They had to be here somewhere.

My eyes saw the other man who had been shot lying lifelessly on the ground. He had to be the translator. Now what would I do?

The ringing of a cell phone somewhere interrupted my thoughts. It wasn't Davids’ so where was it ringing?

It seemed to be coming from Bat-ears' pockets. I needed to answer it. Maybe it was somebody who would help out.

I made my way to where his body lay and quickly searched his pockets, finding the tiny Nokia mobile in one of his trouser pockets. It was still ringing and I answered it.

"We will be there in 10 minutes. Prepare the white woman. We are finalizing this business today," a familiar man’s voice said without waiting for me to speak.

And before I could answer, they went off the line.

I had never been so shocked in my life. I had read many stories of betrayals and suffered my fair share of some minor ones in my life. But this was something totally different. Somebody I knew very well wanted me dead, so that they could avoid sharing 2 million dollars with me.

So it was Kevin after all. There was no mistaking that voice.

The bastard. My former lover, the man I thought I knew and would trust my life with. I had a mind to call him back right there and then and tell him a thing or two. Then I remembered where I was.

I also realized that I was now in some real serious crisis.

David was barely alive and Kevin would be here in 10 minutes. I had no illusions of him hesitating to finish off both David and I. Between us we now knew too much to remain alive.

But how was I going to do it when these natives spoke no English?

I was now in a panic.

Day 21 - Teresa's side of the story

I continued to rack my brains for a solution.

This man was extremely dangerous and yet here I was fooling around. What had come over me? Wouldn't it have been better to take my chances with the wild animals out there and having no idea where I was?

Yet something inside told me that I was close to getting a solution. Real close to some sort of breakthrough with Bat-ears. Insane as he was, this man held two major keys I wanted and wanted very badly.

The first was to get out of this whole situation alive. He was the only person; here in the middle of nowhere who knew where we were and how to get back to civilization or to help. And the second was to find out who he was reporting to. The person who had betrayed me. It had to be either Kevin or Bruce.

I needed to know and to know badly; because I had always trusted both men and I never even had an inkling that either of them was capable of betraying me in this way and wanting me dead. One of them had even been my lover not too long ago and I thought I knew and understood them well enough to trust them with my life in whatever situation. I had obviously been wrong. Very wrong.

The fact the Bat-ears was unstable could be an advantage. I had to look for a way to direct his instability into doing what I wanted. Releasing me or showing me how to get out of here.

But I never really had time to think the whole thing through because we were interrupted by some noise outside.

Bat-ears seemed to recover and he quickly rushed out, closing and locking the door behind him, he went out to investigate what the problem was.

I couldn’t see outside so I moved to the door and placed my ears on the door to try and catch what was being said.

I heard several voices. They were speaking in a language other than English. It sounded like Kiswahili, the local language spoken by all tribes, but I wasn't sure. They were asking questions and I could hear Bat-ears replying.

It was then that I heard the voice. I had never in my life been so excited to hear a voice. I could not mistake that voice anywhere. It was David's voice.

"Have you asked him if he's seen the girl?" That sweet, familiar voice of David asked.

"Yes. We ask him. He asks if white woman can survive here?"

"Please ask him again."

"The woman you are looking for is not here." Bat-ears' voice, now speaking directly to David.

"Oh, you speak English. I need to say a few things and..."

"I'm not really interested and I don't have the time."

That was the moment I started screaming at the top of my voice. I screamed my lungs out calling David's name.

“Daaaavid, Daaaavid, that’s a lie I am heeere!”

My screams were halted by the loud noise of a gun going off. It was loud and it echoed in the whole neighbourhod for miles around. I knew it had to be Bat-ears' gun.

I waited, fearing for the worst and knowing that if Bat-ears had shot somebody, there was no doubt where the next bullet would be destined for – David and then me. I waited with baited breadth.

My heart sunk when I heard Bat-ears voice. He was saying something in the swahili language that I couldn't quite catch.

Then I heard the Maasai war cries.

Another shot rung out, but the war cries continued. I heard Bat-ears' scream once then everything went silent.

I waited again for what seemed to be ages. Then the Maasai's broke down the still locked door and helped me outside the hut.

Bat ears was lying on the ground in a pool of blood, with what appeared to be a snarl still on his dark face, perfect white teeth protruding. He had been speared to death and blood was still flowing out of the deep wounds on his chest.

Then I saw David. Or rather what was left of him. He was lying very still in a pool of blood. I rushed to his side and desperately started looking for signs of a pulse.

If he was dead, I had killed yet again, Bat-ears had pulled the trigger but it was I who had killed. Just like I had killed Shawn. But Shawn I did not love and David I loved with my whole heart. I had screamed and caused the man I love to be shot. The man I loved like no other man.

But then why had I lied to him so? People did not lie to those they loved. Please David, don’t be dead. Live so that I can tell you everything. Please God, let David live. I desperately searched for the pulse; I searched for any small sign of life.

Day 20 - Teresa's side of the story

I froze at the door, just a few meters from freedom, at least momentary freedom until this mad man shot me in the back as I made a ran for it.

Our eyes met. His eyes were red from all the crying, and now he looked more frightening than ever.

Run and take my chances? Or stay and take more punishment from this brute.

"Go on madam, make a run for it," his voice sounded so tired and defeated. "You deserve freedom, I've been an animal..."

"I-I wasn't running away," I heard myself say.

"Ah come on lady. I am not that clever but..."

"I was just shutting the door, for some privacy. Don't want people seeing you cry." The words came out of my mouth and I was shocking myself saying them. It was like somebody else had taken control, a very crazy somebody else.

But it worked. Bat-ears looked a little uncertain. Not quite convinced but he had enough doubt to half believe what I was saying.

"So what did you have in mind with an impotent man?"

"You're not impotent. We just need to talk about this a little. Do you have the time?"

"Talk about what?"

"Talk about the problem."

"I could kill you right now and cut you into many tiny pieces and feed you to the lions." But his voice was not convincing. I was no shrink but I now realized that all the tough talk was a shield. He used it as a shield. The violence he couldn’t control, that was clear and I wondered what the real source of it was. At least I now understood why his girl friend had never come back. If I were she I would not even feel safe far away in the States with this lunatic alive anywhere on earth.

"I'm sure you're quite capable of doing that. But if you killed me before I helped you, maybe you wouldn't have any other chance."

"Who said I needed your help?"

"You owe me an apology sir. You've just torn off some very expensive pieces of clothing that I had some sentimental attachment to. Look how you've ruined my skirt."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"That's better. I have some news for you. I know what came over you. And it is a situation that can easily be cured."

"Can it?" I had all his interest now.

"Yes, but we need to talk about it." I knew I was making some good progress when he sat up, leaning against the wall, and basically making himself comfortable.

I had read many novels and seen hundreds of horror movies, (few of my friends believed that horrors were my favorite) now that fact could just save my life. I tried to remember as much as I could about all those sick psychos.

“Tell me a little about your life.”

“You don’t want to know that.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Okay. How about this one? When I had just finished school, there was this guy who had a loose tongue. Started talking to the cops about stuff I was supposed to have done. I knew where he used to drink with his girl friends. He was from a rich family and all. I had a gun and I dragged him out with his girl friends. Oh he begged and begged for mercy and even his two girl friends offered to do anything, I mean anything I commanded, if I spared their lives. It felt good to have power over those classy girls.

“I shot them at the back of their heads one by one. The man messed it all up by passing out. But I still shot him several times in the head, just to make sure that he wouldn’t be telling any more tales. Had to reload my small revolver you know…” His eyes had started shining again and I wondered what I was letting myself into.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

With a really big effort I pretended that I wasn’t horrified to my guts about what he had just said.

“That’s very nice. You see, behind every behavior and action, there is usually a reason. A very good reason.” I watched him carefully and to my amazement the shine in his eyes subsided. What the hell was this? What was this guy suffering from? “When we get to the bottom of it, we will be able to cure every problem you have.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“All I need is your co-operation. You have nothing to lose.”

“If you cure my problem, I’ll get you anything you want, anything…” Music to my ears, but it was coming from the mouth of a lunatic, unstable man.

“Let’s talk about your childhood. Tell me something about your mother.”

“Oh she was very beautiful. She liked to use lots of lipstick. Crimson red lipstick. Laughed a lot and drunk lots of beer…” the shine returned to his eyes. …”drunk so much beer that she had a big pot belly, like she was pregnant. She pretended to love me but she didn’t, the bitch loved the men who were always coming into her room. They would enter one after another, one after another and I would hear the creaking bed, making noise as they went up and down and I hated her, the whore. I really hated her…”

He was now up on his feet again and coming towards me, looking like he had totally lost it.

“I hated her, I hate women and that is why I always …”

“Stop ” I screamed at the top of my voice. But it’s like he never heard what I said. “Stoooop this minute!” I screamed in a louder voice.

Then I did something really crazy. I tried to get a hold of his shoulders to try and shake him back to reality. My hands didn’t quite get to him. I saw the slap a split second before it reached my face and somehow ducked. He missed and staggered across the room, ending up on his knees.

Mercifully, the fall across the room seemed to bring him back to his senses. He sat down again, a look of hopelessness on his face.

I now wondered which of the two of us was more insane than the other. It was probably me, to dare try and play at being a shrink. I was a raving lunatic.

All my life I was never one to give up easily and even now, I started desperately thinking of what to do next with this hopeless case.

Day 19 - Teresa's side of the story

"I don't understand why I am making this confession to you, " he begun, as if still unsure of whether to tell it all or not. "I have never talked about this to anybody else. You'll be the first to know this little secret of mine."

My curiosity had now peaked. What could this possibly be? How was it going to affect my plan?

"But I guess it is a lot easier talking to somebody who you know will be dead in a couple of days."

That sent a chill up my spine. He said it casually, like it was all in a day's work to kill people, but tell them some shocking stuff about your life before doing it.

"Once, a long time ago, I loved this woman. She was a local girl. There was nothing that I couldn't do for her."

Now my curiosity was over the edge. This guy in love? He had to be kidding.

"We did everything together and we came up with the idea of looking for better prospects for our life abroad. We would pretend that we were going to further our studies in some university. It was the only way to get round the strict immigration procedures against Africans going to America. We planned everything but at the last minute something went wrong. We had arranged to leave together but it couldn't work. So we quickly changed our plans. We decided that she leave first. She would then get settled and send my air ticket later. I gave her all the money, my savings. Some of the money I had even earned by killing somebody, a hit job.

"To cut a long, long story short. She never sent the ticket. She got married and settled in America. Everything that we had enjoyed together had been a joke. An act.

I could see the fury building up in his eyes all over again and I shuddered.

"I felt so used. Like I was a toy in her hands. From that moment, I knew what women were all about. Bastards, bitches..."

He had really lost it now and sensed that this was going to end up with me very badly hurt.

"Women always, always want to use men. I hate that. So I always do it to them before they do it to me. Does that make any sense to you."

His eyes were really shining now, only the way the eyes of a totally insane person would. He reached for my blouse and tore it off with such force that even my bra was ripped off. I didn't even try to resist him, knowing that it would be totally useless and I would probably get hurt more. Still, he slapped me so hard that he drew blood. It trickled from somewhere inside my mouth and I could taste it.

"I hate women...ninawachukia, wanafaa kubakwa…"

I couldn't catch everything he was saying because he seemed to mix it with his native language. Closing my eyes I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

But it didn't. He was lying on top of me with his pants pulled down, but nothing was happening. I could feel his weight but nothing else.

After sometime I felt his manhood very limp in front of him. He started pressing it against me, but to no avail, the tiny thing was still very limp and uncooperative. After a while he rolled away in frustration and sunk to his knees on the floor besides me. His head buried in his hands.

Then I heard some noise coming from him that I could not explain at first. His whole body shook. Were those sobs I was hearing? From tough man Bat-ears himself? Impossible! My ears had to be playing tricks.

I listened closely. Yes, they were sobs all right. The big man was crying.

I was more frightened than I had ever been in my life. So frightened that I didn’t make a move to cover my nakedness or change my position. I just lay there naked and with my legs wide open just the way he had forced them. This man was a brute, a very sick brute. It was now clear to me that he was so unpredictable that I was extremely lucky to be still alive.

After a while, I recovered and pulled my legs together, covering myself with some of shreds that were left of my clothing.

Should I make a run for it? If there was an opportunity then this was the best one. My hands were free, the door was open, and Bat-ears was still sobbing on the floor. He probably wouldn’t even notice if I made a quick run for it.

But what if he recovered and followed me with the gun? He would brutally kill me in the bush somewhere, especially considering the mood he was in. But I figured I had very little to lose. Even if he killed me, at least I would die fighting and that was much better than dying like some scared chicken quietly waiting for it’s fate.

I slowly sat up, keeping my eyes carefully trained on Bat-ears. He was still sobbing his cruel heart out. I started tip-toeing towards the door. That girl who had left him would probably never know how lucky she’d been. I doubted that she was the whole reason that he was this sick in the mind. He had told only his side of the story. The girl probably had her side too. Maybe she saw something else in him, she wanted no part of.

I was now at the door, not caring about my exposed breasts and the tatters that were left of my skirt that barely covered me.

It was at that moment that I regretted my decision to try and escape hundred times over. That’s because Bat-ears suddenly recovered and looked directly at me, our eyes met.

Day 18 - Teresa's side of the story

I started making my plans.

Although there was very little that I knew about African men, my guess was that men were pretty much the same anywhere in the world. They reacted to women, whatever the situation. I probably had an advantage because I was white. I figured that it was going to be a lot easier than if he had also been white.

I tried to think of another way of getting out of this situation without doing the disgusting thing I planned to do, but I just couldn't. There was just no other way out but to seduce this bat-eared guy I just hated with the whole of my guts. It was my only chance to save my life.

But the doubts were also still there. He looked brave enough. But was he brave enough to ignore orders from those who had hired him? I had no way of knowing and that was just a chance that I would have to take.

"Can I talk to you for a short while?" I asked the next time he brought the Coke and slices of dry, stale bread. I tried to give him one of my smiles. The one that had never failed me with men.

"About what?" At least he looked interested as he placed the Coke and bread on the floor so as to untie my hands.

"Seeing that I'm going to die very soon, I've decided to make the best of the few days I have left."

"And..."

"I get very bored lying here the whole day with nothing to do."

"And..." He had finished untying my hands now and now stood over me looking intently at me.

"Can't we just talk and..."

"That will not work with me woman," he was now almost shaking with rage and I just couldn't understand why. "T-that is so disgusting that I could kill you this very minute."

I was relieved when he walked off, because as usual, he was still holding his revolver.

The shaky door to the hut slammed and I could hear the key turning. What had upset him so much? This man who had told me in no uncertain terms that he was going to rape me before my planned execution. What had upset him so much that he was shaking with rage? He had never left me with my hands free. Now I had done something that had upset him so much that he had stormed off, forgetting my untied hands.

Tears rushed with a ferocious speed to my eyes.

"Not now," I tried to tell myself in vain. I was soon sobbing loudly. Even this stupid bat-eared African man didn't want me. I was as good as dead. Nothing would save me now.

I don't know for how long I cried my heart there feeling more hopeless and desperate than I had ever felt in my entire life, but when I stopped, I had a splitting headache. The Coke and loaf of bread were still in the plastic shopping bag close to my feet. I ignored them.

The room was always dark, so it was difficult to tell what time of the day or night it was.

I heard the key turning on the door again and I braced myself for the worst.

He came in walking slower that he usually did.

"Why have you not eaten your food?"

"I-I wasn't hungry... but I can eat it just now and..." I started reaching for the shopping bag. He lifted up his hand.

"No. It's okay. You don't have to eat to please me."

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“That’s okay. It wasn’t you.”

I was still too scared to ask who it was then. He still had his faithful revolver in his right hand.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, but I guess it’s good to talk.”

I was confused, shocked, perplexed. What was he going to tell me now?



===============Words of Wisdom
How cautious can a business be and still end up on the receiving end of vioxx lawsuits? All of life is a risk so better to take calculated ones all the time.

All work and no play makes jack a dull boy. Take in a movie like Neil Young: Heart of Gold to relax.

Take a little time off even if it is from stock option trading.

Day 17 - Teresa's side of the story

My mind continued to race. I needed to think very hard. Harder than I'd ever thought in my entire life.

I already knew my fate. My kidnappers had spelt it out very clearly and I knew that it would only a matter of time.

"Can I do you a favor and tell you what's going to happen to you?" the African with a gun had told me the previous day as they brought me food, which was nothing more than a Coke, and some slices of bread. In the first few days I had not touched the stuff. But now I always ate hungrily. It was also the only time that my hands were untied.

He would usually stand at the door, always with his menacing small revolver and wait until I had finished eating. He would then tie up my hands again and leave.

As I ate hungrily ignoring him, he continued. "In our African culture, we believe it is a taboo not to give a person you are about to kill time to make peace with their maker. Do you pray? Or you people in the West have so much money that you don’t have time for God?"

Suddenly I lost appetite and stopped eating and looked in his direction. He was tall and dark and there was a shine in his eyes I couldn't quite explain but was probably from some drugs or alcohol. All Africans looked the same to me, but this guys' most distinguishing feature were his ears. They were big and round. Reminded me of bats.

His white teeth came out in what would have either been a smile or a snarl, I couldn't tell which.

"You're going to die. But before you do we'll have some fun with you. Ever had sex with an African? We're very good at it you know."

I resisted the urge to cry and instead in as brave a voice as I would manage I spoke out. "You're going to be in a lot of trouble young man. You wait until they find me."

He laughed. A ha-ha-ha-laugh that sounded false and contrived but could easily have been his usual genuine laugh.

"Find you? Who will find you here in the bush?"

"The police are searching."

"Which police? The ones we've put into our pockets? Or the American police?" He laughed again at his own joke.

"When am I going to die?" I asked in a very defeated meek voice.

"Soon. We're just waiting for some confirmation."

"From Kevin?"

"Now, now my lady. You people always believe that Africans are stupid. But I'm not that stupid to fall for such a cheap trick. You'll get all the information you need. In good time, just before you die and after having a very good time with me."

He quickly tied my hands again and left. I heard the key turn in the lock.

He was intelligent okay. Or maybe he had been doing this sort of thing for a long time. He was always very careful to tie the knots tightly and higher up the wrists. There was little chance of my working on them to free my hands.

What could I do? Was there any way that I could leave some mark? A signal for somebody, in case they were looking?

I had really thought the whole situation through and there was really very little else that I would do. At least for now. Later I would look for any small opportunity to make a run for it. Let them shoot me in the back or something but I was not going to lie down here and get raped just like that without putting up a fight.

My beautiful pink shoes, lying unworn near my feet would be a good, loud marker for anybody looking. But then how would I get them out there?

Being alone and staring death in the face does wonders to the brain. It helps you think very clearly and it helps you focus on solutions.

There were no toilets in this place so once every day, the bat eared guy would come and lead me out to the bush. He would stand at a distance as I did my thing. Even toilet paper was not available and I would have to make do with some leaves. At first I feared an infection, but by now I had either gotten used to it or getting an infection was such an insignificant problem when compared to rape and death. I was not quite sure which of those two had done it.

I carefully made my plans.

The next time he led me out I was ready.

“Why do you want to go so far out today, want to make a run for it? Don’t even think about it. I was a sharp shooter in the army, you know.” He looked at me suspiciously.

“Is this really far?” I tried to keep my voice as calm as I possibly could.

“I don’t know what you are hiding?”

My heart skipped a beat because I had hidden the pink shoe between my legs. “Hiding?”

“Yes. Why all the privacy when I’m going to get to know you so intimately that they’ll be no part of your body I will not explore?”

Relief flooded through my body, despite the chilling remarks.

“Just do it there, don’t go any further.”

I squatted in the bush, my mind carefully calculating. There was a low fence around the compound where the hut was. The compound consisted of about four huts. There was no sign of life or habitation in the other three huts. I was usually led through the makeshift bamboo gate out of the compound to a thicket about 30 meters out. I decided that the shoe, which was now in my hand should be hurled into the thick bush, right behind me. But to do it I would have to distract the bat-eared guy. I had already carefully made my plans.

I started coughing loudly and with my pants still pulled down, I turned and spat on the ground behind me while still coughing. My whole butt was now fully exposed to him. I knew where the man’s eyes would be when I coughed, and I took that opportunity to hurl the shoes as far into the bush as I could?

It worked better than I had ever hoped it would. He was still staring when I turned and squatted again.

But when I was back in the dimly lit hut, that had been my home for so long now that I had lost track of the days, a feeling of despair engulfed me.

What good would that single shoe do out there in the bush? There was really nobody looking for me. I had been told as much.

I fought the feelings of hopelessness and desperately tried to console myself. There was nothing else that I would do at the moment. The shoe was the only thing that I would think of and I had done it. As useless as it was, it was much better than doing nothing. Who knows, a native might find it and take it to the police and maybe David would be asked to identify it.

I now realized that the only person who could save me was the man I had lied to and cheated. The only man I had ever loved in my life and yet the man I had never made love to. My legally married husband.

If I ever lived through this, I would have quite a story to tell.

A few days later I heard a commotion out in the bush. Some natives were screaming what seemed like a war cry as they ran through the bush chasing something. From where I was I estimated that they were passing around the area where I had thrown my shoes. But they didn’t seem to stop and after a few moments the noise subsided and I knew they were gone.

I sunk into despair again. I was a wishful thinker, I chastised myself. I had always been a daydreamer. Nobody would ever find me in this hellhole. I might as well change tactics or I would die. My only hope was my bat eared captor. I started making a careful plan of how I would seduce him. I had no choice. I had no intention of dying.

EXTRA================================
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Day 16 - Teresa's side of the story

I lay on my back in the dimly lit hut, my mind racing.

Although I wasn’t sure who exactly wanted me dead, I knew it had to be either of two people. I still couldn’t believe that either of them would go this far. But then a million dollars was a million dollars, I bitterly reminded myself.

My hands were firmly tied behind my back, although my legs were free. What could I do? I would have to do something.

The man who wanted me dead had made his plans rather carefully. David would not be looking for me. He would simply wait for the 60 days to expire and then collect his cash. For all I knew he could be somewhere making love to some woman at this very moment.

‘Take control of yourself Teresa,’ I told myself. I had no right to such thoughts. After all the lies I had told David, what was he expected to do? As far as he was concerned, I was supposed to be dead.

I felt the tears quickly gathering to my eyes as I realized that there was no way that David would be looking for me. There was also no way that anybody even in LA, would be looking for me.

My mind went back to the events shortly after I had slipped out of the game drive mini bus. The plan had been that another tourist van, this one without tourists, which had been trailing us, was to pick me up. Within the next four hours I was supposed to be at the airport picking the first flight out and on my way back to LA.

The mini bus had turned up okay, only that I didn’t recognize anybody that was on it. They were all Africans. I immediately sensed that something was very wrong. Kevin was supposed to be in this vehicle. Where was he?

The three men and the driver put my mind to ease immediately.

“Kevin says we meet him later. We’ll take you to him,” the driver who appeared to me to be too young to be a tour driver, said. I quickly entered the van, grateful to be safe and away from the wild, where we had just seen a lion kill a gazelle with such brutality. I felt that a woman would have no chance at all against those beautiful beasts.

That was when I saw the gun pointed straight at me.

“We will kill you and feed you to the lions, if you don’t do exactly what we tell you.”

I froze in fear. Nobody had ever pointed a gun at me in my life. I had always thought that it was something that happened in the movies and the wrong neighborhoods in LA.

“Get down under the seats. Quick.” I obeyed and squeezed myself in the small space under the seats.

The van was now driving back in the direction that we had come on the game drive.

“You raise your head and I shoot you.”

The van was driving at a high speed. I felt a sharp pain in my arm and realized that one of the men had injected something into me. I didn’t have time to be too horrified because I passed out in minutes.

Day 15 - Teresa's side of the story

That first date with Shawn was not the last and three months later I found myself at a small ceremony signing a marriage certificate.

Wow, I can hear you say. You're right. It was too fast and too crazy like a lot of things in my life.

The marriage was brief. The real Shawn came out and I didn't like him.

No that really isn't the truth. I shouldn’t tell lies against a dead person. Yes, we had our fights but Shawn was a nice man. God rest his soul in peace. He killed himself a week after I left him for the investment banker. Just jumped out of the apartment window on the 15th floor.

Poor Shawn. Didn't he know that I would never trust another man after my high school sweetheart got me pregnant and bolted? Couldn't he understand that I would never really give myself fully to a man? Any man? Surely not after my heart was broken so brutally.

Well, I guess I never told him. The guy still appears in my worst nightmares on a regular basis. In fact one day when we were with David in the camp at Masai Mara and he had to rush to my bedside, I must have been screaming in my sleep. And when I opened my eyes I almost had a coronary because I though David was Shawn, back from the dead. They did have that small resemblance. Same height, almost. Same good looks. Same devotion.

Of course David didn't understand and I didn't tell him.

So back to that night in that hell hole. After David said yes, I did something rather strange.

I asked him to hug me. I really do believe sometimes that I am mentally insane.

Why did I do it? Was it to tease him further after that look of desire I had seen in his eyes? Was it to feel the power women feel over men in these matters? Or was it the look, something akin to that of a scared alley cat caught red handed, that he had when I felt his rising manhood press against me and reminded him that our agreement was that there was to be no sex.

I'll probably never know, because I hardly understand myself.

But despite everything things did not really go according to plan. I would never have believed that I would start developing feelings for David. But I did. Feelings I had never had before for a man, not even my high school sweetheart.

The man reached a place in my heart that no other man even came close to.

The whole thing puzzled me and I wondered what had brought it on. David was a nice person. Very protective. And I guess the fact that there was no sex between us, gave us time to develop the relationship in a way that would not have been possible, did we go the usual path.

That day in the game drive, I had made up my mind that I would abandon the whole stupid plan and go back to the lodge and make love to my husband and give myself to him forever, in sickness and in health in plenty and in lack…

Especially after that gentle tender kiss he gave me that had my whole body trembling. I never believed it was possible for any man to make me feel like this.

That’s the excitement that was in my eyes when we saw that lion kill that gazelle with so much agility and precision. That also made me fall in love with the African wild all over again. The place where I had unexpectedly found true love – at last.

I even started wondering what David’s children would look like when I bore them. I was past 38 but these days even 45 year olds were having babies. Modern technology was wonderful sometimes. It seemed to me for a moment that nothing would be impossible as long as we had each other. Me and David.

Then in one stupid rush moment, I decided that one more test for David was in order. What came over me, I will never know.

I decided that if he asked me not to go ahead with my crazy plan, I would obey and stay. If he didn’t I would go ahead with the plan. The One million dollars I stood to lose if I chose David also floated temptingly before my eyes.

With that kind of cash, I would be able to find myself a dozen David’s if I wanted them, I lied to myself.

In that moment of hesitation, I made my quick and wrong decision and slipped quietly out of the tourist van with David destructing the others as we had planned all along. I was to regret that decision for many days and weeks.

More so because here I was held captive in a small dark mud hut in the middle of nowhere. All I knew for sure were two things. That I was somewhere in the Mara. And that the people who held me captive would have to kill me because I knew too much.

It seemed that the lie I had told David about coming to die in the wild in Africa was going to happen for real.

Day 14 - Teresa's side of the story

With David it was hate, deep hatred at first sight.

I hated him the moment I saw his photograph. But he was perfect. Perfect for the plan I had in mind.

I knew David's type well. Liked to use women the way you use toilet paper. Handsome good looking guys who were responsible for at least two dozens of broken hearts by the time they were 25.

Just to make sure I was also looking for a loser in life and David was just that. The private investigator I hired to find a man for my plan was thorough. The idiot of a good looker had almost died from a drug overdose and had been taken into some city sponsored drug rehab program. To everybody's surprise, he had somehow pulled through and managed to remain clean for quite a while.

It was is dream to make it big as the next internet millionaire that probably kept him going. I watched him for a number of days at the public library in downtown LA. You could see the determination in his eyes.

It was important that he be clean from drugs. I didn't want my carefully laid plans being messed up by some junkie.

Men were so easy to manipulate because they were easy to read. It was all in the eyes. And I saw a lot of things that I understood in David's eyes.

It was easy to organize the “accidental” meeting that he kept on referring to.

Then there was that day when I visited that hell hole he called home. It was real effort for me to ignore the terrible smell in the place. I couldn't tell what it was exactly, socks thrown behind the bed for weeks or his unwashed under wear, I don't know. But it was quite an effort sitting there with what must have been a stupid smile on my face saying all the right things. I should have been nominated for an Oscar for that little performance.

In fact that bad smell incident almost made me reject him and get somebody else. I didn’t want that filthy smell following me across Africa. Somehow I convinced myself that there were very few things that good regular bathing and soap couldn’t cure. Thank God that I was right.

On that night in his hell hole, his eyes were busy. They briefly went to my thighs and it was a real thrill to see that there was interest in them eyes. Actually more than just a casual interest. It was almost lust. For a woman my age it was a real thrill to see that I could still do that to a man.

Yes. I knew his type quite well.

I took every precaution, even had him take an Aids test. Not that I would ever let him make love to me. Just in case, you never knew with these men. Imagine my carefully laid plans being messed up because I got Aids from this ex-junkie.

What I told him was of course a complete lie. It was the only way to get his co-operation. There was no way I would tell him the truth. That would be suicide on my part. Not after wasting away all those years waiting... waiting for the right moment.

I was taking no chances, even had a lawyer sign that thick agreement and as usual, I knew exactly what to do to make sure that I had him on a tight leash all the time. I offered him a miserable 50,000 dollars. He could not believe his eyes when he got the down payment of 10,000 to be followed by the balance of 40,000 only when it was all over. After he had accomplished his task. I must admit it I rather enjoyed having him on a leash at my beck and call. I rather enjoyed it more than I would have ever expected.

I guess the whole problem with my plans started with the fact that David reminded me so much of a man from my past.

Shawn, that stupid weak man who haunted me so.

It had all started like a big joke with my friends. He was supposedly the guy who could never get a date all on his own. You know the shy reserved guy who secretly loves women but lives in a fantasy world. The sort of guy who has the looks but finds it easier to pick up a hooker than to get a real relationship going.

So we set it all up with my two friends. He was a neighbor at the apartment to one of them. I would pretend that I’d fallen in love with him. Just to see what a man was prepared to do for a woman he loved.

The idea was that we would all meet for a laugh later and share the details. It was never to happen.

He was taller than he looked in the photograph I had been shown. And meeting him in person there was something about him. That something that attracts women. I don’t know how to describe it. That mysterious interior behind the dark tall stranger so to speak, that every woman wants to explore. Even when they know that it is a bad idea. Actually, especially when they know it is a bad idea.

After the wine I found myself laughing a little more than I should have.

Was this a set up? My friends had said that the guy had trouble talking to ladies. He was a little nervous at first but when he had got going I would have classified him in the exact opposite category.

I was naturally cautious the whole evening. Having had my first abortion and broken heart at the age of 18, I had no illusions about men, I understood them enough to know exactly what I wanted. I wanted a secure future and a man with plenty of cash to leave me independent and rich by the time the divorce would inevitably come up.

What was I then doing here with this good looking man in a restaurant four hours after the brief date was supposed to have ended?

Day 13

Lion hunts by the Masai's are just unbelievable events.

The warriors start by getting themselves all worked up with their screaming war cries and all. This is sometimes done with their dances. Or rather their idea of a dance. They actually make huge leaps into the air with their hands still firmly on their sides and their legs together.

As the dance progresses, they leap higher and higher into the air.

By the time the Masai set off they are so worked up that the poor lion being hunted down, doesn’t have a chance in hell.

The fascinating thing about these hunts is that it is a real hunt. Lions actually fear the Masai's and when they get the scent of one nearby, they will do everything in their power to get away.

The Masai's will quickly cut off a lions’ escape, surround the powerful animal and spear it to death with a casualty or two sometimes.

Loliong, the husband of Soila and Lesirma, Soila's favourite lover, were both on this particular hunt to track down a troublesome lion that had been feeding on Masai cattle for quite sometime and then disappearing without trace. This lion had escaped the Masai for several years but word had just been received that he had been sighted and that there was a good chance of cornering and exterminating him once and for all. Don't ask me how they can tell the difference between one lion and another because I have no idea.

The fact that both Loliong and Lesirma were going off on the same hunt, meant trouble right from the beginning. All Africans and especially all Masai's looked the same to me. But I could easily tell the difference between Loliong and Lesirma, they stood out.

Loliong was cross-eyed, while Lesirma had a scar across the right side of his face, courtesy of (you guesses it) a lion's paws.

I was told later by my source that the hunt went as usual and the Masai's (about seven in number) surrounded the huge beast that had eluded them for so long and yet fed on so many cows. Of all battles with the lions, this was a very [personal affair because of the huge loss this beast had caused to the Masai.

The beast was huge and complete with his shaggy black mane, he must have been a scary sight.

Loliong positioned himself very closely to Lesirma as both carefully aimed their spears at the lion. Loliong released his spear too early, deliberately of course.

That meant that the lion had only been hit by one spear instead of at least two or three on the first attack, to ensure that he was weakened as much as possible before the second phase of the attack.

A split second before the animal lunged forward, Loliong quickly moved behind Lesirma who was just releasing his spear. Because of the speed at which the lion hurtled towards Lesirma and because of the angle in which the spear came into contact with the lion, the spear did not penetrate. Instead it just bruised and hurtled past the lion.

Before the others could recover, the beast, still relatively strong had landed on Sirma and with one powerful blow from its' paw broke his neck, killing him instantly.

The lion then cleverly took the opportunity to disappear into the bush with Loliong's spear still deep in its’ side, and now starting to draw blood.

The Masai's followed in hot pursuit.

The drill in this sort of situation was simple. The lion would progressively grow weaker and weaker from the bleeding. It was anybody's guess, how long it would take for it to weaken enough for the Masai to finish off the beast.

It was during this mad rush through the bush that they found the shoe. It was brought to me when they came back to the village singing their war songs at the capture of the lion that had eluded them for so long.

I didn't need a second look to recognize the single lady's shoe. They were Teresa's.

They were the shoes she was wearing on the day of the game drive, the last time I saw her.

Day 12

These guys were really brave. Maybe crazy was a better word to describe them.

A few days after the lion incident, I was told that one of the five Masai’s had died and the other was in a hospital somewhere in bad shape but would recover.

The Masai talked about death rather casually. Actually too casually. They didn't even seem to be sad at the fact that somebody had lost their lives as they did this crazy thing of trying to corner a full grown lion. Was a human life worth that of a few miserable cows?

I found out that on the fateful night, about 4 lions had approached the village and were after the cows. The other 3 got away when the Masai’s emerged but they cornered the single one and killed it. But at what cost?

The skin of the lion and it's head now hang in the village entrance way (there was no gate as such), a constant reminder to me of the terrible events of that night.

But if I though that I had discovered everything shocking about the Masai, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Take their marriages for example.

Wives here were allowed to be sexually promiscous, as long as it was with the same age group as the husband.

All that happened was that when a Masai came across a hut where there was a married woman and the husband was away or not yet home for a reason, they simply dug their spear to the ground near the door and entered the hut to make love to the woman of the house.

The spear outside kept away all men, including the husband.

I realized that there were many married women in the world already doing what the Masai were doing openly, secretly.

But the same dangers applied and I did not have to wait long to see them.

Her name was Soila, and there was something about her that the Masai men found irresistible. Through the translators they tried to explain it to me.

They said that Soila 'smelled of sex all the time'. That's exactly how my translator put it. I gathered that that meant that when a man stood close to her, they would want nothing else but to make love to her.

This was all new to me. How was it possible for a woman to have a sex scent all the time? Did they mean the chemistry?

She also had the looks and was extremely attractive in the Masai way. Their women would pierce their ears and hung great huge earings on them that completely deformed the ears after a short while.

Soila had a lighter complexion than most Masai's and a cute gap on her front teeth. She liked smiling all the time and when she talked, she would keep on shutting her eyes, as if she was imagining something.

She was married to a young warrior by the name of Loliong.

I sensed trouble because I soon noted that on most afternoons one particular spear belonging to Lesirma, another warrior of the same age group, was always stuck to the ground outside Soila's hut. I also noted that Loliong was not very happy about this and felt that his colleague, who had his own wife, was trying to take advantage of this strange tribal custom.

His choices to deal with the problem were few. He would lose face as a weakling if he reported the matter to the elders. Murder was out because that would place a terrible curse on him and his children for generations to come.

So he chose to deal with the problem on the next lion hunt. They were not that frequent but he bid his time patiently until the opportunity presented itself. I was naturally not present at that lion hunt, but I was told all the gory details.

Day 11

You really need to hear a lion roar to appreciate what I am about to say.

I had read many stories about lions in my life and I’d even seen the MGM lion roar many times before, usually before an MGM movie starts. All that had still not prepared me for a real life full-blooded lion roaring.

I had been asleep and it must have been the early hours of the morning, say about 3 or 4 am, when some noise woke me up. I peered outside the low hut to try and see what was going on and what racket had woken me up.

It was then that the loud, chilling, ground-shaking roar of a lion reached my ears. I froze exactly where I was my heart beating so loudly against my chest that there was pain in my bones. It was at that moment that I realized for the first time that there was no real door to the hut where I had been asleep.

The roar came again. From the loudness of the sound, the beast couldn’t have been too far off from where I was.

What was I going to do? Should I scream for help? But where would the help come from? We were deep in the bush and there was nobody in the entire village who owned a gun as far as I knew. And besides screaming may just attract the attention of the beast to me.

I felt my trousers getting wet from my own urine. I had never been so scared in my entire life.

It was then that I heard the war cries. I knew they were from the Masai. I had heard that they killed lions but this was utterly crazy. The poor fools would get themselves killed. Slowly I peered into the darkness despite my fear and could just make out about five Masai men who had surrounded one lion. All they had were spears in their hands.

The lion was huge, well over two metres in length but my eyes were captivated by his front paws. From the hunting incident the other day where the lion had broken the gazelles neck with a single swipe from its' paw, I had learned to dread the power packed in them hands or front feet of the lion, whatever you wanted to call them.

The Masai’s didn’t seem to be too worried about this and were now carefully aiming their spears at the beast. Three spears were released, two hit the lion on the head while the last one hit where the heart should have been. They immediately drew blood. I almost didn’t want to see what would happen next.

Now the poor fellows were surrounding a wounded lion which was angry and much more dangerous. The heavy beast leapt at one of the Masai men at such lightning speed that I only realized he had lept when the man was already down. It was doing something to him with its' paws and mouth.

The other four followed up quickly and stabbed the lion again and again from behind. The now badly wounded lion turned again and with a single swipe of it’s paw, I saw a body flying heavily through the air.

The three remaining men continued to stab the now badly bleeding lion again and again with their spears. It lunged at one of them, but you could now see that it was losing strength rapidly. It staggered off into the night with the three remaining men in hot pursuit.

I stayed there for a long time, my whole body shaking in fear and shock. Why had I never heard of this before? Did the world know that this was what was going on in this part of Africa? It was crazy.

About 10 minutes later the 3 Masai men, now joined by what must have the whole village, came back carrying the body of the lion. You could tell that the beast was heavy from the way they were carrying him.

Still singing and screaming their war cries, they then proceeded to quickly skin the animal. I passed out.

Day 10

I figured that I had my best chance of finding Teresa by enlisting the help of my Masai friend. Somehow I blamed myself for letting her go ahead with her crazy scheme of disappearing in a national park full of wild animals.

This was despite the fact that I had only been obeying the strict rules laid down by the contract. One of which was that I was not to, under any circumstances, interfere, argue against, or disobey instructions issued to me by Teresa. Still I felt that I should have at least attempted to persuade her to change her mind.

Somehow I hoped it wasn’t too late and I prayed that Teresa would still be alive out there somewhere and that I would be able to find her.

Every day we would leave with my Masai friend very early in the morning and return late in the evening totally exhausted. My Masai friend would also ask every friend we met in the wild if they had seen a white woman. The answer was always in the negative.


Although a small ray of hope remained somewhere deep inside, as the days went by I silently prepared myself for the worst – finding her dead and all, with her body probably in pretty bad shape.

But even a dead body or human skull we did not find.

After a full two weeks of searching, I finally gave up.

Still, I was very puzzled. How did a white woman vanish just like that in this huge national park? Why hadn’t either the police or myself found any remains? By this time the story of her disappearance had been splashed all over the local papers one of which my translator had brought for me to see. So it meant that even the local people for miles around had not seen her. The game reserve was a huge place but I figured that it wasn’t that easy for a foreigner, and a white woman at that, to disappear without any trace, somebody should have seen her. It just didn't make any sense.

Strangely enough the article in the newspaper did not say that I was on the run from the police. Just reading the papers, even the local police did not seem to be interested in finding me. I found that also very strange. Or was it just a trick to draw me out of hiding and then arrest me? I couldn’t be too sure.

I decided to remain in hiding amongst the Masai for a while. The LA contract clearly said that I would have to wait for 60 days after her disappearance to collect my last lump sum payment.

I had lost Teresa, or so it seemed and no single day passed without me thinking about her. But still I was glad to be collecting the money.

The sad thing was that at that time I wasn’t thinking of much else other than Teresa. Had I used my brains a little, the first thing that should have made me suspicious was the instructions for collecting the money. I was to go to a Western Union office in the city center and collect the first two installments in cash. I was then to take a bus to two other towns in the country and collect other installments in cash.

That should have sent the warning bells in my brain ringing, especially after Teresa’s disappearance. But it didn’t. I guess I was too busy thinking of the woman I loved who was now dead. Instead of thinking, I was using my brain to replay, over and over again, those precious moments we had had shared together.

By this time I was getting used to living amongst the Masai. I usually slept in the low mud huts. The only problem was the terrible smell of the cow dung. The insides and outsides of the huts were regularly plastered with cow dung for a reason I didn’t immediately understand. But the human being is amazing at adjusting to new things and soon I got used to even that.

The food was a little trickier.

The milk from the cow wasn’t too bad, but I threw up when I insisted against their advice, on trying out their special drink, which was a mixture of fresh cow blood and milk. The blood was taken from a cow as it stood by piercing a small hole near the throat. The stuff just tasted horribly horrible.

Although the Masai loved to eat meat, they would avoid slaughtering their cows at all costs, so I was forced to send for meat in a small trading center several kilometers away. Most of the times I would roast it over a charcoal fire and I ate it with a loaf of bread purchased from the same trading center. Occasionally I would send for a beer or soft drink

I made a huge effort to learn the Masai language but it was not easy. At least once every two days the boy translator came and I asked as many questions as I could.

The way of life of the Masai tribe was truly amazing. Their entire lives revolved around their cows. Cows were the most precious belonging a Masai had. More precious than even their women. They protected them and from the stories I heard with the help of our translator, they often stole them from other tribes too. The Masai believed that all cattle on the face of the earth belonged to them.

Masai’s also had no qualms about killing a lion or two just because they had snatched away a cow. Naturally they had no powerful guns to do this, they used only their spears. More on that later.

In fact a rather chilling incident took place while I was in the Masai village that made me wonder if these guys were so brave only for the protection of their precious cows, or there was something else behind it all. I am saying so because although their relationship with women was bizarre it was not simple and straightforward either.

But then I’m trying to tell too many stories at the same time. Let me start with the lion incident. Yes, the chilling lion incident.

Day 9

I was now on the run.

It is a little complicated to explain why. In fiction everything normally fits in so neatly but real life is a little more complicated than that. Things sometimes don’t make sense at all.

I will attempt to explain the various factors and emotions involved.

The nosy African police officer helped tip the scales a little for me. He telephoned and mentioned something about giving false information to the police being a serious criminal offence. He had nothing on me but the same old bullying cop tactics that they use everywhere in the world I guess. I had never really liked cops and even this one gave me the creeps. Not that I was guilty. I had done nothing wrong but stick to the terms of a contract I signed in LA. But the problem was the contract did not allow me to talk about it.

This was not really the way Teresa and I had planned for things to go. It seemed that all our careful planning had come to nothing.

As I disappeared into the African bush, there was no real fear in my heart. I only hoped that I would find Teresa. That was probably the main reason why I was doing this crazy thing in the first place. The harmless police officer was probably just an excuse. Love made you do all sorts of crazy things.

I longed to find Teresa and to somehow talk her out of her intensions.

Yeah, I can’t avoid it anymore. It looks like I have to reveal a few things to you now.

Strictly between you and I, the fact is that although I had no idea where Teresa was at the moment, I knew exactly where I had left her, and it wasn’t at the camp.

Remember how we we hugged each other and all during the game drive? Did it not sound just a little strange to you? Like people saying goodbye to each other?

Well it was. Part of the terms of my contract was that I was not to reveal any of this to any living soul or I would… Sorry I can’t tell you that part right now.

But what I can tell you is that as we went for the game drive, I knew that I would not be going back with Teresa. The idea was for her to slip away quietly into the bush… to die. I’m sorry I can’t tell you anymore than that right now.

It was agreed that she’d do it during the game drive and I was supposed to pretend that she was still in the tourist van. That’s not a very difficult thing to do on a game drive when everybody’s eyes are out there looking out for some wild animal.

The blood in my room was all part of the elaborate plan (it was actually my blood). It was meant to look like she had been dragged away by some lion. We figured that even if they didn’t believe it, there would be enough room for doubt and the matter would just be left hanging there.

I must admit that when she took me through all these details in LA, it had sounded a little unreal and far away. And I guess my feelings for her were not what they were now.

God, I really loved this woman and longed to be with her. I had never made love to her. The day when we went past what I called the point of no return, something happened to break the moment. We were on the final stages of undressing while still kissing like there was no tomorrow when her cell phone rung. I ignored it and thought she would do the same.

She roughly pushed me aside and shot to her feet, burying her head into her hands.

“What am I doing? What am I doing?” she kept on repeating.

She broke into tears and sobbed even as the cell phone continued to ring.

My efforts to calm her down only intensified the sobs. Her bare breasts shook with her body as she sobbed.

The cell phone stopped ringing and then promptly started ringing again.

“Please Teresa tell me why you’re crying so much.” I said holding her face in my hands.

For a moment she looked up at me, her eyes still filled with tears. I will never forget that look. There was pity for me in those eyes, tenderness and bitterness at the terrible hand that life had dealt her.

But there was also something else I saw in those eyes. It was something that I’d seen often in women in my life. But coming from Teresa it was something I will never forget. I so a certain tenderness in her eyes. I saw love. For me.

We remained in that ridiculous position for a long time. Me looking deeply into her eyes, almost naked except for my underwear. She, completely naked, looking into my eyes with tears still rolling down her cheeks in torrents.

After a long time Teresa calmed down a little and went into the adjoining bathroom closing the door behind her. I could hear some water splashing around and then she came out with the huge hotel towel wrapped around her body.

“This must never happen again,” she said in a determined voice. And that was that.

So now as I slipped out of the camp quietly early that morning, I must admit that I had this crazy notion that if I found Teresa, out there in the bush somewhere, everything would be okay. She would abandon her crazy idea and somehow something would be worked out.

A couple of miles from the place where we had seen the lion catch its’ gazelle meal, I remembered noticing some small tiny huts in the distance. I now headed straight there, walking carefully in the bush and off the track, but at the same time being wary of wild animals.

It was very early morning and I figured that meeting a dangerous animal at this time would be quite unlikely.

He must have seen me long before I saw him. He stood majestically under the tree, his spear at his side, and a rather curious look on his eyes. He was a Masai, clad in the usual brightly colored cloth that covered only the front and part of his back. His member was visibly exposed to the elements. I can tell you that like most Masai’s he was well endowed. Cautiously, I walked towards him.

“Speak English?”

“Hapana ero uliza wewe nafanya nini hapa?”

We tried sign language but even that proved extremely difficult. Finally by trial and error I gathered that he wanted me to follow him, which I did. Feeling much more safer in the hands of this strange guide.

We walked for over 4 hours. I stopped him several times so that I could catch my breath and my legs had long started killing me when I finally saw a cluster of small tiny huts in the distance. They were very similar to the ones I had seen on the game drive. They were extremely low and resembled the sort of igloos Eskimos lived in the artic or something- except they were made of dirt. They were so low that you wouldn’t enter then and stand up straight.

Small children gazed at me as we approached. A very young child screamed in horror. He had obviously never seen a white face in his life before. His mother bare chested, hurried away with him. Her breasts bobbed up and down in a funny way as she went.

Low filthy stools were brought out and I was too tired to care as I sat down heavily on the one I was offered. My host exchanged words with another warrior for several minutes and then a young boy was called and given certain instructions. He ran off and disappeared into the bushes.

Sitting quietly there, I was glad we were under a tree as the sun was high in the sky and uncomfortably hot.

It took almost an hour for the boy who had been sent to emerge again, this time with another boy whom I guessed was about 17 years old. He was smartly dressed in black shorts and a white shirt.

“How are you white man.” The boy greeted me.

Thank God. Somebody who can speak English.

“I am fine.”

“My uncle no speak English. He bring me from very far. Want to ask what problem you have?”

“I am looking for a white lady like me. Has anybody seen her wandering in the bush?” I used my hands a lot not trusting the young boy to understand my English very easily.

He translated my words into Masai to my guide. Who shook his head and then asked another question.

“What is white woman doing in bush? She is mad?”

“No. I mean yes. She and I are mad with love for each other.”

The boy looked puzzled. I tried to describe in words and with my hands but to no avail. I was to learn later that I had been wasting my time trying to explain romantic love to the Masai boy. They understood love in a very different way here.

This famous and much-talked about African tribe have a very interesting concept of love, sex and marriage that would horrify any westerner but has survived for centuries.

Day 8

How is it possible to spend night after night in a room with a very attractive woman and not have sex with her?

You’d have to be either very sick or impotent. But when you were a full blooded, normal man and woman…

Yeah. If you had asked me that question just two months ago, I would have told you it was humanly impossible. It was just not possible. But then that was my relationship with Teresa.

That was what happened on our honey moon safari. There was no sex.

Yes, sometimes we kissed gently. Never too passionate. But mostly we talked. We talked about everything. Our lives, our past, our present, everything but the future. We never touched the future because we knew there was no future for us. At least not as a couple. So we made the best out of out of our current situation. Treasured every moment we had together.

We even discussed how we were both handling this thing of not having sex. Yes, we discussed that a lot and I can say I ended up learning something truly fascinating that I never knew before.

I learnt that delaying sex helped a relationship a lot. I realized that one of the reasons why many relationships never really had a chance of developing was the fact that the couple usually had sex too early. The old fashioned way where sex was delayed for the night after the wedding actually worked. This shocked me and I almost refused to believe it. But how could I when there was my own experience to look at as proof.

It seemed like such a long time ago that I had given Teresa my word. I later signed the 50 page contract with her lawyers. No sex. I must have been stark raving mad. How did I agree to such a crazy arrangement?

I remembered that even the professional team of nerdy-looking lawyers had looked at me in fascination as they repeated the main key parts of the contract, emphasizing the no sex clause. I even believe I caught one of them smirking when I looked up suddenly from my scrawled signature on the dotted line. Not that I blamed him. I was the crazy one.

Amazingly, the arrangement had worked. I enjoyed Teresa's company more than I had enjoyed the company of any other woman in my life. And it all went pretty much according to plan…

At least until one night when we came back from dinner feeling a little light-headed from the wine, delicious food and beautiful African music.

We had danced under the stars to a song they call "Jambo Bwana" it had a beautiful romantic, sexy African beat to it. "Jambo" was the way locals greeted people.

Those African musicians must have spent a lot of time playing music to tourists in the past. Their performance was magical.

We danced ourselves to exhaustion and finally made our way to our rooms hand in hand. I opened the door with my key and let Teresa in first.

“Now, have you ever, ever had such fun in your life David?” she giggled kicking off her shoes the moment we were inside.

“Yes I have. I’m bored to tears being with you,” I joked.

“Come here you liar…” she pulled me by the shirt and we both staggered. Luckily we fell backwards on the bed.

We looked at each other for a moment and then I kissed her. It was the usual gentle kiss but then she returned it with a passion I had never seen in her before. The magic of the moment was too much and before we both knew it we had crossed the point of no return and we were kissing passionately and desperately undressing each other.

I figured we were going to break the no sex rule for the first time. I was safe because I wasn’t the one who had started it. She’s the one who had broken the contract rule by kissing me so passionately. And she was still kissing like there would be no tomorrow.

I was too far-gone at that moment to care. But at the back of my mind somewhere I wondered what the consequences would really be.

Would anybody ever believe this crazy story if I ever told it one day, I wondered? A man and his legally married wife alone in a room, in the most romantic spot in the world. And yet having sex was such a big contract-breaking deal with consequences...

Day 7

There was so much excitement in the tourist van as we all tried to absorb what we had just witnessed. Nature and the law of the jungle playing out right in front of our eyes.

Teresa was more excited that anybody else.

“How many people in the world get to see a scene like that in their lifetimes. Or even in two or three lifetimes?”

“Has to be very few, Teresa.”

“Yes. And we are amongst those few. That little scene is worth more than the last 20 years of my life put together,” she said her eyes still shining with excitement.

I looked at Teresa having so much fun and wondered what it would have been like living a regular life with her, getting children and all. Would they have looked more like me or like her? I was desperately trying to clutch at something that I would be able to keep, forever. Something that would never go away.

Our wedding day came rushing back to my mind.

It had been a small ceremony at the African coastal beach before we came to the Mara. Just her and me. It was just a ceremony because her lawyers back in the States had handled all the legal stuff.

And what a ceremony it was. Not even a movie director would have imagined such a glorious setting. The palm trees whispering in the background, Teresa and I, standing barefoot on the almost-white dazzling sand. I was dressed in a neat white T-shirt and some beach shorts. Teresa looked almost angelic in a blue low cut top that matched the color of her eyes and some simple white shorts. Her hair had been made up with natural flowers still smelling fresh that had been picked moments before.

The priest looked a little surprised as he read the vows and had us repeat them.

We had tons of photographs taken.

Somehow I was still waiting to wake up and find that I was still in LA waiting to go into the library the next morning to check for payment notifications in my email that never seemed to arrive.

Afterwards we swam in the vast Indian Ocean and basically fooled around. The warm salty water engulfing our bodies.

I told Teresa about my early child hood experiences. She listened attentively as I told her about my parents and especially my dad. The struggling salesman who promised heaven and never delivered. He talked a lot about holidays in the Caribbean, and new sports cars by the time I got to college and he started doing better at work. None of it ever happened, the man struggled all his life and even in death. The cancer ate away at him for months and he died in great pain.

Teresa was even more interested in hearing about my mother. The woman who drowned all her sorrows and broken dreams in the bottle and became an alcoholic willing to do anything for the next drink. Including giving herself to the man, any man, who would guarantee her next drink.

Pretty depressing stuff and I had never told anybody else about it.

“With that kind of background it really isn’t surprising that you ended up in drugs,” she said thoughtfully looking out into the Indian Ocean.

I was rudely brought back to the present by the police officer.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with my wife’s disappearance.”

“In these sort of investigation, every small detail is important.”

Cops were the same everywhere.

“And it is especially important in this case because you are supposed to be on your honeymoon, why this strange sleeping arrangement?”

How could I even begin to tell him the whole story? From that strange night in my room in LA? Would he even begin to understand? I quickly decided that there was no way he could handle the truth and neither was I willing to reveal it to him.

“Not that it is any of your business, but my wife has a certain medical condition. She doesn’t sleep very well.”

The cop’s face showed no signs of a reaction. He just took some short notes in a small notebook and carefully placed it back in the inside pocket of his jacket. He started walking away.

“Hey officer. What about my wife? Are you going to find her?”

He stopped and looked carefully at me.

“We’ll try. The Masai Mara is a big place you know.”

I was left to solve a mystery of my own. How the hell had the camp staff discovered that we slept in separate beds? Why had they volunteered such irrelevant sounding information to the police? I just had to solve this one. It was important.

Day 6

“Please hug me David,” Teresa said opening her arms wide to receive me.

We were on the game drive in the Masai mara. The game drive we had both looked forward to so much. As I hugged her, I could overhear the German with his heavy accent informing the Danish tourist that we were the couple that were on a honey moon.

In my entire life I had never been able to put so much feeling into a simple hug. I felt like my heart would burst and I could feel the tears already starting to gather in my eyes.

God, I loved this woman. So this was what love was all about. What a pity that I finally found it in the no-win situation I was in.

My mind went back to the very first time Teresa had said those very same words;

“Please hug me David.”

It had been in my room with the dirty curtains in LA, shortly after I had said ‘yes’ to her crazy preposition. I remembered the moment in great detail. It now seemed such a long time ago and yet it was barely a month ago. Then I had been conscious of her soft body against mine. Her breasts pressed firmly against my chest. The guy in my trousers was already reacting and I was trying desperately to send a signal to him to take it easy.

Even Teresa must have felt him.

“You understand that one of the rules is that we can’t have sex.” She said too casually without breaking the hug.

“Of course,” I whispered as the guy downstairs finally cooled down and started behaving himself. I wondered what I’d let myself into.

This hug in the Masai Mara was different. Her breasts were pressing against my chest much more tightly than the other time, yet I was hardly conscious of them. Even the guy downstairs was fast asleep.

It is difficult for a man like me to adequately describe the rush of emotions I felt in my heart as I held on tightly to Teresa, tears now flowing freely down my cheeks. I felt a warm tender feeling in my heart that must have been the love thing people talk so much about. Yet I also felt terribly sad that it would never work out. About ten times worse than most people felt at the end of the movie, Titanic. It was all a kind of bitter-sweet feeling.

Oh heck, I’m not really good at this stuff, I don’t know if you understand at all.

Teresa looked into my eyes and tenderly brushed the tears away. Her blue eyes were misty and they looked deep into mine, reaching a place inside me where no woman had ever gotten to before. I wanted the moment to continue forever.

I kissed her softly on the cheek with so much feeling that we both trembled.

The tour guide/driver’s voice right at the front of the Nissan van broke up the moment.

“This is lion country, but it is not so easy to see lions at this time.” He talked as he kept his eyes on the dusty dirt track ahead.

“Lions prefer to hunt at night when it’s cooler and spend most of the day sleeping and lazing around. Of course if they’re too hungry to sleep they’ll hunt during the day. What I am saying is that it is highly unlikely that we will see any lions today. But even if we don’t, you will get a chance to see them when we get back to the city at the animal orphanage.”

We stopped to view a small herd of gazelles grazing peacefully. The driver switched off the engine and the German tourist with his powerful photography equipment started clicking away at the herd.

I picked up the binoculars to really get a closer look at the gazelles. I immediately sensed that there was something wrong. After the initial interruption of our approaching van, the gazelles had looked up briefly and then continued grazing. Now they stopped grazing again and most of them gazed in the opposite direction to where we were.

Suddenly the whole herd scattered in all directions. I shifted around my binoculars in desperation trying to find the source of their consternation.

I saw him when he was barely five meters away from his prey. I called out Teresa’s name, but kept the binoculars focused on the unfolding drama. The male lion covered the short distance with blinding speed and leapt on to the big gazelle’s back. Even before his weight brought down the prey, his right paw swiped across its’ neck with such force that I could almost feel it although we were almost 100 meters away from the action. The single blow must have broken the gazelle’s neck, because I saw it suddenly go limp.

The poor gazelle had no chance.

“I captured the whole thing in my digital camera. Tash will be ecstatic when I email her these photos.” It was Teresa jumping up and down with excitement and referring to her younger sister in Florida, Natasha.

The lion had by this time dragged his catch away into a big thicket. I grabbed the digital camera from Teresa and reviewed the photographs she had just taken.

I looked with fascination at the lion’s face just before it jumped on its’ prey. It looked so calm, so collected and majestic. No wonder they called him the king of the jungle.
The van was full of excitement.

“We are very lucky,” the tour guide driver was saying. “Although this is also the rainy season and a lot of gazelles are migrating across the plains making it very easy for the lions.”

“You mean it isn’t always easy for them? That was a very clinical kill we’ve just seen.”

“Oh no, it’s very competitive out there in the jungle. Especially for the lion. He’s a heavy, lazy animal and hunting is always very difficult for him. The big disadvantage is that because of his weight, he’s slow and relies on the short burst of speed to get to his meal. Very much like a 100 metres sprinter. In a straight race most of his prey is too fast, so the lion always tries to get as close to it’s prey as possible so that the short burst works.”

“Fascinating stuff,” the German said.

The driver continued. “Many lions die young. Either out of starvation or as a result of a fight with another lion. They are very violent animals.”

“Why do they have to be violent?” Teresa asked.

“Good question. Young lions usually grow up in a pride of about 30 or so lions where there are usually only 4 males. The rest are females and youngsters. The female lions do most of the hunting for the whole family. When the lion becomes of age they have to fend for themselves and a male will have to hunt on its’ own unless they can fight and kill the leader of a pride and thus take it over. If they succeed, they will then have most of the hunting done for them by the females in the pride.”


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