Chapter 17

The flight over Mapungubwe went off as planned. The husband-and-wife journalist team were model passengers, with none of the adverse gripes usually associated with self-centered, mindless agenda-pushing, journalists. They were simply placid and friendly. They better had been, the flight was free.

The flight lasted about one hour and fifteen minutes, with a half-hour fuel stop at Venetia Mine. The promised chocolate bought for Lucy was not forgotten. Okay, one for Lisa and one for Nadia too. One must keep up one’s esteem with the fairer sex.

It was on the flight back that there was an amusing moment. The lady journalist, Amanda, asked a question about the helicopter. I turned in my seat to look her in the eye and answer her question. Her reaction to me explaining my answer with both hands went something like this:

“So, while you’re talking to me, who’s flying the helicopter?” Amanda asked.

“Why, Lucy of course,” I said.

“I am?” Lucy asked, wide-mouthed, eyes like big blue water pools.

“Yes, the last ten minutes. Watch your airspeed. You’re losing altitude,” I casually mentioned.

“Okay Capt’n, I’ll use a little back pressure on the cyclic,” Lucy said.

“I thought you’re only sixteen, Lucy?” Amanda queried.

“I am. Dave’s going to get me a student license when we get back to Pretoria,” Lucy said, correcting the flight regime of the helicopter, concentrating on what she’s doing, an ‘I’m thinking,’ wrinkle over her pert little nose.

“Well, excuse me! You just look natural doing what you do. I never realized that you were flying until Dave turned around and used both hands to explain. You go girl,” Amanda said.

“Oh, thank you! Maybe someday Dave will let me fly his Impala jet,” Lucy said, grinning over her shoulder.

“You have a Jet?” Amanda asked.

And that’s how the interview started about the Impala and what we do for recreation. Off the record of course, but you know journalists. Lucy, however, did not mention the little intervention in Botswana. But then again, she didn’t know much about it.

The landing at Kwela camp went without a hitch; Lucy sitting back and relaxing while I placed the little bird on the ground. I guided Lucy through the shut-down procedure, and she followed my every instruction to the letter, to the amusement of Amanda and her husband.

I glimpsed a photo being shot of Lucy in her motions of shutting down the helicopter. I wondered if that photo would make the article. Should do, not every day you get a sixteen-year-old girl flying a helicopter, even if it was only in following the real pilot.

Well, you do get sixteen-year-old student pilots. Even those that can solo fly, but those students need to be seventeen. Seeing a sixteen-year-old blond, blue-eyed girl fly a helicopter can be somewhat of a surprise.

With the; “Thank you so much,” and the; “We’ll see you around,” out of the way, we could consider what to do the rest of the day. Our little time here at Kwela camp was coming to an end. Only one night left of our vacation.

The five Angels, Laura, Tracy, Lisa, and Lucy cavorted in the pool, raising hell again in the water with their antics. Don and I had a “final look” at the two helicopters in preparation for the next day’s early departure. Funny, it seems as if the poaching had stopped. No movement was reported by Samson’s rangers, and no tracks were found.

“Well, everything checks out in order,” Don said, wiping his hands on a rag. “You think it is safe to join the mermaids in the pool?”

“It sounds like you’re afraid to venture in the water with them,” I chuckled.

“Nope! Never know what they’re up to. Especially with my battery acid and your dynamite together!” Don Laughed.

“Don’t worry, they’ll not drown us. They love us,” I said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of! Ever heard the term: Love you to death?” Don grinned. “Well, I’m not afraid. Let’s go.”

Arriving at the pool, we found the girls clustered at the far end. It looked like a big pow-wow was going on there. When Leah saw us approaching, she hushed the girls, and they all looked our way. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.

“Told you they’re up to something,” Don whispered to me. “Better play it safe.”

“Ah gee, Don, can’t be that bad,” I said, putting my towel down on a lounge chair.

“Evidently you decided to join us,” Laura called.

“Yeah, Lucy was just telling us how you let her fly the five-thirty,” Mai-Loan said, but I had the impression that it was not the real subject of their discussion, and let it slide.

The moment we hit the water, the girl party broke up, with Lisa, Lucy, and Nadia splashing over to my side, while Laura, Mai-Loan, and Tracy advanced on Don. Darya, Leah, and Olivia got out of the pool to go sun themselves.

“We better enjoy this African sun before we have to leave for winter in Europe,” Leah said. “The snow will be knee-deep in Charmonix this year.”

“Isn’t that like, near Mont Blanc in France?” I asked.

“Why, yes! You know it,” Leah asked.

“Yes, I’ve got some friends who used to go there to ski,” I said.

“Is that another Chief Willy Wiggle Lance story,” Olivia asked, smirking.

“No! And you probably intend to keep reminding me of that pun I played on you, Olivia,” I shot back.

That got puzzled looks from everyone else.

“Yes, I will. Until you come up with another one of your wisecracks,” Olivia retorted.

“Chief Willy Wiggle Lance? Tell me,” Don said, smiling.

“He told me of his friend in Missouri, turned out to be Sir William Shakespeare. He forgot I used to dream up names for operations. I can play with words too,” Olivia laughed. “But it was good. I still wonder, whose lance was ... wiggling...” and she smirked.

Laughter burst out, but I just dove under the water. Couldn’t let them see me blushing.

When the elephants came down from the plains to drink at the pool, we got out and slowly moseyed back to the main camp. Alerted now, I observed how Nadia seemed to be close to Lisa, Lucy, and me. Coincidence: was she was forming a close bond with Lisa and Lucy; or was it to be near me?

Supper came to be enjoyed at the boma; that circular screened area with the big bonfire in the middle. Amanda and her husband had left earlier in the afternoon, going on to the Mashatu Game Reserve and then to the Northern Tuli Game Reserve. Both were in Botswana.

As this was our last night in Kwela Camp, Samson and his staff provided a superb meal, consisting of barbecued springbuck steaks, corn on the cob, and mixed (or local?) vegetables.

Of course, the meal was not complete without the traditional African “pap.” (Afrikaans word “pap” is taken from Dutch and means “porridge”) It is also known by different names like Putu, Mealiepap, gauli, gima. Pap is a type of maize flour porridge made in Africa. It resembles mashed potatoes, only from the flour of ground white maize corn, cooked to produce a white, slightly stiff mixture. Because it is filling it is a staple food of the African peoples of Southern Africa. It is cooked only with salt, but you could always cream it by stirring in a spoonful of butter; real butter, not margarine. Some prefer to add a dollop of sugar, with or without the butter.

I was filled by the meal and was enjoying an after-meal coffee when Lucy sidled up to me, a smile on her lips, the firelight reflecting little sparkles from her blue eyes.

“I’ll stay over with Nadia tonight,” Lucy said, flicking her blond hair over her shoulder.

“And Lisa, I suppose,” I said.

“Nope. Lisa will be taking over my bed in the hut,” Lucy said, the smile still on her lips.

“So, you and Nadia together, and Lisa with me. In the hut, alone.”

“You can always move the two beds together. It’s cold here at night. You could share your body heat with her. Keep her warm...” Lucy said, got up, and gave me a peck on the cheek. “See you in the morning, and ... Sleep well.”

“G’nite Lucy. You sleep well too,” I said, Lucy then leaned over to me, whispering in my ear; “Catch me, catch me if you can...” Giggle. And with that, she pulled away, waved at Nadia, and walked away.

I caught Lisa’s eye, as she sat speaking to Laura and Mai-Loan. Lisa looked over to where I sat, and smiled a shy little smile, winking at me and then, blowing me a kiss. Oh, Boy!!

Don and I talked for a while about getting the new air venture off the ground. There were a million things to consider. The acquisition of a bigger aircraft, either a lease or an outright purchase, was an issue to think about.

Don wanted to purchase the aircraft. Leasing would cost us more than if we outright owned it. Besides, if the aircraft is pre-owned, we could just pay the outstanding balance at the bank. With a bank loan for the purchase, we could pay off the PC-12 as well. Don like this idea, and he could not wait to get his hands on the flight controls of the PC-12.

Don has rented the aircraft from me a couple of times, but now he’d be part owner. A great feeling, ain’t it?

I was just a little worried about the Boeing, because it’s more complex than the PC-12 or Don’s PC-24 that he flies regularly. A lot more complex, and a lot bigger. That thing takes twenty-five tons of fuel in one go! Not your average PC-24, Impala, or Buccaneer.

There were a lot of logistics to be attended to before the new air service would be airborne.

Lucy also needs to get her act together and get some idea of how she’s going to have her little venture functioning. Olivia indicated that she’d buy some shares in Lucy’s business, and, as a shareholder she can guide Lucy for a while until she learns the ropes.

Don announced that he was tired after the day of swimming. He’d overdone the exercise and needed his beauty sleep. He got up and went over to Laura, bidding me a good night.

I was savoring the last swallow of my coffee when Lisa came over to my side and sat down close to me. Before I could say something, she smiled and said:

“It was a long day. I feel like turning in,” and she smiled a shy, schoolgirl-like smile.

Maybe I just fell into a trap, but I responded with: “You’re right. It was a long day. I feel like turning in too,”

She placed her hand on my arm, still smiling like a shy schoolgirl, reached up and whispered in my ear:

“Catch me, catch me if you can. Take a chance with me today, or I’ll turn and run away ... Catch me, catch me if you can...” And with that, she got up and while looking over her shoulder, walked off in the direction of my hut.

I sat stunned. I suddenly wondered if this was a conspiracy. Why did Lucy and Lisa use the same words? Interesting.

I got up, sighed, and walked away towards my hut, waving a good night to everybody who were still enjoying the last of the evening, although I saw Tracy and Laura yawning discreetly behind their hands. As I passed Nadia she reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me down to her level. She smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

“Catch me, catch me if you can. I won’t be around forever...” And she kissed me on the cheek. “G’nite Dave, sleep tight...” Fluttering her eyelashes.

Then I understood. it was not a conspiracy. It was a consensus. Or a conscientious conspiracy between them. Why else would they, all three of them, use some old Brotherhood of Man song lyrics, and not mean it? A joint agreement between the three girls. I’ll have to find some good vitamins.

With that thought still lingering in my mind, the little shoulder devil came and whispered in my ear with that grumpy old voice: “ ... I’ll stick my fork in ... You’re fried. Done, near cremated ... But don’t worry ... The vet will pull you through!”

I stepped into the hut. Lisa was sitting in a chair, dressed in a robe, her hands folded in her lap. She looked at me with those big brown eyes.

“Lucy and Nadia said that it gets cold here at night. You should keep me warm.”

“I can only do that if we’re in the same bed,” I said.

“Then let’s choose one,” she smiled.

I opened my arms and Lisa was in them in no time flat. Pressing close to me, she reached up and snaked her arms around my neck. I felt her slightly trembling, firm body against mine.

“Lisa...”

“Shut up,” she said, kissing me full on the lips; a long lingering passionate kiss. I could smell her perfume, soft and feminine. Her hair smelled like the earthy scent of the rain on the open savannah, petrichor, mixed with gardenia flowers and wild basil, the smell of Africa, early morning, after the rain. I could feel her heartbeat, beating rhythmically like the thunder on the plains of Africa. I looked down into the dark brown pools of her eyes, sparkling in the room light with anticipation, love, and desire.

I kissed her like I wanted to kiss her from the first day we met. I love this girl. She just wormed herself into my heart from the first time I saw her at the airport at Venetia Mine, seeing her care for the little elephants and hearing her play the piano. And I so nearly lost her to a car accident.

“Blow out the candle,” Lisa said when we eventually came up for air. “Then get with the program.”

As Lisa said that, she pulled the tie of the belt holding her robe around her waist, shrugged her shoulders and the robe fell away, dropping to her small feet, leaving her nude. I have never seen a girl like that. Slim, firm, almost boyish and athletic, beautiful. Her B-cup breasts were without a hint of sag. I thought I was dreaming. Have I died and gone to heaven?

“I said, blow out the candle and join the program,” Lisa whispered, and then giggled.

“Yes.” I managed to hoarsely say, reaching for the light switch of the main light, and switching it off, I could not take my eyes off her. She was beautiful.

The only light in the room was that of the little bedside lamp next to the bed. I held out my hand, and Lisa took it.

“I love you, Dave. More than you can imagine...” Lisa softly said.

“I love you more, Lisa.”

“Then, make me hear colours...” Kiss. “I’m your music, your song ... Play me...”

Early after sunrise and a small breakfast, our party started the trek back to civilization. An almost five-hundred-kilometre drive meant that Leah, Olivia, and Darya would join Lisa in the bakkie to drive to Pretoria. Don had his three girls with him, and I ended up with only Lucy and Nadia to fly home.

We bid Samson goodbye and promised to visit back soon. The rangers we met and worked with during our time in Mapungubwe were all at hand to bid us safe travel and a speedy return.

Lisa and her party set out with an hour’s start. We would follow later and fly directly to Don’s airfield. Lisa had three drivers with her, so one of the others will take over from her when she gets tired. I anticipated that Leah or Olivia would take over soon; we didn’t get much sleep last night. Talking, you know. Telling each other our life stories. Where we grew up, went to school, starting life ... that kind of thing. (Okay. Yeah ... You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to.)

Start-up was just after ten, with Don taking off first, followed by my group. We flew in loose formation at 8500 feet, the landscape passing at a ground speed of 220 kilometres per hour, or just about an hour and fifty minutes to home.

Forty minutes into the flight I spotted the blue Ford on the winding hi-way beneath. Don had an idea, and we went down to 50 feet above ground level and approached the bakkie from the rear, on both sides of the bakkie, Don to the left and I to the right.

There was a mad waving from the bakkie as both helicopters slotted in next to the bakkie, matching the 120 kilometres an hour Lisa was driving.

Keeping well above the utility lines next to the road, we matched Lisa’s speed and flew alongside for a kilometre or three to the amusement of some other sparse traffic on the road. We then waved goodbye, and pulled up, back to 8500 feet and home. We’d be there long before Lisa. Might as well see to it that the girls in the bakkie get some good food when they arrive. They would be hungry and tired.

(I wonder what is Daiki up to?)

Daiki ran into a brick wall. He felt frustrated. Nobody could give him any information on the silver jet. He tried to get to the registered owner, but that guy was out of the country on a vacation to Europe. Why now? Why did he have to decide on going on a vacation right now?