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There were people stepping out on their front porches to stare. Go back inside, mother hen kept jabbering. This was a neighborhood, lovingly referred to as The Brothel, was two blocks east of the college bars. We’d seen our fair share of bush pissers and drunken break up fights. Every other weekend the stop sign was uprooted by some frat boy trying to prove that he had a y chromosome. And we knew if we found a tampon in the yews, there was probably a condom close by. ‘Callie, I’ll give you fifty bucks if you finish.’ Kevin said dodging the bullfrog. He had his hands up in surrender, and I was going nowhere with the front yard pitching practice. ‘A hundred.’ Was I a business woman or what? ‘I’ve only got fifty.’ Kevin stepped forward. His eyes were dark and there was a little boyish grin curling up the sides of his face. My butt was getting cold and I had run out of reasons why I was still standing outside. I stomped up the steps and back to the land of sanity and clothes. Aware. She experienced uncommon regret. He was just a beautiful man she had met twice and would probably never see again. Yet her stomach was filled with butterflies. Her teammate Kagema opened the door and slid into the driver seat. ‘Leona, are you okay? How do you feel?’ ‘I feel dirty, inside and out. The Elephant was really gross! I need a break, a little ‘me-time’ to purge the last few days from my memory and my soul.’ ‘There’s a remote safari camp a few hours from here, very posh. Think you can hold it together ’til then?’ ‘Sounds great. Let’s go.’ The TWS team exited the battle-site. The Maasai herders brushed away the departed strike teams’ tire tracks and moved their cattle away from the site of the snatch. The bodyguards were impatient. The Elephant had been out-of-sight too long. They followed his tire tracks beyond the hill. The tracks ended at the path of a cattle crossing. No car, no tracks, no Elephant. They searched around on foot but found nothing. A quick conference.
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