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“If anything, it’s the other way around.” Marge snorted. “Although he’s more like those cat toys that kitties love to bat around. Glitter balls! He’s your glitter ball!”
That restlessness floating right beneath my surface bubbled up again, a constant reminder that maybe Iwas,in some ways, a domesticated cat. Like a caged cougar, the bars seemed to close in around me the more I thought about never getting to run free again.
“He’s not a toy, and I’m not his kept pet. He’s my husband, and I’m his wife. And that’s that.”
“Geez. Looks like we hit a soft spot on the big kitty,” Marge teased.
Not wanting to discuss things any further, I stood up. “Don’t we have a rule that we aren’t supposed to be focusing on spouses on this trip?”
Sylvie nodded. “We did say that. You’re right. We are supposed to be focusing on the here and now with each other.
“Exactly. So that’s enough of that talk. Now, since we’re done with lunch, I think it’s time to get back on the safari.”
They each shared a look, and I suddenly felt silly for how sensitive I’d been about the good-natured jabs. Normally, I could dish them out as much as I could take them, but for some reason, I was extra sensitive about the confusing feelings they seemed to have homed in on.
Pulling up a forced smile to diffuse the stilted mood, I waved a hand toward the direction of our safari cruiser. “Well, ladies? Are you going to sit there all day, or are we going to go hunt down one of my family members? A lion? A leopard? A cheetah? A jaguar? Which one of my brethren awaits out there?”
They shared a quick look, then all pulled up matching smiles as well and stood.
“Let’s go hunting,” Marge said.
“Look out, big cats,” Sylvie said. “The biggest cat of them all is coming for you.”
Doris furrowed her brow. “Wait. We’re notreallyhunting big cats, right? Just metaphorically. I don’t want to hurt the cute kitties.”
“Metaphorically, Doris.” Sylvie tossed an arm around her shoulder. “No one is hunting anything on this trip other than good times and good memories.”
She blew out a puff of air. “Oh good. Well, in that case, let’s go hunting!”
We helped Ndungu clean up our picnic area, then the five of us headed back to the vehicle. After taking us a short drive along the Zambezi River, Ndungu gently eased the cruiser to a stop.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Look,” he whispered, his finger pointing across the plains. “Lions.”
“What?” I sat up straight, my eyes searching the landscape for the powerful creatures. “Where?”
“Oh! There!” Marge said, and I turned to see her pressing her binoculars to her face.
I squinted my eyes, but all I could make out were small figures in the distance. “Give me those things!” I reached over and grabbed them from her, excitement bubbling up inside of me as I looked into them. After a few moments of adjusting my eyes to the new depth, I gasped. “There! I see them! Lions!”
The lioness strode across the clearing, her strides powerful yet lazy, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. I looked at the long, lean lines of her muscular body, and somewhere deep inside, I felt connected to her. For years, Iwasher. The queen of the jungle. The top of the food chain. An apex predator who knew no rivals. I took what I wanted, who I wanted, where I wanted and when I wanted. Even though I loved my life with Alejandro, an ache inside of me grew as I watched her living wild and free, unencumbered by anything. Free to do as she wanted. Go where she wanted. Hunt what she wanted.
I envied her.
“I’ll get us closer,” Ndungu said.
“Wait! Is that safe?” Doris asked. “There aren’t any sides on this thing! They could jump right in!”
“They won’t,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“But what if they do?”
He gestured to the shotgun strapped to the dash of the cruiser. “I won’t let them get to you.”
I sat up straight. “No one is shooting any lions. If it comes to it, just shove Marge out there. She can slow them down while we getaway.”
“Hey!” Marge punched me in the shoulder.
