An Inconvenient Elephant by Judy Reene Singer Page B

before sundown.”
    â€œDo I know you?” He squinted at her.
    â€œYou probably know my good friends, the Popes? They run ThulaThula Safaris out of Chizarira.” She flashed him a dazzling smile and gave just the slightest toss of her glowing red hair. “They can vouch for me.”
    He gave her a lingering look, glanced over at me, then at the jeep, then at Grisha.
    â€œI only drive truck,” said Grisha, shrugging. “I know nothing.”
    â€œWell, be careful,” the warden said. “I found oranges along the road. Looks like some tourists sneaked them. Crazy bastards.”
    â€œOranges!” Diamond feigned surprise. “I can’t imagine anyone being so stupid,” she said. “Your guides need to do a better job. I personally search my clients’ luggage.” She gestured at my suitcase with a stern face. The warden looked over at my luggage, and I pushed the cartons of oranges even farther back under my seat with my legs.
    â€œWe’ll be very careful,” Diamond added. “I know the rules.”
    The warden eyed the Rover, then eyed the oranges that had been kicked off the road by Grisha, then looked back at us. “We may have to close the roads down for a few days until it’s safe again. We can’t take a chance.”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Diamond agreed, while I smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t smell our cargo, since we were reeking like a mobile orange grove.
    â€œWell, don’t touch them,” he said. “If the tembo s smell orange on you, they’ll tear your truck apart. You can follow me back if you want.”
    â€œWe want to get just a few more photos,” Diamond said. “Then we’ll be along straightaway.” She motioned to the camera hanging by the front seat.
    The warden looked us over one last time. “Right, then.” He returned to his jeep and drove away. My arms and legs were shaking. Grisha gunned the Rover forward.
    Just in time. The elephants were trotting directly at us, hoping for another snack.

Chapter 8
    MY BRAIN WAS COOKING. I COULD SWEAR I COULD hear it sizzle cell by cell, even though I was wearing a hat with vents. We all were. They were supposed to protect us from the outright sun, but the heat that collected underneath was cooking my brain. Or what was left of it.
    We ate hot oranges. Juicier than normal because the heat released cascades of liquid down our faces, arms, and clothing. We tried to be careful, but there is no way to neatly eat an orange that is practically bubbling inside.
    â€œWhy couldn’t we bring real food?” I lamented for the tenth time. “I’m actually wishing for a bowl of sadza .”
    â€œFood is for woman peoples to pack up,” Grisha said sternly. “Grisha only plans for elephants.”
    â€œI didn’t know we would be doing this today,” I retorted. “And it’s not like we could have ordered room service.”
    â€œNo more complaints,” said Diamond. “We will cope with what we have.”
    â€œDon’t have,” I mumbled under my breath.
    Â 
    We made a few hygiene stops behind the baobab trees, which was much easier for Grisha, as he pointed out several times, than for me and Diamond, who had to balance precariously in a half squat, watch for snakes and predatory bugs, and pee as fast as we could push our bladders to empty.
    It took us another two hours, still rolling slowly along, still waiting for the elephants to catch up, then gunning the motor when Tusker loomed too close to the Rover.
    By now, Diamond and I had perfected a certain overhand throw, and managed to cast oranges just enough off the road that the elephants had to pause to find them, eat them, and look for more. The road was growing narrower, the brush denser. Large baobab trees blocked our path. At one point a large pond appeared just ahead.
    Diamond made a face. “Up for a swim?” she asked, but laughed when