Shallow Breath

IV


LARA LOGAN: And did it surprise you, that they [the chimpanzees] could be so cruel?

DR JANE GOODALL: It did, I thought they were like us but nicer.

LARA LOGAN: And they’re not?

DR JANE GOODALL: No, they’re just like us.

INTERVIEW ON SIXTY MINUTES,

OCTOBER 2010





WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?

She can barely hear the question any longer. The boat is right beside her; she is floundering in its wake. Her ears are flooded by the eager roar of the motor and the shouts of angry men. The hard line of the bow comes into the corner of her vision. A pole of some kind is held out, but before she can grab it she is struck on the back.

The pain is excruciating. Every muscle is screaming. Each breath is fire in her lungs. The cold is slowly leeching into her; she can barely feel her fingers and toes. And yet, the desire for her freedom eclipses it all. Body and mind no longer exist – they have been streamlined into one single goal.

At the point she should quit, she is overtaken by something greater.

Life begins fighting for itself with everything it’s got.





36

Connor




Connor watches out the window in awe as his plane flies low towards South Luangwa. His eye follows the meandering line of the river and its oxbow lakes, then moves on over the spread of bushveld, with its rocky outcrops. At one point, he makes out some small grey boulders that appear to be moving. Wild elephants, he thinks, thrilled.

The plane bounces onto the runway at Mfuwe and taxis over to the small airport building. As soon as Connor steps out, the searing heat ignites his senses and turns his lungs to cardboard. He is dizzied by it, and by exhaustion. He hasn’t stopped travelling for a week.

He hurries across the tarmac and inside to collect his bag. There is no formal set-up; the luggage is being brought in by porters and stacked in a row against the wall. He finds his bag and has begun to glance around for someone to help him when he hears his name being called.

‘Connor!’ Elizabeth rushes forward into his arms, and he drops his bag and returns the embrace. She is wearing a white T-shirt and trousers, but in her long hair he catches the mingled scents of sweat and dust. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Dad shouldn’t have asked you to come, but it’s really good to see you,’ she says, picking up his bag, and turning for the exit. He hurries after her, glancing briefly at a large black-and-white mural of elephants. Outside, people hang around in small groups, watching them curiously. Elizabeth throws his bag into the back of an old open-topped jeep, and climbs in.

He goes around to the other side and follows suit.

‘Is Kate all right?’ she asks, as she starts the engine and begins to reverse out of the space.

‘She’s fine,’ Connor says. ‘Though I didn’t get much chance to see her.’

‘I miss her so much,’ Elizabeth replies, her voice rattling as she drives fast down the uneven road.

‘How long are you planning on staying?’

‘I want to help them through this crisis, and see if there’s anything I can do to get them on their feet again. I spent a year of my life here, and I’ve spent the last six raising money for the place. I can’t bear to stand by and watch it end like this.’

He can hear the high emotion in her words. ‘I know,’ he says, patting her hand as it grips the gearstick. He searches around for something to lighten the mood. ‘Nice wheels’ is the best he can do.

‘I’ve borrowed this from a local hotel,’ she explains. ‘They’ve been very kind to the sanctuary staff. They used to bring tourists over all the time to see the elephants. Everyone is devastated.’

They fall silent after that. Connor watches the scenery, trying to absorb so much that’s tantalising and new. They pass fields of cotton, cows grazing on the verges, and a few women walking along the roadside, their babies in slings on their backs. They overtake a man riding a bicycle with a large bundle of twigs strapped to the back and a chicken perched on top of it. In the villages, a few brick buildings stand close to clusters of mud-walled thatched huts, while women work pounding maize or cassava, heaving their long poles into the huge mortars. A goat bleats as they speed by, pulling at the limits of its tether.

On the outskirts of one village, they slow to allow a group of boys playing soccer to clear the road.

‘What’s that?’ Connor asks, as one of them scoops up the unusual-looking ball.

‘They wrap their socks in twine,’ Elizabeth replies as she waves at the curious children, before putting her foot on the gas again.

Shortly afterwards they pull up in front of a large, wooden, thatched building. ‘Here’s the office,’ Elizabeth says. ‘What’s left of it, anyway. This is where we sleep.’

Connor grabs his bag and follows her inside. There’s nothing to see except an empty desk, a couple of chairs, an old fan, some trailing loose wires and two sleeping bags on mats on the floor. ‘They took everything,’ Elizabeth remarks sadly, looking around. ‘They even picked up the whole filing cabinet, with all the records in it. We’re still trying to piece things together.’

She pauses for a moment, then beckons him forward. ‘Come through and see the view.’

At the far side of the office, a small balcony looks over a grassy plain. In front of a line of trees is a large, still lake. The landscape is surprisingly green, Connor thinks, as Elizabeth hands him binoculars. He peers a little closer at the water. ‘Is that …?’

‘A hippo, yes. He’s been here for a few days. There used to be a double electric fence running around this perimeter,’ she explains. ‘Twenty kilometres of it in all. But after the raid the funds dried up, and when it stopped working some parts of it got pulled down. All the elephants are gone. A few are dead already, and we’ve got trackers busy locating the others. I’ve offered to stay here so that Bullo can go out in the field with them. I’m keeping records of every report I receive on the animals’ whereabouts, so that we can round them up if we can get this place going again. But it’s a nightmare when they’re permanently on the move.’

‘And what about Mali and her gang?’ Connor asks softly, knowing the special place they hold in Elizabeth’s heart.

‘We’re still trying to find them. Though I can guess which direction they’ll have gone if they’re heading to their old stomping ground, and it isn’t good.’ She sits down on the dusty wooden floor and puts her head in her hands. ‘Sometimes I wonder what the point is. Seven long years of hard work, and it ends like this.’

‘Hey.’ He kneels down on the floor next to her. ‘It’s not over yet. And it doesn’t take away what you achieved in that time.’

‘Doesn’t it feel like we’re delaying the inevitable?’

‘If you look at it that way,’ he says. ‘But there’s nothing more rewarding than prolonging it – and at least giving everything a fighting chance.’

In the late afternoon, Connor naps while Elizabeth waits by the telephone. It doesn’t ring, but he hears people coming and going at times, and hushed, tense conversation. He wakes at dusk, and Elizabeth shows him to an outdoor toilet where he has a half-hearted wash using a bucket and towel. When he comes in again, Elizabeth is on the balcony, and they watch in silence as the blood-red sun dips lower and lower in the sky. In the background, Connor can hear the distant rhythm of drums.

When they go inside, Elizabeth lights two lamps using matches, and sets a few mosquito coils burning. She pulls over a foam esky and hands him a plate. ‘That’s called nshima,’ she says, pointing to what looks like mashed potato. ‘It’s maize and corn, one of the staples here. The rest of it is mixed vegetables and sauce. And I did get hold of a couple of these,’ she adds, pulling out two bottles of Mosi beer.

‘Awesome,’ Connor says, grabbing one and opening it, taking a long swig.

‘So how was Australia?’ she asks, beginning to eat.

‘Actually’ – Connor can feel his smile creeping wider as he thinks of Desi – ‘I met someone who seems to be as nuts about dolphins as I am.’

Elizabeth laughs. ‘She’s perfect for you, then.’

‘Yeah … the only thing is, I’m in America, she’s in Australia. Not easy.’

‘You’re in Africa, actually, Connor,’ Elizabeth reminds him playfully, and he shakes his head in disbelief. ‘But I know you – when you’re determined, you’ll make it work. And what about your study – you know, what you actually went there to do?’

Connor puts down his plate and sits back. ‘Yeah, it’s incredible. It’s like I’m standing at the tip of an iceberg and there’s no telling how deep it goes.’ He begins to explain his findings to her, and she nods enthusiastically.

‘You know, so much of what you’re saying is reminding me of elephant research. I’ve read some recent papers showing that elephants can “hear” through their feet. They’re sensitive to vibrations over great distances – and I’m talking fifty kilometres or more. I’ve seen an increasing number of findings on nonverbal behaviours too. There’s so much to learn, if only we have time.’

Eventually they settle down on the mats. Connor is too uncomfortable to doze in anything longer than snatches, and while he’s awake he listens to the noises of the night – the scuffles and scratching on the outside of the hut, the distant thuds and unidentifiable calls. He sits bolt upright as he thinks he hears a lion roar, but it doesn’t happen again and he wonders if he was dreaming.

He tries to imagine what Desi is doing right now. He’s a long way from Monkey Mia, but lying on a hard floor in the dark, listening to the sounds of nature, reminds him so much of those nights on the boat with her that he can almost feel himself swaying.

He wakes to daylight and the office phone ringing. Elizabeth jumps up to answer it and, as she listens, her face crumples and she puts a hand on her forehead.

‘What is it?’ Connor asks.

‘They’ve found Mali’s herd. We have to go.’ She is already grabbing her keys and rucksack. ‘Quickly.’

They spend a frenetic ten minutes getting ready, and run outside to the jeep. As Elizabeth begins to drive, she explains. ‘Our worst fears have been realised. They’ve wandered outside the national park zone – we think they’re in the GMA.’

‘GMA?’

‘Game Management Area. While they were inside the national park, they were safe. But the GMA is different. It basically means that anyone can go after them now, and there’s not much accountability. Sadly, elephants don’t recognise man-made fricken boundaries.’ She lets out a short yell of frustration, and swerves to avoid a congregation of startled cattle.

‘It’ll take us about an hour to get there.’

They turn off the gravel road onto a narrow, bumpy track, and Connor holds tight to the rail, weariness and hunger making him nauseous. Eventually, Elizabeth pulls up behind another vehicle. An African man gets out and comes quickly to greet her. ‘This is Connor – a friend,’ Elizabeth says, and the man nods. ‘Connor, this is Chibesa. We have to follow him – we need to go the rest of the way on foot.’

Connor hurries through the long grass after them, surprised. ‘Aren’t there lions in this area?’ he asks Elizabeth.

‘You’ll be fine’ is her brusque reply.

Connor raises his eyebrows and keeps walking. Elizabeth and Chibesa are a lot more adept at negotiating the uneven terrain, and he is almost running to keep up with them. At one stage, he looks up into a tree and is startled to see the hind leg of an impala hanging down, and a leopard’s half-hidden face watching him, eyes bright with curiosity. Disbelieving, he hurries on.

Without warning, Chibesa stops, and the other two pull up quickly behind him. He gestures forward, and Connor peeps around a tree. A little way off, in a small clearing, an elephant is busy pulling down branches. Beside her, a juvenile searches the grass, her trunk incessantly rooting for hidden titbits.

‘That’s Mwana,’ Elizabeth whispers to Connor in delight. She leans into Chibesa. ‘Are we national park or GMA?’ she asks him.

‘GMA,’ he says, still watching the elephants.

‘Damn.’

No one speaks for a while. ‘What are you going to do?’ Connor asks.

Elizabeth turns to him. ‘Chibesa is going to track them until we can get something worked out. We need to encourage them into the national park area if we can. And we have to get the sanctuary fence up and working again, otherwise we can’t keep them safe.’ She pats Chibesa on the shoulder, and he nods.

‘We’ll go back,’ she says to Connor. ‘Come on.’

They have only walked for a couple of minutes when Elizabeth suddenly stills, and motions for Connor to stop. He immediately freezes, his heart hammering as he watches her listen. He is half-expecting to see a lion coming racing out of the bush at terrifying, unstoppable speed. But nothing happens, and his frustration gets the better of him. ‘What is it?’ he whispers.

‘I thought I heard movement, and voices.’ She thinks for a moment. ‘We should go back to Chibesa.’

‘Why?’ he asks, as they turn around. ‘You think it’s poachers?’

She shrugs. ‘Could be. There’s strength in numbers. I don’t want to leave Chibesa on his own.’

It is obvious as soon as they see Chibesa that he is already aware of another presence. He has turned his attention away from the elephants and is staring into the bush. Then he suddenly races off towards a patch of trees.

Elizabeth begins to run after him and Connor brings up the rear. To his surprise, when they get there they are confronted by two men and a boy, all carrying rifles.

Chibesa and the other African man begin having a heated argument, while Elizabeth walks over to the Caucasian pair. ‘What are you doing here?’

The man puts an arm around his boy and stands straight-backed. ‘We’re on a game hunt,’ he says, and Connor jolts at the familiar North American accent.

Elizabeth leans closer to Connor. ‘They’re trophy hunters,’ she whispers. ‘They pay thousands of dollars to come here and have a few days of excitement, killing animals to decorate their mansions.’

As Connor watches the man standing proud, his rifle in his hand, and his teenage son resolute and defiant beside him, he comes the closest he has ever felt to wanting to murder someone. But before he can do anything, the ground begins to shake.

Connor turns in alarm to find Mali watching them less than twenty metres away, stomping her feet, her ears flaring. Young Mwana is hidden behind her.



‘Mali! Mali!’ Elizabeth yells, and Chibesa is so confident he even walks forward, but Connor’s attention is distracted by the hunting trio, who have all crouched and readied their weapons. Elizabeth glances quickly around at the sound, and cries, ‘No!’

Too late. A shot fires off, then another, and Mali trumpets loudly. The ground trembles as the six-tonne animal begins to charge towards them.

As Connor watches Elizabeth turn, he knows instantly what she will do. She has known this elephant for seven years. She has led her to safety once, and spent countless hours nearby, helping Mali and her family adjust to life in the sanctuary. Her love for Mali overrides all her sensibilities, and sends her running unthinking into the path of a charging elephant, and the line of gunfire, as though she can stop both. And when the elephant’s foot hits her hard in the chest and she goes over and is trampled, it is love that sends Connor after her.

He forgets everything except Elizabeth. While his ears ring with deafening gunfire, he races towards her motionless form. Nearby, Mali has slowed, beginning to stagger and lurch. The bullets keep on coming, and Mwana screams in agony as a ragged line of bloody holes appear in her face, trunk and chest. Without warning, Connor feels a hard, solid thwack in the centre of his shoulder blades, and finds himself falling over Elizabeth’s body.

In the moment before the pain arrives, he knows he has been badly hurt. A fierce drumming begins in his ears, rising and rising in a long crescendo as the story of his life plays out before him. The wind catches the tail of each beat and carries it away, while he sees the forest in his lungs; the ocean in his veins; the story of his life written in the twist of a cloud and the bark of a tree. For a moment he thinks he can hear the entire earth breathing.



And then a fire rushes through his chest, and turns the world to cinders.