Beverly Hills Maasai (12 page)

He nodded.

The wall separated our property from our neighbours’. I really hadn’t ever said much to our neighbours—a high wall generally discourages conversation—but I did know that they had a guard at their gate and all sorts of high-tech security cameras ringing the street. I figured that meant they weren’t going to be happy to have
any
stranger waltzing through their property, and quite frankly, I had trouble even imagining an intruder who would be stranger than Samuel … well, except for Koyati or Nebala.

“He shouldn’t be over there!” I exclaimed. “We have to get him back.”

“He will be back soon,” Nebala said.

“Soon isn’t good enough. Why is he even over there to begin with?”

“Looking for food,” he said. “Hunting.”

“There’s lots of food in the kitchen and—Hunting? What do you mean hunting?” I gasped.

“Looking for food. He took a bow and arrow and—”

“A bow and arrow? Where did he get a bow and arrow?”

“We made them from the tree.” He pointed to one of our very expensive shrubs.

I could see where they had hacked away some branches. Carlos was going to be furious! I had a vision of a battle between one angry Mexican armed with a leaf-blower and three Maasai with
kongas
… and now at least one bow and arrow. That would be one strange pay-for-view cage match, one bizarre reality TV show, and—Again, that wasn’t the issue.

Samuel had a bow and arrow, he was on my neighbours’ property, and he was hunting!

“We have to stop him!” I screamed out. “How did he get over the wall?”

“He climbed.”

“I have to get over there.”

“You want to go hunting?” Nebala asked.

“No!” I exclaimed. “I have to stop Samuel from hunting!”

I ran over to the wall. It was solid stone and close to ten feet high. It was smooth, with no place to grab hold to pull myself up. I raised my hand. The top was well above my reach. How had he managed to climb over this? I needed help.

“Don’t just stand there!” I yelled. “Give me a boost!”

Both men jumped to their feet. I was almost startled by their quick reaction.

“Lift me up!” I put my hands together to show them how to do it, and they instantly mimicked me.

I put my foot in and—“Aaaah!” They threw me up into the air! I landed on the top of the wall, partially knocking my breath out. I teetered precariously on the edge, struggling to regain my balance. It was a long way down in either direction.

I pulled myself up so I had a leg on each side of the wall to steady me and looked into my neighbours’ yard. If I could see Samuel I could just yell for him to come back. But I didn’t see him. The property was big—even bigger than our estate—but rather than being open it was filled with a tangle of trees and shrubs and bushes. I couldn’t see Samuel. I couldn’t see very far at all. Maybe I could scream for him—no, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t guarantee that the people in the house or at the security gate wouldn’t hear. I had to go down onto their property. Easier said than done.

I looked along the wall. Not too far off to my right there were trees that were almost right against the wall, with branches going almost over the top. Then I remembered why those branches went “almost” over the wall. My father had complained about how they were “littering” our property with leaves that were getting in our pool. He’d spoken to our neighbours, and when nothing happened he had Carlos cut off anything that extended over the fence and over our property. They complained—sent a letter from their lawyer and threatened to sue us. Nothing unusual there—sometimes I thought suing people was almost like a hobby in this country—but nothing more ever came of it.

That was probably five years ago, and they hadn’t spoken to us since. If my father hadn’t wanted their leaves in his garden I could only imagine how happy they’d be about having his
daughter
in theirs. Best thing was not to let them know that I was there.

I scuttled along the top of the wall. This was working, but it was working slowly—and this couldn’t be good for my Capri pants. They were far too nice and expensive to be scraped or snagged. There had to be a faster way, and a way that wouldn’t damage my wardrobe.

The wall was about eight inches wide, smooth and straight—like a balance beam. It was time for all those years of gymnastics to pay off.

Slowly I rose to my feet, my arms extended for balance, until I was standing. Foot over foot I moved, slowly, but it was much faster and more dignified than dragging my bottom along the wall. I stopped and took hold of one of the branches, grabbing it with my hands to test its strength. It moved, but it seemed strong enough to hold me. This would be my way down—and my way back up.

I swung one leg over the branch. It sank down lower to allow me on and I put my entire weight on it, causing it to come right down to the top of the wall. It actually now extended over the wall. Good thing my father couldn’t see that or there would be another order for Carlos and his chainsaw to roar into action.

I inched my way down the branch until I came to the trunk. From there I lowered myself the rest of the
way and dropped silently to the ground. Anxiously I looked all around. I couldn’t see Samuel, but I could see that this was more than just a jungle. From my perch on the wall the branches and leaves had hidden the manicured paths that cut between the trees. There were little decorative ponds that were filled with koi, like big, fat goldfish—big, fat, expensive goldfish. Some of those could have been worth hundreds of dollars … Was Samuel thinking about a fish fry for breakfast?

I moved among the trees. It was good to have so much to hide behind, but at the same time, not so good, because I couldn’t see Samuel … or anybody else who might be there. I kept moving along.

“Samuel!” I called out quietly, wanting to be heard but at the same time, not.

There was no reply. It felt as if my voice was being absorbed by all the trees. I kept moving forward until I could start to make out the house. I stopped at the edge of the trees. There was a lawn—long and lush and well manicured—and beyond that the home. It was big, made of a pinkish sandstone. It struck me as a little bit tacky. Pink was my favourite colour, but really it looked like some sort of overblown version of Barbie’s Dream House. I wondered if they had Barbie’s Dream Corvette parked in the garage.

There was a cat out on the lawn—a beautiful Siamese cat. Did Barbie have a cat? It had just come out of the trees and was slowly walking across the grass toward the house. I’m not really a “cat person,” but if I were to have a cat it would be something like
that—something exotic, perhaps a Siamese, or even one of those hairless cats, those Sphynx cats. I’d only seen one or two of them myself. They certainly got people’s attention. Not that my dog, Sprout, would
ever
allow a cat in his home.

The cat continued to move across the grass at a leisurely pace. Cats certainly have a sense of style. You could almost picture this one as a high-priced, high-strung, high-fashion model on the runway. The big difference would be that cats only throw up hairballs and not their—My attention was caught by motion in the trees just to my right. It was Samuel!

Thank goodness I’d found him. Now we could go back…. Wait … what was he doing? He was crouched down and he had his bow and arrow out—and he was aiming for the cat! The bow arched as he pulled back the string and—

“Samuel!” I screamed.

He started, and the arrow flew and stuck into the ground—so close that it startled the cat, which bolted away!

Samuel looked at me with disbelief. He jumped to his feet and ran onto the lawn, chasing his prey.

“No!” I screamed as I ran out of the trees after him.

He skidded to a stop and pulled his arrow out of the grass. I caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm. I shocked both of us when I pulled him to his feet.

“We have to go! Right now!” I yelled into his face.

“We have to—”

My words were erased by the wail of a siren screaming out an alarm!

I stumbled forward, pulling Samuel with me down the path and toward the tree that would help us over the wall. The wail of the alarm chased after us, the sound muffled by the trees but still loud and ominous.

“This way,” I said. “Just follow me.”

We raced along the path. My feet thumped loudly against the stones while Samuel’s made no sound. We reached the wall, and I bent over to catch my breath. I looked at Samuel. He smiled. He wasn’t winded at all.

“All we have to do is climb the tree …” I wasn’t sure which tree. There were a bunch close to the wall and their branches reached up and intermingled, so I wasn’t sure which branches came from which tree. Picking the wrong tree might mean not getting over the wall and getting caught. Picking
no
tree meant
not
getting over the wall and getting caught. Better to die trying.

“This one, I think. Let’s go up this one.”

I didn’t know if this was the tree I’d come in on, but it was the one I was going to try to use to leave. I jumped up and grabbed the fork of the tree, pulling myself up. I went up to the first branch while Samuel jumped and pulled himself up into the tree right behind me. I moved from branch to branch. I was even impressing myself with how fast I was moving. Fear was a pretty strong motivator. There was a branch leading up to and above the wall. It wasn’t that thick, but it was certainly thick enough to hold me … wasn’t it?

I started shimmying along the branch, upside down. I could feel it sagging under my weight. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but there was no way back now. I climbed farther and farther until I bumped my head into the wall. I looked backwards and then spiralled around, reaching up and out until I had my hand on the top of the wall. I pulled myself up, twisting around until I plopped down, right on top! I’d made it!

In the distance I could hear voices—loud voices. Somebody was coming after us!

“Come on!” I called out to Samuel, who was still standing in the lower branches of the tree. Was he afraid of climbing higher? Was he afraid of heights? No, that didn’t make any sense because he had a huge smile on his face. Did he find everything amusing? This was no time to be amused! Didn’t he realize how much trouble we could be in?

“You’ve got to get over here!”

He nodded his head and amazingly his smile grew even larger. He started scampering up the tree, practically
bouncing from branch to branch until he came to the one I’d used to reach the wall. He stepped on the branch and started to walk along it! He was moving along the branch as if it were a tightrope—no, not a tightrope; he didn’t even have his arms out to balance himself. It was more like he was strolling along the sidewalk. He took a few more steps and then leaped, flying through the air and landing on top of the wall! He wobbled a little bit and then regained his equilibrium and stood straight up.

The voices seemed to be getting louder, which meant they were getting closer, and I was still—technically—on my neighbours’ property because one of my legs was dangling over their side. I swung my leg over and started to lower myself down onto my own property. My fingers started to give way and I tumbled down, hitting the bottom and then rolling over, almost doing a back somersault.

I rolled back to a seated position. Samuel stood way above me, and he was doubled over and laughing. Glad I could add a little joy to his life.

“Get down here!” I yelled. “Now …
sasa!
Quickly …
epesi!”

He jumped off the wall, hit the ground, rolled onto his side, and then, in one motion, sprang back to his feet! It was like some sort of special-effects thing from a karate movie, except he didn’t have any wires attached. But we were safely on our side of the wall, and he’d done it just in time because the voices were even louder now … and coming from
behind
me. How was that possible?

I turned around. Nebala and Koyati and Carlos were
all standing around the smouldering remains of the fire, yelling at one another, gesturing madly with their hands. I got to my feet and ran over. They continued to scream at one another—Carlos in Spanish, and Nebala and Koyati in a combination of Maa and Swahili. I understood a smattering of the words they were saying but knew that none of them had
any
idea what was being yelled at them—although they certainly had a pretty good idea what was being communicated non-verbally.

“All of you stop!” I screamed as I stepped between them, but nobody did.

Instead they all began yelling louder, the words coming more quickly so they all seemed to blur together. It sounded as if they were speaking Spanhili, or maybe Swalish, and I couldn’t make out anything that was being screamed.

“Silencio! Usu!”
They all continued to ignore me and went on yelling.

“Could you at least all yell in English?” I demanded. “Then I could figure out what you’re all so mad about!”

The yelling match suddenly, surprisingly, stopped. Carlos looked as though he wanted to talk but the words just wouldn’t come out in English. He was so angry that he’d lost a whole language. His face got redder and redder and his eyes bugged out and—

“My tree!” he screamed. “They hacked up my tree, my
beeeautiful
tree!”

“Technically, it’s
my
tree,” I said.

He now looked shocked.
“Your
tree?”

“Yes, if you think about it, all the trees are mine … well, at least they belong to my family.”

“You? Your family? When was the last time I saw you out here pruning? When was the last time your mother sprayed for aphids or your father fertilized?” he demanded. “This tree, she is
my
tree! Those flowers … they are
my
flowers! These bushes are
my
bushes!” he yelled, gesturing around as he spoke. He was still angry, but now he seemed to be angry at me. I had never seen him that mad before—actually, I’d never seen him
mad
before.

“Do you remember when this tree was sick?” he demanded.

I didn’t, but I nodded my head.

“I nursed her back to health. Do you think I did that so some … some …
people
could hurt her, could cause her pain?”