“Really? I wish I was a virgin again. The sights and smells of the plains and the Indian jungle are like nowhere else. I don’t even mind the heat when I’m out chasing a kill. You can lose yourself in it. It’s a damn good time.” He turned to Thomas. “So this monster of yours is a real man-eater, eh?”
“So it seems.”
“I killed a man-eater in Tsavo once, but it was a lion. They had those two man-eaters there, oh, more than a century ago. I would’ve loved to have been there. Together they killed about a hundred and forty people the devils.” “If rumor is to be believed,” Thomas said, “this one’s killed more.” “You think so?” Douglas said. “One animal?” “Probably not. Stories do tend to get aggrandized in this part of the world rather quickly.”
“Well,” Douglas said, pausing to take a drink. “I hope the bastard’s a big one. But I was under the impression that you saw it Thomas?” “It was dark so I can’t attest perfectly to its size, but it was certainly large.” Douglas finished his drink and leaned back. “Damn good.” He looked to Eric. “So what’s your name my friend?” “Eric.”
“Well Eric, let me tell you something about hunting; not everyone can do it. Everyone thinks they can but they can’t. When you’re face-to-face with a lion you have to dig down deep inside you to pull that trigger. They have a savage beauty about them and their eyes stare into you if you let them. You really see where you are on the food chain when a lion’s staring at you with those eyes.”
“He’ll do fine,” Thomas said. “Killing comes naturally to him.”
“Eh?” Douglas said. But Thomas didn’t answer. He and Eric simply looked to each other, their eyes locked a moment, and they looked away. Douglas looked to them both and then nodded as he stood up. “Well, I’m going to get drunk.” Eric waited until Douglas was out of earshot and then said, “You know?” Thomas nodded. “My mother?”
“Yes.” He took a long pull from the pipe and then put out the embers before tucking it back into his pocket. “I nearly killed a man in Venice once. The city has a history of such bloodshed I suppose, so it wasn’t so out of place. But it is such a beautiful city I regret that I may never be able to go back.”
“What happened?”
“I was in love. A woman from a little town in Sicily. She sold fruit on the side of the road near my flat and I used to buy something from her every morning. I tell you, I haven’t committed an act of courage so great as using broken Italian to ask her to dinner. She loved me too I think. But I certainly loved her.” “You tried to kill her?” “No,” Thomas said, looking off at the sky, “her husband.” “Oh.”
Thomas blinked a few times and inhaled a deep breath, as if the action cleared the thoughts from his mind. “How is your rehabilitation?”
“It’s hard sometimes.”
“It will pass. You fell into it from temporary vulnerability, so you can defeat it. I had a stint myself in Myanmar but I believe we’re both just casual users; users from pain.” He looked over to Douglas who was already drunk and flirting with some older American tourists. Thomas rose and put his hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Get rested, tomorrow you’ll become a hunter.”
CHAPTER
32
Eric’s room was uncomfortably hot during the night and the squeaks of mammoth cockroaches were coming from the corners. The sun rose and quickly filled the room with flowing light, making it impossible to sleep. Eric was groggy but he stood up and stretched before looking out the window and seeing two green topless jeeps parked on the curb in front of the hotel. Some locals were loading them with suitcases and coolers and large plastic jugs of water.
Eric dressed and walked down to the first floor bathroom. When he was done with his toiletries, he went to the small cafeteria and saw Thomas sitting with Douglas and two new faces. One of them was a man, possibly in his late forties, wearing a corduroy jacket with sunglasses pushed up into his blond hair. The other was a woman, blond and petite wearing tight stretch pants and a black blouse revealing a little cleavage. Though the temperature caused one to constantly have a thin film of sweat on their skin, she was fully colored in rouge and lipstick and eyeliner.
Eric took a plate from a small buffet table and loaded it with eggs and toast before getting a cup of coffee and sitting down at Thomas’s table.
Thomas smiled at him and said, “How was your night?”
“Restless. It’s so hot I always feel dehydrated.”
“You have to constantly drink water and limit your sodium while here.” He turned to the couple seated across from him. “This is Eric,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you,” the man said with a warm smile, “I’m William Carthy and this is my wife Sandra.”
Eric nodded hello and she smiled at him. The familiarity with which they greeted him made him suspect Thomas had already mentioned him. “So where are you from, Eric?” William said. “New Hampshire,” Eric said. “Oh really? We live in Boston now. I manage to get up to New Hampshire every autumn for the leaves. Beautiful state.” Thomas said, “William’s a Stake President in the Mormon church. Quite a damn fine one from what I hear.” “You’re too kind,” William said. He spoke in a soft voice; tender almost, and his eyes were friendly and unassuming. “I didn’t know the higher ups in the Church could marry,” Douglas said with a mouthful of eggs. “We’re not Catholics. Marriage and family are the cornerstone of our faith, of any faith really.” “Were you always Mormon?” Douglas said. “No, I converted in my twenties actually.” “Why’d you convert?” “Oh, thought I could do more good I suppose. Just had a calling.”
Douglas scoffed. “All nonsense if you ask me. I’ve seen all manner of cruelties and very little compassion in the world. Doesn’t seem to point to God.”
“Perhaps you’re not looking in the right places,” William said with a wry smile.
One of the men loading the jeeps came in and said something to Thomas. He nodded and stood up. “The jeeps are ready. If you’d care to gather your things, we’ll be leaving within the hour. And if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things to attend to before we go.” He bowed his head slightly to Sandra. “Madame.”
She smiled, looking at him just a bit longer than was proper.
“I’ll come too,” Douglas said, sopping up the last of his eggs with a croissant and shoving it into his mouth. “Haven’t really gotten to see the town yet.” “Of course,” Thomas said, not taking his eyes of Sandra. “Have you had a chance to see the town?” he said to her. “No, not really.” “It wouldn’t do any harm if you’d like to accompany us. I have to go down the shore a bit and it is a beautiful drive.” “Go ahead honey,” William said. “You don’t want to come?” she said. “No, you go. Have fun.” “All right,” she said. As they walked out William was watching his wife and had a glimmer in his eye. His deep love for her was written on his face. “She’s quite lovely, isn’t she?” William said. “Yeah.”
“I ask the Lord sometimes why he blessed me with her. She’s a wonderful woman, full of life.” He took a bite of eggs and washed it down with cold juice. “You ever loved a woman, Eric?” “No. I don’t know. Maybe.” “What was her name?” “Wendy.” “Where is she now?” “I don’t know, New Hampshire still I think. I’m sure she’s moved on though.” “But you haven’t?”
Eric looked at him but saw no maliciousness or prying. There was only the soft voice and the kind eyes. “No, I guess not. I don’t really know.”
“Love makes up in height what it lacks in length. Frost said that somewhere I think. I’ve always thought it was true. You’re a better person for having loved a woman. And no doubt there’ll be others; you’re still a young man.”
Eric bit into his eggs; they were soft and rubbery and he put down his fork and tried to remove the taste from his mouth with coffee. “So what’s a Stake President?”
“We have different regions called Stakes. Like stakes in a tent. The tent is the Church and each Stake holds it in place. So I guess you could compare it to like a regional governor or something.” “Really? And you’re one?” William chuckled softly. “Don’t I look like it?” “No actually. All Church bureaucrats I’ve ever known were dicks. No matter what Church they belonged to.”
