“Well, you’ll need dentures soon enough,” Hannah chimed in.
“Should we only drink?” Shelly posited to the group again.
“Ugh,” Hannah moaned. “The heat is so hot.”
We left a tip and told one of the staffers to forget lunch and let Hunam know to meet us back at our villa with two more pitchers of margaritas. When he reappeared, he not only had the two pitchers of margaritas, but he also had close to ten pounds of marijuana and a pack of American Spirits. Our instincts about Hunam were right. Sue began rummaging through our fruit basket in search of an apple.
Here are the margaritas.
“Do you guys think there’s a movie theater anywhere nearby?” Hannah asked, reading from her computer. “The Great Gatsby was just released, and it’s getting totally mixed reviews. It would be nice to see a movie, no?”
“Not really, Hannah… because… we’re on safari,” Sue told her. “I didn’t come all the way to Africa to go to the movies, no offense to Baz Luhrmann or Tobey Maguire.”
“Well, I thought it might be a good idea to break up the animal stuff. I mean, this place is annoying. What about you, Molly?” she said without looking up. “I bet you’re up for a movie.”
“I would rather learn a wind instrument,” Molly replied.
“I would stick my head in the oven if I could figure out how to turn it on,” I announced.
“Or we could go to a pop-up hospital,” Sue suggested, as she cut the core out of the apple with a butter knife, and then emptied the tobacco out of one of the cigarettes. “Hannah, can you check online to see if there are any pop-up hospitals? I’d love to see if any of us have caught anything yet. Who’s got a light?”
And here is the marijuana. Also known as the highlight of Camp Dumbo.
I decided to e-mail my doctor and make sure it was okay for me to ride an elephant three weeks out of surgery. His response was, “Please, Chelsea, no.”
I leaned back in the leopard-print dining room chair I was stationed in and felt it buckle. “Is there an adult camp for obesity?” I asked. “I am going to need to pick up a parasite. Or an African girdle.”
“Yes, somewhere with trust falls and zip lines,” Sue responded.
I got up, took some raw macaroni out of the kitchen pantry, and when I couldn’t find a bowl, I poured some into a martini glass and popped it in the microwave. I looked quizzically at my dish as I was putting it in the microwave, wondering if I was missing an ingredient. But in the hopes of appearing like a conscientious chef prepared for all things culinary, I soldiered on. After standing directly in front of the microwave for what felt like an eternity, I heard glass shattering, and hopped backward on my good leg. I now know that the key ingredient I was missing was water, and I regret not knowing this when it mattered the most.
“Well,” I announced as I hobbled back into the living room with the girls, “another signature dish gone awry.”
Simone looked up from her phone and asked me what I had e-mailed her soon-to-be ex-husband.
Hannah was typing and mumbled without looking up, “How are you getting service, Simone?”
Simone ignored Hannah and kept her eyes set on me.
“Well, you can’t leave on a note like this,” I told Simone. “We need to reunite with Rex. He said he had time off. Don’t think he’s not coming to join us.”
“Chelsea, I have to move houses. Are you proposing that I force three children to pack up and move themselves? What did you write to him?”
“First of all, it’s not like they’re toddlers. Seneca is almost ten. There are child labor camps all over the world with kids much younger than that. Third of all, Shana, Roy, and Mike are all around to help out. The movers are going to do everything anyway.”
“You can’t hold me hostage,” Simone mumbled.
“I simply told him that I need you here for physical and emotional support, that this is a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and that he should set a good example for his children by allowing you to celebrate your divorce on a seventeen-star safari.”
“She’s right, you know,” Shelly chimed in.
Simone looked at Shelly like a mother protecting her chihuahas. “You are an enabler, Shelly, and you, Chelsea, are a bully.”
Hannah looked around and jammed her finger in her ear. “Does anyone have Internet service?”
“Yes!” the five of us responded together.
“You are an enabler,” Sue agreed.
Shelly then turned to Simone. “Seriously, what are the chances you are ever going to come back to Africa? Chelsea does have a point, bullying as it may be. It’s like a bully with money.”
“It’s like two bullies with money,” Simone said, eyeballing Shelly.
“Like Laverne and Shirley with money,” Sue added.
“Then who’s Squiggy?” I shot back at Sue. “Because it feels like I’m looking at him.” I went back in the kitchen to check on my pasta and remembered halfway there that it had already exploded in the martini glass.
After Sue had prepared the apple properly, we got extremely high, which turned out to be a welcome respite from all the alcohol we had been drinking.
By the time Norman—the South African version of Leave it to Beaver—picked us up for our 4:30 elephant ride, we were supremely out of sorts. Every time I get stoned, I always write a note to myself to do it more often, and then I always forget where I put the note.
Before our scheduled elephant romp, we stopped by a man-made pond to watch the sunset and stare romantically at the wind. This gathering spot was comprised of two picnic tables covered with the African equivalent of saltines, some sort of processed cheese cubes, and an array of wet meat. We tried to make small talk with another couple there but became dispirited when we found out they were headed to Londolozi in the morning. “We wish we were going with you,” I told them with tears in my eyes.
We sucked down champagne out of plastic flutes and gnawed on beef jerky in silence while watching the sunset from lawn chairs. “I bet that sunset isn’t even real,” Sue garbled while she tried to remove the hair whipping around inside her mouth like a spin cycle. This place was like a microclimate. One minute the sun was burning down on your face and the next minute you were in a Saharan sandstorm.
After stepping away from our group to take a phone call on his cell, Norman returned and revealed to us that the elephant ride had been canceled and it would now be in the morning.
“Did the elephants make other plans?” Sue asked.
Norman nervously laughed, then explained that one of the elephants was sick, which would prevent her from leaving her shed, which would prevent her four sisters and all their baby elephants from leaving their barracks. “They travel in herds,” he reminded us, as if we had not just come from a fucking safari the week before.
“None of the elephants get sick at Londolozi,” I assured the couple who were headed there.
I looked at Shelly, who had her eyes fixed on Norman. “What are you talking about? Isn’t this the whole point of the camp… to ride a goddamned elephant?” Shelly’s testosterone was kicking in. She lashes out to protect me so that I don’t have to complain and then have people talk about what a bitch I am in person. Instead, they talk about what a bitch she is, and wonder what someone as sweet as me is doing traveling with someone as cunty as her.
Simone put her arm around my shoulder. “This place is what you would call a ‘hot mess.’ It’s off. Way off. I think you should call Rex and see if he can put his money where his mouth is. It’s just not the same without him.”
I felt bad for Norman, because clearly he wasn’t in charge of this camp or, for that matter, anything in his life. He offered to take us on a night ride and we decided, against our better judgment, to assuage his insecurity and our disappointment by obliging. Also, there was nothing better to do. We had the sunset-picnic bartender make us some dry martinis to go, because we were all getting heartburn from the fake lime juice in the margaritas.
During
this night ride we learned that in place of a tracker, Norman used binoculars and a flashlight. When Shelly asked him why he didn’t have a tracker like Rex, he said he didn’t need one. Hannah began cross-examining Norman—what kind of training program had he taken, where had he gone to school, and what his real experience with animals was. “Have you ever even seen a lion?”
When he disclosed to us that the only prerequisite to working here had been a three-week training course online—which would be equivalent to me getting an archaeological degree from the University of Phoenix—I tossed my martini glass over my sister’s head and into the woods. Somehow, a giant rock moved itself into the same place as the bush I was aiming at, causing a rather loud crashing sound. Norman hit the brakes and asked if we had dropped something.
“Simone!” I yelled. “What is your problem? You were supposed to catch that.” Simone was sitting three seats behind me.
Norman stopped the car and got out. As he retrieved the broken glass, he pointed out a rabbit running across the road.
“I didn’t fly twenty hours to see a fucking rabbit, Norman,” Sue snapped.
Sue is never mean to people, but we were at our wits’ end and Norman was exceptionally stupid. What kind of safari features rabbits and flashlights? If I wanted to go on a Cub Scout trip, I would have become a Scout leader. That was actually exactly what Norman should have been doing. Leading Scouts. Girl Scouts.
“Actually, it’s a squirrel,” he responded. I couldn’t see the squirrel, but I knew that I was jealous of the squirrel’s body.
After being at Londolozi, it was impossible not to be disappointed with Camp Dumbo. Going from a thousand-hectare natural reserve with rhinos, hippos, lions, and cheetahs for miles, to what was essentially a Six Flags with nothing but rabbits and Cheez Whiz, was not something we were prepared for.
We told Norman we wanted to go home, so he made a left and drove down a dry riverbed for over thirty minutes, only to land us in a rock-enclosed dead end. It was also pitch-black, and his flashlight’s battery had drained. He then made a twenty-seven-point turn to get us out.
“This reminds me of your driving, Hannah,” I told her. “Like the time my driveway hit your car.”
Hannah, buried under the blankets they provided in the jeep, held a squishy hot water bottle over her eyes. “Why are we stopped? Did we get a flat tire?”
Once we got home I asked the girls how the hell my travel agent, Barb, could have sent us to a place like this after our first camp. “It’s like we’re at a petting zoo, but with no animals.”
“If this had been our first camp, it would have been fine, but after being at Londolozi, which is the cream of the crop, it is impossible to have a good attitude,” Molly reasoned. “The next camp is supposed to be amazing. It’s probably going to be better than Londolozi.”
“I pray to god you’re right, Molly,” I said as I stripped down to my bra and underwear and got into bed. “I pray to the Lord Jesus Christ that you’re right.”
“There’s a Bible on your nightstand, Chels. Make sure you use that while you pray.”
“The Bible is just another book of horoscopes!” Sue yelled from the other bed in the same room and then moaned.
That night, when I popped my Xanax, I decided to chew it in order for it to affect me in a timelier manner.
“Didn’t you already take a Xanax?” Molly asked me.
“Probably,” I said, and pulled down my eyeshades. Shelly was already snoring in her pajamas.
“Rex!” I wailed, waking myself up in the middle of the night. “Where are you, Rex? I need Rex!”
Shelly awoke. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“No,” I said, and rolled over into fetal position.
June 28, Thursday
I woke up the next morning and Shelly was nowhere to be found. As codependents, we usually wake up at the same time, so I was irritated when I woke up alone. I found her in the kitchen making coffee. “We’ve decided to have more positive attitudes, today,” Shelly informed me. “Even Hannah.”
“Good,” I said, and returned to my room to put on the only outfit I had left that fit me. It wasn’t so much an outfit as it was draping: cargo shorts and hiking sneakers, both of which I had stolen from Shelly. I got some ice for my knee and walked back into the living room to get some Excedrin and make an announcement.
“We’re going to have to move on earlier than expected.” I took the map I had stolen from Sue’s office at work and laid it out on the dining room table. “Let’s get some Bloody Marys and figure out what our game plan is.”
“Chelsea, this is a map of San Francisco,” Sue said, refilling the apple bong with more marijuana. “The map that Chuck made for me for the weekend we never took. Did you steal this?”
“Well, perhaps we should think about going there,” I told her, avoiding her accusation. “More importantly, what did cavemen do before Excedrin? Can you imagine the hangovers they woke up with? All they did was hit each other in the head with bones.”
“Should I call Rex?” Hannah asked.
“Yes!”
There was a knock on the door and I feared it was Norman. It was.
“Are you girls ready to r-a-a-a-a-h-d elephant?” he asked, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“I guess,” I said, rolling my eyes at Simone. “Hannah just needs to make a phone call.”
Hannah was taking control. “Hi, this is Hannah,” she said into the phone, “and I was just there with Chelsea Handler’s party. Would it be possible to speak with Rex, our safari guide?” She got up and walked out of the room and then walked right back in when she lost her cell signal.
“Stay in one place!” Molly yelled.
“Just go ahead without me.” Hannah motioned to us, waving her hand. “I also have to call Barb and the next camp to make sure we can come early. I don’t need to ride an elephant. I’m good.”
“We have baby elephants,” Norman assured her.
“Hannah doesn’t need to ride an elephant,” Molly reassured him. “Her legs aren’t big enough to spread around something that size.”
“She can get a massage,” Simone offered. “Hannah, get a massage!” she yelled to her as the door closed.
Once we got to the actual elephant stable, each elephant was taken out one by one and paraded before us like limp biscuits. We were informed that we would be riding each elephant in pairs and with a trainer. So three of us in total would be on each elephant, but with Hannah missing, one person had to ride alone.
“I don’t mind riding alone,” Molly volunteered. “It would be the same weight as Hannah and I riding together.” I asked Simone if she would be my elephant partner, and she reluctantly acquiesced.
It’s not lost on me that the people I respect the most are the people who want to hang out with me the least. Simone has never shown an interest in being anything other than my sister, and looks at it as more of a duty than a pleasure.
There were baby elephants along with their mama elephant and then a male elephant and one pregnant elephant. The pregnant elephant was the size of a house. “If I ever got pregnant, I would just get lipo throughout the whole pregnancy,” I declared, glaring at the elephant. “Talk about a fat fuck.”
Andrew was the name of the trainer in charge of the herd. He wore similar shorts to Norman and had a woman’s ass. Andrew was German and was very strict at the stables; he told us repeatedly that we needed to stand back from the elephants when none of us were anywhere near them. I wanted to tell Andrew that he had a secretary spread for an ass and that he was a fucking asshole and by that point, I didn’t even want to ride a fucking elephant, but I had lost my edge.
“Do not lean back on the elephant,” he repeated for the seventeenth time as we each climbed up an African stepladder. Our feet ended up at the same level as the elephant’s tits.
Simone and I were the last ones to mount our elephant, and once we had set sail down the riverbed following the others, I brought up something that had
troubled me for days. “Simone, I have to ask you a question, and I need you to keep this between us.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is the moon… not the sun?”
I was sitting behind Simone, who was spooning the elephant trainer in front of her. He audibly giggled at my question.
“You mean are they the same thing?” Simone wanted to clarify.
“That’s right,” I replied confidently.
“No, Chelsea. The moon is a satellite of the earth and the sun is a star.”
“Come again?”
“The earth revolves around the sun, and the moon is a satellite to the earth that is illuminated at night.”
“By who?”
“Huh?”
“Who is illuminating the moon?”
“The sun.”
“Well, then why is it sometimes full and sometimes not?”
“Chelsea.” She turned around.
“Simone!” I begged. “Come on. You think I’m happy about asking these questions?”
“The sun illuminates the moon, and its position as it rotates around the earth determines its fullness.”
“I can’t believe I bleached my asshole for this trip.”
“Don’t try and change the subject, Chelsea.”
“I’m not. I really can’t believe I bleached my asshole. I don’t even know what the original color was and I don’t know what color it is now. Who did I bleach it for? Please do not tell anyone about this conversation, Simone.”
“Which part?”
“You know which part.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t. You not knowing that the moon and the sun are two different things is a poor reflection on me, too.”
It was very quiet other than the distant laughter from the other girls who were far ahead of us. As disappointing as this camp had been, it was pretty majestic to be riding an elephant in Africa, especially now that I knew the difference between the sun and the moon. Our elephant’s name was Lucy, and when she walked, her body undulated up and down and side to side. It felt very safe and calm traveling at less than one mile per hour and seeing the elephant in front of us urinate with more water pressure than a hose at Guantanamo Bay. I loved the feel of Lucy’s thick, leathery skin. Every few minutes she would stop and pull up some grass or leaves with her trunk until our trainer would make a sound or kick her in the gut. Africa was just plain beautiful. And if I could feel that way when I knew Norman and Corbin were both in a five-mile radius, I knew I was evolving. I asked the trainer if there was any way to make Lucy stampede while we were riding her, and he told us he didn’t think we would enjoy that, or survive it.