The two archeology interns from the Lusaka Museum were off to participate in a local Zambian holiday. It was just her team and the museum guards (she thought) left at the camp site. She wasn’t sure if Charlie and the other two working outside of the cave were aware that the two girls were working inside the cave alone.
Actually, The Three Mummies, Charlie, Mike, and Chris were busy, working a dig about a thousand feet from the cave entrance. Leaving just Peggy ‘Sue’ and ‘Peg working alone inside the cave. Allison was not aware the obnoxious overseer from the museum, as well as the grounds keepers had departed earlier for Lusaka to attend an urgent meeting—leaving without telling anyone. Leaving Allison and her team without any type of security protection.
After thirty minutes of patiently waiting, word came down to those waiting, news of the buses unexpected breakdown, guaranteeing at least a week’s delay before the bus is back on schedule. Allison, frustrated at this point realized the fact that all countries do not operate at the same level of efficiency as America, turned around and headed back to Mums II.
As Allison approached the Mums II cave, she thought she heard someone screaming! “What in the world is going on,” she wondered. Increasing speed as the sounds got louder, she quickly discovered three locals, frequently seen around the digs, flirting with the girls, holding Peggy Sue and Peg down on the cave floor, preparing to disrobe and sexually abuse them.
Rushing into the mouth of the cave, she shouted: “Get away from those girls and get out of here.”
The ringleader, the tallest of the group, unshaven with the appearance of some cheap Chicago hood snarled back, “Look, fellas, it’s the queen bee. “She’s returned. Not wanting to miss out on any of the action, would be my guess. After all this time, she must be hungry for some action. And I’m just the man to give it to her.”
Momentarily, ignoring the other two girls, the trio walked toward Allison. Hoping to pin her down before she broke and ran which was nowhere—as they were very close to the back of the cave. Patiently, she let them get as close as she dared while Peg and Sue, with heads down, crying, thinking that their fate was sealed. The two did not see or understand what happened next.
With days of pent-up energy, literally, steaming inwardly, from her many encounters and dealings with the ignorant site watchdogs. worthless bureaucrats who watched and interfered in every aspect of her job. Allison exhausted her breath at such a velocity, the three creeps went skidding down the rock-encrusted floor, flying out of the cave’s mouth. Colliding against some boulders located about thirty feet away from the cave’s entrance.
Lying there, in extreme pain, no clue as to what just happened, the would-be rapists began to whimper and cry for help. Peg and Sue, in shock embraced the Professor with renewed love, respect, and admiration. Neither daring to ask how she managed to get rid of the attackers. Allison said the best she could figure, with the setting sun to their back, they must have thought they saw a bear behind her. And carelessly sprinted out, falling, and tumbling, finally ending up against the boulders where they lay. Of course, that did not explain how the intruders ended up with broken ribs, bloody noses, black eyes and spitting up blood.
The Three Mummies, Charlie, Mike, and Chris, working outside, trying to relocate a stubborn boulder, completely unaware of what was going on inside the cave. Allison made her point: “In the future, we are going to work as split teams, checking in on each other at least every two hours.”
Now it was Allison’s turn to shiver and shake, thinking of the larger picture: concerned not only about what just happened to Peg and Sue, but also what would become of their little archeology team and our Zambia, Mums II dig if that bus to Lusaka had not broken down? I didn’t think I would ever say this, but thanks to Fate, Providence and everything that is holy for disabling that bus, ending my planned trip to Lusaka?
Had it arrived on time, the girls would have ended up being molested, raped, and worst: physically injured and probably emotionally scarred for life with no one available to come to their defense. Undoubtedly, when word got out, there would be an international outcry, declaring that Zambia was no longer a safe place for tourists to travel. The Zambian president would be furious, probably freezing all future digs, and kicking out all the archeologists working in the country. One can only imagine the reaction of the president of the University of Iowa, who was against Allison overseeing the dig in the first place.
And, of course, receiving pressure from the girls’ families, demanding the same thing as the Zambian president—ordering Allison, and her students to leave the country immediately. With all the blame falling to her as being too young and inexperienced to conduct an international excursion to a foreign country. Not just any foreign country, but one located in the wilds of Africa where the uneducated populace was the majority, with only a few civilized people; the rest nothing but savages. Minimally, Allison could expect to receive a severe reprimand, ending her career as a professor at the university.
The repercussion of what might have happened, left her numb. Thinking: “What if I had not returned to the site when I did? Maybe fate, as earlier expressed, was on my side after all,” she mused.
“If there ever was a time to share in a bottle of wine, now is the time,” she blurted out with those around her laughing to break the tension of what just happened.
The next day, a belligerent Professor Dawkins met with the local site staff and demanded better protection. Explaining in detail what might have happened had she not returned when she did. “No more sneaking off to your bloody meetings without giving us an advance notice,” she demanded. Properly chastened, the site manager agreed.
Better protection was forthcoming. Including, adding another relief guard assuring there would always be a guard on duty around the clock. Unbeknownst to that austere group, they need not have worried about any further disturbance or interference from the locals. The punishment received by the three intruders got around in short order. With Allison earning the moniker: “that red-headed witch (some said bitch.).” Thus, assuring, in the future, the would-be invaders would think twice before coming near her or her fellow archeologist.
While in Zambia, Allison stayed in touch with her small family back in Iowa, posting a letter every week. Letting them know how much she missed them. Enquiring about the family dog Jessica and the farm animals, especially her favorite goat Billy. Enquiring about Paul, Pauline, and Rebekah. Wanting to know how they were doing in school. All wrote back. Sharing stories that typically permeate around small communities.
Mother Peggy mentioned that Pastor Cleghorn was praying for her and her team. Wishing them a safe and speedy return home. With separate letters to Brad and Rose, Allison included additional in-depth details of their work in Zambia. Explaining the difficulties encountered with their dig. When she told the story of the recent near successful rape of two of her associates, Brad exploded. “Don’t you think it’s about time you returned? No dig is worth losing your life or career or both. Come home. We miss you.”
Rose, not surprised or alarmed about Allison’s recent venture, knowing how stubborn Allison can be, hinted that she and Sam might be getting married soon. “He hasn’t exactly proposed yet, but I have the feeling it’s just a matter of time. And you damn well better be there for the wedding.” she added.
Work on the dig soon slipped from exciting to just a daily routine. Back when someone produced a worthy find, the team celebrated, opening a bottle of wine, toasting the one who made the discovery. It was one of those nights, after the toasting that Charlie, our favorite Bird Watcher, feeling a little tipsy from too much wine, begged to tell a joke he read in Paul Theroux’s book, Dark Star, Safari.
“I hope, in telling this joke I do not screw it up, but it goes like this: How can you tell if the dreaded hyena ate the old woman who had gone missing for weeks? Simple answer: “wait until the hyena starts shitting grey hair, then you will know.”
Not stopping there, Charlie, unable to resist, throwing in this one: “Why is it that a bicycle can’t stand up on its own? Because it’s two-tired.”
Home Economics, 101
The humble dirt diggers from Iowa, were busy doing their own daily cooking and housekeeping chores. Rethinking. “Maybe the dismissal of the domestics was not such a good idea after all.” Just a thought that was quickly discounted. They all knew that the way they were living, before dismissal of the domestics, what they were eating could not be considered healthy. They would simply have to work harder. To find suitable replacements to do the cooking and house cleaning.
Thus said, it still did not stop the rantings of Peggy. Peggy, a top-notch astrologist in her own right, feeling degraded, having no patience, with zero house cleaning skills at all. Heard to shout: “Why am I doing this? I did not sign up to be someone’s bloody dishwasher.” Strange as it may seem when it came time to put their individual cooking skills to play, a distinct, different, subdued change in attitude among the groups was noted.
They all seemed to have changed, taking turns to cook. Sue made the best country style dinners. Allison, using local vegetables and herbs. made the best salads. Peggy was a dessert freak. Making cakes, cookies, and delicious pancakes out of thin air, it seemed. Charlie cooked breakfast for everyone. His favorite was that new food ‘stuff’ he discovered in Florida called ‘grits.’ When you combine grits with eggs, ham, bacon, or both, it is quite delicious they discovered.
Noticing two young ladies, seen frequently around the dig site, jumping in to lend a hand with projects that did not directly affect the site digging. Allison offered them a job of housekeeping. They readily accepted, turning out to be excellent workers at house cleaning. The following week, a cook showed up, someone recommended to Allison from a reliable Lusaka merchant—proving to be a vast improvement from their own cooking. With good domestic help, the group had more time to devote to exercise routines, working out in the recreation room, which, until now, stayed practically empty, gathering dust.
With the change in housekeeping and cooking chores, the group had more time to take nearby countryside walks, exploring the local Zambia flora and fauna, primarily the local flowers and wildlife, always with two or more walking together, never walking alone. Weekends meant traveling as a group to visit the Lusaka shops and do some sightseeing. Lusaka is a gorgeous city, a favorite hub for international tourist. There is never a shortage of things to see or do. For instance, there is the East Park Mall, 37d Gallery, Lusaka National Park, Wild West Zambia bus tours which the group discovered was expensive. A visit to the Kariba dam was a must, added attractions included cultural and wildlife tours; not to miss the famous Livingstone Museum. The list of popular tourist sites was endless.
Sue, not big on walking piped up. “Sure, wish we had one of those two-tired bicycles Charlie mentioned. Maybe we can rent one in Lusaka. I wonder If they would let you take it back to the dig site. Probably cost you a fortune!”
“I have a better idea,” this from Peggy. “It is off-season, so why do not we visit the Mumba Caves? We are ‘fellow travelers. Maybe they will let us in for free.”
“Oh. Man. Wasting our free time visiting another cave! Don’t they all pretty much look alike? Maybe skip the cave tour for now and find something a little more exciting to do,” said Charlie.
“Devoting our leisure time off looking at more ancient relics is not my idea of fun. Unless Sue knows where she can find the buried remains of her last boyfriend. Now that would be fun—and worth seeing.”
“At least I have a boyfriend, bird man. What girl in her right mind wants to hang with someone hung up on watching old birds? I can’t think of anything more boring!”
“This may come as a surprise to you, my dear fellow dirt digger. I found just such person on my last bird – watching safari. If all goes to plan, you might get a chance to meet her very soon. Then you can eat your heart out.” Remember that ‘phrase’ being used back in the watermelon patch?
Seeing where this was going, Allison suggested: “Let’s go into Lusaka, have a nice lunch, and tour the Livingstone Museum.” Thus said, off they went.
Monday. “At least it’s not raining, (not that it mattered; since we are stuck inside a cave),” this from the Two Cave Dwellers, Peggy, and Sue. “One unique thing about us archeologist: we never seem to tire of unearthing soil of endless age, hoping our next turn of the shovel will bring forth a new discovery.” To some, the job may seem boring, but to Peggy and Sue, it was everything but boring. Feeling such a privilege to be here at the Mum II site, uncovering secrets buried for centuries. However, what happens next was surely not planned or part of the script.
Scratching around in some old leafy turf, in the corner of the cave, the girls uncovered the nest of a True Cobra watching over her new-born young. Agitated by the disturbance, she began to squirt venom in the direction of the girls. Fortunately, Allison had turned her head just in time to witness the incident, shouting at the girls: “close your eyes and back up as far as you can.” Peggy felt the dampness of the venom on her face. Some near her eyes. Sue felt damp venom on her clothes, but not on her face. With Peggy closing her eyes as instructed, preventing the venom from entering them.
If she had chosen not to close them, she would go partially or permanently blind. Cautious not to kill any living creature encountered in their work; some of the local men working outside of the cave were pressed into removing the snakes as far away from the camp as possible. A bottle of their best wine was opened that night. Not to celebrate a ‘find’ but to calm the nerves of all involved in the near tragedy. Discovery --- Time to Bring Out the Skeleton
“How different would human life be if we knew, at every turn, what was about to happen next.? If you were a party to some horrific crime, knowing in advance, at your upcoming trial, how hard the judge was going to throw the book at you, would you still commit the crime? But as mundane, boring days go, the least we can hope and wish for, is for something unexpected to happen. Say, a wonderful surprise, that bites you in your posterior, not literally—and that, as nearly can be described, is exactly what happened in the lives of our little Iowa dirt diggers—a discovery that shook the entire archaeological world.”
