Author's Rant: Well, it's time to get back on schedule. I'm glad to be home and thanks to everyone who welcomed me back. Enjoy the next chapter!
Zambia Ranch
It has been weeks since Mokuba last saw his older brother at home. He'd received phone calls from Roland every day at seven in the evening—the usual time when Seto would be home to have dinner with Mokuba—and explain to the youngest Kaiba that the CEO wouldn't be making it home today due to problematic issues only he could handle. Mokuba tried to fed into the excuses as best he could, but found them becoming harder to accept.
Mokuba had been out of state working on the prototypes of the Kaiba Corporation's next big project on vocalized training duel desks that could train a duelist in strategic methods and proper knowledge of their monster cards, when he got word of the plane crash over Africa. Mokuba felt a brief sadness for the passengers and the mourning families when he saw the crumbled remains of the Delta Airline's jumbo jet in pieces on the ground. 'There was no way there were survivors. The damage rivals a high speed train's collision to a steel wall', he had thought. Watching the men in haz-mat suits and local law enforcement lift debris and push off large hunks of white metal to find new bodies, hadn't been what drew Mokuba to the television screen in his office.
The ten-year-old's eyes smoke grey eyes were round and dark as a forlorn moon without stars, when he caught sight of the plane's number displayed in the information bar. He couldn't believe it and refused to think it was true for the entire three hours he stared at the television and the news reporter explained how a storm had been the culprit to destroy the plane. That had been Yugi's flight; the one he was using to do his promotion expedition to Africa.
Mokuba's breathing had turned shallow, his skin felt clammy and his heart ached as if claws were snatching it away vein by vein. That had been Yugi's flight; his mind reeled on that singular fact for a long time. Nevertheless, how was that possible? Mokuba had just spoken to Yugi a day prior to when he was scheduled to leave. Yugi had promised to send gifts, he'd secretly promised to come back in time for Seto and Jordan's wedding.
How could he do that if he was . . . oh God.
The youngest Kaiba choked back a surprised sob and staggered. He couldn't believe it. Yugi had promised. Since they were small children, Yugi hadn't made a promise that he couldn't keep. Yugi had been the first and only friend to accept the Kaiba's at their lowest when they were in the orphanage. Yugi met the Kaibas one day while walking home from elementary school and saw the lonely brothers pushing each other on the swings. Yugi couldn't understand why the Kaiba's weren't playing with the other children, so he made it his civic duty to be their friend, despite Seto's long, dry explanation as to why he didn't want friends. Yugi stuck around anyway and eventually, Mokuba noticed how Seto would smile when he saw the pint-sized kid skipping to the orphanage to play.
Yugi brought more and more friends with him each time, until the Kaiba brothers were surrounded by kids. However, it was Yugi the Kaibas looked forward to seeing every day. He never failed them, no matter how the weather looked or how he was feeling. Yugi had wormed himself into the Kaiba's lives, becoming the sole friend Seto trusted and the kindhearted companion Mokuba could turn to when he couldn't speak to Seto.
Now he was gone. . .
Mokuba's hands cuffed around his upper biceps and rubbed up and down to dissolve the sudden gripping chill. Still in a state of disbelief, Mokuba had hurried to his desk phone and ordered a direct line to Kaiba HQ Head Office. If anyone could confirm the tiniest detail on anything, it was Seto. And Seto always, always, always answered Mokuba's phone calls . . . so when the secretary informed Mokuba that Seto wasn't accepting phones from anyone. . . it only proved what the youngest Kaiba feared.
Yugi really was gone.
"Alright," Mokuba quietly whispered into the phone. Roland apologized to the youngest Kaiba for the inconvenience and hung up the phone. Mokuba placed the phone on the table top and stared at the two plates of untouched Cesar salad, roasted potatoes, gravy-smothered roast and seasoned string beans. It was going to be another uneventful night in the mansion.
He hadn't had much of an appetite anyway. Moreover, he was worried for Seto. There were times when Seto would be gone for days in the office and forget to eat meals or get any sleep. It's been several weeks since Yugi's death and still, Seto wouldn't accept it. Mokuba had learned from Jordan that he'd found Seto's office in total disarray, and his desk was flooded with every printed newspaper and recording, detailing the plane crash. Every time the news spoke of the plane crash, Seto's eyes were glued to the screen as if it held him captive.
Mokuba decided that his only connected source to Seto would be calling Jordan. His future brother-in-law was equally worried for his fiancée's welfare, but not even he was able to coax his lover out of the office. Jordan would visit and force his way inside, but wound up ignored, or threated with bodily harm to get out.
Mokuba reached for the phone, dialed Jordan's cell number, and pressed it to his ear.
Two rings later, Mokuba gave a watery smile when Jordan's brass deep voice answers the phone. "Hi, Jordan, sorry I woke you, I know it's late."
Jordan's deep, whimsical chuckles hugged Mokuba's eardrums. "You know it could be three o'clock in the morning and I still have time for you Lil' Mokie. Talk to me kiddo. What can I do for you?"
"Um." Mokuba gnawed at his bottom lip as his right hand played with the hem of his yellow and black plaid pajama shirt. "H-have you talked to Seto today? He hasn't shown up for dinner again."
"Seto's still in the office then," Jordan concluded what the youngest Kaiba already theorized. The accountant audibly signed and Mokuba imagined he was probably rubbing the space between his eyes in frustration. "I went by the office earlier for lunch, but he wasn't allowing anyone inside. Roland told me he'd fired seven employees on a whim because none of them were giving adequate results on the plane crash."
Mokuba deflated in his seat. "Do you think he'll come home today?"
Jordan paused, and then said in an honest, sympathetic tone. "I'd be lying if I told you yes, Mokuba. Yugi's death hit him hard. And he's in a state of denial. When I mentioned it last week, he threatened to call off the wedding if I brought up anymore of my spurious opinions, as he put it."
"That's not fair!" Mokuba angrily broke into a whimper over the receiver. "I'm hurting too! Yugi wasn't just his friend; he was mine too. Why, why can't he just. . ." he swallowed back the sour lump in his throat.
"Mokie . . . don't be upset with him. You know besides you, Yugi was the only one he allowed in his icy cage," Jordan softly reasoned. "Hell, even I'm still trying to fight my way in. Losing Yugi, It just messed up his mind . . . you know Seto won't accept anyone he let in his life just leave."
"But what will it take for him to see that Yugi's gone!" Saying the words aloud hurt as much as the first day Mokuba had learned of Yugi's accident. It reopened a fresh wound and the emotions bleed profusely from his grey eyes. "I miss him too! I miss him every day! I wanna believe he's still alive, but Jordan, you seen the plane crash. You saw it! No one could've survived that. No one!"
Jordan's assuring tone did not waver. He let his words act as the catalyze for Mokuba from walking down the same broken path as his older brother. In truth, it was taking bits of Jordan's resolve every moment passed with the Kaiba brother's demeanors crumbling before his eyes. Seto was pushing the few loved ones he had as far as he could. Mokuba was clinging to whoever would offer him comfort in Seto's absence. Jordan had been stunned to hear of Yugi's death and his fears of the backlash to follow were confirming themselves each day that went back with that bubbly smile.
Some shuffling on the phone alerted Mokuba to Jordan pushing the sheets off his body. The child sniffled, listening and waiting for Jordan to finish what he was doing.
"You there, Mokie?"
"Yes," Mokuba said in a small voice. "What are you doing?"
"Putting on some clothes." More shuffle and rustles. "You up for some company tonight?"
Mokuba nodded over the phone as large tears finally leaked from the corner of his eyes. "Please?"
"Alright, I'll be there in a few. You want to stay on the phone with me until I get there?"
"Please," Mokuba repeated just as soft and childlike. Mokuba could hear Jordan's smile over the phone when he started talking to him and gradually easing the child's mind away from his troubles.
For now, if he couldn't help one Kaiba, Jordan would be able to do something for the other. The dark skinned accountant's mind was already reeling in a million directions, searching for ideas and anything at all to help his fiancée work through this. He loved Seto to death, so he needed to act like the proper lover and continue to offer his support as best he could.
Jordan continued to do just that for the next few weeks, visiting Mokuba as often as he could to take up the disappearance of Seto's company and going by the HQ office to check in on Seto. One night, Jordan arrived carrying two to-go plates from O'Charley's, each plate holding one of Seto's favorite dishes within. Perhaps the accountant could attempt to get the CEO to nibble on either one. Jordan was relieved to hear that Seto had eaten a small bit but it wouldn't do. Energy bars, coffee and water would only carry a grown man so far. Jordan hadn't seen the CEO this time for two full weeks and he demanded entrance into the office or the secretary was going to have more than Seto's attitude to deal with.
The brunette woman chewed her bottom lip nervously, large blue eyes pleading for her employer's fiancée to reconsider his offer. Jordan's dark gazed pierced the woman's heart like a spear. She gulped and quickly pressed in the necessary keys to unlock the office door. Jordan nodded his thanks and walked in with his head held high, shoulders squared and stride confident. He was wearing a sea-blue Hugo Boss suit with a crimson red handkerchief peeking from the breast pocket and a matching necktie. His cinnamon brown hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a black silk ribbon with a few strands framing his oval face.
The large, spacious office was pitch dark. The room illuminated briefly as Jordan strode in and then it was thrown into darkness again when the door clicked shut, returning to the scant lighting from the borrowed cobalt lights of the main computer. Jordan eyes calmly took in the environment's familiar disorder of broken vases, torn documents and shattered artwork. This place hasn't been cleaned in ages. His fingers squeezed around the plastic handle of the meal holder. This was beyond his lover's personality. Seto based his entire purpose on cleanliness and organization.
Seto was here, in a new suit, one twice as expensive as Jordan's; a pure white Saville Row suit, jet-black dress shirt and white tie. His slender silhouette and broad shoulders vibrated from the overwhelming speed of his fingers dancing across the keyboard. His rich blue eyes never left the screen to acknowledge Jordan's company.
"Lights, dim." The automatic lighting system answered to Jordan's orders, and the office was instantly basked in a soft gold glow. Jordan carefully approached after a few moments of waiting to see if Seto would respond to the sudden change.
Nothing happened.
Jordan sighed. Yet another long night of dealing with his lover's stiff silence. He placed the food on one of the couches aligning the walls and straightened his back.
"Seto, it's been a long day," Jordan softly said. "Why don't you join me for dinner?"
No reply.
"Roland's caught me up on the company's progression and comparison from last year's quarterly review. You're slipping by gradual percentages," Jordan smoothly lied, hoping the incorrect information would coax even the tiniest emotion, anger or anything from Seto's lips.
Still, Jordan was met with the same kind of response. Silence.
Jordan's eyes hardened. "Seto!"
Nothing.
"Damn it, you stubborn bastard!" Jordan stalked over to the desk and slammed his palms down hard, foolishly uncaring the shattered newspapers neatly organized on the desk and causing mugs of cold coffee to spill on the floor. "Seto, it's been weeks, you have to move on from this! You're neglecting Mokura, he's worried sick about you and so am I. No matter how much you want to go about scouring the depths of hell for his body, face facts. Be the practical man we love and understand. . ." Jordan's voice softened towards the end. "Yugi's gone. No kind of research or determination will bring him back."
Jordan gazed hard at the back of the tall computer screen and saw red when Seto's fingers never let up off the speed. If anything, they seemed to go faster. Jordan couldn't see his lover's face and imagined to be as hard as diamond, set in a stoic, blank expression. Jordan stood from the front and walked around the computer. He'd had enough. So help him, if he had to drag Seto from the computer he would.
Jordan circled around and his hand grabbed the leather chair's top and forced it around. Seto didn't fight it when his chair was turned.
A startled gasp escaped Jordan's lips at what he saw.
Jordan took in his handsome lover's face, drinking in his glorious feathers but the condition of those beautiful lines was distorted. He was stunned at the protruding sharpness in Seto's cheekbones, the harsh shadowy lines underlining his bone structure. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious beneath the expensive suit that Seto had lost weight. It didn't fit the way it should. Dark circles smudged under his icy blue eyes were lacked the prideful chill and confidence. The change broke Jordan's heart.
However, not as much so as the way Seto's bottom lip looked torn with bite marks and the old faded streaks of tears quietly fell from his eyes. This tall, strong man had silently has been tearing down like a king's castle to its enemies. It pained Jordan to his core to see his lover reduced to this.
"Oh Seto." Jordan leaned in, wrapped his arms around Seto's shoulders, and held him to his chest. Seto didn't move, but his rapid heartbeat spoke loud and clear. This hurt was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life. Jordan was at a loss. How on earth would he help his new family get through this pain?
"Is. . . It . . . . Good?"
Neo chuckled behind his hand at Yami's third attempt at asking Neo's opinion on the newest dish brought today. That's how they spent many of their days. Yami loyally visited Neo's room every single day with Heba's English book tucked under his armpit and something, be it food or clothes or a toy, for Neo to examine.
Neo especially enjoyed the new kinds of fruits brought from the farmlands on Zambia Ranch. Neo learned so much about the lands, its animals, the people and how the head family operated it. He felt like he was a witness to the farm's works. Heba vividly described everything in beautiful details and Yami happily proved his words by bringing evidence of their labor.
Neo has tried all sorts of meals, most of them neatly wrapped in colored clothes and kept warm. Desta cooked the dishes and another woman named Anzu, Neo learned. She wasn't the only one. Neo learned about all the workers, children and family members of Zambia Ranch through Yami's limited rambles and Heba's translations.
As the weeks passed, Neo healed with mild tenderness in his limbs and chest. It was as the time passed that he began to worry about what he was supposed to do next. He had no family or friends outside the Bello Family. They had taken such good care of him, but he felt like he was leeching off their kindness.
"Neo?"
The young man jumped a little and turned a plastered smile at Yami's worried expression.
"I'm fine," Neo assured, gripping his spoon a little stronger. "Yes, it delicious." The plate settled between Neo's thighs was a dish Yami called Acarajé made from peeled black-eyed peas formed into a ball and then deep-fried in palm oil. The texture was thick, bright orange and soft on the outside. The sizable fluff was filled with spicy pastes made from shrimp, ground cashews, palm oil, minced hot peppers and diced green tomatoes. It had an oily base that seemed to slim the flavors on Neo's tongue that he found uniquely delicious, though the oily part he wish wasn't so heavy.
He did like it, but his favorite was a Chicken Yassa dish Desta made for him last week. It was seasoned with all kinds of herbs and spices grown right on the farm. Yami had a hand with cooking this particular meal when he learned how much Neo enjoyed the first batch and promised to fix it whenever the young man wanted it. He prepared it with caramelized white and red onions, black oils and lemon juice, marinated chicken chunks, slices of red peppers, and steamed balls of white, yellow or brown rice.
Neo jolted to the soft swish of pages being flipped. He turned wide purple eyes at the fierceness of Yami's fingers scouring through the pages as if the one before the last offended him more. His index found what he was looking for and smacked it in the middle, narrow eyes studying it before he nodded.
"What's . . . wr-oung—oh, wrong?" He grinned sheepishly and tried again. "What's wrong, Neo?"
Neo smiled. Yami's English was getting better. "Nothing, I'm just worried about where I'm supposed to go from here."
"Go from here?" Yami went to the book again because Neo was saying too many words at once for him to comprehend. "Stay with us."
"Oh no, I couldn't! You've already done so much for me, with the hospital, visiting, giving me gifts and this wonderful food. I can't ask for more."
"Then where?" asked Yami.
"I. . . I don't know. I'll think of something."
"I want you with us."
Neo reached out for Yami's hand and the older man gladly gave it to him. "I wanna stay with you guys too, but I don't think it would be fair to you."
"You needn't think too hard, my friend. You shall stay with us."
Both men faced the doorway with Heba staying in the doorway wearing a thin green wife beater and dark brown cargos with tan sandals. His hair was fixed in a ponytail and split into three thick plaits tied with rubber bands.
Neo was the first to collect his thoughts just after realizing what Heba had said. "You've already done so much for me—"
"And we shall continue to do so."
"But why?"
Heba shrugged. "I like you." He winked and fully pushed the door open.
Yami smiled when the opening widened to reveal the extra company hiding behind Heba's legs. He stood up right away and kneeled to the ground with his arms open. He spoke fluently in his native language to the surprise guest with brilliant white hair, sharp brown doe eyes and a round Buddha belly protruding through his long blue and tan flora tunic.
"Anzu wanted him to see the stranger," Heba explained with a shrug at Yami's quiet question. "He wouldn't stop crying either. I had to bring him along."
Bakura curiously peeked between Heba's legs, stubby fingers balled and mouth set in a thin line as he looked from Yami's smiling face and to the new person sitting in the bed. The toddler pouted and shook his head. He pointed at Neo and frowned.
Yami followed the pointed digit and chuckled. "He won't hurt you, little one," he assured Bakura.
Bakura didn't believe a word of that. "Go," he ordered his older cousin. Bakura pushed Heba to walk, using his cousin as a shield between himself and the stranger.
"Brat," Heba mused teasingly as he sidestepped to remove himself from Bakura's grasp only to be scolded loudly by the protesting child for destroying his hiding place.
Bakura smacked Heba's knees with his fists and shouted, "Mbaya kijana*!"
Heba gasped. Yami laughed out, shaking his head. Heba scowled. "Where did he learn to say that?"
Yami shrugged.
"What did he say?" Neo questioned, smiling at the commotion.
"Something he better not say again. Little devil child." Heba tugged a piece of Bakura's long white hair which his mother Anzu braided off his face and tied up. The little babe shouted and started to tear up. He immediately made a beeline for Yami with his fists balled up over his eyes to plug the tears.
Yami picked him up and started to rock him from side to side, whispering peaceful words in his ears.
Bakura whimpered and pointed at his hair. "Heba maana*."
"Aw," Yami cooened and patted the tender portion Bakura rubbed.
"Kuharibiwa kitwana*." Heba rolled his eyes at the display. "Anyway, it's already been decided weeks ago, Neo. You're to stay with me until you regain your memory or even longer if you prefer. And!" Heba cut off when Neo opened his mouth to protest. "You'll have to find work around the ranch to cover your expenses. Whatever we find suitable for you until you get your strength back." Heba sat on the edge of Neo's bed, eyes bright. "We fought for you to stay with us. Don't let our efforts be for naught. Yami has too. He especially wanted you to stay."
Yami's head snapped up when he heard his name spoken. "What did you say to him?"
"That you wanted him to stay just as bad as me and mother."
"Don't say it that way—oomph!"
Bakura decided right then to smash his hands on Yami's face and squeeze his cheeks together until he was sporting fish lips. Bakura made kissy faces and giggled when Yami nuzzled the under plump of his jaw.
Neo chuckeld behind his hand, catching Bakura's curious eye again. This time the toddler was feeling a little more adventurous being in Yami's arms and tugged until Yami walked over and took a seat on the end of Neo's bed. Bakura owlishly blinked at Neo, then blinked at Yami. A frown pinched his chubby features.
Bakura pointed down at Neo. "Ambaye kwamba*?" he demanded.
Yami curled Bakura's rude finger away from Neo's forehead. "Yeye ni rafiki*."
"Oh." Bakura seemed temporarily satisfied with that answer until he heard Neo's quiet laughter. "Mbaya kijana*!"
"Hey!" Heba intervened loudly. Bakura pouted at him and hid his face in Yami's neck. Heba shook his fist warningly at his little cousin. The child peeked out and stuck out his tongue.
Heba snorted. "Despite the rowdy children, and occasion tempers, Zambia's Ranch is a wondrous place to live, Neo." Heba continued, regaining Neo's attention. He spoke in hinted seriousness and took the opposite of Neo's bed, close enough to grasp his hand. "You must reconsider. My mother demands your company there. My cousin, Yami and myself, we all want you to experience life on Zambia."
Neo's shoulders slumped a little. "Not everyone wants me there." Heba's hesitate response and shifty eyes confirmed it. "You told me once you had a brother, your father, uncle and another cousin. You don't talk about them often."
"That's because they're not worth mentioning. Don't you worry yourself about them. You're under my care, as well as Yami's. We'll make sure you're comfortable."
"But, you—you've done so much for me already," Neo's voice trailed away to a distant moment where his mind was arguing back and forth with what was right and wrong. Indeed he did want to come to become familiar with the Bello Family's way of life. Since day one, they've been there for him. Now, they ask that he come and join them like he was one of their own.
Heba's index finger curled under Neo's chin and lifted his face to see those fulgid purple eyes as glossy as a pool beneath a sunset. "What have I said before about taking your eyes away from us? I like looking at them. Mother does too. You should never keep such a gift all to yourself."
Neo's blush flared across his nose. He cleared his throat before turning to see Yami's expression mixed between curiousity and questioning. Yami too has been like a wall of support since he started visiting Neo as well. He wanted his company. Some, if not all, of the Bello's family wanted him to come and live at the ranch. Their kindness, offer of hospititality and boutiful sweetness was so overwhelming to Neo's heart, he felt it swelling five sizes too big in his chest.
At last, he gave his consent with a tiny nod. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered to Yami and turned to face Heba. "I mean it. Please, tell me everything I can do to help carry my weight. I refuse to be treated any diffferently then anyone else. I'll do whatever you ask without question."
Heba's smile unzipped across his face, all shiny white teeth and no lips. "That's what I wanna hear. You'll do well amongst my people, my brother." Heba nodded at Yami and translated the entire conversation to his eager brother-in-law.
Yami's expression mimiced Heba's in which he too was smiling with a shine of cheer in his eyes. He spoke quickly to Heba and the brunet whirled around with a chuckle in his voice.
"Yami's excited that you want to come live with us. He says if you're looking for work, why not share the load with him? He does more than his fair share around the ranch and could use a helper."
Neo tilted his head. "He wouldn't mind me helping?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't ask if he didn't."
"What if I mess up?"
"Like any other man on his first try?" Heba let out a a deep chested laugh. "Of course you'll mess up, but so what if you do? You'll try again and again until you get it right. Quit looking for excuses to piss me off." He waved off and pushed to his feet. "The doctor says you'll be well enough to leave tomorrow. We'll be here bright and early to get you ready for the trip to Thika."
"You're leaving?"
"Aye, before this brat pisses me off even more."
As if knowing, and he probably did know, that he was now the topic of discussion, Bakura lifted his face from Yami's neck and tilted his head over at Neo. After a seemingly endless bout of staring with narrow brown eyes, Neo squirmed until Yami placed him on the bed directly in the center of Neo's gapped legs. His thumb was stuck in his mouth, his frown still as tight as a stretched rubber band.
"What the hell is he up too?" Heba hissed at Yami.
Yami shrugged. Bakura's actions were unpredictable. No one could ever tell where the little toddler was going with his antics and just let him do as he pleased.
The child simply stared at Neo. Therefore, Neo did the same. Yami cleared his throat beside the pair. Neo turned his gaze to Yami. Bakura secretly took a tentative step toward the stranger. Neo turned back to the weird child and Bakura took another step. "Um." Neo didn't know what to do about this child. His wide-eyed staring was unnerving him.
The child took a last step forward, watching the stranger carefully. He stood between Neo's thighs and stared up at him, before placing a hand on one and quickly snatching it away. Neo watched with a raised eyebrow. This child was a strange one.
"Would you like to sit?"
Bakura looked at Heba expentantly. Heba translated and caught himself towards the end when he realized he'd been used by a child.
Bakura took the invitation and plomped down right there, thumb still in his mouth and his other hand busily rubbing over the cottony sheets. He was content with life it seemed. Neo rested his hand on the roundest part of Bakura's belly and shifted around to get more comfortable.
Heba and Yami sat there stunned to silence. Bakura didn't take take to newcomers this well, this soon and he most certainly never ever got snug and relaxed in their prescene. It was even trying for Akefia to get his son to interact with him without recieving a bite or kick to the shin. Yami and Heba shared a knowing look at one another and quietly came to the same conclusion of knowing that having Neo come with them was the best idea. They couldn't wait to get him to the ranch.
Tomorrow couldn't get here fast enough for Neo. By sunrise, he was already dressed in a waist long cream tunic with forest green trimmings around the hem of the v-neck and sleeves. His dark grey cargo pants had to be rolled up and tied around his ankles because Heba's legs were two lengths longer then Neo's own. They had to let him borrow his clothes until they went shopping for the man's own attire. Neo didn't mind the gesture at all. Afterall, who was he to be picky about any type of offering given to him by this beautiful family.
There was nothing for him to pack. All he had was his new name and the clothes on his back. Neo left the hospital room without a backward glances when Yami came to retrieve him a couple of hours later. Underneath his arm was the English book and another one he had held out for Neo. It was a book on their native language, translating it from English to Swahilli.
"Neo found the gift endearing. "So I can learn your language too," he said, smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Yami."
Yami beamed, eyes curled above his cheeks. "You're welcome." His chest expanded with pride. He placed his hand on the small space on Neo's back and led him down the straight pathway to the Jeep waiting for them outside. Heba was in the driver's seat wearing black sunglasses and a smug grin on his face.
"All set for a new life?" He happily called aloud.
Neo laughed along with him. "As ready as as I'll ever be."
"You better!" His robust laughter wrung a big smile from Neo. He was glad for Heba's enthusiam. It helped with cooping with the major step to a new life.
Yami's hand suddenly squeezed on Neo's shoulder and he automatically reached up to squeeze it back. Yami's company was a blessing as well. Neo knew he would need them both to adjust to this new world. Without a moment more of waiting Neo and Yami gathered in the dusty Jeep, pulled on their seatbelts and pulled off down the gravel and sandy path leading straight to Thika Village.
The journey was a comfortable quiet one, one which Neo used to take in the everlasting lands opening up to him as they traveled deeper into the African plains. The weather was reflective and shiny, like a sun's glare bouncing off polished gold. Everywhere Neo glanced, he saw trees as thin as skeletons and some with trunks as thick as buildings. Winds picked up, often stirring a cloud of caremal colored sand in the air. There were so many surprises and beauty to this place. No matter where Neo gaze, he spotted something newer and more uniquely grand then the last. There was always a new kind of animal raising its head to examine the loudly approaching vehicle and Neo's face would be plasted flat against the window until the view of the beast vanished.
Africa was a breathing ecosystem that florished in places and died in others. Some areas were so lush with greenery it could take centuries to navigate through it all. And then there were portions of land where not a shred of grass could be spotted on the cracked, barren earth. Not once had Neo looked away from the windows. If he had, God knows he would've missed something.
The very instant they entered into Zambia Ranch's territory, Neo was stunned at the marvelous beauty it posessed. It was large, open and vast. The road they drived on suddenly became flanked on both sides by acres of perfectly lined fruit trees and crops of corn, tobacco plants, and other variety of vegetation. Ladders were perched against the trees, each with a pair of men either holding it or climbed up to the top to harvet a basket full of fruit. Neo's smile nearly split his face in half. He couldn't stop the overwhelming amazement shining on his face. This place was wild and yet tamed. The further in they went, the more open it became.
Next in the line of glory was the sudden disappearance of plantlife and the expansion of animals comfortably secured behind a six foot tall wooden fence. Massive cattle with long horns and wide grits lazily grazed in the fields. Horses, muscular strong and wild, roamed in herds across the plains, kicking up heaps of dust in their wake. On one side were tall birds with black oily feathers and incredibly long, pink necks pecking at the grounds with gigantic white rimmed feathers.
The animals, like the orchards and fields, eventually disappeared when the Jeep pulled into a narrower road that dipped down a reclining hill into a sort of bowl shaped valley. Huts of all shapes and sizes started to appear and with them, the people who lived within; lots of people who carried the same wide nose, cat eye and high cheek bone features as Yami and Heba. Their hairs were kept in neatly plaited braids, some were dreads and others were beaded in a raindow of colors.
All eyes seemed to be centered on the Jeep carrying the new person within. It was the first time Neo felt subconsciously aware of his difference in skin tone and features and he slowly dipped down below the window.
"You ok?"
Neo forced a smile on his face to ease Yami's concern. "I'm fine." He decided to pull out his own book and flipped through the pages until finding what he was looking for. "Mimi nina faini, Yami*."
Yami's mouth opened and closed and set in a thin grin. He reached in the backseat to gently pat Neo's knee before turning around to face the window.
Neo releashed his hidden worry out in a soft sigh. He hadn't thought about what the other villagers would think of him. His only focus had been on the Bello Family's reaction, but how could he forget that he would assuredly have to deal with the smaller ranked people as well?
The Jeep soon came to a skitting stop before the largest built hut in the village. Neo peeked out the window to see a line of dark skinned people, some with tones lighter then the villagers, standing outside the hut. There were smiles and there were frowns, but there was one in particular that unnerved Neo above them all.
It was from the man in the center wearing a sleeve black vest with a white undershirt and dove grey cargo slacks and a white bandana tied around his brow. Neo immediately thought of a rebellious villain, someone of high in caliber who threw authority around the way a bull thrashed before charging his enemy. He stood straight with his long, muscular legs spread shoulder width apart. His arms were folded across his chest, the muscles in each arm looking as thick as chopped lumber.
Neo met the man's gaze head on and almost cowered underneath the felocity of danger boiling around the lavender color.
The young man jumped out of his skin when Yami opened the door. Neo nearly went tumbling out. He collected himself and saw Yami's outstretched hand. Neo nervously took it and let himself be pulled out into the scathing heat.
There was more anger, more darkness enveloping the man's eyes when Neo looked at him again and he couldn't help but be pulled into the heated glare. The magnetic pull of fear he created in Neo's body seemed to demand he be gazed upon with respect and submission.
Yami wrapped his arm protectively around Neo's shoulders and didn't think much about when he tugged him close to his side. Neo welcomed the physical contact. He would need it to get through these introductions.
Mbaya kijana= Bad boy!
Heba maana= Mean Heba or Heba mean.
Ambaye kwamba= Who that?
Kuharibiwa kitwana= Spoiled brat or scamp.
Mimi nina faini, Yami= I'm fine, Yami.