“So, after two days, that’s what you’ve landed on?” I ask. “Giving me the name of a Hollywood actor?”
“You’re right. I’ll keep thinking.” He sets the wet pieces of dead bamboo he's gathered near the fire so they can dry, then starts unpacking his bag. “I’m going to make you a proper high tea today, since we have nothing much else to do.”
I grin and fight the compulsion to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him hard on the mouth. Instead, I watch as he sets a large bunch of small leaves and some dark blue berries on the floor.
“I won't be able to make scones, but I almost think I might be able to make you a decent cup of tea with these peppermint pelargonium leaves. Well, it'll be hot water with some colour to it, anyway,” he says, shaking his head a little.
I grin up at him. “Sounds lovely.”
“These are black nightshade berries. They’re kind of like a cross between a tomato and a blueberry. They’re rich in vitamin C and antioxidants.”
“Nightshade? Why does that sound familiar?”
“Probably because people sometimes get them mixed up with the deadly variety of nightshade berries—Atropa belladonna. They look almost identical.”
Oh dear. That doesn’t sound very reassuring. “You know I have to ask, right?” I say.
Nodding, Will chuckles. “I’d sure as hell ask. The answer is yes, I do know the difference. The safe ones grow in bunches. The poisonous ones grow alone.”
“Ah, okay, and these were…”
“Definitely in bunches.”
“And if you did somehow mix them up?”
“At best, something we don’t discuss in polite society.”
“Ah, I see.” I wrinkle up my nose a bit.
“Both ends.”
Holding up one hand, I say, “No need to go into detail. Worst case scenario?”
“Death.”
“So, no berry picking for me then,” I say.
“Of course you can pick them. Just don’t eat them until you check with your handsome guide.”
I look around, craning my neck. “Where is he? I don’t think I’ve met him yet.”
“Oh, very funny. Here I am trying to fix you a fancy tea and you’re making fun of me.”
“But only for my own amusement.”
He tilts his head. “In that case, please carry on.”
“I think I shall.”
“Did you notice the chimps across the river?” he asks.
“No,” I say, suddenly feeling very excited. Or scared. So hard to tell sometimes.
“Right there,” Will says, pointing to a tall ironwood tree on the other side of the rushing water. I move toward the edge of the lean-to so I'm right next to him, our arms touching. Neither of us makes any effort to pull away. I've noticed this happening more over the last couple of days. We both find little reasons to be close to each other, and it's almost like an unspoken game of chicken to see who will move first. Each round gets longer and longer. A terrible idea, I know, but when you're stuck in a tiny space without much to do, you make your fun however you can.
It takes me a moment to find the chimps among the lush, green branches. It’s a small group. One is grooming the other. I pick up the GoPro and turn it on, zooming in as best I can to capture them.
After a moment, I say, “I don't think those are chimps. I think we’re actually seeing bonobos.”
