• Chloe Babette Valensi


    Africa


    There weren’t many people on the train other than the party of three that sat in their compartment with a gauche silence surrounding them. Two men sat across from each other and a woman sat staring out the window as blurred green raced by. They looked picturesque. The first man, who sat stoically with his brown eyes fixated on the woman, was dark complexioned as if painted so by the Spanish sun. His body was immense, making him appear more demonized than he really was. Still, he had a hidden fetish – his lust. The second man looked the opposite except for his matching tan skin. He was relaxed with his blond head leaning fully back against the seat and his eyes closed shut; ostracizing the world was instinct to him. Every once and a while a transparent pencil mustache would twitch on his tender upper lip, but he didn’t fully wake till his sister jolted him with her sharp elbow. She had been sitting motionless just watching the desert turn into jungle until she finally felt a gaze on her coming from across the compartment. Just like it had taken her a moment to realize what the man across from her was staring at, it took her brother a moment to see why she had woken him. When he finally realized, he cleared his throat with a shallow cough.

    “Joaquín.”

    The first man looked up from the woman’s chest in response to his name.

    “Oui, monsieur Sebastien?”

    “Oh, don’t mock me like that.” Sebastien, a French man, rolled his eyes lightheartedly and even smirked. Already he had forgotten all about his sister waking him up for the purpose of defending her against Joaquín’s gawking eyes. Still, when she nudged him again even harder, he at least looked her over and shook his head. “You’re not wearing a dress in the jungle are you?”

    With a sigh, she gave up. Sebastien was too weak to fend for her. If Joaquín wanted to watch her breath, let him, as long as he didn’t touch.

    “Of course, I’ve brought pants.” With that, she glared over at Joaquín, as if warning him that his hungry looks wouldn’t be tolerated.

    Marie was, in a sense, a rebel in her time. It was uncommon for a woman like her to be going into the African interior with two men, even if one was her brother. A few months ago her brother, Sebastien, had met Joaquín and they had come up with the idea to find a new raw material that had yet to be discovered in Africa. The rubber industry had done so well and, in this time, that was the popular thing to do if you wanted money. Marie was only tagging along for said fortune they hoped to find. She was going to get her share, even if she had to tolerate erotic stares from this man she hardly knew.

    She had been looked at before in the same manner, she wasn’t use to it, but it had happened. Like her brother she had blonde hair, but her skin was much lighter than both accompanying men. Her eyes were sharp and just as cold as the rest of her nature. Back in Paris, the Chevalier family was well respected for their long line of behaved politicians, and Marie and Sebastien Chevalier had live their entire lives in sumptuousness. Recently they had lost that status though. Neither sister nor brother was interested in helping lead the nation, and when their father died they lost most of the small fortune he had left. What hadn’t be repossessed of their belongings were only shambles compared to the luxuries they once had. Publically, Marie hadn’t faltered. She had managed to keep up appearances even where her brother had been too indolent to – and now, after they found their fortune, she could keep up their manifestation effortlessly.

    A few hours later the train came to its final halt at a rural station. Carefully, with Marie first, the three exited the train with their bags carried by a white porter who doubled as a tour guide-esque escort. The outpost they had been dropped off at was small and only just populated with more than one hundred people. Their own home, which had been rented solely with Joaquín’s money, wasn’t a spectacle, and when Marie, Sebastien, and Joaquín finally were shown to it and allowed inside, they were let down. Marie, surprisingly, wasn’t concerned with the run down state they found it in though she was more use to upscale living, but rather it was the cramped size that made her unsettled. It hardly accommodated three and if she was to avoid Joaquín to any extent she could, the compactness was an issue.

    He pushed passed her advantageously when they came to a narrow hall so that his chest slid over hers. He didn’t flinch or even show the subtle ecstasy he felt, but Marie grimaced. The rest of their night went like that: Joaquín lusting after Marie with Sebastien oblivious to it all.


    The next morning came though, with obvious tension still hinting itself. Now, however, in pants and a blouse Marie felt safer, but Joaquín had only become more clandestine with his fleeting looks. They drudged into the dense and mossy jungle to get comfortable with the area around the outpost – it would be a few weeks until they actually started looking, and hopefully finding, some new discovery that would earn them their trip. Sebastien lagged behind making notes and keeping a trail of what they had passed while his sister made sure to keep her distance from Joaquín and also carried their few supplies: food, a first aid kit, and a gun. Joaquín led the way quietly, only glancing behind him every so often to check on his two comrades.

    “Sebastien,” he huffed. They had found a clearing to take a break in. Sebastien had taken the lone rock to sit on while the other two were forced to lean against trees, “You’ll need to go back to the outpost and get water, yeah? We forgot it. A canteen for us each.”

    With a sigh, Sebastien stood up. He could’ve sworn he had packed water, but they were only half a mile out and he figured he could procrastinate at their cabin and rest a bit.

    “Oui, yeah, I’ll be back.” With that, he was gone. There was silence left between Marie and Joaquín. She didn’t dare move or even blink, but he started to pace and gnarled his hands suspiciously.


    “You’re-,” Joaquín paused after finally ending the cold quiet between them, “You’re a pretty good looking woman. Tres belle, yeah?”

    Marie only raised an eyebrow.

    “If your brother ever leaves us alone, you know out here or back at the hut, we –me and you– could get to know each other better, you know?” He curved his fat lips into an eerie smile to insinuate further to her, “Back in Spain the ladies liked me just well. And Seb’s easy enough to get rid of, I can just tell him to go find a place to get drunk, yeah? What do you say birdie?”

    Her head was now cocked to the side, trying to figure where he had gotten the confidence to even give her such an offer after only one day of being in Africa. By just him suggesting the two of them have anything more than a platonic relationship she was far from merely insulted. How could he think that a girl like her, of her status and looks, would ever lower her standards just for him?

    When she didn’t respond, Joaquín just moved closer to her. With her back still against the tree, all Marie could do was stand up straighter and glare at him. She thought of the gun they had brought with them, quickly drew it out, and pointed it into his face. Without hesitation he recoiled and rose his hands up with a smirk.

    “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not that kind of man, just suggesting.” He shrugged and continued backing away.

    Still Marie didn’t lower her gun or her gaze. She had it pointed right for his head. The longer she stared at his revolting face the tighter her grip on the trigger became. Marie believed that this wouldn’t be the last of him if she didn’t do something about it. He’d keep pestering her; keep looking at her, until he actually took forceful action. It would distract them both from their goal in Africa. But she was never going to let him get to that point. Narrowing her eyes, she corrected her aim and slowly jerked her finger toward her, prompting the gun. The blast happened in a flash. Joaquín’s expression gaped as the rest of his body fell to the ground – death for him came just as long as it had taken the bullet to reach him. Marie, after gaining equanimity back, shook her hair behind her shoulder and walked over to the dead man who lay in front of her. A small grin posed upon her face as she watched blood trickling from her former adversary’s brain.

    A moment later Sebastien had ran back into the clearing.

    “I heard a-,” he stopped, seeing Joaquín’s body with his sister standing over it, “W-what happened Marie?”

    “I had to,” she didn’t move and didn’t explain any more.

    He was use to her being laconic, but the shock that she had shot his associate was still tangling his train of thought. Sebastien paused for a while matching her hushed facade. The green jungle around them screeched and hollered, still disrupted by the shoot.

    “What kind of violent animals live around here?” he said finally, glancing from the dead body to her face.

    “Leopards.”

    “Right, leopards.” He ran a hand through his hair and warily walked to stand beside her. “We’ll say a leopard attacked him.”

    Neither of the Chevaliers said another word. Sebastien took the gun from Marie’s loose hand and slowly took out the bullets. He didn’t dare look at her, but instead worked on dragging Joaquín’s body into the lush undergrowth the forest provided. Marie picked back up their belongings and nodded for Sebastien to follow her. Obediently he did and they continued on their way into the jungle. Both quietly understood that what Marie had done would be a secret they’d have to bear forever. They would stay in Africa till they found a source of wealth, only now with one less man to share it.