(“Wanna see it?” he asked.)
The car is in the work area, waiting for repairs. We walk back to the far left side of the shop. The front tire that had blown, is still off the car and the right side (passenger side) is all beat to hell. There is dried blood and mud spattered on the white paint. My guess is that the lion had repeatedly slammed into the car, and the impact caused bleeding from its’ mouth or nose. You know what? It might possibly be the victims’ blood. The father, the husband. I am feeling sick.
“The Misses told me that one lion kept slamming into the car. Knocked the holly shit out of it, didn’t it Chuck?”
“Oh my God! I’ve never seen anything like this before.” I feel like I’m not even breathing, but my heart is pounding and I am starting to sweat. That vision of the children hit me again. “I’ve got to show the guys. Be right back. They won’t believe it.”
“300, maybe 350 pounds of simba, Bwana,” Makali said. For the first time, that I can remember, I see some fear in his eyes.
Miles seems to be in a coma. “Chuck, …. oh my God …, Chuck!” almost in a whisper.