"Your sheep are dead." I whisper this quietly into Djibril's ear.
"Noooo," he says "they are not dead."
"But I haven't heard them in a very long time." I'm quick to respond.
"They are fine. They are not like goats. They don't cry all the time."
BAM!!!
Oh, mon Dieu!
Flat tire #2, immediately followed by a long 'ba-a-a-a-a-a-a' and a baby lamb bleat ! And I say to myself: Merci Dieu, the sheep still live !
I reach for my phone to check the time; it's about 2 o'clock in the morning. Our auto limps to a halt roadside. We all pile out one more time ! Shortly after this taxi arrived in Komboyu to collect us, UP went the hood and OFF came the right rear tire. Should this have been my first clue? Two hours later the sun has set and we're almost ready to move out of village.
Check list to review before moving out:
all tires are on the taxi? check
chauffeur in driver's seat? check
Abou and Seni in passenger seat? check
John, edie, Pele, Djibril in back seat? check
Bintou, Miriama, Sekou in 'buckboard' seat? check
mama sheep and baby in hatch-back? check
mile-high pile of luggage on the roof rack? check
3 hens and one rooster tethered up-side-down at the back of the luggage on the roof rack? that's a BIG 10-4 !
I think I need an aspirin but they're in my suitcase on the roof rack.
Forgo aspirin.
But I suspect it's going to be a long night. Just stay calm, I remind myself, even when passing through those 'pot holes' that could bury a VW.
And try not to act too white.
