BRAVERY?

The scent of smoke lingered in the small living room. The fire burning strong now crackled and the boy had to scoot to the edge of the rug as the heat became too much for his back. Jon Jon’s knees almost dug into the floor as he leaned forward.

“Adunya here was the first to notice the lion tracks.” Uncle Albin had been telling them about a kudu they had to track the morning after a client wounded it. “He didn’t even flinch,” Uncle Albin said clenching Adunya’s shoulder.

The Ethiopian boy raised his lean body into the grip—comfortable and proud.

“When that female in the brush growled at us, I about jumped out of my boots. Adunya just turned and watched her slip into the grass.”

They all looked at the young Ethiopian. “I know Uncle have big gun. I have nothing to fear.”

Uncle Albin glanced at the boy’s father, smirked, and almost rolled his eyes.

The boy closed his eyes for a moment and imagined the scene. Behind Adunya’s soft face, behind Uncle Albin’s heavy shoulders, behind the idea of straw huts, elephants, and adventure, he saw golden grass as tall as a truck, and inside the grass, he saw a pair of eyes. They burned like the fire—hungry, fierce, imminent.

“After a few more yards, we found cub tracks. That’s when I decided to send for the truck. Adunya may be brave and I may be a bit dull, but I ain't dumb. Still, a client who just spent a few thousand dollars expects to retrieve his kudu, lion cubs or not.”

“Will a lion attack a truck?” Jon Jon almost tipped forward.

Uncle Albin chuckled. “Only if you do something to make them really mad like shoot one in the belly or try to steal its dinner.”

“What happened?” the boy asked.

“The truck didn't make it in time.” Uncle Albin raised his eyebrows and looked down at the boy. “I wanted to get a better idea of what we were up against and told everyone to wait beside a termite mound while I circled around. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps when a lioness charged. Her head was down, grunts and growls rushing from her throat. She cut a hundred yards like that.” Uncle Albin snapped his fingers. “I had two shots in my double. If the first one didn’t turn her, I’d have to kill her—a death sentence for her cubs. I shot at the ground in front of her. Dust flew. Her head slammed into the ground and her body slid. I thought the bullet had ricocheted and had I killed her.” He lowered and shook his head.

“But she would have killed you,” Jon Jon said.

Uncle Albin winked at Jon Jon. “She wasn’t dead. The bullet hit a rock and flipped it into her head. Knocked her cold. When she came to, she looked around and disappeared into the grass. We never saw her or the cubs again. The client got his kudu—a little chewed up. The lion lived. And Adunya proved his bravery.”

The boy turned his gaze to the young Ethiopian standing tall beside his adoptive uncle. Adunya did not smile. He held his back straight and his shoulders tight, reveling in the moment of adulation.

The boy’s hands were shaking from the story and even though he knew the answer, he wondered if he would be as brave as Adunya. Then he wondered if you could learn to be brave.