Hmm, but now that I’m in charge of narrating, I don’t know what to say. Will must know I’m flustered, because after a minute of me filming without speaking, he says, “Just pretend you’re on a call with your Gran and you’re describing what you see.”
Oh, well, that sounds much easier. “Okay, here we go. We’ve been camped along the river in a rainstorm that moved in yesterday afternoon. It’s afforded us an extremely rare opportunity to observe a small family of what we believe to be bonobos. Bonobos are a very close relative of the chimpanzee and, in fact, for many years, scientists didn't distinguish between them and chimps. But this amazing group of primates has some important differences. First, they only exist in this one small area of the world. They’re slightly smaller, for the most part, than chimps. And you can't tell at the moment because they're not walking, but when they do, they tend to use a more upright posture than most other primates.”
“Is that so?” Will asks, from the ‘kitchen’ area of our little home.
“Yes. In fact, they favor walking only with their back legs and swing their arms the way humans do, rather than using them to help propel their bodies forward. They’re also known as a peaceful, relaxed animal, which is probably because the females of the species are in charge.”
“Really?” Will asks. “I did not know that.”
“It's true,” I say, turning to look back at him for a second. “Primatologists have a motto for the bonobos—make love not war.” My cheeks turn red, but I force myself to continue, on the basis of educating people. “They actually use sex to resolve tension within and between groupings.”
“You're making that up.”
“I swear it. When they meet up with another group, the alpha females will approach each other and then … well …” Oh, God. Why did I bring this up? This is awful. Just stop talking.
“They what?” he asks, looking very serious even though I can tell he’s enjoying making me squirm like this.
Fine, two can play that game. “Touch each other in the … you-know-where and …” Nope. I cannot talk about this. And yet, something about the amused expression in his eyes brings out my defiant side. It’s just science, Arabella. Don’t be a prude. “They pleasure each other to reduce tension and show acceptance.”
“I really can't help but feel like you're making this all up,” Will says.
“No, it's true. They're very sexual. It's why you don't see them in zoos. Because it’s far too uncomfortable for people, especially if they’re on an outing with their children.”
Will busts out laughing, and I see one of the bonobos up in the tree turn her head to look. She stops grooming the other one and stares back at us.
I zoom in on her with the camera, and gasp a little, whispering, “I can't believe this. We’re actually looking at each other. How amazing is that?”
Will comes to sit next to me and the two of us watch her together.
“This is incredible,” I say. “She is staring right at me. It’s like she’s trying to communicate with me somehow.”
The bonobo tilts her head, then starts to … Oh, dear! I quickly put the camera down and turn to face the other direction.
“Is she …?”
“Yep. Let's give her some privacy, shall we?” My entire body feels hot with embarrassment, but Will seems to find the entire thing hilarious.
He’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and silent tears pour down his face. “I think she likes you, Arabella.”
“Shut up.”
“Maybe she has a thing for royalty,” he says, laughing some more.
I fold my arms and glare at him. “It's really not that funny. It's just … nature.”
“And that particular bit of nature was absolutely turned on by you. In fact, she’s still going for it.”
I slap him on the arm. “Stop that. Don't stare at her while she's … you know …”
“What? Take it as a compliment. You’re empirically attractive to all species. You should be thrilled.”
“All right, that's enough out of you.”
“I think you should do it back, so she knows we’re friends.”
I growl in response.
His smile fades. “I just thought of something,” he says. “What if they decide your lack of masturbating is a sign of aggression, and they come over here to attack us?”
“Weren’t you making tea? I think you've lost your focus.”
“Can you blame me?”
Well, this is just ridiculous. There is literally no way I'm going to be able to resist this man now. He has fashioned little teacups and saucers out of bamboo and made stacks of sliced fruit and yam cakes for us to eat. He's even sweetened them with a piece of a honeycomb he managed to procure. When I asked him how he did it, he said, “I don't want to talk about it. Let’s just say it was not pretty.”
So now, the two of us are sitting near our fire in our cozy, delightfully-dry lean-to, sipping what is quite possibly the most disgusting tea I have ever tasted in my life and eating tiny slices of bananas, oranges, and berries together while the rain falls around us. This is the most romantic moment of my life, and I don't know if that makes me incredibly lucky or extremely pathetic, but at this very second, I feel nothing short of elation. I don't want the rain to ever stop because I just want to stay here with him in this place forever.
“You don't have to drink the tea,” he says.
“But I want to. It's so delicious.”
“It's disgusting and you know it.” He gives me a half grin that I find irresistibly sexy.
“No, it's … amazing.”
“Is that why your face winces every time you have a sip?”
“Well, it might be just a tad tart for my taste, but I am rather picky, so I don't want you to feel at all bad. It's the thought and all the effort that counts.”
“You’re a true diplomat.”
“It’s one of the few skills I have perfected.”
He snaps his fingers. “Let's add some more honey to it.”
“Yes, thank God! Because it really is awful.”
We both laugh, then share one of those gazing-into-each-other's-eyes-longingly moments that have been happening more and more often over the last two days. I want him so badly, there is literally nothing I can do to keep the thought of our nude bodies doing very naughty things to each other out of my mind.
“I found something while I was out getting that honey. I thought you might like to know about it,” he says in a low tone.
“Really?” I swallow hard, finding myself slightly afraid of his answer.
“Remember how, in your entire life, your greatest wish has always been to go skinny dipping?”
“I remember saying something to that effect.” My heart pounds in my chest while I wait for what he’s about to say next.
“There’s an extremely beautiful lagoon about half a mile from here.”
“Is there?” I ask in a breathy tone.
Nodding, Will says, “Crystal clear blue water fed by a gentle waterfall, surrounded by lush, green foliage.”