Henry The Honey Badger and The Quality of Mercy

By Themistocles Jacks

In "Henry The Honey Badger and the Quality of Mercy", it's the end of the season of heat, and the beginning of the season of rain. And a perfect storm of problems are on the horizon. Colonel Matebe Soto has brought order to the army's weapons training and rebuilt the ranges. His first firearms class is a trial run for nine police cadets and three women members of Ghost Force. One of the police cadets has an attitude problem and Colonel Soto does not put up with attitude problems.

Narcissa Dikeledi Kajembe Dzerzhinsky de Moi has an attitude problem, too. And once again, she plans to take it out on Malinda. Kidnapping, murder, and mayhem ensue. But fear not, Henry is on the case.

Of course, this is Malinda, and while there is no shortage of violence, there is far more kindness, friendship, and romance. And Henry helps his people creature friends with matters of the heart, as well.

Henry is a remarkable honey badger. He lives in the tiny African nation of Malinda, and speaks fluent English. He studies philosophy and formal logic. He is a military hero, the first Long Range Reconnaissance Honey Badger, and a member of Ghost Force, an elite special warfare unit.

Henry has many people creature friends, and when they have problems, Henry always helps them. And they always seem to have problems. But as Henry says, "When you solve one problem, don't get lazy or another one will sneak up and bite you."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667839394

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was the Sunday afternoon after Christmas, and Henry was sprawled on the floor in Cecil and Miriam Richardson’s kitchen. Cecil said, Henry, you haven’t eaten in several hours. Would you care for a can of Spam or something to tide you over until dinner?

Henry said, No thanks, inspector.

Miriam looked up from the papers she was focused on. A honey badger declining food was something unheard of.

She said, Henry, do you feel alright?

Henry said, I’m fine, mma. But I’ve eaten so much lately that my fur feels tight. I’m going on a diet.

Cecil said, Henry, most people wait until after the New Year to start a diet that they have no chance of staying on.

Henry said, But I’m not a people, inspector. I’m a honey badger, and we have more stick-to-itiveness.

Cecil said, Yes, and no trouble with impulse control?

Henry said, Inspector, it’s not polite to talk about that.

Miriam said, Well, as long as you’re alright, that’s what counts.

Henry looked up at Miriam and said, The question is, mma, are you alright? You smell worried.

Miriam said, I smell worried?

Yeah. See, there are these chemicals we honey badgers call hormones. And when you’re frightened or angry or happy or worried, or in the case of a female, pregnant, your body releases different hormones, and I can smell them and tell your psychological and physiological state.

Miriam said, Well, I can assure you, I am not pregnant.

Henry said, No kidding, mma. You smell much too old to be pregnant.

Miriam said, Henry, it’s not polite to talk about that.

Henry said, Then let’s talk about what’s worrying you.

She said, I’m not worried, I’m undecided and perplexed.

Henry said, Ahh, two textbook sources of worry, mma. Indecision and perplexion. We need to get to the bottom of what’s causing them.

Cecil said, Henry, should Miriam lie down on the couch so you can analyze her?

Henry shook his head. Inspector, we don’t do the couch business anymore. Besides, I’m not a Freudian. I’m more of a Jungian with a focus on cognitive behavioral therapy.

Cecil said, Of course, doctor, I forgot. Forgive me.

Henry looked at Miriam. Let’s get back to finding the cause of your problem. Is it related to the papers you’ve been shuffling back and forth and frowning at for the past hour?

Miriam took off her half glasses and said, Well, yes. But I wouldn’t call it a problem.

Henry said, What would you call it?

She said, I’d call it an annoyance.

Henry said, Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere! What is on those papers that is annoying you.

Miriam said, These are the forms I have to fill out to renew my passports.

Henry said, Passports? Plural?

She said, Yes. I have three passports, Malindan, Kenyan and American. And the name on all my passports is Miriam Toleka Hartman.

Henry said, Yeah, I know, mma. Toleka was your birth name, and Hartman was your adoptive name.

She said, Right. And my married name is Richardson.

Henry said, Oh, now I get it. You’re ashamed to put Cecil’s last name on an official document.

Henry clapped his paws and laughed at his own joke. Miriam laughed, too. She said, No, I just have to fill out more forms.

Henry said, Is filling out forms difficult?

She said, No, but it’s time consuming and annoying.

Henry said, That’s an advantage of being a honey badger. We don’t do forms.

She said, Yes, but aren’t names very important to honey badgers?

Henry said, Oh, yeah! They’re very, very, very important. But honey badgers have good memories. We don’t need forms to keep our names straight.

Cecil said, Quite true, Henry. But bureaucrats claim they need forms to keep names straight. Which, by accident, they sometimes do.

Henry said, And that, inspector, is yet another advantage of being a honey badger. We don’t do bureaucrats, either.

Miriam gathered up the forms and said, I’ve got time to fill these out later, but I’ve got a lot of work to do before Wednesday.

Cecil said, Yes, and you need to get your kit together beforehand.

Henry said, The inspector’s right, mma. You don’t want to forget something important and show up for a pistol class without your pistol.

Miriam said, I’ve got everything ready. I’ll check it over again Tuesday afternoon before I leave for Elspeth’s. I’ll spend the night there. Marea and Cassandra will pack all their things in my Jeep and we’ll leave for the range at first light. If we don’t get lost, we should be at the range by 6:30. Registration is at 7:30.

Cecil said, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble going straight there through the wild bush. There’s little or no water in the dongas, and there’s only one spot that’s too steep for the Jeep. If you head east a little, there’s a place where it flattens out.

Henry said, I’ve been all through that country. I know it like the back of my claw. I’ll guide you.

Miriam combed her fingers through her hair and looked at Cecil. Do you think Henry should come with us?

Cecil laughed. You know how Henry is. When he wants to do something, he does it. He’ll likely show up at the range anyway, so you might as well take him with you. And he does know the country.

Henry said, Then it’s settled. I’ll meet you at Elspeth’s shamba on Tuesday for supper. I’m going to head out to the wild bush now. I’ve been hanging around with you people creatures too much. You’re soft and I’m losing my edge.

Miriam said, Ok, Henry. Be careful.

Henry said, Careful? Me? Life is for living, mma. I gotta grab the gusto while I can. I gotta be me. And he disappeared out the door and headed west.

Chapter 2

It was a vividly detailed dream of a conversation that had taken place more than a half century earlier.

In the dream, the young boy looked up at the old man and said, Grandfather, when I grow up I want to be just like you.

The old man laughed. You want to walk with a stick and lose your hair and teeth?

The boy shook his head. No! I want to be a warrior and a great hunter like you were. You led men into battle and killed two lions with your spear.

The old man patted the boy’s head. That was a long time ago when I was young. But now, I am old, and I lead goats into the kraal and kill flies with my whisk. If you live long enough, you will be like I am now.

General David Botshelo told his wife about the dream over breakfast.

Mercy Botshelo said, You’re worried about retiring.

David nodded. New Year’s Day is next Saturday, and it will begin my last year as a soldier. I’ve known it was coming for a long time, but it was always off sometime in the future. Now, I am approaching the time when I will not be able to lead men or kill lions.

Mercy said, But you will always be able to be a respected and valuable man. You just need to be open to new ways to do that.

David sighed. Like leading goats into the kraal and killing flies with my whisk.

She raised her eyebrows. Your grandfather believed it was useful and necessary work.

She took his hand. And he believed that work is what needs to be done, not just what we want to do.

David nodded. And there’s always something that needs to be done.

*****

As the sun rose, Cassandra Hurt began her daily routine on Elspeth Christiaan’s remote shamba west of Nyati. She brewed tea for Marea Thembekile and herself. Elspeth would remain in bed for another hour. At age 90, she needed her beauty sleep.

Cassandra had asked Marea to teach her Malindo, one of the country’s two official languages, the other being English. Every morning, Marea would speak in Malindo, using English only when Cassandra needed help. At first, she spoke in simple sentences, using common words, and pointing. Cassandra was a quick learner, and Marea was surprised at how fast Cassandra progressed. Soon, she was functional, if not fluent, and the two women had real conversations in Malindo. And Marea thought, She has the cutest accent.

After tea, Marea went out to tend the garden and say her morning prayers. Cassandra’s job was to provide musical accompaniment. This morning, she would practice her parts for the upcoming New Year’s Day concert by the Maatlamotse Symphony Orchestra. Cassandra arranged her music on the stand Major Riley had given her at the Thanksgiving party organized to welcome her to Malinda. She opened her instrument case, removed the Gayford carbon fiber viola and ran the bow over the block of rosin Major Riley had also given her.

The instrument was emerald green and she named it St. Patrick. It was far less sensitive to temperature and humidity than her previous wood viola, and held tuning better. Still, she checked her tuning carefully and ran through her warmup exercises. As she did, she reflected on the strange events that forced her to flee the United States, leave everything she knew behind, change her name and settle in the wild bush country west of Nyati.

Just a few months earlier, she had been Samantha Scarletti, an intelligence analyst at the FBI in Washington, DC. She had written a report that documented crimes committed by the nephew of a powerful senator. The senator didn’t like that and made a call. Her boss, Dan Gorski, was ordered to quash the report and fire her. But he was an honorable man and refused. The senator made another call. Early the next morning, as Dan Gorski walked his dog, someone with a suppressed .22 pistol put two rounds in the back of his head. Samantha was next on the list. So, with the help of Patti the Stewardess, she fled the country.

When she was Samantha and worked in Washington, she favored straight skirts, white blouses and pumps with a sensible one inch heel. But that was then. Now, she was Cassandra, and she dressed in the traditional manner of the wild bush country: a simple garment wrapped around her waist called a thokula. It was similar to the male thoku, but made of much finer material in a more feminine pattern, and it wrapped to the left, while the male thoku wrapped to the right. In the wild bush country, traditional men and women did not cover their torsos.

As Marea did, Cassandra put on a tank top or a dress when going to Nyati. One seldom saw bare-breasted women in Nyati anymore, except on days when the conservative, traditional women from the shambas brought their goods and produce in to sell at the farmers’ market. During the season of heat, some women chose to dress traditionally around their homes and while working in their gardens, but most did not. An hour south, in Tunati, it was far more common. Tunati was an artist town, a transient town, where people came to find themselves. After a year, they either did, or they didn’t, and moved on.

In the capital city, Maatlamotse, an hour south of Tunati, the only bare breasts to be seen were in the strip joints by the airport. Marea had been a reporter and TV presenter in Maatlamotse for many years and thought the wild bush country was in many ways far more civilized.

Chapter 3

Major Riley’s camouflage Jeep Rubicon with the big snorkel was parked in front of the Little Dress Shop in Nyati when Miriam arrived to open up.

Dumela, major. Your formal thoku and vest are ready, and Bethany did a fantastic job on them.

Riley said, She was really great to work with, mma. She helped me pick out the fabric. I didn’t know what fabric Cassandra’s concert gown was, and she found it for me.

Miriam said, Yes, and it was a touch of brilliance on her part to make the thoku dark green and the vest with panels of the same material as her gown. It’s a traditional way to compliment a woman. It’s a lovely custom, and very romantic. I think Cassandra will be very touched.

Riley said, Well, I hope she doesn’t think I’m being too presumptuous.

Miriam laughed. Oh, I don’t think you have to worry at all about that. I think she will be pleased and flattered. Why don’t you step into the bathroom, try it on and let us see how you look.

Riley did. While he was changing, Miriam’s assistant, Bethany Tholote, arrived. When Riley emerged in his new outfit, she and Miriam admired him. Miriam said, Major, you look absolutely stunning!

Bethany said, I made the vest a little longer than usual. You’re so tall, it will look better. And it will conceal your pistol completely.

Riley looked in the full length mirror. It does look kind of good, doesn’t it?

Riley changed back into his uniform vest and thoku, paid the bill, gave Bethany a nice tip and thanked them. He said, See you at the concert. Wish me luck.

When he left, Bethany said, I don’t think he’ll need luck, mma. He is very handsome.

Miriam said, Yes, he is. And so tall. Cassandra stands six feet without shoes, and he is another three or four inches taller.

Bethany said, They look nice together. I hope she likes his thoku and vest.

Miriam smiled. What woman wouldn’t?

*****

Major Riley was not the only one who drove to The Little Dress Shop to get a thoku and vest. Theo Nabale, Paddy Finn’s right hand man, sat in his Malinda Safaris Land Cruiser in the parking space next to the Busy Buffalo Bakery. He had learned that Miriam had a hair appointment with Verity Olabumba at 9:30. That would mean Bethany Tholote would be alone in the shop. He watched Major Riley leave at 9:19 and Miriam leave six minutes later. He waited a few minutes, then got out, checked his hair in the side mirror, straightened his tattered thoku and vest, took a deep breath and walked to the little shop. But before he could get there, Nola Debembe, whom everyone agreed was the most disagreeable person in Nyati, maybe in all of Africa, strode up to the door and entered. Theo sighed. Although disappointed, he was a professional hunter and had spent countless hours watching for game at water holes. He would wait in his Land Cruiser, quietly and patiently, for an opportunity to approach his quarry.

Much to his delight, he didn’t have to wait long. Nola would only deal with Miriam, and she stomped out of the shop less than two minutes later.

Taking no chances, Theo ran to the door and opened it. The little bell tinkled as he entered. Bethany looked up and smiled. Dumela, Theo.

He said, Dumela, Bethany. Can I buy a thoku and vest?

She clapped her hands. Of course, you can. I’d love to make them for you.

She stood and picked up a measuring tape. Let me get your measurements. What kind of outfit would you like?

Uh, I don’t know. Something nice. You decide. As she measured, he felt her presence. And felt his heartbeat increase.

She smiled. He melted. She said, I think I know what will look really stunning on you. It will be so much fun to make.

Theo stepped outside just as Miriam returned. She said, "Theo, I’ll get you water. It’s hot out and you look flushed.

Theo took the water, but it wasn’t the heat that caused it.

Chapter 4

Five thousand miles to the east, another predator was watching the water and picking out her prey. Narcissa Dikeledi Kajembe Dzerzhinsky de Moi sat at her table in the restaurant at Raffles Marina in Singapore and scanned