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On Monday afternoon, Pauline and Tilly were back at the animal shelter. This time they walked four of the older dogs. They had put them back in the kennels next to the fenced-in dog run when they noticed a crowd gathered under the trees by the shelter office. A police officer was talking to the staff. Tilly couldn’t hear the conversation, but the staff appeared nervous. The police officer took notice of her and Pauline and began to walk over to them. This doesn’t look good, she thought. She looked around to assess her options.
To her left was a field with gray and brown donkeys grazing. As cute as they were, the donkeys wouldn’t serve as any kind of exit. Her Defender was parked over to the right, which would require passing the police officer. There would be no avoiding him. Whatever was going on today at the shelter, she would have to deal with it.
“Habari,” Tilly greeted him, playing it cool.
“Habari, madam. I’m Officer Irungu. Would you kindly show me your work permits, please?”
“Oh, we’re not working. We’re just volunteering,” Pauline said and then immediately clammed up.
“You need permits for volunteering,” Officer Irungu said, puffing up his chest. The action strained the buttons on the white, starched shirt of his uniform. “Come with me. I’ll need to make a note of your identification.”
They walked over to his car where Pauline and Tilly showed him their IDs. Upon seeing Pauline’s diplomatic identification card, he frowned. “Wait here,” he said. “Someone will come to collect you for the station in Gigiri. Still, you should know, being a diplomat doesn’t mean you can break the law. You people think you can do whatever you want. The rules apply to you too!”
He then returned to the office where he made a phone call. He turned to where Tilly and Pauline waited and shouted out, “The Gigiri police are coming just now,” and then he resumed talking to the staff.
“I think he wanted a bribe but then saw your diplomatic ID card,” Tilly said.
“Is that good or bad?”
“It bought us time. Let me make a quick call. Stand here and block me from view.”
Pauline did as she was told, shifting from side to side on either foot as she stood. Tilly put a hand on Pauline’s arm to calm her. No need to be concerned quite yet, she said to herself. I have a plan.
“Hello! This is Tilly Fleming. I need to speak with John Waweru,” she spoke into her cell phone. After a short pause, she continued. “Hi, John! You’re doing well? Yes...yes, we’re all good. Listen, I’m with a friend and we’re in a little bit of a bind. Do you think you can help us?”
After another pause, she explained their situation. She nodded as she listened to John. Then she smiled and gave Pauline a thumbs-up. She thanked John and hung up the phone.
“We should be fine. John’s a friend of mine and he’s a lawyer. He says to stay put. He thinks he can make a few calls and set things straight.”
“That’s good, but isn’t someone coming to take us to a police station?”
“They are, but they’re coming from Gigiri. You know how long it takes to get here from our side of town. Plus, he said they’re coming ‘just now,’ and you know that means next to never. It’ll take hours. We’ll be fine. Let’s wait in the Defender.”
Tilly checked her phone as they waited. She had five missed calls from her mother. That was no surprise since she had deliberately missed those calls. She also had a few messages from her brother, Greg, in Los Angeles:
Heard you can’t go to Francine’s wedding. We can’t either. Mom is piiiiiiissed.
We might go visit Mom another time. I think she misses us. We’re so far from her. That said, I should thank you. You make us seem closer even though we’re on the other side of the country!
We want to visit you again next year. The kids are complaining that we didn’t go to the beach last time and want to remedy that. Let me see if I can talk Mom into coming with us. You do want to see her, right?
This unnerved Tilly. Of course, I want to see her. Why would he ask that? She wrote back to him:
I know she misses all of us. I miss her too and yes, of course, I want to see her! Am I so awful to want her to come to me for once? You came here and you had to travel farther! She has no excuse.
Out of guilt, she typed a message to her mother:
Sorry. Been crazy busy. Will try to call you soon. Please think about coming to visit us. How about next year?
That message would not appease her mother, but it would have to do. She would write more later when she had an idea of what else to say. She looked at Pauline, who was engrossed in Instagram. I should get onto that. It might be a way to show everyone how nice it is here. Tilly spotted the police officer walking back over to them. Well, how nice it usually is here, anyway.
The officer tapped on the side of the Defender. “Ladies, can you please come out of the vehicle?” He waited until they got out and stood before him. “It seems you have permits in process. You could have told me this before, you know. You still shouldn’t volunteer until they are official and physically in your hands. For today, I will let you go free with a warning this time since you are trying to do things the right way.”
“Thank you,” Tilly said. “We will hold off on all volunteer work until we have the permits. I promise.”
“See that you do. We’re cracking down on illegal workers. It’s not only a problem in your home countries, you know. So many of you people come here and cheat the system using tourist visas. It’s not right.” With that, he turned and headed back to his police vehicle.
“Thanks for getting us out of this,” Pauline said to Tilly, once they were on their way back.
“It was all John, and I’ll owe him a nice lunch for this. But it’s all good.”
“Should I do anything to thank him too?”
“Nah,” she said, waving off the suggestion. “John and I go way back, even before we moved to Kenya. He used to work with Dave at the flower company. He was part of the general counsel’s office. Now he has a private practice. He and his wife are our oldest friends here. He’s Peter’s godfather, you know. So, don’t worry about it. I got this. Like I said, it’s all good.”