I was going home from church when I met Captain. He was walking between four men and I could judge from the look on his face that he did not enjoy the company. There were two others behind them, I could not tell whether they were together, but it was easy to conclude that somehow they were all in the same group. To me they appeared to be more of police officers than Captain's regular associates.
I slowed down as we neared each other, I was sure Captain could not pass without saying hello to me. I stretched my hand to greet him and at first he pretended not to know who I was. All of them stopped. The two who were a few paces behind, reached us and stopped. When they realized Captain was not willing to shake hands with me, one of them talked.
"Why don't you greet your friend? Don't you want us to know her?"
Captain's answer surprised me, but by the time I realized what he meant, it was too late. "She's not my friend, I do not know her, I have never even seen her and I guess she is mistaking me for somebody else."
"Do you know this man, young lady?" one of them asked me. I wished I had given a negative answer. But in order to prove myself smart I admitted knowing him.
"When did you know him?"
"They came with my husband home."
"Who is your husband, I mean what is his name?"
I saw Captain look at me and wink. It at once struck me that these were police officers and he did not want me to mention the name of my husband, Captain was right
then under arrest and had probably been forced to direct them to where Jack stayed and did not want to do so. But as Captain winked, one of the officers noticed. That alone brought trouble. I was confused. My first thought was to give them a name, a phoney name and so I said: "He is called Bonnie Mwangi."
"What does he do? I mean where does he work?"
"In town, with DT Dobie."
"Do you know that we can arrest you for telling a lie?"
"I am not lying to you, why should I?"
"Do you mean if we go to town right now we will find him on duty?"
"Just call the company and confirm, they'll tell you whether he is in or not." Although I had some fear in me, I wasn't going to allow them to scare me stiff. I knew I was not guilty, and knowing Captain and whatever he did for a living didn't mean I was guilty of an offence. I waited for the next question. I was decided not to tell them any truth. I had sworn to protect Jack and I was going to do it at whatever cost, even if it meant telling lies.
"Where do you stay with your husband, young lady?"
"Call me Mrs. Bonnie or Mwangi but not young lady," I said boldly.
"Okay Mrs. Bonnie, where do you stay?"
"On Eleventh Street, plot number 4243, door number 6." That was one place I had never been to and I hadn't the slightest idea whether there did exist a plot with that number. I knew they too didn't know and was almost certain that they were not going to ask me to take them there. One of them took out a notebook and a pen and made me repeat the number, which I did. I was afraid that I would contradict myself, as the number had just entered my mind at random. Well, whether I did or not, they too had not noticed.
"Mrs. Bonnie," the one who seemed to me more senior than the rest called. "I have no doubt that you are a nice woman, all I would tell you is to try and avoid associating with characters like this one. Do you know what he does?"
"Well, if he is nice to me I do not see why I shouldn't talk to him."
"Wasn't it about two minutes ago that he pretended not to know you? Can you guess why?"
"That's what I mean, Mr… Mr…" "Sang." He helped me.
"Yes, Mr Sang, what I was saying was, when he pretended not to know me I forgot about him." It was a good lie.
"This man is a robber, do not let him get involved with your husband much. Anyway, I'll try to visit the number you have given us, this evening or tomorrow morning."
"That was that, I knew what his visit meant and I was glad I had thought of giving them a phoney number. I crossed the street and headed in the direction away from our home. I was feeling uneasy, for I knew their presence in this area meant trouble for Jack. I had left him at home doing nothing and I was afraid he would get bored and decide to move a bit. It would be risky, because the places he visited most while at home were around the very area the police were already combing. I wanted to reach home quickly and warn him, but this long route I was following would make a great difference. I had no doubt that my hurrying attracted attention: I was half running and half walking. I happened to look back to see how far away the cops were so that I could turn and head in the right direction. I saw that two of the cops were following me, at a distance. They wanted me to lead them to my husband, which made me realize that they had not swallowed my lies.
My heart started its racing which I thought sounded like the hooves of a horse running. I didn't know what to do. For, not being very familiar with this area where I resided, I knew of no short cuts which I could use to dodge them and then run to warn Jack that hell had broken loose.
A matatu that had just stopped to drop commuters gave me an idea. I thanked the angel who had made me take the direction I had followed. This matatu went round First Avenue to Second Avenue, where our home was. I looked behind and saw that the cops were out of sight. I had gone around a corner, entered a lane between two blocks and emerged on the other side, where I now saw the matatu. I jumped in and it took off.
I kept looking behind, although I was sure the cops, had not seen me enter the matatu. I remember hating matanus for speeding but right now I could only compare this one with a tortoise. It was funny that the woman I sat next to was claiming that the driver was overspeeding. In less that five minutes, I was at Wood Street. I alighted and ran the fifty metres home.
Jack was a funny man. While I was worrying myself to death and running in the streets, he was comfortably sitting on the sofa, his legs stretched on the coffee table. A Thermos flask I had filled with tea as I went out, was beside him on the floor. He was completely relaxed.
"Hey, Babe," he called loudly as I entered, "you look cute, it seems you've been having a nice time somewhere. I have drained your Thermos." He started laughing and funny enough, the laughter was not a forced one. He seemed to be in a very quiet, relaxed mood. I looked at him, just as a mother looks at an innocent baby and without intending it, I put my arms akimbo, to look at this ignorant "Son of Fate". He looked straight in my eyes and winked;
sometimes he was like a baby. He also seemed to feel protected in my hands, and my presence always seemed to give him inspiration of some kind. Before I said anything, I found myself laughing too. What for, only heaven could tell. In most cases when there were only the two of us, we tended to behave and even felt like school children.
"Jack, ever been told that you are a good fool? Has anybody ever been kind enough to tell you that? It would be a favour."
"I doubt whether they have been born."
"Who?"
"Those who can have the courage to tell me that. Anyone telling me that had better talk to a grave-digger." Again k " ^d laughing; it was as if what he said was a laughable matter.
"Then here I am. I have let you know, but I am sorry I haven't talked to a gravedigger, so please spare me."
"And that is what makes you different from the others…Ha! Ha! Ha!" I went and sat beside him, a mist of thoughts crossing my mind. Just a few metres from where we were was trouble, trouble enough to part me from him for days, weeks, months or even years. Here was this husband of mine, looking relaxed, without the slightest worry in the world; feeling protected by something he couldn't even tell. Telling him of what was happening outside the door would change his mood, would set him worrying and uneasy; a thing I wouldn't have liked to happen, for I liked him the way he was right now. But he seemed to have read my thoughts, and realized that I wasn't with him in the house, though I did not show it.
"There is something worrying you, dear; tell me." "But I am not worried, not in your presence. I am only a little tired."
"In that case I'll go for a walk, while you rest a bit. I am also tired of sitting here all morning."
That started me off. I knew he would go and that was the last thing I wanted him
to do. I told him: "You know…but promise me one thing before I tell you." "What is it?"
"That you won't leave here the whole day."
"That will depend on what you'll tell me. It is a decision the two of us should make when we both know about it." He was no longer in his good mood. He was a man who sensed trouble before he got into it. I decided to tell him. After all, he was right when he said we should both know before we decided. I shouldn't have made the decision alone.
"Captain is under arrest. I met him near the church. I gave him the whole story up to the time I entered the house to find him relaxed on the sofa. He listened carefully, not interrupting, till I had finished and the worry on his face was gone. He then sighed with relief and stood up.
"Milly, dear, Captain is the best friend I have and I can't let this happen to him. I must go."
"Please, Jack…, please don't. I'll die of worry if you leave this place, knowing what it is like where you are going."
"Do me one favour, Milly."
"What is it? But please do not ask me to let you go out."
"Remember what I told you some months back? I hate offending you and when you insist on some things which I know too well how to handle, you'll soon lose me. You'll put me into so much trouble that you'll wish you had never interfered. It might be too late then to regret."
"I am sorry, Jack. What was the favour you wanted?"
"Give me one thousand shillings. Will you?"
Yes. but please take care. I stood up and went to my locker. There was just about enough money, which meant that I would be left with three hundred shillings. All the same that didn't matter, what was of uttermost importance was Jack's safe:
When I went back to the living room. I caught him red handed, wearing his gun. He tried to hide it. but I let him know that I had seen it. If anything. I was not going to allow him to carry that one. It meant that he was heading straight into trouble with the police. I couldn't stand that.
"Here is what you asked for.'* He took the money and smiled shyly at the thought that I had seen the gun. He knew I would talk about it.
"Thank you. I'll be back in ten minutes time."
"But why the gun? Why carry it if all you are going to do is to buy off Captain's release. You won't go with it.'
"Now. Milly— I am sorrv. anyway. I did not want you to see it. Should we go all over that again?
over what? I asked. I wasn't happy and I wasn't going to pretend to be. just to please him.
: me tell you one thing you've never taken time to consider. And this at times makes me wonder why you people read the Bible. It clearly tells you that under the sun there is everything and everything has its purpose."
"'The Bible reader… I thought. And he couldn't get the words to express his meaning which 1 had already guessed.
He continued: There are two things in this world which go together. And the only two things that work out things perfectly are peace and war. When there is no war there is peace: when there is no peace there is war By one of these two things I'll get Captain out of trouble. This money you've just given me stands for peace This rod I have car
n
ricd stands for war. I can assure you that with either of the two, Captain will be free within minutes. Have these two things, Milly, and you'll inherit heaven as surely as the meek."
There was nothing to argue about that. When Jack believed in something it was useless, and probably suicidal, to try to make him believe otherwise. He walked out of the room after I had wished him good luck, which I was sure he needed very much right then. But he didn't look or seem worried; it was as if he was going out to buy some cigarettes. I took the Thermos flask, the cup Jack had used and the rest of the dishes he had brought from the small cupboard and after cleaning them up, I got back to the living room. I knew that with Jack in what I assumed was trouble, I wasn't going to have any rest.
I sat down and as usual when I had something bothering me in mind, I started imagining queer things. The trouble was that I never saw Jack out of trouble. I always imagined him in the deep of it, and this always reminded me to pray for him. I could not fail to think that Jack was stupid enough to try to shoot at the police in trying to save the life of his friend, Captain, a man who was described by the police as a dangerous robber. What would stop the cops from shooting him, if he went anywhere near them? What if they caught him with the unlicensed gun? Wouldn't that be an offence in itself? Then probably the gun would be proved to have been used in various robberies. Wouldn't they charge him with more offences?
I do not know how long I sat there thinking and asking myself questions to which there were answers. When I looked up, it was to answer a knock at the door. When I opened, Captain was standing there, smiling. I did not know what to make of it. I stood aside to let him get in.
"Where is he? What happened? Is he in trouble? Tell me, Captain…the real truth, please. I can't go…"
He didn't have to answer. Jack emerged and touched me from behind. I jumped. The first thing that I thought was that the police had tailed Captain, without his knowledge and now I was being arrested. Jack turned me round and kissed me on the mouth. I opened mine wide to accept whatever goodies he was delivering to me. I got hold of his waist, ignoring the presence of Captain and before I became conscious of whatever we were doing, we were on the floor. I didn't know who had downed who. All I, knew was that Jack was now on top of me.
"I told you, Milly," he told me as we sat down, "there was nothing to it. Here is Captain. How long did I take?"
"You took years. I hate you."
"Thank you for being so frank. Here, get back your money."
I didn't know what to think about Jack. It seemed he knew his way about this world of crime. I was sure he had taken more than thirty minutes. I looked at Captain, for whose life my husband had taken a risk and started remembering the time I had met him in the company of the police. He was then helpless, unhappy, miserable and worried. He had looked so ugly that you would think you were looking at an old shoe. He now looked relaxed^ happy and without a care in the world.
"Mama," Captain called me, "you are a great woman. You saved my life. I hope you understood why I pretended not to know you?"
"I understood, but I am sorry it was too late. You know…"
"You did a wonderful thing, especially when you went the wrong way. I thought you would come straight home
and I was sure that they would follow you."
"How did you get out of it?" I was eager to know how he had been freed, because I had earlier on been told that there were only two ways to do it. And I was sure one of them had not been used, since the money I had given for a "peaceful release" was given back to me. Before Captain could talk I heard Jack say: "That, Milly, is not your business. The less you know about it the safer you are. You had better give him something to swallow rather than ask questions. I am sure he is dying with hunger. That place is no man's home." I left them and went to the kitchen. Captain left for town after supper, which was around 7.30 p.m. When Jack came back, he went straight to bed. The good mood he had been in that morning had been swallowed by either Captain or his rescue. That night he did not want stories; he wanted to rest and think and I let him be.
I sat in the office doing nothing but thinking. It now seemed as if I lived in the world of thoughts. When I was not worrying about Jack's safety I was worrying about myself. There was no doubt that his love had driven me crazy. I could guess why: if it wasn't for the fact that I had not known any other man before him, it was that I was intended to be his. There were times when I thought that had I met other men, probably I would have known the difference. But right now, I had no one to compare him to since he was the one person who saw me through school life, and the same one who saw me through my teenage.
It was about nine months now since I moved into his house. Things had started taking a new shape. We had promised mom that we would prepare for a wedding when we had saved enough money. She had started insisting that
we keep our promise, but looking at Jack I could tell that there was nothing like that in his mind. Things were bad on my side for I realized that I was pregnant.
This had come at a very odd time. Jack had of recent become restless. He stayed indoors most of the time and I knew that he did not have money; a thing he hated to be short of. I also learnt that he was at the top of the "wanted list" of the police and adding my troubles to what he already had was a thing I could not bring myself to do. I wanted him to be calm, to feel free and protected. So the best I could do was to keep on giving him money; all that I had saved from what he had given me and from my own salary. It was enough to keep him indoors for six good months, with drinks. But Jack was not that type. The most he would ask for was twenty shillings for cigarettes. I would leave five hundred on the bedside locker for him as I went to work and when I returned, he would have used only fifteen shillings or none at all.
I considered all these facts as I sat on my desk and decided not to tell Jack that sleeping on me almost daily had brought about an as yet invisible third party to our home. So, for the first time, I visited a clinic and the third party, perhaps a would-have-been future king, was got rid of. But I felt I wasn't guilty; I convinced myself that it was yet another strategic move I had taken to protect my Jack. Though I had sworn not to tell him, I couldn't stick to it. When he was in a good mood one night, I told him the whole story. I was helpless before his eyes.
The whole of that week I kept on feeling helpless, uneasy and worried, as if I was expecting something bad to happen to both of us. It was an odd feeling, because in most cases I worried when Jack was out, especially if I happened to hear that some outlaws were in the hands of the law.
This time Jack was always at home, going out to the shop for cigarettes only in the evenings and coming back straight away.
My worries worsened when he told me one evening: "Mil-ly, I have a very bad feeling. Something bad is going to happen to me. I have kept indoors all this time, trying to figure out why the police are so hot on my trail and no matter how much I try, I just can't figure it out. I have become impatient, I can't take this any longer. Tomorrow I must go and find out from friends. I am telling you, because I do not want you to start worrying yourself to the grave. But I must go. I cannot live this way and I do not want any objections, because, Milly, when a person like you interferes and I fail to take heed, I go straight into trouble.
"You shouldn't have told me then, because you knew that I must object.
"Okay…dig your own grave, because I must."
He was really worried; he looked like somebody who had swallowed a live bee and was being stung inside. I knew what would cure him right then. I got hold of him and kissed him. I caressed him the way he did to me, touching every sensitive part of his body. By the time I was through, he was in dreamland. He woke up two hours later, happy and looking relaxed.
We went out of the house together the following morning. When our service car came, I boarded it and he went across the road to take a bus to town. I wanted to withdraw some money from my bank as it was a Friday and I had promised a friend that we would go to her place outside the city the following day.
At around eleven thirty, I asked the boss to grant me permission, which he did. I arrived in town at twelve. I
was about to cross Kenyatta Avenue when I saw a car coming at a very high speed and just then, I heard sirens from different police 999 squad cars. The traffic lights were red but at the speed the runaway car was going there was no possibility of it braking on time. Another car coming at right angles had now got the green light to go ahead. Everyone who was around the area opened their mouths wide to witness the accident which all believed was going to take place.
As the second car reached the intersection, the runaway car was dangerously close; its headlights were on, hooting like mad, making us almost deaf. When it reached where I was, I saw the driver. It was none other than my husband, Jack, being chased by four police cars.
I remember screaming so loudly that everyone turned their attention to me. I saw the picture of Jack behind the wheel: a wild look on his face, his hair standing upright because of the wind that entered through the open window. I waited, holding my breath, to see him crash into the other car, which had skidded to a violent halt.
By the time Jack's car reached the spot, my eyes were closed. I plugged my ears with my fingers so as not to hear the loud bang which would leave me without a husband. But even with ears plugged I could hear the police squad cars sirens as they passed by.
I do not know for how long I remained thus. Then I unplugged my ears. I was not yet ready to see the corpse of my husband. I heard someone remark: "Lo! He has made it! Whoever he is, he can drive."
That alone brought me to the world again. I opened my eyes. Jack had made it, so far, but the cops were still on his trail. Even without being told, I knew the matter was now even worse.
I saw a group gathered at the place from which the speeding cars had emerged. I was sure they were talking about it and that they probably knew what it was all about. I headed straight there. The only eyewitness had already given the story and left; the others were giving second-hand information and the more it was narrated the more the story lacked sense. But there had at least to be a gist of truth in it. All I gathered was that Jack had been spotted by police officers, who asked him to stop. They weren't armed, so he refused to stop and took off on foot.
Just then, the police stopped a passing patrol car and Jack, realizing he was going to get cornered, took out a gun and hijacked a whiteman's car. He forced him to step out, then grabbed the keys and took off just as the police car reached him. Knowing that he was wanted by the police (why else had he stayed indoors for weeks?), I was inclined to believe the story.
Having seen the chase with my own eyes, I couldn't believe Jack was safe. There were many police cars involved and the thought that he would outsmart them all seemed incredible. That, I believed, did not depend only on expert driving; it needed unlimited good luck. I doubted whether he had all that!
From that place I went straight home. The events of that day had upset all my plans. Even those of my friend had gone down the drain. I knew I couldn't do anything until I had known the fate of my husband. I wouldn't see the outside of our home until Jack came back.
When I boarded a bus, I was surprised to hear some people talking of the chase. Those who were along Ronald Ngala Street said that the car had knocked down a pedestrian and that to avoid the jam along the street the driver kept right, his headlights full on to warn other drivers of
82
^
an emergency.
The curtains of our house showed that Jack was already home. I couldn't believe it. How could he have managed it? With fear and joy in my heart, I opened the door, which was not locked. He was there, lying on the sofa as usual. It was hard to understand Jack. When you thought you knew all about him, he did something else which told you that you knew but very little.
He stood up, smiling broadly, and came to meet me. His face announced happiness and satisfaction of some kind. He held me and pulled me to his chest and I felt the hands caressing me, from my head down to my hips, going far down to my thighs. I remembered the tender touch of his hands as I knew them during my school days. I remembered the day he broke through me, the first day I went to bed with him and how I had passed away to the invisible clouds under his light weight; how he had removed me from class 'A', the class of virgins, to class 'B' of the married. The thought that he had turned out to be a confirmed criminal, who seemed to enjoy every minute of danger, disgusted me. But there was this thing in him: all the qualities of a good and responsible husband.
I felt my body becoming weaker and weaker as he continued to caress me. In another minute the same invisible cloud that always hid us from the world of reality came to us. My knees gave in and I found myself on the floor. He came down with me, and by the time the cloud had vanished, it was heading to four o'clock.
I made tea and sat with him at the table. "Tell me, Jack, how did you manage it?"
"Manage what, for God's sake? Have you been dreaming again about the dogs, the unco-operative people, and the wide river where I was supposed to be drowning?"
If I hadn't witnessed the incident with my own eyes, I would have believed I had dreamt the whole thing. He had asked the question in a way which showed complete innocence. It was as if he hadn't even left the house any time of the day.
"Jack, please do not reveal a new chapter about yourself to me. Let me stick to the little that I know about you."
"And what do you mean by that, dear? You know little about me? Who on earth then does?"
"No one, not even me, and it might take ages for anyone to know you. I mean, even when someone is quite sure of what she is talking about, you are able to change her mind. For instance, Jack, I…I… was in town when what I am talking about happened. I saw you in that car. I was a few metres from the traffic lights on Kenyatta Avenue. Now when I ask you about it, you act as if you have been sitting here the whole day and almost making me believe I am wrong."
He smiled and held me. His lie didn't mean anything to him even with the knowledge that it had been proved to be so.
"I am sorry, dear. I didn't want to go to prison and leave you alone. I had to save my life. Someone pointed me out to the police. Did you read about that Nakuru bank-raid last month? Another beast swears that I was the getaway driver." I looked at him, looking sad as he tried to prove his innocence about the particular robbery. I pitied him, not for his innocence, but for the troubles he took to try and convince me that he wasn't there.
"Well," I said, "the man could be right. And if he is, there is no need of…"
"You are another one, Milly," he said as he stood up and started to look for a newspaper. On finding it, he came back to the seat. On the front page was the headline:
GANGSTERS RAID NAKURU BANK. He told me: 'Have a look here, dear. What date did it take place? Remember where we were the previous day? The date here is 15th and the paper talks of'Yesterday' which was 14th. Now go to the calendar and check where we were, if you can't remember."
It surprised me how criminals could prove their alibi. I remembered we had gone to a wedding party, where we had spent the night. But that didn't mean that he wasn't a robber; it only explained that he didn't participate in that particular one. I pushed him a bit further. I liked the way he was trying to prove his innocence and I enjoyed to see him show signs of regret for his criminal life. I said: "Oh, sure darling, that proves your innocence…" I saw him relax. I added: "What of the Machakos bank? Where were we? I was on duty, and you?"
He smiled, bringing that topic to an end. "Dear, it is useless to prove one case while you are guilty of another of the same kind, same style, same sentence if you are caught up with, and same…"
"You can tell that to the monkeys, Milly. If you have so much concern why don't you get me a job with the East African Airways?"
"As a what? Bring any certificate you have…oh yes, give me your driving licence, they need a driver. I'll…"
"Me ! To become a driver? Going around every estate in Nairobi collecting people and taking them to Embakasi? And some of you, dressed like angels, stay in Matharc, but when you are in the offices and crossing the streets wearing those miniskirts with stinking perfumes, one might think you stay in heaven. Go get yourselves a good driver from the slums. Hell have respect for you people. He'll go to his knees to make you happy. The best I can do to such women is give them a nice screw and…"
"My God! Jack, you can't talk that way. I just can't believe those words are coming from your mouth."
"I am sorry, I didn't put you anywhere there, did I?"
"Of course not, dear, but isn't that language dirty? I can't imagine…"
"Don't tell me I have formed a new language. It might make me feel great, you know?"
That was that. It was his way of bringing an unpleasant thing to an end. And when he did it, everything got back to normal again.