Page 46

forty-five f

Everything Changes

W aititu drove the guys to the fields twice a week. Tina, Edie, and I spent most of our time at home. By now, I’d had enough of Kenya, Mike, and our artificial life. I missed my kids. I missed Florida. I even missed dancing, or at least earning my own living.

Mike made up one excuse after another to go into Mombasa. I knew he was seeing his “side piece,” Liz, and I knew confronting him would do no good. I also knew Ben needed me in Kenya until the fields were harvested.

By now Rajiv realized we weren’t into gems. His visits became more frequent, his payoffs larger.

“Mike’s gonna get us into a lot of trouble if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut,” Maurice said.

“I think we’re already in hot water,” I replied.

“Don’t say anything to anybody else, but I’m flying home tomorrow,” Maurice said.

“Who’ll keep Mike in line?” I asked.

“I don’t think anybody can. Ben needs me back home.”

“Wish I could join you.”

“You keep Mike out of trouble until the plants are harvested, then ask Ben to bring you home. You should be outta here by Christmas.”

“I’ll miss you.” I hugged Maurice.

Once Maurice was gone, the mercenaries also disappeared. Were they on vacation or did Ben need them back home?

“Glad to see them mercenaries are gone,” Mike said. “Betcha they were after Maurice for some shit.”

You’re delusional, Mike.

“Not to change the subject, but I’m gonna ask Rajiv for help gettin’ the crop outta the country,” Mike said.

“You’ll do no such thing!” It was rare for me to stand up to Mike.

“He’s a lawyer and knows everybody,” Mike argued.

“Exactly. He’ll have us busted.”

“Y’know this whole country’s corrupt. We’ve been payin’ off Rajiv since we got here. He’s on our side.”

“Talk to Waititu,” I suggested. “Or call Ben. He may already have something arranged.”

Mike stood over me, raised his hand to slap my face, then pulled it away. “I’m in charge here, get it? This is my operation and don’t you forget it.”

“I get it all right.”

Two more months and I’m gone. Those words would keep me going.

“What’re you gonna be for Halloween?” Tina asked me.

“I don’t think they celebrate Halloween in Kenya,” I replied.

“Remember how we used to dress up when we were dancing?”

“I do.” I couldn’t believe I was looking back fondly on my dancing days.

“I don’t care if we dress up. I’m just thinking about breaking up the monotony,” Tina said.

“Me and Carl are thinking about going home. This is getting old,” Edie said.

“You can’t leave me here alone,” I pleaded. “And Mike needs Carl.”

“Carl said they’ll harvest after Thanksgiving,” Edie said.

“They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here either,” I said.

Halloween was on a Monday in 1977. We’d given our housekeeping staff the night off and decided to have a party without costumes. The guys opened a bottle of single malt scotch. I made a pitcher of vodka and tonic for the girls. Mary, our cook, had made us trays of appetizers earlier in the day. And the pièce de résistance, our freshly dried pot.

A party was exactly what we needed to lift our spirits. We spent happy hour by the pool, then moved indoors after sunset. Around nine o’clock, we heard several vehicles pull into our driveway.

“Did you invite anybody?” I asked Mike.

“I didn’t tell nobody about tonight, not even Waititu,” Mike replied.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Fists, or something heavier, pounded on the door.

We sat, frozen.

“ Open up! Police! ”

“Flush the pot!” Edie whispered.

We could flush the soup bowl of pot in front of us, but what about the five-plus pounds drying in the closet upstairs?

“ Open up or we break down the door! ”

Carl grabbed the bowl and ran for the bathroom. Mike opened the door.

“Police. We’re searching for guns, ivory, drugs.”

At least twenty police officers crowded into our living room.

“ Stand! ” they commanded.

We all stood. They slashed the cushions on our new furniture and pulled open every drawer, dumping the contents on the floor.

I thought about asking for a search warrant, but I had no idea if warrants were needed in Kenya.

Three officers held Mike, Edie, Tina, and me at gunpoint. Carl was still upstairs. The other officers split into groups of two or three and tore apart the rest of the house.

“ Up here! ”

So much for Carl flushing our evening’s stash. They’d found the mother lode.

Two officers carried the bulk of our marijuana into the living room. “You are under arrest for international smuggling and possession with intent to distribute.”

“That’s our personal supply. We’re not smugglers!” Mike screamed.

“Hold out your hands!” the officer commanded.

Each of us was handcuffed. With guns pointing at our backs, we marched outside and into police cars.

We were allowed one phone call before they locked us up. Mike called Rajiv, who promised to bail us out in the morning.

“Why not tonight?” I whispered.

“Just be glad he’s comin’,” Mike said.

Tina, Edie, and I were pushed into a dank, dark holding cell that reeked of urine and unwashed bodies. A mattress, ripped at the seams, lay on the floor next to a concrete bench. Flies slept on a toilet in the corner. A large plastic bin of stagnant water was home to more flies.

Edie burst into tears. Tina and I clung to her.

“It’s only one night,” I said.

“But what if it’s not? What if Rajiv doesn’t come? What if we stay here forever?”

“Shh, Edie.” I stroked her back and prayed she was wrong.

“At least we’re alone,” Tina said.

Except for the flies.

Rajiv didn’t come for us until late morning, but he kept his promise and bailed us out.

“You made the front page of the paper.” Rajiv showed us a copy of the Standard newspaper. The headline read, “Five Americans Arrested for Drug Trafficking.” Fortunately, our photos weren’t included, but a photo of two police officers and our private stash were.

Rajiv drove us home and waited while we showered. We joined him in the kitchen where Mary had prepared a welcome-home brunch.

“I am not worried,” Rajiv said. “The government has no proof of intent to distribute or international smuggling. You had five pounds of marijuana. I will make sure you only pay a fine.”

“I can’t spend another night in jail,” Mike said.

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Rajiv promised. “The government doesn’t want a scandal, especially with Americans.”

“Cool, man.” Mike was back to his cocky self.

“You have a court date in three weeks,” Rajiv said. “It will take money for the judge and my fee. Will that be a problem?”

“Not a problem,” Mike replied.

Mike gave Rajiv the bulk of our cash, which covered our bail and his so-called legal fees.

After Rajiv left, Mike called a meeting.

“Well, that sucked,” he began.

“It don’t sound like we’ve got anything to worry about,” Carl said.

“What’re you gonna tell Ben?” I asked.

“The truth,” Mike said. “He won’t care.”

Just don’t tell him how you shot off your big mouth to Rajiv.

“What do we do between now and then?” Edie asked.

“Go back to our lives. You heard Rajiv. We’ll get a slap on the wrist, pay a fine, and harvest our crop,” Mike said.

And then I’m outta here.