A Tale Of Choice
Page 21
In the next five days most of the paperwork for the children was completed. Because the children didn’t have passports, new ones were ordered, and their citizenship papers initiated. Their grandmother had provided a copy of Tom’s birth certificate, proving him to be an American citizen. But Faith’s citizenship had been a different matter. She had been born in Africa.
Faith’s paperwork held up everything. Shelly needed to get permission for her to enter the United States and to stay with her brother. She had to sign an affidavit stating that she had found the children together on their parent’s farm and that she believed them to be brother and sister. She also stated that she had witnessed what she believed to be their parents, both deceased.
In their little room, they were able to shower, clean their clothing in the sink and pack their few belongings, preparing to leave as soon as all was ready. They read and relaxed, if you could rest with a broken heart. Shelly dreamt of her husband. She yearned for him and prayed that somehow he was alive. But, with each empty day dragging on into another, he never appeared at the gate, nor was any word ever received about him.
Her hopes dimmed, but never died completely. She wanted to stay, waiting for that thin hope of finding Jim to be realized, but how could she? No… she had the children. She would have to leave as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She had to keep them safe.
As the war was being valiantly fought south of the city, they were safe for a while, but for how long? The American military was still evacuating refugees from the Nairobi airport, but the flights would soon be coming to an end. They had to leave before that happened.
Time dragged on empty, slowly, with the anxiety of war and the dread of being trapped in the city real.
On the fifth day, Shelly sat outside, in the back of the embassy, on a bench in the shade from the hot sun, reading to the children. She was waiting on a final document for Faith. The minute it was ready, they would leave for the airport. It would only take a few minutes to gather up their things. They would be ready when the time came.
She was reading Robinson Crusoe to them, and the loneliness and isolation of the story rung true in her heart as she spoke the words out loud. Shelly looked up to see Mrs. Bruna walking toward her, with a guarded look on her face. Next to her was the Marine, Sergeant Jefferson, whom she had met at the gate on her first day.
Something’s wrong, but what? she wondered with apprehension.
“Hello Mrs. Bruna… Sergeant,” she said warily, as she stood up.
“Hello, Mrs. Ferguson,” the woman replied as she stood in front of her. Then Mrs. Bruna briefly placed her hands on Shelly’s shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said, “I need you to be calm. Two men have shown up at the barricade. They both could be imposters. Many are trying to get out of this country anyway they can by taking ID’s off the dead they find.”
“One man is about thirty years old, tall and of African descent. He has identified himself as Jonathan Undomo. The other may be Caucasian, Hispanic, or just about any other nationality that isn’t dark skinned. They are both dirty, unshaven with rumpled hair, and basically in rags. We tried to identify the one claiming to be your husband, but his appearance is too altered to identify him by his passport photo. That is why we need you to look at him for us,” she stated.
Shelly’s heart started to beat an irregular rhythm. She steeled herself for what may be ahead, but she wouldn’t smash the hope that he was alive.
“Sergeant Jefferson will take you to see him. I’ll stay with the children. But, I need to warn you to be cautious, don’t get too close,” she warned. “And, please try not to get your hopes up,” she asked softly of Shelly.
Shelly nodded agreement, in spite of her feelings.
She turned and joined the sergeant, walking beside him toward the embassy gates, her heart continuing to pound with hope and dread. They walked through the gates and into the alleyway of walls, stopping near a truck.
“Stay hidden here. I’m going to bring them over to the guard shack and question them. I’ll try and get them to face in this direction. Please don’t reveal yourself unless you’re sure, Mrs. Ferguson. We could be dealing with terrorists,” he said gravely.
Shelly watched him walk away and then direct the men to join him with a wave of his hand. She was shocked by their appearance. They were thin, dirty with scruffy beards and hair, frankly a mess. One was very tall, with fierce intelligent eyes. So much like the Maasai she had been with. The other man was stooped and wild-looking. It couldn’t be her husband. Her heart began to sink. The sergeant turned his back to her and the two men turned to face in her direction. She shrank further behind the military machine, and peeked out. She could hear the sergeant ask the man that claimed to be her husband, “Why did you come to Africa?”
“I came here with my wife to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary,” said a husky voice that wasn’t her husband’s voice at all.
Shelly’s heart sank and tears started to fill her eyes. Had these men tortured Jim to reveal this information before he was killed? But, how could they? He was allegedly killed the first day? She saw him on the truck herself. There wasn’t any time, was there?
“This is Jonathan Undomo. He rescued me in Mombasa. He is the eldest brother of a friend of ours,” offered the shabby man with the gravelly voice.
Undomo… I know that name, she thought. Then she remembered… Mattie’s last name was Undomo! Her brother works at that restaurant, the one on the hill… wasn’t his name Jonathan?
“Has a Mrs. Shelly Ferguson reported in here?” asked the ragged man with the raspy voice. The look in his eyes! He has Jim’s eyes… her heart skipped a beat.
“I’m sorry, but…” the Marine wasn’t able to finish his reply. Shelly had run up behind him and stopped in uncertainty.
The man looked behind the sergeant and exclaimed “Shelly! Thank God!”
Their embrace was heartfelt but short-lived. Shelly was shocked as Jim’s body went limp in her arms. Sergeant Jefferson quickly stepped in to catch her collapsing husband before he hit the ground.
Going Home