When I turned eight, I joined the Brownies, which is the younger version of the Girls Guides. Our new leader asked what totem name we would give her. Looking  through a book of aboriginal words, we chose Mimba, which means a flock of pigeons and the naughty Brownies were possibly suggesting a link to what typically drops from pigeons from time to time.

Anyway Mimba took us on a bus trip. I found a seat next an old lady and chatted away, then to my horror, noticed the other Brownies were no longer on the bus. I hopped off at the next stop but couldn’t see them anywhere. There was nothing else for it: I would have to find a Police officer and confess my lack of attention. I was relieved to find a policemen in a café. His motorcycle was parked out front. I’m sure he was delighted when, just as he was about to chomp into a large steaming burger, I approached him  and, all courage failing, burst into tears. Oh great, a lost Brownie. It must’ve made his lunch.

The saving grace for the policemen’s lunch was that he could not put me on the back of his bike so he called a police car. The only available car in range was a plain clothes detective’s car. They were also delighted to be dealing with a lost child. After all, they already had problems of their own. “Wanna puppy, kid?” One of the detectives looked at me hopefully. On the back seat was a box of puppies to be given away. I already had a dog and so couldn’t help.

By the time the police car drove into the reserve and up to the Guide Hut, Mimba was just returning with the others. She had no idea I was missing. The police asked her a few pointed questions about her competency. Poor Mimba. Good thing it was time to go home.