'Quiet!' Eric whispered. 'Keep quiet, Mr. Potter!' Mr. Potter stopped laughing. My heart rammed at my chest so loud I was afraid the guard could hear it from where he stood. 'Eric, where are—?' Maria whispered.'Keep quiet,' Eric whispered back. 'Keep quiet.''Is anyone in here?' the voice called out again, much closer to the door now. We could hear the footsteps now—hesitant, but nearer.The door to the room creaked and closed home. I couldn't see who closed it but my guess was Eric. I tiptoed toward the door and I heard the steps outside the door drawing closer to our door. I saw the beam of light coming from under the door; he was close. Mr. Potter giggled.'Be quiet,' Eric snarled at him. 'Be quiet or I will cut your tongue out.'The steps outside came one at time now, cautious and silent, as if the person sensed our presence. He took two more steps and stopped in front of our door. I felt a grip on my arm at that moment and I jumped, startled. 'It's me,' Eric whispered. 'Be
‘He’s gone,’ I shouted. ‘The guard is gone.’Eric turned to the door, a look of alarm on his face. He pushed Maria away, yanked the flashlight from my hand and dashed out of the door. Half of the room turned dark suddenly, and Maria ran toward me. Eric’s footsteps slapped the floor in the hall in rapid succession and then the sound grew faint until it was gone completely.Darkness covered the room.‘Paul,’ Maria whispered, and I felt her hand circling my arms.‘Don’t be afraid,’ I whispered.Mr. Potter soft laugh swarmed through the darkness to meet us. Maria’s gripped on my hand grew tighter. ‘The purpose has been achieved,’ he crooned from where he sat. ‘The purpose has been achieved.’‘What are you talking about?’ I asked into the darkness. ‘What purpose?’‘To let the old man go,’ he said. ‘Why do you want to keep him? He is old and innocent.’He struggled up and walked toward us. Maria gasped and tightened her grip.‘But you wanted him to go too, didn’t you?’ he said. ‘Both of yo
I held the handle of the door and twisted downward. It creaked but stood its ground.'How do we get out?' Maria asked. 'Let's find another way,' Eric said, and he turned and walked back to the hall. We followed him. He stopped in the middle of the hall and pointed the flashlight around the hall, moving from the right side of the hall to the left. The flashlight stopped in the direction of a window close to the end of a row of windows. 'Let's try it,' Eric said and toward it. We reached the window and Eric swiped the cobwebs away from the pane and lifted the hook. He rammed his right palm on the iron frame in the middle of the window. The window creaked and moved backward. Eric pushed it and the window swung opened. Fresh air rushed in, followed by a swarm of black insects. 'Wasps!' Eric screamed. 'Move back!'We ran back many paces from the window. The wasps flew around the window, their shadows multiplying their actual sizes and numbers, and soon the last one flew out of the win
The car hiring service called Eric twice before we got to Lagos and Eric promised to return the car the next day. They threatened to speak to the police, but Eric agreed to pay the extras and begged them to do that if he doesn’t show up by eight the next morning.We got to the house and took Mr. Potter into the room without a snoopy nose catching us doing it.‘What a day!’ I muttered, sitting down. ‘Wonder what happened to the old guard.’Maria sat on the settee. ‘He probably went to the police station instead of going to call the villagers. Maybe that’s why he took so long.’Eric sat beside me and pulled off his shoes. The staled air in the room grew staler.‘Could you please take them outside?’ Maria asked, looking at the shoes. ‘The air in the room is dead as it is.’ I looked at Eric, holding my breath.‘When I am in your house,’ Eric said, his voice low and icy. ‘You can tell me what to do with my shoes. But for now, enjoy the smell or sleep outside.’‘Suit yourself,’ Maria said
I stared at Mr. Potter’s face. It stared back at me without blinking, the way still pictures stare back at one. The newscaster’s voice came on then and it said Mr. Templar Potter was last seen leaving the airport with two young men whose identity the police are still trying to ascertain. The police are requesting the general public to give it any information that may lead to finding Mr. Potter. Then the newscaster’s voice paused, and Mr. Potter’s face went off the screen.Eric pointed the remote at the TV and the newscaster’s face disappeared. ‘Man!’ he said, sitting upright on the settee. ’Now we know for sure the police are after us.’‘Erico,’ Maria said. ‘Let’s dump him somewhere this night and forget about everything. If the police find us, we are going to prison.’I tried to speak, but my mouth had gone dry. My head reeled and my palms had sweat on them. Everything was different now; like the difference between looking at a lion behind a cage and suddenly finding oneself inside
Eric climbed the Third Mainland Bridge, speeding to Ojota in the Toyota we rented. I looked at my phone: 6:05 am. Many cars lined up the other side of the road and they moved in the heavy traffic, heading to the island. We got to the end of the bridge about the time the sun stopped yawning and started the day's work. Eric had convinced Maria to stay back in the house, but she didn't need much persuasion from the unease I saw on her face. She was ready to go back to Warri and I didn't blame her since I was ready to leave Lagos too. The fact that Mr. Potter was under the police search light now had changed everything. Everything seemed real now. Only Eric seemed unmoved and galvanized to take more actions to bring our dream to reality.I turned and looked at the back seat. Mr. Potter lay like a pack of pillows, sleeping. Eric had donned cap on his head, hiding his hair and most of his face—a caution in case he suddenly seats up. He slept on, motionless, except for the rising and fallin
'I have to take the car back,' Eric said, getting up from the chair he had been sitting on for the past ten minutes. 'I don't want another police case. If the car rental people don't see me this morning, they might make a report.''Okay,' I said, looking over at Mr. Potter's lying on the settee. 'How will you pay the extra charges?'Eric shrugged. 'I will speak with Maria. That witch has money but not even the devil can convince her to lend it to me again.' He looked upward toward the staircase. 'And that one said he doesn't have money, but I know his lying. I will deal with him when we lay our hands on the ransom.''So, what will you do?' I asked again. 'I will think of something,' he said, heading for the door. 'Tell Tolu I am off.''Okay.' Eric paused. 'We will contact Mr. Potter's wife once I get back. There is no time for bullshit anymore. The earlier we get the money, the safer for us to leave this country.''Okay,' I said again and closed the door behind him. I went back to t
Mrs. Joan Potter replied Eric's email that evening. It read: Acknowledged. Take a picture of him and send to ensure you have him. How much? No police will be involved. Waiting for your reply. Mrs. J. Potter. I read the email three times before handing it over to Tolu.I turned to Eric. 'What did you write to her?'He smiled. 'That we have her husband and that she should not contact the police if she doesn't want him dead. I told her to prepare to send money via the mail. That was it. I am surprised she replied so quickly.''She is too business-like,' I said. 'There is no begging, no pleas to keep him alive. She is either glad to have him in our hands or she is a stoic.' 'She is not a good wife,' Tolu said. 'No wonder their marriage is falling apart.'Eric tapped Tolu on the back. 'That's their problem. I hope she is still good enough to pay for her husband's release; that's all that matters.' He turned around. 'Where is Mr. Potter?' 'He is in the bathroom,' I said. 'He just woke up