FIGHTING

'Hey,' Eric cried. 'Stay where you—'

They hit the floor with a loud smack. Eric cried out again, more out of surprise than fear, and the flashlight sprawled away from his hand. It rolled and faced the opposite wall. 

'Get up from me,' Eric cried. 'Get up or I will shoot you.'

Mr. Potter's hands reached Eric's neck and he pressed them downward. Eric punched upward and his legs shoot in different directions, aiming and missing Mr. Potter's middle. 

'Get off me,' Eric cried. 'Paul—'

I woke up. I grabbed Mr. Potter's chest and shoulders and yanked him backward. He shifted a little and drew me downward; his hands found Eric's neck again and they clamped on it like a neck brace. 

'He is chocking me,' Eric muttered. 'Get him off.'

I wrapped my hands around Mr. Potter's chest again and jerked him. He pulled Eric with him, with his hands still on the neck. Eric grunted and his eyes grew wider, and they rolled about like white balls rolling about in a black bowl.

I pulled again, and I felt Maria by my side. She pulled at Mr. Potter's shirt. 

Mr. Potter's hand remained on Eric, squeezing, twisting. Eric's eyes closed and opened like a bulb from a dying generator. I released Mr. Potter's chest and circled my right arm around his neck. I squeezed and pulled backward; he grunted, and I saw his grip relaxed on Eric's neck. I squeezed harder and jerked him backward. His hands dropped from Eric's neck and Eric fell backward, his mouth opened, drawing in and pushing out gust of breaths.

Mr. Potter's hands held my arm, pulling it away. I squeezed harder. He relaxed and I heard his breath rising and falling like the breath of a horse after a race. 

'Keep still,' I panted. 'Or I will strangle you.'

I felt his body relax some more and I relaxed my grip on his neck. I lowered him gently toward the ground, planning to jump away from him once his back reached the floor. Then I saw Eric's leg shot out and connected with Mr. Potter's stomach and my arm. We sprawled to the floor with Mr. Potter lying on top of me. 

I released my hand around Mr. Potter and pushed him to my left; he shifted and rolled back on me. I shoved harder, and this time he fell away on the floor beside me. He sprang up on his feet like a cat under attack and turned toward Eric. I struggled up and moved away from him and bumped into Maria standing by the door. 

Eric picked the flashlight from the floor and pointed it on Mr. Potter's face. Mr. Potter had a gun in his hand, and it pointed to Eric's chest.

Where did he get a gun from? I thought. 

'Stop or I will shoot,' he shouted. 'I will shoot you.'

'Mr. Potter...' I said.

'Don't come close,' he shouted. 'I will kill all of you.'

'You can't kill us,' Eric said.

'I'm warning you,' Mr. Potter cried and stretched his left hand to block the rays. 'Don't come close; you would be dead.' 

He took step forward and raised the gun to his head. 

'What is he doing?' Maria asked from the door.

Mr. Potter smiled.

'He is going to kill himself,' Maria said. 

Mr. Potter squeezed the trigger. He did it again and again and then brought the gun down from his forehead. He looked at it as if it had turned into an eel. He placed the nozzle back on his forehead and squeezed again.

'Are you insane?' Maria shouted.

Mr. Potter looked at Eric. 'This is a bloody toy gun.'

 He smacked the gun on the floor, and it bounced from the floor and fell close to Maria's feet. 

He looked into the glare of the light.

'Why did you give me a toy gun?' he asked. 'Why did you give me a toy gun?'

He began to cry.

'I didn't give it to you,' Eric said. 'You forced it out of my hand.'

Mr. Potter raised his face to the ceiling and tears crawled down his cheeks. 'Why did you give me a toy gun? You deceived me.' 

He bent his head and fell on his knees.

'Why do you want to kill yourself?' Maria asked after a while. 'You are from the UK for crying out loud; why would you want to kill yourself?'

Mr. Potter's shoulders rose and fell. He cried like a man who had found forgiveness. Then, as suddenly as he started crying, he jumped up and stood in front of us. He cleaned his eyes, gave a big sigh and stared into the light.

 'Why do you want to kill yourself?' Eric asked.

Mr. Potter smiled. 'Because I am bloody mad, can't you see?'

'Why did you come to Nigeria if you know you are sick?' Maria asked. 

He cleaned his face again. 'I came to have my final rest and that's gospel truth.' 

He turned and looked at me, then at Maria. 'Why die a psycho in England when I can die in Africa where no one knows me? I will rather die here than in a mental institution back in England where they will study me like a guinea pig and sympathizers will come and say pitiful words that won't help my condition.'

He shook his head. 'I got home that day after the doctors told me what was causing my erratic behavior and found your email waiting. I had received such emails before, but this day I decided to follow it up and Dominic thought I had taken the bait, and he came after me like a shark. When he talked about money, I saw the opportunity and insisted on coming to Nigeria. I went to the Nigerian Embassy and got a visa and here I am.'

'You knew it was a scam and you came anyway?' I asked. 'Why?' 

'What difference does it make?' Mr. Potter asked. 'I have always wanted to come to Africa but never got round to it.' He smiled. 'Besides, I want that woman to suffer and waste as much money as possible before finding out where I have gone to.'

'Which woman?' Maria asked. 

'My wife,' he said. 'She would be glad if they take me to a mental institution. Once I am there, she will have more time with our neighbor.'

Eric took a step toward him. 'So, you risk your life to come here because your wife is having an affair?'

Mr. Potter lowered his head and looked at his feet. 'You don't know what it means to be in my position. A position of knowing your wife is cheating on you and you cannot confront her because you will soon depend on her to take care of you since you will be a psycho.'

'Mr. Potter,' Eric said, his voice impatient. 'Give me your wife's number; let me get in touch with her.'

'Eric,' Maria protested. 'Not now, please; he is in pain.'

Eric glared at her. 'Stay out of this.' He turned to Mr. Potter. 'Mr. Potter. Your wife is a horrible person. Anyone who will cheat on his or her partner is a horrible person! What I—'

'I agree with that hundred percent,' Maria said. 'Anyone who cheats his partner is a horrible person!'

Eric kept his eyes on Maria and Mr. Potter began to laugh. It was a cold, eerie laugh, and it came to a stop as suddenly as it started as if a demon had cut it off. Eric stared at Maria for several seconds before he turned to Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter had walked back to the part of the room we found him sitting. He sat and spread his legs; then he drew the bag to sit between the legs. He packed the items on the floor and placed them back into the bag. Then he removed the items one by one and placed them back on the floor. 

'He has lapsed into the crazy state,' Maria said. 'He is not in right senses anymore.'

'I don't care about his mental state,' Eric shouted. 'I want to get in touch with his wife and get the ransom; that's all I am interested in.'

'Do you think she cares if you kill him?' I asked. 'If she is having an affair, don't you think she will be delighted if we get rid of him for her?'

Eric turned to me. 'So how do we get our money?'

'We don't get our money,' Maria said. 'We take him back to town and drop him near a police station. The man is sick. I can't be part of this.'

'Are you out of your mind?' Eric snarled, and took a step toward her, but I stood between them before he got to her. 

'Go ahead and slap me again,' Maria shouted. 'That's all you are good for. Your mates have jobs in Chevron, NNPC and CBN but your job is slapping women. Women you can't afford to marry.'

I held Eric. 'Take it easy, Eric,' I said. 'Forget it.'

Eric yanked his hand away. 'Can you hear what she is saying to me?'

'Eric, let it go,' I said, holding his arm. 'We are losing focus. Let's focus on what brought us here.'

Eric hissed. He lifted his forefinger and pointed to Maria. 'You are lucky Paul is here.'

'What would you have done?' Maria asked. 'You don't scare me.'

Eric turned to me. He shook his head. 'I will kill her one of these days, I swear I will. I told you she was a witch, didn't I? I am sure you can see it all by yourself.'

'I am not a witch,' Maria retorted. 

Eric turned to her. 'If you are not a witch—'

'Eric,' I said. 'Let's focus. Time is running out; fight when we get to the house.'

Eric pointed his hand at Maria again. 'Stay out of my business if you what to survive this night. Do you understand?' 

'Eric,' I said. 'Maria is right. We can't kidnap a mentally sick person; that's wrong. The right thing to do is to release him and let him go back to his country.'

Eric's eyes found my face. There were hard and they glared at me with contempt and amazement. 'Don't talk to me about what is wrong or right. I will be forty soon and I am still without a job, without a family; is that right to you? My productive life is wasting away, and you are talking about right and wrong?' He pointed to Mr. Potter. 'I don't care if he has Alzheimer's disease and dementia combined. I will get my money from him, that's for sure. '

'Eric,' I said. 'Let's consider—'

'Is it right to stay under your mother's care at this age? is it right for your mother to baby sit you at this age?'

'Keep my mother out of this, Eric,' I said. 'Keep my mother out of this!'

Eric took a step forward. 'Then don't talk to me about what is right and what is wrong. I will collect my money whether—'

'Who's there?'

The voice came from the hall and froze my blood.

'Who's there?'

Eric switched off the flashlight and the room fell into darkness. I heard Maria's steps coming toward me and then Mr. Potter began to laugh in the darkness.

'Who's there?' the voice asked, nearer. The voice sounded like the voice of an old man; it sounded unsure, scared. 

Mr. Potter giggled and laughed again.

The security man had found us!