THE CONTACT

'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 the settee and dropped into it. Mr. Potter's snores came out low and peaceful and I hoped the drugs will be in his system to calm him when he wakes up. I could hear Tolu's steps moving upstairs—probably peeing in his trouser, who knows? He had kept to himself since we forced ourselves into the house.

I picked up an old Time Magazine and read about Obama's visit to Africa. Talatu's call came before I got to her of the article. I threw the magazine and sat upright.

'Hello,' I said, my heart beating fast. 'Tala, how are you?'

There was a moment's silence.

'Tala, are you there?' I asked.

'Yes,' she said. Her voice was faint, far away.

'What's wrong?'

The silence returned. 

'Tala, are you okay?'

'He slapped me,' she said.

'Who slapped you?' I asked, knowing exactly who she was taking about.

She sniffed. 'I don't want you to preach to me. I am just telling you because… because I need someone to talk to.'

I remained silent, but my heart ran at the pace of a stop clock. 'What happened?'

She sniffed again. 'We argued…it was my fault actually…and he…'

I pressed the phone so hard to my ear that I felt pain. 'I told you—'

'Paul,' Talatu said and sniffed. 'I knew it was a mistake to call you—'

'It's not. I am only trying to point—'

'I am sorry I called you.'

'Wait—'

I heard the click sound and knew she had dropped the call. I dialed her number; it rang and rang through. I redialed, pacing the spacious living room, my heart wrapped in an unbearable pain. She did not answer. I dialed her number until I heard the knock on the door—but she did not pick my calls nor replied the text messages I sent. 

I opened the door and Eric walked in.

'Are you okay?' he asked.

'Yeah.'

'What happened?'

'Nothing happened,' I said and forced a smile. 'Did you return the car?'

'No,' he said and sat down. Sweat glistened on his forehead. 'Where is Tolu?'

'Still upstairs,' I said, returning to my chair. 'What did you do with the car?' 

'Nothing much,' he said and smiled. 

'Did you get money to pay them the extra?'

'Maria didn't have it,' he said and I heard the tinge of sarcasm in his voice. 'At least that's what she said.'

'What did you do?'

He shrugged. 'I left the car at the roundabout close to the rental office and called them to pick it from there. Told them I had an emergency. I left the keys in the car and watched from a safe distance. Eventually one of the men we met in the office came and drove the car away. They have been calling but I have not returned their calls. They sent a text eventually threatening to go to the police if we don't make the payment.'

I sighed. 'The situation is getting worse.'

Eric snapped up from the settee and walked toward the black TV lining the wall. 'I need to get in touch with Mr. Potter's family. We will dump him near the British embassy as soon as we get the ransom.'

'What if Mr. Potter refused to co-operate?'

Eric turned and looked at me. 'Refuse? What do you mean by—'

My phone rang then. I picked it from the chair and looked at the screen, my thoughts on Talatu. I sighed with disappointment and turned to Eric.

'It's Dracula,' I said and stretched the phone to him.

He took the phone from me and raised it to his ear. 'Yeah?' 

He listened for a couple of seconds. 

'Don't threaten me,' he barked into the phone. 'Don't threaten me because I am not afraid of your empty threats.' He listened for about five seconds. 'You can't do jack. Did you hear me? You can't do jack. Don't stop at calling the police; walk to Hell for all I care. You can't threaten me because I am not afraid of you. We had a—' 

He listened.

'—and we have not collected a penny yet—'

He listened some more.

'I am not afraid of you, Dracula,' he said. 'Go to Hell.' He took the phone away from his ear and switched it off. 'Goddamn armed robber.'

'What does he want?' I asked, collecting the phone from his hand. 

Eric hissed. 'He wants his part of the ransom now or he...is...he is going...going...going to the police. Stammering dwarf! He thinks we have collected the ransom and are trying to swindle him. If it was easy why didn't they get it when they had him?'

My heart was beating fast. If Dracula makes real his threat, another set of police would be on our trail.

'I don't think Dracula is joking,' I said. 'Explain to them we haven't gotten the money. It could hold him back from going to the police.'

'Let them die for all I care,' Eric retorted. 'I am not dancing to anybody's tune. He cannot command me around as if I am one of his boys.' 

'Eric,' I said. 'If the police get our details from Dracula we are done for. They will find us and nail us to a prison and that would be our end. Let's manage him and his gangs while we can—before it's too late.'

Eric sniggered. 'They won't go to the police. If they do, we will implicate them and they know that. We have their number, don't we? If they talk, we will all go down together.'

'That's the problem,' I said, as if I was speaking to a child. 'I don't want to go down to a prison; not alone, and not in a group. Call and assure them we haven't gotten the money and that we will give them their share once we get it.'

Tolu walked into the sitting room with a plate in one and cutleries in the other. 

'What's going on?' he asked.

'Dracula called,' I said. 'He wants his portion of the money now or he will go to the police.'

Tolu's eyes grew wider. 'Go to the police?'

'It's a useless threat,' Eric said, walking toward Mr. Potter. 'It's just to instill fear in us to keep us in line so we don't betray them. That's all it is.'

Tolu stood with the plate in his hand, his eyes moving from Eric to me.

'What if it's not a bluff, Eric?' he asked. 'What if he tells the police?'

'He won't,' Eric said, his voice as assuring as the voice of a diplomat. 'If he does, we will all go down. They know that.' He stood over Mr. Potter. 'This guy has to wake up so we can get the necessary contacts.'

'The drug knocked him out,' I said. 'Give him sometime; he will be useless to us if you wake him now.' 

Eric tapped Mr. Potter on the cheek. 'Mr. Potter, get up.'

Mr. Potter grunted. His eyelids dragged themselves apart and his eyeballs stared up at Eric's face for a moment before the eyelids closed them up again. 

Eric tapped him again. 'Get up, Mr. Potter.'

'Yes?' Mr. Potter asked in a sleepy voice. 'What do you want?'

'Get up,' Eric said. 'Give me your wife's number; I want to talk to her.'

Mr. Potter's eyes slowly snapped shut.

Eric smacked his cheek. 'Wake up.'

'The drug is at its peak by now,' I said. 'Don't expect him to be coherent as soon he wakes up.'

Mr. Potter stared at Eric, understanding far away from his eyes. His eyelids began to come together again. 

Eric smacked his cheek again. 'Get up, Mr. Potter.'

Mr. Potter's eyes snapped opened. 

'What do you want?' he asked, in a croaky voice. 

'I need your wife's email,' Eric said. 'And I need it now.'

'What for?' 

'For the ransom,' Eric said. 'And then we will let you go.'

'For the ransom,' Mr. Potter said simply, and yawned.

'Once we get the ransom, we will let you go,' Eric said.

'You will let me go,' Mr. Potter said.

Eric stared at him. 'Do you understand what I am saying?'

Mr. Potter yawned again and got up. 'I need water. I need…'

Eric turned to Tolu. 'Tolu, please get us some water.'

Tolu dropped the plate and the cutleries on the centre table and walked back to the kitchen. He returned shortly with a bottle of water. Mr. Potter collected the water and took it to his mouth.'

'You have to open it first,' Eric said and collected the bottle from his hand. He uncapped the bottle and gave it back.

We watched Mr. Potter gulped all the water down and dropped the empty bottle beside him. 

'Are you okay now?' Eric asked. 

'I need to go to the gents,' Mr. Potter said. 

Eric looked at Tolu. 

Tolu pointed to one of the doors beside the sitting room's entrance door. 'Go in there.' 

Mr. Potter stood and walked toward the toilet, one shaky step at a time, the corduroy he wore rumpled and dirty. We heard the sound of what he was doing through the opened door, and he returned and sat with the droopy eyelids.

'So, you want my wife's email, do you?' he asked.

'Yes,' Eric said. 

Mr. Potter smiled. 'I thought you guys are smart, but maybe I misjudged you. You could end up in jail for kidnapping.'

'I am not part of it,' Tolu said. 'Count me out.'

'Shut up,' Eric shouted, turning to Tolu. 'Let me do the talking.'

Tolu's face screwed up instantly. 'Don't talk to me like—'

'I will talk to you anyhow I want,' Eric said. 'Keep out of my discussion.' 

They stared at each other. 

Mr. Potter coughed. 'Maybe I should come from another angle,' he said. 'Why don't the three of you come together and start a business—'

'Don't give us any advice,' Eric said, turning to him. 'You are in no position to give advice. You don't have the moral right to do that.'

'Why?' Mr. Potter said amidst another yawn. His eyes shone with alertness.

'Why?' Eric asked, his voice rising. 'You don't know? I think you know, Mr. Potter. Who underdeveloped our country? Who came into our continent uninvited, ravaged it, and went back leaving us poorer and dependent on you? You caused my country to be underdeveloped; so, you don't have the moral right to advise me or any African for that matter.'

'Oh,' Mr. Potter said. 'I get your meaning.'

'I am sure you do. You deceived us with religion and education and stole our resources. Go to Jos and see how your ancestors ravaged the land, seeking for tin. There is no land as beautiful as Jos and no weather can compare with it, but you dug tin out and forgot to refill the ponds, turning them into death-traps. Look to Ogoni land. See what you have done to the land. The devil is kind to mankind compared to what you and your ancestors did to Africa.' 

Mr. Potter nodded.

'So, if we kidnapped you and ask for a little ransom from your family it's not asking for too much. We are just taking back what you and your ancestors stole from us.'

Mr. Potter laughed. 'Mr. Eric, are you saying we made your country worse than it was before we colonized you?' He raised a finger and shook it. 'Your ancestors ran around with leaves on their groins until we brought civilization to them and now you say we underdeveloped your country?' He chuckled. 'How did we do that? Is it our fault that your leaders don't have the capacity to improve the economy and to provide jobs for you? Is that our fault?'

'You steal our jobs—' Eric said.

'So, steal ours!' Mr. Potter shouted. 'What are you waiting for?'

'How can we do that when the international trade policies are in your favor?' Eric shouted. 'You manipulate and ensure you gain the most in every exchange and you use nuclear powers and military might to threaten any country that dares to stand against your subjugation.'

Mr. Potter chuckled again. 'Every country seeks for its own military and economic gain in case you are living on planet Mars! Every human is born with a bias for his or her survival; that's life, live with it.' He smiled. 'And forget the idea of another country coming to develop your country for you. Nobody else will do it for you, old chap; not England and certainly not China.' He smiled again. 'You have to get off your butt and do it and you can't do it by kidnapping the foreigners who come to invest and provide jobs in your country. Your youths and best brains migrating to Europe won't do it either. So don't blame us for your woes.'

'You put us in a dark world,' Eric protested. 'You and all the other pink-nosed European countries. Africa was never in darkness in spite of your calling it the Dark Continent. '

'Oh, come off it,' Mr. Potter said. 'Make your politicians work and stop them from buying exotic cars and exotic homes in Europe and America while most of your citizens live in penury. You make free money from oil for God's sake; why are your leaders not able to convert the oil money to jobs?' He looked at Eric, the smile gone. 'But maybe it's a capacity problem—maybe people in Africa don't have the capacity to develop themselves. You may have electricity today, but your minds are still as dark as when we found you centuries ago.' He smiled ruefully. 'The Asian Tigers woke up from their darkness, what's your country waiting for?'

'You underdeveloped us,' Eric cried. 'You—'

'Oh, spare me that bullshit,' Mr. Potter said. 'I may be crazy but I know we showed you the way out of darkness. But you prefer ignorance, mediocrity and bigotry—is that our fault?' He raised his hands and dropped them on his knees. 'Don't blame us for the inactivity of your brain; we can't show you the way and think for you, can we?' He looked between Eric and me. 'And I know kidnapping is a dump way to get out of the labor market or out of poverty because you would either end up in a prison or in a grave. Use your brain to think and see that!'

A truck blasted its horn angrily and the sound came into the house as if the truck had passed through it. The air in the room had gotten staled and warmer. 

'But if you insist,' Mr. Potter said, breaking the silence. 'My wife's email is joan666kkk@gmail.com. That's Joan, triple six, triple k, at Gmail dot com. I know what you are thinking—666 is the devil's number, right? Well, my wife isn't the devil, but I think they share the same mother.' He laughed for a couple of seconds and then tilted his head to look at Eric. 'If you are smart, you will hand me over to the police and go back to your normal lives. I am saying this because you are young men and I like you guys.' 

He smiled again. 'But if you insist, ensure you write "kidnapped your husband" boldly as your subject matter. She is bound to react immediately. She is as practical as the weather.' 

He laid on the settee, a little smile creasing the side of his lips. I had the feeling he was teasing us, laughing at us, like a hunter playing with a caught and helpless game.