THE FIGHT

'How are you, Old Chap?' Mr. Potter said when he came out of the toilet.

Eric glared at him. 'Don't call me that; I am not one of your slaves.' 

Mr. Potter laughed heartily and sat on the settee. He wore the same clothes, but his pink skin was as clean as any pink skin could be after a bath. His hair had fallen back to his skull, lying like tiny strings of spaghetti falling over the sides of a pot. His eyes still looked sleepy despite the many hours of sleep he had had. 

Eric stood in front of him with Tolu's phone in his hand. 'Sit still; I want to take a picture of you.'

'So, you have a reply?' Mr. Potter said. 'What did she say? Did she agree to pay the ransom?'

Eric clicked the phone a couple of times.

'Two more shots and we will be done,' he said and pressed the phone.

The flash brightened the room. He did it again, straightened up and lifted the phone to his face, looking through the pictures. 'This will do,' he said. 'She should recognize you even with your hair sleeping on your skull.'

'She should,' Mr. Potter said. 'Can I lay back?'

Eric gave him no answer and Mr. Potter did not wait for it. He laid on the settee, stretched his long limbs to cover the rest of the seat.

I bent over him. 'How are you feeling?'

'The drugs are working,' he said. 'They leave me drowsy and sickly though. The doctors said I will take them for the rest of my life or until I get better.' 

'I hope you get well,' I said. 

Mr. Potter nodded. 'You don't get well from this; it only gets worse.' He looked into my eyes. 'I am grateful though—that I am not on the street running naked.'

Eric coughed.

'I am off to the café to send his pictures to his wife,' he said. 'Paul, don't get ideas. It's either I get my money, or we all go to prison. It's as simple as that.' 

He turned to Tolu.

'Don't encourage him to do anything stupid,' he added. 'Or your uncle will hear all about it in London before he returns.' 

'Let them be,' Mr. Potter said, sitting up on his elbow. 'You can't force them to do what they don't want to do, can you?'

Eric turned to him. 'Keep out of this if you want to remain alive. Do you understand? Keep out of it!'

He turned and walked back to the door. 'Don't try anything funny or you will spend a long time in jail.'

'Can I have my phone back?' Tolu said standing up. 'Don't go with my phone; I want it back.'

'I will give it back when I return,' Eric barked, opening the door. 'Except you want me to send the pictures with your phone and then it can be traced back to you.'

'Give it back,' Tolu said, walking toward the door. 'I don't want you to use it for anything. Just give it back.'

Eric closed the door and walked back toward Tolu. 'I just want to download the pictures and then you can have it back.'

'No,' Tolu said, 'I don't want you to use my—'

 Eric's right fist flew through the air in a blur and connected with Tolu's stomach with a loud thud. Tolu never saw it coming and he staggered backward, as if shot by a gun, and doubled over. A loud grunt escaped from him, and he clutched at his stomach before his knees smacked the floor. Eric stood over him like a boxer watching over a knocked-out opponent. 

'You'll get your phone when I am done,' he said and walked back to the door. 

'Your friend has gone mad,' Mr. Potter said. 'I dare say he is crazier than I am.'

I walked to Tolu. He groaned and clutched his stomach, twisting around. I held his arm and pulled him up. 'Are you okay?'

Tolu grunted, lifting himself upward. 

'I swear I will kill that bastard,' he said and grimaced. 'I will kill him.'

'Be careful,' Mr. Potter said. 'If you try to stop him, he will kill you. Both of you.'

'Can you stand?' I asked.

'Yeah,' Tolu muttered. His right hand still held his midsection. 'I brought him into this deal; he has no right to treat me this way. I swear I will kill him; just wait and see.'

'He's crazy,' I said. 'We have got to figure out how to outsmart him before the police catch up with us.'

Tolu stood still for a moment, still holding his stomach. He pushed my hand away and walked toward the staircase leading to his room. 

'Tolu,' I said. 

He did not turn back. He climbed the stairs, one step at a time, and held the handrail as if he was afraid, he would fall. 

'Let him go,' Mr. Potter whispered. 'His pride has been hurt; give him some time to heal.'

We listened to Tolu's feet on the stairs until his bedroom's door opened and closed. The house turned quiet all of a sudden except for the occasional blares of trucks and cars' horns coming from the street.

I turned to Mr. Potter. 'I have to take you out of here. I don't care what the consequences are, you have to leave this place because Eric will kill you if he doesn't get the ransom.' I sat in the chair opposite him. 'I will take you to the British Embassy and you will be free. I don't care what happens to me after that.'

Mr. Potter shook his head. 'Don't worry about me. I am not afraid of him, and death would be a relief to me, actually. I came to Nigeria with the understanding that I won't be going back to England alive.' He smiled, looking at me closely. 'You get out of here. Go back to your town tonight and forget about all this because I don't think it will end well.'

'I can't leave,' I said. 'This is Tolu's house. If Tolu is caught, I am caught; it doesn't matter if I am back in Jos. Besides, I don't want to leave the two of you in his hands. Tolu can't stand against him in spite of his threats to kill him.' I paused and stared back at Mr. Potter. 'You really don't want to go back to England?'

'No,' he said without hesitation. 'There is nothing to go back to. My wife is in love with another man, and I am sick. I don't want to be the person everyone comes to see in a psychiatric hospital, drooling saliva like a rabid dog. I will rather die here where no one knows me, and no one will pity me.'

His voice betrayed no self-pity, and I saw that he had made up his mind about staying, even though he wasn't in the right mind. I felt pity for him and the need to help him overwhelmed me. I resolved at that moment to help him even if I would die in the process. That meant going against Eric head on.

That meant going against death itself.