As if by magic, all
noise ceased from within. He knew it would. After a few seconds he heard the
sound of hurrying feet and the falling of some bottles. In his mind’s eye, he
was taking stock of everything that was happening in the room. There were bars
in the window so the only asylum was under the bed for whatever lover his wife
was entertaining, to hide from him. However, there were some bottles of Akpeteshie scattered under the bed.
These were the objects that announced the desperate refugee. Then he heard the
striking of a match.
He knocked again at the door. This time, it opened
instantly. He assumed a calm air and countenance.
“Why did you take so long a time to open?” he
asked. Husband and wife relapse into silence, each probing the other’s mind to
see how much they knew.
“But
why were you so late?” she asked dejectedly.
“Does
it matter?” That question was so searching that she did not reply. They went in
and sat down for a long awkward moment.
“Can
you prepare me some koko?” he asked.
“O-oh,
why do you task me so much? This night when everyone is asleep?”
“If
you won’t do it, you just tell me.”
She got up with some reluctance and shuffled towards the
kitchen. He heard her waking up her daughter to accompany her to the kitchen
which was quite detached from the main house.
“Call me Kwaku too,” he shouted at her. When Kwaku came, he
took him outside and said, “Go to Kofi Atubra’s house and ask his wife, Serwa
to come over immediately to see me.”
It was a particularly bright moonlit night. Everything was
as clear as crystal. The outlines of the mountains rose and defined themselves
clearly on the horizon. If one walked about one was followed by one’s shadow,
dark and lengthy. It was such a night as might deceive the most intelligent
cock. As Kewku sped off on the errand, Mansa’s red cockerel crew. It was a
shrill crow that rang high into the night. When it ended, the former stillness
of the night returned, re-emphasised by the contrast of the shrill disturbance
of the cock.
Ama Serwa soon came to the house with all the surprise and
concern she could muster. After the formal exchange of greetings, Kuma-Duo
announced his intention of lying with her without any explanation or tact, to
the hearing of her trapped husband under the bed who could not dare to draw his
breath. She was too stupefied to say a word; she only stood glued to the spot
while he shut the door and turned town the lamp. Although at first she would
not consent to it, she was soon cowed and subdued by his strong hands.
Now, Kofi Atubra under the bed knew exactly what was going
on. When his wife entered the room at first, he was at a loss as to the
intentions of Kuma-Duo. However, when Kuma-Duo proclaimed his intentions,
became vicious and turned down the light, it dawned on him that the impossible
was about to happen. He did not know what to do. First he was not supposed to
be where he was. He could not hope to beat Kuma-Duo physically. Also it was
most likely that Kuma-Duo might be armed with a knife or something in
case…Also, he was too proud to issue from under the bed like a beaten dog. So
he settled in his lying position to see the development of things.
When he heard Kuma-Duo
trying to force his wife he felt that he could hold out no longer. He
turned to get up. Just as he did so, another bottle fell. He shook like a reed,
trying to keep still. At any moment he expected probing hands to pull him out,
but none came. Apparently Kuma-Duo was too busy to search for any “disturbing
mice,” he reflected. He decided to do nothing which might result in his
discovery.
It is always said that whenever murderers are sentenced to
death and are waiting to be hanged, they are given the most appetising food
that they might wish to eat. Opinions have also varied from person to person as
to how they would react in such a situation. Some say they would be too sad to
touch even a morsel; others say they would eat normally to their fill. However,
the gluttons always re-assert their desire to eat until they burst. Kuma-Duo
knew that that was the first and last time with the woman he held. He therefore
swore to “eat everything and lick the platter until it shone as if it was newly
bought from the market.” His brains grew numb; he was aware of nothing except
the sensation of soaring spirits and swelling jubilation.
Then suddenly he jerked awake, wide awake. Someone was
knocking at the door.
“Goddam whoever it is,” he muttered to himself. But he got
up mechanically and whispering, “My wife has come,” shoved Serwa under the bed.
He heard some bottles falling—the signal of the arrival of the second refugee.
Same for husband, same for wife. He quickly collected her clothes and pushed
them to her. Then he took the lamp and raised the wick.
The knock was repeated. He reached for the knob and opened
it. “Why did you shut the door?” his wife asked. “I was feeling very cold.” He
replied calmly. But she stood there with a frown on her face.
“Put down the pap and stop looking about so foolishly,” he
roared. When he had finished taking the pap and she had cleared the table, he
cleared his throat and said:
“I have something important to for you, but first lift that
mattress off the bed.”
Shame and disgrace unprecedented presented itself before
them. The couple issued from their short-term prison, the woman desperately
holding her clothes in order to recover herself.
A stony silence reigned for a minute or two. Then Kuma-Duo
said, “This is the result of your folly, Afua Mansa, I shall deal with you
tomorrow.” Turning to the man, he said, “I have no quarrel with you; you have
used my wife and I have used yours too. However, know that this of kind things
brings death.”
Soon after, the couple went out like beaten dogs; Kuma-Duo
laid his hand on the knob and pulled the door shut. The cockerel crew again.
FRANK
MENSAH
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