With a sudden effort, he tore himself away and fell against the cement floor. The eye burst and the juice squelched against the door. Freddie sat up in his bed, trembling and wet. The clothes felt damp and gummed to his body. He realized he had been asleep all the time and this was one of his nightmares. He reached under the pillow and produced his torchlight. He shone it on the clock. The time was 2 a.m. Since Jagua left, this new habit of going to bed early had not ensured trouble-free sleep. Could it really be – as Nancy had suggested – that Jagua was resorting to black magic to torture him? Was she a witch with black powers over his soul? Only that morning he had been telling the pupils at the College that there was no such thing as black magic or witchery, only the imagination. Scientific facts, he held, could be demonstrated; but these extrasensory qualities depended too much on vague circumstances and conditions.
He listened to the night sounds. At this time a mysterious hushed stillness lay over Lagos. Only in the distance could he hear the faint note of a saxophone, a melody in the wilderness. The Tropicana must be busy now: 2 a.m. – their brightest hour. Would Jagua be there, he wondered? He sighed and lay back in his bed but could not sleep because of the ache in his head, lashing out at his temples. He pressed his fingertips to his brow.
‘Freddie …’ came the low voice. ‘Anyone in de room wit’ you?’ He looked about him in the darkness. ‘Answer me, my loving Freddie! … Anyone in de room wit’ you?’ Could it be Jagua, calling out to him from the other side of Devil’s Island, bewitching him with all her magic? This woman had become a bug in his veins. He felt the terror running through his bones. He remained still, he wished he could shrivel up and shrink and disappear into nothingness.
‘Freddie … Anyone in de—’
He became instantly awake and suspicious. He must still be dreaming. He tried his voice. ‘No one in de—’ but only a croak issued from his lips.
‘I beg you; I want to come inside, Freddie. Is Jagua here – your woman.’
He thought it over. ‘You come to fight me or to make frien’ with me, or to kill me?’ He was sure now. His voice was coming back. This was his Jagua. Violent and crazy one moment; calm and repentant the next.
‘Open firs’, Freddie! I beg you open firs’. I standin’ at de door an’ is late.’
She may have come to kill me this time, Freddie thought. But what was the sense in being afraid? He found a stool in the dark and placed it against the door. He climbed up and peered down on Jagua. She was alone, standing against the door in a white cocktail dress. A dark mantle was thrown over her shoulders. He felt a sudden twinge of pity for her.
As soon as he let her in, she began to cry. He could never stand her tears and he sat on his bed, lonely and confused. He let her weep for some time, gazing at the rising and falling bosom inside the low-cut blouse, at the eyes, heavy and puffed and red; at the hair, glamorous and, no doubt, specially done up to please him. He saw then that in some way Jagua lived for him. She was bright and full of verve when they loved, but when they quarrelled the light went out.
‘You forgive me, Freddie? I sorry for everythin’.’
He yawned. ‘But Jagua, you surprise me as you act. You take axe, you wan’ chop off my head – like craze woman. Suppose de polis catch you again? Anodder big case.’
‘Is love, Freddie.’ She dabbed a handkerchief against her eyes. ‘I tink about all dis and it pain me.’
Freddie remembered all the trouble he had been taking at the passport office and he became angry. ‘Me who hear about you behavin’ in de Tropicana and in de street I never chop you head off with axe.’ In spite of all his need of her, Freddie found himself getting more and more angry now that she was before him.
‘You hear story? What kin’ story? Tell me – quick!’
‘Ah hear dat you use to walka on de road for night time. Den white man will pick you up and you follow him an’ sleep. Is not de firs’ time ah hear de story, but ah never try chop you head off wit’ axe.’
‘Freddie, you come again! Make we forget dat one. We awready go into dat matter an’ I tell you is a lie. De Lagos people keep on poke nose. So you no wan’ to see me back?’ She rose. ‘I goin’ back, den.’
Freddie held her hand. ‘Wait, Jagua.’
‘No. Ah see dat you still vex wit’ me, Freddie.’
‘Not so, Jagua. Awright, jus’ leave de matter, siddown.’
She sat on the bed, and he sat beside her. His anger was still there and that meant that pride had seized his hands and rendered them heavier than an elephant. He sat awkwardly not looking at her, unable to touch her.
‘What you waitin’ for, Freddie? You just a proud boy who got spoil by woman.’
She put out the light and folded him in her arms kissing him. ‘Freddie, when I get de chance I will visit your hometown. You never one day take me to Bagana, because your fear say Jagwa too old. Your Papa won’t ’gree for you to marry me. I want to go and know dat Bagana and see your modder and fadder. You will take me before you go Englan’?’
‘If I still goin’,’ Freddie said. He remembered Nancy telling him that she too would be visiting Bagana. No doubt his parents would be astonished to receive two successive visits from two strikingly beautiful women, one just over nineteen and the other nearly forty-five.
She began to unbutton her dress. ‘So you will take me to Bagana?’ She could be good, sweet, loving, delicious and satisfying, this mad woman. In spite of himself the tightness of his anger began to slacken. He felt an agreeable warmth creeping up his spine. She put her clothes over the arm of a chair and came and knelt beside him, looking up into his face, seeking a smile in the half-light. She smelt sweet.
‘Since I lef’ dis place, I never sleep one night.’
‘Yes. Because you always go to Tropicana.’
‘Not so, Freddie! Because I thinkin’ about you. I keep dreamin’ day an’ night.’ The expert fingers were feeling him intimately. The low vibrant voice struck chords in his very fibres. He felt her fingers on his cheeks and the warm flesh on his face. He was engulfed. He was sinking into the soft abyss of this erotic woman. He hated himself but her breast was pushing against his face and he reached out and seized the nipple with his lips.
In the morning the tenants saw Jagua emerge from Freddie’s room af
ter her long absence. They saw her go up to her room which had remained locked up all the time. No one showed any surprise or asked any questions. There was a law about Jagua and Freddie which was too big for them to understand, and this was it – operating before their eyes.