No Vengance

Kwasi Koranteng

Description

Colonel Barlow had cheated death many years back. He had been forced into exile by the man who had wanted him dead at the time of the uprising. He is back and must meet his adversary. He has returned with his son Kit, a battle tested soldier. Why does Sonday refuse to meet him face to face? Does he fear reprisal? And what is the cause of his nightmares? Meanwhile where is the blue diamond ring?

Sujets

• Juvenilee Fiction
• People
• Places
• Africa

Informations

• Publié par: Education Logistics
• Date de parution: 18 juillet 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9789988547615
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Published in 2019 by
EDUCATION LOGISTICS (GH) LTD
P.O. Box CT 5585
Cantonments, Accra
[e-mail]
www.educationlogisticsgh.com
ISBN978-9988-2-9806-7
Text © Kwasi Koranteng, 2019
Design and Illustrations © Eyedears Indesign, 2019
All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
Design and typesetting by Kwabena Agyepong
Cover design and Illustration by Elkana Kwadwo Mpesum
The publishers have made every effort to trace all copyright holders, but if they have inadvertently overlooked any, they will be pleased to make the necessary arrangements at the first opportunity.
Mpatapo
Adinkra symbol signifying peace, forgiveness, pacification and reconciliation.
Printed in India

This story is purely a work of fiction
and bears no relation to any places or
events or persons living or dead. Any
resemblance is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
T he bloody hippo gained on him as he sprinted along the beach sands. At first the beast had been far away, but it had gained on him too quickly, and the sands were getting more and more treacherous. Now he seemed to sink in with every step. It was close behind and he was beginning to tire. He could even hear it snorting. Then suddenly the sands turned bloody and he felt himself sinking. He could feel the hot breath of the beast on his neck. He was terrified, he knew that was the end. Then he screamed. A-a-i-i-i-i !
Medea, startled out of sleep, shook him. ‘Sonny, Sonny, what is it?’
Sonday sat up with a jolt. He was badly shaken. His pyjamas were drenched in sweat. He held his head in both hands.
‘What is it Sonny?’ Medea repeated.
‘A nightmare,’ he complained, pulling off his pyjama top. ‘Switch on the air conditioner.’
Medea had just turned on the air conditioner when they heard the frantic knock on the door. ‘Mother, Mother, what is it?’ Laila called out. ‘Is something happening to Father?’
Medea opened the door. ‘Your father, he was having a nightmare.’
‘Ha, I was frightened.’ Laila put a hand on her father’s shoulder. ‘Are you alright, Father?’
Sonday nodded. ‘I’ll be alright,’ he said, brushing a hand over his face.
‘Not at this time, Father. This is a happy time, you shouldn’t be having nightmares.’
‘He’ll be alright,’ Medea told her. ‘But before you go back, let’s say a word of prayer.’ The two women knelt down on the soft carpet and said a short prayer. ‘Now you can get back to bed, Sonny.’
Behind the window, the night guard stood wondering what was happening. He had been attracted by the master’s scream. He went back to the guard house when he heard the madam mention nightmare .
Sonday looked at the pillows and at the ceiling, as if something could crash down on his head. ‘I’ll take the breeze outside,’ he told them and stood up. Medea got him a fresh pyjama top from the wardrobe. He threw it on his shoulder and sauntered out.
‘Laila, go back to bed, I’m sure he’ll be alright,’ Medea assured their daughter again.
‘You don’t think there’s something wrong?’ Laila asked in an uneasy tone.
‘These things do happen, go back to bed.’ Laila walked out. Later, when Medea went to the front door to check, her husband was standing in front of the porch conversing with the night guard and smoking. She went back to bed.
** ** **
‘"They’ve abducted him! They’ve abducted him!" your mother screamed into the phone,’ Osim said. Kit, sitting beside him on the park bench, winced. ‘Shall I go on with the story?’
‘Please do,’ Kit answered in his bullfrog voice. ‘I am a soldier, and I must be prepared for it. Old boy, should he go on?’
‘Of course,’ Barlow said. ‘ I asked him to give you the full story. You need to know it before I go back home.’ He pushed the brake levers on his wheelchair forward to make it more stable on the grass. For a moment, he studied the wide grass lawns. They had been mown very neatly and evenly.
‘Right,’ Osim continued, ‘it was evening, and I was preparing to go into hiding. I had already sent my wife and children ahead to my hometown and was packing the most important things into a suitcase. I was going to vanish that night, leaving my house to the housekeeper. Your mother’s cries sounded desperate. I was in a fix, but I had to do something for my best friend and his family. I tried to calm her down and asked her who had abducted your father. She said four soldiers under the command of a captain. Christ!’ Osim slapped his head. ‘When she said a captain I knew who it was. Your father had mentioned a certain captain. Then I knew it could be a form of revenge.’
Kit tossed some pistachios into his mouth. It was a way of reducing the tension that was building up in him. He knew about the incident. He had been there that night but as a child he had not known the full details. He had often pressed his father, but the matter had been too emotional for the old soldier. He had always asked his child to wait till the right time. This was the moment of truth.
‘Then I asked her what dress old boy was wearing. She said a white pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. I assured her I was going to send someone to look for him, though I had no idea where he could be found. Meanwhile she was to leave the house with you, that was the advice I gave her. Then I gave her a number on which to contact me.’
‘We were to abandon the house?’ Kit asked.
‘Sure, boy, that was the wisest thing in the circumstances. You must have been too young then to understand,’ Osim told him.
‘I do remember that terrible night,’ Kit said. ‘Afterwards I often panicked and cringed at the sound of gunshots. I wept for my father and I wept for my mother both of whom had vanished, and I feared guns. Perhaps it was the fear of guns that made me decide to go into the army.’
‘Soldiers beget soldiers,’ Osim laughed, slapping Kit on the back. He scooped a handful of the pistachios from the packet Kit held out and cracked them with his teeth. Barlow sat still in his wheelchair, looking at a white woman walking her dogs in the distance. He was trying to picture Osim’s story. ‘Your mother never called again,’ Osim continued. ‘That was my last contact with her. But I was happy to learn later that you were safe with your Auntie. The next thing I did was to call my nephew Sanku who was then a captain in the navy, a happy-go-lucky, swashbuckling type who knew his way round a bit.’ Osim paused as his mind went back. ‘Oh, I was really fond of him. Too bad he lost his life in that nightclub fire outbreak.’
‘I’m really sorry about that,’ Kit empathised.
Osim drew in a deep breath and continued. ‘He offered to help. That very night he drove round and checked all the guardrooms but couldn‘t find him. So we were stuck. We lost hope of rescuing him. The next obvious thing was for Sanku to check at …’
‘Stop it!’ Barlow cut in, slapping the hand rest of the wheelchair. ‘I can’t bear to hear that part,’ he added as the sweat gathered on his forehead.
Osim stood up and stretched. ‘Sorry, old boy, I’m not trying to re-open old wounds,’ he apologised. He felt his stomach rumble and looked at his wrist watch. ‘It’s far past midday and I’m famished. We’ll continue at another time,’ he said, winking at Kit. ‘Shall we go to the Turkish Savour on Amhurst Road? It’s all on me.’
‘That’s the best news for today,’ Barlow said laughing. He pushed the brake levers of the wheelchair back. ‘Kit, let’s get going.’
Kit pushed his father along the pavements in the huge Clapton Park of London. They wound their way through the Pembury Estate and around the sheltered flats where Barlow had lived for the past twenty or so years. They went down Clarence Road, crossed the street at the end and went down Narrow Lane, past the old church building now used as a betting shop, then crossed Amhurst Road and entered the Turkish Savour.
‘So Kit, when we get back, there are three assignments you have to perform for me, even though your time is short,’ Barlow said as they tucked into the food. ‘Try and get him to come round and apologise. Then retrieve the prized painting he stole and the rings if possible, especially the blue diamond ring. Thirdly find your mother and bring her back to me if she’s not married. I pray that you are lucky this time.’
Osim sipped his wine. ‘Old boy, why can’t you forget about that fellow and get on with your life? If Kit is able to find Melissa and bring her back, you’ll be happy enough for the rest of your life, won’t you? Time should have healed your wounds.’
‘You may be right, Osim, but somehow, I feel strongly we must meet and shake hands to complete the healing process. Perhaps there’s a weakness in me. He says sorry and we shake hands, that’s all.’
‘What if he refuses?’ Osim asked.
‘He should be man enough to face his past.’
‘Hmm.’ Osim knew it would be difficult to dissuade his friend. ‘Any idea how you are going to arrange that?’ he asked Kit.
‘I have to find a way,’ Kit said.
‘But be careful you don’t have a brush with the law,’ Osim advised him. ‘You won’t carry a weapon, will you?’
‘Certainly not,’ Kit answered.
‘Remember my daughter and the children will be waiting here for you.’
‘Sure,’ Kit told his father-in-law.
‘Are you going to continue painting when we get back?’ Osim asked his friend.
‘Why not?’ Barlow replied. ‘I must keep myself busy, both mentally and physically, and it’ll also be a source of income. Once I’m a member of the Artists Alliance, I can always export my artworks here. They’ll sell them for me. I’ve already sent home the tools and equipment I’ll need. I’m sure with Melissa beside me, I’ll do much work, my back permitting.’ He sipped his wine. ‘The Alliance members felt sad that I was leaving. The farewell party was both a happy and tearful one.’
Barlow had registered with the Alliance two years into his stay in