True love abides in infinity

 And endures for eternity.

 True love is truth, pure and simple,

 And faith, never more ample

That evening, he sat alone at the table. His eyes

were glazed, and his gaze fixed, staring into nothingness. His mind seemed to have left his body to another time and place. The dim lighting, mixed with the smoke wafting through the room, made his silhouette, and his shadow against the wall loom large, giving him a sinister mien. He sat quietly, as if in deep contemplation. Every now and then he brought his head down from his gaze into oblivion and stared at something he was clutching in his right hand, squinting, holding the stare for a few moments and then returning it back into oblivion.

Father went to try and have a word with him. “Captain, can we get you something? A drink, a snack or anything?” He just looked right through Father. His gaze confused, and something that looked like a smile mingled with a grin and distraught sat on his face.

I had seen him like that before, and Father had warned me to stay clear of him.

“Abu, the man is ill,” Father had cautioned me, “stop going over to disturb him.”

When I asked what ailment the Captain had, Father had told me it was an ailment just like malaria. I had had malaria before, and everyone else I knew who had been ill with malaria before didn’t quite act as wildly as I had seen the Captain behave that day.

Captain was a large man. He stood about three inches above six feet, with large arms and a barrel-sized chest. It was quite a shock to see the large man hunched over Mrs. Axelworth bludgeoning away with his walking stick.

“Jerry bastard!” he yelled at her, “Nazi pig!”

Over and over, he smashed his stick at the little old lady on the ground. She was red all over, her flaxen hair smeared with blood.

“It’s all right Pearce, it’s all right,” she cried. “It’s me Marjorie. Please Pearce, you’re hurting me. Stop!”

“Shut up you pig,” the Captain barked. “You’ll be facing the firing squad tonight. There’s no point begging. You will be executed for crimes against the empire.”

I couldn’t fathom what Mrs. Axelworth could have done to infuriate her husband so. He had once told me she was the best thing in the world to happen to him. He owed her everything. They had met during the war in a military hospital in Egypt where she had been a nurse. Captain Axelworth had been brought to the hospital critically ill from injuries sustained in a shell attack. His left leg was amputated, and he had given up the will to live, but Marjorie had taken care of him. She had helped him learn to walk again with the prosthesis he had been fitted with.

Marjorie had nursed him back to life and restored his will to live. He had fallen in love with her and they got married.

After the war, Captain Axelworth was posted to Lokoja where he now worked as an administrative officer in the garrison. Mrs. Axelworth worked as an assistant matron in the district hospital and taught English and music part time in the mission school I attended.

Mrs. Axelworth was the kindest English woman I ever met. She corrected me nicely whenever I mispronounced an English word while reading from a Charles Dickens novel or the bible, unlike Sister Agnes at catechism class, whose corrections often came with a smack on the head. She also made the best buns I had ever tasted.

“No Captain, stop!” I yelled.

The Captain just looked right past me and continued his brutal assault.

Mrs. Axelworth’s eyes seemed to widen as she saw me, and with a voice laden with surprise and fear, she yelled out to me to stay back.

“Abu, please get Dr. Cummins, quick. The Captain’s ill,” the red little woman on the ground cried. “Get the doctor, Abu please.”

I was confused, unsure how the doctor could salvage Mrs. Axelworth from the possessed Captain. I made towards the Captain, not wanting to leave Mrs. Axelworth in the precarious situation she was in.

“No Abu, don’t come any closer, just run across town and get the doctor,” the helpless old lady pleaded as I approached. The stare the Captain gave me when I came nearer stopped me in my tracks.

I broke into a sprint, dropping the chessboard I had come to return. I ran straight towards the bar.

“Father! ...where’s Father?” I cried as I burst into the bar.

“Abu, what’s the matter?” Father asked in alarm from behind the bar.

“It’s Mrs. Axelworth. The Captain is beating her. She asked me to get Dr. Cummins, but I thought I should come over here to get you first. I’m afraid he might kill her. I heard him say she’ll be facing a firing squad tonight.

“That crazy old bastard’s finally lost it,” Charlie, who was sipping a whiskey at the bar, said. “We’d better go save his old lady before he does her in.”

Father told me I had done well, then asked me to quickly run to get the doctor while he, Charlie and the other men who were in the bar made towards the Axelworths’.

Dr. Cummins was not at the hospital when I arrived. Fatima, the matron got the ambulance driver to take me to his house after I narrated the tale of how the Captain was bludgeoning his wife. We found Dr. Cummins sitting on the porch of the two-story building he lived in when we arrived. He dashed in to get his bag when I told him what was happening.

When we arrived at the Axelworths’, Mrs. Axelworth was tied to the wooden fence. Captain Axelworth had a rifle on his side as he stood at attention. He seemed entranced, as if listening to some imaginary martial music.

Father and the other men were outside the gate pleading with the Captain. They ran towards us as the ambulance turned onto the graded driveway that led up to the Axelworths’.

“Don’t get too close doctor, he is threatening to shoot anybody that ventures near the gate,” Father said.

“We’ll see about that,” Dr. Cummins said as he made for the gate. “Pearce, what seems to be the problem?” he asked.

The Captain just stood at attention, still seemingly entranced by the imaginary music.

“Come on man, answer me,” Dr. Cummins demanded, making to open the gate.

“Dr. Cummins be careful,” Father and the other men warned.

The doctor slowly began to unlatch the gate, keeping his eye on the Captain. Father and the other men kept a safe distance. He had the gate fully opened in a short while, and that was when it came. The report of the shot rang sharply in the air, transfixing everyone in their places except for the birds on the baobab tree across the road as they fluttered away from the loud noise.

“Look here man,” Captain Axelworth bellowed, aiming the rifle at Dr. Cummins, “one more step and you’re a dead man.”

“Okay Pearce, it’s okay,” Dr. Cummins said, holding his hands high and away from his body. “As you can see, I am unarmed. All I want is for you to let Marjorie go.”

“This is your last warning,” Captain Axelworth snarled, “You are violating a military zone. Leave the perimeter at once.”

Dr. Cummins began to say something, when the Captain corked the rifle aimed at him.

“All right Pearce, all right, I am leaving, but don’t do anything stupid.” The doctor slowly stepped back, closing the gate shut as he made back towards us.

I was hunched behind my father when the doctor came back. “This is more serious than I thought,” he said. “We would have to get the District officer.”

“We’ve already sent for him,” Father said. “I just hope he gets here before he shoots her.”

“I say we just snipe the crazy old geezer,” Charlie said, “there’s no way somebody is not going to get hurt in this situation.”

“Thanks Charlie, but no one is shooting anybody this evening,” Dr. Cummins said.

“Yeah? How come he took a shot at you then? Maybe he was just testing his rifle to see if it works. It looks like it does to me. And you’re lucky you still have your head on. I’m telling you, the only way out of this is a sniper.”

Mrs. Axelworth hung helplessly on the fence where she was tied. She was sobbing, her face and hair red with caked blood and the red earth. She was muttering something none of us could make out. Her voice sounded croaky. Captain Axelworth suddenly broke out of his trance and began a slow march to and fro the length of the fence. Mrs. Axelworth muttered in her crooked voice again, this time a little more audible. It sounded as if she said she wanted water.

“Captain,” Dr. Cummins shouted, starting to get up from behind the ambulance where we were all crouched, making towards the gate again, “the lady says she wants a drink of water, let her have some.”

The Captain stopped his slow march and started to aim his rifle at Mrs. Axelworth.

“He’s aiming his gun at her. I said it!” Charlie exclaimed. “He’s going to kill her now.”

Dr. Cummins broke into a sprint towards the gate. “Come on Pearce, I have a can of water here, let me give her a drink,” Dr. Cummins made to open the gate and the Captain fired into the air for the second time that evening.

“You have been warned to vacate the perimeter, but you would not heed my warning. You leave me no choice but to neutralize your threat,” the Captain shouted as he aimed his rifle at Dr. Cummins who was just at the gate.

“Hold your fire Captain,” A stentorian voice rang out from outside the gate. “I say hold your fire!” it bellowed, and the Captain lowered his rifle to his side.

“Attention!” the voice ordered. The Captain crashed his right foot into the red soil at once. It was Major Carlton, the District Officer. He motioned Dr. Cummins out of the way and started towards Captain Axelworth.

“Name, rank and command,” he barked at the fully erect Captain.

“Axelworth, Pearce; Captain; Twenty Second battalion, Egypt.”

“Good lad Captain, good lad,” Major Carlton said. “The Empire is proud of you for your bravery,”

“Thank you, sir,” Captain Axelworth said through a crazed grin.

“You are to release the prisoner at once,” the Major ordered.

“But sir, she has committed a grave crime.”

“I know what she has done, Captain. She is to be released for interrogation at once Captain. That’s an order. Untie her at once.”

Captain Axelworth made towards Mrs. Axelworth. “One more thing Captain.”

“Sir!” snapped the Captain.

“You are to hand over your rifle to me.”

The Captain handed over the rifle to the District Officer, and that was when Father and the other men from the bar rushed over to restrain the Captain. They pinned him to the ground, and Dr. Cummins gave him an injection that seemed to instantly calm him down.

Mrs. Axelworth was untied from the fence, her face red. She sobbed profusely as she embraced the Captain on the floor where he was sprawled.

“It’s going to be all right,” Father tried to console her.

She and her husband were driven away in the ambulance accompanied by Dr. Cummins and the District Officer.

I went to visit the Axelworths at the hospital the next day. Dr. Cummins said Captain was resting and so was unable to receive any visitors, but I saw Mrs. Axelworth. She had her head and arms in bandages, and her face was a raw swollen hotchpotch of dark blue and red lacerations and contusions.

“Thanks Abu,” she said as she burst into a sobbing fit when I walked to her bedside. “The Captain is terribly ill. He’s a good man; he was just beside himself yesterday. It’s the fever he had, he’ll get well soon, you’ll see.”

Fatima, the matron, didn’t let me stay for long. She said Mrs. Axelworth needed a rest, but I think it was because she was crying.

“You may call back tomorrow, Abu. I’m sure by then Mrs. Axelworth would have been well rested.”

Mrs. Axelworth was still shaken when I visited again. It was important to her that I understood that the Captain was going to get better. It was just the fever that he had that made him behave as he had.

Dr. Cummins told me I couldn’t see the Captain when I asked to see him.

“He is quite ill Abu. I’m afraid I cannot let you see him, perhaps when he gets better, you’ll be able to see him.”

“Will he be better tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” he said, walking off to see other patients.

Fatima told me the next day when I came to the hospital that the Axelworths had been transferred to another hospital in Lagos.

Captain and Mrs. Axelworth were away for a long time. Every day as I walked past their gate while going to, or coming back from school, I would stop to gaze at the fence where the Captain had tied up his wife. I wondered what could have made the Captain behave so wildly.

Sometimes I would scale over the fence and peep through the dust encrusted windowpanes. The drawing room was not as neat as I had remembered it to be. Everything was in a state of dishevel. The chairs were on their sides, and the grandfather clock smashed. Even the mirror on the wall was smashed and the books, usually neatly arranged in their shelves, were strewn about. Only the grand piano was placed just where it had always been, under the crystal chandelier with a picture of Captain Axelworth in his cadet uniform, and two candles on top. I remembered how Mrs. Axelworth would play soft tunes on the piano, music she called Chopin, Mozart or Bach while the Captain taught me the rudiments of chess.

“This is called Capablanca’s gambit my lad,” Captain Axelworth would say, when he made one of the many incomprehensible moves he often made whenever I seemed to have his queen or king in a precarious situation.

I wondered if I would ever hear Mrs. Axelworth play the piano again, or be able to borrow any of her books with those wonderful tales of pirates and lost treasures, and the city of London.

I missed the Axelworths. Now I spent most of the evenings helping Father at the bar. It was quite a chore. Charlie and his pack made it even more so. It was either the chips were too salty, or the fish was under-cooked.

“I say, don’t you colonials know how to make fish and chips? Cor blimey, it’s the easiest thing in the world!” Charlie would complain.

“Let him be, Charles Hawthorne,” I heard a voice come to my rescue one evening.

“Mrs. Axelworth!” I exclaimed when I turned to see who my savior was. “When did you get back?”

The Captain and Mrs. Axelworth had come back from the hospital in Lagos that afternoon. The Captain had been discharged and asked to go home for a while. Mrs. Axelworth said he was much better and should continue to be as long as he continued to take his medications.

“We owe it all to you, Abu. I came to say how grateful we are to you and to invite you to dinner with us this evening. The Captain asked me to extend this invitation, so please come, Abu.”

I looked at Father who was standing behind the bar. He nodded his approval.

“The Captain asked me to give you this,” Mrs. Axelworth said as she handed me a parcel.

“Mrs. Axelworth you shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t know if I can accept this,” Father nodded that I could.

“Thanks Mrs. Axelworth,” I said, as I took the brown paper parcel.

“Go on, open it.”

“Oh Mrs. Axelworth!” I exclaimed as I peeled off the brown wrapping paper, it was a chessboard.

“I hope you like it.”

“I most certainly do.”

I hugged her and asked her to thank the Captain, promising to come to dinner that evening.

The meal was very sumptuous at dinner that evening at the Axelworths’. The Captain was his old self again, only he seemed much calmer. He was glad to see me and asked if I liked the chessboard.

“Oh, I do. Thank you most truly.”

Nothing was said about the hospital and the incident that led to it. And after dinner, we played chess, and Mrs. Axelworth played Chopin. I was glad that everything had come back to normal. What had happened had been a nightmare.

Mrs. Axelworth packed a bag of buns for me when it was time for me to go home.

“Say hello to your parents,” she said as she bade me goodnight.

I visited the Axelworths a few more times after that. The Captain and I played chess each time, and Mrs. Axelworth played the piano. But the Captain seemed to be more easily tired. He was also much quieter than he had been before he went to the hospital. Sometimes, while playing chess he would slip into a trance, gazing right through me as if I were not there. Mrs. Axelworth would lead him away when this happened.

“I’m sorry Abu,” she would say, “the Captain is tired. He needs to take a nap. Why don’t you come round tomorrow so that you can finish the game?”

I asked Father why this was so, and then he told me not to visit the Axelworths again until the Captain got better. That was two months ago. I stopped visiting, and never saw the Captain again until that evening at the bar.

I started towards the Captain at the table where he sat, but Father prevented me halfway. The Captain just sat there gazing at the object he had in his right hand.

“Hey Captain, give us a look. What have you in that bag you’ve got clutched in your hand?” Charlie began to clown. “Your old lady’s head?”

“Put a lid on it Charlie,” Father said, giving Charlie a warning stare.

“Me, a lid? The Captain’s the one who needs a lid. Or perhaps a strait jacket,” Charlie and his raucous crew laughed.

“I’m warning you Charlie,” Father said, “stop your wise cracks.”

“Cracks. Yeah, he’s definitely cracked if you ask me. Look at him.”

“That’s enough lads,” the District Officer said as he walked into the bar with the inspector and constable. Their faces were grim. Father went to meet them at the entrance to the bar. They spoke in low tones then walked towards the Captain.

“Captain Pearce Axelworth,” the inspector began, “you are under arrest....”

The District Officer waved his hand to signal to the inspector to stop. He pulled the chair opposite the Captain and sat down. They spoke for a few moments before both men stood up. The Captain was led to the waiting police van, and they drove off.

After the men had left, I walked over to the table where the Captain had sat. There was the paper bag that he had clutched in his hands. I picked it up, and then opened it. When I looked inside, there was a bottle of pills, and an old picture of Mrs. Axelworth.