Accra Noir. Группа авторов

she got away. She said he fell asleep after he was finished with her, and she sneaked out. The officer asked if she could find her way back to the place. The girl said she could but did not want to go. But the officer convinced her and called one of the constables to come with them. The girl led them to the place. It was in darkness and quiet. The girl pointed to the door. The officer told the constable to take the girl back to the station and wait. The constable did not want to leave the officer, but he followed orders. The officer went into the room, and the man was there sleeping, just like the girl said. He had on a singlet and a pair of jeans, but he was on his back, and his jeans were zipped open and he was exposed. He slept with his mouth in a sneer. Maybe it was this or the white panties near the man’s hand that made her do what she did. She found what she was looking for under the bed. She did not even bother to wake him up.

       11

       A Woman

      —I never even bothered to wake him up.

       12

       A Woman

      —You know there was a riot, right? They attacked the police station and then I was officially asked to take leave. I have not been back. They have not written to me or maybe they have. I think somebody told me that they wanted to place me at the police college because I could be helpful there. I was there when the man’s brother, an air force officer, brought his men to the station. Big men in their fatigues. From flight lieutenant up, every air force person feels he is a big man. And they beat up the small constable at the gate. But then of course, the rest of them took out rifles and stood there quarreling, and maybe there was a punch. But the man’s brother was crying too, because he said that people make mistakes, so why would we do him like that? I know my brothers wanted to be firm and hard, but because of what I did to him, well, every man would feel that I went too far, because I know that when they said it they wanted to hold themselves too, and I understand that, but I told them that they should understand that that is what my vagina felt like when the girl was telling me what happened to her, what he did to her, and when I saw her breasts with the slash, and when I saw the lacerations on her vagina, and when I saw how her eyes were so deeply wounded, well, it was me, and it was the same thing. Why must a woman have to suffer without revenge? I know in their heads they knew I was correct, but they could still only think of themselves with their penises. That is why nobody asked questions. I know that. A woman who does that to a man, and then leaves him to die like that, bleeding . . . Well, she is dangerous. But you know what I kept asking myself? The whole time, I kept asking myself, Where is this man’s mother? Maybe she was there, but I had this idea that if she was with him, if she was looking after him, I don’t know, maybe he wouldn’t . . . Isn’t it terrible how even we women take the blame for what our boys do? Even as I was thinking this, I was ashamed of my thoughts. But I had a son, and I could not say where he was that night. This is what a woman in my position must ask. I was a dangerous woman. Is that why you are here, now? Are you his brother?

       13

       A Man, a Woman, and a Boy

      —They want you back on the force.

      —Is that what they told you?

      —We need strong officers. You know that. They want you back.

      —You are here to ask me to leave my perfect life to go back to that life?

      —I am.

      —I left because I knew after I did it that I was dangerous. I did not even breathe heavily. I found the cutlass, looked at the blade. Then I took his pillow and put it over his head. I climbed on the bed and put my knee on the pillow, and I was amazed at how few chops it took for the thing to fall away. He was jumping, and there was blood. So much blood. But I held him down until he stopped. People do not want to die. And yet, I just walked out of the room and back to the station, just slightly straining my muscles from the labor, but in no time, I was washed and at my desk. I gave the girl some money and told her to go back home. I was too cool. At first, I hoped it was shock. But I stayed cool. Even now, I feel the same way. And because I know I can do that . . .

      —Sometimes that is what it is like.

      —I don’t think so.

      —But we still want you back.

      —We?

      —Yes, the church.

      —Oh, Pastor, I believe I have backslidden too far.

      —It is never too late.

      —Ma, it is late, we should go now.

      —Yes, Kwaku, get the baskets.

      —I can give you a lift down to the junction.

      —You see that boy? That is why I have not tried to go back. The problem with the woman officer is that unless she can find a wife, her family will suffer. I do not have a wife. You have a wife, I know. You look satisfied. That night, while I sat there waiting for morning, I started to wonder where my boy was. He was sleeping, I thought. But I did not know for sure. We make these connections. I knew I could not continue. I did not want another officer to be slicing off another young man’s penis and wondering where his mother is. I did not even bother to wake him up . . .

      —Ah! There it is again. Look!

      —Yes, yes. Oh. It is very big tonight.

      —Look how the place is shining. My goodness.

      —It is beautiful.

      —It is.

      After “Advantage” by Colin Channer, from Providential (Akashic Books, 2015)