GLORIA’S voice reached near and far. The terror in her voice made villagers look out.
“Look wuh going on with Uncle Ochro…” What they saw would never leave them and would haunt them for a long time.
Uncle Ochro, half-naked, ran and swung an axe. People were getting off the road. He seemed to have no particular target; no one waited to see if he had someone in mind. Some men had gathered together and were moving towards Uncle Ochro. Women and young people were getting off the road while the axe was swung in directions that were focused on groups, be they men or women.
They followed his stare and ran into safe yards; the children followed. No one at that time, be they young men or mature, jumped at the chance to disarm Ochro. But a mature group that pretended otherwise were indeed waiting for Ochro to err, and he did.
As he zoomed in on a group of women, he shouted, “Ahyuh always planning revolution in man house,” lifted the axe from his shoulder, and briskly stepped across the road, ignoring the men drifting behind him, spread out on both sides of the narrow road.
They attacked Ochro and wrenched the axe from his hand. He wrestled with the men, but they pulled him to the ground. The police arrived and agreed to take him to the nearby institution for a medical inspection. A few police remained with the men. They and the male villagers disarmed Ochro. Now it was they whom Ochro’s shaking wife approached and invited to their home. Of course, the men and the police followed. The hall was occupied by what appeared to be a circle with peculiar writings.
“What’s this?” inquired the police sergeant. An elderly villager responded, “It’s a mystical circle, the circle of the Book of Solomon. Nothing biblical.”
The policeman responded, speaking to his officer, “See if we can get a psychologist or medical person in that field of the not-so-ordinary.”
“Yes, sir. It will take some time, but as the Commissioner stated, it’s a human world, even from our own. Thank you, sir.”

De lamentables