Boy 87

by Ele Fountain

  “Shif, I need your help,” she says.

  “What?” I ask, happy to think about something else.

  “I need you to eat eggs for lunch tomorrow,” says Almaz.

  I look at her, confused.

  She holds up the gebeta box—half the eggshells have broken.

  “I dropped it,” she confesses, “when I was tidying up.”

  She looks so concerned that I find myself smiling.

  “OK, eggs tomorrow. Perhaps we should buy extra—just in case someone drops a few.”

  She pulls a face at me.

  Hunted

  Almaz and I cook dinner every night. I never cooked with Mum. She and Lemlem were a team. But I never offered to help either. There is no money for anything but lentils, flour and vegetables and some spices. No one has asked me to contribute, so I make myself as useful as possible. I learn to slice onions and about which spices to add to the lentils. Almaz shows me how to soak garlic and ginger, and is patient when I burn things because the pan is too hot or I forget to stir it. In the evenings we play gebeta. She beats me more than I beat her.

  “Have you ever played chess?” I ask.

  “No. What’s that?”

  “You have a square board and different pieces are allowed to do moves in different ways across the board. You have to try to plan each move in your head before you make it.”

  “That sounds complicated,” she says, but I can tell she’s interested. “Perhaps when we get to England you can teach me. Then I can beat you at that too.”

  When she says this she reminds me of Bini.

  “What do you want to do when we get to England? What do you want to be?” she asks.

  “I want to become a teacher. Perhaps maths—that was my favourite subject. How about you?”

  “I want to study palaeontology.”

  “Palaeont— What?”

  Almaz laughs. “Someone who studies dinosaurs.”

  “Seriously? What kind of job can you do after learning about dinosaurs?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe in a museum, or something to do with archaeology.”

  “Where did you learn about it?”

  “I can’t remember. I think my science teacher mentioned it once, and I didn’t know what she meant, so I looked it up. I like history, but I’m not interested in the history of presidents and kings—I want to learn about the history of the world, from the very start.” She carries on slicing chillies without looking up. “My mother wasn’t allowed to go to school. She doesn’t mind what I study, as long as I work hard. I like maths too,” she adds, “but not matrices.”

  I nod. “Bini didn’t like them either.”

  “Who’s Bini?”

  “My best friend.”

  She stops chopping and looks up at me. “Is he the one who tried to cross the border with you?”

  “Yes, that was Bini.”

  “We won’t forget the friends we’ve left behind,” is all she says.

  I’m glad she doesn’t ask me any more.

  “How did you get across the border?” I ask. I’m not ready to talk about Bini, but I like talking to Almaz. “Did you walk?”

  “We were hidden in the back of a truck—me and Mum and Dad. My father knew someone who worked for border security. He paid the man some money, and the man arranged for us to travel in the back of a truck, hidden under plastic sheets and sacks.”

  “Someone from border security helped you to get across the border?” I’m not sure whether to believe it.

  “I know. It seems so stupid. And if you have enough money, you can get straight from the border to the coast.”

  Money never seemed to matter very much when I was at home, but now that I’ve left, it seems money can decide everything.

  Despite trying to keep myself busy, as soon as people leave in the morning the room begins to feel smaller and smaller. I haven’t set foot outside for at least a week. I practise standing on my tiptoes, then dropping down onto my heel. My ankle feels completely better, and my ribs aren’t quite so visible in my chest like they were when I first arrived. I start doing press-​ups in the little courtyard. The longer I stay inside, the more I find myself thinking about my mum and Lemlem, and missing them. Sometimes I allow my thoughts to stray towards Bini, but never for more than a few seconds. Just long enough to wonder if he was alive when they took him back to the camp, or whether he died before he even got there. When will Medhanie get in touch with us again? Surely he must have the money by now. My thoughts seem to grow and fill the room.

  But then when I look over at Genet I realize that I am lucky. I am almost completely better, but her cuts refuse to heal and her fever has returned. Her wounds are starting to smell bad.

  One morning when everyone leaves, I can’t bear it any longer. Almaz and her mother are the last to go. Only Genet is in the room, asleep in the corner. I slip on my shoes, open the door as quietly as I can and pull it gently shut behind me. I step outside and blink in the daylight, which hurts my eyes. The alley stinks but I don’t care—it makes me feel good just to be somewhere else. I twist and turn down the narrow dusty roads until I reach the main road leading to the market.

  Almaz is walking just behind her mother on the near side of the market stalls. Despite Mesfin’s warnings to stay out of sight, I wander inside and look up at the roof. I find it hard to believe that I managed to sleep in the rafters. It’s Friday morning so the market is quickly becoming busy.

  I lose sight of Almaz and then see her again by the stall which sells lentils for a good price. Her mother is walking towards the fruit stall. As Almaz leans forward to pass her money to the stall keeper, I see a flash of movement as a man grabs the purse from Almaz’s hand, then runs down the aisle towards the main road. He is wearing a red keffiyeh. She shouts and runs after him. Her mother sees what is happening but is separated from her daughter by sacks of flour and lentils.

  The man dodges the other shoppers, or pushes them aside. Almaz follows. She is more nimble than the man, and is gaining on him. I realize that catching him could be a very bad idea. I jump over a sack of onions and chase after Almaz, swerving round women, who shout at me.

  The thief crosses the main road; a man on a motorbike turns sharply to avoid him and his bike clatters to the ground as he jumps aside. Then the man in the red keffiyeh does something strange: he tosses the purse towards the kerb. I realize it’s not the money he wants—it’s Almaz.

  Almaz reaches the main road and crosses towards the grid of narrow streets on the other side. My feet stumble as I look ahead to make sure I don’t lose sight of her. She darts down a dusty street after the man. I skid to a stop at the top of the street. Halfway down I see that the man has stopped too. He is holding Almaz by the waist. She has her back to him and is struggling to kick him or twist round to scratch at his face.

  “Put her down,” I shout.

  He doesn’t even look up. He is much bigger than Almaz and starts to overpower her, dragging her down an alley to the left. She is out of sight but I hear her yelling.

  I sprint towards them, ignoring the shooting pain which has restarted in my ankle. No one from the market is coming to help. I turn left and see Almaz and the man ten metres along the alleyway. When he sees me, he starts shouting. He has a long scar down his cheek.

  I run the final stretch down the alley until I am beside them. The man is about six feet tall; I push at his shoulder and try to grab his arm. He pins Almaz against the wall with one hand, then hits me in the face with the other. I fall backwards; my cheek and nose explode with a coldness which almost immediately turns to throbbing pain.

  Almaz manages to dig her knee into his stomach. As he doubles over, I scramble to my feet and knee him in the head. He falls backwards onto the cobblestones as another man appears at the far end of the alley and starts running towards us. I grab Almaz’s hand and push her in front of me.

  “Run!” I shout, but she is already running as fast as she can back towards the market.

  A
s I sprint after her, I hear the crunch of gravel as the injured man gets up and, with his friend, starts to chase us. We reach the end of the street and cross the main road to the market, swerving round the motorcycle which is still lying there.

  Shewit is standing by the edge of the stalls, looking frantically around. She sees us and lifts her hand. When we reach her, she pulls Almaz towards her, wrapping both arms around her shoulders. She releases Almaz only when she notices me, then grabs my face between her hands and kisses me on each cheek.

  I wince as she brushes my nose. I can feel the area around my eyes beginning to swell.

  “You saved my daughter. Thank you for saving Almaz.” Then she turns back to Almaz and hisses, “What were you thinking, running after that man?”

  Almaz looks down. She ran after him without hesitation. She has courage, but it seems to disappear with the realization that her mother could have lost another child, and of what that might do to her.

  I scan the market but cannot see either of the men who attacked us. The growing crowd must have forced them to keep their distance. But the people gathering around us don’t seem entirely friendly. There are some raised voices and a few people are pointing.

  “Heads down, and walk,” Shewit says quietly.

  Hiding

  We pass through the doorway into the cool room, which no longer seems small and stuffy. It feels friendly and safe, and hidden.

  Almaz goes to make tea. While she is busy, Shewit soaks a cloth in water and passes it to me. I rest it gently against the side of my throbbing nose.

  When Almaz returns, Shewit says softly, “A purse can be replaced. A daughter cannot.” Then she looks at me. “Let me see your face.”

  I peel away the cool cloth. “Does it look bad?” I ask.

  “Your nose might be broken,” says Shewit, “but it’s still straight, so you’ve been a little bit lucky.”

  When Mesfin comes home that evening, Shewit draws him towards the courtyard at the back of the room. I hear her talking quietly. After a few minutes, Mesfin returns looking agitated. He calls Almaz over and she sits down in front of him.

  “Promise me you will never do anything so reckless again?” he says quietly.

  “Yes, Dad, I promise. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re very lucky that Shif was there.”

  Mesfin calls me over next. I crouch low, and he leans forward and takes me by the shoulders.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  That night, although there are only lentils and chopped onion to eat for dinner, the room buzzes with conversation. It feels as if everyone has been waiting for something like this to happen, and now that it has, they are relieved, but also worried that the slave-​buying tribe knows we are here—and that they want Almaz enough to try to grab her in broad daylight.

  I think back to the truck which drove towards me as I stood by the thorn bush.

  “I think some men like that nearly picked me up when I was walking towards town from the desert.”

  “But they left you alone?” asks Mesfin.

  “They turned the truck around when I stood up.”

  “Perhaps they saw that you were injured. Maybe they thought you weren’t worth much in that state. A beautiful girl, on the other hand, is worth a lot of money,” says Mesfin.

  “Didn’t anyone from the market come to help?” Mesfin asks Shewit.

  “I think they were frightened too,” she says. “Or perhaps they don’t like so many refugees passing through their town.”

  “In that case,” says Mesfin, looking at Shewit and Almaz, “you two cannot leave this room again until it’s time to go.”

  “Then how will we eat?” Shewit asks.

  Mesfin turns to me. “You asked if you could do something to help. Now you can. You will go shopping for all of us.”

  I nod, feeling happy that finally I can do something useful.

  I go outside to help Almaz with dinner.

  “You look like a panda,” she says.

  I automatically lift my hand to my nose, then wish I hadn’t as pain shoots across my forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “Your eyes are black,” she giggles.

  “Well, I’m glad it’s so funny,” I answer, embarrassed by my appearance. “Next time I’ll just let you get kidnapped.”

  After dinner, Mesfin beckons for me to go and sit with him.

  “Ato Medhanie wants to see us tonight,” he says. “We’ll go now. It’s safer while there are still people on the streets.”

  As I slip on my shoes, Almaz comes over and touches my arm. “Good luck,” she says.

  I follow Mesfin out into the alley, following the same route across town as before. I recognize the compound by the enormous grapefruit tree in the corner.

  As we knock on the gate, a coldness passes through me. If the money hasn’t arrived from my uncle, then I will be staying here in this town on my own. I will need to get a job and cook and shop for myself, while trying to save money at the same time. It might take me a year, maybe five years, to have another chance to leave. Assuming I don’t get kidnapped first.

  But the thought which frightens me the most is being separated from Almaz and her family. They are the reason I am still alive right now. They give me the strength to keep going when Mum and Lemlem are so far away. I’m not sure I could start all over again on my own.

  We walk through the gate and towards the table where the man in the white shirt is waiting. He is on his own this time but talking loudly on his phone. When he sees us, he waves us over to sit at the table.

  “Coffee?” he asks, holding his phone away from his face for a second.

  Mesfin nods.

  Medhanie shouts something towards the house, then continues his phone conversation, which seems to be making him angry. He cancels the call and slings his phone on the table as a woman arrives with two small cups and a coffee pot. He looks at me. “What happened to your face?”

  “Nothing. Just a fight,” I answer.

  Medhanie nods, as if he isn’t surprised. “Your uncle must care about you. The money has arrived.” He looks at Mesfin. “You’ll pay me the rest of what you owe on Friday?”

  Mesfin nods. “As soon as I’ve finished work.”

  “Good. Then it’s time to tell you what will happen next. Before I do, any questions?”

  I can’t think of anything to ask. I know Bini would have thought of something important. So would Almaz.

  He explains details of the pick-​up and the journey, then shakes our hands.

  “I’ll be waiting by the truck on Monday to oversee the operation,” he says.

  When we get home, Shewit and Almaz come silently over to greet us. Shewit points to Genet and her husband asleep on the floor, so we gather outside in the small courtyard, crouching amongst the pots and pans.

  “Shif is coming with us,” says Mesfin.

  Shewit reaches over and hugs me, then Almaz does too. I feel included, part of something good.

  “On Monday evening some men will come to the house and take us to the truck,” Mesfin explains. “We’ll be provided with water and food, but we must wear as many clothes as we can because there won’t be space for luggage—maybe one bag between us. Medhanie said the truck is a new one and we might reach the border to the north of the desert in five days. We’ll be met there by some of his contacts, who will drive the final stretch to the port. We must wait there until the boat is ready to take us, then we sail for Italy.”

  That night I lie in bed staring at the ceiling. There are only four days between now and the truck to freedom.

  Almaz is lying next to her mother on the other side of the room. Moonlight glows around the edge of the shutters and I see that her eyes are open too.

  I run through the list of names and phone numbers to try and calm myself. Mum taught me the number for her friend who lives in England. Once I arrive there, I am to call her first, and then call Mum to let her know that I’m OK. Only now I won’t be able to call Mum.
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  I wonder what school is like in England. I could never make another friend like Bini, but will I make any friends at all? I can speak pretty good English, but our teacher had never met a native English speaker and guessed at how words should actually sound.

  I wake early as usual, feeling groggy from little sleep.

  The others are stretching and yawning. Genet is the only one lying still. Her husband takes a small cup of tea over to her and sits down quietly, stroking her hair. Genet’s leg has started to turn a bluish colour. There is no money for a doctor. Everything her husband earns goes towards the fee for Medhanie.

  Almaz goes outside to boil water but her father calls her back. Normally Mesfin is at work by now. He beckons for me to go and sit by him, Shewit and Almaz.

  “The men at work say that someone has been asking questions about me. I think the kidnappers are angry that Almaz escaped from them and they want to find us. All of us. Even if not to sell, then to punish. Take this money.” He hands me a small bundle of dirty notes. He looks at Shewit. “There isn’t much. I won’t be able to work today or tomorrow, and I needed to take out some extra money to make up the final payment for Ato Medhanie. Tell Shif what he needs to buy with it. This is the last time anyone will go to the market, so we must have food for the next four days, even if it’s just lentils.” He looks to me again. “Be quick, and make sure no one follows you. I’m going to take the money to Ato Medhanie now.”

  As I slip on my shoes, Almaz passes me the shopping bags.

  “Be careful,” she says.

  I nod, and silently I leave the house.

  As soon as I arrive at the market, I can tell that something is different. I walk towards the trader I’ve seen Almaz visit before to buy lentils for a good price. Around me is the normal hum of conversation, punctuated by a motorcycle horn or a shout, but the trader doesn’t chat in the relaxed way he usually does. He barely looks up as he gathers my order.

  I notice a short man standing in the shadows near where I spent my first few nights in the market. He is watching me, but turns away when he sees me looking. I scan the market and notice another man standing at the far edge of the traders, next to the road. He doesn’t look like he’s buying anything; he’s just leaning against one of the poles, picking his teeth with a stick. He is wearing a blue keffiyeh, but I recognize him. It’s the man with the scar.