“He’s an enemy!” Sa Reh bellows.
“He would have died if we’d left him there!” Ree Meh yells.
Now Sa Reh’s eyes are on me. “That scum should have died,” he says, and walks away.
Before Ree Meh and I have a chance to talk, Oo Meh comes running up. “Mua wants you both home for lunch. And then it’s time for school.” She looks over her shoulder at Sa Reh’s retreating figure. “Why was he so mad?”
“I don’t know,” I answer.
But I do know.
Thanks to my decisions in the jungle, I’ve lost my best friend in camp, probably forever.
21
Mua tells us the council has chosen a site for the girls and their grandfather. It’s close to the river, a bit away from the other huts.
“Unmarried girls need privacy, so it’s good that it’s set apart,” she says, serving us dried fish and rice. “Tu Reh, you must help them build it. After school, of course. And you’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep until it’s ready.”
“Yes, Mua,” I answer. Hard work will take my mind off my worries, and besides, I don’t mind spending every minute I can with … working.
Building the hut, of course. Making it secure for the girls and their grandfather.
After lunch my sister, Ree Meh, and I walk to school. “I told the other girls about you this morning,” Oo Meh says, clutching Ree Meh’s hand. “They can’t believe how brave you were, living in the jungle with just your sister and your grandfather. I told them how you used to hunt your own food, and they want to hear all about it.”
Ree Meh looks slightly less anxious, and I ruffle my sister’s hair. When did she get so smart?
The teacher enrolls Ree Meh with a welcoming smile. Like Chiko, he stepped on a mine when he was a boy. Now he bounds around the classroom on his prosthetic, telling jokes and waving his hands in the air as he teaches history, math, ethics, science. If he weren’t so interesting, I might put up more resistance to my parents’ school-until-you’re-eighteen rule, but he’s one of the best teachers around.
Thanks to Oo Meh’s buildup, the other girls greet Ree Meh warmly. They come up to her at recess as if she’s a magnet. I watch her standing with her chin up, fielding questions about life in the jungle, and admire how she hides her nervousness.
Meanwhile, some of the boys gather around me.
“Did you really save that Burmese boy’s life, Tu Reh?”
I nod.
Someone snickers. “Gotten soft, haven’t you?”
“What does Sa Reh think?” another boy asks.
I shrug and walk away. Sa Reh is easily the best kickboxer in camp, tells the funniest jokes, and once single-handedly killed a king cobra that slithered into church. Younger kids especially look up to him—he takes them fishing and plays games with them for hours when the rest of us won’t. When Sa Reh made me his best friend, this strange new place felt a bit like home. Now what am I going to do?
Thankfully, work on the girls’ new home gets under way that afternoon, and it’s a distraction. Nya Meh is still in the doctor’s hut, but Ree Meh and I start cutting bamboo. We use Mango to haul the heavy loads. The grandfather sits on the bank, weaving smaller bamboo strips into a lattice for the windows and door.
“We work together well,” I tell Ree Meh quietly, so the old man can’t hear.
She smiles, moving her braid over her shoulder to keep it out of the way.
Oo Meh stops by to “help.” “The council decided to let the whole camp vote on Chiko,” she informs us.
“How did you find out?” Ree Meh asks.
“This one knows it’s going to storm before the clouds do,” I say. I’m relieved because the news means that the council wasn’t unanimous about taking Chiko back to the jungle right away.
I can’t ruffle Oo Meh’s wispy hair like I usually do when I tease her because she’s somehow managed to weave it into a thin, scraggly braid. She tosses it around every five minutes and stays glued to our side, chatting constantly and focusing on Ree Meh’s every move. I can’t blame my sister. I’m having trouble controlling my own eyes.
When it gets too dark to work, the old man heads to the place where he’s staying, and the three of us go back to my hut.
Nya Meh’s already there. “How is he?” Ree Meh asks her sister.
“On the outside, healing well. But on the inside? Sad. Quiet. The doctor asked for you to stay there tonight, Tu Reh. And so did Chiko.”
Not again! Well, what do I have to lose? Besides, my mat is still there and I don’t really have any other place to sleep.
This time Chiko’s awake when I get there.
“Feeling better?” I ask.
“A bit. Not much to do except think about this, though.” He gestures to where his leg used to be. “Where were you all day?”
“At school. My parents are making me go until I’m eighteen. My friend—a boy I know—stopped when he was fourteen. He spends time with the men while I’m stuck doing lessons with a bunch of children.”
“I’d love to study something—something hard to take my mind off this. You learn in Karenni, right?”
“Right. Teacher tries to teach us English, but we’re hopeless at it.”
“My peh taught me English. I can read and write it, too.”
I yawn and spread out my sleeping mat. “Maybe we’ve got some English books in the schoolroom.”
His eyes get wide behind his glasses. “Books? Really? I haven’t read a book in months. Months, Tu Reh!”
“I’ll ask tomorrow. Go to sleep now, Chiko.”
But he’s not done yet. “Your teacher any good?”
“He’s not bad. In fact, you should meet him. He stepped on a mine years ago. Lost his knee, too, but he can still chase and catch the little ones just fine.”
“Really?”
“Really. Now go to sleep.”
“One more thing.” He hesitates. “What’s going to happen to me, Tu Reh? Do your leaders think I’m a spy?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “The council called a camp vote for this Friday. They’ll decide what to do with you then.”
“Will they—will they kill me?”
“No. I don’t know what they’ll do, but they won’t murder you.” They might make me carry you back to the jungle and leave you there, I think, but I don’t say it out loud.
He sighs in relief and settles down to sleep. I shake my head as I stretch out on my mat. This boy believes everything I tell him. For his sake, I hope I’m right.
22
In the morning my first thought is of Peh, searching for Karenni in the jungle. It’s been a week since we said good-bye. What dangers is he facing? Will he, too, come back without a leg, an arm, his eyes? Will he come back at all?
Chiko’s still asleep when Ree Meh and the healer arrive, bringing breakfast again from Mua. “I want to teach you about antibiotics today, Nya Meh,” Auntie Doctor says. “They are miracle medicines, but you have to use them sparingly.”
Ree Meh and I head off to school. “Ready for your second day?” I ask.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” she admits. “Thanks to your sister, the girls think I’m some kind of hero.”
“You are,” I say, and she smiles.
We part ways at the door, and she makes her way to the girls’ side of the room. At recess, when the other boys surround me again, I ignore their questions and teasing and walk away. I’m almost as good at kickboxing as Sa Reh, and the strongest wrestler in school by far, so they don’t follow me.
Before I leave that afternoon, I quietly approach the teacher. I know I can trust him. He used to scold Sa Reh and me about the way we hated the Burmese. “Revenge makes you a prisoner,” he’d tell us, and we’d nod, but afterward we’d joke about how he probably lost his manhood along with his leg.
“I do have a few English books that a foreigner left behind,” the teacher says now. “Why do you want them?”
“They’re for the Bu
rmese boy in the doctor’s hut,” I say, keeping my voice low. “He can read English. And he misses books.”
“I’ll take them to him myself,” the teacher says. “Your soldier sounds like a smart kid, Tu Reh.”
There it is again—“my” soldier. Am I ever going to change that?
That afternoon Nya Meh comes to visit the site for the new hut. She’s carrying an empty bucket. “The doctor needs more water,” she tells us.
Ree Meh describes for her sister how we’re going to orient the building, with the windows facing the river and the door toward the village.
Smiling her approval, Nya Meh wades into the shallows to fill the bucket. Ree Meh, Mango, and I are heading to the far shore to cut more bamboo when we hear splashing behind us. I turn to see Sa Reh approaching the healer. He’s ignoring me and Ree Meh completely, but for once he’s not chewing betel nut.
“I did tell him to talk to her,” Ree Meh mutters. “But I didn’t think he’d take me up on it.”
I try not to make it seem like I’m staring or spying. Sa Reh’s interest in the healer seems curious to me, but maybe he just wants to get to know her better. He did say he thought she was pretty.
I see him take Nya Meh’s bucket. After filling it for her, he stands beside her for a while. I can’t hear them, but I can tell he’s doing most of the talking, with Nya Meh listening intently.
Let her talk, too, I want to tell him. But who am I to give advice? Some kind of girl expert? It’s a good thing Ree Meh likes to work without talking because I’m not too confident about my own conversation skills.
As Sa Reh and Nya Meh leave the river together, I can’t help feeling a bit more hopeful. If anybody can convince Sa Reh that I did the right thing, it’s Nya Meh. Maybe they’ll get to that subject soon.
Ree Meh, her grandfather, and I work on the girls’ hut until dinnertime. Nya Meh joins us later that evening. She doesn’t say anything about Sa Reh, and her sister doesn’t ask. Neither do I, of course, but I can’t help wanting to know what they talked about. Did he tell her more than he told me about losing his mother? He changed the subject when I brought it up once or twice after he confided in me. But I still have my mua, and neither Nya Meh nor Sa Reh have theirs.
I’m glad to see that the girls’ company keeps Mua from worrying too much about Peh. When we give thanks for the meal, she says a prayer for Peh’s safety, and her voice trembles. But afterward, beside the fire, mending clothes and talking, she seems to forget her fears as she tells the girls stories from her childhood. I stay as long as I can, enjoying their teasing and laughter, but soon Mua shoos me out the door.
After the lively talk inside our hut, the long walk to the doctor’s hut seems dark and dull. Chiko will be waiting for me there, with his stump, his sad eyes, and his questions. Suddenly I long for Sa Reh’s company. I wish he could be there with me—to banter insults back and forth, and maybe even to make Chiko laugh.
As I pass Sa Reh’s hut, on an impulse I climb halfway up the ladder and peek inside like I used to before I left for the mission. A few men are gathered around a map, pointing and talking. Sa Reh spots me first and—I can’t believe he does this—actually spits a gob of red betel juice right at me. It lands short, but the men look up, and I see that they’re Bu Reh’s allies—the toughest warriors in camp.
“Looking for a new place to sleep, Tu Reh?” asks Bu Reh. His tone is pleasant, but I notice he hasn’t scolded his son for spitting at me. “Why not come all the way up?”
I don’t move. “No. No, thanks. I’m all right.”
“Can’t wait for the meeting on Friday,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “We’ve got a plan for your soldier that we think the camp is going to like.”
The men laugh. “He won’t like it,” Sa Reh says, tipping his head in my direction.
“Isn’t that Oo Reh’s boy?” one of Bu Reh’s cronies asks. “How did a brave man like that let his own son get soft?”
Bu Reh shrugs. “I’m looking forward to asking him when he gets back.”
I make myself climb down the ladder before I leap into the room and kick someone—preferably Sa Reh.
I’m not soft! I care just as much about the cause as they do! Thankfully, their reminder of Peh brings to mind that surprising moment when he put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. He knows what kind of Karenni man I am, at least—and that’s what counts. My thoughts turn to the plan they’re concocting. It can’t be good news for Chiko, I’m sure.
When I get to the hut, Chiko is holding a book close to his face in the dim light of the kerosene lantern.
“Your teacher came by,” he tells me. “He told me all about getting a new leg. He walks decently, Tu Reh.”
“Told you.”
“If he can be a teacher with only one leg, why can’t I?”
“You probably could if you wanted to.”
“He loaned me three books in English—they’re called The Lord of the Rings. Written by a British author. He hasn’t read them, but the foreigner who gave them to him told him they were good. I’m almost halfway done with the first one. It is good, Tu Reh. Want me to read you a bit? I can try to translate it into Burmese.”
“Not now. We need to sleep. Tomorrow you can finish it.”
“But Frodo has the Ring, Tu Reh. The Ring!” He hands me the book and his glasses reluctantly.
I have no idea what he’s talking about. I put his things on the nightstand beside his bed, make sure he has water to drink, and blow out the lamp.
23
The next afternoon, I spot Sa Reh and the healer sitting on the bridge where he and I used to fish. Again he’s talking earnestly, and the healer’s listening, her eyes fixed on his face. Nya Meh smiles as I pass, but Sa Reh ignores me.
Sa Reh’s not the only one in camp who wants nothing to do with me. The teasing at school is getting worse each day. Adults are brushing past me, too, not meeting my eyes—not many, but enough to make me wish Peh were here to stand with me on Friday. This council meeting is my last chance to prove that
I’m still a Karenni fighter. I have to show them all that I’m the same Tu Reh I was before I left on the mission.
But am I? That night, as Chiko talks about his home, family, and dreams for the future, I can hardly believe this is me, Tu Reh, listening to a Burmese soldier. Am I forgetting? I close my eyes to picture the soldiers who threw the burning torch on our house and bamboo grove. Sadness comes winging back like an arrow. I’d still do anything to get our village back—anything to keep my people alive. But somehow this boy isn’t a part of that anymore.
“Your mua came by to bring me lunch,” Chiko tells me. “She reminds me a lot of my mother.”
I’m glad Mua came. She never questioned me after hearing what Peh said, but I could tell that she had doubts. Now that she’s met Chiko, I’m sure she understands exactly why I decided to bring him here. “Her Burmese isn’t great,” I say. “Were you able to talk?”
“She asked a lot of questions about my family. And she told me about your home in the village, Tu Reh. And how it was burned. I’m—I’m sorry.”
I can’t answer. It’s a strange sensation, hearing a Burmese soldier apologize. What am I supposed to say?
“Do you have dreams for the future, Tu Reh?” Chiko asks suddenly.
“Not as big as yours,” I say. “Some land, some rice, a family, a home. That’s all.”
“That’s enough. Who needs more than that? I hope you get it.”
“I hope so, too.”
His leg is healing well, but his face grows sad as he reaches out to finger the bandages on the stump. It’s gone forever—there’s no changing that. But will he survive long enough to get a replacement? Or will the camp decide that he’s too much of a risk?
When Friday comes I can hardly concentrate on school. Ree Meh and I work on the hut through the afternoon without saying much. Tonight’s the meeting. Tonight the people will decide what to do with Chiko. Somehow I’m going to
have to prove to Sa Reh and everybody else in camp that I’m my father’s son, a patriot, a man for the Karenni. I keep slashing and cutting bamboo for a while even after Ree Meh leaves to get ready. The familiar motion relaxes my tense muscles.
When I arrive at the meeting, the large room is already packed. Auntie Doctor is sitting with Mua and the girls in the second row. The president gestures to me, and I join the grandfather on the bench in front of the girls. Sa Reh and his father are across the aisle. Sa Reh’s face is stony, and he doesn’t glance my way.
I’m not on trial. I haven’t done anything wrong. So why does it feel like I’m about to get sentenced? Peh, where are you? Wouldn’t it be amazing if he got back right now, right this minute? But I know his mission isn’t finished. Peh would never come back early if he could help it.
As usual, the pastor starts the meeting with a prayer and a Bible reading before the president takes over.
“Come up here, Tu Reh.”
I rise and go forward. “Tell the people how and why you brought your soldier to the healer’s hut.”
Trying not to flinch at his choice of words, I keep my eyes on Ree Meh as I tell the whole story again, sticking to the facts. The room is quiet as people listen closely.
“And then Peh told me I had to choose what to do. So I decided to take the soldier to the healer’s hut.”
“Why?” the president asks, but he doesn’t sound accusing. Not yet, anyway.
I take a deep breath. “He’s younger than I am,” I say. “I couldn’t leave him there to be killed by animals.”
“Why didn’t you do a mercy killing, then?” The question rings out from the back of the room; I can’t tell who’s asking it.
I shrug. “He’s just a boy,” I say again. “Go and see for yourself. He’s in the doctor’s hut.”
“He’s a spy! His father’s a criminal!” This time I know who said the words—they came from the front row. From Sa Reh’s angry mouth.
“Raise your hands to comment, please,” the president says. “We must have order in our meetings. And Tu Reh’s right. The soldier is quite young. I questioned him myself, and I personally don’t believe he’s a spy. Others might still have doubts, but I’m fairly sure this particular soldier doesn’t know much.”
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