by Julia North
I laughed loud as their red blood spurted out and then turned to run after the women who were cleaning the corn. I caught one by her legs and dragged her back. I screamed with my face pulled back like a devil as I chopped hard down on her foot with my machete. The red blood sprayed up around me and I felt it splatter onto my face. I breathed deep from its smell and stood on her back as I hacked off her hands.
“Find the food,” I shouted to my boys.
They ran to the doors and fired lines of red thunder into the huts. The thatch flew off and the mud shot out from the sides around the village. Some of the woman and children had escaped screaming into the bush. Badboy and Shithead took off after them.
I stood and looked with shining eyes around the village. The bodies were spread out over a wide area, their blood still coming from their half arms and legs. They would be dead soon.
“No more Nigiri village,” I screamed at them lying on the ground. “You see what happens if you feed the rebels. You are dead people because you have betrayed the L.R.A. It is your own fault.”
I turned to Joshua, Vincent and Bongi who were coming out of the huts with big sacks of corn and beans. Joshua’s sack was so heavy for him that he was nearly bent double but Vincent carried his on his back and came fast. Bongi had one on his back and pulled another one behind him. “Move. We’re done here,” I commanded.
They walked faster and stared forward with fierce faces. Badboy and Shithead came smiling out the bush. “We’ve got some good hands and feet,” said Badboy, holding up his machete red with blood.
I gave him a high five as we left the wailing village and moved back into the bush to meet Bilole. They’d paid well for their wrong and my spirit was happy.
Chapter 34
We eat an amazing lunch of roast chicken with roast potatoes, cabbage, orange pumpkin and fresh green beans with lots and lots of spicy chicken gravy. I’ve never had such a dinner and it makes my whole body feel good. After that we’ve a Christmas pudding which has raisins and cherries in it and a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. The cool ice cream slides down my throat and I can’t stop grinning. To end we’re given bags of colored boiled sweets. My stomach is so full I think that it’ll explode. I lean back in my chair and place my two hands on my round belly. Tula’s sat opposite me the whole lunch. She’s smiled a lot and I think maybe she really does like me. I look under my eyelids at her. She’s eating her pudding with small spoonfuls and looks so pretty.
“That was too good,” says Richard, patting his stomach. “Now I’m a fat pig.”
“Yes, you are,” I joke. “It’s your fault for eating two platefuls.”
“You also had two. We are two fat pigs.”
“No, three.” I laugh. “Look at Trigger. His cheeks are still fat with food. He’s number one pig.”
Tula’s voice breaks through our laughter. “Do you want to walk down by the river later, Modetse?” she asks.
“Ah…yes,” I stammer.
Richard and Trigger go quiet and smirk at me. Trigger gives a big wink but I ignore him.
“A group of us are going down. Richard, you and Trigger must also come.”
My heart sinks. I thought she was asking only me. I see Richard and Trigger grin. Richard looks at me and raises his eyebrows. I pull a face.
“Okay, come,” I say.
“Race you to the river, Modetse,” says Trigger, jumping up.
I jump up to follow him but Tula stops us.
“We need to change first silly.” She laughs. “Go get your old shorts and I’ll see you all at the river just now.”
“Okay,” we chant.
I feel stupid that I hadn’t thought about it. How could we swim in our Christmas clothes?
We run back to the hut and change into our old shorts. I take out my wallet and have another deep sniff of the rich leather. I put it carefully inside my pillowcase so no one can find it. I’ll sleep on it tonight and dream of the future. I stop suddenly at myself. Maybe it is better not to be L.R.A. Maybe it’s better to be a businessman with lots of money. My mind pictures me as the big businessman with Tula as my wife and Thandi back with us and going to the school. A warm feeling moves across my chest and I breathe deeply.
“Hey, Modetse, come on. What you doing?” shouts Richard.
I jerk back from my dream and grab my towel. “Here, take this,” I say, throwing it at Richard. “Where’s Trigger? I want to go.”
“We’re waiting for you. Come don’t you want to see Tula in her costume?” asks Trigger with a jackal smile. “Come I’ll race you down.”
“No, I don’t,” I say with hot cheeks as I follow him out and we race down to the river.
We reach the bank panting and out of breath. The sun is hot on my back and the brown water feels good as we splash into it. I hit the surface hard with my flat hand so that it springs up in Trigger’s face and into his eyes.
“Aeei,” he shouts, grabbing me and trying to force me under the water but I clutch his head at the back and push him into the water. “Give up,” I shout, and he comes up spluttering and coughing.
But he grabs me again and pushes me down. “I won that one,” he shouts, throwing his fist high in the air.
“Not for long,” I say, and push him under again.
I look sideways to see if Tula’s watching. I hear a laugh and turn to see her smiling at us from the bank. I move towards the water’s edge and splash some of it up towards the bank so that it hits her legs.
“Oh,” she squeals, but smiles. “It feels good.”
“It is,” I shout. “Come in.”
“Okay.”
Tula takes off her towel. She’s wearing a bright orange costume underneath and looks too good. I try not to look with man eyes as she comes to the water.
“I brought some towels and refreshments,” shouts a voice from behind her.
I look up to see Bengu standing at the edge of the forest. Why does he have to come and spoil it? He holds a basket, which looks full of cokes. Three of the small children are with him.
“Come in, Bengu. The water’s lovely,” calls Tula wading in.
“We will,” shouts Bengu, and my stomach clenches. He takes off his shirt and stands tall in his blue swim shorts. His arm and chest muscles are strong. He’s very good looking that one. He even looks a bit like Tula and my heart jumps with the fear that she’ll like him more than me. How can I compete with a boy like this?
Bengu takes the hands of Lily and Zinzi and splashes into the water. The little ones shriek and hit the water with their small hands. Then Lily grabs up at his chest with her uplifted arms and he picks her up and throws her high in the air so that she lands laughing back into the water with a big splash. He pulls her up before she can go under and she hugs him and shouts, “More!”
I give Tula a small smile.
“My turn,” shrieks Zinzi.
“Come, Modetse, you throw Zinzi.” Tula laughs. “Bengu can look after Patrick.”
I go over and pick up the excited Zinzi and throw her high in the air. She squeals with the happiness and she splashes down, and then I grab her and pick her up again. She puts her arms and feet around me like a frog and hugs me. It is like I’m holding Thandi again and before I can stop it tears fill my eyes. I blink and turn my head.
“You okay?” asks Tula.
There’s kindness in her voice. I keep my head away and try and stop the tears.
“There’s just water in my eyes,” I say, wiping them with my free hand. Tula stares at me.
“A lot of boys have a hard time. You can talk to me if you want.”
“I’m fine,” I grunt, and then Zinzi squirms from my arms and splashes over to Bengu and he begins to throw both girls and Patrick into the air one by one.
“You sure?” asks Tula.
I’m quiet for a bit but don’t want to lie to her and she knows it wasn’t water in my eyes.
“I had a small sister,” I say. “The little girls make me remember.”
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bsp; Tula puts her arms around my shoulders and gives me a small hug, which makes my legs weak.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That must be hard. Come let’s go sit on the bank for a while.”
I nod and follow her up to the bank. We sit in the shade of a big lala palm on the soft sand. I look at Tula and smile as she settles down close to me.
“Do you like staying here?” I ask. I think she wants me to talk more about Thandi but I’m scared it will make me cry again.
She shrugs in answer, and says, “Sometimes. I miss the city and my friends.”
“Did you go to school in Kinshasa?”
“Hmm.” She nods. There’s a sad look in her eyes. “I was at Boarding School but then Mama says I have to come with them.”
“Oh. Maybe she was missing you?” I say.
“She’s too traditional. I want to go to school in England.”
My heart sinks and I look down. She’s a modern girl with big plans. She’ll never be happy with someone like me.
She sees my distress and smiles. “I don’t always feel like that. Sometimes I’m glad to be here. There’re some good things,” she says, and gives me a big smile.
I’m not sure what she means and mumble, “Maybe when you’re older you can go.”
“Maybe. I want to go to university first. Do you want to go?”
The question takes me by surprise. “Yes,” I say. “If I can get the money.”
“Do you want to study business?”
“Yes, I want to make lots of money.” I see her look impressed and am relieved. It was the right choice. My plans had been to be Commander but now I don’t know. I don’t want any more blood. I don’t want to be that boy again. Her words have made my stomach flutter with excitement and deep inside I hope they can be true but I don’t think this can be possible. I give a shrug. “These are silly dreams. How can I go to university?”
“There’re organizations that’ll pay for you to go to university,” says Tula.
“Really?” I ask with a frown.
She laughs. “My dad says you’ve great potential. He says you’d make a fine doctor. He really likes you.”
“Really? Does he?”
“Yes really.” She laughs again.
“Why does he think I’ll make the good doctor?”
“You’re good at Science and Maths aren’t you?”
“I like them,” I say, and warm inside. I’m surprised. I thought the doctor was just doing his job and that he didn’t care for us. If he thinks I can be a good doctor then maybe he’s right.
“You’re also good at looking after people, Modetse. I feel good when I talk to you,” says Tula with a small smile.
“Do you?” I ask with wide eyes.
Tula laughs. “You calm me when I feel frustrated. I don’t mind being here when I’m with you.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” I say, and my voice breaks. My cheeks grow hot. I think she really does like me. My stomach feels funny inside. She is so confident this girl. She is not like the other girls who are shy and quiet. Ay, this is some girl!
We sit quietly for a while and then Tula turns and looks at me with deep eyes.
“What’s past, is gone, Modetse,” she says. “It’s over.”
“You don’t know what I have done?” I say looking down at the ground and biting my bottom lip.
“I don’t need to know. It can happen to any of us. It could’ve been me if I’d been caught,” says Tula, looking close at me. “They’re the evil ones, not you.”
I look up in shock. She’s right. She would’ve been a Pineapple girl if she’d been caught. The horror of how we treated the girls pricks me and I sit silent and stare at the brown water while she speaks. I know she means the L.R.A. and how they can change the people. The faces of Mobuto, Bilole and the General walk into my mind. I see Mobuto shouting at us, “We are the God Army. You must kill the enemy. Fill the graves. The graves are not yet full. Drink their blood! Kill! Kill!” He is so full with hate. Doctor Zuma and Mama Zuma are so different.
I breathe deep. There is no hate here. They tell us that the L.R.A. is evil and serves the devil and his works. They want to help the child soldiers and chase the devil away. They don’t hate me for what I’ve done. That say it’s not my fault.
Can that be true? If the L.R.A. has lied then I’ve killed people who did not deserve it. I’ve cut off hundreds of hands so that they couldn’t work for the enemy. But if they were good hands then I’ve done a terrible crime. My heart’s black and evil. Fear rises up from my belly that maybe this is really true but then suddenly there are dark shadows around me. They surround me and I go dizzy. Inside my mind I hear myself saying, “No, I was right to kill; I was right. Dr. Zuma is lying. He doesn’t know. The L.R.A. was right. They are right.”
But deep inside my spirit is fighting my words and crying, “No, you are wrong. You are wrong. Jesus is right. Turn to Jesus.”
“I need to be…alone…” I say and my voice breaks. I can feel hot tears pricking behind my eyes. Tula is staring hard at me. I grow hot. She has been watching me while this fight is going on in my spirit. She must see the evil in me or think me weak. I can’t cry in front of her again. I don’t know what to do now or who I am. I don’t want to be a killer anymore but how do I take the blackness from my heart? How do I stop these voices inside my head?
Tula looks at me and squeezes my arm. “Okay. I’m going to dive back into the water,” she says. She gives me a small smile and runs back into the cool water.
I nod and put my head down on my knees trying to chase away these thoughts and stop this confusion. I take in a gulp of air and lean back against the sharp bark of the lala palm enjoying its prick against my skin, which takes my mind away from my own thoughts.
Suddenly the high call of “Boo–o-o-o-o, boo, boo” hits my ears. I turn and look up into the branches of the big guava tree behind me. Big bunches of pale orange fruit fill the spaces between the leaves and I can just make out a brightly colored rainbird behind some of them. I stare at its beauty and watch as it jumps onto another branch and lets out its clear “Boo-o-o-o boo, boo” call again.
My mind jumps to the broken bodies of the ambush and the red blood, which stained the tattered jungle. So much red but not like the red of Christmas. That’s good red and not bad like the blood. I don’t want the bad blood anymore. I don’t want this darkness. But how do I escape it?
My stomach feels sick. I lean forward with my head back on my knees. My stomach climbs to my mouth while thoughts run through my head like mad people. “Kill,” shouts Mobuto. “Don’t kill,” shouts Dr. Zuma. Blood ghosts rise up and shout at me with bloody stumps. “Don’t kill, Modetse, don’t kill. Listen to Dr. Zuma. Listen to Jesus.”
My head explodes. “Yes,” I scream. “I want to listen. I don’t want to kill anymore. Help me please. Help me.”
Then Thandi is there standing on the dump. I reach out for her but she moves away into the mist; far, far away like she is dead. I reach forward but she is gone. I cry out and fear eats my heart.
Maybe this is true? Maybe the spirits are showing me she is no more? Who would have looked after her on the dump? Sipho was gone. Enoch was gone. The big boys and glue sellers wouldn’t help her. She would’ve been all alone. Where would she get the food?
The pain of these thoughts is too deep and I grip my head with my hands. Where can I go if I leave here? I can’t go back and live on the rubbish without Thandi. If she is dead then all I can do is go back to the L.R.A. But my spirit whispers, “No, maybe she’s not dead, don’t give up hope, don’t.” My head spins. I must try and believe that. I must still hope. Maybe Dr. Zuma can help me to look for her.
The thought clears my head but then the blackness comes over me again. No, what’s past is over. I’ve changed too much. I can never be that boy again. I am no more Thandi‘s brother. She will hate me if she sees me now and learns what I have done.
For I long time I just sit and my mind runs round and round. I
look at them in the river. They are laughing, playing. I see Bengu pick up Zinzi and throw her in the air and they both laugh as she lands back in the water. She looks up at him with happy eyes. I was like that once with Thandi. I was a good boy. How did I change like this? What happened to me?
The Rambo movies, the training, Mobuto, Bilole, Nkunda, the General, all rise up again and march through my head. I can see them clear this time. I am standing back from them while they’re shouting and screaming; telling me to kill; to cut off hands; to hate.
I shake my head. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to believe. But deep inside I know I don’t want to be a killer anymore. I can see now the L.R.A., they are evil. Why did I listen to them? Why did I hate? I shake my head at that boy and my mouth fills with water. My body grows numb. What have I done? What am I? My body shivers and my head spins. I am a devil child. Will the magic blood of Jesus still help me? I want it even though it will make me weak.
The sound of splashing breaks my thoughts. I sit up straight and tense. If it is Bengu I will hit him but Tula’s swims over smiling and comes back up to me. My body relaxes.
“You coming back in?”
“Maybe,” I stutter turning red. I curse myself inside for sounding so stupid.
“Can I sit?”
“Of course,” I say, wiping a patch of earth next to me.
She goes over to fetch a blue towel from the side and wraps it around her waist. I stare at the top of her orange swimsuit, which clings to her body. She comes over and smells cool and sweet, and sits so close by that my heart goes funny.
“I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
I nod. “I’m okay.”
We sit while my cheeks grow hot. Tula clears her throat.
“I help at a mission once a week where there’re victims of the L.R.A. Do you want to come?”
Her question makes me freeze. I stare at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“I know it’s hard,” she says. “But it might help and perhaps you could have a taste of what it would mean to be a doctor.”