by Nancy Burkey
Michael turned to his brother. “I’m going out to talk with Japera. Give me about ten minutes, then come out. I want to see what he sees, how sound travels, where the worst parts are. Say you’re looking for something you think you dropped, make something up. Then go over to that tree and back to our room. Go behind the huts, like you’re searching. Go as quietly as you can.
“Got it.”
Paul let out a deep sigh. “Come in and wake me when the change of shift happens. Tell them you’re checking on my leg. Then go back to your hut and wait for me to get to the stove before you move in. I’ll be walking very slowly, painfully. Don’t let it fool you, it’s part of the show. And Michael…” He waited until Michael had turned back to face him. “If you can’t figure out how to get there, there’s no other plan.”
CHAPTER 21
Katura stood stirring the pot of vegetable soup. It needed to cook down some but had turned out pretty well considering the limited ingredients she had to work with. She’d found a few spices Thabani must have brought in after visiting his mother. She took another sip and set down the ladle. She turned to wait in the living room, then jumped.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Changa stood leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, chewing on a stick.
“Want to try some?” She dipped the ladle. “It’s not quite ready, probably another half-hour.”
“That might just be enough time.”
“Time?”
He smiled.
Her heart started beating faster. “You know, it’s great you’re back early. I have a load of laundry and I can take it down while the soup—”
He grabbed her around her waist and spit out the stick. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She squirmed but couldn’t get out of his grip. He was moving her down the hall toward the bedroom. She could smell beer on him—a strong smell, like it was coming out of his pores. He grabbed both her arms and clenched her wrists together, holding them in one hand behind her back. She didn’t like the way it forced her breasts out. She hunched her shoulders forward. He pushed her onto the bed, still holding her arms. She began to kick, but he flung one of his legs over her and pinned her down.
“You like it rough? Well, I’ve got news for you. I like it rough, too. So we should do just fine.”
She forced herself to relax—made it feel like gravity was just pulling her down through the bed, every muscle limp. Then she turned and looked at him.
“Actually, you’re not so rough—not compared to Zuka.”
“What? You’re not Zuka’s.”
She smiled. “Ask him yourself.”
He released her and staggered off the bed. “Look, he doesn’t need to know about this. I was only playing, wouldn’t have touched you. You know that, right?”
He was out the door before she could respond.
CHAPTER 22
Michael cupped his hands to his mouth and called across the yard.
“We’ll find it in the morning, when it’s light out.”
“Hope so,” Jake called back. He searched the porch outside their hut one last time before turning in.
Japera barely acknowledged Michael’s presence several feet away, even though they sat on the same table, facing the huts. Michael looked at the gap between his hut and Paul’s. Jake had dashed across, as quickly and quietly as possible. But the movement was eye-catching. There was no way he could sneak between the two structures and not be seen by Zuka, who would be sitting where he now sat. Wouldn’t work.
There had to be alternatives. If he could sneak farther back behind his own hut, somehow forging through the brush before cutting across to the west and reemerging on the other side. . . But that meant entering what he referred to as no-man’s land. If Zuka happened to get up and walk around the back, there were no trees—no cover of any kind. Nor was Zuka the only threat. Wildlife came out at night, some of it predatory.
What if Jake went into Tommy’s hut first, came from that direction and pulled Zuka’s attention more toward the northwest? With the moon in the east, it was darker on that side of camp. Zuka would have to strain to see Jake and might naturally turn his body away from the gap between the huts.
Michael let out a deep sigh. It was hard to predict. Zuka’s characteristic nonchalance could result in his barely turning his head toward Jake. Yet lately, since Thabani’s death, Zuka seemed a little jumpier, not like he startled easily, just more vigilant, more focused.
How about the other direction? If Jake could find an excuse to come toward Zuka from the east, the bright moon in his eyes might keep him from seeing movement to his left. Of course, if a cloud moved across the sky, blocking the moon’s light…
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. His head hurt. He glanced over at Japera. Lost in thought too? Or suspicious of Michael’s silence.
“Nice night,” Michael said.
Japera nodded, letting out a barely audible grunt. He glanced up at the moon, then went back to just staring off into space. They hadn’t spoken since Thabani’s death. Michael struggled with what to say, how to approach him. Even if this mission were successful in getting his brother released, what would it mean for Japera to return to his family now that his cousin was dead?
“I’m sorry about Thabani,” Michael said.
Japera kept his head straight and the muscles in his neck tightened, but Michael could see his eyes were darting about, not focused on anything specific, almost frantic. Then the darting stopped, and he nodded.
“Thanks.”
Michael waited for more. It was the middle of the night, quiet except for the occasional sounds of some animal scavenging in the distance. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Japera, probably not more than four years older than himself. He sat guarding. Guarding what? People too injured or lost to go anywhere anyway? Waiting for something from the outside to happen? They had no information about what was going on or when they were likely to know—both acutely aware that within their small camp it was getting increasingly dangerous, for both of them. Yet Japera held a gun. It lay across his lap, the barrel resting away from Michael. Would this guy really ever pull the trigger? It was incomprehensible to Michael. He’d sat many a night talking with him, about school, family, siblings, the usual stuff. He liked hearing about Botswana, about Japera’s hopes for his future, not unlike his own. At times he forgot all about the rifle.
“Were you close?” It seemed like a lame question, but he couldn’t think of a better entry. They shared a common experience. Zuka had killed Michael’s stepfather and now Japera’s cousin. Didn’t that make them partly on the same side?
He looked at Japera with renewed hope. This was it. His father’s words were never more applicable. Trust can’t be demanded, only earned. Paul’s job had been to distract their captors, to keep them away from the river for Rick and Baruti’s escape. Sure, he’d pulled their attention initially but he hadn’t finished the job, and the ultimate result spoke for itself. Why should he put his faith in Paul? Let alone trust him with his and Jake’s lives.
“Japera.” Michael got up and started to pace. “I was thinking about Thabani—”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Japera wouldn’t look at Michael.
“I understand, I really do.” He tried to think ahead, to explain his plan. Where was he going with this? What he really wanted was Japera’s help, but that seemed ludicrous. “I mean, it wasn’t really about Thabani. Not directly. I just thought that if we—”
“No, Michael.”
“No?” Michael moved in front of Japera, trying to force eye contact. “No? You haven’t even heard what I have to say. I just thought that we—”
“No. There is no we, Michael. We are not the same. We doesn’t exist.” Japera stared at him now, stared directly into his eyes, but he didn’t feel seen.
Michael stepped back, the whole scene seemed out of focus, unreal. Something about Japera, the way he looked at him. Like he was already dead
. Was that it? Japera’s seen his cousin killed, Rick, Baruti, none of it matters? He doesn’t expect any of us to make it? No, this doesn’t make sense.
“But it could.” Michael looked down at the rifle.
“It’s not that simple.” Japera’s hands shifted on the gun. “You’d better get inside.” It was the first time Japera had ever spoken to him like a hostage. The first time he’d pulled rank. Michael didn’t move.
“Why not? He’s nothing to you. And what makes you think he’s going to do anything to help your brother?”
“It’s not safe.” Japera stood up. He held the rifle loosely at his side. “Get inside, Michael. We’re not having this discussion.”
He heard a noise from the workers’ hut. Zuka was awake. Michael backed up slowly. He turned to face Paul’s hut, stood staring at it for a moment. He took in a deep breath.
“I’m checking on Paul, see how his leg’s doing.” He started across the grounds, then remembered Jake. He needed to re-route his course, to draw Zuka away from being able to see him head for the tree later.
“No, I’ll check with Jake first, make sure he’s asleep. Then I’ll check in on Paul.” This wasn’t sounding right. The pounding in his head was getting worse. He was messing up. He turned back to Japera, who seemed to be watching him intently.
Michael stared down at the ground several minutes before he looked up. He shook his head. “You’re just not who I thought you were, Japera. My mistake.”
“Michael—”
Zuka came down the steps. Michael didn’t take his eyes off Japera, who just stood without moving or saying anything.
“Yeah, my mistake.” Michael turned and walked slowly up the stairs to his hut.
“Think about it,” Michael said, “the guy hasn’t gotten much sleep. He’ll be easily distracted.”
“I don’t know, it sounds really dangerous.” Jake was sitting up in his bunk, legs stretched out under the covers. “I’ll have no way of signaling you if it’s safe to cross. He’s totally trigger-happy and if he sees you sneaking around…”
“Hey, this was your idea in the first place.”
“It was Paul’s idea.” Jake was always a stickler for details.
“You agreed with him.”
“I changed my mind. It’s obviously not going to work. I was in plain view and you’re bigger than I am.”
“You stumbled. I won’t.”
“You saw me before I stumbled.”
Michael glanced over at his mother, who had barely stirred when he walked in. Her eyes were closed, but she didn’t seem to be asleep.
“All you have to do is get him to look anywhere but toward that gap.”
“Then after you’ve crossed—and, by the way, I’ll have no way of knowing when that is—I have to get him to look precisely in that same direction. No problem.” Jake’s jaw was set. He wasn’t budging. “Are you nuts?”
Michael scooted up onto Jake’s bunk and leaned against the wall. “Okay, let’s figure out a signal, certain words you can say that’ll mean it’s clear or not.”
“Like a script, because I’m so good at that and anyway, what could go wrong? If there’s a problem, the only thing that could happen is—oh, I don’t know, my brother gets killed?”
“Come on, help me out here.” He tucked his legs under the covers, and his feet touched Jake’s for a moment. “Jesus, you’re hot. You catch something from Paul?” Maybe it was the light, but Jake looked pale. He leaned over to feel his forehead. Jake pulled away.
“I’m not up on germ theory, Michael, but I don’t think wounds are contagious. I just feel a little sick to my stomach—probably too much of that mushy stuff, sadza or whatever it is.” His eyes looked unfocused, glossed over.
“Are you going to throw up?” Michael hopped off the bunk and grabbed the plastic bag they’d used for dirty laundry. He dumped the clothes out on the floor.
“Don’t talk about it, I’ll be fine. I have a splitting headache.”
“Jake, if you’re going to puke, take this—”
“I said, don’t talk about it.” He held his head. Just then his stomach made a spastic motion. He grabbed the bag. Michael put one hand on his back, the other on his forehead.
“Get as much out as you can.” He shot a glance at his mother. She hadn’t moved. “Maybe those anti-malarial pills are making you sick.”
Jake shook his head, his face still in the bag.
“It could be a delayed reaction.”
Jake picked up one of the dirty shirts and wiped his mouth. “I’m not taking them.”
“What?”
“I’ve been giving them to Paul for his infection. Can’t hurt.”
Michael wanted to slap him. Anti-malarials weren’t going to do anything for whatever bug was eating Paul’s leg.
“Jake, you idiot—”
Jake threw up a second time, this time with more force.
Jane was out of bed and at his side. Michael moved out of her way. She felt Jake’s head.
“What else hurts?”
Jake just stared at her, then looked at Michael.
“Have you been coughing?” she said.
He shook his head, then groaned. His eyes stayed fixed ahead.
“Joint pain?”
He nodded.
Michael shifted on the bunk. “Mom, I’ve laid out his pills every day. I just assumed he took them.”
“It’s probably not malaria—something else. Get him water, a lot.”
“But—”
“Every hour. Jake, I don’t care if you have to get up every twenty minutes to pee, you’re going to drink constantly.”
“But it hurts to walk, I’m sore...” His voice faded under her stare.
She turned to Michael. “And I want it boiled, which means you’re going to have to have water on the stove almost all the time. Keep it coming. Make sure he takes three of my adult dose anti-malarials every day for three days, then he can return to his usual dose.” She walked over to the window and moved the curtain slightly to look out front.
“But I thought you said it wasn’t—”
“In case I’m wrong.” She closed the curtain and walked into the bathroom. They heard the water running for quite a while but were afraid to speak, afraid anything they did might put her back into her previous state. When she reemerged she looked different. Her hair was combed out and fell neatly over her shoulders. It was longer than she usually kept it, flowed in waves down her back. She’d changed into clean clothes, a white tank top and khaki shorts. The boys exchanged glances.
“I was going to get Paul and—”
“Let him sleep.” She peered out the window again.
“But we had a plan.”
She turned and glared at him.
“Right.” He nodded. “You have your own plan.”
It was then that he noticed what it was about her. What struck him as different, as if she weren’t his mother, the woman he had known all his life. It was her eyes. They were stone cold. They were missing the life, the joy, the spontaneity he’d always taken for granted. Her face was hard granite. He didn’t know the woman who walked out of their hut.
CHAPTER 23
Zuka slammed his fist down on the table next to her. “What are you trying to get at?”
Jane smiled—she finally had his attention. “You know exactly what I’m saying.” She spoke calmly, conversationally, as if her comments were not meant to be provocative, just factual. “You know this is nuts. There’s no way it’s going to work.”
The water started to boil. She glanced over at the stove and stood up slowly, shaking her head.
“You think you know so much.” He turned away from her.
She could lose him again. He was getting agitated, his eyes darting around the empty camp. She couldn’t play tug-of-war alone—it was crucial that he not lay down his end of the rope and walk away. She caught his eye and smiled. He glared back at her.
“Your government will respond.”
> She was clearly annoying him, but he couldn’t resist.
“Really? These things actually work out, do they?” She stared straight into his eyes and laughed.
He was silent, eyes shooting daggers from only a few feet away.
“That’s what I thought. You’re good, you know, it was almost believable.” She poured a small amount of boiling water into a bottle, secured the lid, and shook it before pouring out the contents on the ground. It was the best she could do at sterilization. When she glanced back up he was looking toward Japera’s hut. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s got a lot of reasons not to figure this out. He needs it to be this way.”
“I didn’t say I was worried.” He leaned back, gazed at her with his eyelids at half-mast, as if he weren’t trying to see her clearly.
But she knew better, she could feel the tension of his focus, the purposefulness behind his feigned nonchalance. She forced herself to tune in to him, to gauge his uncertainty. It required that she ignore everything she felt about him. She compartmentalized her gaze.
It was his hands that finally freed her thinking, brought her to another place, a more dangerous place. They were smaller, looked softer than she would have imagined. As he spoke his fingers caressed his neck. She watched as they moved gently across his smooth dark skin, pulling her in. When Zuka noticed her watching, he froze, then he looked away.
“You know how I figured it out?” She waited for his return. It took a moment, but when he looked back at her his eyes were on her body. “I was thinking, you just don’t see a lot of governments rolling over under threat of hurting a few of their citizens who venture off to foreign countries. If that’s all it took, this kind of thing would happen a lot more often, right? And that’s when it struck me.”
She turned and poured the rest of the water into the bottle before replacing the lid. She took her time, allowed him to watch her on his own terms. “Either you’re really stupid. . .” She cocked her head back, licked her bottom lip slowly, and smiled. “Or this is about something else.”
Zuka drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table. She watched his movements carefully and then allowed her eyes to move up to his arms, his chiseled biceps. They seemed to tighten ever so slightly with each respiration, making the definition of each muscle more pronounced. Her gaze moved across his chest, broader than a young man’s. He was older than she’d originally thought.