Orange for the Sunsets

by Tina Athaide

  “There you are, you filthy Indian,” shouted Akello.

  No, he wouldn’t catch her. A broad plank of wood lay in her path. She jumped onto it to widen the distance between them.

  CRACK!

  Her right foot broke through the thin wooden board and she fell.

  Down. Down. Down. Nothing beneath her feet but air. Her arms knocked against the rocky sides and her bracelet snapped.

  She hit the ground hard.

  Everything went black.

  48

  Yesofu

  YESOFU HAD SKIPPED school today at Lake Victoria Primary so he could see Asha. He turned the corner onto her road and pedaled faster. Nearly all the houses had signs in front. FOR SALE. Windows and doors were boarded up. He continued around the hedge of oleander, up Asha’s driveway. He hopped off his bike and ran to the door. He lifted his hand to knock and hesitated, trying to work out what to say. He’d have to just come right out and tell her what happened, how he’d told Akello. She wouldn’t understand, but he owed her the truth.

  Yesofu took a deep breath and knocked. He waited. Nobody answered. Yesofu knocked again, this time a little louder. He counted the seconds in his head . . . one . . . two . . . three. He got to ten and there was still no answer. Where was she? Yesofu heard scuffling. An African boy, maybe four or five, stood at the end of Asha’s driveway. It was strange seeing him in this neighborhood. But with the Indians leaving, Amin’s soldiers had started taking the vacant houses and moving in. “Have you seen the girl who lives here?”

  The boy stepped closer. “She took off on her bike.”

  “Do you know where?”

  The boy nodded. “To see her friend. She showed me her bracelet.”

  Asha had never been to Katabi before. Not once in the entire time they’d been friends. He always spent time in her world. Not the other way around. But today, she was coming to see him, and he wanted to be there to show her his house and the makeshift cricket field. His thoughts screeched to a stop. What if Akello was home? What if he saw Asha? Yesofu climbed onto his bike, his heart racing even before he set off.

  No. No. No. Please don’t let Akello be there. Yesofu pedaled faster, his world spinning as fast as the chain on his bike. The army roadblocks had increased but they only stopped Indians, waving the Africans to continue through. Yesofu pedaled through the roadblocks, avoiding eye contact with the soldiers.

  He had to get home before Akello found Asha.

  49

  Asha

  ASHA WOKE TO the coldness of the hard ground seeping through her tunic. Her ribs throbbed. Her head pounded. She lay still and took short, quick breaths. A circle of light glowed at the top of the well and bits of torn cloud raced across a hazy deep blue. From the colors in the sky, she guessed it was close to six or seven. Mama would be back from Kampala with the travel papers, wondering where she was. But the last place that Mama’d ever think to look would be Katabi.

  Asha rolled onto her side and sat up. She felt dizzy. Not the whirling, wobbly kind when you spin around too fast, but the kind that sends the sky swooping beneath your feet, making everything upside down. She collapsed against the rounded rock wall and lay there for a few minutes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. She tried again and slowly got to her feet. Her fingers traced the holes and crevices on the surrounding walls. Some were just big enough to use as steps. She dug her foot into one of the hollows, and then another. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she kept moving, slowly inching upward. She kicked at the wall to find a place for her foot. There wasn’t any. This was as far as she could climb. Asha’s heart pounded and her knees wobbled. “Help!”

  The rock wobbled beneath her fingers. Asha lunged to grab a thick root sticking out of the wall. Snap. She fell. Craaack! Her shoulder slammed into the bottom of the pit. She gasped to catch a breath, wincing from the pain. As she lay on the ground, she wondered if it had been a mistake coming here. No. She needed to see Yesofu. Ting. She strained her ears and listened. Ting. Ting. Her bicycle bell. A rock was jammed inside so when you pulled the lever with your finger the bell made a sharp clang. She’d know that sound anywhere.

  Ting. Ting. Ting.

  She heard feet scuffing far above, and then voices. Her heart thumped faster, giving her the strength to sit up. She leaned against the wall. Muffled voices became louder and clearer until they sounded like they were directly on top of her. Asha wrapped her arm around her aching ribs, took a deep breath, and lifted her head toward the light. “Help!” Her voice echoed in the dark. She heard scuffling and then two heads appeared. “Get Yesofu or Esi!”

  Another voice in the distance shouted . . . an older voice. Fara? No, it sounded deeper. Esi? Feet clapped against the hard ground. The voice was closer now.

  “Go. Get out of here!” Akello shouted.

  Asha shrank back against the wall of the well.

  “There’s someone down there,” said one of the boys.

  “Get lost.” Akello’s voice had an edge to it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Panic rose in Asha like waves.

  “We saw her,” the boys said in unison.

  “You calling me a liar?” Akello said, daring them to challenge him.

  “But she’ll . . .”

  Die. Asha finished the sentence for him. She’d die. She’d never see Mama, Papa, or Teelu again. And what about Yesofu . . . Asha remembered Papa’s words. You’re my brave girl. She straightened, breathing through the pain in her ribs. “You know I’m down here!” she shouted. “Get Yesofu!”

  “Shut up!” threatened Akello. “Or I’ll cover the well opening.”

  “Help!” Asha screamed.

  Bang! A tin sheet slammed over the opening, plunging Asha into darkness. She slid to the ground. Her heart pounded so hard, each beat hurt.

  50

  Yesofu

  YESOFU WENT TO the makeshift cricket pitch to throw the ball around. He needed to clear his head, but it didn’t work—he kept looking at the road, hoping to spot Asha. Where was she? Maybe she got tired of waiting and left. The thing was, if she’d ridden home, they’d have passed each other. There was only one road into Katabi. It didn’t make sense. Yesofu wrapped his fingers around the ball and pulled back his arm.

  Ting. Ting.

  Yesofu froze. Where did he know that from?

  Ting. Ting. Ting.

  No. He strained his ears and listened.

  Ting. Ting.

  It was louder this time. Yesofu felt his insides buzz with the same feeling he got when he unleashed the perfect spin on a ball. It was the bell on Asha’s bike. A rock had jammed inside so the lever stuck halfway when you pulled it with your finger.

  Ting. Ting. Ting.

  Yesofu took off running. “Asha!” He ran up the hill and skidded to a stop. Then he spotted a bike lying next to the old well. Wemusa and his friends stood nearby. Yesofu picked up the bike and pulled the lever on the bell. Ting. Ting. Definitely Asha’s. He could still see the broken end of the stick jammed inside from when they’d tried to poke out the rock.

  “Wemusa!” Yesofu called out. “Where’d you get this bike?”

  “It’s your friend’s. She left it when Akello started chasing her.”

  “What’s going on?” Akello approached. His eyes locked onto Asha’s bike and then slowly, like a cobra slithering, they shifted onto Yesofu.

  Yesofu felt the fight coursing through his veins. “Where is she?”

  Akello’s voice lowered to a threat. “Who?”

  “You know who. Asha.” Yesofu lunged and tackled Akello to the ground.

  “Get off me,” snarled Akello.

  “What have you done to her?” Yesofu punched Akello in the jaw. He and Akello struggled on the ground, slamming their fists into one another, rolling in a cloud of red dust. Suddenly Salim and Yasid were there, pulling him and Akello apart.

  “Stop.” Yasid looked back and forth between Yesofu and Akello. “What’s going on?”

  “H-h-he�
��s done s-s-something to Asha.” Yesofu gasped for air. His ribs hurt so much it was hard to talk and breathe at the same time.

  Akello wiped the blood on his mouth with the back of his hand. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “Liar!” Yesofu swung at Akello, but Yasid held him back. “You better not have hurt her or—”

  “Or what?” Akello growled. He spat in the dirt, turned, and walked away with Salim.

  Yasid put his hand on Yesofu’s shoulder, but he shook him off. “What if we can’t find her? I have no idea where she is . . .”

  Yesofu. His name was barely more than a whisper. “Shhhh. Did you hear that?”

  Yasid nodded. “Where’s it coming from?”

  Yesofu.

  “The well!” they both said at the same time.

  Yesofu reached the old well first. The planks usually covering the opening were broken and tossed to the side. Someone had dragged a tin sheet and covered the opening. With Yasid’s help, Yesofu pulled it off and looked down. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then he saw her.

  “Asha!”

  51

  Asha

  ASHA SAT UP, unsure if what she was hearing was real. The tin sheet covering the opening of the well moved and was gradually pulled off. A trickle of pebbles and dirt skittered down. Asha looked up. The sky had blurred from deep blue to midnight black, and the stars, tiny pinpricks of light, covered the sky.

  “Mambo. Are you there?” a muffled voice hissed into the darkness.

  “Yes.” Asha looked up, searching the narrow shaft. She saw a figure over the edge of the well, silhouetted by the moon. “Yesofu?” Her voice shook with relief.

  “Yes. Sawa?”

  “I’m okay,” she said. “My arm hurts. And my side.”

  “I’m going to get help,” said Yesofu. “It’s late. Mamma and Baba should be home.”

  “No!” Asha cried. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

  “I have to,” said Yesofu.

  The sound of his voice was the first bit of hope she’d had in hours. “Please.”

  “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  “Wait!” Asha called out. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ve been selfish . . . only worried about myself. I’m sorry for never asking about you. For never coming here before today. Really sorry.”

  Feet pounded, moving away, gradually growing quieter and quieter. Yesofu had gone. Asha was alone again, with only the sounds of the cicadas for company. The moon had turned the deep, dark sides of the well into crags of shadows and light. She lifted her head and gasped as pain—like a knife jabbing her—shot through her body. She dropped back against the ground. Hold on, Asha. The edges of the moon blurred, growing smaller and smaller like a kaleidoscope closing, and then there was nothing.

  “Over here!” a voice called.

  There was clanking and rustling as hurried feet approached.

  “I’ve got the torch and ropes.”

  “Baba has gone to Asha’s house.”

  Asha knew these voices. Yesofu, back like he’d promised. And he’d brought Esi and Fara with him. A head appeared at the top of the well, and suddenly the dark pit came to life with a yellowish glow. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re going to get you out,” Yesofu called. “Esi is climbing down.”

  “Be careful,” said Fara. “She could have a concussion or broken bones.”

  Asha’s entire body shivered with pain, but her shoulder was the worst. Keep your eyes on Esi. He’s here now. Everything will be okay, she repeated to herself over and over. Thwack. Esi’s feet hit the ground. He crouched next to her and placed his hand—hot and sweaty from the ropes—against her forehead. “How’s my shetani . . . ready to get out?”

  Little devil. Esi’s nickname for her. Asha managed a weak smile.

  “They are sending down a board to lift you out.” Esi stared at her, his eyes anxious and worried.

  A big shadow covered the light. Bits of rock and dirt crumbled as the board knocked against the sides of the well. Esi reached up and grabbed the board. He lowered it to the ground and laid it flat.

  “I’m going to slide the board under you.”

  Asha nodded. Esi gently lifted her shoulder. Even that slight movement tore a scream from her throat.

  “What’s going on?” Fara and Yesofu called.

  “I think her arm is broken or something,” replied Esi.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Asha pumped herself up as she would before a carrom tournament. “You can do this.” She took a deep breath, and then nodded. “Go ahead, Esi. And if . . . if I scream again, just ignore me.”

  Esi leaned over Asha. “Keep your eyes on me. Now take a deep breath.”

  Asha filled her lungs with air. In one swift movement, Esi thrust his arms under her, scooped her up, and set her down upon the board. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. He leaned over to tie ropes around her legs, torso, and forehead, then looked up. “Pull!”

  The board creaked under her weight, but Asha felt it rise up.

  “I’m going to climb up alongside you,” said Esi.

  Asha could hear pulling . . . groaning . . . squeaking coming from above. The board banged against the wall and a stabbing pain shot up Asha’s arm.

  “You’re almost there,” said Esi.

  The board moved upward, closer and closer to the opening, with Esi holding it steady. Air brushed against her face and neck. She’d be free soon.

  “Keep pulling,” a voice called out.

  Faces . . . many of them . . . stared at her from above, but she locked onto Yesofu and he held her gaze. The board moved up and up. She slid as the board tipped slightly before straightening and sliding into the open.

  “We’ve got her!” Yesofu cried out.

  Relief turned Asha limp. She was safe. Yesofu had saved her. “Thank you.”

  Yesofu grabbed her hand. “I can’t believe you came here.”

  “I had to—”

  Yesofu got a funny look on his face that was hard to read. Her relief reflected in his face? Gratitude? Or was it something else?

  “I’m so sorry, Asha.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  A siren screamed in the distance. Fara appeared by Yesofu’s side. “They’ll be here any minute. Let me cover her.” Fara set a blanket over Asha and pressed her lips against her forehead. The lights from the ambulance shined closer. Asha closed her eyes. Lying in the well all those hours with nothing but her thoughts, she realized she was right—it was time to let go . . . of Entebbe and of Yesofu. She’d be leaving soon. To a new life. To a new country. She could no longer think of Entebbe as home. And Yesofu should focus on his life, his friends.

  Yesofu intertwined his fingers with Asha’s.

  She opened her eyes and squeezed his hand.

  3 Days

  52

  Yesofu

  YESOFU PEERED OVER the top of the hibiscus shrub surrounding the patio. Asha was in her room, sitting up in bed. Her one arm was tied in a sling. The doctor had set her dislocated shoulder after she’d been pulled from the well and taken to the hospital.

  “What are you waiting for?” Esi shouted. He sat on his scooter at the bottom of the hill outside the Grade A hospital. “Hurry up!”

  Yesofu waved his hand to shush up his brother. He couldn’t just barge into Asha’s room. He definitely did not want to run into Sister Masani again. But then, Asha looked over, smiled, and waved. Yesofu stepped up to climb over the rail and stopped. If he kept his mouth shut, she’d leave and never know the truth. He bit his lip, thinking what to do. Asha leaned forward, looking at him. But he’d always know. He patted his pocket, making sure the surprise he’d brought her was still inside. Then he leapt over the railing onto the patio and slipped into her room.

  “Habari,” said Asha. “What are you doing here?”

  “I got Esi to give me a ride.” He shot a quick glance into the corridor.


  “You’re okay,” said Asha. “Mama went home and Sister Masani’s at her desk.”

  Yesofu looked at Asha as he dragged a chair closer to the bed. Of course, she could still tell what he was thinking. He gripped the sides of the chair so tightly that the skin pulled over his knuckles. He had so much he needed to tell her.

  “Yesofu,” Asha said suddenly.

  “Asha,” Yesofu said at the same time.

  They looked at one another and laughed.

  “You first,” said Yesofu.

  “I wasn’t sure I’d see you before we leave,” said Asha. “That’s why I went to Katabi. I didn’t count on running into Akello—”

  Yesofu shifted and the chair legs scraped on the tile. “I can’t believe he did that. Leaving you in that well . . . that was—”

  “But you saved me. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Forget Akello.”

  Yesofu looked at Asha smiling at him. He wished he could forget Akello.

  Asha stared at him. “What’s going on?”

  He had to tell her even if it meant she’d hate him.

  “It’s my fault your papa was arrested,” said Yesofu. “I told Akello.”

  53

  Asha

  HIS WORDS CRASHED down upon Asha. Her heart raced so fast it felt like it would rush right out of her chest. Images flashed in her head—Akello inside the soldier’s jeep. The smug look on his face.

  “I’m so sorry.” Yesofu looked at Asha. “I never thought that he’d—”

  “What?” Anger gripped Asha and wouldn’t let go. “What, Yesofu? You never thought that Akello would figure out it was Papa? That he’d tell? That the soldiers would come to my house and take Papa away?”

  “I didn’t do it to hurt you or get your dad arrested.”

  “Then why?” Despite the heat, Asha rubbed the goose bumps on her arm. “We’re supposed to be friends.”

  “No matter what you think, I never stopped being your friend.”