Arrows, Bones and Stones Page 7

  Two big rocks at either end of the yard designated the goalposts, but with so few players, there were no goaltenders. The children yelled and screamed, running and kicking the ball whenever it came close to them. While each of the kids showed great skill, Charlie couldn’t help but pay closer attention to one boy. The ball flew across the yard whenever his bare foot connected with it, and his skill in snatching it from the other boys and girls was uncanny.

  The boy paused at the end of the yard while he held the ball with his foot. He glanced at Charlie, then kicked the ball. It landed right at Charlie’s feet. The boy gave him a quick smile.

  “Gweye! Gweye!” the children yelled. They jumped up and down with their arms flying in the air.

  Charlie stared at the ball.

  “You have the speed and the cunning of the jackal, Charlie.”

  “Eeh? You think so? But I must be like the jackal. We cannot let Christopher team win again. It go to his head, and it is already puffed up with so much pride. One more goal and then we can go.”

  “Gweye! Here! Pass it to me!” The boy clapped his hands against his thighs. “You will be happy you kick it to me. I will make the goal. Watch.” He stared at Charlie and waited.

  Charlie tossed the ball into the field and ran. He jumped in front of a boy dribbling the ball down the center and lunged. He took control of the ball and passed it between his legs, then ran in the opposite direction, dribbling the ball and keeping his eye on the goalie and the small space between him and the posts.

  The men yelled, their deep voices rumbling like a war drum. “Go, Charlie! That is it! Go!” The women waved their scarves in the air as Charlie ran closer to the goal. He shifted his weight to one side and aimed his foot. The goalie moved to the right. Charlie hopped to the left and kicked the ball. It took the goalie by surprise. He rushed to the left, but it was too late. The ball sailed through the air, past the post, and into the surrounding bush. The field erupted in a loud celebration of clapping and shouting. The women called out, their voices rising like a chorus of songbirds. Charlie’s teammates ran to him and lifted him into the air and shouted. “The Jackal! The Jackal! The cunning Jackal!”

  Charlie ran to his mother and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It was a good game, eeh, Maa?”

  His mother laughed. “Yes, it was a good game, Charlie. But you should be gone by now. It is getting dark already. Here, take this.” She pressed a blanket, and a small loaf of bread wrapped in brown paper, into his hands. “I will see you in the morning. Go.”

  “We will play again tomorrow, and you will wave your scarf again and again. Yes, Maa?”

  “Yes, now go. You know it is not safe for you to be here at night. Kony could be watching us right now.”

  A flash of fire flew over their heads and landed on the grass roof of their hut. The roof burst into flames. Instantly, the air filled with screams of panic and confusion. Then came the sound of the guns. A shower of bullets riddled the ground near their feet, sending clouds of dust into the air. Charlie’s maa grabbed his hand and ran toward the bush. A soldier stepped out of the trees and aimed his gun at them. He shook his head and smirked. Charlie’s maa stopped and turned. They ran toward the field.

  Charlie’s dad ran toward him, his arms outstretched, ready to lift him up.

  “Charlie! Margaret! Come!”

  Then his father stopped. His eyes widened and emptied of all life. He fell to the ground. The back of his shirt, ripped with bullet holes, turned crimson. Charlie stared down at his dad. He could not move. His body, his mind, were numb. Charlie’s maa grabbed his hand and ran.

  “Please.” The boy’s enthusiasm was replaced with a hesitant smile. “Please.”

  Charlie stared at the ball, his eyes vacant and unseeing. He walked away.

  “I have to go,” Fire said quickly. She kissed Maisha on his forehead and ran toward Charlie as he headed down the pathway. She rushed past him and stopped him in his tracks. He stared into the trees.

  “Charlie? Charlie, are you okay?”

  He brushed past her and continued on his way.

  Fire stepped in front of him again. “Stop. You must tell me. What happened?”

  He turned and looked at her; the images momentarily swept away. “And what must I tell you? Why would I want to say in word what I see in my head? Is it not enough that the picture are there, in my head, to see again and again? One time to see it is enough. To tell you would only make it real. No, I do not want to tell you.”

  “Yes. Once is enough.” She placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder, then let it fall. Turning, she led the way. “Let us go,” she said, quickening her pace. “We are late late.”

  They walked along the pathway until they came to the open field near the school. It was completely deserted.

  They crossed the field, passed the school, and drew into the bush that lined the edge of the building, keeping themselves covered in the dense foliage. Fire stopped and listened. The faint sound of people talking in a classroom could be heard. She crept up to an open window and looked inside. She motioned to Charlie as she climbed onto the window ledge and hopped into the classroom. He followed.

  Thirty teenage boys and men, ranging in age from about twelve to twenty, crouched in a circle, while a teenager sat in the middle and drew on the floor using a piece of chalk. Michael Jackson, Peter, Naboth, and Jonasan glanced at Charlie and Fire, then returned their attention to the center. Charlie and Fire walked to the edge and glanced down. Crude lines and Xs marked out an attack plan.

  “You are here, Charlie.” The teen rose, wiped the chalk onto his pants leg, and extended his hand.

  Charlie caught his breath. He glanced at the teen and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. But the boy’s face brought back a horrid memory. It hit Charlie full force: mismatched flesh, brown and pink scars where there should have been a nose, jagged flaps of skin where there should have been lips.

  “Hello, Charlie. I am Opio Ben.” His voice was nasal and distorted. “I want to ask you how you and your family are, as is our tradition, but as of late I am afraid to do this. It only remind me of our loss. So I will ask you, Charlie. How are you?”

  Charlie raised his head and looked at Ben once again. His breath caught in his throat, squeezing his lungs. He gasped for air. He shook.

  “Come here, boy. Come and show the lady how sharp the machet is. Show her the damage it can do.”

  Charlie covered his ears. “No!”

  He pushed his way through the group and rushed to the door. He ran across the field and into the bush, hearing Fire’s footfalls close behind him. He stopped and collapsed on the jungle floor. His breaths were short and quick. His eyes opened wider and wider until he stared unblinking into the forest, glancing from tree to tree and from sky to ground.

  He hugged his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth.

  “I am here, Charlie. I am right here,” Fire said, kneeling down beside him.

  Acama took the machete from Charlie and walked toward the woman.

  “Do not cry or scream, woman. Or you will be killed right away.”

  The woman knelt on the ground and turned to see a commander standing behind her swinging a machete from side to side. Her body shook.

  Fire wrapped her arms around Charlie and held him close to her. They rocked back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm.

  “Noooo,” he moaned.

  The boy swung the machete down and sliced the woman’s lips from her mouth. Blood poured down her chin and throat, darkening her dress. Tears filled her eyes and overflowed, falling down her cheeks. Her mouth quivered as she stifled the screams that threatened to escape from her throat. The boy stepped back and surveyed his work. He studied the woman’s ears; with one fluid motion, he sliced off one ear and then the other. He wiped the machete clean on his pants and returned it to Charlie. He stood beside the commander, who nodded his approval.

  “Go,” the commander said to the woman. “Go and show the other. Tell them if
they do not speak the truth or hear the truth, then we will cut their lip and ear off, too.”

  The woman stood and held her hands to her lips; blood dripped from her fingers and fell to the ground. She turned and stumbled, then slowly walked away.

  Charlie blinked, then stared into the bush.

  “I do not want to see that again,” he said.

  Fire shifted her position and faced him. She rested one hand on his shoulder and lifted his chin with the other. She looked at his face and held his hands in hers.

  “No. You should not have seen it. It should not have happened.” Fire held him in a firm embrace.

  The sound of footfalls came closer. A hand pushed aside the bush, and Jonasan and Ben stepped forward.

  “How is he?” Ben whispered, bending down on his knees.

  “I do not know. He is young. They have done terrible horror to him. And there is nothing my magic can do. It is the ajiji. The vision have entered his spirit and have a strong hold on him.”

  Charlie looked past Ben and Jonasan, lost again in the images in his mind.

  “We need your help, Charlie,” said Ben. “You know how to use the gun. We are farm people. We have held the plow, not the gun. If we are going to fight back, we need you to help. Ojone. Please.”

  “He himself is in need of help, Ben. He cannot do what you ask.”

  Ben nodded and stood. His shoulders dropped as he sighed. He walked into the bush. Jonasan followed.

  Charlie rested his head on Fire’s chest as she hummed. A lone bird perched at the top of a thorn tree and called out into the jungle. Its mate flew down with a twig in its beak and wove it around the edges of a tree branch. It stretched its neck and ruffled its feathers, sending a chorus of notes into the canopy. The pair flew off, over the treetops and out of sight, then returned moments later with twigs and long blades of grass. They wove the branches into the beginnings of their nest and flew away to collect some more.

  Fire continued to hum until the tune took on words and became a song.

  “Take the stone from the heart,

  take them from the mind.

  Lift them from the hand that saw mercy denied,

  then fill the heart and fill the mind with forgiveness overflowing.

  Let the hand feel the earth once more,

  and see the seed of sowing.”

  The song ended and they sat in silence.

  Charlie took in a shuddering breath and let out a long sigh.

  “I need to go back to the school,” he said, standing. “I can show everyone how to hold the gun and change the magazine. I am good at that.”

  Chapter 12

  An army of sheep led by a lion

  can defeat an army of lions led by a sheep.

  ~ Ghanaian proverb

  They stared at Charlie when he reentered the classroom.

  “Let us get back to the task at hand, Arrow Boy,” Ben said, finding his spot on the floor again. Charlie took his place on the outside of the circle. Fire inched in closely beside him, while Jonasan stood on his other side.

  “Our scout have told me that Kony has sent many of his soldier into different direction. Some of the group have headed northeast into the Kitgum district, some south to Apac, and there are even report that a group of thirty is entering the Congo right now. One scout sent word that a group of twenty has made it way south toward our area, but we have not heard any more.

  “I think it is wise to assume that the LRA could be coming closer to us and could attack any day now. But since Charlie has led us to their cache and we have the gun, our strategy can change. We will still rely on surprising the LRA, but now we can use their own weapon against them.

  “If this information is true, the LRA will follow the tip of the Ka-Achwa River until it end near to all the Gu-rock.” Ben used a piece of chalk to draw a line on the ground to represent the river. He drew a round shape at the base of the line to show where the rocks were positioned. “This is the best place to attack,” he said, pointing to the rock. “They will be weary from traveling through the bush and will still be far enough away from our village that they will not expect anything, and of course the rock will provide good cover. We will set up the post here, here, and here,” he said, marking the spots on the floor with an X. “Connor, I want you and all your boy here,” he said, pointing to the first X. “It is the place where Mr. Erebu field backs onto the river. If my memory serves me correct, there is a large treed area near the back of the property that will be perfect for you to hide. And your group can go here, Emora.” He indicated the second X. “Right near to the place Mr. Olela used to keep his bull. You have more experience with the arrow and the club. And here,” he said pointing to the last X, “is where I want your group to go, Jonasan. Near to the old orange grove.”

  Jonasan rubbed his chin and nodded.

  “This way we have them surrounded on all three side. As for me, I think this is good. Yes?” Ben stood and wiped the chalk on his pant legs.

  The group nodded.

  Charlie stared at the markings on the floor and imagined the plan coming to life. If he had still been in the LRA and was part of this battle, he would have had no hope. And neither would any other kid who had been forced to hold an AK-47 and shoot or be killed.

  He cleared his throat. His words came out slow and shaky. “But what about all of the kid?” he asked. “The kid in the LRA. They do not want to kill. They only do it because they have no choice. You must know that.”

  The group was silent.

  “We will try not to shoot at the kid, Charlie,” Ben said. “We know that some of our own kid from here may be in the group. But that is all we can do. We have tried to bring the kid out of the bush, driving down the road, calling out to them from a megaphone, telling them we will protect them. We have even gone on the radio, hoping they will hear our message that their parent are missing them and want them back.”

  “I know you have. I have heard those message. But they do no good when you know if you try to escape you will be tortured and killed.”

  “Then tell us, Charlie. Tell us what we need to do.”

  Charlie paused. “We need to be smart. Smart like Waswa when he tricked Sesota. The trouble is you are attacking the snake from the front and side. That is where the youngest of the children are. The one that are most afraid, because if they do not stay standing and shooting when the bullet are flying, they will be shot from behind by their own commander. If you want to kill the snake, you have to go for it tail. That is where the commander are. Kill all the commander in the rear, then the children will not fear for their life and will lay down their gun.”

  Each member of the group nodded. Jonasan smiled.

  “It might work. It is worth a try.” Ben passed the piece of chalk to Charlie. “Show us where we should attack, then.”

  “It is the same as what you have here, but change this,” he said, erasing the X from the top of the drawing, “to this.” He made another X near the end of the river.

  “But we will have to sneak up from behind.”

  “Yes. But that is the only way.”

  “Then that is what we will do. I want each leader from the subgroup to meet me here tonight, and every night when the moon crest above the tree just. We will set out when I get more word on where the LRA is heading.” Ben placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Apwoyo matek, Charlie,” he said. He walked to the window and jumped out.

  “We are going to need more instruction with the use of the gun, Charlie,” Jonasan said. About fifteen boys stood behind Jonasan—Michael Jackson, Peter, and Naboth among them.

  “Yes, let us get started,” Charlie said.

  The boys jumped out of the window and headed into the bush. By the time Charlie and Fire reached the group, everyone was standing and waiting beside the pile of guns.

  Michael Jackson hurried over to Charlie and Fire. “The boy we found have told their name. My maa know their tribe and think they are from Kitgum. She is taking them to the ref
ugee camp so she can find someone to bring them home. That is good good, yes?”

  Charlie smiled.

  “Yes, that is good good,” Fire said. “I am happy to hear this news.”

  “I am glad we found them,” Michael Jackson said. “They are only ka-boy. What would Kony want with small small children? He is stupid, this Kony. Stupid stupid.”

  Jonasan walked up to the group and placed a rifle into Charlie’s hands. “Let us get started. It will be turning dark soon, and I want to be ready. I want to chop off the snake tail.”

  Charlie stared at the gun, looking from one end to the other. He felt its weight, then hoisted the gun strap over his shoulder, holding it straight from his waist. It felt heavy and cold.

  “In the army, we were told that our gun was our best friend, and when you are out in the bush it is true true.” Charlie swept the end of the gun back and forth. “When you have a gun, you have power. But you must have total respect for your gun. If you do not look after it, it will not look after you. Do not drop it, do not dirtin’ it, and keep it with you at all time. No matter what.

  “When we were in the front attacking the UPDF, we walked like this just.” He swept his gun back and forth while pretending to hold the trigger. “The gun is fast and many bullet come out.”

  Each boy stared intently at Charlie and the gun.

  “Sometime there would be twenty of us in a line, bearing down on the UPDF, coming up to their defense, and we would keep on coming just while they sent their bullet at us. Sometime kid would get hit—some would die, some would live. That is how it work in the bush.

  “But that will not work here. If you want to shoot at the commander, you must be more accurate and not waste the bullet. We do not have many. First, you must switch the gun from the automatic fire to the single shot.” He flicked a small lever on the side of the gun. “Now you will be able to shoot the one bullet. But to have the good aim, you must hold the gun like this.” Charlie hoisted the strap around his neck and held the gun with his right hand.