Somehow Hetsbi and Cade ended up guarding the baskets. Hetsbi wasn’t sure how it had happened, but they were told to stand next to Drum and Toppi’s father, Maddux, with the baskets at their feet, and they did what they were told. A dead pahaalusk, its shell cracked and dull, sat motionless between the two men, and Hetsbi couldn’t take his eyes off it, but when he did, he noticed piles of stones nearby, gathered neatly for an unknown purpose. All the boys and men of the village were there, facing them and waiting for the announcement they knew was coming. It was a sea of dark skin, darker hair, and narrowed eyes, all murmuring and shifting.
“My fellow men,” Maddux said. The crowd quieted. “After the death of our menyoro, Drum and I shared the same thought. Each of us wished to humble ourselves and take the menyoro’s place.”
Drum snorted but didn’t interrupt.
“But we could not agree on an arrangement,” said Maddux. “So we’ve come to you.”
The assembled men turned to one another, asking questions in a steady thrum: “What is this about?” “Why have they come to us?” “What answers could we possibly have?”
“As I see it, we must work together to rebuild our lives and land,” Maddux continued. “We must shape our collective knowledge into one mighty force. A village-wide effort, in which your strengths can overcome your neighbor’s weaknesses, and the other way around.”
No one knew what to say. They’d never heard of such a thing.
Hetsbi’s heart thundered. He felt exposed up there, in the front, and didn’t know what his role was. He didn’t want a role. What would he be asked to do? He felt every dark eye on him, even though he knew they were fixated on Maddux and Drum, trying to work out what was happening, just as he was.
“Imagine if we had an excess of food every year and did not have to trade with the north,” Maddux continued.
A voice rose from the crowd: “But we’ve never succeeded in traveling to the north! Our men disappear at sea!”
“Maybe it’s time to end Sailing Day,” Maddux suggested.
Drum now spoke: “End Sailing Day? Admit defeat?”
“It’s not defeat,” Maddux said, over mixed cries of dissent and agreement. “It’s using our resources where they’re most needed.”
Drum scanned the assembly. “I would never cower in the face of challenge.”
The crowd found its energy now, an angry energy.
“Listen, men! Listen!” Maddux said, his voice climbing upward and his hands in the air. “We won’t need Sailing Days if we chart a new course!”
“How?” someone cried.
“We will figure it out, together!” proclaimed Maddux.
The noise swelled until Drum stepped forward and climbed atop the pahaalusk shell. How towering he looked, like a giant. Hetsbi’s stomach turned. He suddenly felt very small, like one of the stones gathered in the mysterious towers in front of them.
“Maddux is wrong,” Drum said. The crowd quieted. “Collective work means collective ruin. There must be one person to lead the village—a man who will demand obedience, skill, and achievement from all people. Even the women. You will do these things because you will be held accountable to me and my son. You will wake up each dawn with a sense of fear and accountability. That is how you build a strong community.” Drum turned to Maddux and pointed a thick finger at him. “This man wants you to lower yourself to the ways of women. Cooperation? Bah! I’ll not force you to your knees.” He turned to the crowd again. “I will force you to rise.”
At this, some of the men nodded and clapped. Others were unmoved, still confused. But all eyes were forward, waiting to hear what would come next.
The process would be simple, Maddux said. Each man would take a small rock and place it in one of two baskets. Hetsbi’s basket represented a vote for Drum. Cade’s basket represented a vote for Maddux. Once all the men had cast their stones, each one would be counted. The count would happen in front of the crowd to prevent dishonesty. Hetsbi and Cade would make sure no one cheated.
The boys and men did as they were told. For the next hour there was no sound except for the clack, clack, clack of rock against rock as each man cast his vote.
Hetsbi’s basket started to fill. He imagined Drum hovering over him, demanding he get up and serve his purpose. What would a man like that do with a boy like him?
Drum and Maddux observed the casting of stones quietly. Drum crossed his meaty arms across his chest and stood like a massive pillar, with Kul behind him. Maddux’s face was slack and observant.
Clack, clack, went the stones.
Taiting, the boys’ teacher, was the last to vote. He placed a rock in Cade’s basket.
“Now we count the stones,” said Maddux. “Thank you, men, for—”
“We aren’t finished!” Drum boomed. He pointed at Hetsbi and Cade. “These two have not yet cast their stones.”
Drum pulled two small stones from his own pocket and shoved one at Hetsbi and one at Cade.
Cade didn’t hesitate. His stone went to Maddux. Clack.
Hetsbi felt like he was swallowing the stone instead of holding it. It might as well have been a boulder.
“Well?” Drum said.
All eyes were on Hetsbi.
It felt that way, at least.
Cade’s basket was only three steps away.
But Hetsbi couldn’t move.
Those eyes. Drum’s eyes.
He dropped the rock into the basket at his feet.
Clack.