14

CEN—EVIL SPIRITS

Oteka did not appear to look up as he prepared food. Instead he seemed to busy himself with the chicken carcasses, matooke steaming in a pot over a fire alongside pancake bread and pots of vegetables. But he was watching. From a distance he took note of Jacob staggering around like a lamero.

“Angut!” Oteka cursed under his breath. Jacob was sobbing uncontrollably. Had the soldiers not had their fill of killing this day, Jacob would have been dead by now, no matter what Kony had ordered. It was Jacob’s good fortune that their minds were on other things.

Behind Jacob came Paul. He raced into the village, his eyes darting in every direction. Paul spotted Oteka standing by a makeshift table near the fire. Where is he? Where is Jacob? Paul spoke with his eyes.

Oteka motioned with his head. There, he seemed to say. He’s over there.

Norman followed, his eyes filled with fear. Then came the women, children, and slaves, all straggling into the village.

Oteka expertly drained the blood from the chickens, dipped the carcasses into hot water, then began the business of plucking the feathers. Several stringy chickens, giblets removed, were ready for the fire. Small children were gathered near him, all starving, all silently watching him. Girls looked at Oteka in wonder. Men did not cook, even if they were hungry.

Oteka flung two more chickens into the fire, then looked across the compound. Lizard was eating a mango. The skin of the fruit was held tight against his mouth, and juice dribbled down his chin. His small eyes were glued on Jacob.

“Angut!” Oteka repeated as he shook his head. The behavior of Jacob and his friends was dangerous. From the moment Oteka was captured he had watched, learned, and thought only of survival and escape. All else was forgotten. Forgetting was the key, something Jacob and his friends could not learn, or refused to learn. If Oteka thought of what it was to go to school, have parents and brothers and sisters, or make plans for the future, he knew he would go mad and behave as Jacob was behaving right at this minute.

Oteka looked down at the children who sat silently watching him, their eyes as round as coins, their mouths agape like little birds in a nest. He scanned the village quickly then flung uncooked strips of chicken skin toward the smaller children. They gobbled it down in seconds, leaving no greasy telltale signs.

While the chickens roasted over the fire a soldier held up a large wind-up radio and laughed. He turned a knob and the radio crackled to life. A cheer went up! Soldiers sitting farther away moved in close to hear the news. All the soldiers—the new ones and the older ones—and the girls and slaves, too, leaned in to listen.

Paul and Norman had managed to make Jacob sit still behind a hut. He was not completely out of sight, but it was the best they could do.

“Jacob, are you fine?” whispered Paul. Jacob nodded but did not look either boy in the eye. Slowly he was returning to himself. “Norman, stay with Jacob.” As always, Paul spoke under his breath. “I will get closer and listen to the news on radio.” Paul went off, while Norman, still trembling, snuggled closer to Jacob.

The radio sputtered and popped, shooting out words like electrical sparks. A deep, unwavering voice proclaimed the news of Kitgum and Gulu—who had taken a wife, who had given birth. The announcer read off the names of those who had died recently. Eddie, a tough soldier with slanted eyes, a flattened nose, and pale streaks across his cheeks, heard his father’s name. His father was dead. Eddie put his scarred face in his hands and sobbed.

Then there was a message from the government for Kony. Jacob emerged from his fog and leaned forward. They were not terribly close to the radio but both boys could hear well enough.

The World Court in a place called The Hague had declared Kony a great enemy of the people. All the students of George Jones cocked their heads like confused dogs. What was a world court? How would this help them? Not one knew what a hague was, but many soldiers cheered anyway. Their leader was famous all over the world! And then the radio announcer said that there was a message for the students of the George Jones Seminary for Boys.

The students—and the soldiers, too—snapped to attention. There was a pronounced intake of breath all around. All the students looked like cats ready to pounce. Jacob looked around. Where was Tony? There, sitting near the fire, crouched down on his haunches and nestled up against his gun. Listen, Tony, listen.

“To the students of the George Jones Seminary for Boys, our prayers are with you,” said the voice on the radio. Jacob’s heart began to pound.

Then … nothing.

That was it? That was all? An involuntary sob seemed to spring from Norman’s mouth as Jacob crumpled back to the ground.

The soldiers slapped their knees and laughed. Tony, trailing the butt of his gun in the dirt, walked toward Jacob and hovered above him. Jacob looked up at his friend’s face. Tony was almost unrecognizable. Blue rings circled his eyes and his voice was low and raspy, not the sound of Tony at all. And when he spoke a white tongue was visible.

“You see? We are the enemy now,” hissed Tony. “Our school—they do not want us back. You think that you can go home? You cannot. None of us can go home again. We have cen in us now—evil spirits.” Tony’s mouth curved into a sneer, although tears pooled in his eyes. “You think that if you do not kill they will take you back? They will not believe you. They will treat you like a murderer. Even your father. If you walk down a street they will run from you. They will put us all in jail and we will die there.” Tony leaned down toward Jacob. His hands, his arms, and his legs quivered. “You are not a rich boy any longer. This is where we live now. We are rebel soldiers. We are LRA. We are killing for God, for the Acholi people, for Uganda. We have been forgotten.”

Tony turned and walked away.

“Tony, no. Come back.” Jacob called after him. But Tony did not turn around. Instead he walked toward the middle of the village. A soldier, sitting under the owii tree, passed Tony a bottle of soda stolen that day from the back of a truck. Tony popped off the cap with his teeth and sat.

“To the students of George Jones Seminary for Boys, our prayers are with you.” Jacob mouthed the words then wiped his face, covered his ears with his hands, and nestled into the exposed roots of a sweet-smelling jackfruit tree. Nothing hurt as much as this, nothing. Not the beatings. Not the hunger. Not the thirst, or the pain of his rotting feet.

“Did you hear that?” Paul dropped down onto his knees. He was happy. Elated even. “What’s wrong? Jacob, this is good news!”

Paul looked to Norman, who shrugged. “Did we hear what? We just heard that people are praying for us,” said Norman.

Paul looked confused. “No, after that. Right after that. The announcer said that children who have been abducted into the rebel army need not fear arrest. Did you hear that, Jacob? Amnesty!” Paul crouched low. “The man on the radio said that if abducted children in Kony’s army can get home, we will not be prosecuted. The soldiers will not shoot at us if we are unarmed. We can go home! Jacob, Jacob!” Paul looked confused.

Jacob said nothing, just stared at the ground.

“Do not give up, Jacob, do not.” Paul looked around.

What to do?

Paul motioned to Norman to come closer, and then he whispered, “There is a river in New York called Hudson but no one goes to it with their buckets. Water comes out of taps in the wall. Many Americans live in apartments in the sky, many floors up. I do not know why they say floors when the apartments have walls and ceilings, too. And Jacob, there are thousands and thousands of buildings that rise as high as a plane flies, and the buildings are lit up with lights, day and night. They keep the electricity on when no one is around. Jacob? Jacob?”

Jacob mopped his face with the back of his hand. America? Could there be such a place? Jacob looked at Paul. He was trying so hard to be brave but he looked so scared. Norman looked worse. Norman’s mouth quivered; his whole body trembled. Jacob had let them down. How could he have been such a fool?

“Norman, it’s all right now. I am fine.” Jacob tried to smile.

Eyes wide and hopeful, Norman nodded.

Jacob sighed. A truth had been building up inside him for a long time. And then, as with all revelations, it arrived in a flash. He looked from Norman to Paul and over to where Tony sat. The boys from the school were scattered about. He looked from one to the other. No one was coming to save them. His father could not save them. The government soldiers could not, or would not, save them. A certain resolve settled into his heart.

“We have to save ourselves,” Jacob whispered. No one heard, not even Paul. “We will save ourselves.”