PUNISHMENT BY DEATH
“Quiet. Jacob, do not make any sound.” The voice was distant.
Jacob tried to open his eyes. He moaned. “Quiet, Jacob, be quiet.”
There was a hand over his mouth. Had he embarrassed himself? Had he had a nightmare? Had he woken up the other boys in the dorm? His head throbbed. He had to sit up. He should ask the school nurse for an Aspirin tablet.
“Jacob.”
That was Tony’s voice. Why was Tony hissing in his ear?
“Jacob, you must wake up.” Another voice. Was it Paul’s? Jacob tried to form Paul’s name but his mouth felt as if he had been chewing on wood.
“Listen to me, Jacob, you must open your eyes. YOU MUST. Please, Jacob.”
Who said that? Who was speaking now? Sunlight. He opened his eyes then snapped them shut. There was clapping. Who was clapping? It was faint at first but it grew louder and louder. Oh, his head! He drew his hands up to his ears. Stop. Stop. His eyelashes were stuck together. He pulled his eyelids apart, but what he saw made no sense. It wasn’t quite daybreak but there was light. Above him, tree branches intertwined. The trees were holding hands and dancing. His tongue was too big for his mouth. Water, he wanted water.
“Walk, Jacob. You must walk.”
Tony and Paul crouched on either side of him. Up, up. He was on his feet but couldn’t feel the ground. No, no, he wanted to lie down. His head lolled from side to side and his knees buckled so he fell back into the dirt. As the dancing trees shivered something black came over him. A cloud? A wave? His memory was broken into bits.
He did not see the boot coming. It missed his ribs and hit his belly. Jacob clutched his middle and moaned.
“He walks on his own or he’s dead.”
With balled-up fists, Jacob rubbed his eyes and watched the green heels of oversized gumboots shuffle away down a path. He slammed his eyes shut.
It wasn’t a nightmare, but it wasn’t real, either. “Jacob, are you all right?”
Was that Ethel? No, Ethel was at home. Again Jacob tried to open his eyes but the sunlight was as sharp as daggers. He saw Paul first. He was dirty, his face smeared with dirt.
“Ohh, ohh.”
Who had said that? He had said that! He was going to vomit.
As soon as Jacob opened his mouth, Tony’s hand covered it.
“Don’t make any sound. They will kill you if you make any noise. Promise?” Tony was hissing in his ear. Promise? Promise what? Tony’s hand was suffocating him.
“Away, away.” Jacob tried to bat Tony’s hand back. Why wouldn’t he take his hand away? Jacob swallowed hard. Breathe, breathe.
“Promise?” Tony hissed in his ear. Jacob nodded.
With each movement a piercing pain shot up his neck—there was fire in his head. Slowly, he turned and looked to one side. A sort of gunnysack and a pole lay on the ground—the kind of thing a sick person might be carried in.
“Where are we? What …?” Jacob gasped for air. Water, he needed water.
“We don’t know. In the bush. We just followed.” Paul’s words were short, as if he was afraid. But of what?
“My head …” Jacob moaned.
“You got hit and we couldn’t wake you up. They were going to kill you. That soldier, the one with the scarred face, he’s mean. They call him Lizard.” Paul was babbling into his ear. “One of the old guys, they call him Commander, asked who you were. I told him your name. He said that you looked fit so they made us carry you. We carried you all night,” hissed Paul.
“Lizard—he’s out for you, Jacob. The commander, the one who said that you should live, he has gone somewhere else. You have to walk on your own, you have to.” Now Tony was talking.
Jacob wanted to reach out, to tell him that they were all happy that he would become a priest. But why were they talking about a lizard? A lizard was a harmless gecko, a useless reptile, a pest that scampered up walls. Jacob couldn’t make sense of it.
“Please, Jacob, don’t let them kill you,” Tony whispered in Jacob’s other ear. Jacob looked up. Elephant tears dribbled down Tony’s face. They ran into the dirt there and created wiggle lines down his cheeks.
There was something shiny drawn on Tony’s forehead. Jacob looked over to Paul. What was that—it was on his forehead too. Jacob’s arm felt like lead but he lifted it and tried to touch the spot on Paul’s head.
“They traced crosses on us with shea nut oil. They said that we are now ‘soldiers of the movement.’ See?” Paul picked up Jacob’s hand and traced the cross drawn on Jacob’s own forehead. Tony was mumbling something, a prayer maybe: “Sweet Jesus, help us in our hour of need.” Jacob snapped back his hand. His fingers were greasy. Tears careened down Tony’s face.
“Stop crying, Tony, stop, stop,” whispered Jacob. If the other boys in school saw him cry he’d get bullied for sure. Jacob looked over to Paul, and then saw Norman sitting on his haunches, wide-eyed and silent. He remembered little Norman who was good in math. They had promised to take care of him. Lights out in the dorm. Sleep. Pounding on the door.
Jacob’s eyes darted from Tony to Paul to Norman and back to Tony. “Where are our teachers?”
“There are no teachers here.” Tony was growing frustrated. He repeated what Paul had just said … hit on the head … dragged through the bush … must walk. Slowly, painfully slowly, Tony’s words registered.
Still confused, Jacob uttered, “Why did they let this happen?”
“Mr. Ojok—we walked past him. He was lying on the ground. Maybe he was dead. We did not see any other teachers.” Paul’s voice was low, raspy, as if he had spent hours cheering at a football match.
“What about the guards?” There were extra guards hired. Father had arranged it.
“They ran away.”
Ethel. Ethel had said that paying the guard was a waste of money. What did she say? Run away … Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army coming down the road. Why couldn’t he think straight?
“Get up. It’s time to march.” A command came down the line.
As Jacob snapped his head back another searing pain shot up his neck.
“I said, get up and march!” The voice was loud and squeaky at the same time—the voice of a boy.
What had Tony called this young rebel? Lizard? With help from Tony and Paul, Jacob staggered up onto two shaky legs.
“You walk on your own or you die.” Lizard stopped shouting and hissed like a snake, “If it were up to me, you would be dead now, but they say that you have value. We shall see.” Lizard stood back, adjusted his gun, and spoke to all the boys within earshot. “Do not help him. He is not your friend. No one is your friend.” He looked at the four boys with disgust. “Soon you will learn.”
A soldier in the distance called out an order. Lizard waved to him, then walked away.
The four staggered on into the bush, walking as if linked by an invisible chain. Paul led their small band, Jacob came next, then Norman, then Tony, at the end. Ahead and behind were the rest of the students of the George Jones Seminary for Boys, all shuffling along, all exhausted and in a state of shock.
As Jacob walked, an image came back to him, a flash of a face. Very tall. Sloped eyes. Wide mouth. The boy from the church. Oteka. Had he dreamed seeing him? What could he be doing here?
Step, step, step. Jacob counted out the number of students. There were thirty-eight in the dorm. His head pounded and his stomach quaked. Step, step, step. Just keep walking. All thirty-eight boys had families that would come after them. His own father would come, he was sure of it. Even now his father was coming. And there were the government soldiers. They would be coming, too. It wouldn’t be long. They just had to stay alive, and do what they were told. It would be all right. Just put one foot in front of the other. Rescue was on the way.