Chapter 4: The Pact

Chapter 4

When the evening horn sounded, Lumani tried to hurry toward the cooking shed, but then he remembered Malanga might be watching him.

He slowed.

It was hard to walk at a normal pace when every part of him wanted to run.

Kamau was just inside the doorway, repairing a split wooden bowl.

“That bowl has been dying for a month,” Mama Leki called from the cooking pot.

“And I have been saving it for a month,” Kamau said. “We all have our callings.”

“Your calling is stubbornness.”

“My calling is patience,” Kamau said. “Ask the bowl.”

“The bowl agrees with me,” Mama Leki said.

He looked up as Lumani entered and stopped beside him.

From the look of it, Kamau could tell something was wrong. He set the bowl aside.

“Are you hurt?”

Lumani shook his head.

“Jabari?”

“No. His ankle, a little. But that’s not—”

Kamau put his hand on Lumani’s arm.

“Breathe first.”

From beside the cooking pot, Mama Leki glanced toward them. She handed her spoon to Lumani and came over.

Lumani lowered his voice.

“I think the mud moved.”

Kamau’s hand tightened.

“Where?”

“In the work pit. Malanga was going to whip Jabari, and I think I made it move.”

“Did he see?”

Lumani nodded.

Kamau looked past him through the doorway.

“Did he follow you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Think carefully.”

Lumani thought for a moment.

“I didn’t see him.”

Mama Leki shifted a stool away from the doorway.

“Sit here.”

Lumani sat. Kamau crouched in front of him, keeping his voice low.

“Tell me from the beginning.”

Lumani told them about the silver flakes, Malanga’s questions, and Jabari dropping his tray. When he reached the whip, his chest tightened again.

“He did not hit him. I thought he was going to.”

Kamau nodded once.

“And then?”

“The ground pushed up. Only a little. Other people did not see it.”

“By other people, you mean…?”

“Other workers.”

“Just your row?”

“Yes! Only Ayo, Jabari and Kofi were close enough to see it.”

Kamau lowered his eyes.

Lumani waited for him to speak. The silence was worse than being scolded.

“Is Malanga going to tell someone?”

“I don’t know,” Kamau said.

“Will they take me?”

Mama Leki sat beside him.

“Look at me.”

Lumani did.

“Has anyone come for you?”

“No.”

“Then we have this moment. Let us use it.”

She put a bowl into his hands.

He stared at the stew.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Hold it anyway.”

The bowl was warm. Lumani curled his fingers around it, trying to make his hands stop shaking.

Kamau rose and checked the doorway again.

“What are you going to do?” Lumani asked.

“Find out whether Malanga has spoken to the other guards.”

“How?”

“Carefully.”

“And me?”

“You stay close to Mama Leki.”

Lumani’s grip tightened around the bowl.

“That’s always what you say.”

Kamau turned back.

“I know.”

“But you still won’t tell me anything.”

Two of the younger children chased each other through the shed, laughing, and Mama Leki waited until they had passed.

Lumani swallowed.

“Last night you said we had to understand it. You understand something. Both of you do.”

Kamau sat down again.

“Some things.”

“Then tell me some things.”

Mama Leki looked at Kamau. The older man rubbed the heel of his hand across his mouth.

“You’re right.”

Lumani had been ready to argue. He did not know what to do with that.

“I thought I could give you more time,” Kamau said. “Time to grow before you had to carry this.”

“Carry what?”

Kamau glanced toward the children gathering around the pot.

“I cannot explain everything here.”

Lumani looked away.

“But I can begin,” Kamau said.

Before Lumani could ask another question, voices rushed toward the shed.

“I am telling you, his whole face changed,” Jabari said loudly.

“Lower your voice,” Ayo said.

“And then the mud went—” Jabari continued.

Ayo pushed through the doorway first. Jabari limped behind her, talking with both hands. Kofi followed so closely that he nearly stepped on Jabari’s heel.

Ayo looked around the shed, then pulled the door shut behind them.

Jabari spotted Lumani.

“There he is.”

He crossed the room and dropped onto the ground beside him.

“The boy who scared Malanga without even touching him.”

Mama Leki looked up from the pot. “Your ankle. Come here.”

Jabari groaned but limped to her. She unwrapped the cloth, laid a few dried leaves against the swelling, and bound it fresh. A sharp green smell rose between them.

“Smells like the drying mats,” Kofi said.

“Then it is working,” Mama Leki said.

“That was amazing,” Jabari continued, raising his voice.

“Say it louder,” Ayo said. “The guards in the next camp may not have heard you.”

Jabari lowered his voice, but not his excitement. Then he turned to Lumani.

“You should have seen Malanga’s face.”

“I did see it,” Lumani said. “I was there.”

“He looked like the mud had called him by his full name.”

Kofi crouched in front of Lumani’s stool. His eyes were wide.

“Did you tell it to move?”

“No.”

“Did you think it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you do it again?”

“No,” Kamau said.

The sharpness of his answer quieted them.

Kamau remained near the doorway.

“What exactly did you see?”

Jabari jumped to his feet.

“The ground rose this high.”

He held his hand near his waist.

“It did not,” Ayo said. “It barely reached Malanga’s ankle.”

“It looked higher from where I was standing.”

“You were lying in the mud.”

“I had an excellent view.”

Kofi pressed his bare foot against the packed-earth floor.

“I felt it.”

Kamau looked at him. “Felt what?”

“A humming.” Kofi rubbed his toes against the ground. “Like when I hum with my mouth closed, except it came through my feet.”

Lumani looked down at the bowl in his hands. The silver flakes had buzzed against his skin in almost the same way.

Ayo moved closer.

“The mud did not slide by itself,” she said. “It moved between Malanga and Jabari.”

Everyone looked at Lumani.

“I didn’t tell it where to go.”

“But you wanted Malanga to stop,” Ayo said.

Lumani nodded.

Jabari’s grin faded. For a moment, he looked older than fourteen.

“You protected me.”

“The whip was coming down.”

“I know.”

Jabari glanced at Kamau and Mama Leki, then quickly looked away.

“So now we are even.”

“Even?”

“You saved me today. I saved you when a guard asked about your empty tray.”

“You dropped all your bricks, so I saved you.”

“It was a sacrifice.”

“It was mostly mud.”

“My point remains.”

Kofi leaned closer to Lumani.

“I knew there was something strange about you.”

“It was the eyes,” Jabari said. “The eyes were a strong clue.”

Lumani groaned. “I liked both of you better when you were frightened.”

Ayo did not laugh.

The small warmth in the group disappeared.

Kamau crouched in front of them.

“Did any of you speak about it outside this shed?”

“No,” Ayo answered.

Kofi shook his head.

Jabari placed a hand over his chest. “I can keep a secret.”

Ayo looked at him.

“So can I,” Jabari insisted. “I simply prefer not to.”

Mama Leki took three bowls from beside the pot and placed one in each child’s hands.

“What happened in that pit stays here,” she said.

Jabari’s expression became serious.

“Yes, Mama.”

Ayo nodded.

Kofi looked down at his stew. “What if somebody asks us?”

“Then you saw wet ground collapse beneath a guard’s heavy boots,” Kamau said.

“But that isn’t what happened,” Kofi replied.

“No,” Kamau said. “It is what keeps Lumani safe.”

Kofi looked at Lumani.

Then he nodded.

Mama Leki pointed toward an open space near the wall.

“Sit. Eat. And stop gathering around him as if he has grown a second head.”

Kofi carried his bowl away.

“He hasn’t,” he whispered to Jabari.

“Not yet,” Jabari whispered back.

Ayo pushed both of them toward the wall.

Lumani watched his friends settle together. Their excitement had not disappeared. They kept glancing at him between spoonfuls, full of questions they were trying very hard not to ask.

Kamau sat beside Lumani again.

“You trust them?” he asked quietly.

“With my life.”

Kamau studied the three children.

“Good.”

Kamau rose and checked the doorway one last time.

“Tomorrow Malanga will be watching your row,” he said. “All of you. Heads down. Mouths shut.”

He looked at Lumani.

“Whatever happened in that pit today, we cannot afford it twice.”