— This was not so bad, Achak. This was not so much to walk to reach Ethiopia. Do you think? Now that we are so close, it was not so bad, was it?
We were close but all was getting worse. We did not reach Ethiopia that day, and we did not reach Ethiopia the next. We slept all times of day and night, because now we were barely walking; our feet were leaden, our arms feeling disconnected. The wound on my leg was infected and I had no friends but William K. No one else wanted to be near me, especially after the vulture. After an early-morning nap I had woken up to a shadow blocking my vision, blocking out the sun. I first thought I was in trouble with Dut, that I had overslept and was about to be kicked awake. But then the figure raised his arms suddenly and turned its head, and I knew it to be a vulture. It hopped onto my good leg and began inspecting my bad leg. I leapt back and the vulture squawked and jumped forward again, toward me. He had no fear of me.
This became a problem for all the boys. If we stayed in one place too long, the vultures would become more interested. Sleeping for more than an hour in the sun was sure to bring carrion birds, and we had to be vigilant, lest the birds begin to feast while we were alive.
It was this day, after I chased off the bird who wanted to eat me, that William K began to look different. There were marks on his face, circular designs in a lighter tone than his skin. He complained of cramps and dizziness but then again, I also had cramps and dizziness. William K continued to talk and because he continued to talk I figured he was as strong as any of us.
— Look, William K said.
I followed William K's finger to a dark lump ahead of us. A vulture flew away from it as they approached. It was the body of a boy, a bit older than us.
— Dumb, said William K.
I told him not to talk about the dead in this way.
— But it is dumb! To come so far and to die here.
Now there were bodies all along the trails. Boys, babies, women, men. Every mile we would see bodies, of boys and men, under trees, just off the path. Soon the bodies were wearing SPLA uniforms.
— How can a soldier die like this? William K asked Dut.
— He was not wise about his water, Dut said.
— How close are we, Dut?
— We're getting there. We're close to being close.
— Good, good. The word close is a good word.
We walked that day, through the most desolate land we'd crossed yet, and the heat grew in surges. Before noon the air was like something with skin or hair. The sun was our enemy. But all the while, my own dreams of the splendor of Ethiopia increased in vividness and detail. In Ethiopia I would have my own bed, like the bed the chief of Marial Bai had, stuffed with straw and with a blanket made from the skin of a gazelle. In Ethiopia there would be hospitals and markets where all foods were sold. Lemon candies! We would be nursed back to our former weights, and wouldn't have to walk each day; on some days we would not have to do anything at all. Chairs!
We would have chairs in Ethiopia. I would sit on a chair, and I would listen to the radio, because in Ethiopia there would be radios under all the trees. Milk and eggs-there would be plenty of these foods, and plenty of meat, and nuts and stew. There would be clean water where we could bathe, and there would be wells for each home, each full of cool water to drink. Such cool water! We would have to wait before drinking it, because of its coolness. I would have a new family in Ethiopia, with a mother and father who would bring me close and call me son.
Up ahead we saw a group of men sitting under the shade of a small heglig tree. There were eleven men, sitting in two circles, one within the other. As we got closer, we saw that two of the three men were very ill. One appeared to be dead.
— Is he dead? William K asked.
The man closest to William K lunged at him, hitting him in the chest with the back of his large bony hand.
— You will be too unless you keep walking!
The man's yellowed eyes shook with rage. The other soldiers ignored us.
— What happened to him? William K asked.
— Go away, mumbled the soldier. William persisted.-Was he shot?
The man glared at him.-Show some respect, you ungrateful bug! We're fighting for you!
— I am grateful, William K protested. The man snorted.
— Please believe me, William K said.
The man softened, and after a moment, believed that William was sincere.
— Where are you from, Red Army? he asked.
— Marial Bai.
The man's face relaxed.
— I'm from Chak Chak! What's your name?
— William Kenyang.
— Aha, I thought I would know your clan. I know Thiit Kenyang Kon, who must be your uncle.
— He is my uncle. Have you seen him?
— No, no. I wish I had news for you, but I've been gone longer than you. You're not far now. A few days more and you're in Ethiopia. We just came from there.
We sat with the soldiers for some time, and some of the boys were cheered by seeing them, but their presence was troubling. The men had guns and were part of a unit called The Fist, which to me sounded very capable. But then, the men of The Fist were starving, dying. What kind of place were we going to, if grown men with guns had left there and were starving on their way back to Sudan?
The dead soldier disturbed me more than any death of any boy along the way, and when my belief in our journey wavered my steps became reluctant and slow.
In the mirror of William K, I did not look well that day. My cheeks were sunken, my eyes ringed in blue. My tongue was white, my hipbones were visible through my shorts. My throat felt lined with wood and grass. Attempting to swallow caused enormous pain. Boys were walking with their hands on their throats, trying to massage moisture into them. I was quiet and we continued to walk. The afternoon was a very slow one. We could not walk at a pace near to what we had when the walk began. We were covering so little ground. This day, William K asked to stop frequently.
— Just to stop and stand for a moment, he said.
And we would stop and William would lean on me, resting his hand on my shoulder. He would take three breaths and say he was ready again. We did not want to fall behind.
— I feel so heavy, Achak. Do you feel heavy this way?
— I do. I do, William. Everyone does.
The afternoon cooled and the air was easier to breathe. Word came down the line that someone had found the carcass of a dik-dik. They had chased away the vultures and they were trying to find some edible meat on the bones of the animal.
— I need to rest again, William K whispered.-We should sit for a while. I did not agree that we should sit, but William K was already making his way to a tree, and soon was sitting beneath it, his head against the trunk.
— We need to walk, I said.
William K closed his eyes.-We need to rest. Rest with me, Achak.
— They've found a dik-dik.
— That sounds good.
He looked up to me and smiled.
— We need to get some of the meat. It'll be gone in seconds, William.
I watched as William K's eyes flickered, his eyelids closing slowly.
— Soon, he said.-But sit for a second. This is helping me. Please. I stood above him, giving him shade, allowing him a few moments of peace, and then said it was time to go.
— It's not time, he said.
— The meat will be gone.
— You get some. Can you get some and bring it back to me? God forgive me, I thought this was a good idea.
— I'll come back, I said.
— Good, he said.
— Keep your eyes open, I said.