I went about trying to recover. What could I do? I had to take the invitation, now dust, and somehow reconstruct it. I would make fun of myself. Could I act as if I had been kidding? Would they believe that for a moment?
The end of the semester was upon us, and with it final exams. When school let out there would be a month without school, and if I did not salvage the situation, I would not see them until school began again in the spring. I found the youngest, Yar, under a tree, reading her textbook.
— Hello Yar, I said.
She said nothing. She stared at me as if I'd stolen her lunch.
— Do you know where your sisters are?
Without a word, she pointed to Agar, who was walking toward us. I straightened myself and presented her a smile that begged forgiveness.
— I shouldn't have said no, I said.-I wanted to go to lunch.
— Then why did you say no? Agar said.
— Because…
As we spoke, as I hesitated, Agum joined us. And under that sort of pressure, I had a blessed and fortuitous thought. In a week of obsession I could not come up with a suitable excuse but here, in a desperate moment, I came up with the perfect solution.
— I was concerned about what your mother would think of me. Now Agar and Agum were interested.
— What do you mean?
— I'm from the Dinka Malual Giernyang. I don't speak your dialect. My customs are different. I wasn't sure if your mother would accept me.
— Oh! Agar said.
— For a while, Agum said, — we thought you were brain-damaged. Agar and Agum and even Yar shared a giggle that offered ample evidence that the two of them had discussed me and my mental state at great length.
— Don't worry about being Dinka-Malual, Agum said.-She won't care where you're from. She'll like you.
Then Agar whispered something urgently into Agum's ear. Agar corrected herself.-But just to be safe, maybe we won't tell her you're Dinka-Malual.
There was another moment of whispering.
— And we'll tell her you're from Block 2, not from the unaccompanied minors' group.
I stood quiet for a second.
— Is that okay? Agar asked.
I could not have cared less. I only cared that my gambit was working. I had played the victim a bit, pretending that as a Dinka-Malual, I felt inferior, unworthy of their company. And it had worked. They were able to feel generous in accepting me, and I appeared all the more honorable for having refused in the first place. I congratulated my brain for its success under pressure. Still, I could not seem overanxious. I had to remain cautious, aware of the risks involved.
— That's best, I said, nodding gravely.-What about your uncle?
— He works late, they said.-He won't be home until dinner. At that moment, the two older girls seemed suddenly to take notice anew of the youngest, Yar, and they looked upon her like a thorn stuck to their collective heel.
— You won't say anything, Yar.
The little girl, her eyes narrowed, gave them a defiant stare.
— Nothing, Yar. Or else you won't sleep in peace again. We'll move your bed into the river while you're dreaming. You'll wake up surrounded by crocodiles.
Yar's round little face was still defiant, though now fringed with fear. Agar stepped closer, throwing a crisp shadow over Yar's tiny body. The smallest sister's consent came out in a whimper.-I won't.
Agar turned her attention back to me.
— We'll meet you at the coordination center after school.
I knew the place. It was where the kids who didn't have to march loitered between classes and after school. At the coordination center, I would be among the kids with parents, those whose parents were in the camp-the wealthier children, the sons and daughters of teachers and soldiers and commanders.
When classes ended, I ran home. Once there, I realized I had no reason to be home. I paused a moment in the shelter, wondering if there was anything I could do. I changed into my other, light-blue, shirt, and ran to the coordination center.
— Why did you change? Agar said.-I like your other shirt better. I cursed myself.
— I like this one better, Agum said.
Already they were fighting over me! It was bliss.
— You ready? Agum asked.
— To eat lunch? I asked.
— Yes, to eat lunch, she said.-You sure you're okay?
I nodded. I nodded vigorously, because I was indeed ready to eat. But first we had to walk through the camp, and this was-I knew it before it began and it fulfilled every expectation, every fear and dream I had concocted over three months of planning-the most extraordinary walk I have ever undertaken.
So we walked. There were two Royal Nieces on my left, two on my right. I was between these highly regarded sisters, and we were walking to their home. Yes, the camp took notice. It is safe to say that everyone in my class died of envy and shock. With every step, as we passed through one block and then another, more boys and girls gaped at our procession, which was obviously, to them, some kind of date, something significant, far more than a casual stroll. It was a parade, a procession, a statement: The Royal Girls of Pinyudo were proud to have me with them, and this was fascinating to all. Who is that? the parade-watchers wondered. Who is that with the Royal Sisters of Pinyudo?
It was me, Achak Deng. Successful with ladies.
I glanced at Moses, whose eyes, William K would have been happy to know, burst from his face. I grinned and suppressed a laugh. I was loving it all, but at the same time I was a jumble, my body an assemblage of unfamiliar parts. I was forgetting how to walk. I almost tripped on a hose, and then found myself thinking too much about my feet and legs. I was lifting my legs slowly but higher than necessary, my knees almost hitting my stomach. Agum noticed.
— What are you doing? she asked.-Are you making fun of the soldiers? I smiled shyly.
— Achak! she said, clearly approving.-You shouldn't do that.
Hearing her laugh eased my legs and I walked again like a person in control of his limbs. But just as soon, my arms lost their connection to my nervous system. I was no longer moving my arms. They felt limp, heavy. I gave up.
But I didn't give a goddamn. I was with the Royal Nieces of Pinyudo! We passed Block 10, Block 9, Blocks 8, 7, 6, and 5, and the girls asked me questions I was hoping they would not ask.
— Where are your parents? Agum asked. I told them I didn't know.
— When did you get separated from them? I told them a very brief version of my story.
— When you will see them again? Yar asked, and for this received a punch on the shoulder from Agar.
I was tired of this line of questioning. I told them I didn't know when or how I would see my family again, hoping this, spoken to the ground, would encourage the nieces to seek other subject matter. It did and they did.
The house was one of the most impressive at the camp. There was a stone wall around it, a path leading to the front door, and inside, four different rooms-a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms. It was the biggest house I had seen since I had left home. It was not a hut like we lived in in Marial Bai and elsewhere in southern Sudan. This was a brick building, a sturdy-seeming structure, permanent.
Standing at their door, my legs went limp and I found the wall in time to support myself. The door opened.
— Hello girls, their aunt said. She stood over us, so beautiful, looking like all of her nieces but in woman form. She turned her attention to me.-Is this the boy you were talking about, the star student?