Beneath the Darkening Sky (17 page)

I want to escape. I can’t for my life say exactly what I’m afraid of, all I know is I want to leave. Run out of the tent, across the training field, through the creek, up the hill.
Away. Anywhere.

‘Okay.’ Mouse grabs my ankles. ‘First things first.’ With one hand on my ankle, she grabs at my shorts with the other. I try to swat her away and pull my leg free, but
she smacks me in the balls, which paralyses me for a second. ‘Hey, this is for your own good. If you can’t do this, the other soldiers will mock you to death. They will teach you
themselves.’

In the back of my mind I hear Parasite whispering about the officers raping recruits out of boredom. I stop resisting. Shame courses through my body as she slides my shorts down to my ankles,
but there in the darkness, all I see are phantoms. The soldiers are brutal in camp, but out in the villages I’ve seen pure horror.

Mouse’s hands run along my bare legs and my body responds. I flush with shame at my erection, but that feeling is replaced by something else as her hand closes around it. I’ve done
this to myself before, in the privacy of the jungle, but this is completely different. Then, hot wind. Her breath sends a vibration up my spine and my body has no idea how to respond. A new warmth,
soft and wet, envelopes me. I’m clawing at the sides of my cot. My legs convulse as every nerve below my waist explodes.

Light-headed, my heart pounds, my breath races.

‘All right,’ she says. ‘That’ll do for now. I just got in a couple of new girls that need to be broken in. I’d have saved you one, so you can learn to be in charge,
but you’re not invited to the party. The Captain is crazy about brand-new.’

Something more is coming tomorrow. The dread of a mission is crowded out by a strange blend of fear and excitement at the thought of what I have to go through first.

When one of Mouse’s girls changes my bandages the next day, she leaves without touching my legs. Twenty-four hours ago, I had been terrified by her touch. Now I want it. Somewhere in my
mind, a switch has been flipped.

So I spend my day with Priest. We practise shooting, matching each other shot for shot. He repeats some of the things he’s told me before about what to do on a mission.
I am full of horror but understand he is trying to save my life. Priest tells me – like Akot did – to get smarter or we’ll both end up dead. He tells me I have to act the part of
the revolutionary soldier if I am to survive, just like he has to. Any other thoughts I must keep to myself.

All the time he’s talking, I wait. And I think. Wait for the night. Wait for Mouse.

Mouse is laughing when she comes for me. I’ve been hanging around the hospitality house since sunset, kicking stones and watching the trees. She smiles as she takes my hand and leads me
inside.

It’s one of the largest buildings in the camp, with walls of corrugated metal and uneven wooden floorboard running down one long hallway. The doorways are just openings with simple
curtains pinned across them. The girls who are available have their curtains pulled open. Akidi must be in here somewhere.

Two girls are sitting in the hall, leaning against one wall, whispering to each other and smoking. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone smoking. Not a cigarette, at least. The
officers have cigars sometimes, but these two women sharing a pack of cigarettes is so non-military that I’m confused about where I am.

Mouse leads me past them to an open room at the far end of the house. She steps inside and pulls me along, closing the curtain behind us. In the far corner is a girl I’ve seen a few times
around the camp, though I’ve never spoken to her. She is reclining on a great heap of old blankets and discoloured pillows. The lazy look in her eyes and the careless way she sits make me
uncomfortable in a way I can’t name.

You see the hospitality girls in the camp, but not often, so it’s easy to imagine that they have an easy life, cooking and occasionally doing laundry with the other girls. But seeing this
girl sprawled across these stained rags – it’s not ease but something more like a coma, a waking coma. And although the scene repulses me, it also stirs me. It divides me.

‘Okay,’ Mouse says, sitting by the door of the cramped room. ‘You’ve had your first proper cum.’

The other girl snickers.

‘This is Sittina,’ Mouse continues. ‘She’s going to give you your first real fuck.’

Just the word, here, starts the blood thumping in my ears. I stand petrified in front of Sittina. She looks up at me with a slow grin. How much time passes? I don’t know. The two girls
start laughing.

‘Well,’ Sittina says, her voice prodding. ‘You’re going to need your dick out.’ She and Mouse laugh again. ‘Are you sure he isn’t one of the
bodyguards?’

‘He couldn’t be,’ Mouse replies. ‘He’s too skinny.’

Sittina leans forward a bit and notices my eyes moving along with her. ‘Oh, I think I know how to get this moving.’ She takes hold of the knot in the sarong tied around her torso and
tugs it open, revealing her body to me. In the dim light filtering in from between wall and ceiling, I can see she has wide nipples the colour of chocolate. And there’s hair between her legs.
I didn’t know girls had that.

My mouth is dry.

‘I can’t tell if he’s shy or just a pervert,’ says Sittina.

She reaches up and grabs one breast. Giggling, she starts to massage herself as I watch, helpless. Everything outside what I can feel and see seems not to exist. My body is weightless and alive.
For a second my eyes blur, I feel like I’m falling asleep, just for a second.

Sudden laughter brings me back to the room. My crotch is warm, and looking down I see a dark spot growing in my shorts. Both girls howl with laughter. Mouse is laughing so hard she’s
actually crying.

‘A pervert,’ she chokes out between breaths. ‘If only it was always that easy.’

Everything settles into its proper place. I think of a dozen things to say, but none of them makes sense. My face burns at their laughter. I don’t really know what I’ve done wrong,
but I know that it’s bad, and more shameful than anything I’ve felt before.

I run. I punch through the curtain and race down the hall, bursting past the smoking girls and outside. I pause for a second, not knowing where to go. I can’t go to the barracks, or face
Priest with my failure, and my tent has been taken, now that I’m a soldier going on a mission. So I follow the path through the darkness to the creek. At least I can clean myself up before
returning to the barracks for lights out.

Hitting the icy water is like dropping a heavy pack after a long run. Everything is instantly swept away. My mind washes clear. I pull off my shorts and kneel in the water, cleaning myself. My
thoughts clarify – who are they to laugh at me?

They are hardly even real prostitutes. They get their room and their food, same as the soldiers, and then they sleep with whoever comes in. They don’t even get real money for it. Yet they
laugh at me. The officers are all disgusting animals, what do they like doing? I can’t even imagine.

After a bit more scrubbing, bare hands on my wet shorts, I return to the barracks. Parasite isn’t there. At first I’m relieved not to have to explain why I’m wet, but then I
realise that the only place he could be is the hospitality house. I fall asleep before he comes back.

In the morning I see him whispering to another soldier and pointing at me. What has he been told? What is he telling?

That day, Sittina is sent to change my bandages, as though Mouse is taunting me. I don’t talk to her as she sees to my wounds, I don’t even look at her.

She seems unaware of my anger. ‘You shouldn’t have left so quickly,’ she says, pulling the cloth off my arm. ‘You’re young. Young men bounce back very
quickly.’ This is loud enough for anyone to hear.

Her laughing echoes in my head and I repress the urge to hit out at her. The few other boys in the barracks laugh a bit. I want to tell her to shut up, but that will make me look weak.

‘We could’ve had some real fun.’

A real laugh bursts from one boy, though he tries to hide it. When she finally leaves I go for a walk, escaping the chuckling boys.

I go to Priest’s hut, but it’s empty. I ask around and find out that he’s been sent to the captured government town. A few adult soldiers were killed, and they need more men to
stand guard while they gather the new recruits. I miss my friend, but to show that would put us both at risk. With no guitar to distract me, I waste the day trying to work out how many people know
of my shame.

Something has to be done. The sun is at the treetops when I burst into the hospitality house. I march down the hallway towards the end, where I guess Mouse’s room is. It’s the only
one with real furniture. A plastic chair with a big blanket thrown over it, and a wooden rack with three dresses draped over its rungs.

Her bed isn’t much better than the other girls’, but her blankets and pillows are cleaner, newer. When I look in, she is propped up against the corner of her room, among the blankets
and pillows of her bed. Her eyes are half closed and a ragged grin rests on her lips. With one hand she clumsily strokes her hair, the other holds a glass bottle of clear liquid, almost empty.
There’s a bitter scent in the air that I don’t know, but I know that look. She’s drunk.

‘What did I do wrong?’ Just saying the words makes me feel smaller.

Mouse giggles and checks her bottle to make sure it isn’t completely empty. ‘Oh, you’re just young.’ She laughs again.

As she takes a sip some liquid splashes out and rolls down her cheek. ‘It takes most of the old guys forever. And they can’t even get it up if you don’t act all “Oh,
please don’t hurt me!”’

She roars with laughter and rolls over on her blankets, careful to keep the bottle upright. ‘Such fucking bastards. It’s like, it’s like . . . they don’t even like girls.
Or boys. Fuck, they don’t like fucking.’ She looks up at me with sleepy, lazy eyes. ‘Where have the real men gone, eh? What happened to them?’

I want to punch her. I speak quietly, trying to hold it in. ‘Did you tell anyone?’

‘What?’

Now I’m yelling. ‘Did you tell Parasite about me?’

‘That prick? Fuck, no.’ Then she giggles again and tips the bottle to her mouth. ‘You know about that guy? He likes getting slapped. I’m serious, he tells the girls to
slap him. He calls them “mommy”. Isn’t that fucking hysterical? He wants to fuck his mama while she tells him he’s been naughty.’

‘So you didn’t tell him?’

‘No. But now that I know you don’t want me to . . . I’m joking! I don’t talk to that piece of shit. Come here, People’s Fire. You gonna learn to be a real
man?’

I leave Mouse to her drink. I want to look for Akidi. But by now she’ll be one of them, she’ll laugh at me too. And she will be safer if I don’t look for her. I have already
put Priest’s life at risk. I must think smarter and not endanger my friends.

The next morning, I’m still not cleared to return to training. Apparently Sittina said I didn’t have the strength for it. Was that a kindness or an insult? Things
heal slowly in the camp, and death from a minor wound is not uncommon.

I’m not living soft out of privilege. I’m walking death, a constant reminder to the other young soldiers that even talking about escape is punishable. I have reported two recruits
for sleeping on sentry duty, and discovered five more who wanted escape. I ordered their execution. So, where another boy would have been back in the training field after a day, I’ve had a
week to relax, recover, and act as a threat.

Sittina doesn’t come for my bandages until after lunch, the hottest part of the day. The soldiers have been given this time off – the officers don’t want to run about in the
sun – and some go to target practice or lie in the shade. Some hang around the barracks, blasting music, playing games, wrestling.

When Sittina arrives she causes even more ruckus. She winks and sways through the clusters of boys at games or cleaning weapons. Finally she sits on my cot.

‘How does it feel today?’ she asks, a sly note in her voice.

‘Fine,’ I say.

‘It’s not like he uses that arm!’ a boy two cots over shouts, then mimes masturbating. The other boys laugh.

‘Well,’ Sittina says, smirking at me, ‘People’s Fire doesn’t have to.’

A chorus of ‘Oooh’ goes up.

A trace of fear flashes across my face. Sittina giggles.

‘Of course,’ she says, louder than before, ‘he doesn’t need a woman either.’ A kind of stunned silence follows. Now everyone is paying attention. ‘Or an ass,
for that matter.’ Laughter everywhere. The noise of a whole year’s thunderstorms is a whisper compared to this sound.

‘What?’ Parasite asks. He’s feigning innocence.

‘Don’t you know?’ Sittina says, standing to address the entire barracks.

Blood rushes to my face. I want to die. I almost pray for death. But the crashing scorn of the boys crowds out my prayer. In this moment of absolute loss, the shame transforms.

The image of Sittina slouching naked on her pile of blankets makes me sneer. She’s a whore. She has no power. She can’t shame me, and if she tries . . . Something takes shape in my
mind and my body responds.

Before she can say anything more, I grab her by the back of her neck with one hand and push her against my cot. Undoing the knot of her sarong I yank it off her. The room falls silent. This
woman in men’s territory is naked under my controlling hand. I undo my shorts and let them fall. The position is familiar, I’ve seen enough to know what to do, and my body is ready.

Right there, with the entire barracks watching, I fuck her. It burns, it doesn’t feel like it did with Mouse, but that doesn’t matter. This is not about pleasure, this is about
reminding her that she is a whore and I am a soldier. She has no business trying to shame me. Sittina says nothing, makes no sound, and that’s okay. I don’t need her to be afraid, or to
enjoy or not enjoy. I just need to show her – to show them all – this thing.

After just a few thrusts, the barracks erupts again, this time in a cheer. Like monkeys howling in the trees. Then someone, maybe Parasite, starts chanting my name, and before I’ve
finished they’re all chanting. ‘People’s Fire, People’s Fire, People’s Fire!’ I come, and let out a shout, answering the energy of the boys rather than the rush
inside me.