When Elephants Fight Read Free

position in the sky, starting to sink toward the trees, that she was right. It was time to go. Jimmy’s brothers, Christopher, Julius and Douglas, working away in the field beside him, had heard her as well. They nodded their heads in agreement. Jimmy swung the hoe over his shoulder. For Douglas, only six and small for his age, the hoe was as big as he was, and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. Maybe Jimmy could have helped but he knew his littlest brother had to learn to bear his share of the load. There was no choice.
    As they walked through the field, Jimmy thought about their crop. The field was planted in root vegetables, mainly cassava, with only the tops showing through the soil so far, but it looked like there was going to be a good harvest. He prayed for a good harvest. Without that there’d be more times when hunger would be with them.
    Today the four brothers had finished weeding four rows. He knew that Christopher, the oldest at fourteen, had hoped for more, but there wasn’t time. There was never enough time.
    By the time they reached their home—two small huts, with the charred remains of a third beside them—their grandmother was waiting. One hut belonged to the boys. The second hut was their grand-mother’s. The third used to be their uncle’s home.
    Grandmother had packed them a small cloth bag. Inside was a little bit of food. Not much, but enough to give them something to eat on the road,and, if they rationed it out, perhaps a bite for the morning before they set out again. Christopher would carry the food and decide when they would eat. Jimmy didn’t know when he would choose to let them eat something, but he did know it would be done fairly, each receiving his share. Maybe there wasn’t enough, but whatever they did have was shared equally. That had always been the way in his family.

    Jimmy poses next to the prints of his mother’s hands on the wall of the room where he now sleeps
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    Jimmy also wanted to take one more thing with him. He ran into the hut and found it right where he’d set it down—on the little wooden stool that his father had made. It was a book with dog-eared corners, the cover partially ripped and the pages soiled from so many students having used it over the years. But it was important that he bring it along. There was a test tomorrow, and he’d already missed a day of school this week to sell vegetables by the roadside. He knew that he needed to study. Hopefully there would still be enough light to see the book when they arrived.
    It would be so much easier if they could just stay on their land. There would be more time to work in the fields. Time to study. Time to sleep. But not tonight. In fact, not any nightfor as long as Jimmy could remember. It seemed like forever since he’d been able to sleep in his own house.
    There was a time, more than a year ago, when each evening his grandmother and older brother would make a decision—was it safe to stay or did they have to go? While they were at school or working in the fields, Grandmother would listen to the radio, or talk to neighbors or relatives, people who lived in the village, and find out if there had been any attacks in the area. Some nights there was no word; nothing had happened. Then they might risk staying. But it was always a risk. There were no guarantees. Jimmy knew that better than almost anybody.
    It had been quiet that night when the Lord’s Resistance Army had come to his village. The rebel soldiers ordered everybody out of the huts and made them all kneel on the hard-packed earth of the yard and—he didn’t want to think about it anymore. There wasn’t even time for memories or grief. There was just time to walk. It was almost comforting to realize that there was no decision to make. Now, every night was too dangerous to stay.
    Grandmother gave each boy a hug. As Jimmy wrapped his arms around her, he felt nothing but bones. She wasn’t