When Elephants Fight Read Free Page A

well and she didn’t eat enough to get better. Whatever scraps of food that were left were meant for her grandsons. Each evening, as he said his good-byes to her, he wondered if he would see her when he returned in the morning. He wished that she could come with them, but he knew she was too old and too sick to make the trip.
    Besides, the soldiers left old women alone. She wasn’t strong enough to work or young enough to bear children. She wasn’t somebody they could make into a soldier, or somebody that they had to fear. She was just an old woman, a grandmother, and she was of no use to them. Not even worth the price of a bullet. But he still worried. There was no cost in the blow of a machete.
    Some of these people—and Jimmy hardly even saw them as people— didn’t need a reason to kill. Maybe they were high on drugs or simply lusted for blood and didn’t need a reason. He could only hope that they didn’t want to even waste the energy necessary to strike her down. They left old women alone...they left old women alone...that’s what he’d heard. That was the thought that kept his hopes alive. They didn’t bother with old women.
    He had to hope that’s how she was seen: a worthless old woman. But to Jimmy and his brothers, she was all they had. If something happenedto her, who would cook their meals for them? Who would help work the fields or bring water? Who would Christopher talk to when he needed to make decisions? Jimmy knew his brother was smart and he trusted him, but still, he was yet to turn fourteen. He still needed the advice of his grandmother.
    â€œWe have to go,” Christopher said softly.
    Without another word they started off. It was a long walk, but the first steps were always the same and provided them with a vivid reminder of why it was they needed to walk. There were three mounds behind the huts, just off the path they took. Jimmy cast only a sideways glance as they passed—maybe it wasn’t respectful—but he just didn’t want to look, couldn’t dwell on what had happened and how much he missed them. Too many memories.
    Jimmy envied his littlest brother. He was only two at the time and was too young to remember it. All he knew were the stories that he’d been told. Jimmy would never forget, never get those images out of his mind.
    As the boys walked they were joined by other children leaving their families behind. There was already a trickle of other kids on the dirt track. As they passed each new home, each cluster of houses, each village, they were joined by more and more children. Some of these children were relatives and some were friends. None were strangers. Walking together each night and back again in the morning left little time for the fields or for schoolwork, but lots of time for talking. It was almost ironic that during these long walks, with nothing else that could be done, the children were free to be children. They sang songs, or played games, talked and laughed as they walked. They tried to make the best of it. But what choice did they have? To stay in their homes in the isolated villages and countryside was to risk being killed or kidnapped. So each night they walked, leaving their homes behind, heading for the safety of the town of Gulu, where they could be supervised by relief agency staff and guarded by government soldiers.
    The children moved to the side of the road as two vehicles rumbled up behind them. One was a van driven by one of the relief agencies, and the second was a big army truck. As the second truck passed, he saw the soldiers, rifles in hand, sitting in the back. Even they didn’t want to be in the country or on the roads when darkness fell. And, if it was even too dangerous for them, how much more dangerous was it for the children being left behind on the road as dusk rapidly approached?
    Jimmy looked behind him. As far as he could see there were children walking. Looking forward the line