On day twelve, the General showed up, still smelling weird, like dirt. He had a serious look on his face, like Papa did when he’d had a bad day. “Come.”
I stood, but my knees wobbled. The bright sunlight hurt my eyes. I didn’t move, ’cause I was scared. His big hand landed on my neck and pushed me toward a green Land Cruiser. Inside, I saw three rifles. Were they going to shoot me? Didn’t Papa want me back?
Kofi drove, the diesel engine puffing out huge clouds of blue smoke. My hands shook. I straightened my shoulders, wanting to be brave. Papa had taught me that strong men put up a tough front. But I didn’t want to die.
The Land Cruiser bumped along the dirt road. We passed acacia trees, cornfields, and lots of desert. Finally we turned down a path to a village with grass huts. Little kids with big bellies chased each other. Women crowded around a fire pit. They looked starved and sad. Old men stood nearby, letting flies buzz around their faces. These people had no hope. I got it. I didn’t have much hope left either.
Kofi and the General opened the back of the truck and gave the villagers grain bags. People danced, smiled, and treated the General like some sort of hero. Two women dumped grain into a pot of water and started stirring. Everyone was suddenly happy. The General hugged the children, played games with them. When he called me over, I wasn’t as scared. With all these people watching, he wouldn’t kill me, would he?
It was weird. The villagers stared at me like I was an alien. They’d probably never seen anyone with white skin before. I still remember the question the General asked me.
“Have you ever been truly hungry—so hungry you would do anything for a scrap of food?”
I hated that horrible feeling of an empty stomach. If I didn’t answer Papa’s daily quizzes correctly, I’d be sent to bed without dinner. But I’d never gone days without eating, and I could tell what the General wanted to hear.
“No, sir.” That was always my answer when I was in trouble. It usually worked.
The giant waved his hands in a big circle and told me that these people wanted to eat, but Papa kept buying up all their crops for something called biofuel, leaving them nothing to eat. I stared at him, confused. How could Papa be hurting these people when he didn’t even know them?
At least I knew the answer to the next question about what Papa did for a living. That was easy. “Oil” was the one word I heard every night at dinner. Papa told me that my future rested in energy. But the General made it sound like a bad thing. That was why he was keeping me, to make my father stop taking away all the crops. I wasn’t sure what to think, but I was kind of mad at Papa for making the General angry.
I asked when I could go home. For a second, the General’s black eyes looked nicer, but then they got all mean again. He said Papa wouldn’t agree to do what he said, that his work was more important than me.
I felt sick. The General must be lying. I was the only son, my father’s favorite child. I was born in New York City, but Papa came from Greece, and the oldest son was the most important kid. One day, I’d take over his business.
Then I heard five big bangs. I almost jumped out of my skin. There was loud music and four Jeeps. All the villagers ran away. The General grabbed me and ran for the Land Cruiser, shoving me onto the floor. He picked up one of the rifles.
I peeked out through a rusty hole in the door. A tall man wearing a red bandanna stepped off one of the Jeeps. His name was Oba. The General shouted at him that he needed to go away, leave the villagers alone. But Oba didn’t listen. He made his men load the grain bags onto his Jeeps and walked over to the Land Cruiser. I was really scared. The whites of Oba’s eyes were yellow and red, like fried eggs cooked in blood. His pupils were huge.
“Get the kid,” I heard him say to Kofi. Was Kofi working for him now?
Another loud bang made my ears hurt. Kofi shot the General in the leg. He said Oba paid better; then he laughed like a hyena. They opened the door to the Land Cruiser and grabbed me. I screamed and kicked, but it didn’t matter. The General tried to stop them, but three of Oba’s men held him back.
Kofi threw me over his shoulder and carried me to one of the Jeeps. I couldn’t believe it. This crazy man Oba was going to kill me for sure.
NOBO
Bad news. Oba’s camp was worse than the General’s shed. Four mattresses full of lice, eight boys on each, their skinny legs all tangled. I huddled in a corner ’cause I couldn’t sleep. This little kid Nobo curled up beside me at night, maybe to stay warm. I kinda felt sorry for him ’cause he was tiny and his two front teeth were missing. I shared my blanket with him because the other boys had stolen his.