Dave Eggers - What Is The What

— Sit. Sit and wait, he said.

He ran ahead. When he came back he was grinning.

— They've killed an elephant. Come now! Everyone will eat meat today.

We began to run. No one knew all that Dut had said but they had heard the word meat. We ran after Dut and Kur Garang Kur.

I ran and the ground beneath my feet flew because I ran so fast, jumping over rocks and brush. We all ran, boys laughing. It had been weeks since we had eaten meat of any kind. I was happy but while running my head was conflicted. I was so hungry, my hunger splitting me everywhere, but in my clan the elephant was sacred. None of my people in Marial Bai would ever contemplate killing, much less eating, an elephant, but still I ran to the animal. No other boy seemed to hesitate; they ran like they were not sick, like they had not been walking so long. We were not dying boys at that moment, we were not those who were walking. We were hungry boys who were about to feast on fresh meat.

When we got close we saw a small grey mountain, and everywhere around the mountain were boys. There were hundreds of boys, ten deep around the elephant. One boy was tearing the elephant's ear. He had climbed onto the head of the beast and was ripping the elephant's ear from its skull. Another boy was standing against the elephant, with his hand and wrist missing, and his shoulder red with blood. A moment later the boy's hand had been restored, but was covered in blood. It had been inside the elephant; he had thrust it in where the bullet had created an opening. He had grabbed whatever meat he could and was eating it, raw, his face dripping with the animal's blood.

Near the elephant were two men wearing uniforms, carrying guns. As the boys tore into the animal, I watched the men.

— Who are they? I asked Kur.

— That's your army, he said.-That's the hope of the Dinka.

I watched as Dut and Kur and one of the soldiers helped to cut into the elephant's hide. They opened a long slice at the top of the elephant and then the boys, ten at a time, would peel the skin back, ripping it down, pulling it to the ground. Underneath, the elephant was as red as a burn. The boys leapt into the animal, biting and ripping flesh, and when each boy had a handful of meat, they ran off like hyenas to gnaw under trees.

Some boys began to eat immediately. Others did not know if they should wait to cook the meat. It was morning, and many boys were not sure how long they would stay here, with the elephant, and if they would be allowed to take meat with them.

The SPLA soldiers had started a large fire. Dut ordered five boys to gather wood in order to grow the flames. Kur started another fire on the other side of the elephant, and we who had not already eaten our meat roasted it on sticks.

The soldiers were pleased to see us eating and they talked to us in a friendly manner. I sat next to Deng, watching him eat. It felt so good to see Deng eating, though Deng ate without smiling, and did not enjoy the meat as the others did. His eyes were yellowed at the rims, his mouth cracked and spotted white. But he ate as much as he could. He ate until he could eat no more.

When the eating was done, we took full notice of the group of rebels sitting around a giant heglig tree. We gathered around the men and stared.

Dut quickly interfered.

— Give them room to breathe, boys! You're like mosquitoes. We took a few steps back but then slowly closed in again. The men smiled, appreciating the attention.

— We had some trouble in Gok Arol Kachuol, Dut said.

— What sort of trouble? one of the rebels asked.

Dut brought one of the injured boys forward. His leg had been cut with a spear.

— Who did this? the rebel demanded.

The man was named Mawein, and he was suddenly standing, enraged. Dut explained what had happened, that we had walked peacefully to the village, had been refused food and then chased from the town by men throwing spears. He left out the part involving the theft of the nuts, and no boys thought it necessary to bring it up. We were filled with pride and anticipation, watching Mawein's anger grow.

— They did this to Red Army boys? Boys with no weapons? Dut could taste the revenge and added to their sins.-They chased us for half a day. They wanted no rebels. They called us rebels and cursed the SPLA.

Mawein laughed.-This chief will see us soon. Was it the man with the pipe?

— Yes, Dut said.-Many of the men had pipes.

— We know this place. Tomorrow we'll visit this village and discuss with them the treatment of the Red Army boys.

— Thank you, Mawein, Dut said. He had adopted a tone of great reverence. Mawein nodded to him.

— Now eat some more food, he said.-Eat while you can.

We ate while staring at the men. Each soldier had around him twenty boys who ate without taking their eyes from him. The men seemed huge, the biggest men we had seen in months. They were very healthy, their muscles carved and their faces confident. These were the men who could fight the murahaleen or the government army. The men embodied all of our rage and spoke to every hope we could conjure.

— Are you winning the war? I asked.

— Which war is that, jaysh al-ahmar?

I paused a moment.-What is that word you used?

— Jaysh al-ahmar.

— What does that mean?

— Dut, you don't teach these boys anything?

— These boys are not yet jaysh al-ahmar, Mawein. They're very young.

— Young? Look at some of these kids. They're ready to fight! These are soldiers! Look at those three.

He pointed to three of the older boys, still cooking meat over the fire.

— They're tall, yes, but very young. The same age as these here.

— We'll see about that, Dut.

— Are you winning the war, Mawein? Deng tried.-The war against the murahaleen?

Mawein looked to Dut and then back at Deng.

— Yes, boy. We are winning that war. But the war is against the government of Sudan. You know this, don't you?

As many times as Dut explained it to me, it still confused me. Our villages were being attacked by the murahaleen, but the rebels left the villages unattended to fight elsewhere, against the government army. It was baffling for me then, and was for many years to come.

— You want to hold it? Mawein said, indicating his gun. I did want to hold it, very much.

— Sit down. It's very heavy for you.

I sat down and Mawein made some adjustments to the gun and then rested it on my lap. I worried that it might be very hot but when it rested on my bare legs it was very heavy but cool to the touch.

— Heavy, right? Try carrying that all day, jaysh al-ahmar.

— What does that mean, jaysh al-ahmar? I whispered. I knew that Dut didn't want us to know the answer to this question.

— That's you, boy. It means Red Army. You're the Red Army.

Mawein smiled and I smiled. At that moment, I liked the idea of being part of an army, of being worthy of a warrior's nickname. I ran my hands over the surface of the gun. It was a very strange shape, I thought. It looked like nothing I could think of, with its points everywhere, its arms going every direction. I had to look over it carefully to remember which side the bullets exited. I put my finger into the barrel.

— It's so small, the opening, I said.

— The bullets are not wide. But they don't need to be big. They're very sharp and fly fast enough to cut through steel. You want to see a bullet?

I said I did. I had seen casings, but had never held an unfired bullet.

Mawein sifted through a pocket on the front of his shirt and retrieved a small gold object, holding it in his palm. It was the size of my thumb, flat on one end and pointed on the other.

— Can I hold it? I asked.

— Of course. You're so polite! he marveled.-A soldier is never polite.