The Apex Book of World SF 2 by Lavie Tidhar Read Free Book Online

naturally to Katulo. When his father had told him
to stay behind with the women and other children, he immediately chose to do
the opposite. He was too clever to be fooled by his father's placatory, "They
need you to protect them." Katulo was fourteen, two years away from his
initiation ceremony. He was too old to stay where it was safe. When he asked
about the fighting, his father always told him, "You're too young to
understand." This angered him. He knew this was about those Hutus. Fenke at
school was a Hutu. He was stupid and Katulo knew it wasn't his fault. He couldn't
be blamed for being born that way. The fighting is because the Hutus are
stupid. What was so hard to understand about that?
     
    When his father and
the other men had left, Katulo sneaked out of the village and followed them. He
stayed distant enough that he was not seen. He was a good tracker. He shadowed
them for over three hours until they reached a small primary school. Its faded
sign depicted a laurel wreath wrapped around a shield and words that were too
rain-washed to read. Katulo hid amongst some bushes and watched the adults go
into the school.
    Waiting was boring.
This entire escapade had been far less exciting than Katulo had hoped.
    He waited for twenty
minutes, passing the time by counting how many bugs and birds he saw. He
created an imaginary conflict—birds against bugs. Every bug he saw gave the
bugs ten points and every bird he saw gave their side the same. A clumsy
ladybird that had tumbled from a leaf had just put the bugs sixty points ahead
when he heard a loud bang. He heard three more abrasive explosions and knew
they were gunshots. His father and the others had probably been ambushed.
Katulo ran forwards instinctively. He advanced with no thought for how he
planned to defend his father. He just couldn't let it happen. When he reached
the school, he pushed open a set of double doors and ran in. Inside, he heard
terrible sounds.
    The noise woke him
up. This was the point where the nightmare usually ended. Sometimes it would be
later. He had not had the dream in a long time, but Osati's rage had brought
the memories back. It was those Hutu bastards. I swear by my ancestors they
will pay for this. "It cannot happen again," Katulo said aloud. Afterwards,
he was unsure whether he'd said this to reassure himself, or as a prayer.
    3
Weddings in Azamé village were huge. Even poor families slaughtered at least two goats. The
Gomozis were a wealthy family so the wedding was even grander. Celebration
began at sun up and would keep going through the night. There was loud music,
hot-blooded dancing, and the smell of roasting meats saturated the air. Freshly
baked pastries and honey-dipped treats were pulled out of ovens and children's
faces were soon coated in sticky syrup. There was much laughter and boisterous
jesting. The most acclaimed storyteller in Burundi told a wild tale of Hyena
the trickster. It had no moral; it was simply for enjoyment. The couple wore
costumes that were dyed in multiple colours. Dozens of well-wishers surrounded
them.
     
    Normally, Katulo was
in the midst of any celebration, pushing his antique body to the limit by
asking pretty young girls to dance. If necessary, he would dance using his
walking stick for balance. But today, even with all the pomp and energy, it was
impossible for him to relax and enjoy himself. His mind was with the wounded
youth in his clinic and his eyes were drawn to things he would not normally
have noticed. The Marulas, a family with Hutu blood, sat separately from the
rest of the guests and nobody approached them to give greetings. Also, Osati,
Dengo and a group of their friends walked around pulling people aside and
talking in whispers. After the whispers, nods of agreement would follow. Even
people who usually had no time to listen to Osati's denunciations of the Hutus
were moved by his words. Chama's injury had made his solicitations much more
persuasive.
    Katulo was tempted
to leave but