Mungus: Book 1 (7 page)

             
The man in the suit had excellent posture and his baldhead was exposed under the sun.  “In case any of you don’t know, I am Confagulous Dickerson, the president of the nation Ramus.”  To this the audience gave a scattered clap.  “I would like to say a few things before I ask everyone under 18 years of age to leave the Theatre so that the gorier events, the tortures, can commence.”

             
Hank cursed and said to Di, “So we can’t stay for the good part?”

             
“Guess not,” Di said without taking his eyes off of the president.

             
Hank cursed again and the president continued on.  “I don’t usually come to these things, but I was just down the street.  I would like to remind everyone that what has happened today was not intended to be entertainment for entertainment’s sake.  You are supposed to enjoy the Theatre because it is a place of justice where criminals who were found guilty by a fair court system were tried and convicted.  You should like watching justice, and that’s what the Theatre is for.  I don’t want the Theatre to become a place where people come to get some sick thrill out of watching people be killed.”  The president coughed into his hand and then said, “at this time I’m going to ask that everyone under the age of eighteen please leave the Theatre.  The torture section is about to begin.  Thank you.”

             
The president then walked off of the sand and down a hall on the arena floor.  Guards began rolling out a giant metal contraption with locks and chains and blades. I couldn’t even imagine what this device was for.  “Let’s go,” said Di.  He took a pinch of tobacco out of a metal can and stuffed it under his lip.

             
We all stood up and Saul asked, “Can I look now?”

             
“Yes, Saul, we have to go.”

             
Di led and our chain gang walked back down the wooden staircase and out of the Theatre.  All of the children had to leave, but still, thousands of people stayed to see the more gory part of the entertainment.  Our group walked through the halls and out of the building when a loud, deep voice made me jump.  “Di!”

             
Di remained calm and turned around to look from under his cowboy hat at the approaching man in a black suit; President Dickerson.  “Can I help you, Mr. President?”  Di spat on the ground and the President gave him a disgusted look that went from the spit on the dirt to Di’s face.

             
“As a matter of a fact, you can.  You can unchain these men and women you’ve got here.  What makes you think that you have the right to chain up free men and women?”

             
“They ain’t free, Mr. President, they’re our laborers.”

             
The president shook his head.  “Are you serious?  That doesn’t make them your slaves.  They aren’t criminals.  Unchain them right now!  If I hear of them being chained again, I’m going to report you and you will find yourself with a little jail time and a hefty fine.  How does that sound?”

             
Di smiled and spat.  “Just dandy,” his voice rumbled in a low sarcastic growl.

             
The president’s eyes narrowed.  “You’ve got some attitude, boy.  It’s a mystery why such a nice guy like Glen Taylor would keep you on board.  Now unchain them!”

             
The president then turned on his heels and walked in between the vendors and back into the Theatre.  I guessed that he was going to watch the tortures.  Di cursed and ordered Hank to unchain us.  It felt good to have the cuffs off of my wrists and I ran my fingers across the red circles that the metal had made.  Di and Hank went and untied their horses from the poles and we left town and were, according to Di, headed for Mr. Taylor’s farm.

             
As soon as we were outside of town, Di got his whip out and had us all put our handcuffs back on.  Mr. Nelson didn’t fight this time.  We walked through roads cut into a deep forest for a few hours and then the land turned into grassy, treeless plains.  My handcuffs were keeping my hands down at my waist and the chains slowly danced back and forth.  We walked well into the night with Di leading and holding a lantern so that we could see.  It was passed midnight by the time that we stopped. All that we were given for dinner was a tin of water each and some dried bread.  We lay down under the stars and the crickets buzzed around us.  We were all too tired to talk, so whenever Di put out the lamp, most of us went right to sleep.  With my hands still cuffed over my lap I laid down on the grass and let the breeze kiss my face.  Owl’s hooted in the distance and smoky clouds drifted in front of the moon.  Despite my fatigue, I couldn’t sleep.  I thought about how so much had changed in one day.  I remembered earlier that day when Miss Marianna told us that we were going down to Mungus.  ‘That was earlier today?  It feels like weeks ago.’  I thought about how whenever Saul and I had been playing in the grass I had told him that I wished my parents could have seen this.  I took that thought back.  I wouldn’t wish that anyone could see what I saw that day.  What did it all mean?  The killings.  The torture.  The crowd laughing.  Was this a bad place?  It seemed as though it was, but what about what the president had said.  Had all of those people actually gotten a trial?  Did that make it okay?  The president had said that it was supposed to be entertaining because you were watching justice being served.  Then why didn’t they make it more clear what the prisoners’ crimes had been?  Surely they must have done terrible things because the president had told Di that keeping people handcuffed without their consent was only prison time and a hefty fine.  And what can I do?  Should Saul and I try to escape?  And go where?  We can’t go back on the ship and we wouldn’t survive out in the wilderness.  The president had said that Mr. Taylor was a good guy though, so maybe it would be okay.  Maybe Di’s just a bad guy.  He’s made most of the decisions that have bothered me so far.  And Hank’s just dumb.  But what if the president was wrong about Mr. Taylor being a ‘good guy’?  Should I trust a man that condones children watching such awful things?  I didn’t know what to make of it and soon the images of the Theatre that were in my head became more real and I fell into dreams where Georgie the clown chased me over waterless deserts.

5

Walking

              “Get up, get up, get up!  It’s breakfast time and then we’re moving!  NOW!”

             
I opened my eyes in the dim light of the morning and when I tried to stretch out my body, I found that my arms wouldn’t budge. I looked down and realized that my wrists were still in the metal cuffs.  “Get up, all of you.  Sit!”

             
Around me, the other prisoners were sitting up and rubbing their tired eyes with their hands while Hank yelled at us.

             
A few yards off, I saw Di making eggs and bacon over an open fire.  I hadn’t eaten much the day before and my mouth watered at the wonderful aroma.

             
“What’s wrong with him?” Hank said, pointing to Verne.  No one answered.  Verne lay with his hands over his chest and his skinny legs straight out into the grass.  He was completely still.  “Is he dead?”  Hank bent down and yelled in Verne’s face, “Old man, get up!”  Verne didn’t stir.  Hank looked around at us and then kicked him in the hip.  Verne sat up.  He looked around with eyes that were just as confused as the day before in the loading dock. 

“Try not to die, old man,” Di shouted from beside the fire.

              I felt stupid for letting my mouth water over Hank and Di’s eggs.  Again, the prisoners’ meal was stale bread and water.  The bread was hard and I had to dip it in my lukewarm water to soften it enough to swallow.  Di and Hank took their time eating their delicious-looking breakfasts.  When they were done, they wasted their leftovers by throwing them in the grass instead of giving them to their hungry prisoners.

Then, w
e packed up the trailer.  The morning was cool and when I stood up I felt that my pants were wet.  I bent down and felt the green grass and saw that it was covered in drops of water.  I had heard of morning dew before, but this was the first time that I had ever seen it.

             
Once the trailer was packed up, Di hopped on his horse and we followed.  I only had slept a few hours during the night and I was thankful that we started off at a slow pace.  The animals were beginning to wake up and all kinds of insects and birds sang their morning songs.  The chain between Saul and I drifted back and forth; each time it moved, it irritated the skin on my already irritated wrists.  Up ahead of Saul, Verne seemed to be keeping a good pace.  His mind wasn’t all there, but he was still physically healthy and had good posture.  He trucked along, going step for step with the rest of the chain gang.  Di took out his dip can and loaded some of the black stuff under his lip.  He wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve and then spat off to the side. 

The day wasn’t cool for long.  Just a few short hours after we had begun to walk
, the sun burned heavy atop my head of dark hair.  I wished that I had a cowboy hat like Hank and Di.  Despite Hank and Di, the hot sun, and my raw wrists, the planet was beautiful.  The green grass stretched out forever all around me and whenever the wind blew all of the blades waved in unison as if they were different parts of one creature.  Trees were scattered and the terrain looked much less like a forest than it had near the town.  Herds of cows grazed along the plains.  When we walked by, their heads popped up from the green and they watched us as they chewed and grinded grass in their mouths.  They were majestic, huge, and quiet creatures, except for the occasional ‘moo’ to say hello.  My favorite things about the prairie were the sheep.  At least, they looked like sheep—very small sheep.  They were small furry creatures with backs only coming about a foot and a half off of the ground.  They walked in huge herds of white fluff ‘bahh’ing and biting off grass in their little mouths.  While we walked, everyone except for Di turned their heads to look at the cute animals.

             
We continued walking until the herd was far behind us and the sun was in the middle of the sky.  I was wishing for a lunch break and missing the herds that had been our entertainment until I heard a ‘bahhaah’ beside me.  The chain gang turned their heads to the side and we saw a tiny lamb that had gotten separated from the herds.  The thing only came up to Saul’s knees.  It opened its mouth wide showing us its long, dull teeth and ‘bahh’ed for us once more.

             
“How precious,” Mrs. Nelson said.

             
We kept walking and the animal hobbled along beside us ‘bahh’ing every few minutes.  It seemed to think that we were its herd, so it followed us.  Di kept riding and he spat into the grass.

             
‘Bahh.’

             
‘Bahh.’

             
‘Bahh.’

             
I was happy to have the little thing beside of me.  I watched it and wondered if it was going to follow us all the way to the farm.

             
‘Bahh.’

             
Di stopped on his horse and for the first time he looked at the furry creature.  The lamb’s blue eyes glimmered in the sun under its white curls.

             
‘Bahh.’

             
Di spat and pulled his bow off of his back and loaded it with an arrow. 

“Don’t kill it!” Mrs. Nelson shouted. 

Di pulled the arrow back and pointed it at her.  She cowered and put her hands in front of her face as if they would protect her from an arrow.

             
“Don’t tell me what to do.”  In one quick motion Di turned and released the arrow.  The string straightened and the arrow seemed to go all the way through the front of the lamb and it let out a noise that sounded like pleading.

             
Di’s horse began to walk again and Di returned his bow to his back.  We followed, leaving the lamb crying on the grass to die alone. The further we got, the harder it was to hear its cries.  I could tell that no one wanted to leave, except for Di; because he was the leader and because he was crazy we had to.  We walked over the grass and the chains rubbed on my raw wrists more.  I was never sure because I could only see his back ahead of me but I thought that I heard Saul crying for the little lamb.  Every few steps he would sniffle and let out a quiet moan.

             
We didn’t eat all day and when night fell and I felt as though I was going to pass out, we all sat down and had dinner.  Di and Hank started a fire and made some more eggs for themselves.  The chain gang was again given water and little pieces of hard bread.  Saul and I sat hip to hip while we ate our meal and tears began to roll down Saul’s face.

             
“What’s wrong, Saul?”

             
“I’m tired.  I’m so tired.  Look at my wrists; do you see how red they are?  I’m tired, Walt.  And I’m hungry.  I need more food than this,” he said shaking his little piece of grain.

             
“Do you want some of mine?” I said offering my piece.