Sitting in the living room armchair, Daniel lightly tapped his foot, betraying an impatience and annoyance he tried to keep as quiet as possible in front of his mother. Behind him, the sounds of a ball joyfully bouncing off the walls and chaotic shouts clandestinely echoed in the young boy's ears, making him grit his teeth.
This idiot… it's been 30 minutes now.
He had had time to watch a whole episode of "The Passion of the Heart" with Inés and Ma and another was about to start. And Jojo still hadn't come back.
This is the first time he's taken so long to eat. Usually, he gorges himself like a pig and finishes in less than 5 minutes.
The dark feeling that something was wrong clung to Daniel… No, that feeling hadn't left him since earlier, when he saw Jojo struggling for several seconds in his sleep. The look he had when he woke up, without even noticing Daniel beside him, reminded him of old memories. Memories that went back 3 years, when Jojo came to live with them for good, accompanied by Daniel's father, Gaby. When the younger Daniel came to greet him at the door, not yet understanding the extent of the trauma he had experienced, he felt his heart sink. His eyes were downcast, but the look Daniel could glimpse sent shivers down his spine. It was an indecipherable look for an 11-year-old kid like him, and even today Daniel couldn't imagine the weight of emotion he carried, so many emotions that combined so much in those eyes, that they seemed non-existent.
Daniel remembered very precisely that at that moment, after seeing his friend like this, he felt his eyes well up, as if out of sympathy for tears that Jojo could no longer shed.
Now that he thought about it, it was also during this period that he had seen his mother truly cry for the first time, when the news broke one day after the Yeumbeul disaster with a phone call from the big hospital in Keur Massar.
The whole house had been plunged into an anxious atmosphere since the day before when, on TV, a special report had warned the whole country around 6 p.m. of the nightmare shaking all of Yeumbeul. Daniel didn't understand all the implications at that moment, he just knew that chaos had taken over the neighborhood. Some were preparing to leave Keur Massar despite the warnings from the authorities who advised not to move until an evacuation order had been given and a team had been sent. Others were giving in to total hysteria, locking themselves in their houses and double-locking themselves in a corner. Then, finally, there were those who remained glued to their TV, listening to the news in a horrified silence. This was the case for Daniel's family.
Dad kept wandering in the living room, Daniel recalled. He tried to reach the Badji but it didn't go through. Maybe by then, it was already too late…
The possibility left Daniel in a daze for a moment before he shook his head.
Ah, enough of dark thoughts. Maybe I should go see if he's okay?
Daniel hesitated. Normally he wasn't the type to worry about this kind of thing, but another old memory came back to him, normal because his thoughts had wandered too far in that direction for him not to remember it.
The day they legitimately gained guardianship of Jojo, Inés had taken him aside. There was a sense of urgency and gravity in her gaze, slightly tinged with a melancholy that had quickly captured the child's attention.
_ Daniel, she had said, taking him firmly by the shoulders, promise me you will never ask Jojo about what happened to him.
The child had immediately nodded in assent.
Three years later, Daniel had diligently kept his promise, because deep down, perhaps he was afraid to know.
Maybe he dreamed of that in particular? If so, maybe he should be left alone for a bit?
As Daniel was lost in thought, a shadow in the corner of his eye silently crossed the door. Inés subtly startled before turning around to simply find a satiated Jojo. His gaze seemed to have returned to normal, much to Daniel's satisfaction.
_ By all the djinns, you scared me, Inés exclaimed. I didn't see you coming.
_ Sorry, Jojo mumbled with a guilty smile.
_ Anyways, you took your time, Daniel said, getting up from his armchair, the guys have already started playing, you hear them, right? We don't have a second to lose…
_ Wait, wait, wait, Jojo cried out as Daniel was already on him, dragging him out of the living room by the arm, what did I miss?
_ What? Daniel asked annoyed. Are you talking about the series? Alejandro broke up with Catalina…
_ Wait, what? Jojo exclaimed, but why?
_ Well, because he loves Lucia? Daniel replied, pulling his friend who didn't want to move.
_ I still don't see what the problem is…
Daniel contemplated Jojo for a few seconds, at a loss for words. A short silence followed these words before Ma chuckled.
_ Incredible, Inés muttered, disillusioned, looking at Jojo.
_ What? Jojo defended himself. I just think Catalina is prettier than Lucia.
_ You're digging your own grave there, Daniel commented, shaking his head from left to right, a hand on his shoulder.
_ Beauty has nothing to do with love, Ma added, trying to control herself, a trembling smile on her lips.
_ … We can have both…
_ Okay, let's stop there, Daniel cut in as a bomb had just been dropped, we'll talk about your twisted mentality another day, but for now… let's go! he added with a growl, managing to drag Jojo away by force before Ma and Inés pounced on him.
They opened the house door and turned left to avoid the stairs leading upstairs to go through the outer door. Meanwhile, Jojo couldn't help but ask.
_ But seriously, what did I say?
_ The fact that you ask that with all seriousness is frankly disturbing, Daniel commented, the sunlight slightly blinding him as he passed through the door and was greeted by the sound of a soccer match.
MTOA was a small neighborhood located in the north of Keur Massar, one of the 5 districts of the Dakar region. Its structure consisted mainly of a well-aligned row of houses, all different from each other, forming sand roads and dead ends in a rather random way for someone who was not used to it. Daniel's house, for example, was located between two-story houses on a wide cul-de-sac that served mainly as a playground for the kids who frequented it. However, entering and leaving MTOA was a rather easy task, the main road was paved for the occasion, and it was the only one that was not made of sand and rubble.
It was not the most idyllic setting in the region, especially given the fact that it was quite close to Malika, but there was a rather friendly atmosphere. Everyone knew each other, and no real social difference separated individuals. This was one of the advantages of these neighborhoods that seemed to have been lost somewhere, and which did not wish to be found because its inhabitants were happy as they were. A lively and joyful atmosphere… led most of the time by children.
From morning to night, there were games and discussions galore, excursions to abandoned or under construction buildings, soccer matches around the caïlcédrat, races and struggles among other things. Most of these games had become a bit childish for those in Daniel and Jojo's age group, but there is no age for soccer, nor a time for it a priori. The sun was already blazing, but that didn't stop the ball from tirelessly bouncing off the walls of the houses, the noise not bothering their residents, undoubtedly too used to this cacophony.
Without a second thought, Jojo and Daniel ran to join their friends and were immediately and without real thought divided between the two teams that had formed.
---
During hot days, when the sand became so hot that it was almost suicidal to wander barefoot, Jojo daydreamed of an adventure. His mind wandered, went to a world that seemed very distant, but at the same time close, very close, too close. A world that smiled innocently at him and had eyes only for him, a world that evolved by him and for him, giving him that feeling of importance and that slight stress of making a mistake.
_ Pass the ball! Left! …
This world was the only one that revolved around him. And he also revolved around other worlds, galaxies.
And each time this world took an interest in him, showed him its affection without shame or embarrassment, with that sweet candor, he felt a flame within him, like a light that embraced him and deliciously filled his heart.
And this flame grew…
_ How could you miss such a chance? roared Pape Moussa's voice somewhere in space.
_ I'd like to see you try, Daniel's voice retorted, exasperated.
It was thanks to this world that he understood the strength of this flame, and that he cared so much about what managed to fuel it within him. This flame burned for this world and for these galaxies. And the flame grew, grew…
Then one day, the galaxies disappeared.
And the flame exploded with force.
_ Send it over there! …
_ JOJO!
The fire that warmed, the fire that comforted… Became an infernal, suffocating blaze that destroyed everything in its rage. And, in this hell, this world watched him…
_ Jojo! MOVE DAMN IT!
His gaze was fixed on him, as usual… But his gaze hurt his heart this time, his already bruised heart.
And the flames devoured him.
In the end, the only thing left was a flame in the void…
_ JOJO!
With a start, Jojo felt an object rush towards him with great velocity, directly at his face. By reflex, he put his arm in opposition and swept it away forcefully. The contact was painful but the object was violently thrown against the wall to the left. Seeing it bounce, Jojo was perplexed for a moment before realizing that it was just a soccer ball.
Then reality caught up with him. He was in the middle of a soccer match.
There was a long silence on the soccer field, all the players, scattered disparately, looking at Jojo, some in positions that evoked an interrupted run. The first to react was Jerome, who was on the left side, strewn with gravel that served as a sideline.
_ FOUL! he yelled, running towards Jojo, raising an arm in a beautiful imitation of refereeing. His shorts, much too big combined with his small stature, could have made the scene comical if it wasn't so ordinary in everyone's eyes.
Jojo heard a growl in front of him and turned his eyes to see an angry Pape Moussa heading towards him.
_ Jojo, damn it, what are you doing?
_ S-sorry, Jojo said, recoiling suddenly.
_ Man, why did you touch the ball with your hands? Daniel reproached, also approaching.
_ What did you want me to do? Take it in the face? Jojo replied, stung.
_ You weren't even focused on the game, Pape Moussa roared in one breath, a step away from him now.
Around Jojo, the others began to argue, the subjects gradually moving away from his mistake.
_ Guys, let's continue the game, damn it! Jerome said, holding up the ball prominently, like someone waving a white flag.
_ If you just want to mess up our game, just say so! Pape Moussa said, ignoring his friend.
_ I'm sorry, okay?
_ Stop wasting our time, Serigne Fallou complained behind Jojo, just in the shade of the caïlcédrat that served as a goal for his team, it's already hot enough, so let's finish this match.
_ If you're that tired, just leave and let us play, Abdou retorted in a bad tone.
_ Abdou, Serigne Fallou muttered condescendingly, I have nothing to say to you. Before talking to me, at least have the decency to go brush your teeth, you stink.
_ Repeat that?!
_ Jojo, Moussa said, bringing his attention back to their discussion, I know you're stupid but you're our midfielder, so stop messing around, it's an important position.
_ If I'm that stupid, put me in defense, or in attack, and take my place, Jojo retorted, wanting to end it.
_ No, we can't, Pape Moussa asserted, your playing style is not good in attack and defense. You follow the ball wherever it goes, you go up in attack and defense, that's why I put you in midfield, for fuck sake!
_ Okay, okay, I said I'm sorry!
_ Abdou, back off or I swear I'll hit you, Serigne Fallou growled from behind.
_ C-calm down please, Saliou's voice was barely audible. He had always been silent, to such an extent that his voice had half faded into his mutism.
Of course, no one listened to him.
_ It's okay, we get it, damn it! Jerome interjected, running between the two altercations, vocalizing his impatience as the rest of the players also protested, sometimes about the heat, sometimes about the foul.
_ It's almost noon, Ousmane complained, trying to separate his older brother Abdou from Serigne Fallou.
_ So what, let's play the foul and get it over with, Modou said, lying on the sand in the shade of the tree, his eyes indifferently turned upwards, ignoring Abdou, Fallou and Ousmane right in front of him.
_ Well, Daniel sighed, I think he get it now. Let's continue playing once and for all, he added, placing a hand on Pape Moussa's shoulder.
But Moussa violently pushed Daniel's hand away.
_ Don't tell me what I have to do.
There was a long silence after that, even Abdou and Fallou stopped arguing. Daniel remained stunned for a moment too, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, in the blink of an eye, his expression took a more sinister turn, his eyes glowing with menacing anger.
_ Can you explain what your damn problem is? Daniel asked, conspicuously approaching Moussa.
To contextualize the scene, Daniel was a few centimeters shorter than Pape Moussa, so to look at him at such a close distance he had to lift his head at a certain angle. And behind them, there was Jojo who towered over them all in height and build, being naturally stocky. However, the scene immediately put enormous tension on everyone, as if all the boys had held their breath at the same time.
Because Daniel and Pape Moussa were not like them.
They were special.
They were chosen by the sembou, they had been marked.
They were beings with powers that no child could imagine, future diambars perhaps. So, of course, their confrontation could only generate a mixture of fear and curiosity in the audience.
_I'll stop when I'm done, you don't have to give me orders, Pape Moussa growled, not the least bit impressed.
_ I see, I see, Daniel retorted, the vein in his temple swelling, the problem is, we don't give a damn what you want, idiot.
_ Wow, now you dare to retort, Moussa mocked, baring his teeth in a sneer, do you think things have changed because of your rune?
_ Nothing has changed, Daniel retorted in a bad tone, I've never been afraid of you, and you're still the same idiot as before.
_ I'm really getting tired of talking, Pape Moussa sighed, raising his fist.
_ STOP!
Someone suddenly intervened, forcefully interposing themselves, pushing the two boys away. The only one brave enough – or stupid enough – to attempt such a thing turned out to be none other than Jojo, putting himself between them.
_ Calm down guys, this is not the time for that.
The two looked at Jojo with a look of shock and anger, but Jojo remained firm in his position, his eyes still avoiding them with a small embarrassed smile.
_ Jojo, are you fucking kidding me? Pape Moussa asked, grabbing his shoulder forcefully.
_ Let him go right now, asshole, Daniel muttered, trying to push his cousin away.
_ And if I refuse? What exactly are you going to do?
_ Jojo, get back quickly!
_ No, damn it, Jojo yelled, exasperated. You're ruining the mood here! And besides, if this continues we won't be able to finish the match before the ceremony! We have to see the new Thiongane recruits!
The phrase had the effect of drastically changing the heavy atmosphere. Daniel's eyes suddenly became clearer and he recoiled, looking guilty.
_ That's true too. I had completely forgotten, he said, surprised, the demonstration always starts at 1 p.m.!
Everyone then began to stir, the excitement becoming palpable.
_ That's right, we only have 10 minutes if we want to arrive on time, Ousmane said, excited.
_ Let's finish this match and go, Fallou added, if we come back after 2 p.m. my mother will kill me.
_ You're not the only one in that situation, Abdou agreed, abandoning his anger.
_ Finally, Saliou muttered with a sigh of relief.
_ But we don't care about that!
Pape Moussa's cry brought annoyed attention back to him.
_ Oh lord, are you going to be a pain in the ass all day long? Daniel muttered, exasperated.
_ It's a waste of time, I tell you, Pape Moussa insisted. And what's the point of going to see guys who, anyway, are going to die at the end of the year?
Pape Moussa's insightful answer drew several murmurs of assent from the group. Even Daniel, who was impatiently waiting to see the ceremony, was momentarily at a loss for words.
It was no secret that every year, the number of Thionganes who survived to the end was drastically lower than the number of newly recruited Thionganes. The majority always ended up either dead or mutilated. The deplorable state of Grand Serge, their neighbor who ended up with both legs missing, was already a striking example.
_So what, Daniel said, superbly dodging the question of the number of victims, without them, we wouldn't be here discussing!
_ They did nothing for Yeumbeul! – subtly, Jojo trembled gently at his words. Everyone knows they are just suicidal incompetents. They have accomplished almost nothing in 3 centuries! All that to bring only more deaths and lamentations, not to mention all the money the state spends on them.
_ Stop talking like someone who knows what he's saying, it's disgusting.
The murmur Jojo let out, like a leak of his real thoughts, was unfortunately perfectly audible. The gaze of his friends, unaccustomed to hearing so much contempt in his voice, weighed on him.
_Well, do you have something to say, Jojo?
Seeing Pape Moussa's expression, which was about to explode, Jojo understood in a quarter of a second that he had only two alternatives: defending his ideals and the fight that would inevitably follow, or getting out of this situation by playing the idiot, which he did very well, by the way. Normally, he would have opted for the second option; he hated fighting and always preferred to avoid provoking more than necessary. But… he couldn't.
Of all days, today was the worst to make him angry, especially if it meant reminding him of Yeumbeul for that.
Is he really trying to act like a little jerk? What does he know?
A familiar sensation began to rise within him. He felt as if his brain was clouded by heat while an intoxicating sense of power rose within him.
Does he think he can do anything? Does he think he's in a position to make threats? Because he's the strongest? Is that really how he wants to play?
So… Why not play this game with him?
His heart suddenly pounded, as if it was finally fully, completely tasting life. His body warmed, his mind began to dangerously empty while a strange but dangerous feeling was born within him. He felt it within him, frightening him as much as it comforted him. The answer was there, clear in his mind, pushed back by his heart, but impossible to ignore at that moment.
This feeling…
It was the feeling of power.
Just one step, just one gesture, and he would erase everything that bothered him. His hand twitched, then his gaze fell on his future victim. Then…
Pape Moussa's jaded look of contempt overlapped with another look…
The tension escaped.
Everything happened in a second, a terrible second, just one second. In that simple lapse of time, Jojo's intention metamorphosed and he turned away.
_ I'm leaving, he mumbled, heading for the exit of the cul-de-sac.
_ Is that all you have to say?
_ Listen, Pape Moussa, do what you want. Stay there, go see the ceremony, I don't care. But if by staying with you I have to hear you talk about Yeumbeul, I prefer to leave.
Pape Moussa remained silent, his gaze blurred by anger gradually widening with the realization of why Jojo was acting like this.
_ A-ah, that's right, he stammered, an expression of regret on his face, listen I…
_ It's okay, Jojo cut in without turning around. Well, I'm out of here…
_ Jojo, hey wait, Daniel's voice was heard in the background but Jojo didn't stop.
He quickly turned left before sprinting with all his might, the hot sand biting his bare feet. The different houses were just a blur in front of him, and, more by instinct than anything else, he avoided all the passers-by he met on his way, most of them familiar to him.
_ Jojo? Where are you going like that? asked Madame Mbacké, seeing him suddenly burst onto the paved road, barefoot at that.
But Jojo didn't stop, he continued to run despite the pain that the small pebbles scattered here and there on the broken paving stones caused him.
He ran on the sand, stones, and paving stones, weaving from street to alley to the left, then to the right, in an inconsistent, illogical pattern. Then, after a good 10 minutes, he stopped, out of breath. Dazed, he realized that he had ended up at the entrance of the spice market, right on the asphalt road at the exit of MTOA. The car and pedestrian traffic was as crowded as usual, bustling and animated by an almost comforting cacophony.
Jojo, out of breath, turned away from the road and went to the tiled base of a closed money withdrawal shop and lay down there, in the shade of a tarp. A feeling of emptiness assailed him.
_ I almost used my sembou, the young boy mumbled to himself.
And, as his gaze was fixed on the blurry sky, so blurry that he could barely distinguish the shape of the clouds, he seemed to perceive golden streaks that shone and spread far and wide.
The branches of Gouy-gui, the sacred baobab that protected all of Senegal…
_ Seriously, Jojo said bitterly, how did we get here? What is this incomprehensible world?