And so the group of friends continued their journey in their usual cacophony, trampling weeds along the way and skipping over the many aggregates of old bricks built long ago for house projects that had never come to fruition. From unit to unit, they'd come across a group of young boys playing games, mainly soccer. And in true Keur Massar style, they would provoke, mock, insult, boast or ignore each other, whether friendly or not, for there was nothing more real than these semi-rivalries between neighborhoods that children invented for themselves. The atmosphere was normal, even if two people scrupulously avoided speaking to each other: Daniel and Pape Moussa.
Neither of them had really held a grudge; their anger had long since evaporated under the scorching heat of the sun, the smell and feel of sweat, the happy relief of every area of shade, and the jokes and laughter that surrounded them. However, they were always left with that unease you feel towards the other person, that inability not to be able to start a conversation after an argument.
As a result, Daniel spoke on the left when Pape Moussa laughed on the right, and Daniel mocked on the right when Pape Moussa retorted on the left. The other boys didn't seem to notice, or perhaps pretended not to, and all was well in the silliest of worlds... at least until they reached the asphalt road.
It was a fairly popular route to downtown Dakar, even if it has lost half its traffic to the toll freeway. It's still a busy road, especially for the "DADA" buses. In any case, the boys had ended up disembarking on this lane in a disorganized gang, and, eventually, Daniel and Pape Moussa both ended up isolated at the rear of the group.
---
There was an awkward silence that lasted at least a minute, with only the sound of engines and the general atmosphere of Keur Massar, hectic enough even in these hot hours, to be heard in their little bubble.
It's... it's really embarrassing...
Daniel wanted to say something to break the tension, but at the same time his pride refused to let him get a word in. It was probably the same for Pape Moussa; in short, it was a battle of pride where whoever spoke first lost.
It was one of those moments when logic and feelings collide, become entangled and separate.
Daniel didn't regret his anger at all; he even thought it was justified. If he had it to do over again, he was sure he would have gone further than mere insults. However, now that everything had calmed down thanks to Saliou's providential intervention, the boy didn't know how to react.
Sometimes it's easier to deal with animosity.
The words of an old friend came back to mind, someone he'd lost touch with for some time.
_ I wonder how he's doing? wondered Daniel aloud.
_ What? replied Pape Moussa too quickly, his almost-smooth eyebrow arched in question.
_I wasn't talking to you, replied Daniel defensively. I was just wondering how Gaëtan was doing.
_ Ah...
_ Yeah...
Silence fell again for a moment, everyone absorbed in memories waltzing around a long young boy, 3 years their senior, an eternal smile on his lips.
_ It's been a long time, said Pape Moussa dreamily, I wonder what's become of him.
_ That's a good question...
Gaëtan should be 16 by now. It must have been a year since he'd last come to tell her grandma that he'd passed his BFEM with his usual excitement. Daniel wondered vaguely what he was doing now; he was probably preparing for the start of his first year at school.
_ He's not a chosen one, is he?
_ No, replied Daniel, he's just a normal guy.
_ Good for him then.
Pape Moussa's slightly bitter tone didn't escape Daniel, but he couldn't blame him. When one awakens to sembou, a rune is drawn on the body, marking the individual as a chosen one. At that moment, your future choices are all plotted out, focusing mainly on the army and its 6 diambar corps: the thionganes, in charge of defeating the djinns; the ndimbelanes, in charge of intra-barrier protection; the Paddaans, a special forces unit where only the strongest diambars can evolve; the loucars, in charge of medicine and care; the ngallans, mainly in charge of logistics, communication and stewardship, and finally the tops, the secret agency at the direct service of the government and also independent of it.
Of course, there were 2 corps that could not be integrated so easily: the tops and the Paddaans. Only 4 corps were therefore accessible after passing the "chosen ones" exam, which was divided into two tests, physical and written.
The physical test is essentially optional at this stage.
Daniel wasn't fooled, and everyone knew it by now. To be able to study in the special ngallan or loucar training courses, you had to pass the written test first and foremost. And the success rate was far from reassuring.
Above all, there's a recruitment quota for both ndimbelanes and thionganes. You don't just need a good mark to pass, you really have to be among the best.
So there was a good chance of ending up with the thionganes, even with excellent grades. Daniel himself wasn't confident in his own abilities, so it wasn't Pape Moussa, with his more than average grades, who was going to feel serene facing this situation. He could therefore understand, to some extent, Pape Moussa's frustration, perhaps justifying his violent tantrums earlier, more violent than usual at least.
However...
_ You know there's no point in acting like that, Daniel told him, unable to hold back a hint of annoyance in his voice. You're probably going to the Thionganes - or at least there's a good chance of it - so what's the point of hating the uniform you're going to wear?
Pape Moussa huffed dismissively.
_ Are you saying I'm going to fail the exam?
_ Bro, you already know that the chances are extra slim, so at this point we might as well talk about your options.
Pape Moussa opened his mouth briefly, probably looking for a good repartee, but could only grunt. Daniel decided to take this as a sign of assent.
_ Here we go! Daniel exclaimed with relief, now your other alternative is ndimbelanes. Honestly, I feel like it's a choice between cholera and the plague, but if you ask me...
_Can you explain to me," cut in Pape Moussa with a wild look, why I'm the only one who has to discuss options?
Daniel looked at him, trying to hide the pride-filled smile in a failed attempt at humility.
_I clearly have more options than you.
_ Pff, it doesn't matter, you know, said Pape Moussa with an intensity in his tone, as if to hammer home the point, it's not just good grades that'll get you out of this mess.
_ I know that, what do you think? replied Daniel defensively. But unlike you, I'm going to get through this no matter what my options are.
_ Oh yeah, mister is confident! Even with the thionganes?
_ Even with the thionganes, confirmed Daniel with a smug grin.
_ You think you're better than all those people who have died and are still dying?
_ All I know is that I'm me, replied Daniel, his smile widening. And I know I'm going to make it, I'd give anything to make it, even with the thionganes.
_ Hmmm...
Moussa let his voice hover like a cloud of doubt over Daniel's sunny reveries.
_ You see yourself higher than you already are.
_ Better than seeing yourself dead.
That was Daniel's reasoning, a reasoning he grew up with without ever really failing at a single thing in his short life. He wasn't a genius, but he was a hard worker, and knew from the start that a situation could be solved with effort, and he didn't lack effort.
Pape Moussa closed his eyes tightly, his jaw set. Daniel could see that his reasoning didn't suit him, but he also seemed extremely tired of this particular debate. The group were approaching a fork in the road to the left, and the sound of the music told them they were getting closer to the event.
_ So... began Moussa, you're going to choose the thionganes for the exam?
Daniel's eyes darkened.
_ I don't want my mother to suffer because of me.
Pape Moussa's eyes opened slightly before taking on an understanding tone.
_ I understand, he said, looking at Jerome and Ousmane, who was playing with a sheep chained up in the shade of a tree, pulling its tail. I don't want my father and mother to be sad either.
Pape Moussa said no more, leaving a heavy silence that made Daniel's heart ache with a pain that made him want to cry, despite the strength he always wanted to display.
Fiercely chasing away that dark cloud over things, he tried instead to bring up another subject very much linked to their future without depressing them.
_ Personally, I'd rather be a thiongane than a ndimbelane.
_ Are you serious, said Pape Moussa incredulously, you'd rather fight djinns than work peacefully inside the fence?
_ Peacefully, I don't think so, muttered Daniel dubiously, now it's a very risky job too. Haven't you heard of these criminal organizations made up of chosen ones that have been growing since the djinn attack?
_ Of course I've heard of them, replied Pape Moussa darkly, you're talking about Guudi.
Daniel nodded gravely. Guudi has been a criminal organization full of unidentified chosen ones for over 15 years now; rumor has it that they have enough recruits to make up an army of their own, and they have loyal followers infiltrated even within the army.
_Their leader is said to call himself "the king of shadows", Daniel recalled, a finger on his mouth to remind himself, some are even convinced that he's the true king of the legends because of his strength.
_ Some say he even beat 2 Paddaans in his debuts, added Pape Moussa. But that's just a rumor that the army has never confirmed. The only thing we know for sure is that Guudi attacked a base in Dakar, killing 29 Diambars.
The Paddaans were the country's elite forces, 10 in all, each with 100 special soldiers. To think that two of them were beaten by the same person was frightening.
_ And the second group was something like "M'Bour yi"...
_ M'Bour bi, Daniel corrected, and they're more recent. Unlike the first group, they don't claim to have the king with them, but rather await his arrival by plunging the country into chaos.
_ Yeah, never understood their delirium.
_ Normal, they're crazy, especially if they're waiting for the definition of the angel of the apocalypse.
_ That's the problem," emphatically agreed Pape Moussa, "they're sick, and that makes them too unpredictable.
Daniel grunted his feelings.
_ In any case, being a Ndimbelane is a risk factor now, he concluded, not to mention the fact that if I were mutated in Casamance, I wouldn't survive with the rebels. And I'm not even talking about the recent riots that shook the country!
Casamance had become a never-ending danger zone since those little guerrilla battles for diola independence. Daniel was only half Diola himself, so he didn't really have an opinion on the subject, and he preferred not to think too much about it either.
_ Hey, you're talking about the riots, asked Ousmane, who had heard them behind him.
_ Mind your own damn business," said Pape Moussa curtly. You don't understand anything anyway.
_Of course I do, replied the 10-year-old, fiercely, because the ndimbelanes are all bastards in the service of the government and they want to entlave us all...
_That's what I said, you just don't get it.
_ And they say "enslave", corrected Daniel, rolling his eyes.
_ Now listen to me, added Pape Moussa with a serious look, you'd better not say out loud what you've just said. Where we're going, it's full of those ndimbelane bastards and you don't want to provoke them too much recently.
_ Pff, they're not going to do anything, bragged Ousmane with his goofy smile.
_ Abdou, Daniel shouted at the shaven-headed boy who was already at the fork in the road with Saliou and Jerome, come and save your little brother from his stupidity.
_ We won't have time to worry about that now, concluded Daniel as the ceremony music grew louder and louder, we've already arrived.
His thoughts went one last time to his friend, whom he hadn't forgotten.
Hope we'll see you there, Jojo.