Juba Good
glass earring was named Judy. Now she took one look at me and bolted for the back. But not before I saw her face. If she’d been a white woman, I’d have said the skin around her eye was black and blue. It was badly swollen.
    I headed toward an empty table. The bar was busy. Four white women laughed too loudly, their voices harsh in the quiet night. Most of the customers were men. A few couples perched on bar stools or sat close together at tables in dark corners. The couples were brown and white, white men with black women.
    Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with a lonely man wanting to meet a pretty woman either.
    I was interested in what else might be for sale in the Blue Nile.
    The manager came out before I got to a table. Two guards followed.
    â€œGet out,” he said. “You’re banned.”
    â€œHey.” I lifted my hands in the air. “I’m just here to have a beer.”
    â€œI said you’re banned. Now leave. Or I’ll have you thrown out.”
    The guards took a step forward. All conversation around us died. The women stopped laughing. The people at the nearest table picked up their drinks and slipped away.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “I’ll go someplace else.”
    â€œSee that you do.”
    I turned and walked away. I could feel the guards’ breath on the back of my neck all the way to my car.

Chapter Twelve
    When I got home from work the next morning, I was tired and grumpy.
    Herding livestock isn’t part of my job description. Shortly before sunrise, Deng and I had come across a frightened boy. He was running down a path in a shantytown on the city’s outskirts. We stopped and Deng asked what was wrong. The boy explained that he’d lost the family’s best goat. We drove slowly down the road, shining our flashlights into the bush. We didn’t have to search long before we found it. The rope around the goat’s neck had snagged on a thorny bush. It had spent its time productively. All the leaves and thorns within reach had been stripped off. We rescued the goat and returned it to the happy boy.
    Heading back to the truck, I stepped in a hole. It wasn’t a very big hole, but I didn’t see it in the dark. I fell, my ankle twisting underneath me. Deng helped me to my feet, chuckling. It wasn’t broken or sprained, but it was darn sore.
    The sun was an orange glow in the eastern sky when Deng dropped me off at the UN compound. No one was around. I limped to my container, feeling very sorry for myself.
    A length of measuring tape hung over my desk. I’d cut it off at thirty-one inches. Every morning for a month, I’d snipped off an inch. Eight inches were left. Eight mornings until Jenny and home.
    I put my key in the lock and turned it. I pushed open the door and switched on the light. I’d untied the laces on my right boot to give the ankle some relief. Now I pulled both boots off. While I unfastened my belt, I limped across the room, heading for the small bathroom. I glanced toward my bed.
    My heart just about stopped.
    Eyes as white and frightened as a horse smelling fire stared back at me.
    â€œWhat on earth?”
    The face was small and round. Not from being well-fed but from baby fat. She was about twelve, maybe thirteen years old. Her hair was cut short. She wore dangling blue earrings. Her lips were painted bright red. Mascara had been thickly applied to her lashes. Her eyes blinked.
    I crossed the room in two strides.
    â€œWho the hell are you?” The duvet was pulled up to her chin. I grabbed the cover and yanked it down to her waist.
    I leapt back.
    She was naked. Nothing more than a bag of skin and bones. I could see her chest rising and falling. I could almost see her heart beating. Her breasts were no larger than peanuts.
    â€œA present,” she said. Her voice squeaked. Her smile was forced. “You like me?” Her accent was thick. The words spoken by rote. As if she didn’t

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