A long silence fell over the soccer field, with all the players, scattered haphazardly, staring at Jojo, some frozen mid-run. The first to react was Jérôme, who was on the gravel-strewn left side serving as the sideline.
"GOAL!" he shouted, running toward Jojo with one arm raised in a perfect referee imitation, his baggy shorts billowing with every movement.
The first to respond was Daniel, letting out a victorious cry.
"Fuck yeah!"
The whole team rushed toward Jojo, shouting with joy, Daniel leading the charge, his eyes brimming with excitement.
"You absolute fucking beast, since when do you play like that?"
"I-I don't know," Jojo stammered with an embarrassed smile. "It just happened."
To his left, Pape Moussa sat up, grimacing in frustration.
"That goal was extrardinary!" Ousmane shouted, clinging to Georges.
"It's extraordinary," Jojo corrected, "but thanks."
Daniel was still jubilant.
"Now we can finally go see that ceremony. We've got just enough time to—"
"Who cares about that!"
Pape Moussa's shout drew annoyed attention back to him.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, are you gonna keep whining?" Daniel muttered, exasperated. "You lost, so just shut the fuck up."
"It's a waste of time, I'm telling you," Pape Moussa insisted. "What's the point of watching guys who are just gonna die by the end of the year anyway?"
Pape Moussa's sharp reply drew several murmurs of agreement from the group. Even Daniel, who was eager to see the ceremony, was momentarily left speechless. It was no secret: every year, the number of thionganes who survived was drastically lower than the number of newly recruited ones. Most ended up either dead or maimed. The deplorable state of their neighbor, Grand Serge, who had lost both legs, was already a glaring example.
"So what?" Daniel shot back, deftly dodging the question of casualties. "Without them, we wouldn't be here talking!"
"They didn't do anything for Yeumbeul!"—Jojo subtly trembled at his words. "Everyone knows they're just suicidal incompetents. They've accomplished almost nothing in three centuries! All they bring is more death and grief, not to mention all the money the government wastes on them."
"Stop talking like you know what you're saying—it's disgusting," Jojo muttered, his words slipping out like a leak of his true thoughts, unfortunately perfectly audible. The gazes of his friends, unaccustomed to hearing such contempt in his voice, weighed on him.
"Well, now, you got something to say, Jojo?"
Seeing Pape Moussa's expression, on the verge of exploding, Jojo realized in a split second that he had two options: defend his ideals and face the inevitable fight that would follow, or get out of the situation by playing dumb, which he was very good at. Normally, he would have chosen the second option; he hated fighting and always preferred to avoid provoking more than necessary. But… he couldn't do it.
Of all days, today was the worst to make him angry, especially if it meant bringing up Yeumbeul to do it.
Is he deliberately acting like a fucking asshole? What does he know?
A familiar sensation began to rise within him. It felt like his brain was fogged with heat as an intoxicating sense of power surged through him.
Does he think he can get away with anything? Does he think he's in a position to make threats? Just because he's the strongest? Is that really how he wants to play it?
Then… why not play that game with him?
His heart suddenly pounded, as if he were finally, fully tasting life. His body heated up, his mind began to dangerously empty, and a strange but dangerous feeling was born within him. He felt it, both terrifying and comforting. The answer was clear in his mind, pushed back by his heart but impossible to ignore in that moment.
That feeling…
It was the feeling of power.
Just one step, just one move, and he could erase everything that bothered him. His hand twitched, his gaze settling on his future target. Then…
Pape Moussa's bored, contemptuous look overlapped with another one in his mind…
The tension vanished.
It all happened in a single second, a terrible second, just one second. In that brief moment, Jojo's intent transformed, and he turned away.
"I'm out of here," he muttered, heading toward the cul-de-sac's exit.
"That's all you've got to say?"
"Listen, Pape Moussa, do whatever you want. Stay here, go to the ceremony, I don't give a damn. But if staying with you means listening to you talk about Yeumbeul, I'd rather leave."
Pape Moussa fell silent, his blurred expression slowly widening with the realization of why Jojo was acting this way.
"Uh—right," he stammered, a look of regret on his face. "Listen, I…"
"It's fine," Jojo cut him off without turning back. "Alright, I'm outta here…"
"Jojo, hey, wait!" Daniel's voice called out from behind, but Jojo didn't stop.
He quickly turned left and sprinted with all his strength, the hot sand biting at his bare feet. The houses passed by in a blur, and, more by instinct than anything else, he dodged every passerby he encountered, most of whom were familiar.
"Jojo? Where are you going like that?" Madame Mbacké asked as he barreled onto the paved road, barefoot no less.
But Jojo didn't stop; he kept running despite the pain from the small pebbles scattered across the broken pavement. He ran over sand, stones, and pavement, weaving through streets and alleys, left then right, in an erratic pattern devoid of logic. Then, after a good ten minutes, he stopped, out of breath. Dazed, he realized he'd ended up at the gates of the spice market, right on the paved road at the exit of MTOA. The traffic of cars and pedestrians was as crowded as usual, bustling with an almost comforting cacophony.
Jojo, panting, turned away from the road and collapsed at the tiled base of a closed money transfer shop, lying in the shade of a tarp. A sense of emptiness overwhelmed him.
"I almost used my sembou," the young boy muttered to himself.
And as his gaze fixed on the hazy sky, so blurry he could barely make out the shape of the clouds, he thought he saw golden streaks shimmering and stretching across it.
The branches of Gouy-gui, the sacred baobab that protected all of Senegal…
"Seriously," Jojo said bitterly, "how did it come to this? What is this incomprehensible world?"