To Arnold's surprise, Mafala approaches the missionary's table at breakfast that morning, with Gotswana and the General on either side. Arnold glances at his tie, sees it's crooked, and quickly straightens it. Beside him, Nabulungi blinks, then murmurs, "Oh," as if she's just remembered something.
"HE—" Arnold clears his throat, "Hello, Elder Hatimbi."
Mafala says, "Unfortunately, we need the jeeps today. The church must take the bus to Yunna."
That means a four-and-a-half hour trip instead of three. Rob McKinley keeps whatever he's feeling out of his voice when he asks, "What do you need the jeeps for? Anything we can help with?"
"Baba must have received a reply to our letter from the Red Cross this morning," Nabulungi explains. Mafala hands the letter to Rob, who reads it. "They will be delivering medicine to us. We will need the jeeps for to take the medicine from the drop-off point to our village."
"That's great!" Arnold whoops, and everyone else at the table nods or says something in agreement. "But why do you need all the jeeps?"
"Because," Rob says, "it says here you're receiving medicine for two-hundred people." There definitely are not two-hundred villagers in Kigali.
"We had that many at one time," Gotswana says easily.
"Doesn't that sound a tiny," Rob holds his thumb and fore-finger barely an inch apart, "tiny bit like fraud?"
"We will give excess medicine to other villages," says Nabulungi. "Completely free, of course! And non-believers will be treated as equally as those who follow the Book of Arnold. It will be great exposure for the church."
Arnold doesn't remember agreeing to this exactly when he helped Nabulungi with their letter to the Red Cross. Then again, it had pretty much been her project. And he can't say he disagrees.
"The Red Cross has enough medicine to save everyone here a million times over," Arnold says. Maybe he was wrong about her being a Gryffindor. There's a little bit of Slytherin in her after all—like with Harry Potter himself, actually.
"Well...I guess..." Rob mutters.
"What's wrong, Elder Hatimbi?" Kevin asks. "Isn't this happy news?"
It's then that Arnold tunes in to the fact that only the ex-Mormons are smiling.
"You must understand," says Nabulungi, "out here, a Red Cross truck is a target. Warlords will steal medicine and force villagers to join their armies in exchange for it."
Glowering at the General, Gotswana adds, "Or force villagers to give their wives and daughters to the warlord's men to be raped."
The General avoids Gotswana's gaze. Mafala puts a hand on Gotswana's shoulder and murmurs something calming in their dialect of Swahili. Arnold shifts uneasily in his seat. The General has been a great help, and seems really remorseful for his past behaviour, but every now and then there's a reminder that he's done some really horrible things.
"So," Nabulungi says quickly, "we would appreciate your prayers for the men's safety."
"Of course—it's the least we can do!" says Rob as he stands. At his signal, everyone else stands too. Conversations from the villagers fall to a few stray murmurs.
"I'd like to pray for the safety of everyone going to get medicine from the Red Cross," says Rob in a loud, clear voice. "Let us bow our heads."
Arnold prays, but part of his mind is on something Rob said: This is exactly the least we can do.
They finish breakfast and go outside into a bright, humid day without a cloud in the sky. Most of the villagers are gathered around the jeeps, talking worriedly to each other, men embracing wives and children, friends embracing friends. Arnold follows Nabulungi as she rushes to her father's side and throws her arms around him.
"May the Force be with you that you may live long and prosper, Baba," she murmurs into his chest.
Mafala squeezes her tightly, stroking her hair. She pulls away after a few moments, wiping at her eyes. Mafala smiles down at her.
Arnold says, "Good luck, sir!" and watches that smile become a frown and a short nod.
"Elder Price?"
He turns behind him to see Kevin staring at the villagers, as pale as he was before four months of Ugandan sun, and Rob snapping his fingers in front of his face. Kevin's gaze doesn't flicker from the villagers for an instant. Arnold shares a confused and concerned glance with Nabulungi before they go to Kevin's side.
"Buddy...?" Arnold says, grabbing his friend's wrist. His pulse is fast and light.
Faintly, Kevin says, "Guns."
"What?"
Kevin claws at the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. "Guns. There." He jabs a finger at the back of the nearest jeep, which is a mess of tarp and blankets. Arnold frowns worriedly at Kevin.
"I know what they look like from—" Kevin gulps "—from the the General's camp."
"The General gave up his guns," Rob says soothingly. "We all saw him. We buried his ammo clips, remember?"
"Pal," Arnold says quietly, "I know you know our friends wouldn't do that." He glances back at the jeeps, seeing the General and his two lieutenants on one, seeing the lumps underneath the tarp that could easily be mistaken for guns by someone who has such awful memories of those three men.
"I remember the shape!" Kevin shouts, so suddenly and forcefully that Arnold backs up, blinking. Most of the villagers turn to stare at him; most of the ex-Mormons already are staring. Kevin notices this, gulps, and focuses solely on Arnold.
Poor guy! Arnold squeezes Kevin's shoulder before moving toward the jeeps, saying, "I'll prove they're not, okay?"
Kevin staggers back, mumbling, "Gotta go—" and bolts for the Kigali café. Without thinking, Arnold begins to follow, then stops himself. He feels guilty leaving without explaining Kevin's accusations to the villagers.
Rob nods to Arnold. "I'll handle this, Elder Cunningham—go to him."
"Thanks!" Arnold says, and follows his companion into the café, only to come up short when Kevin slams the bathroom door in his face and locks it.
"I'm here if you need me, pal," says Arnold over the sounds of Kevin gagging. Arnold winces.
For a few moments, Kevin pants for breath. Sister Kimbay is watching him from behind the counter, looking a mixture of concerned and embarrassed. She turns away when she notices Arnold watching her and starts making some coffee.
"You don't have to come with us to Yunna today," Arnold says, glancing at the jeeps the villagers and missionaries. Rob is speaking to Mafala, everyone calm and relaxed.
That is, Arnold thinks suddenly, if all of us go to Yunna.
"I'm good," Kevin says. "Just," he gives a strained laugh, "wow, hot outside today, huh? Think that was almost a heat stroke." Another weird laugh.
Oh. That's how Kevin wants to play it. Arnold makes himself chuckle. "Yeah, sure."
From the bathroom comes the creak-and-gurgle of old pipes and a fitful, inconstant spurt of water as Kevin splashes his face. Arnold listens to his breathing slow over the sound of Sister Kimbay steaming some milk. He thinks back to all the times he hid from his bullies in the school bathroom—times he wished he would have had a friend. When Kevin unlocks the door and steps out, his hair slightly damp, Arnold envelops him in a tight hug.
Kevin sighs. "C'mon, stop it," he grumbles, trying to push Arnold away.
"Nope. Not until I get a return hug."
"Elder Cunningham..."
"Still no."
Another sigh, and Kevin hugs him back, thumping him on the shoulder as he does so. "There, happy?" Kevin snaps—but there's a hint of a smile on his lips. Arnold grins and lets him go.
"Elder Price," says Sister Kimbay. Arnold turns to see her leaving the counter with a cup of Kevin's favourite latte in her hand. She offers it to him. At Kevin's surprise, she says, "It is policy to give a free drink to anyone having a heat stroke." She nods in the direction of the jeeps. "You are hardly the first to have one."
"Thank you," Kevin says, with a small-but-growing smile. As he takes it, his fingers brush against Sister Kimbay's, and they both look uncomfortable. "But I really should pay," Kevin says as he slips his backpack off his shoulders and digs around for his wallet.
"You do not have—"
"Then it's a tip." Kevin finds his wallet, pulls out a bunch of bills and hands them out to her. Sister Kimbay's eyebrows rise—from what Arnold can see, there are quite a few tens. She eyes Kevin a moment and, when he doesn't retract his hand, takes the money with a small shrug and a grin.
"If I had known this was how you treated your ex-girlfriends, I would have made you dump me much sooner."
"Nothing you did made me—" Kevin says earnestly. He suddenly glances at Arnold, his cheeks flushing pink.
It takes Arnold a moment to work out what's going on. "Oh! Um, I'm going to...you know...outside..." He leaves as quickly as he can. From what he can see, Sister Kimbay and Kevin start talking after he leaves.
What he hears is some commotion going on. Rob, Mafala, Nabulungi, Eric and the General are talking loudly—and some are talking angrily—over everyone else.
"—Heavenly Father's green earth were you thinking—"
"—Baba, you promised—"
"—the General misspoke—"
"—congregations are supposed to trust each other—"
"Um, hey," Arnold interrupts, waving awkwardly. "What's going on?" He glances at Nabulungi, who looks at him worriedly.
"Elder Price was right," Rob says, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at the villagers.
Arnold starts. "Oh!" Nabulungi's expression doesn't change. Did she know about this?
"Guns without bullets," adds Mafala. "The guns will be just for show, to warn away looters and warlords. We will not even reveal them unless we see someone moving in to attack."
Mafala says, "Does it not say in the Book, 'at times, evil shalt triumph because good is dumb'?"
Arnold hopes he hides his uneasiness well. Does it say that? Just as he relies on Nabulungi and Mafala to help him apply his stories to the rural Ugandan way of life, he relies on Kevin to be the big picture guy. He can't really remember the last time he's read the book that bears his name cover to cover.
"How did Mel Brooks get in our religion?" Brian Church grumbles.
"Um..." Arnold mumbles, "I think God might've meant something like 'God helps those who help themselves'." He stands up a bit straighter, gaining confidence. "Which He does. I don't really see what's so bad about having unloaded guns." He glances at Nabulungi, whose expression relaxes into a small smile, and his heart swells with love.
"If they're unloaded," Elder Michaels says. Ignoring Rob's 'cut it out!' gesture, he continues with, "Maybe we need to check where we buried the bullets and find out. You buried them with us, after all," he says to Mafala. "You know where it is."
Mutumbo glares at Elder Michaels. "So what if the guns are loaded? You want to lecture us about what we need to do to survive in our country, white boy?"
"WOAH!" Arnold bellows, holding his hands out. "Wooaaah. Okay. Nobody's lecturing anybody. I think Elder Michaels is just a bit hurt that you decided not to tell us what you were really planning." He glances at Nabulungi, who winces in pain (or is that guilt?), then he wishes he hadn't. This isn't about him and her; he needs to focus. "We're a congregation. That's kind of like being a family, and that means sharing everything. I mean, we would've been cool with it."
A story pops into his head; before he even knows where it's going, it's spilling out of his mouth. "Even the thirteenth disciple, the Doctor, knew he could use his reputation to prevent a fight. When warlords and looters were gonna attack him and Jesus on the road to Damascus because Jesus was carrying the Holy Grail, the Doctor shouted, 'This is Jesus, the oncoming storm! The lonely God! He took out Sauron, Shai'tan and the Thread! You think he can't handle you little men?' And everyone stood aside and let them pass. Jesus didn't even have to Vulcan nerve-pinch anybody!
"And, if you need any extra protection...I could join you guys."
"What?" says Mafala over the approving murmurs of most of the other villagers.
"Arnold!" Nabulungi blurts out, frowning in worry.
"Are you sure you know what you risk, prophet?" Mafala asks.
Arnold nods, straightening his shoulders. "The same thing as you guys." For the first time in a long time, Mafala isn't frowning at him.
Behind Arnold, Rob laughs nervously. "Elder Cunningham, I think maybe we need you in Yunna a lot more—"
Nabulungi puts her hand on Arnold's shoulder. His "I don't see why," is subdued as he looks into her eyes and wills her to understand that he needs to do this.
She shakes her head, her lips pursed tight. She's getting angry; his pulse leaps in fear.
"Nabulungi, child," says Sister Damisi, "the prophet protected us from General Butt-Fucking Naked. Why should God fail us now?"
Nabulungi doesn't even glance her way. "Please," she whispers fiercely, "go to Yunna. Please."
He nods, begins to say "Okay," then stops himself. "I...can't."
"Can't what?" comes Kevin's voice behind him, and Arnold's stomach sinks.
Nabulungi tersely explains the situation to him—the second she finishes, he exclaims, "No. No way."
"Yes way! God hath revealed unto me that I should help my brethren and do as they do!"
Something about the wording makes Kevin pale and open his mouth to speak. Glancing at the villagers behind him, he changes whatever he was going to say to, "Elder Cunningham, a word?"
"With you in a sec, guys," Arnold tells Mafala over his shoulder as Kevin leads him off—and Nabulungi follows.
Kevin's eyes narrow slightly at her. "I'm sorry, Sister Hatimbi. I meant in private."
"I think we want a word on the same subject, Elder Price," she says, with a small smile that vanishes when she looks back at Arnold.
Arnold can't speak when she's staring at him like that. He wants to take it all back. He makes himself look back at the jeeps; at the men of the village, butchers and shop-keepers and doctors, ready to brave danger; at Mafala, who watches the three of them thoughtfully.
"Buddy," says Kevin, "if God's telling you to do something this stupid, then that's probably not God talking!"
"So Elder Hatimbi is being stupid?" Arnold says.
"That's different and you know it."
"Arnold, you have brought so much joy and hope to this village. How would the church survive if...if something happened to you?"
"Guys, this is like a Klingon's Rite of Ascension! Or, on Avatar: The Last Airbender, when Sokka went ice dodging...It's a really great show, by the way; I'd totally recommend it. I—" Seeing their blank stares, he abandons that point. "I'm tired of not being able to help people." He frowns, thinking of how none of his prayers have helped Brian Church's mom, or kept Brian from leaving the Church of Arnold. "I can help my friends—my family, since Mafala is going to be my dad—by going with them. You heard them! A lot of 'em really seemed to like the idea of me coming!"
"Because they think God speaks to you!" Nabulungi protests. "They do not know you are just a man! You know—"
"I know," Arnold says gently, "that I can't do anything less than your father and the rest of the men in the village."
"We have to go, Elder Cunningham!" calls Mafala from the jeeps. Everyone is already loaded in. It looks like there's just room enough for him.
Spiderman sagely whispers in Arnold's ear, "With great power comes great responsibility," while Captain Hammer sings, "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do..." Arnold gulps and steels himself.
"Pray for me?" he asks Nabulungi. When she nods, her gaze terrifyingly distant, he kisses her. She grabs his tie and kisses him back so hard he's breathless by the time they break apart. Seeing Kevin's miserable, frustrated expression, Arnold has the sudden, wild urge to kiss Kevin, too—he settles for a hug.
Arnold gets in the same jeep as Mafala and the General, and the convoy heads off. They go from paved roads to gravel, which soon fades to just tire tracks in the dirt. Mafala is navigating. Arnold tries to be like Kevin or Nabulungi and have a conversation with him, but can't get much more out of him than where the drop-off site is. Mutumbo's jeep seems to be constantly laughing as he reels off joke after joke that Arnold can't quite hear over the roar of wind in his ears. Arnold wishes he could make Mafala laugh.
Arnold scans the horizon for cars, pretending he's in the Mako from the Mass Effect series, scanning for geth. Of course, the Mako is an armoured tank with a machine-gun and a giant cannon, not a jeep with machine-guns that might not even have bullets. What I wouldn't give for Lieutenant Ashley on this mission!
They reach the drop-off site an uneventful hour-and-a-half later. It's a small shock to see the unknown white face of the Red Cross worker—in the jeep are two locals with guns proudly displayed. Mafala presents the letter and other paperwork; everything seems to be in order and everything gets loaded up. Arnold tries to help, but the village men are able to lift the big, heavy boxes, while he can only pick up the light ones. Nobody says anything, but he feels judged and found wanting anyway.
On the ride back, Arnold starts trying to come up with something clever or awesome to say to Mafala. He doesn't get very far. Twenty minutes into their drive, Mafala hisses, "Shit!" Arnold follows his gaze to see a collection of trucks and jeeps in the distance, fading in and out due to the waves of heat on the horizon. "Get the guns out!" Mafala orders.
Everything is a flurry of movement. Arnold sits, gawping. I should've told Mom and Dad I love them. I WAS JUST IN YUNNA YESTERDAY! WHY DIDN'T I DO THAT?
Mafala interrupts his thoughts by handing him a gun. Arnold stares at it, shaking his head before he realizes what he's doing and stops. "I...I don't think...um, thank you, but..."
"All right," Mafala says, nodding, his gaze going to the oncoming group. Arnold tries to count how many trucks and jeeps he sees, but fear keeps making him lose track and start over. They certainly seem to have more than the church does, that's for sure.
Glancing at Arnold, Mafala hisses out of the side of his mouth, "We could use your prayers, prophet!"
"OH! RIGHT!" Arnold clasps his hands together and bows his head. "Uh, Heavenly Father..."
He squeezes his eyes shut and wracks his brain frantically—but Pinkie Pie is singing about giggling at the ghostie, Xander is joking, Merry and Pippin are worried about elevenses, and everybody is trying to distract him but being completely unhelpful. Sansa Stark helps him, whispering, "Gentle Mother, font of mercy..."
"Heavenly Father, font of mercy, save us all from war we pray. Stay the...uh, guns and...the bullets and teach us all a kinder way..."
He waits, but Sansa shrugs at him. "It's not my fault," she says, "that you don't remember my chapters that well. Oh, I know I'm not as exciting as Arya, but—" The sound of engines are coming closer.
NEXT!
Gandalf steps up and suddenly, Arnold knows what he's going to say. "And if any of us do, uh, get hurt, help us remember that death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise."
Arnold opens his eye a crack. Nobody seems to be listening to him. He breathes a sigh of relief.
There are two jeeps and five trucks to their three. An older man steps out of a truck, a do-rag tied to his head, an AK-47 in his hands. His gun pointed at Mafala, he shouts something in Swahili that is definitely an order. Mafala replies calmly; the raiders look surprised. The two men keep talking.
Arnold starts to feel like an NPC next to Mafala's PC. If only he could understand what they were saying... He steps toward Gotswana, whispering, "What's he—?"
Suddenly, the leader shouts and points his gun at Arnold. Arnold always assumed his life would flash before his eyes in a life-or-death situation, but it doesn't. He tries, but he can't remember his parents' faces—not even Nabulungi's or Kevin's. His whole world is the muzzle of that gun.
Mafala mutters, "He says to stay still, prophet."
Somebody whimpers. Arnold likes to think such a pathetic sound wouldn't come from his throat, but it probably did.
After a few more minutes of cautious words and wary glances, Mafala has Elder Ghali and Mutumbo go to the back of their jeep and unload some of the boxes of supplies. Slowly and carefully, they move toward the raiders and set them on the ground. The leader of the raiders orders one of his men forward—he opens the box, showing off small bottles of pills. There are some more confused murmurs from the raiders. Arnold starts feeling guilty for thinking of them as "raiders"—they're villagers, just like the villagers of Kigali. They're just doing what they have to do to survive.
Mafala speaks again, calmly and purposefully, and Arnold finds himself listening to to every word despite having no idea what he's saying. Mafala gestures to Kigali as he finishes. The leader's face twists suddenly into a sneer as many of the men beside him recoil in shock or surprise. Their leader speaks, his voice hard and cold as ice as he points at the General, who shifts uncomfortably by Mafala's side. The General says a few words, but he's drowned out by jeers and shouts. The hairs on the back of Arnold's neck jerk upright at the anger on their faces.
Once again, Mafala steps in and speaks. This time, the other villagers have much less patience for him, though they seem to calm down. The men take the boxes. The leader and Mafala talk a little while longer, then he and his men drive off. Arnold finds himself sitting, though he can't remember telling his body to do so.
"We should get moving," Mafala says, to general murmurs of agreement.
"So...what happened?" Arnold asks.
There's an uncomfortable pause before Mafala says, "We paid them a toll. They will not be visiting us in Kigali."
It doesn't seem that Mafala is going to say anything else. Gotswana is closest to him; Arnold leans in and whispers, "Why'd they get angry at Kigali?"
Gotswana shakes his head, his lips pursed. "Not Kigali. Mafala suggested they visit our church, but they do not want to belong to any church that has General Butt-Fucking Naked as a member."
"Oh," Arnold murmurs. He'd never thought of that before.
"Who can blame them?" Gotswana says with a shrug.
"He's changed now!"
"That does not erase what he did," Gotswana says, loudly enough that he's sure Mafala and the General can hear. The muscles on the General's back tighten beneath his dingy wife-beater.
"You have something to say, General?" Gotswana snaps.
The General is so quiet that Arnold has to strain to hear him. "Only that I try to live in the light of Christ Jesus, Elder Hareffi. I was blind but now I see, as Geordi said to Jesus."
Hmm—that's a little insensitive to Geordi—it's sorta like he can't be awesome if he can't see. Maybe I should re-write that one... Realizing that Gotswana is speaking, Arnold forces himself to listen.
"...keep it that way, you—"
"Enough!" says Mafala. Glowering at Mafala, Gotswana stops talking.
Arnold wishes he knew what to say. With the loving, caring congregation around him, sometimes it's easy to forget that he's come to a place with so many wounds and so few ways to heal them. But we'll try.
The drive back is uneventful except for seeing a pride of lions far in the distance. Gotswana chuckles indulgently when Arnold points them out—they're as interesting to the villagers as the stay dogs in Yunna. As they drive past the empty mission, Mafala turns to look at Arnold.
"Thank you for coming, prophet," he says, without the coolness that's become commonplace between them.
Arnold grins. "You're welcome, sir!"
People stream from the village toward the jeeps, pale ex-Mormons among the dark villagers, almost everyone singing and clapping. They stop as families rush forward to greet their loved ones. Nabulungi and Kevin are running toward Mafala's jeep. Arnold scrambles to the ground, arms open to receive his fiancée.
Only he receives Kevin instead, who nearly knocks Arnold off his feet. Nabulungi holds her father close, murmuring in Swahili as he bends down and they rest their foreheads together. Kevin, meanwhile, is laughing wildly as he crushes Arnold's ribs.
"HI, PAL!" Arnold says. "WE—"
Kevin's frantically murmured, "I'm so sorry," makes him lose his train of thought completely.
"Huh?"
He can feel a cough—no, a sob?—hitch Kevin's breathing. "You won't do something like this alone next time. I just...with the General...I couldn't... But I'll be better! I know I will! Heavenly Father, I'm just so glad you're safe! We prayed, we all held hands and prayed so hard, but I just kept thinking 'Is there really someone listening? Is there?'"
Arnold's never heard Kevin sound so familiar—like me when I'm really into something, he realizes. It's weird. His freakout about the General earlier today must've really shaken him up!
"BUDDY!" Arnold interrupts. "God needed me there and you here! It's like when Adama had to leave the civilians on New Caprica when—" he can just imagine Kevin's eyes glazing over "—um, I mean—"
Acting on a sudden, blind impulse, he pulls out of the hug just enough to see Kevin's intense expression and the tears that waver in his eyes before Kevin glances away, trying to hide them. His tie is as sloppy as Arnold's is usually, and his hair is so tousled it's as if his morning hairspray routine hadn't happened.
Arnold begins to speak, but he has no idea what to say. He glances over at Mafala and Nabulungi, daughter and father hugging each other and talking as if all the fights of the past few days were erased, easy with each other as two people who love each other should be.
"GOD LOVES YOU, ELDER PRICE!" Arnold blares into Kevin's face, so loud that Kevin winces.
"Really, mate?" snarks Spike from Buffy, "'God'? Is that a nickname for 'Arnold,' now?" Arnold blushes, and of course he glances over and sees Nabulungi and Mafala watching him, and whatever he was going to say vanishes.
Kevin sees where he's looking, and drops his arms from their very-enjoyable position around Arnold's back and shoulders. "I should let you three—"
But then Nabulungi shouts "Group hug!" Arnold has no time to tell her how twitchy Kevin can get about touching. All three of them hug, arms squeezing tight, bodies smushed together. Kevin looks surprised and awkward, and glances Nabulungi, who beams at him as tears roll down her face. They keep communicating silently, but Arnold can't follow the exchange of eyebrow twitches, mouth movements and glances, because a Darth Vader-deep voice booms, I want this—their flesh on my flesh, their breath on my skin, their smells in my nose...
Shut up, brain, Arnold tells himself. He's getting more than he deserves already.
Kevin breaks the hug first, turning away with a slightly stilted, "Glad to have you back, Elder Cunningham." He quickly wipes at his eyes as he walks away.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of congratulations, singing, prayers, and recounting the story of their mission. Arnold notices that the General leaves the village quickly, but Mafala follows him. He can't tell if the two men speak, or what they say if they do speak, but he hopes they're both guided by Christ. The ex-Mormons eventually return back to the mission to get dinner started. An hour into it, Nabulungi interrupts Arnold as he cuts up some yams and asks to talk to him. She doesn't appear happy.
Arnold's hands are sweaty as he half-opens the door to his and Kevin's room. "Um, so, what's up?"
Nabulungi can't look at him as she fiddles with her tie. "I begged you!" she blurts out, her gaze suddenly locking on his. Her expression is angrier than he's ever seen it. "I begged you—in front of the entire village—and you still went!
"Elder Price told me what Klingons are!" she snaps. "They're from a TV show. But life is not a show! Death is everywhere here. I wish I could help you understand that." She snorts. "And now Baba thinks your foolishness is bravery."
"That's great! That's...that's what I wanted."
"So?" she hisses. "You still could have died, Arnold. That is the point."
"Look," Arnold says soothingly, "in the Book of Arnold, it says 'Today is all that matters.' Not the past." He stops talking at the sheer contempt that tightens her face.
"You are not going to use your book to get out of this, Arnold Cunningham! How dare you!"
She's figured out how useless he is. A horrible thought occurs, and it's been too long a day to keep it inside: "Do you want to call it off?"
"What?"
"The wedding."
Her lips part for a few seconds, but she doesn't say anything. When she does, the words explode out of her. "There you go again! You did the same thing when I told you my worries about leaving Baba and my home the other day. Your book also tells us not to keep our feelings hidden—yet whenever I am upset or angry, you try to make me feel guilty. That is not right, Arnold!"
That's what she thinks? "Oh, no, no, no!" he yelps, panicked. "Nabulungi, that's not why I said that!"
"Then why?"
"BECAUSE OF COURSE YOU'LL LEAVE ME!" Nabulungi recoils in surprise as the words keep spilling out of him. "MY FRIENDS ALL LEFT ME, MY OWN DAD WON'T TALK TO ME, I'M A FAT NERD, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, AND IF KEVIN EVER WANTED—"
Nabulungi closes the door behind her before he can finish that sentence. A sickening, chilly wave rolls beneath his skin—Kevin was playing Monopoly in the break room with Brian Church, Eric Thomas and Mason Neeley, and could've easily heard that. Arnold plops onto his bed, breathing heavily.
Nabulungi sits beside him and throws her arms around him. "I love you," she whispers. "I love you so much." He holds her, and they don't say anything for a while, until Arnold can breathe normally and his heart-rate slows.
"I did not know you felt that way," Nabulungi murmurs. "I should have known you were not trying to shame me for feeling angry. That is not your way. Yelling and behaving like a crazy woman is not my way, either, and I am sorry I let you see that. You did what God was telling you to do and it worked, and that is all."
Arnold never wants to see her like that again, and opens his mouth to say 'Thank you,' but Lee Adama gives him a disapproving look and notes, "Do you know how many problems Kara and I could've solved if we'd just talked to each other about our feelings?" A whole host of other TV and book couples nod their heads in agreement behind him.
"If you feel something," he says, "I want to know it."
Nabulungi inhales deeply. "I am still a bit mad," she says tentatively. "I cannot help that. I am sorry." Arnold kisses her on her temple since he can't think of anything to say. She smiles slightly.
"I am also mad at Baba, too," she adds. "I begged him for days to accept you. I cried. We said such things..." She swallows, then shakes her head, as if putting away bad memories. "I wanted to be the one to convince him of your worth, not you. So I am angry with you and happy for you both."
"One person can't feel that much!" Ron Weasley exclaims. "They'd explode." Amen, brother.
"Are you sure you will still have me?" she teases.
"Well, I'll think about it." The two giggle and kiss before Arnold returns to chopping yams.
At dinner, the General and his lieutenants sit where they always do, though they seem subdued. So does Kevin, but at least he doesn't treat Arnold any differently, which means, hopefully, he missed Arnold's rant. And, most importantly, Mafala greets him with a hearty, "Hello, prophet!"
"Hi, sir!"
"I wanted you to know," he says, loudly enough for the dining hall to hear, "that I will give you my blessing to marry my precious daughter."
"LL&P!" and "Amen!" say most of the villagers; the ex-Mormons applaud. Rob McKinley puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly.
Mafala is proud of me. The sentence buzzes in his brain, becoming a shout, becoming a roar. Even as a tiny voice whispers, Be cool, Arnold, he pulls Mafala into a hug and bellows, "THANKS, DAD!"
Mafala laughs, thumping his back. "You are so weird, you crazy prophet-man!" he says fondly, to the laughter of some of the crowd. He even pulls Arnold in tighter, which makes Arnold grin so hard his cheeks hurt.
"If you hurt her," Mafala whispers in his ear, "I will give you my AIDS, prophet or not."
Even that can't bring him down. "Sure thing, Dad."