Free A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park Page A

You must not go."
    There was so much more to talk about. His father told Salva that his sisters were with his mother. But of his three brothers, only Ring had survived the war. Ariik, the oldest, and Kuol, the youngest, were both dead.
    Little Kuol...
Salva closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to picture his brothers through a haze of time and grief.
    He learned more about his father's illness. Years of drinking contaminated water had left Mawien Dut's entire digestive system riddled with guinea worms. Sick and weak, he had walked almost three hundred miles to come to this clinic, and was barely alive by the time he finally arrived.

    Salva and his father had several days together. But all too soon, it was time for Salva to return to America. His father would be leaving the clinic shortly as well. The surgery he had undergone had been successful, and he would soon be strong enough to make the long walk home.
    "I will come to the village" Salva promised, "as soon as it is safe."
    "We will be there waiting for you" his father promised in turn.
    Salva pressed his face tightly to his father's as they hugged goodbye, their tears flowing and blending together.

    On the plane back to the United States, Salva replayed in his mind every moment of his visit with his father. He felt again the coolness on his brow when his father had sprinkled the water blessing on him.
    And an idea came to him—an idea of what he might be able to do to help the people of Sudan.
    Could he do it? It would take so much work! Perhaps it would be too difficult. But how would he know unless he tried?
    Back in Rochester, Salva began working on his idea. There were, it seemed, a million problems to be solved. He needed a lot of help. Chris and Louise gave him many suggestions. Scott, a friend of theirs, was an expert in setting up projects like the one Salva had in mind. He and Salva worked together for hours and days ... which grew into weeks and months.
    Along the way, Salva met other people who wanted to help. He was grateful to all of them. But even with their help, it was much more work than he had imagined.
    Salva had to raise money for the project. And there was only one way to do this: He would have to talk to people and ask them to give money.
    The first time Salva spoke in front of an audience was in a school cafeteria. About a hundred people had come to hear him. There was a microphone at the front of the room. Salva's knees were shaking as he walked to the mike. He knew that his English was still not very good. What if he made mistakes in pronunciation? What if the audience couldn't understand him?
    But he had to do it. If he didn't talk about the project, no one would learn about it. No one would donate money, and he would never be able to make it work.
    Salva spoke into the microphone. "H-h-hello"' he said.
    At that moment, something went wrong with the sound system. The speakers behind him let out a dreadful screech. Salva jumped and almost dropped the mike.
    His hands trembling, he looked out at the audience. People were smiling or chuckling; a few of the children were holding their ears. They all looked very friendly, and seeing the children made him remember: It was not the first time he had spoken in front of a large group of people.
    Years before, when he was leading those boys on their walk from the Ethiopian refugee camp to the one in Kenya, he had called a meeting every morning and evening. The boys would line up facing him and he would talk to them about their plans.
    All those eyes looking at him ... but every face interested in what he had to say. It was the same here. The audience had come to the school cafeteria because they wanted to hear him. Thinking of that made him feel a little better, and he spoke into the mike again.
    "Hello" he repeated, and this time only his own voice came from the speakers. He smiled in relief and went on. "I am here to talk to you about a project for southern Sudan."

    A year passed, then two ...