Today our third day on the road

Today, our third day on the road, I walk with a little more bounce in my step. In Phnom Penh, the soldiers had said we could return home after three days.The soldiers told us we had to leave because the United States was going‘ to bomb our city. But I have not seen any planes in the sky and have heard no bombs dropped. It is strange to me that they made us leave just so we can turn back and go home after three days. I Smile at the silly picture of us marching like black ants coming to a stop at the end of the day only to head back home. I do not understand, but I guess three days is how long it takes for them to clean the city.  “Pa, will we go home soon? The soldiers said we can return home after three days." I tug at Pa’s pants. It is afternoon and we are not even slowing down yet.  “Maybe, but meanwhile, we have to walk.”  “But Pa, this is the third day. Are we going to turn around and walk back home now?”  “No, we have to keep walking,” Pa says sadly. Reluctantly, I do what Pa tells me. Everybody has to carry something, so I pick the smallest item in the pile, the rice pot. As I walk, the pot becomes heavier and heavier in my hands as the sun climbs higher and higher in the sky. The metal handle digs and burns the palms of my hands. Sometimes I carry it with two hands in front of me, other times I switch the pot from my  right to my left arm, but it seems no matter how I carry it the pot painfully bangs into some part of my leg. It is evening now and I am losing hope that we can go home tonight. Tired and hungry, I drag my feet, taking smaller and smaller steps until I am far behind everyone else.  “Pa, I’m very hungry and my feet hurt,” I yell to him.  “You can’t eat now. We have very little food left and we need to ration it because we have a long way to go.”  “I don’t know why we have to save it!” I stand still in the road, letting $0’ Of the rice pot to wipe dirt and tears from my cheeks. “Our three days :'(:1r1n5e0”<>;hbe over. We can return home. Let’s just go home. I want to go  - e words somehow come out between halting sobs. My forty- Pound body refuses to walk any more. The red dust fiom the road and the 31:1: ::11d11i1t:fi>o:y has mixed to create a layer of n;ud on my skin making the pot She is Y- 21 walks over to Keav and takes a all of sticky rice out of  C31'I'y1ng.He comes over to me and hands me the food. My