Yeny and the Children for Peace by Michelle Mulder Page A

curtain aside. Though the sun was barely up, the concrete floor of the living room was already cleared. Her parents had pushed back their own green curtain and leaned their mattress against the wall. They had made neat piles of their clothing in one corner, so that people could walk freely to the five chairs around the little television.
    Across the room, the whole family had gathered for break-fast, and Yeny could smell fried
arepas
, the crispy corn pancakes that that she loved. Her stomach growled. She smiled at Juan.

    â€œWe’ll do history first,” he said. “We always do that first thing on Monday mornings.”
    Yeny groaned, but only because she knew that her cousin expected it. Secretly, she didn’t care what they studied that day, as long as she got to spend time with Juan and meet other kids. Often, she wished she could go back in time, to August, before the men with guns had come to her village. Her mother said that it did no good to think that way, though, so Yeny was trying to forget the past and to start a new life. A safe, city life.
    But she missed her best friend, Maria Cristina. Before she left home, her friend had told her that once she was in the city, Yeny should try to have as many adventures as possible. María Cristina wanted to hear about every detail of Yeny’s new life the next time they met. Whenever that would be.
    At least it wasn’t hard to find excitement. Here, everything was different from what Yeny was used to. At home, she’d shared a one-room wooden house with her parents, her sister Elena, and her younger brother, Carlitos. It had a dirt floor, and a metal roof that made a wonderful racket when it rained. When it wasn’t raining, they spent most of their time outside. Mamá cut up vegetables and meat on the big chopping table next to the house and cooked over a fire close by. The washtub was outside too, and the garden, and the chair that her father sat in when he got back from the fields and wanted to relax.

    This city house was made of concrete and had the kitchen indoors. The only thing anyone did outside was the washing. From this house, Yeny couldn’t hear the chirping of cicadas, the grunts of pigs, the clucking of chickens, or the sound of the wind. Instead she heard street vendors shouting about what they were selling—peas, arepas, juice, radios, lottery tickets—and the blare of car horns. It was hotter here, too, than it was in the mountains, and even the food was new.
    â€œAre two arepas enough for you, dear?” Yeny’s aunt slid two corn pancakes from the frying pan onto Yeny’s blue plastic plate. The hot, toasty smell made Yeny’s mouth water, and she could hardly wait to sink her teeth through the crusty surface into the soft, hot middle. “We make them with cheese inside,” Aunt Nelly said, “so they’ll taste different from the pure corn ones that you’re used to, but I’m sure you’ll like them. We have plenty, so don’t be shy.”
    The breakfast table was crowded. Yeny’s parents, Carlitos, and Elena, as well as Yeny’s aunt and three cousins—Sylvia, Rosa, and Juan—all crowded around. Yeny’s Uncle Alfredo hadn’t been home for a long time. He’d been kidnapped by one of the
grupos armados
, armed groups, the year before. For weeks after Alfredo disappeared, no one knew if he was alive, and then one day a letter arrived. A group was holding him prisoner, and the only thing his family could do was wait and hope thatthe kidnappers were not the kind who torture people. Waiting and hoping was very hard. Juan often woke up screaming from nightmares.
    This morning, everyone at the table was eating arepas and
huevos pericos
, scrambled eggs with tomato and onion. The older ones drank coffee, but Yeny was glad that no one offered her any. She much preferred hot water with
panlea
, a sweet brown cube made from sugar cane juice that dissolved to