Loving Pride

A Mad Rabid Woman

"Mommy,"

The little boy clutched the edge of her skirt while looking up at his mother, who had been quiet for many hours. "Are we waiting, Mommy?" He asked again, and Lydia nodded. The boy fell as quiet as his mother now.

They were sitting on a rock outside the tent. Many soldiers had noticed them, but they concluded that only a mad, rabid woman and child would be sitting so still and quiet in the middle of a war.

Thomas Marquez Agaria, the six-year-old, didn't mind waiting for long hours beside his mother. He didn't know for what or whom they were waiting, but he was too captivated by the ruckus around them to complain.

He spotted a man vomiting in the middle of the road, then taking large gulps of his brandy bottle before vomiting again. Then he saw a soldier in green slapping the arse of a woman who walked past him. She giggled and winked in response.

Thomas was mortified. Whenever Grandma Paula hit him in the bottom, he always felt like crying and not giggling.

The little boy spotted another bunch of men walking through the mud in their big boots, ignorant of the dirt on their faces. They wore green round helmets, which he liked very much.

"Those green helmets are funny!" Thomas smiled while pointing at them for his mother to see. "They are, love." She gave him a weak smile without looking at wherever he was pointing.

Lydia Thorne was too anxious about tonight. The sky had already gone a deep blue shade, and just like every other night for the past six months, the anxiety of finding a proper safe area for Thomas to sleep was chewing her up.

Would the Colonel even step out of his tent?

Would he even remember her?

It was as though God had heard her worries.

The Colonel appeared with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was still shirtless, and Lydia stood up on spotting him. But the Colonel never noticed her—he had forgotten about the girl who took his shirt amid all the war strategies, armory arrangements, and garrison troubles that he was thinking about. Added with a headache.

He lit his cigarette and took a glance at the soldiers, who were carrying crates of ammunition from the ship. Just as he was about to step back into the tent, he glanced to his side until his eyes met with the young girl from before. The Colonel picked the cigarette from his lips and stared at Lydia for a moment. It was then that he remembered her.

At the same time, a soldier ran over to him with a map of the state. Unconsciously, the Colonel stepped back into the tent with the soldier while discussing the layout of the new garrison in Genham.

Lydia Thorne was again forgotten.

She sat back on the mossy rock, and Thomas resumed watching the atrocities of adulthood. An hour passed, then another, but the Colonel didn't step out of his tent, even though Lydia had seen a couple of soldiers hurrying in and out.

A jeep arrived then, with mud everywhere on its body. Soldiers armed with guns surrounded the Colonel as he marched out of the tent. He spat his cigarette on the mud before climbing onto the jeep and driving away. A couple of other jeeps followed behind them.

Lydia watched as the Colonel got away from her. The wheel tracks in the mud stretched longer than she could see. She felt her heart crack into pieces.

But for the sake of Thomas, she was not giving up.

"Keep up, Thomas." She grabbed the boy's hand and rushed towards a few soldiers who were idly smoking in the distance. Little Thomas stumbled and ran quickly to keep up with his mother.

"Excuse me! Please, where is that jeep going?" Lydia panted.

The young men eyed her from head to toe and chuckled among themselves. "Why? Think we can't shag you better, milady?" The youngest man, who didn't have enough hair to shave, smirked at the girl.

Lydia squeezed Thomas's hand tighter. "I need to know... Please..." She requested again.

"They are off to Genham. Follow them and get yourself killed." An older man answered without looking up from his soup bowl.

"Thank you, sir." She turned to hurry along the muddy road, "Let's go, Thomas" Lydia pulled the child along.

"Didn't you hear what I said, you whore?!" The man barked from behind her. She swallowed her fear once more and ran with her son. By foot, Genham was nearly twelve hours away but if she ran, she could make it in four.

But, of course, she wouldn't.

Thomas and Lydia were running under a mild drizzle, but the little boy didn't know why. He accidentally stepped on the slippery side of the road and tripped before falling into muddy water.

"Thomas!" She immediately lifted him into her arms before placing him steadily on his feet again. With the edge of her skirt, she wiped his face, knees, and hands clean. "Are you alright? Can you walk, love?" She inspected him again, squeezing his skin to make sure he wasn't sore anywhere. But there was a deep cut on his knee, infected with muddy water.

"It doesn't hurt that much, Mommy." The child mumbled while clutching the edge of his shorts. Even though he was in pain, he didn't want to slow down his mother. "It's okay. The pain will be gone soon." She lifted him into her arms again and continued to hurry down the road. Lydia now needed water as well to wash her boy's wound. But it seemed like she was on a wild goose chase.

The road was pitch black. She had left the old town long ago, and every once in a while, she would cross a street light clouded with moths. Thomas was feeling queasy while being bounced about in his mother's arms as she ran. Lydia was putting up with an even harder struggle to catch her breath.

It had gotten dark now, and it seemed like the rain kept growing. Lydia and Thomas were soaked, but the young girl attempted to shelter his head with her hand to prevent the painful drops of water from crashing onto him. The tire tracks had been washed away now, and she lost her sense of direction.

Miraculously, in the distance, she spotted a hut. Inside, a lamp was burning.