Mama's Boys

Tattered tents circle a small burnt out campfire in the center of the forest's clearing. Bitterly cold air blows through the tents of the small encampment. Their scrapped flaps whip in the wind, sounding as if a flag were waving proudly in the air. Ashes lay dormant in the firepit covered in a layer of frost so thick it would fool a child into believing it snowed. The frost oppresses every blade of grass and tree in sight.

Twigs and dead leaves crunch under the heavy feet of a tall man wearing a light winter coat. He enters the clearing from the west. A backpack lay burdensome on his shoulders as they rise and fall with each breath. Carbon dioxide appears in front of him as he exhales and becomes invisible almost immediately. He stops just at the edge of the small camp and watches his breath for a moment.

Past the cool white mist of his own breath was a small tent that was in nearly perfect condition. It stood proudly among the other tents that were used as scrap. Its only flaw was the zipper that didn't quite reach the top of the exit, leaving the flap to whip around in the harsh winter wind. The slightly open flap taps rhythmically on the tent.

The man leans forward to the tent and opens it the rest of the way. He steps inside and looks down at the elderly woman that lay still under a massive quilt. A small electric heater sits beside her, its heating coils humming lightly. Solar panels capture soft winter sunlight and convert it into heat, of which the old lady needs desperately.

The man crouches down beside the elderly woman, taking his backpack off as he does. He sits his backpack down next to her and unzips it. "Aye Mama, I got the medicine you needed." he says to her softly. After a bit of rummaging, he pulls a small pill bottle from his backpack. A label says the name of the medication, but the name of who it was prescribed to had been scratched out.

Wrinkles cover the face of the old woman. She glances over at her son and smiles weakly. Her son smiles back at her once he sees her move. "Where did you find it?" She asks, her voice an airy whisper. "The pharmacy finally get some?"

Her son's face blanked for a moment. "Yes Mama, they finally got some more on the shelves." he replies, trying his hardest not to seem suspicious. "I jumped on it as soon as I could." He draws a half empty bottle of water from his backpack.

The old woman wasn't being told something, and she knew it. "Tell me, Mijo, how are things in town?" she pressed, her voice building strength as she spoke.

The man knows his facade is failing. "Here Mama, you need to take your medicine," he says while offering the cold bottle of water to her. "Take your medicine, and then we can talk." His mother tries to sit up, but her aging body betrays her. He swoops in to aid her, successfully helping her stay upright. He opens both the bottle of water and the pill bottle before offering the water to his mother.

She takes the water into her shaky hands and waits for her son to ration out her pills to her. The young man hands her the medication. She takes the pills with a mouthful of water and swallows hard. "Rest now, Mama." her son tells her, laying her back down. "It's going to take a little bit for the medicine to start working."

Her faded eyes stare deeply into her son's, searching for the truth he was hiding. She is much too tired to find it now, though, and slowly succumbs to her exhaustion. The young man pulls the heavy quilt back over her, zips up his backpack, and leaves the tent.

Freezing wind nips at his exposed hands as he zips the tent back up to the broken portion. He stands up straight and takes a long look at the sky. It will be dark soon. His misty breath lingers in the air longer than it had before. He stuffs his freezing hands into the pockets of the jacket that wasn't warm enough for the frigid winds he was braving and sets off towards the woods.