Lydia had discovered a storage room at the end of the hallway that had a couple of sacks. She threw all the Reds' things in the sacks and dragged them down the stairs until she disposed of everything in the fire that was being burned by ragpickers outside.
Within the first few hours of her time, she had already carried the sacks four times outside. It was heavy and her whole body was aching. Thomas kept insisting that he would help, but she didn't want to risk him being seen by any of the soldiers. Hence, he stayed in the rooms.
Lydia was glad that he had followed her though, because there were places that were out of her reach in the room and she'd lift Thomas so that he could easily strip the walls. The little boy made her job a lot easier.
With only a few more hours remaining until the Colonel's return, Lydia was halfway done with dusting and wiping the walls clean. Even Thomas did everything he could. He was enjoying himself as he got to be near his mother more than usual today.
At 7 pm, Lydia was done with her chores and she felt thoroughly relieved. Thomas was left in the master bedroom, which now belonged to his father. "We'll leave after I put these rags back in the storeroom," Lydia told him and, Thomas nodded while staying beside the table.
A few moments later, he heard footsteps, but they were not his mother's.
In a sudden hurry, he hid behind the table. The heavy boots were approaching him and his heart raced. The little boy was having too many flashbacks from when he had witnessed the war last night. Out of self-defense, he pulled the shaving knife out of his shorts. Since he was very fond of it, Lydia was forced to let him keep it whenever she was near him.
The door opened and a man in a uniform appeared. He had seen the man before but he couldn't remember where. With hands in his pockets, the Colonel stood in the center of the room. He analyzed the walls, the furniture, and his bed—everything was tidy and better than he expected it to be.
In Thomas's eyes, the man was just another soldier. And every soldier was heartless enough to make his mother cry.
The little boy revealed himself from behind the table with the shaving knife in hand but he tripped on his shoelace. The shaving knife caused a cut in his palm. He wailed in pain.
Colonel Marquez Agaria had turned the instant he heard someone fall behind him. His hand rested on the holster but he was confused at the spectacle before him.
There was a little boy on his knees with a bleeding palm. His eyes were brimming with tears and he noticed the familiar shaving knife on the floor.
The Colonel didn't help the boy, instead, he dragged the metal object under his boot so that he could confirm what he saw.
What was a young child doing in his bedroom?
Why did he have the shaving knife that he had given Lydia Thorne?
"You're her son?" The Colonel questioned but Thomas was too confused and scared to answer anything now that he didn't have his weapon. And he was in pain. He winced while staring down at his palm.
Lydia Thorne appeared at the door at the same time. "Thomas-!" She noticed his bleeding palm and immediately picked him up in her arms. She snatched the handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it on his wound. She didn't know what to tell the Colonel or how to look at his face. She stood there embarrassed while squeezing the handkerchief.
"Leave the boy outside," the Colonel commanded. Lydia didn't dare disobey him and placed Thomas in the hallway. The boy protested but Lydia was just as serious when she asked Thomas to quietly wait outside the room.
"He followed me here and I didn't notice... Please forgive him if he has done or said anything wrong..." Lydia requested.
"How old are you?" The Colonel questioned as he sat down on his chair behind the mahogany desk.
"Twenty-two"
"And I believe you wouldn't be married since you have been following me for quite a long time. But the boy proves you were a whore in your younger years, yet you chose false bravado to win my respect on every occasion." He took out his revolver, "How dare you mock me, girl?"
"I wasn't mocking you, Colonel," Lydia replied calmly, "Thomas was born of love. I've never been with a man since his father."
"You were with me," the Colonel scoffed and leaned back on the chair, "What happened to your principles last night?"
"I kept my principles last night as well. I've never slept with a man other than his father." She repeated.
Lydia was tired of lying, hiding and shaming herself for the eventful night from six years ago. She had battled too many struggles to end up in front of Colonel Marquez Agaria, to confront him as the father of her child—to see if he was willing to take responsibility.
"I have no offspring." The forty-two-year-old replied.
Lydia gritted her teeth, "His name is Thomas Marquez Agaria. I named him just like you wanted me to. I loved him just like you asked me to. You didn't remember me at first, Colonel, but now you should. That night you asked me to name him after you so that after fifty-sixty years, there would still be a trace of your legacy in the world. Don't you remember any of that?" Her voice cracked as tears brimmed her eyes.
The Colonel wasn't softening. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered a strange conversation with a prison guard while he was drunk beyond words. The guard had asked Marquez if he felt no remorse in fucking a woman who could have been as old as his daughter, but the Colonel had taunted the guard back by commenting something vicious that had slipped out of his memory now.
He remembered nothing else from that night.
"You were that girl who came to my cell the night before I was to be hanged?"
"Yes" Lydia gulped.
"I don't remember anything, fortunately, not your face, your name, nothing. If you expect me to commend you for believing the words of an old drunk man and chasing him for six months, then I'd say you are a fool," the Colonel replied.
Lydia didn't know how to formulate a response to his words. She certainly was a fool for believing a drunk man's promise of love. Her grandma Paula had warned her that men with money always broke promises because they could afford it, but she had believed that the Colonel was different. She believed that he'd recognize her immediately at a glance, but that didn't happen.
On weary nights—two years after Thomas was born—when her sister was getting married, she wasn't invited because she had brought shame into the family by being the Colonel's whore. She had cried and suffered for Marquez, yet she always had a firm belief that the love he showed her that night, the way he kissed her toes up to her forehead, the way he smiled at her like he'd never love again... She believed that she would find the Colonel and have her fairytale fulfilled.
"I am a fool to have loved you. I'm sorry for wasting your time. Now, I'll be off after receiving my payment." She replied without meeting his eyes.
The Colonel continued staring at her until he sighed and opened the vault under his desk. "60 Torrens. 10 for each room and 10 for the hallway," he replied while handing her a bag of coins. Lydia nodded and began counting her money on the table.
"While cleaning the place," the Colonel smoked a fresh cigarette, "You didn't happen to notice anything funny, yes?"
"Funny in what sense?" Lydia didn't look up from the coins.
"Anything at all. On the floor, on the walls, anything unusual?"
"Even if I did, what would I get by telling you?" She grumbled under her breath before taking the money pouch and walking towards the door.
Colonel Marquez Agaria slammed his hand on the wood, trapping a startled Lydia between him and the door. He was dangerously close, and she could feel a chill down her spine as he stared into her soul with his steel eyes.
"You're living in the middle of a war, Lydia. It has been going on for years, and it will carry on for a very long time. If you wish for peace in this world, don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. Do what is right for the nation. If you've come across any secret of the Reds, tell me, as it could be of high military significance."
Lydia sucked a sharp breath.
"You're not fooling anyone by preaching peace, Colonel. You have not experienced struggles—you've only created them and you have no intention of ending this war. Victory is all that you and your men crave. But I'm not like you. I don't care about the Reds, the Blacks, the government, or any of you bullshit men who talk about peace but stay rooted in evil because of your power. It's common people like me—mothers like me—who wish for a peaceful world for their children to grow up in. I don't care about anything else except having a roof over my head and having money to feed Thomas. I only care about his happiness. Hence, I don't know what is right for this fucked up nation. I don't care about it."
A tear rolled down her face now. She was trembling while staring the Colonel dead in the eye.
He was fascinated, but he didn't know what to tell her. He couldn't find a single syllable of insincerity or lie in her words. Lydia Thorne made the Colonel question himself.
What was he truly fighting for?
Was it peace or war that he adored so much?
Colonel Marquez Agaria began questioning everything in him, starting from his principles, his men, the medals he had won, and his very life. A mere woman had shattered his walls with her brutally honest words.
But a part of him was charmed by Lydia.
At least he knew he hadn't made a wrong decision by giving her his son. She'd make a good man out of Thomas.
Lydia took the Colonel's silence to her advantage and proposed something brilliant.
"Now that you know all my motives, Colonel, I want to help you but I know better than to trust you again. If you're willing to do something for me, I'll share everything I found on this floor."
"You can trust me," The Colonel mumbled. He was slightly embarrassed now to be under the mercy of Lydia Thorne. "What is your proposition?"
"Thomas is six years old. He doesn't know how to read or write. Palona never had any schools, and neither do I know anything to teach him. If he has any basic skills, he can get a job, and he can live in this harsh world. I want someone to-"
"I'll teach him arithmetic and words. Is that all?" The Colonel replied immediately.
Lydia was surprised that he had willingly taken up the responsibility.
"That's all." She nodded.
"Very well," The Colonel retrieved his hand and stood properly before her, "Now reveal what you found."