Black Catz

Chapter Sixteen - "Trash Talk"

"I'm Ludivina," I say, raising my hand, performing an action I almost forgot about: that of hand-raising, that of learning in class, that of which does not happen here.

"Very well, we have orders to bring you back," says the man.

Unlike the last man, the one taken by the harden-jawed beautiful boy, this man is deeper exhausted, more wasted, dried to the hair and nail, wrinkled with time. His legs and arms look weaker. And his body thinner from the waist.

"Orders from who?" my mother interrogates, not accepting what the officer had to say.

Sergeant Vaco, read the man's pin—the silver pin placed horizontally right over his heart, over his pocket that is over his heart. Then, above it—above the pendant of his name—stars, about five of them, bling in gold; and to the side of them, strips and straps that meant he had climbed up the rank-ladder—or the ladder of ranks, whatever the fuck they call it. Tucked to the bottom, running in-creases down, his shirt was hidden under the black belt given to all soldiers—even Henry and his men had them, and the beautiful boy has them too; my mother, on the contrary, has a different uniform—still running and badged and colored like the man's, but different colors mean different things in her woods, in her army—whatever type of army that is, that is.

"She is from the other side of the Wall, mam," said the sergeant. "I don't ask question. I just take the people that I need to take."

"Yes, but she's also my daughter," said my mother.

Great, we've finally publicly admit it.

Is this our first time out, for my mother and I? I don't think so. We've been out quite a lot. We've also seen men and women—more like children—die. Thus, perhaps, we've bonded more than any mother daughter could in the time of their life, even if they tried. We've bonded out of force, of course. But I'm not going to take that back. I'm not going to change that. It's more than I could have hoped for.

But I would, in deed, trade back ever meeting my mother if it meant I could have my grandmother and Moritz back. I didn't need her in my life before, and she was not there for me, Moritz and my grandmother were, so it is only to them I owe what I am about to do next.

"I want to stay," I say.

The sergeant laughs.

The beautiful boy looks at me.

"Mam, that is not up to you."

"Then? To who is it up to?" I reply.

"We have orders to take you back and that's that," the sergeant grabs at me.

With the first tuck—which is all this has fucking been—a war of tuck and roll and go emerges. I move forward, towards the sergeant. He's not as strong as Zero, or Oso, or Congo, or even Noe.

"Sir—she has nobody left," the boy says, for me, looking at my grandmother, and avoiding to look at Moritz.

***********

"You can stay with me," my mother says, looking at me instead of the sergeant, even though she was supposed to look at the sergeant because he was the one asking for an explanation, an answer as to why he would—if he could—go back empty handed.

"I just know I need to stay and end whoever did this to them," I reply, to whoever can listen and help me, I say, looking at my grandmother and Moritz. I walk to my grandmother and kneel down.

My grandmother has always kept a pendant with her. A gold one over her neck. A pendent that kept, inside, a picture of my grandfather and her.

Before getting back up, I slowly took it off of her. I didn't put it over me—I didn't want to lose it—but I did put it in my haversack.