Looking at the clean, tender face, the female medic nodded with satisfaction. "No matter what happens in the future, you must stay clean. Life may be a mess, but as long as you're alive, there's meaning and hope, isn't there?"
As she spoke, she patted his head, smiled, and turned to leave.
"You… what's your name?" the little boy suddenly asked.
"Look here. We are the army for the people." The female medic pointed to the armband on her sleeve.
The boy nodded, half understanding, half not.
He didn't really know why he was standing there. The neighbor next door said that if he went to greet the Government Forces, he could get something to eat. So, he came.
That red scarf…
It smelled so good.
He looked up at the troops, and a tiny seed was planted deep in his small heart. Someday, when he grew up, he would… he must find her.
...
Yucatan. Mérida. The National Palace.
The phone on Arturo Desena's desk was ringing incessantly.
