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Joshua’s real mother and John’s wife… Huh…
Perhaps the child’s real mother had something to do with the name ‘Senna’, the one which John sang in a plaintive, solemn voice.
Although I came hither to with the thoughts of feeding the hunger growing inside me, I felt a sense of bitterness. Or maybe it was curiosity. The more Josh, or should I say Joshua, calls me ‘mother’, the more I grew curious of his real mother.
But I shouldn’t be curious. Isn’t that the new type of torture this days? What was that saying I heard… Ah… Curiosity kills the cat!
But anyways, I wonder where’s Josh’s real mother now? I’ll have to at least know a little bit to fit a befitting image of his mother. But at that moment, a rumbling sound reverberated through my stomach.
How loud the noise was… It was embarrassing. Even John glanced a furtive look at my stomach. I smiled awkwardly. I should stop thinking and eat. Complex matters just hurts my brain the more I think of it.
But it’s scary to think of it. This guy, John, to think he managed to seduce me with delicious food. To think I’d resort to such means! But who cares. I’m a beggar, remember? Beggars can’t picky.
Soon after, the closed door opened naturally and a beaming figure walked in.
”Mama! Mama, didn’t you say that you were hungry?”
My ears perked up to the subject of food. Ah… No… This is truly torture. Not to mention John’s gaze locked on me, scrutinizing my every move I bet.
But I ignored it. I’ll take advantage of the situation.
I look at Josh. I noticed his clothing had changed. It looked more comfortable and cute.
“Yes, dear. I’m very hungry.”
John said sarcastically. I ignored it and looked at Josh.
”Hehe… I brought you something delicious!”
A woman followed Josh from behind. She had a strange look on her face, a faint smile, yet solemn at the same time.
I think to myself, why are all the people here sad?
But the thought quickly evaporated ‘fore what I saw surprised me. Holding what seemed like a two-story long tray stacked with meat. The trays were littered with delicious delicacies and all kinds of meat to eat.
The smell of it drove me crazy. I had this urge to jump in, grab the food, and gobble it all up in one go.
The servant that had seen me drool like a dog in heat began to place the food on the table. It didn’t take long, but boy did it seem like forever.
Meanwhile, saliva dripped from the corner of my mouth.
“Josh, I can have this?”
I asked Josh, but the damned hooligan, John, answered.
“Who else would be eating it, beggar?”
His voice hinted a snarky sarcasm. I glanced at him, eyes fierce, and quickly morphed to one of sunny brightnesses as I turned my head back to Josh.
”Of course! Mama, it’s all for you!”
Josh gestured me to eat. Scared that all was merely an illusion, I began to fill my stomach stricken with hunger.
Finally, food at last…
I could not believe how delicious the meat was. If this kind of food was served every day, staying with Josh for the rest of my life as his caretaker might not be so bad after all.
Sigh… I wish I had a son like him. But he’s not. I’m only a pretend mother. It’ll be a difficult job, but I can’t say for sure.
As I lifted my head, I saw Josh and John, who had yet to leave the room, look at me with expectancy. John’s face was crumpled like it had always been, while Josh remained smiling like always.
”I feel happy to see you eat.”
Yes, he did look happy.
If only John could learn a thing or two from his child, that would be truly wonderful. The way this kid speaks, it didn’t resemble anything like his father at all.
“Ha-ha… This beggar’s dinner is finally over.”
I patted my belly a few times and smiled satisfactorily.
“Yes, you’re a big eater, beggar.”
John kept calling me a beggar at the end of every sentence. It grew tiring. I raised one brow and glared at him slightly. Can’t be too noticeable, else I’d get kicked out.
“What? Are you looking at me?”
“Yes, this beggar is staring at you.”
John shook his head from side to side.
“How long will you keep calling yourself a beggar?”
“Until you stop calling me a beggar?”
“If not beggar, then what should I call you?”
“I have a name. Lina. Please call me Lina.”
But I doubt that’s my real name. All traces of my past is gone. I hardly remember my past.
But one name I remember vaguely was ‘Lina’. It could have been a name from someone I once knew, or it could have been mine. I do not know.
“….That name doesn’t suit you.”
John replied curtly.
“So you’ll keep calling me a beggar, then?”
As our voices rose slightly, Josh shouted, voice filled with nervousness.
“Stop, Papa, Mama! A husband and wife should not fight! It’s bad!”
John and I, we closed our mouths tight, at a loss for words of contention.
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