A friend from the past
*** Disclaimer: I don't own The Mummy or it's characters, they belong to Universal Pictures, Stephen Sommers and various other people. I do, however, own the character of Jadviga Szabó and parts of the plot. ***
Heat. Nothing but heat and sand. The Sahara really doesn't have what you would call a pleasant climate. Ever since I had to join the legion, we didn't have a different kind of weather. Our garrison was stationed in Morocco, where we were waiting for further instructions. Unfortunately for us, food was getting rare 'cause the next town was twenty miles away, which is a long travel on camels. We didn't really starve here, but we couldn't eat our fill, either. It was noon, the time at which you can fry eggs on stones - if you have eggs to fry, I mean. Mh. . fried eggs . .
Maybe O'Connell knew, which of the legionnaires stored food. Many of them did, so that they could sell it to exorbitant prices. Of course, I was not planning to pay for it. Hey, what was I a pick-pocket for, if not for that? Well, I wasn't the most talented one, though. Otherwise that stupid old bag wouldn't have caught me stealing her purse. She was the one, who made me join the legion. If I ever return to Hungary, she'll pay for this!
OK, I was still hungry, so I had to find O'Connell. I never found out why he was in the legion, 'cause he always said, that he "was just looking for a good time", whatever he meant with that. He was a little bit strange but nevertheless quite useful. It was usually not very hard to find O'Connell. He was the one sitting between several large piles of weapons, which he cleaned, loaded or repaired. He truly loved them. It also made the others respect him, which was good for he was a corporal.
"Hey, O'Connell, how are you?"
"Well, apart from the heat, I'm fine. Can I help you, Jad?"
He always called me "Jad", since my Hungarian name "Jadviga" was too long and too complicated. If anyone had ever called me "Jad" at home, I probably would have beaten him up. But it sounded nice, when O'Connell said it and O'Connell was also a bit too tall, to get beaten up by me..
"Yes, you can help me! Do you know who's storing food at the moment? I'm hungry!"
"We had lunch only an hour ago, Jad"
"You know Rick, when you're small and petite, you only get the rests. And if you're among five hundred men, you get almost nothing at all."
"Yeah, I know, Jad, a woman's life is not easy." he grinned, as if he had just said something incredible wise.
"You betcha! So who's hoarding stuff?"
"Well, we've got Scapelli, Wiprotshew, Hausmann, Fernandez."
The legion consisted of men (and a few women, like myself) from countries all around the world. Most of them joined, because they had to fear execution or prison. These men were thieves, murderers, pimps or rapists. Only few of them were here for "fun" or adventure, like O'Connell. All of the guys that O'Connell named were bad boys, with which you shouldn't mess, unless you have a death wish or something.
"Isn't there anybody more. harmless?"
"You could try Gabor. Don't know if you know him."
Gabor? I knew 20 Gabors! I came from Hungary and Gabor was a very common name there.
"No, I don't think I know him."
"I'll show you."
O'Connell got up and started looking for that Gabor-guy. I followed him, trying to imagine, how the guy might look like. Tall, strong.. I had never met a weakling in the legion. Suddenly O'Connell stopped and beckoned me to come closer.
"There he is."
I followed his gaze. A small, scrawny guy with pale skin and dark hair was sitting in front of a tent. He was wearing a very thin moustache, which followed the line of his upper lip. In front of him, he had spread his little "bazaar", the things he wanted to flog. Apples, oranges, bread - nothing too fresh - and even some bottles of whisky and wine.
"THAT is Gabor???"
"Yep, little bastard, he is. He's always up to something. Every time I talk to him, I check that he hasn't stolen anything, afterwards. That saved my watch quite a few times."
"Where did he get that stuff from? They don't give us these things at lunch."
"Wouldn't it be nice, if they did? He probably stole it in Marrakech."
"OK, I'll take him. Doesn't seem to be a mighty opponent."
"Be careful, he's smart and very quick. He catches you in a jiffy!"
"Oh yes, and what will he do to me then? I'm really looking forward to have a brawl with him!"
"Well, give him a nice big kick in the ass from me, then!"
"Sure! Or maybe two."
"Right! But now I've got to go back to my guns, or they won't be there anymore! Have fun!"
With that, O'Connell got back to his tent.
My plan was very easy: wait until it's dark, go to Gabor's tent, wait 'til he's asleep, get into the tent and get the food, run for it. Well, it wasn't perfect, but at least I had one.
*** Disclaimer: I don't own The Mummy or it's characters, they belong to Universal Pictures, Stephen Sommers and various other people. I do, however, own the character of Jadviga Szabó and parts of the plot. ***
Heat. Nothing but heat and sand. The Sahara really doesn't have what you would call a pleasant climate. Ever since I had to join the legion, we didn't have a different kind of weather. Our garrison was stationed in Morocco, where we were waiting for further instructions. Unfortunately for us, food was getting rare 'cause the next town was twenty miles away, which is a long travel on camels. We didn't really starve here, but we couldn't eat our fill, either. It was noon, the time at which you can fry eggs on stones - if you have eggs to fry, I mean. Mh. . fried eggs . .
Maybe O'Connell knew, which of the legionnaires stored food. Many of them did, so that they could sell it to exorbitant prices. Of course, I was not planning to pay for it. Hey, what was I a pick-pocket for, if not for that? Well, I wasn't the most talented one, though. Otherwise that stupid old bag wouldn't have caught me stealing her purse. She was the one, who made me join the legion. If I ever return to Hungary, she'll pay for this!
OK, I was still hungry, so I had to find O'Connell. I never found out why he was in the legion, 'cause he always said, that he "was just looking for a good time", whatever he meant with that. He was a little bit strange but nevertheless quite useful. It was usually not very hard to find O'Connell. He was the one sitting between several large piles of weapons, which he cleaned, loaded or repaired. He truly loved them. It also made the others respect him, which was good for he was a corporal.
"Hey, O'Connell, how are you?"
"Well, apart from the heat, I'm fine. Can I help you, Jad?"
He always called me "Jad", since my Hungarian name "Jadviga" was too long and too complicated. If anyone had ever called me "Jad" at home, I probably would have beaten him up. But it sounded nice, when O'Connell said it and O'Connell was also a bit too tall, to get beaten up by me..
"Yes, you can help me! Do you know who's storing food at the moment? I'm hungry!"
"We had lunch only an hour ago, Jad"
"You know Rick, when you're small and petite, you only get the rests. And if you're among five hundred men, you get almost nothing at all."
"Yeah, I know, Jad, a woman's life is not easy." he grinned, as if he had just said something incredible wise.
"You betcha! So who's hoarding stuff?"
"Well, we've got Scapelli, Wiprotshew, Hausmann, Fernandez."
The legion consisted of men (and a few women, like myself) from countries all around the world. Most of them joined, because they had to fear execution or prison. These men were thieves, murderers, pimps or rapists. Only few of them were here for "fun" or adventure, like O'Connell. All of the guys that O'Connell named were bad boys, with which you shouldn't mess, unless you have a death wish or something.
"Isn't there anybody more. harmless?"
"You could try Gabor. Don't know if you know him."
Gabor? I knew 20 Gabors! I came from Hungary and Gabor was a very common name there.
"No, I don't think I know him."
"I'll show you."
O'Connell got up and started looking for that Gabor-guy. I followed him, trying to imagine, how the guy might look like. Tall, strong.. I had never met a weakling in the legion. Suddenly O'Connell stopped and beckoned me to come closer.
"There he is."
I followed his gaze. A small, scrawny guy with pale skin and dark hair was sitting in front of a tent. He was wearing a very thin moustache, which followed the line of his upper lip. In front of him, he had spread his little "bazaar", the things he wanted to flog. Apples, oranges, bread - nothing too fresh - and even some bottles of whisky and wine.
"THAT is Gabor???"
"Yep, little bastard, he is. He's always up to something. Every time I talk to him, I check that he hasn't stolen anything, afterwards. That saved my watch quite a few times."
"Where did he get that stuff from? They don't give us these things at lunch."
"Wouldn't it be nice, if they did? He probably stole it in Marrakech."
"OK, I'll take him. Doesn't seem to be a mighty opponent."
"Be careful, he's smart and very quick. He catches you in a jiffy!"
"Oh yes, and what will he do to me then? I'm really looking forward to have a brawl with him!"
"Well, give him a nice big kick in the ass from me, then!"
"Sure! Or maybe two."
"Right! But now I've got to go back to my guns, or they won't be there anymore! Have fun!"
With that, O'Connell got back to his tent.
My plan was very easy: wait until it's dark, go to Gabor's tent, wait 'til he's asleep, get into the tent and get the food, run for it. Well, it wasn't perfect, but at least I had one.
