Category: Fiction

First Time

Fiction by | January 29, 2024

It’s forty minutes past three in the morning. You are wide awake. The woman, you just slept with for the first time, is fast asleep. You cannot sleep, not even in a half-sober state. You light a cigarette and stare at the window. Outside, you hear the rustle from the foliage of Molave. Crickets throughout the field, from Mount Pangasugan to Lagolago, down to your boarding house in Patag are the night’s ambient sound. Occasionally, you hear motorcycles from the main road. Oh, those kompadres. Have they not had enough Emperador, yet? It’s funny how after a wild freshmen fellowship party, Baybay becomes quite—awfully quiet—you think. You look at the woman in your bed. What was her name? You do not remember. Was she Mike’s friend? Or maybe Elaine’s? Who is she? You eagerly attempt to recall. You remember, not her name, no. But the woman, the one at home, her name. Yes, her, the one whom you first planned to do it with for the first time. The image of her flashes in front of you, as if she was somewhere out in the cogon field, looking, not at you, but at this beautiful sky.
Continue reading First Time

The Death of Hijo Tale

Fiction by | December 4, 2023

Every time the townspeople heard about the bridge of the Hijo River nearly getting destroyed after a night of heavy rain, they would always say that the golden ship of Maria Cacao passed by again to deliver her harvest. People living on the riverbank would even swear having heard its horn or seen its dazzling light in the middle of a dark storm.

It was early in the morning when people gathered around the edge of the Gaudencio Antonio bridge that almost collapsed. The old structure made from bamboo poles hadn’t been renovated for years. The passing of time and harsh weather conditions had left its sections crumbling and weakened. Most of the time, people in our sitio would just overlay the frail parts with new poles. I remember when Mang Torio accidentally fell his right leg into a hole while walking on the bridge.

The storm last night had left the other side of the bridge in tatters, its beams cracked and splintered. Pieces of bamboo were scattered across the river, revealing the extent of the damage. Some were busy plucking the floating coconuts while others were putting them inside the sacks. Inay told me to sweep the bamboo leaves the strong wind had blown last night, but I saw my friends having fun with the fallen coconut palms so I decided to come down. We were living uphill from the river, and this was the only bridge connecting us to the nearby sitio. It would take hours to reach the center as we were the last sitio of this barangay.

“It was huge and was so shiny!” Mang Torio said, extending his arms.  I stopped when my slippers got heavier with each step. I rubbed them against the rock I found on the side, trying to get rid of the dirt. The ground was wet, and the grasses were blanketed with mud. Looking around, I saw Tiya Amalia, Mang Torio’s wife, wiping their floor and squeezing water into the pail from the rags. Fortunately, the flood didn’t rise high enough and entered our house.

“But I got chills and closed the window immediately,” he added. Mang Torio’s voice faded as I passed him from where he stood.

The story of Maria Cacao wasn’t new to us. She was a fairy who was known to kidnap people to keep as her servants if she found them out at night. In other stories, she disguised herself as an agent to get workers for her huge cacao plantation on the mountain and kept them there for a long time. Lolo Elias even told me a story of how his friend got out of Maria Cacao’s realm after he complained that the food was bland. It happened that Maria Cacao despised salt and so she let him go. But if she liked you, she would fool your family into thinking that you were dead by sending them a piece of a banana trunk. However, some would say she was a generous fairy because anyone who wished to use her utensils and silverware could ask for them at the mouth of the cave. The next day, without fail, these things would be delivered to your door. In some versions of the tale, she was even known to host parties with other encantadas in her golden ship where they would watch the destruction of the local bridge as they passed it. Stories also had it that she was a militant leader of an enchanted naval army who bombed the local river bridge, which had been constructed through the forced labor of Filipinos by the colonizers.

“Gabriela, get the oil at the altar,” Lolo Elias said. Today was Sunday and unlike the other days, only three patients were waiting to be treated. I immediately recognized their faces for they had been here before. I handed lolo a small bottle that contained roots and some dark liquid which seemed to be the oil that he’d made the other day.

“It’s been three days,” the first patient said, “the dots spread on her body even more and she could hardly move.” The woman in her mid-thirties almost cried. I supposed they were from another sitio on the other side of the river before us.

“Come back here tomorrow, and bring her to me,” lolo said, staring at the small crystal ball beside Sto. Niño. He shook his head while popping his tongue.

Lolo Elias was a known faith healer in our sitio who followed his father, my great-grandfather who died a couple of years ago. Lolo could heal snake and insect bites or people who had been hexed, and he could even communicate with spirits. Some patients even traveled from afar just to consult him about their illnesses. However, beyond 5:00 p.m. lolo would no longer accept patients. Perhaps people preferred him over hospitals since he would not ask for anything in return. Most of the time people would just leave offerings on the altar, like food or coins.

“Gabri, when is your pasukan?” Inay said, placing the plates in front of me. We were at the table and were about to have dinner. As it began to get dark, lolo positioned the gasera in the center and sat beside Inay. I looked at the vacant seat next to me, Itay hadn’t been home yet. It had been two weeks since the strike started, and he led the protest at the banana plantation. He had barely gone home since then.

“First week of August, nay,” I said. I was going to be in grade seven next enrollment, and the classes would begin in a month, but I didn’t have my notebooks yet and had no plans to buy them anytime soon. What Inay earned from selling banana cue was enough for us to get by every day. Itay could hardly provide food because of what they were dealing with at the plantation.

“I washed your old bag, just use it in the meantime,” she said. I nodded and continued to eat in silence.

*

The next morning, Itay came back home. His shirt now looked too big for him than the last time I saw him, and his pants and feet were dirty. Below his eyes were dark bags that seemed to be weighing heavily on his tired face.

“Mano po, tay” I said. I held his rough hand and put it on my forehead. He smiled weakly at me and took something out from his ragged backpack.

“We’ll buy you more when things settle at work,” he said. Itay handed me a red sando bag. The smell of new notebooks made my face light up as soon as I removed them from the cellophane. I wondered how he got the money to buy these, but I didn’t want to burden him with my curiosity. Perhaps he did a sideline job today.

“What’s that?” Inay said. She approached us from behind with a ladle in her hand. I could smell the aroma of ginisang Kangkong that she was cooking for our breakfast.

“I passed by a store that sells cheap notebooks earlier, so I bought some,” Itay said. He hung his bag on the protruding nail behind the door and went straight to the kitchen.

Inay asked me to help lolo in gathering Guyabano leaves from the backyard so we could have breakfast together. I quickly placed the notebooks on top of the cabinet and headed outside. Each day, Lolo Elias would boil Guyabano leaves to use as his drinking water. He believed it would cure his diabetes since it kept his sugar low.

“We were encouraging the workers from the other branches to join us,” Itay said. Everyone had finished eating except for him.

“Shouldn’t you stop now, Jaime?” Inay said worriedly.  She was washing the dishes while I was at the table peeling the bananas that we would sell later. Itay was beside me eating like it was his first meal of the day.

“It’s too late,” he said, “and besides, some of the company board members seemed to be listening to us.” He drank water and stood up to get more rice.

“Do they really care?” Inay said, “Gabriela’s classes are about to start.” She wiped her hands with a towel and stood in front of Itay.

“If I stop, we’ll starve to death with the little salary they will give,” Itay said. “If we don’t take action now, they’ll think that it’s okay for us to be treated this way.” He placed his plates in the sink and washed his hands.

“Then we’ll move to Leyte,” she said. “We can stay in mama’s house in the meantime, and I know you can find work there.” Inay had been suggesting that for weeks. She wanted us to start a new life in Leyte and leave this place behind, but Itay was hesitant.

        “Our life is here, Caridad,” Itay said, facing Inay.

        “I just think that we’ll have more opportunities there,” she said. “Especially now that the plantation is not paying us right and Gabriela will go to high school.”

Inay was born in Leyte. At times, she would tell me stories of the beautiful places and how her life back there. The lush green mountains overlooked crystal clear waters, where they used to play as a kid. When her father, my lolo, had a stroke, she had to support her other two younger siblings. After she finished high school, she moved to Tagum with her two cousins to work. They found a job at a banana chip factory, and she met Itay during her time there. When they had me, Inay quit working. Itay took responsibility and decided to settle down here.

“Don’t worry, someone is willing to help us to file a complaint in…DO? DOL?  If they still continue to ignore us,” he added.

        “File a complaint? Isn’t that dangerous?” Inay said. “And we don’t have money for that.”

*

The following week, more people than expected came to see Lolo Elias. Even Tiya Amalia, who lived downhill and was the first in line, appeared distressed. Some were from other sitios who arrived early and stood patiently on the side. I arranged all the chairs we had, but there weren’t enough for everyone.

“Nong, Torio hasn’t gone home for days now,” Tiya Amalia said. “I last saw him when he was taking a bath in the river before heading downtown to work.”

“Wasn’t he on the plantation to protest with Jaime?” lolo asked.

“He was, but we need to survive,” she said, sobbing. “Please help me, nong. I brought his dirty shirt with me.”

Lolo took the shirt from her hands and closed his eyes. When he was done, he looked at his crystal and tilted his head. “It seems like someone purposely leads him astray, he needs our help.”

Tiya Amalia covered her mouth with her hands, tears started to fall from her eyes. “Who?” she said. “Was it…her, nong?”

Lolo tightened his lips and glanced sideways. He then told Tiya Amalia to come back tomorrow with three black candles and a chicken as a sacrifice. It took the whole day to assist most of them with their problems. At nearly five in the afternoon, lolo told the rest to come back the next day since he ran out of oil.

“Could this be the same thing that happened years ago, pa?” Inay said. She was helping lolo scrape the coconut meat while I was pouring the oil into the bottles. We were making the traditional banyos that Lolo’s father had passed on to him.

“We haven’t found bodies yet, I hope it’s not.” Lolo sighed heavily.

“But Mang Torio saw her golden ship,” Inay said.

Years ago, when Itay was my age, a lot of people also came to his lolo asking for help because their husbands had gone missing. Based on the story that had now become a legend in our sitio, there was a typhoon at that time, and while the rain was pouring in torrents, Maria Cacao’s golden ship passed in the Hijo River. In the days that followed, one by one the bodies of a group of men who’d worked for the banana plantation were discovered floating in the river.  However, when my great-grandfather performed a ritual during the wake of one of the victims, everyone was taken aback to find out that the body was nothing more than banana trunks. Until today they hadn’t returned yet and some had said that they had been taken to work at Maria Cacao’s plantation or were still in her ship to deliver the harvest. The families of those victims believed that Maria Cacao had taken them, while others said those men had been involved in the robbery at the plantation so the owner hired a gunman to clean up the mess. But the truth behind the mysterious disappearances remained shrouded in rumors and speculation.

*

Tiya Amalia came back the next day. She brought the things that were needed to perform the ritual that Lolo Elias would do in the river.

“Is your habak with you?” Inay said. She told me to go with lolo and helped him go down the hill because the route was slippery.

“Yes, nay,” I said, looking at the band I had tied around my belly. Ever since I was a baby, I had always worn it as protection from the dili-ingon-nato entities.

A strong wind chilled my spine as we approached the river. The big stones along the water’s edge glistened in the rays of sunlight, casting shivering shadows across the surface of the water. At a closer look, the body of the river appeared wider than one could see from above the hill. Various plants and trees lined its banks, their branches reaching out towards the water as if yearning to touch it. I could see the bridge in the distance. It wasn’t broken anymore; the braces were replaced with young and sturdy bamboo poles.

 I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we prepared to get on the descent down the river. I went down first and held lolo’s hand tightly, assisting him every step of the way. Tiya Amalia followed us to a more secluded place where we could put the candles on a big flat stone. When we arrived, I jumped in surprise when a frog landed on my feet with a soft plop. I had been accompanying lolo ever since but every time we had to do it, I felt nervous. I took a deep breath trying to calm myself. The sky was clear, and the water was calm; the silence was so loud. This section of the river was so remote that even if I screamed, no one would even hear. I laid the eco-bag containing the match, knife, and guava leaves on the ground.

“Lit the candles and don’t let them die,” Lolo Elias said.

I gave the match to Tiya Amalia and helped her protect the candlelight from the wind.

Lolo Elias then took the guava leaves and kneeled in front of the river. He closed his eyes and prayed in a language that I didn’t understand while waving the leaves in the air. The cool wind brushed our skin, the water became uneasy, and the grass seemed to dance along with the rhythm of the prayers.

After a few minutes, Lolo Elias stood up and signaled to Tiya Amalia to bring him the chicken. I covered the candle’s faint glow on my own, but the gusts of wind kept threatening to snuff them out.

From where I stood, I watched intently as Lolo Elias took the chicken from Tiya Amalia’s hands and began his ritual. Tiya Amalia held the chicken by its wings and legs tightly while Lolo gripped the head to find its neck and then he slashed it with a knife. He was murmuring words that I couldn’t quite make out. As the words flowed from Lolo Elias’ lips, I noticed a sense of reverence in his demeanor. The chicken screeched in fear. I slightly turned my head sideways, trying not to see. The sound of the knife against the chicken’s flesh competed with the foul’s shrieking. Goosebumps ran over my skin. The blood from the chicken’s neck dropped into the river and flowed down with the water.

“A life has been taken, another one must come.

The blood may travel to your land and guide the lost lamb.

A life has been taken, another one must come.

The blood may travel to your land and guide the lost lamb.”

 Lolo started chanting repeatedly until there were no drops of blood left and prayers remaining unsaid.

*

The same day, Itay returned home earlier than expected. When he walked over to me, his face was bright and unruffled, unlike before. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, revealing the fine lines of wrinkles in his eyes.

“That’s your favorite balolong, Gabri,” Itay said, patting my hair. He handed me a crumpled brown paper bag and headed inside the house. As I opened it, the aroma of newly baked garlic bread awoke my hungry stomach. I followed him into the kitchen where Inay was cooking law-oy for lunch.

“I was called into the office earlier, and management promised to pay us the minimum wage beginning this month!” Itay said. He was almost in tears as he told Inay about what had happened.

I couldn’t help but smile. Finally, our lives would be back to the way it used to be. I didn’t have to stress myself about school and Inay would no longer sleep late waiting for Itay to come home safely.

“That simple?” Inay said. “I thought they’ll ignore us until we give up.”

“Maybe they’re really scared that I’ll report them to Labor,” Itay said.

“Let’s hope they won’t take it back like the other promises they made before,” Inay said. She sounded worried but her eyes showed that she was relieved to hear the good news.

*

The next morning, the aroma of the simmering chicken and spices filled the air, tempting me to leave my bed. That day, Itay did not work and decided to make amends for the past weeks that he wasn’t home. He woke up early and cooked tenola with lolo’s native chicken.

“Let’s eat!” he said. He served us each a bowl of tenola. The steam rising from the bowl warmed my face, and I couldn’t wait to dig in. We both liked chicken liver, but he saved the whole piece just for me. It was the first time in a while that I had a nice breakfast. Though I wasn’t sure whether lolo knew it was his chicken. He enjoyed the food, so I assumed that he did.

“Gabriela, come here,” Itay said.“Can you disentangle this?” he said, pointing the fishing net on the ground. Itay was on the balcony sitting on the wooden bench while fixing the fishing rod. The old fishing net that he used to catch fish was clasped together. The stones tied to the bottom of the net had messed with the holes. Some parts had been worn and weathered. I wondered if this could still catch fish, maybe the big ones.

“You’ll go fishing, tay?” I said, untwining the ropes. Itay used to go fishing during weekends on the west side of the Hijo River where the water was calm and teeming with fish. At times, I would go with him and catch Guppies that I would treat as a pet for days.

“Yes. Do you want to come?” he said. He stood and helped me with the fishing net.

I nodded excitedly. As soon as we finished, he gave me the fishing rod while he took the pale and other things that we needed. When we were about to go, Inay reminded me not to make noises on our way so I wouldn’t disturb any spirits.

We left the house and started walking down the hill leading to the river’s edge. We walked carefully through the dense trail toward the fishing spot. Itay’s hilarious riddles along the way had me all the time. As we reached the riverbank, he began setting up his fishing net while I cast my line. I watched eagerly as he expertly spread the net and came down the water.

“Tay, I think I got a big one!” I said, struggling to stay in place. “It’s so heavy.”

“Hold on!” he said. Itay rushed to me. He put his hands over mine and helped me pull the rod. The fish seemed to be running around the water as the line was moving in directions. Seconds later, we both laughed as we saw that it was nothing but a little fish.

I got tired of waiting for fish to eat my bait, so I decided to run after the baby fish in the shallow part of the water. While Itay was busy catching fish that we would have for dinner later. Luckily, I got two of them and secured them in a plastic bottle. It was passed noon when we decided to go home. The sun was still shining brightly, casting a glow over the water.

When we arrived home, I transferred the guppies to the old glass jar that used to be a flower vase on the altar. Lolo Elias volunteered to cook the fish that Itay caught since there weren’t many patients that went on that day.

We spent the rest of the day helping Itay cut the hay in the yard. As the sun set and the night sky crept in, Itay laid out a mat on the floor. I walked on his back like I used to until we both fell asleep. I missed those moments with Itay when we were happy and complete. But just when I thought everything was going to be normal again, things took a turn for the worse.

*

Three days later, Itay didn’t return home. He didn’t say anything or act as if there was a problem before leaving the house for work the day he disappeared. He didn’t bring clothes or anything that he could use if he planned to stay somewhere for days. Inay knew that he didn’t have much money either when left. We had no idea where he was. At first, Inay thought that maybe there was a problem in the plantation, and they needed to stay overtime, but it had been three days, and no one, not even his coworkers, knew where he was.

People’s speculations grew stronger as the days passed. Our neighbor said they saw Itay recently buying fish at the downtown market. Some also swore to have seen him in another barangay, working in another plantation. But everyone seemed to conclude that Itay had been taken by Maria Cacao after someone saw him walking alone on the bridge late at night. They claimed to have called his name, but he did not respond.

Lolo Elias even performed the same ritual we did in the river to find Itay but until now, he hadn’t returned home yet. Inay hadn’t been sleeping since then. I could barely talk to her since she was always in bed, crying.

“There is a body floating in the river!” I heard the neighbor’s shocked voice echo through the small neighborhood. Everyone was rushing down the river to see who it was. I immediately put on my slippers and left my dishes unfinished. Since Itay had gone, I’d been doing most of the housework except for cooking other than rice.

 I hurried to the riverbank where a small crowd had already gathered. Thoughts of Itay’s body floating in the river were in my head. My heartbeat was fast, I had difficulty gasping for air, and my hands were shaking. I was having second thoughts about going closer when I heard Tiya Amalia’s cries. Pushing through the crowd, I caught sight of the lifeless figure on the ground.

“Who did this to you?!” Tiya Amalia cried, hugging his body.

The body of Mang Torio had been found floating face-down in the river, lifeless and motionless. His face was almost unrecognizable from the bruises and cuts that covered it. His body was already starting to bloat and decay in the water. People tried to pull Tiya Amalia from the body that had begun to rot, but she wouldn’t let go.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and the shock of it all left me feeling numb. I heard people whispering among themselves, speculating about what might have happened. I stepped backward and ran home. I thought of Itay. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness and unease. Did Maria Cacao really take him? Would she also return him lifeless when he was no longer useful to her? But Itay was hard working, I knew that Maria Cacao would like him enough to keep him.

 

*

After almost a year of waiting for Itay to come home, Inay decided that we both move to Leyte, leaving Lolo Elias behind. As he refused to come with us, saying he’d continue to help people with their illnesses. Fortunately, a cousin from Itay’s family side agreed to stay with him in the house and assist him with his needs.

I was still hesitant at first because apart from wanting to be in the house if ever Itay returned, I knew I would miss lolo a lot. He just turned fifty-nine a few months ago and I felt bad leaving him as he seemed to be getting more forgetful each day.

“Take care, lo ha,” I said. “I’ll text or call you. Always take your phone with you.”

“Don’t worry, Gabriela. We’ll see each other again,” he said, laughing softly.

*

During my school vacation break, Inay and I traveled to Leyte. I met all our relatives from her side whom I had seen for the first time. We stayed in my grandmother, Lola Pasita’s house since she was living there alone. Inay’s two other siblings already had a family of their own and lived in other barangays. Sometimes, they would visit us or the other way around.

“You look as beautiful as your mother, Gabriela,” Lola Pasita said. She smiled at me, and I could vividly see Inay’s uncanny resemblance with her even with her age. She welcomed us with open arms, and I could tell that she was excited to have us there.

Inay and lola were catching up in the living room while I looked around. The house was kind of different from ours back in Tagum. The design was that of a traditional Filipino house, with its wooden beams and capiz windows. Though there were evident signs of years of wear and tear, making the house seem weathered, it still exuded a sense of warmth and coziness.

“I’m glad you’re back for good,” Lola Pasita said. I was on the balcony looking at her flower garden, but I could hear their voices and giggles through the window.  For the first time after what had happened to us, I finally heard Inay’s genuine laugh again. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and I couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“I already prepared your room,” Lola said. “Bring your things in so we could have a merienda afterward.”

*

“How are you, lo?” I spoke. Lolo Elias would occasionally call or text me, so I didn’t really feel like he was miles away.

“I am okay now,” he said. Through the years, he grew weak. His diabetes worsened but didn’t want to go to the hospital. He told us that it was just a waste of money, and he had his own ways to cure himself.

“Don’t forget to drink your medicine,” I said. We talked a little before ending the call as he wanted to sleep.

After all, I could say that it was a good decision that we moved to Leyte. Lola Pasita helped Inay to have a small sari-sari store in the house to support our needs, especially my studies. I met my cousins and went to school with them. Every weekend, they would invite me to their houses for a sleepover and spend hours playing card games or telling each other stories. I had also the most unforgettable high school experiences. First on the list was when I had my first ever heartache with my ex-boyfriend. My grades dropped drastically after it, so I didn’t try to have another one. I also made a lot of friends. I would join my classmates and have fun with them every after class. At times, we would go to beaches and have a picnic or adventure in the mountains, which Inay knew as school activities. There was even a time when we went fishing in the nearby river and I remembered Itay. What my life could have been if he hadn’t disappeared? Would I regret not going here in Leyte? I felt bad not thinking about him that much anymore, but I realized life had its own way of healing our wounds and helping us move forward.

“You’re late again,” Inay said. “Gabriela, are you really studying?”

“I told you this morning that I’ll have to attend a webinar at school after class,” I said. Now that I was a junior in college, I  stayed out more than usual. Sometimes to drink out with friends but most of the time, to do stuff in the organization that I was part of. I was also dealing with someone special, but it was not that serious yet.

“Make sure that it is really school,” she said. “Think about what your father would say if he saw you.”

“He wouldn’t anyway,” I whispered to myself. Every moment like this, Inay would always bring Itay to the conversation. Honestly, I grew tired of it. Sometimes, I would think that no one really took him, he left us, but I felt sorry for Inay. After all these years, I knew she was still waiting. I would see her sitting on the balcony late at night, looking in the distance. Every time I asked her, she would simply say that it was just an old habit.

*

“Gabri, have you finished packing your clothes?” Inay said.

Lolo was rushed to the hospital last night. He collapsed while trying to make the oil he used for healing. He had been feeling weak and dizzy for a few days but didn’t think it was anything serious. The doctor told us that his diabetes had caused a major complication in his heart, and we needed to prepare for the worst for the next twenty-four hours. So, we decided to return home for the first time since we first moved to Leyte before it was too late.

“Yes, nay,” I said. I zippered my hand-carry luggage and put it on the floor near the door. It had been almost a decade and a part of me wanted to see what our sitio looked like now or if our neighbors were still there.

It was 1:00 p.m. when we reached the terminal. After we purchased tickets at the ticketing counter, we sat on the waiting chair. Our scheduled ferry going to Butuan was expected to arrive in a few minutes. While waiting, a nostalgic feeling came over me. The bustling surroundings with passengers busy boarding and disembarking, others checking in luggage and boarding passes, and some browsing shops and restaurants reminded me of the first time when I was here. I wondered if our sitio hadn’t changed much either.

“Let’s go, Gabri,” Inay said. After the security checks, we were directed to the entrance of the ferry, an employee verified our tickets and allowed us inside. We put our bags on the other side and chose our seats. There weren’t too many passengers, unlike the last time I was here.

After we had dinner in a self-service cafeteria, I decided to sleep so I would have enough energy tomorrow when we arrived.

“Gabriela…” I woke up to the voice of Itay calling my name.

“Tay?” I mumbled in reply. Everything was dark except for the open door in front of my bed.

“It’s time to wake up,” he said, his voice filled with excitement and urgency.

Inay changed her sleeping position, her movements woke me up. I yawned and pulled the covers off my head. I rubbed my eyes and realized that it was one of those dreams again. I hadn’t had this dream for a long time. Perhaps, it triggered my memory because we were traveling back to our sitio. I sat up, allowing the remnants of the dream to fade away. Stretching my arms, I glanced at the clock and realized it was still three in the morning. I looked around, the waves of the sea, and the sound of the engine gave music to the place. I stood up to find the comfort room.

The static noise from the TV on the wall filled the area near the CR. I thought of turning it off after I peed, but when I came out of the cubicle, my eyes were greeted by dazzling light. I covered my face with my hands and walked to the side to see what happened. I was confused, everything wasn’t how it looked earlier. The old blue walls became glass with intricate gold designs. The old lightbulbs were replaced with big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling illuminating the entire place. The big tables with fancy silverware were laid out for dining. There were waiters serving food and wine, but no one was seated at any of the tables. Maybe there was a party that hadn’t started yet? I thought to myself.

I looked around, trying to figure out if I entered the wrong room, but I couldn’t find a door—not even the door of the cubicle I came from. A familiar sight caught my eye from the window to my right. We were about to cross a bridge. I got goosebumps and my heart started racing. I moved in closer to see where I was. I froze in place, hands over my mouth.

“Hijo River?” I said to myself. I turned around, this grand place wasn’t the ferry anymore. I tried to approach the waiters, but they only continued to serve as though they didn’t hear me.

I called Inay countless times while running around, but no one answered until I bumped into someone. The first thing I noticed was her long white dress. It was flowing down to the floor and was made of a light, delicate fabric that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. As I looked at her, her long hair flowed down covering the thin straps of the gown crossing over her shoulders.

“Who…are you?” I spoke. Even though at the back of my mind, I always knew who she was.

She didn’t bother to respond. She walked straight to the longest table and sat in the middle. She then looked at me, her eyes were speaking, wanting me to sit down.

Every nerve in my body wanted me to follow her. I took a seat in front of her. She looked so pure, her face was merciful, and her actions were soft. She then held out her hand and offered the food in front of us.

I slowly took the food on my plate, but just as I was about to take a bite, someone grabbed my hand.

“I have been looking for you,” Inay said, yawning.

I looked around and saw that I had been standing in front of the cubicle the entire time. I sighed heavily as if I had been holding my breath for a long time. I hugged her, I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to me if Inay hadn’t come.

“Are you okay?” she said. She furrowed her brows and faced me. I shook my head and smiled weakly.

 

*

In the morning our ferry embarked at the Butuan terminal. After we had breakfast at a small cafe near the port, we headed to the bus stop to catch the bus going to Tagum. As we boarded, Inay told me that I should sleep again so that I would feel refreshed when we arrived. The bus ride was long, but after what had happened earlier, I couldn’t get back to sleep anymore. I was still in disbelief, in awe of what I’d seen.

It was 11:00 am when we finally reached Tagum, the sun was high in the sky. We decided to have lunch at home since it wouldn’t take long to arrive at our sitio. While we were on the tricycle, Itay’s cousin who was with Lolo Elias in the hospital called me.

“Nay, Lolo Elias passed away,” I said. “They said we’ll go straight to the morgue later.” My heart sank as I said those words to her after the call. I could feel the weight of sorrow settling in. Inay was in utter shock and sadness, with eyes filled with disbelief. We knew it would happen anytime soon, but I thought I could still see him alive once again.

The tricycle came to a halt when we were at the bridge’s mouth. People were gathering around. The driver got off and asked someone in the crowd. He then returned and told us that we couldn’t cross because the bridge was broken. If we want, we could ride a bamboo raft to reach the other side.

“What a coincidence! the bridge was broken on the day we returned,” Inay said. She handed our fare to the tricycle driver. I helped her take out our bags and stood on the side of the road, not far from the people.

“Caridad, is that you?” A woman who had now a slightly hunched back and wrinkles etched across her face approached us. Inay and I both recognized her face right away.

“Amalia! How long has it been since we last saw each other,” Inay said.

Tiya Amalia put her bayong down and stood closer to us. “You look nothing like the last time I saw you here, Gabriela,” she said. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment.

They then turned to each other, catching up on the things that had occurred in our Sitio for the years that we weren’t here.

“By the way, why is the bridge broken again?” Inay said, looking at the bridge behind us.

“Hay, it was really hot here yesterday but suddenly it rained around midnight,” Tiya Amalia said. “It rained so hard that it must have damaged the bridge.”

“After all these years, the barangay hasn’t fixed this problem?”

“I heard this time they’re going to replace it with metal.”

They continued to talk about some other things while I was busy catching a signal on my phone to call Itay’s cousin and tell him about Lolo Elias.

“I almost forgot, it’s good that you’re here so you can give your testimony against the plantation,” she said.

“Testimony about what?” Inay asked.

“The plantation is facing multiple murder charges, including the murder of my husband. You didn’t know?”

I was stunned. My mind turned blank as the reality of the situation sank in. I looked at Inay, her tear-streaked face revealed the truth I was desperately trying to deny. Itay had been murdered, a chilling moment of realization. He was not taken by some entities, and on top of that, he didn’t leave us. The shock and sorrow overwhelmed me as I tried to comprehend everything.

I went closer to the bridge. Its weathered wooden planks creaked under my weight as I stood on it, feeling the soft sway of the bamboo beneath me. My hands gripped the rails, looking at the Hijo River. The water was calm and serene, gliding peacefully over smooth rocks and reflecting the vibrant colors of the surrounding trees. A stark contrast to the windy and stormy emotions I was feeling. Tears were streaming down my face.

“I’ll fight for your justice, just as you fought for us, tay,” I said.

Calmness filled the air, but the pressing feelings I felt were bigger than the river, bigger than stones, bigger than the ferry, big and heavy of all.

***

Diane Pearl O. Templado is a third-year BA English (Creative Writing) student at the University of the Philippines Mindanao. She believes in reincarnation and wants to be a bird in her next life.

The Birthday

Fiction by | October 23, 2023

But I don’t misread you. I’m seldom mistaken in a man. I think you mean to make your mark in this world. Am I wrong?

No sir.

—Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness of the West

 

The soldier slithered down the hole. It took him quickly to dig one, enough to stretch his legs and light a cigarette where he could be hidden. At night lighting a cigarette in the open was a fatal thing to do. You would not want to attract snipers zeroing in on your burning cancer stick. It’s not that it happened to his unit or someone he knew. He’s just damn sure that these things occurred in life, and death is inevitable if to think otherwise. It was a matter of common sense. But these things were far from his thoughts. After years of patrolling these jungles, exchanging gun fire with the enemies, everything was automatic. Common sense was the only thing that stayed. Truth, happiness, even survival was but an illusion. In the hole the soldier heard the burning tobacco. He felt the smoke in his face and the loose soil as he kicked his feet forward.

It’s your birthday tomorrow, kid.

The kid was reminded by their reconnaissance specialist. The man was in his late forties. He was short, stocky, and unusually quick on his feet. He was the type to remember dates, the sharp bend of a river, the number of bullets left in your magazine.

The kid jolted from resting his back and legs and squatted like a baboon who had just been alarmed by an apex predator. The kid’s head emerged from his hole; his eyes squinted and adjusted to the dark that was pushing the moon’s soft glow which was filtered through the leaves onto the realm of the shadows. The kid looked at the cigarette; it lingered enough between his fingers. He took a final puff, inhaled the smoke too deep in his lungs, his head turned light. He flicked the butt to the ground and covered it with dirt.

The kid called the old man, Paps, for obvious reasons. The recon master was the father figure the kid would invent on his many tours in Basilan. Paps taught the kid many things but there is one advice from the old man that stuck with the kid since: always look ahead and keep your attention to where the sound of the firing came from. The old man did not fail to remind the kid that when the time comes there is nothing one can do, but make sure you bring as many sons of bitches with you in kingdom come.

Tomorrow, you will break your vows. Said Paps.

It is scary we are turning this into a ritual. Kid said.

It is not though. You break it so you can make anew.

The old soldier slipped in the many gaps of the very dark jungle. Every step he would take was measured, deliberate, leaving almost no trace of his passage. His senses were attuned to the sound of nature – the swishing of leaves, the distant call of birds, the faint rustling of animals in the underbrush. He would be making a circle, a wide one, to make sure they would pass the night without having to shoot somebody.

The night was still young, and the kid felt restless. Kid was tall and lean, and his rolled-up sleeves choked his toned biceps like a sphygmomanometer torturing a vein to betray its secrets. He moved lightly along the secured perimeter, wading at times over the lush thicket of bushes, a well-choreographed dance between the explorer and the untamed undergrowth. The atmosphere seemed denser as the kid halted before gigantic trees that stood with indifference. He reached for the nearest tree and leaned on it and put all his weight on his back, feeling its rough and sturdy trunk. Kid smiled and relished the cool that was transferred from the tree’s body to his. He looked up at the erratic patterns of the branches, like an outstretched, twisted arms of belabored men. Kid dared not imagine the time passed between these trees and the night.

The kid realized he was not alone. Several paces at his 3 o’clock a short balete tree gave off a faint frisson of excitement. The stories of old, the ones told in his childhood in moments when darkness usurped supremacy from light, had places eerily populated by these exact trees. The thick leaves were barely penetrable, yet his eyes could time the familiar pattern of a smoker’s rhythm, two quick intake and a long-drawn release of smoke. The ember’s glow intensified briefly as if marking a start of a supernatural devise, one that requires enchantment, the collective ignorance of the tribe, and most commonly a daydreamer who is easily wafted from her realities to a realm of fantasy and magic. Axel was perched like a bird on top of the tree, smoking a cigarette and relaxing.

The M240B machine gun was sandwiched between the kid’s legs, its buttstock fixed on the ground. He looked up at Axel one more time. Axel nonchalantly tossed the finished cigarette into the leaves, the last of the embers causing sparks to shoot all over the place. He then climbed down from his nest, agile and powerful and exquisite. The kid caressed the barrel of his M240B. Kid placed the weapon leaning against the tree, its buttstock now snugged among its roots.

Axel swung from one branch to the next, his descent marked by wild ducks passing by. He gracefully clipped his strong hands on the gaps on the strangler fig, his sockless feet wedged firmly along the intricate pattern of the strangler. The soldier’s primary weapon, the 5th generation of Marine Scout Sniper Rifle, faintly swayed as he scaled down the tree, taking time with the rhythm of Axel’s muscles as his back contorted in the struggle. The rifle felt like a natural extension of Axel’s limbs, as if his body was made to hold a five-kilo gun in its scabbard.

Axel sat on a large root, with one combat shoe on and a bright flame that advertised his head for anyone who was steady and decent enough of a shot. The kid approached Axel through a fallen branch that looked like a hedgerow at first glance. The branch was a little elevated so there was enough space under it for wild boars to trot. Kid easily managed through the hurdle and kept a considerable distance from Axel. Kid regarded Axel as the deadliest shot he ever met yet there was an air of carelessness and abandon in him.

The kid knew something was off in his head; he just could not quietly find the right word for it. It was a compulsion, to dig a hole and let the earth partially swallow you, the kid would be pointing out to himself from time to time. The kid thought about these things for a long time. Every time he was confronted by the night, in rain or in the humid atmosphere of the jungle, whether the sounds of frogs or crickets change the quality of air, the darkness of the night, the cursory production of his thoughts, he came to realize that the moment and space which he occurred and all that was present within his immediate experience was but a compulsion by something unimaginable and terrifying.

How old will you be tomorrow? He asked the kid.

Twenty-eight.

They talked a little. They were sparse with words. The long succession of thoughts was but a slave to the jungle, its impenetrable darkness. Perhaps out of boredom the kid told Axel how he almost died when he was seventeen. He was bitten by a snake because he tried to play with it, too stupid not to respect its power.

I was becoming a snake. My eyes were droopy, and I felt coiling over.

Like getting bitten by a rabid dog.

Was it the exact moment you realized that you are not afraid of death?

No, not that time. It was long after that. My first tour of duty. My buddy was struck in the chest. It was a routine encounter gone bad. Of course, I peed on my fatigue trousers.

 

He rubbed his eyes and gently massaged them. He heard a growl from a distance. The sound was from a wild boar in a hole. He was fully awake now, his senses acute. The kid jumped off from his hole. The kid stretched his legs from side to side, kicking the air at times. He stretched his arms as if grabbing something from the air. He threw some punches, straights, and then short jabs. He then squatted for several minutes. Kid checked his watch again. He should do it quickly before the sun was up.

From his service backpack the kid pulled out a sword. The scabbard was made of mahogany wood, selected for its durability and appealing grain patterns. It was carefully polished which made its surface smooth, a testament to the expert craftmanship only a master swordsmith from the town of Tugaya was capable of. The brass decorative elements meticulously embedded into the wood accentuated its elegance. The brass accents featured intricate filigree patterns and delicate swirls that caught the light and casted enchanting shadows as they wrapped around the scabbard.

Many years ago, he travelled to Lanao del Sur, to a village in Tugaya to seek a master swordsmith. The Meranaos were known for their quality craftmanship. Kid learned about the Rentaka, or the swivel cannon made of bronze from the book Kuta Bato. Tucked in the southwest side of Lake Lanao, Tugaya was home to the highly skilled artisans who crafted his kris. Kid squeezed its hilt and unsheathed the sword. He swung the sword several times, mastering its balance. The kris was swift in the air; it swished as it cut through the cool breeze at dawn. He was careful not to cut the overgrown bushes or shrubs. He started off as he opened his eyes wide, his feet were quick against the treacherous grounds. Kid’s brows narrowed, his countenance, in the greying light, filled with intent.

He made it no time where a goat was tied to a bush. The mujahid, motionless, remained tied to a tree. His hands and feet were bound, and he was pressed against the tree with a rope. His mouth was tightly bound with cloth and a duct tape made sure it was secured. Kid looked at the goat as it started feeding off the grass. On his waist was his kris hanging and he touched it and felt the wooden scabbard was cold. The man was already awake, and his eyes were blood shot. The man was short and lean who looked like he never had eaten in weeks. He shivered in the cold and hunger.

Kid took out a knife and cut the rope which bound the man from the tree. He then proceeded to cut the duct tape that held the cloth to muffle his mouth. His eyes were without emotions, as if signalling to do the thing what the kid came for. His hair was greasy and covered his forehead. The man had a small nose and his dry mouth crooked, almost drooping on one side.

Have you talked to God?

The man’s lips undulated, his mouth constant of its reach for the mysterious. Then it stopped. His face tightened; his teeth pressed hard against each other. The man’s eyes were wide as ever, tired, and indifferent.

In the delirium of the prayer the kid had already in his hand the kris. He had some memories that returned to him before he was to do the act. They were all pictures now with blurry edges. What was about to happen was as insignificant as those that he thought at first worthy of introspection. Kid’s mind did not evoke fear nor pain nor ill-will nor shame. He had no desire to struggle and triumph against everybody, to master life and at times to bring an end to it.

With one swift motion the kris slashed through the throat of the prisoner. The kid realized that what he was doing begun for him before the first time he entered the jungle, before he trained and hardened his body and learned how to shoot. It was important that the kid acknowledge that.

He hacked the side of the head and blood squirted from the crack. He hacked the shoulders and limbs. Kid stabbed at the heart and the stomach; the bowel exposed in the cold air. The body leaned on the tree now. It shook as it received blows, the metal crashing against the bones and flesh. The connection of their consciousness was severed now. The prisoner was no longer a man now; the body was more like branch in the jungle that fell and made a thud against the ground. The kid was exhausted, and he stopped.

Alter is 42 years old and lives with his mother. He teaches English and literature at La Salle University in Ozamis City. He is trying to finish his MA in Creative Writing at Silliman University. He plays tennis and ponders on writing a book of poetry about the game and the people who play it. He was a fellow for poetry in the 28th Iligan National Writers Workshop.

Alimpulo

Fiction by | September 25, 2023

(This story won 1st Prize in the 6th Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya.)

Namauli na sa ilahang mga panimalay ang mga babaye nga nanugat sa bag-ong dunggong sakayan daplin sa baybay. Apan tua gihapon si Ulik sa ilahang tugkaran. Gipaningot na ang bagulbagol niini samtang nagyampungad sa iyahang inahan nga si Linay.

“Nay, mouban lagi kong Tatay ba!” segun ni Ulik. Gibira niini ang sidsid sa sanina sa inahan nga niadtong taknaa nanghayhay sa mga nilabhan didto dapit sa ilahang bungsaran tapad sa usa ka dakong bangka nga gitawag og poso.

“Naunsa man ka ‘Lik, pagkagahi na ba nimog ulo!” singhag sa iyang inahan nga nangagho tungod sa kahago nga gibati. Bag-uhay ra man god midunggo ang iyahang amahan gikan sa lawud sulod sa pipila ka semana, maong daghan na sab og mga bulingon nga gipanglabhan iyahang inahan. Wala pa niini nawaswasan ang usa ka planggana nga nagtapun-og.

“Sige na god Nay!” pag-usab ni Ulik. Nagsampok ang kilay niini.

“Nganong mamugos man gyod ka?!” singka ni Linay nga naundang og panghayhay ug gitan-aw ang anak nga laki.

“Nganong ang uban bata toa nas lawud, makauban sila sa mga bangka, ako dili?” pangutana ni Ulik. Hinay-hinay nga mitulo ang iyahang luha uban sa iyahang midagaygay nga singot. Iyahang nawung susama sa usa ka gamayng bata nga nagbisgo kay gikuhaan og dulaan. Mora bag nahugno gyod iyahang kalibutan tungod kay dili siya tugutan mosakay og bangka ug moadto og lawud.

“Si Odo man gani nakaadto nas Takot, nganong ako bawal? Iyahang Ate Mirasol man gani nakaadto na pod didto!” pag-usab sa lalaki nga dili na bata apan dili pa sab hamtong nga ulitawo.

Wala makapugong sa kaugalingon ang inahan nga si Linay. Sa tumang kakusog misyagit siya.

“Kay tulo imohang alimpulo!” ni Linay nga morag turo nga nag-aso ang ilong.

Wala makatingug si Ulik sa iyahang nadungog bag-uhay lang.

“Maong gahi sab kaayo ka pasabton!” dugang pa sa iyahang Nanay Linay unya mipadayon sa pagpuga sa mga nilabhan.

“Kay tulo akong alimpulo?” gilitok pag-usab ni Ulik ang mga pulong nga gibuhian sa iyahang inahan. Tama diay. Karun lang siya kabantay. Gihikap niya ang iyahang ulo.

“O! Dili puyde managat ang mga tulo og alimpulo,” segun sa iyahang Nanay. “Ngano man diay Nay?” pagtuki pag-usab ni Ulik nga nalibog gihapon.

“Ay ambot! Kadaghan og mga pangutana!” tubag sa iyahang inahan nga niadtong taknaa niadtog bomba arun waswasan ang ubang sanina.

Tungod wala makasabot ang bata nga si Ulik, dali siya nga mipapahawa sa ilahang panimalay. Adtuon niya ang iyahang Tatay Vicente nga namanlot og bangka nga bag-o ra midunggo niaging gabie. Toa kini sa mabaw nga bahin sa dagat kay gihinluan man niini ang lawas sa pedikaber nga gisakyan uban ang pipila ka mga mananagat. Gitanggal ni Ulik iyahang tsinelas ug gisul-ob niyas iyahang siko, dayon misalum siya paadto sa bangka. Didto nahikaplagan niya iyahang amahan nga gipangtanggal ang mga lumot sa sakayan.

“Tay! Tay!” ni Ulik samtang nag-abay sa katig.

“Uy, Dong, nganong naa man ka dinhi?” pangutana sa iyahang amahan nga morag nakuratan sa gibuhat sa iyahang anak.

“Tay, nganong di man puyde managat ang tulog alimpulo?” ni Ulik nga nagkahinam nga tubagon sa amahan.

“Kinsay nag-ingon?” pangutana sa iyahang Tatay. “Si Nanay e!” segun ni Ulik sa amahan.

“Uli sa didto, tabangi si Nanay nimo,” tubag sa iyahang Tatay nga morag nagpatay-mali sa iyahang pangutana.

“Pagtarung kay tingalig makatamak ka dinhag sisi,” dugang pa niini.

Nisamot og kaunlod ang pagbati ni Ulik. Nakita sab niya nga daghan kaayog gipanghimo ang ubang mananagat didto, dili gyod siya matagad sa iyahang amahan maong nakahukom siya nga mosalum paadto sa lapyahan. Paghaw-as niya, dali niya nga gibutang ang iyahang tsinelas, gisul-ob kini ug nagdagan-dagan paingon sa balay sa iyahang Lolo Narding, ang amahan sa iyahang Tatay Vicente. Kabalo ang iyahang Lolo sa daghang mga butang bahin sa mga giyera, sigbin, sirena ug sa uban pang mga misteryo sa kalibutan. Tingalig matubag niini ang iyahang pangutana.

“Ayo! Lo!” singgit niya bisag tua pa siya sa bungsaran sa panimalay sa iyahang apuhang laki. Nagtulo-tulo iyahang sanina.

Pagkakita sa iyaha sa iyahang Lolo niundang kini og tahi og pukot. “Unsa may ato Dong?” tubag sa iyahang apuhang laki.

“Lo, nganong dili man puyde managat ang tulo og alimpulo?” pangutana ni Ulik bisag wala pa gani kini makalingkod sa lingkuranang kahoy.

“Kadiyot lang Dong, basa ka man lagi?” pangutana sa iyahang Lolo Narding.

“Gikan kos kabatuan Lo, didto kang Tatay,” ni Ulik nga milingkod sa lingkuranang kahoy. Nagtulo-tulo pa kini.

Nagpadayon og tahi og pukot ang Lolo ni Ulik. Kuhaon naman god ang pukot sa ilahang suki nga mananagat.

“Lo, unsa diay ang naa sa akoang alimpulo? Nganong di man ko puyde moadtog lawud?” ni Ulik nga nagluko-luko sa daplin.

“Kay ngano man? Gusto diay nimo managat?” pangutana pag-usab sa tiguwang.

Mipahiyom kini.

“O Lo e! Gusto ko makakita sa lawud. Ingon ni Tatay daghan kayo didtog dagko nga isda! Unya magsidlak-sidlak daw sila matag gabie!” sugilon niini sa apohan.

“Dili diay ka mahadlok?” pangutana pag-usab sa tiguwang sa iyaha. Nagpadayon kini sa iyahang ginabuhat.

“Nganong mahadlok man ko Lo? Dako naman ko,” magarbohong tubag sa bata. Gipakita niini ang iyahang bukton. Gipanghinambog ang iyahang gamayng masels.

“Gusto pod nako makakuwarta arun makapalit kog bayk,” tug-an niini.

Gitan-aw siya sa apohang laki. Nanghupaw kini. “Duko,” sugo niini sa iyaha.

Nagduha-duha si Ulik apan miduko siya.

“Usa, duha, tulo. Tulo!” nagbilang-bilang iyahang apohang laki nga wala gayod kapugngi ang kalingaw.

“Hahaha! Tulo gyod diay imohang alimpulo Dong,” katawa pag-usab sa iyahang Lolo. “Bantog ra dili ka palawudon sa imohang Nanay,” sumala pa niini kang Ulik.

“Ngano gani Lo?” ni Ulik nga niadtong taknaa dili na gyod makahulat sa tubag sa iyahang apuhan.

“Kay lagi, ang mga bata nga adunay daghang alimpulo, dili angay molawud. Kining linya nga nagpasirkol sa imohang bagulbagol, mao nang alimpulo,” tubag sa tiguwang.

Gihikap ni Ulik ang iyahang ulo. Nagyango-yango siya paghuman naglingo-lingo. Mora ba og dili gihapon makatuo.

“Nganong dili man ko puyde managat Lo?” pangutana niya pag-usab.

“Paminaw og maayo, ipasabot nako sa imoha,” segun sa iyahang Lolo unya miundang og tahi og pukot. Giatubang niini si Ulik.

“Kay niadtong unang panahon, sa usa ka layong dapit, adunay usa ka lalaki nga susama nimo ang gusto sab moadtog lawud. Ganahan sab siya makakita sa tunga-tunga sa dagat ug sa katahom niini, busa gisakyan niya ang bangka sa iyahang Tatay. Mibugsay siya nga mibugsay palayo sa Baybay. Apan, sa dihang nagsugod na siya og bugsay palayo, dali nga miharos ang kusog kaayong hangin. Nakaabot ang mananagat sa lawud. Apan naabtan siya og bagyo. Naguba ang iyahang sakayan ug napalid siya sa usa ka isla nga dili makaplagan bisag ni kinsang mga tawo. Bisan pa ang mga mananagat nga kaluha nas dagat ug naniguwang sa pagpanagat. Wala na siya nakabalik sa mala. Mihilak ang iyahang ginikanan ug nangitag rason nganong nahitabo kadto. Iyahang anak isog ug kusgan. Kabalo sab kini mulangoy ug kini ang pinakataas og utong sa tanang mga lalaki sa ilahang baryo kon kini magpataasay nag ginhawa sa ilawum sa dagat. Apan naunsang pagkaunsa man kadto? Maong gisugo sa inahan iyahang kamaguwangang anak nga pangitaon sa lawud ang igsuon. Misugot ang anak tungod kay gipalangga man nila ilahang inahan ug dili nila gusto nga makita kini nga naminghuy ug daw himalatyon. Nanagat iyahang igsuon apan wala na sab kini makabalik. Nakapangutana ang inahan, naunsa man kaha iyahang mga anak sa lawud? Tungod sa iyahang mga pangutana, gipadala na sab niya iyahang usa ka anak. Mao lang gihapon ang nahitabo! Apan iyahang mga silingan nga adunay mga anak nga lalaki, nakauli man ug adunay dala nga daghan nga isda ug mga nokus! Usa ka adlaw, nag-estoryahanay ang magti-ayon kabahin sa ilahang suliran. Nanagat ang amahan nila ug gibiyaan ang babaye. Nakabalik kini sa baybayun apan wala na hikaplagi ang mga anak niining laki. Nihilak ang inahan ug iyahang nahinumduman nga ang iyahang mga anak adunay tulo ka mga alimpulo sa ulo. Ug mao kini ang iyahang nakita nga hinungdan nganong wala na nakabalik ang mga hinigugma.”

Nagpitok-pitok ra ang mga mata ni Ulik samtang nag sugilon ang iyahang apuhang laki, apan wala niya nasabtan ang tanan. Maong nangutana siya pag-usab.

“Unsa diay nahitabo sa iyaha sa lawud Lo?” segunda ni Ulik. Nidako ang iyahang mga mata. Mora bag naintriga sab sa nadungog nga sugilanon.

“Gihigop siya sa pusod sa dagat. Kita nimo imohang alimpulo, kapareho kinig nawung sa pusod sa dagat ug mata sa bagyo. Nagpasirkol. Giingon nga ang bata nga duhag alimpulo walay swerte sa dagat. Pangitaunon kini sa panganod, maunlod kini sa kinahiladman hangtud sa kahangturan. Higupon kinis balud, suyupon kini sa lawud, paingon sa ilalum sa katubigan,” tubag niini.

Nakatawa si Ulik sa sugilon sa iyahang Lolo. Hapit siya madunlan sa iyahang laway.

“Dili ko mutuo ana Lo oy, panghadlok lang na!” matud pa ni Ulik. Dali siya nga mitindog. Nananghid siya sa apuhan nga mopauli nas ilaha. Pag-abot niya sa ilahang lawak gilantaw niya ang iyahang alimpulo. Mikuha siya og usa ka samin og gibutang kini sa taas sa iyahang ulo.

Gilantaw niya sa pikas samin ang pikas samin arun makita kon tinuod ba gyod nga tulo iyahang alimpulo.

Ug tinuod gayod.

Tulo iyahang alimpulo. Nagpasirkol kini. Nagtapadanay pa. Trese na siya apan karun ra siya makabantay. Kay karun ra man pod ni nahimong dakong butang sa iyahang Nanay.

Maong nalibog ang bata nga si Ulik kon unsaon pagtanggal sa iyahang alimpulo? Nganong tulo gyod? Nganong dili man isa. Nalagot siya. Kon puwede lang unta tanggalon ang mga alimpulo! Nganong karun lang man ni nagpasurang-surang sa iyaha.

Usa ka adlaw niana miadto si Ulik sa bilyaran, sa ilahang tambayanan sa iyahang mga higala. Gusto niya masayran ang kamatuoran maong nakahukom siya nga lantawun ang mga alimpulo sa iyahang mga kadula kadtong nagdula og taksi sa ilahang bungsaran. Tingalig naa sab siyay kauban nga tulo og alimpulo.

“Doy, duko god?” segun niya sa higala nga si Odoy.

“Ha?”

“Sige na ba!”

“Naunsa god ka?”

Gipaduko ni Ulik ang iyahang kaestorya.

“Unsa diay imohang ginatan-aw ha?” pangutana niini sa iyaha.

“Isa lang lagi imong alimpulo?” naasuy ni Ulik nga morag gibinuangan sa higayon. Gibuhian niini ang tangkugo sa kauban.

“Naunsa diay ka?” pangutana niadtong Odo sa iyaha. Natingala siya sa gihimo niini bag-uhay lang.

“Ingon man god sa akoang Nanay di ko angay managat kay tulo akoang alimpulo.” Pagkadungog sa iyahang ubang kadula nagkamatay kinig katawa. Morag mulogsot na ang mga mata niini. Nakahilak ang uban sa kahimuot. Ang pipila niya ka kadula gikalingawan og lantaw ang alimpulo ni Ulik.

“Ingon sa akoang Nanay ang duha og alimpulo kay badlungon kaayo,” segun sa iyahang kadula na si Karlo.

“Bantog ra permi ka mabunalan hahahahaha!” komedya niini sa iyaha.

“Wahahaha! Bugoy! Bugoy!” kantiyaw sa uban.

“Hala kakuyaw god nimo ‘Lik no? Puyde na ka magpa-Jessica Soho!” matud pa sa iyahang kadula nga si Lalang.

Nangatawa ang uban bata.

Apan nagkulismaot gihapon ang nawung ni Ulik. Wala siya nalipay. Sa tanan tawo sa purok Baybay, nganong siya pa man? Nakapangalot siya sa iyahang ulo.

“Magpaupaw na lang kaha ko?” segun ni Ulik sa kaugalingon samtang naglakaw pauli sa ilaha. Nalabyan niya ang iyahang Angkol Bador nga nagpintura sa bag-o niini nga pakura. Morag ilusbog nila ni sa tubig sunod semana. Nalingian siya sa iyahang angkol og gipangutana siya niini.

“Uy, ‘Lik aha god ka?”

“Pauli Kol,” ni Ulik.

“Uban sunod ha, kon mahuman ni, manokus ta sa lawud,” sulti sa iyahang kaestorya. Nitando lamang si Ulik. Nipahiyom unya naminghoy.

“Kol, tinuod to nga dili puyde managat ang tulog alimpulo?” pangutana niya sa lalaki.

“O. Akoa bitawng igsuon, wala na gyod makabalik sukad-sukad,” tubag sa iyaha sa kaestorya.

Nidako ang mata ni Ulik sa nadungog gikan sa iyahang Angkol. “Ngano man Kol?” pangutana niya.

“Mao nay di nako matubag kay wa na gani makabalik. Giahak ka ‘Lik!” tubag niini unya mibuhakhak.

Nagpanglingo si Ulik sa nadungog. Tinuod gyod kaha ang sulti sa mga karaang tawo? Nikunot iyahang agtang. Nananghid siya nga modayon nas iyahang paglakaw. Nagpadayon siya sa paglakaw pauli sa ilahang balay. Naagian niya ang nataran sa ilahang silingan nga si Alan. Mang-alutay kini. Suki niini ang mga mananagat sa ilaha nga bag-o ra midunggo og tag-as na kaayo og buhok. Pati mga bata, didto sab nagapagupit. Nakahuna-huna si Ulik nga magpa-upaw! Apan kon magpaupaw siya kabalo siya nga kataw-an na sab siya sa uban bata og tawagon siyang Ulik-upaw. Dili siya oy. Maulaw pod siya kay Kesha. Tong gwapa nga anak sa iyahang Angkol Bador. Kras niya. Ug usa pa, makalilisang nga senaryo ang nakita niya ugaling magpaupaw siya.

Maong pag-uli nila sa iyahang balay, dali nga giadtuan ni Ulik sa kusina ang iyahang inahan. Naabtan niya kini nga naghaling sa ilahang abuhan. Nakita sab niya ang isda sa kaldero nga gibutangan og ahos, paminta, ug suka. Kabalo siya nga paksiw na sab ilahang sud-an.

“Nay, magpapalit kog kalo,” ni Ulik.

“Nganong magkalo-kalo man pod ka?” pangutana sa iyahang Nanay nga nanginis og kaldero sa ilahang banggerahan.

“Kay para… Wala lang god!” ni Ulik.

“Ay dili. Sayang-sayang lang kag kwarta ‘Lik!” tubag sa iyahang inahan nga si Linay.

Wala na namugos si Ulik. Nagtimi-timi siyag kaon sa ilahang panihapon. Wala gihapon siya malipay bisag gihatag na sa iyahang Ate Klarita ang duha ka mata sa isda nga iyahang paborito lanlanun.

Pagkasunod adlaw, sayo pa kaayo miuban na si Ulik sa pagpanugat sa mga bag-ong dunggo nga bangka sa ilahang dapit. Tua siya sa lapyahan nagkahinam nga motabang og alsa sa mga gamit sa mga mananagat arun makakuwarta. Arun makapalit og kalo. Nakita niya ang mga isdang burot, tulay, perit ug dagko kaayong pandawan nga gisulod sa kontiner.

“Tabang mi Kol,” segun ni Ulik sa iyahang Angkol Lingling ug Angkol Bador.

Mitando ang mga mananagat. Tua pod iyahang mga kauban.

“Gusto nako managat. Wala pa ko kauban ila Tatay sa lawud,” matod niya samtang gidayungan nila sa ubang bata ang baro niadtong Lingling.

“Di ko ganahan didto kay makasuka ko,” matud pang Yoyong.

“Lain didto kay wala kay makita, langit lang ug dagat,” sumpay ni Kukoy nga nagsunod-sunod ra sa ilaha.

“Gusto gihapon nako makaadto,” ni Ulik samtang naglantaw sa lapyahan.

Sa huna-huna ni Ulik kadaghanan sa mga batang lalaki nakasuway nag-adto sa lawud, siya na lang ang wala. Paminaw niya nabiyaan na siya sa panon. Gusto sab niya makapalit og bayk maong gusto niya managat. Dili siya palitan sa iyahang Tatay bisag maka-jackpot kini. Daghan man pod god silag utang sa tindahan nilang Neneng unya daghan na pod silag pildi sa e-sabong.

Paghuman niya og tabang sa mga mananagat, gitagaan siya og usa ka gatos niadtong Lingling. Daghan pa unta og pangutana si Ulik apan nagdali siya nga moadtos tindahan arun mangitag baratuhon nga kalo apan gitawag siya sa iyahang maguwang baye.

“‘Lik! Ali!” segun niini samtang nag-alsa og palanggana nga napuno og mga isda nga ilahang ibaligya.

Nakapangalot sa ulo si Ulik apan nakita niya nga nagsampok na ang kilay sa iyahang maguwang baye, maong nagdagan-dagan siya paadto sa gitindugan sa magulang.

“Aha diay ta?” pangutana niya.

“Alsaha ni oh, nagdako lang nang lawas nimo, wa kay buot,” segun sa magulang. Gitudlo niini ang aysbaks sa tiilan.

Gialsa ni Ulik ang aybaks nga napuno sa mga isda.

“Aha diay ta adto te?” ni Ulik nga daw nalagot.

“Sa centro, mamaligya tag isda,” segun sa iyahang maguwang baye, nagbitbit sab kini og planggana, naghulat og traysikel.

“Te tabangi ko ba,” ni Ulik. Gibutang niini ang gipas-an nga aysbaks. “Kanang, te! Ingna god kang Nanay te nga—”

“Naunsa naman ka ‘Lik! Pauli na lang didto! Pagmodyul!” segun sa iyahang Ate Klarita nga kalit lang nangyam-id. Morag nalagot sa nadungog. Gikampay-kampay gihapon niini ang kamot arun makapangita og sakyanan.

“Di ko ganahan lagi magbasa ug magsuwat. Gusto nako managat!” tubag ni Ulik. Nagkulismaot ang nawung niini samtang nag-atubang sa mga isda nga naglutaw-lutaw sa ilahang aysbaks.

“Hilom dira. Nagkalisud na gani si Tatay sa lawud, ana pa ka,” saway sa iyahang igsuong babaye, gikuha niini ang aysbaks sa mga isda.

Kalit nga nakapangalot og ulo si Ulik.

“Adto sa kog bilyaran,” segun niya sa iyahang maguwang baye. Nibiya siya didtong dapita.

“Ay ambot! Gahia nimog ulo bataa ka oy!” asuy sa iyahang Ate nga nalagot sa manghod. Taud-taod adunay nihunong nga traysikel. Misakay dayon kini.

“Bantay lang ka unya kay Nanay!” singgit niini kang Ulik unya nanakmol.

Gipasulod ug gipagawas ni Ulik sa pikas dalunggan ang gisulti sa iyahang maguwang. Nakahukom si Ulik nga muoadto sa bilyaran, didto dapit sa bidyukihan nilang Angkol niya Victor diin siya maglaagan. Didtoa nakita niya ang iyahang mga igso ug ig-agaw nga sayo pa lang sa buntag nagdula na. Ang uban nanigarilyo ug nagshatshat. Ang uban niya nga mga higala nagsayaw-sayaw na sab sa Tiktok.

“Uy ‘Lik,” tawag sa iyaha sa iyahang igso nga si Romyo. “Muoban ka sa amoa unyang gabie?” pangutana niini. “Aha?” ni Ulik nga nagkahinam. Miduol kini sa kaestorya. “Molawud,” tubag sa kaestorya.

Morag gibayaw sa langit ang kalag ni Ulik sa nadungog apan taud-taod—

“Ambot lang, kay ingon ni Nanay dili ko puyde molawud,” segun ni Ulik nga morag nawad-an og gana. Gusto gyod niya mouban apan nakaila siya sa iyahang Nanay.

“Ngano man daw?” pangutana niadtong Romyo.

“Kay tulo akoang alimpulo.”

Nagtan-awanay ug nagkinataw-anay ang mga ulitawo didtong dapita. Nakuratan ug naluya si Ulik sa iyahang nakita.

“Dili na tinuod oy! Kabuang! Duha man gani amoang alimpulo.”

“Mao gyod brad.”

“Dili lang gyod tingali ka sugtan, kay baby pa ka,” segun sa usa ka lalaki. Ang uban mga takoy didtong dapita gipakita pa ang mga alimpulo kang Ulik arun mutuo siya.

“So unsa man, lods? Uban ka unyang gabie?” pangutana pag-usab sa iyahang igso nga si Romyo.

Wala makatingug si Ulik apan kabalo siya nga gusto sa iyahang mga tiil mosaka ug musakay og bangka ug muadto sa tunga-tunga sa dagat. Gusto niya makita ang mga nagsidlak nga isda kon magabie na!

Mitando siya sa igso. Ug nagtaghoy-taghoy samtang pauli sa ilaha.

Kadtung duol na siya sa ilahang tugkaran, nakita niya iyahang inahan nga nagdala og bunal. Gisugat siya niini. Napanas ang pahiyom ni Ulik. Nailisdan kini og kahadlok. Naghinay-hinay siya og sulod sa ilahang nataran.

“Aha man ka gikan intawung bataa ka?” singhag niini. Tataw kaayo sa nawung ang paglagot.

“Nay, kuan man god,” ni Ulik nga nagpitok-pitok ang mata. Nangitag angay irason sa inahan arun dili mabunalan. Tua iyahang ate Klarita sa ilahang purtahan mitutok kaniya. Nalagot sab.

“Ay ambot. Imohang magulang nagkadipo-dipo pag-uli dinhi, wa man daw ka nitabang sa iyaha?” segunda sa iyahang inahan nga nanighawak. Tama-tama sab kay nagpadulong iyahang Tatay sa ilahang balay, bag-o ra intawun niuli gikan sa pagpanglimpyo sa sakayan. Nihapit kini sa tindahan arun mobali sa pinansir nga si Eddie.

“Unsay nahitabo?” pangutana sa iyahang Tatay, nagdala kini og tunga sa sako nga bugas ug usa ka supot nga mga pagkaon. Gikuha dayon kini ni Klarita unya misulod.

“Ay ambot, ana gyod nang tuloy alimpulo, gahig mga ulo!” ni Linay nga misulod pod sa ilahang panimalay. Miukok sa daplin si Ulik dayon nagdali-dali og sulod sa ilahang balay.

Paghuman nilag panihapon, mipapahuway na sila. Ang iyahang inahan nga miulbo ang kaspa kaganiha mihigda nas ilahang katre. Sa tan-aw ni Ulik morag nawala na ang kalagot niini. Nagpatutoy kini sa iyahang gamayng igsuon. Nanghugas og plato iyahang ate Klarita. Iyahang Tatay tua nipapahuway sa gawas sa ilahang balay. Nagitara-gitara kini ug nagyarok og Tanduay.

“Tay, kanus-a ang sunod ninyo nga istarting?” pangutana ni Ulik. Naghinay-hinay kini og lingkod sa lingkuranan gama sa kawayan, tapad sa iyahang Tatay.

“Ngano god nangutana ka?” segun sa iyahang Tatay Vicente unya gihikap iyahang ulo, dapit sa iyahang alimpulo.

“Wala lang,” pamakak niya.

“Ayaw na panganduy nga managat ‘Lik. Maong gipa-eskuyla mo namo sa imohang Nanay, arun haruhay inyuhang pamuyo puhon,” matud sa iyahang Tatay samtang gipatukar ang gitara niini. Mikanta kini og sonata nga makaluya.

“Makahinumdom man pod tas utang nato ana Tay,” agik-ik sa iyahang ate Klarita. Unya gipahid ang basa nga kamot sa palda niini. Misiplat kini kang Ulik. Gitan-aw sab ni Ulik ang maguwang. Wala na kini masuko niya. Misulod dayon kini sa ilahang lawak.

Mipahiyom iyahang Tatay ug mikanta kini og si Pelimon, si Pelimon, namasol sa kadagatan!

“Tay, kanang nindut sa lawud?” ni Ulik. Naundang og kanta ang iyahang amahan.

“Sa lawud, walay kasiguraduhan kon makauli pa ba ka. Ngitngit didto taga-gabie,” matod sa iyahang Tatay.

“Tay, ngitngit man gyod ang gabie,” asuy ni Ulik nga morag namilosopo.

“Ang mga balod didto, dako pa sa atoang balay,” segunda niini.

“Mas dako man pod ang bangka sa atoang balay, Tay,” ni Ulik nga dili gyod mahutdan og tubag.

“Ay, ambot sa imohang bataa ka, di gyod ka magpapildi,” agik-ik sa iyahang Tatay unya gihurot og inom ang tunga sa baso nga Tanduay.

“Ali na, tuwog na ta ‘Lik,” agda niini sa iyaha. Misulod na kini sa ilahang lawak tapad sa iyahang Nanay.

Mitando si Ulik apan nakatatak na sa alimpatakan ni Ulik ang iyahang angay himuon niadtong gabhiuna. Managat siya. Muoban siya ilang Romyo. Nahikatulog ang iyahang Tatay human og kanta. Iyahang ate Klarita sab naghagok na kay gikapoy sa pamaligyag isda kaganihang buntag. Nagdali og kuha si Ulik og mga sanina sa ilahang karaan nga aparador. Isulod kini niya og selopin. Wala siyay dala nga baro. Husto naman tingali ang duha ka pares sa sanina kay dili man sila magdugay sa lawud ingon ni Romyo. Aduna na siyay magamit sa pipila ka adlaw nga tua siya sa lawud. Naghinay-hinay siya og balik sa ilahang lawak. Nakita niya ang bugsay sa ilahang Tatay nga gitaguan niini sa ilahang gamayng lawak. Nakita sab niya ang mga naylon ug pukot nga tapad sa ilahang urukan. Nakaplagan niya didto ang usa ka basket nga napuno og pasol. Nagkuha siya og pipila ka pasol ug taga aron magamit kini sa lawud. Nibati siya og kalipay. Nahinanok na og tulog ang iyahang mga igsuon. Siya na lang intawun ang nagtukaw sa ilahang panimalay. Dungog kaayo niya ang hampak sa balud sa baybayun.

Alas onse na kadto sa gabie. Mihuros ang bugnaw kaayong hangin. Natuwog na ang kalibutan apan nagtukaw gihapon si Ulik. Nakatawa siya nga pagkahinumdom sa giingon sa iyahang Nanay nga gahi siyag ulo. “Naa diay humok nga ulo?” segun niya sa kaugalingon ug nihimuot. Wala sab siya nihigda o nagpiyong-piyong. Gihulat gyod niya nga adunay manapit niya sa ilahang bintana. Kabalo siya nga si Romyo na kadto.

“Pst! Pst!”

Dali siya nga mibakod pagkadungog sa paswit gikan sa gawas. Paglili niya sa bintana nakita niya ang ig-agaw nga si Romyo.

“Dali lang!” hunghong niya.

Giuna og duhol ni Ulik ang iyahang gamit kay Romyo. Paghuman naghinay-hinay siyag saka sa bintana kon aha siya moagi. Gilili niya iyahang Nanay nga tua natuwog sa pikas lawak. Gipaak niya iyahang ngabil.

“Bahala na,” asuy niya sa kaugalingon.

“Dali na, dugaya pod nimo oy,” sulti sa iyahang kauban.

Nisenyas si Ulik nga dili magsaba. Tingali og makamata iyahang ate Klarita. Nilukso siya agi gikan sa bintana ug balas iyahang gihagbungan.

Dali siya nga mitindog. Gipagpagan iyahang sanina. Nagdagan-dagan sila paingon sa lapyahan. Ang bakat sa iyahang tsinelas nalubong sa balas. Sa layo pa, nakita na niya ang pakura sa baybayun. Mituhop kaniya ang bugnaw kaayong hangin.

“Maayo nakauban ka badi!” matud pa niadtong Odo.

“Dili mo kasab-an sa inahan ana?” pangutana sa usa ka lalaki nga kadto pa lang niya nakita.

“Dili lage brad,” tubag sa iyahang ig-agaw.

Dali nga misakay si Ulik sa pakura. Paadto sa pedikaber na ilahang sakyan.

“Redi na ka badi?” pangutana sa iyahang higala nga si Kokoy. Gitapik niini iyahang abaga.

Mitando si Ulik. Nagpahiyum siya. Wala niya panumbalinga ang baybay nga niadtong taknaa mingaw kaayo. Mitan-aw siya sa layo. Sa ngitngit. Migunit siya sa bangka. Naglutaw na gyod sila! Gihigop niya ang bugnawng hangin. Layo na sila ug nasinati na niya nga giduyan-duyan na sila sa mga balod. Ang uban niyang kauban naglingkod pa sa may katig.

Sa wala madugay kasukahon siya.

“Maanad ra ka kadugayan igso,” segun sa iyaha niadtong Romyo.

Nagtagay sab didto ang uban niyang kaubanan.

“Inom arun di ka mahubog sa biyahe,” matod sa iyahang usa ka kadula nga si Justin. “Kay hubog na daan ha-ha!” segunda niadtong usa nila ka kauban.

Milingi ni Ulik ang uban, nagkanta-kanta ug nagsayaw-sayaw nagpatugtog og budots. Ang uban nanan-aw og video sa selpon. Mga bastos nga palabas.

“Tan-awun nato kon tinuod ba gyod nga abuton og bagyo ang mga tulo og alimpulo. Haha!” komedya niadtong Romyo. Nangatawa ang iyahang mga kauban.

Mikatawa sab si Ulik. Kabalo siya nga panghadlok lang kadto sa iyahang Nanay ug Tatay. Nakahinumdom siya sa iyahang Lolo. Karun makapanagat na siyag daghang isda, naa na siyay pampalit og bayk, mapalitan na sab niya og pagkaon iyahang apuhan. Dili na niini kinahanglan magtahi og pukot. Palitan niyag bag-ong sanina iyahang Ate Klarita arun dili na kini saputon. Ganahan pod baya iyahang ate mangukay. Malibre na niya og Milk Tea si Kesha kon manuroy silag Plasa. Makakaon na pod sila sa iyahang Nanay og manok sa Jollibee. Mapalitan na niya og washing machine iyahang Nanay. Ug dili na niya kinahanglan mag anser og modyul na hastang lisuda.

Layo-layo na sila sa lapyahan. Gilingi ni Ulik ang baybay. Gamay na kaayo kini. Labi na ang mga suga nga nagdalag kahayag sa tibuok purok. Nakita niya ilahang balay. Nagtikagamay ang tibuok baybay sa iyahang panan-aw. Nagapalayo nga nagapalayo na sila. Gilingi niya ang palibot. Gilingi niya ang dagat. Tinuod gyod diay nga ngitngit ang dagat.

Sa wala madugay naminghoy na ang iyahang mga kauban. Nakita niya ang operitor nila sa bangka. Dakuon kini nga lalaki.

“Dugay na ka gapanagat Yang?” pangutana niya.

“Oo, kinahanglan. Gigatas pa akoang anak,” tubag niini sa iyaha.

“Tulog sa, kay unya mamasol na tag daghang isda, nagapakita ang apong sa isda matag kadlawun,” dugang pa niini.

Mitando si Ulik. Nilingi niya iyahang mga kauban, nahinanok na kini.

Mihangad siya sa langit. Apan wala nagpakita ang mga bituon, kalit lang nga milagapak ang kilat. Kauban ang kusog kaayong dalugdog. Mora og adunay mga bato nga nagbungguanay sa langit.

Nakuratan silang tanan nga tua sa bangka. Nakamata silang Romyo ug ang kaubanan niini. Miharos ang kusog nga hangin, ug kalit nga mibundak ang kusog kaayong ulan.

“Uy naunsa god?” segun sa lalaki nga operitor. Kalit niini nga gikabig ang manebela sa bangka.

“Panggunit mo!” singgit niadtong lalaki.

Nanan-aw silang tanan kay Ulik nga tua sa olin sa bangka.

Kalit nga mibundak ang kusog kaayong ulan. Nabasa ang dagat. Ang bangka ug si Ulik.

Gigunitan ni Ulik ang iyahang alimpulo. Maoy unang nabasa sa tibuok niyang kalawasan.

Habeas Corpus

Fiction by | September 11, 2023

(This story won 2nd Prize in the 6th Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya.)

“I said, you stop it, or else I will… pu**ng ina ninyo!”

— Former President Rodrigo Roa Duterte on his War on Drugs

Mao pay pagkaupos sa sigarilyo ni Jerry, midagkot na pod siya sa ikatulo nga istik. Iyang gisigop ang unang aso sa sigarilyo. Hanoy nga mihulma ang aso og serkulo diha sa hangin ug hinayhinayng nabungkag. Nag-aginod ang dagan sa trapiko karong hapona, apan paspas ang dagan sa iyang hunahuna nga mahuman ang iyang transaksiyon.

“Dugaya pod nimo, bay, oy! Hapit baynte minutos na ko dinhing nagpaabot nimo ba!” Nagpanglingi siya sa palibot dayon mitunol sa iyang higala og usa ka gamayng pinutos sa newspaper. “Wa nimo madawat akong teks?” pahiping sukit niya sa higala.

“Yawa nis Mercy, bay. Gilabay akong selpon. Tua, pwerteng buakas akong Oppo. Nimal bayhana!” ni Bryan nga mikuha sa iyang labakarang puti nga gisalib-ay sa iyang liog ug namahid sa iyang singot sa agtang.

“Aysa kog estoryahi anang inyong gugmas hangin, bay. Pagdali diha! Dyes-bulig na!” Nagliraw-liraw ang mga mata ni Jerry sa mga moaging motorista atbang sa Ecoland Terminal.

“Utso-bulig lang sa, bay. Tua kang Mercy ang dos para motak-om ang baba ato.”

“Pastilanan nang estayl nimo, bay. Ayna kog patapla ani, bay, bisan karon lang.”

“Idagan sa nako ni, bay. Unsa man na siya nga mora man og karon pa,” ni Bryan nga mitunol sa utso-mil nga gikausag pilo.

Naglingo-lingo si Jerry samtang gatangag sa iyang sigarilyo. Moaksiyon og piyong ang iyang mga mata kon sakdapan sa aso. Iyang giihap ang kwarta sulod sa CR sa karenderya. Sa iyang paggawas, mikuot siya og usa ka gatos ug gitunol kang Nang Salome, ang tag-iya sa maong kan-anan ug dayon milakaw.

“Doy Jerry, ang imong kambiyo, doy!” singgit sa saysenta anyos nga tiguwang nga milista sa sukli ni Jerry sa iyang gamayng notebook.

“Diha ra na, Nang. Mobalik ra ko ugmas buntag,” nagdali-dali siya og kapyot sa dyip- pasaheroan paingon sa Gmall.

“Sus, bataa. Permi ra gyong magbilin og sukli dinhi,” hunghong sa tiguwang sa iyang kaugalingon nga mitik-op sa iyang notebook.

Pasado alas 5:30 nas kahaponon. Luag ang sulod sa sakyanan ning higayona. Hinayhinay lang ang padagan sa drayber kay namik-ap siyag pasahero. Dihay iyang katapad nga tiguwang nga nanawag sa iyang selpon. Pwerte niyang sukoa sa iyang apo kay wa na pod kuno mopauli sa ilang balay. Dihay duha ka hilom nga manag-uyab nga gatapad, gaduko sa ilang selpon. Mikuha si Jerry sa iyang selpon nga naa sa iyang gamayng bag nga gisalib-ay sa iyang liog.

“Gaw, padulong na ko. Didto lang gihapon,” teks ni Jerry sa iyang higala.

Mingminor ang iyang gisakyang pasaheroan duol sa may trapik layt kanto sa Mercury Drug sa may Bonifacio Street. Dihay daghang pundok sa mga pasahero. Klase-klase. Dihay mga estudyante, gikan sa tarbaho, dunay mga tiguwang ug mga batan-on. Diha gihapon ang butang haranista nga miawit sa iyang sonata luyo sa mga nag-atang og sakyanan. Mitagingting ang mga sinsilyong gihalad sa mga nanglabay nga naminaw sa iyang kantang “Anak” ni Freddie Aguilar.

“Dungagi akong batak, gaw, kay bag-ong dunggo si Randy,” ni Danny nga higala ni Jerry sukad pas hayskol.

“Oh, Gmall, Boulevard, Talisay! Gmall, Boulevard!” singgit sa drayber nga mamik-ap og laing pasahero.

Dihay usa ka pundok sa mga batan-on nga misakay sa dyip. Hugyaw kaayo silang nag- estoryahanay. Lima sila kabook nga misulod sa sakyanan. Tulo ka lalaki ug duha ka babaye.

“Oh, sibogi daw kay pito-pito man na. Para madali ta, palihog!” Miinggansa ang drayber sa kambiyada.

“Palihog daw, plete. Gmall lang,” matod pas dalaga nga diha maglingkod sa atubangan ni Jerry. Pution ang iyang pamanit. Hamis ang iyang nawong nga dunay pagkapulapula ang iyang aping. Espisong pula ang pintal sa iyang mga ngabil. Gidawat sa tiguwang ang iyang plete ug gitunol ngadtos drayber.

“Pila ni?” pangutana sa drayber nga miinat-inat sa papel nga baynte pesos. Iyang gibakos ang kwartang papel sa iyang tudlo.

“Isa lang, koy, Gmall,” hinayng tubag sa dalaga nga igo ra pod nga madunggan sa drayber.

Wala mawala ang tutok ni Jerry sa dalaga nga naas iyang atubangan nga mihapyod-hapyod sa iyang selpon. Misamot ang iyang kaanyag dihang nasugaan sa iyang selpon ang iyang dagway. Bulagaw and iyang buhok nga mihagbong sa iyang abaga. Milihay ang mga mata ni Jerry sa dihang mikalit og tan-aw niya ang dalaga nga midawat sa iyang kambiyong dose pesos.

Diha sulod sa sakyanan, klase-klase ang pasahero. Dihay iyang katapad nga nagbasa og newspaper. Iyang nasiplatan ang bag-ong headline sa SunStar Davao mahitungod sa sunod-sunod nga patay sa kaulohan sa Manila nga nahilambigit sa War on Drugs. Misukol ang mga biktima, hinungdan sa ilang kamatayon.

“Tsk! tsk! Nahunong ang pagpananom og bala sa NAIA, ug didto gibalhin ang mga semilyas lawas sa tawo. Tsk! Tsk!” hinayng yawyaw sa kaugalingon sa tiguwang nga mitik-op sa iyang antiyohos. Iyang gisipitan ang newspaper sa iyang ilok.

“Diri lang, boss!” ni Jerry nga miuna og naog sa dyip tungod sa Gmall dayon tunol sa dyes pesos. Wala niya gihuwat ang iyang dos pesos nga kambiyo ug daling minaog sa sakyanan.

Misunod ra pod dayon og panganaog ang mga pasahero. Ubay-ubay ang mga tawo nga nangadto sa mall. Nawala sa panan-aw ni Jerry ang dalaga. Iyang gianinaw ang palibot. Miduot ang daghang tao. Gisayangan siyas higayon. Wala siya makadiskarteg pangayo og numero sa dalaga. Mideritso siyag adto sa terminal sa van likod sa maong mall. Wala siya misulod sa dakong building ug didto siya agis edipisyo, namidpid paigon sa likod. Gilikayan niya ang mga gwardiya nga mokapkap kaniya.

“Nalangan ko gamay, gaw.”

“Pilay dala nimo diha, gaw? Dungagi akong batak kay miabot si Randy.”

“Kensi-bulig. Ay lang kog patapla, gaw, para tingob akong remitans unya kang Boss Jaguar.”

“Way problema,” pahiping tunol sa sobre ni Danny, ang higalang nagtrabaho sa usa ka dakong call center sa dakbayan sa Davao. Gitunol sab ni Jerry ang laing pinilo sa papel.

Nanggawas ang duha sa ihianan sa mga lalaki nga mora bag walay nahitabo. Didto sila mipadayon og estorya sa parkinganan sa mga van nga mobiyahe paingon sa Mati City, Sigaboy, ug Montevista. Wala madugay, miabot ang babayeng namay-ongan ni Jerry didtos dyip-pasaheroan. Duna siyay gibitbit nga mga pinalit. Paingon kini sa ilang nahimutangan. Sa dihang duol na kanila ang maong babaye, mipahiyom kini. Moaksyon na pod untag balos si Jerry sa iyang tam-is nga pahiyom. Nahilaw siya. Didto diay kini mipahiyom kang Danny.

“Yawa ka, Danny Boy. Imo na sab kong gilubot!” yubit ni Jerry sa iyang kaugalingon nga nagtan-aw sa iyang higalang adarit kaayog nawong.

Mitabok ang babaye paingon nila nga nagdagan-dagan human milabay ang Maligaya Taxi sa iyang atubangan.

“Hello, kuya, sorry kaayo nadugay gyod ko. Natintal gyod kos mga sales sa sulod. Tara na!” sa babayeng wa miundang sa iyang pahiyom nga mora bag model sa Closeup.

“Ay, nayati nang animal, kuya-ate pay tawagan sa mga kanahan,” hunghong ni Jerry sa kaugalingon nga nagpangagot sa iyang ngipon. Nagduko-duko siya ug nangyugpos. Iyang gi-ekis ang iyang mga bukton nga mora ba siyag gibati og katugnaw. Ang iyang abaga mohalok nas iyang aping. Naglingi-lingi siya sa iyang palibot. Nagpatay-mali.

“Oy, gaw Jerry! Si Krista diay, akong bayaw,” ni Danny nga mipaila-ila sa dalaga ngadtong Jerry. “Kris, si Jerry diay, akong gwapong barkada sa hayskol,” sumpay ni Danny dayon kilo sa iyang mata ngadto sa iyang higala.

“Ehem! Bentaha na lang, gaw! Taga Davao pod ka, mam?” abtik nga tubag ni Jerry dala sukit-sukit sa dalaga. Miluag ang iyang paminaw.

“You look familiar lagi sa akoa, ay! Morag nagkita na lagi ta,” tubag sa dalaga nga mitutok sa nawong ni Jerry. Wala gihapon mihunong ang iyang pahiyom. Apan ning higayona, didto na misihag ang iyang ngipon sa ulitawo.

“Nagkasakay baya ta gaina, mam,” daling tubag ni Jerry nga mipilopilo sa tumoy sa iyang kalo. Iyang gibuhian ang kamot sa dalaga dayon pislit-pislit sa iyang taluytoyng ilong.

“Lagi! Ikaw gyod to! Ha-ha-ha! Kagamay ra gyod diay sa kalibotan, awp,” ni Krista nga nakapanap-ong sa iyang baba sa wa damhang katawa sa kaugalingon.

Mibahakhak si Danny. Nahimuot pod siya nga naminaw sa duha. Wa pod kasabot si Jerry sa iyang gibati niadtong tungora nga mora bag dunay mikuryente sa iyang mga gusok nga maoy hinungdan sa iyang walay hunong nga pahiyom ngadtos dalaga.

“Aw, nia ra man tas gamayng suok sa kalibotan, mam. Gamay ra gyod kaayo paras duha ka linalang. Way rason nga di sila magkitaay,” labtik nga mga pulong ni Jerry nga wa niya mahibal-i kon diin kini gikan.

“Pesti ba ning kadaghan bag hakut diring dapitang yati!” ni Danny nga gibundak-bundak ang iyang mga tiil ug nagtuyok-tuyok sa iyang gitindogan. “Mangaon sa ta ninyo, bay! Gaina ra ko gigutom,” agda niya sa duha nga naingog dugay na kaayong managkaila.

Layas si Jerry. Wa na siya mopauli sa ilaha sa probinsiya sa Davao Oriental sukad nakahiagom siyag kulata sa iyang amahang kanhing PC kun Philippine Constabulary. Ang iya rang inahan maoy iyang perming dagananan nga usa ka retiradong magtutudlo sa Nasser National High School. Pito na siya ka tuig sa Davao City, apan wa gyod siya magpahibalo kon diin siya magpuyo.

Sukad nga nakahiagom og stroke ang iyang amahan, nagpait na pod ang ilang pamilya. Dunay gamayng pensiyon nga madawat sa magtiayon, igo ra pod nga imentinans sa klase-klaseng tambal. Ang iyang inahan dunay diabetes ug highblood. Permi ra nga magpacheck-up sa doktor. Dihay kausa nga mipadala si Jerry og singkuwenta-mil aron mapagawas lang ang inahan sa pribadong ospital. Ang kwartang iyang gibayad gikan sa iyang amo nga diha miburot ang tiyan sa pagpadagan og druga. Mao lagi, taas-taas ang iyang apasonon nga bayronon, dala sa dakong utang-kabubut-on na pod ang iyang pagserbisyo kang Jaguar.

Wala mitalikod si Jerry sa iyang responsibilidad sa iyang pamilya hilabi na sa iyang mga manghod. Gani, nakahuman gyod sa kursong nursing si Jimboy ug si Lilibeth sa kursong education. Tulo silang magsuon. Apan sukad nga nakatapos sila sa ilang pagtungha, wa na gyod siya makadawat sa ilang mensahe, bisan pangumusta. Nag-iyahay na sila sa ilang kinabuhi ug nangaminyo. Tungod sa iyang pagpamagdoy sa dakbayan, daghan siyag nakaila. Nahimo siyang runner sa mga dagkong tao sa tanad sa druga.

“Salamat, Kris. Imo gyod kong gihatagan og higayon. Kadaghan na kong misuway sa gugma apan wa gyod milahutay.”

Misandig si Jerry sa bukton ni Krista atubangan sa pagsalop sa adlaw sa Samal Island.

“Karon nga nia naka, usbon ko na ang akong kinabuhi nga kauban ka.”

“Unsa ba na siyang kadrama ba ining amaw, ay!” ni Krista nga gitukmod ang nawong sa ulitawo palayo kaniya nga mora bag gihilasan sa mga gipanglitok ni Jerry. “Unsa ba gud nang imong usbon sa imong kinabuhi, Jerry? Ay lang gyod kog binuangi, kay na…” dugang niya samtang duna siyay gitext sa iyang selpon.

“Aw, oo, oy! Ako pa man gani ang binuangan.”

“Aw, kana ba. Tagsa ra baya gyod ko mosalig og tao, Jerry. Ikaw pa.”

“Yuna, kinsa man nang imong perming katext diha? Gaina ra ko nakabantay nimo,” sukit ni Jerry nga misuway og kuha sa selpon sa dalaga.

“Ka-oa ba ana niya, oy. Selos lang ang peg. Si Mama ni, oy—nangumusta,” ni Krista nga mipakita sa iyang selpon ug sa mensahe sa iyang inahan.

Nakita ni Jerry ang bag-ong mensahe sa inahan ni Krista. Nangutana kini kon asa siya karon naglaroy-laroy. Nalipay si Jerry sa iyang nabasa nga gikauban siya sa dalaga ug nia sila sa Sea Side sa Talisay nagsuroy-suroy.

“Abi kog kinsa nang imong sigeng kontak dinha. Makulbaan man sab ta. He-he!” ni Jerry nga mitan-aw sa pagsalop sa adlaw sa kapunawpunawan.

Diha sa ilang tungod, milabay ang daghang mamaligyaay. Dihay mga hamtong ug mga batan-ong namaligya. Dihay mga nagbikebike nga mga batan-on ug mga nagbaktas nga mga estudyante. Nindot ang kagabhion sa Sea Side kay walay dag-om. Ang kisaw sa mga balod nga mihapak sa seawall maoy nag-inusarang tono sa kilomkilom. Dihay magtiayon nga malipayon kauban ang ilang usa ka anak nga nagkaon og ice cream nga naa gisulod sa apa. Dihay duha ka batang lalaki ug babae nga nagduwa og takyan nga nagsigeg tingsi ang mga dagway.

“Seben… eyt… naaaayn…” sa batang babaye nga mihunat sa iyang bukton aron tudason ang ika-napulong ihap. “Ten!” Wala siya makaigo ug gikataw-an siya sa iyang kaduwa.

“Oy! Butalo! Butalo! Ha-ha!” sungog sa batang lalaki ug nagkinataw-anay silang duha.

“Unsa man na siya… Palabaraw! Palabaraw! Di na man ko ron ba!” sa batang babaye nga naninghawak atubangan sa iyang kaduwa.

“Oh! Mani… mani… mani… Init pa! Mani, mam ug ser?” hagad sa lalaking may edad na nga nagbitbit sa iyang baligyang mani.

“Tagpila man ni imong mani, boss?” Mihikap si Jerry sa nangumbitayng mani nga gigunitan sa lalaki nga naa sa mga singkuwenta anyos.

“Aw, tag-singko lang ni, doy. Pila imoha?” sa tindero.

“Ikaw, Kris? Gusto ka aning mani?” sugyot ni Jerry.

“Naa kay coated diha, nong?” tubag sa dalaga nga miatubang sa namaligya.

“Ay, wa man koy inasukaran, mam. He-he. Pero aysa mam, ha. Kadiyot lang kay tawgon ko ang akong kauban nga namaligya niana,” sa tiguwang nga mipahiyom sa iyang mga kustomer.

“Oh! Maaaniiii… lamiii… tam-is! Maniii… lamiii… tam-is!” singgit sa usa ka namaligya nga mipaingon sa nahimotangan nilang Jerry og Krista.

“Dong Marlon, ali kay dunay mopalit,” sa unang lalaking tindero nga nangamay sa iyang kamot.

“Oh! Diri… diri… diri. Tag-dyis… tag-dyis… lang. Mapobre ug adunahan, gugmang tam-is ang kinahanglan!” birada ni Marlon sa iyang mga kustomer nga miabli sa iyang gamayng balde nga naa gisalib-ay sa iyang abaga. Mitakos si Marlon og bali tulo ka kandos sa coated nga mani og gisulod sa sudlanang brown nga papel. “Buanga ato diria gabii, nong Melyo, no? Wa gyod ko kahiring nga nagbinuang og pamaligya si Rik-Rik ba! Tsk! Pastilan tawhana. Wa man maghunahuna rong mga panahona nga nahurot nag pamusil ang mga tsoy.”

“Mao lagi, dong. Mao nga kita, di gyod ta mag apil-apil anang mga butanga kay mao bayay ipakaon nato sa atong pamilya. Hinayhinay basta kanunay lang god ta. Buhi man gani ang mga langgam nga walay miatiman kanila,” tubag ni nong Melyo nga gipasiwilan niya og sambingay.

“Nia ra imong mani, mam oh,” hinayng sagbat ni Marlon.

“Naunsa man diay kuno tong tawhana, nong?” kuryosong pangutana ni Krista samtang midawat sa gitunol ni Marlon.

“Ay, mam, namaligya lagi anang ginadili nga druga ba. Unya kay surbi-surbi na man diay kuno na—ay, kanang surbilans, mam, ba,” abtik nga tubag ni Marlon.

“Mao to nga, mikalit ra man og paka-paka dinhang dapita. Diha, oh!” padayon ni nong Melyo nga namahid sa iyang good morning towel sa iyang agtang. “Wa gyod kapanagang, mam, oy. Sarasay diha, oh! Kwits gyod tawhana,” lingo-lingo nga sumpay niya ug nanaguto.

“Diha, mam, oh. Kanang unahan dihang dapita sa may solar nga suga, mam,” sumpay ni Marlon nga mitudlo sa maong dapit nga nahitaboan sa insidente diin dunay nagsiga nga duha ka kandila. “Lain na rong panahona mam, oy. Ang delikadog maalaan ta kun maigo tas saag nga bala. Bugha gyod ang bagol-bagol!” dugang niya nga misiga ang mata.

Si Jerry nga naas kilid ni Krista, naghilomhilom samtang naminaw sa estorya. Milingi siya sa dapit diin gitudlo ni Marlon. Mikuot siya sa iyang selpon ug duna siyay giteksan nga higala.

“Mao gyod kuya. Kalooy pod, no?” ni Krista nga mitubay sa estorya ug mibati siya og kalooy.

“Wa gyod tay mahimo, mam. Mao nay giingon nga, isang bala ka lang—tikangkang!” tubag ni Marlon.

“Nakuha na ba ang lawas didtos morge, dong?”

“Unsay pagkakuha, nga wa may panglukat! Tua pas Liling nagsolisit sa munisipyo ganina nasugatan nako nagkugos sa iyang usa ka tuig nga bata.”

Gihapuhap ni Krista ang iyang bukton. Nanglibawot ang iyang balhibo pagkadungog sa sitwasyon. Nibati siya og kalooy sa usa ka inahan.

“Tara na, Kris? Bayad namo preng, oh,” ni Jerry nga mitunol sa usa ka gatos pesos ngadto kang Marlon. “Palug-palug lang mo ana, preng. Way laing sensilyo,” dugang niya.

“Duna kay singkwenta diha, Nong Melyo? Kay ako ning ihatag nimo ang usa ka gatos,” ni Marlon sa iyang kauban nga mikuot og singkwenta pesos sa iyang bulsa.

“Unya, ser ug mam, salamat kaayo ining inyong pinaskohan, ha? Amping mo, mam-ser,” ni Nong Melyo nga mitalikod kauban si Marlon ug mipadayon sa ilang pagpamaligya.

Mingring ang selpon ni Jerry sa iyang bulsa. Iya kining gikuot ug gitubag ang tawag.

Midistansiya siya gamay gikan kang Krista aron dili kaayo madunggan ang ilang giistoryahan.

“Ah, sige boss! Paingon na ko, boss,” tubag ni Jerry sa iyang katawag. “Ok, ok, boss,” dugang niya dayon sulod ang iyang selpon balik sa iyang bulsa.

“Jer, puyde ba nato ni estoryahan kadiyot una ta manguli?” hangyo ni Krista sa unang higayon. Milingkod sila og balik.

“Last na lang gyod ni, Kris. Pagkahuman aning akong buhian nga aytem, mangkagiw ta dinhing dakbayana,” ni Jerry nga misaad ngadtong Krista. Hugot niyang gigunitan ang mga kamot sa dalaga bugti sa iyang mga pulong.

Mibati og kabalaka si Krista sa iyang kaugalingon. Wa masayod si Jerry sa iyang tinuod nga kahimtang. Di pa sakto ang panahon; wa pa siya makaandam. Sa ilang panag-uyab, daghang higayon nga sila nagkuyog sa usa ka bungbong.

“Congratulations, Mam Krista Jane Malinao. It’s a girl,” sulti sa doktor human sa iyang gibasang ultrasound test.

Dihay bugnawng hangin nga mihapyod sa tangkugo ni Krista. Galibog ang iyang hunahuna kon malipay, mohilak o masuko ba kaha. Apan nagmalig-on ang iyang kaugalingon atubangan sa doktor nga malipayong nakig-estorya kaniya. Wala siya magpakitag kaguol kun kalipay sa iyang dagway, apan klaro niyang madunggan ang dagutob sa iyang dughan.

“Malipay gyod ang imong bana ani, mam. Kay ang imong gidala, wala mag-inusara. Gisabak ang usa ka babaye sa usa ka lalaki. Nia man o, tan-awa,” mapahiyomong dugang estorya sa doktor nga mi-explain sa iyang gihawirang resulta.

Wala kasabot si Krista sa iyang gibati. Kalit nga nangatagak ang gagmayng lugas sa iyang luha. Gitabonan niya ang iyang baba samtang mitutok siya sa black and white result nga gihawiran sa doktor.

“Duna ba moy kaliwat, mam, nga dunay mga anak nga kaluha?” sukit sa doktor nga miatubang kaniya. “Mam, ok ra ka—?”

“Dok?” tubag niya nga nakurat. Wa pa siya katuo sa resulta. “Ah, dok, yes dok. Ako mismo. Duna koy kambal nga babaye,” mipahiyom siya gamay.

“Wow, it’s a gene. Again, congratulations!” komplemento sa doktor.

“Yes, dok. Pero wala siya mabuhi pagpanganak ni Mama. Ako ang miuna og gawas. Misunod ang akong kambal, apan wala na siyay kinabuhi,” saysay ni Krista.

“Mao ba. Kalooy sab. Sayang nga wala siya mabuhi. Daghang gusto magkaanak og sama niini, mam. Kalaming sud-ungon nga duna kay anak nga pareho og dagway. Magdungan sila og dako, dungan og dula sa ilang kabatan-onan,” tambag sa doktor nga mihulagway kaniya sa yano og malipayong kinabuhi sa mga anghel.

Hilom nga mitulo ang mga luha ni Krista samtang nag-atubang kang Jerry. Hugot niya kining gigakos ug dugay niya nga gibuhian. Gihapuhap ni Jerry ang iyang likod. Milurang ang iyang pagbakho ug namahid siya sa iyang luha.

Gipulihan sa madag-omong panganod ang tin-aw nga langit. Ang mga sidlak sa kabituonan napalong. Pipila ka mga gutlo mobunok na gyod ang uwan.

Usa ka dakong karaang balay ang nahimotangan ni Jaguar. Daghan ang iyang mga silingan kay digkit-digkit man ang kabalayan. Apiki ang maong erya. Gagmay ang dalan nga igo rang maagian og usa ka motorsiklo. Mihaguros ang hangin gikan sa habagatan dala ang pundok sa uwan. Sa unahan, tataw nga nagdinaganay ang mga namaligya og balot, kwek-kwek ug mga diyambolero nga namasilong.

Dili kaayo hayag ang sulod sa balay ni Jaguar. Gituyo niya kini. Dihay gamayng pinayongan nga bombelya nga iyang gipasiga nga igo-igo rang midan-ag sulod sa lawak. Diha ang mga kabaro ni Jerry sa dula sa dinaganay sa druga. Si Banot, ang drayber sa van nga nagabiyahe gikan Davao paingon Cagayan. Iyang kauban si Tansyong nga maoy iyang kundoktor kun karelyebo sa pagmaneho. Si Richard, ang dispatser, nga maoy perming una sa remitans. Permi siyang maglingo- lingo kon moestorya ug mohiwi-hiwi ang iyang baba. Si Bonny Boy, ang iladong mamulkitay og ligid sa kanto. Gitawag pod siya og “silencer” kay hilomon kaayo. Way makasakop sa iyang mga transaksiyon nga midagan nag kensi ka tuig.

Dihay nanuktok ug mikaging ang tanang naas sulod sa balay. Nagtinutokay silang Banot ug Tansyong nga mora bag moinggansa nas ilang permira kay mosutoy nag dagan. Mitindog si Jaguar dayon sinyas kang Bonny Boy aron lili-on ang gamayng abris bentana. Walay tao. Ngitngit ang palibot. Kusog gihapon ang hangin sa gawas.

“Iring ra to, gaw,” sulti-dala-hunghong ni Tansyong nga mikuha og plastik nga lingkoranan simpig sa pultahan sa kusina.

“Saba diha! Naa ba diay iring manuktok?” ni Richard nga miaksiyon og agik-ik.

“Mga sanga ra to, part! Kusog baya ang hangin,” duda ni Banot nga mihapak sa tangkugo ni Tansyong. “Ay pagtinagaw ba! Ay pagtinagaw!” dugang niyang biay-biay sa higala.

“Mao na, kay solo-solohon rang bangka. Papuli pod lagi mog bugsay,” sul-ot nga kantiyaw ni Jerry nga lahi nga bangka ang gipasabot.

“Kayat nimo! Naas Richard, oh. Pamahin lagi, Chard! Ha-ha!” ni Bonny Boy nga mitabon sa iyang baba nga naglingkod dapit sa may bungbong.

Padayon ang tiltil ug repak ni Jaguar sa namitoong butang. Wala siya mitubay sa mga yaga-yaga sa iyang mandaganay.

Sa ikaduhang higayon, diha na poy natuktok sa pultahan. Nahilom. Way migimok. Mikunot ang agtang ni Jaguar. Naminaw sila sa palibot. Kalit nga nakautot si Tansyong resulta sa puting hangin nga iyang gisigop sa sesyon ganinang pag-abot nila.

“Yawa! Yawa gyod ka, Syong! Kalibang ra god didtong animala ka!” hinayng pugongpugong og estorya ni Banot nga midukol na pod sa ulo ni Tansyong.

“Paghilom mong, yawa mo!” ni Jaguar nga miaksiyon na og kabalaka ug mitindog. Iyang gikuha ang iyang kalibre .45 nga sinaw kaayo. Iyang gianinaw ang palibot. Mao poy gihimo nilang Richard ug Banot. Usa-usa silang milili sa gawas apan wala gyoy tawo.

Sa pagkakita ni Jerry sa pistola nga gihawiran ni Jaguar, misaka ang iyang dugo sa ulo. Nanindog ang gagmayng buhok sa iyang tingkoy. Misugod og dagutob ang iyang dughan.

“Gaw! Gaw! Bryan ni, gaw!” Sunod-sunod nga pagpanuktok ning higayona.

“Pesti! Ikaw ra man diay na, Bry. Yawa!” ni Banot nga unang mitubag kang Bryan ug giablihan niya ang pultahan.

“Kinsa ning aktora, gaw?” ni Bonny Boy nga mipaduol kang Richard dayon mihunghong.

“Limpiyo na, gaw. Wala pa man diay mo nagkasabay ani niya, no? Iskor nato na, gaw,” ni Richard nga mitando-tando kang Bryan.

“Galasgawa nimo, bay, oy! Gipangkulbaan na baya mi diri. Dali sulod,” ni Jerry nga mipapitik sa iyang puting labakara ngadtos tiyan ni Bryan.

“Sinawa bas imong himan diha, boss,” ni Bryan nga misiplat sa pistola ni Jaguar. Namahid siya sa iyang buhok ug nawong nga pwerteng basaa. Humod ang iyang senina ug dunay daghang lapok nga dala ang iyang tsinelas.

“Ay, giingnan ka! Kon wa ka nagpaila dayon, kariling gyod!” ni Jaguar nga miisbog sa iyang gilingkoran. Diha gihapon niya gibutang ang iyang pistola ibabaw sa lamesa.

“Bay, Jer, nia ra ang akong kuwang, bay. Pirme ra gyod kong apas nimo. Kwits na, ha? Pasayloa ko, bay…” ni Bryan nga mitunol sa hagtik kaayong napulo ka libo. Gitingob niya ang iyang tanang kuwang kang Jerry. Iyang gitutokan ang higala nga mora bag duna siyay isulti.

Mingkurog ang selpon ni Jerry sa iyang bulsa. Dunay nanawag kaniya. Gidali-dali niya og tubag ang tawag. Midistansiya siya sa iyang mga higala simpig sa pultahan sa kusina. Mibunok og kusog ang ulan.

“Hello, nanawag man ka? Nakaabot na ka?” ni Jerry nga miaksiyon og kusog ang tingog kay kusog kaayo ang hatak sa mga lusok sa ulan sa sin.

“Hello, Jer! Hello! Hawa diha karon dayon!” deritsong tubag ni Krista nga dili kaayo madungog ni Jerry sa pikas linya. “Hawa diha, Pagdali! Magkita tas kanto!” sumpay niya nga puno sa kabalaka.

“Hello, unsa?! Naunsa ka?!” ni Jerry nga namahid sa salibo nga mipisik sa iyang nawong.

Mikusog ang unos kuyog sa makabungol nga dalugdog ug kilat nga maoy migisi sa itom nga kalangitan. Mikipat-kipat ang suga sinyales nga mo-brownout ang kuryente.

“Jer, pasayloa ko… Pasayloa ko…” hinayng danguyngoy ni Krista sa pikas linya.

“Nganong mihilak man ka, Kris? Naunsa ka? Unsay nahitabo?!” pintok nga tubag ni Jerry samtang milili siya sa iyang mga higala.

“Boss, traynta-bulig akoa,” ni Bryan nga miitsa sa usa ka bandol nga traynta-mil sa lamesa. Hapit kini mahulog ug daling gisalo ni Jaguar ang kwarta. Iya kining gipaypay-paypay ug gipapitik ang lastikong gihikot.

“Larga!” tubag ni Jaguar dayon mipahiyom.

Luyo sa kusog nga bunok sa ulan, madunggan ni Bonny Boy ang mga tunob sa daghang sapatos nga mianam-anam og duol kanila gikan sa gawas. Gikuhit niya si Richard, apan wala kini mikubit sa iyang hunahuna. Giduol niya si Tansyong ug nakabantay kini sa buot ipasabot ni Bonny Boy. Gikuhit pod ni Tansyong si Banot nga naa ras iyang kiliran. Iya kining gikiloan dayon siplat sa iyang mata.

Abtik nga nakapalong si Jerry sa iyang selpon dayon sulod sa iyang bulsa. Milili siya sa gawas ug diha-diha mipaka ang pultahan sa sala human kini gisipaan sa naka-full gear nga enforcer. Abtik nga midagan si Tansyong ug Banot layat sa bentanang way rehas. Deritso silang dagan nga way lingi-lingi sum-ok luyo sa ngitngit nga kasagingan. Nagkisikisi si Jaguar og kuha sa iyang kalibre .45. Apan wala siya makatutok niini ug giunhan dayon siya og pabuto sa nagsunod nga pulis. Dali rang nahay-ad ang iyang lawas nga gibala sa usa ka balinis nga miigo sa iyang dughan. Nahagba siya sa iyang gilingkoran. Si Richard nga diha duol sa pultahan, naglagat ang iyang mga mata. Wa siya kalihok. Dali siyang gibunlot ug gisinghagan, gipatalikod, dayon gisipaan ang duha ka tiil. Gi-ikis ang duha niya ka kamot sa likod ug giposasan. Si Bryan nga nanap-ong sa iyang dunggan diha magkulob sa iyang kaugalingon ilawom sa lamesa. Wala siya maunsa. Gilabyan ra siya sa mga armado nga midagan paingon sa kusina.

Misunod ang daghang buto-buto ug gipanglutos ang mga nanagan. Si Bonny Boy nga unang nakaikyas tulin kaayo ang dagan paingon sa kanto sa iyahang vulcanizing shop. Apan sa wa pa siya makasulod sa iyang balay, mipaka ang kusog nga buto ug misarasay siya sa may koral.

“Ma! Si Papa!” singgit sa dyes anyos nga anak ni Bonny Boy nga naghulat sa gawas. Migawas ang iyang inahan ug mikaging nga nagbarog atubangan sa iyang bana. Mingbuylo ang tagak sa ulan ug way luha nga mitubod sa iyang mga mata.

Mitipas si Jerry sa laing agianan. Padayon siyang gigukod. Nakita ni Jerry ang tibuok panghitabo, diin giisa ni Bonny Boy ang iyang mga kamot kay nakorner siya. Mikusog og samot ang iyang pagdagan samtang nangita og kalutsan. Sa ipit nga eskina dali siyang nakakurbada ug namidpid sa kabalayan.

Ang mga tawo nagsiniyagitay ug nanggawas na hinuon sa ilang panimalay. Nakita nila ang ginukdanay. Ang mga dyambolero sa dalan nga iyang mga kaila nagkaguliyang. Madunggan ni Jerry ang iyang ngalan nga maoy gisinggit sa mga tao. Diha-diha, milanog ang duha ka laing buto.

“Hunong!” singgit sa lalaki gikan sa iyang likod nga miti-on sa iyang pistola.

Lutay ug way umoy ang iyang mga tuhod. Moaksyon pa unta siya og dagan apan bug-at ang iyang mga tiil. Naingon siyag kandilang giugbok nga nauposan sa pabilo sa may kanto nga iyang nahimotangan. Pamilyar kaniya ang maong tingog nga gikan sa iyang likod.

“Iisa ang imong duha ka kamot!” sunod nga singhag sa usa ka lalaki. “Ayawg pakita og daotang lihok. Duna kay katungod sa paghilom hangtod nga ikaw mapamatud-an nga sad-an,” dugang niini.

Mingkurog na sab ang selpon sa iyang bulsa. Dihay taxi nga hinayng milabay sa iyang tungod. Way laing misantop sa iyang hunahuna. Nahadlok siya. Iyang gihinay-hinay og isa ang iyang duha ka kamot ug gitapion sa iyang ulo. Misugod og alirong ang mga tawo sa palibot. Mihangad siya sa ngitngit nga langit ug gipaundayonan ang matag lugas sa uwan nga nangapusgay sa iyang duha ka kalimutaw.

 

Nagpahiping Maghahalad

Fiction by | August 14, 2023

(This story won 3rd Prize in the 6th Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya.)

Ganina ra siyang nangukay, morag kapin na usa ka oras. Naglibog siya asa gyod ang iyang kuhaon sa kadaghan sa maanindot nga desinyo sa mga kard nga nadispley. Gusto gyod niya makaseguro nga kanang nindot ug haom og desinyo nga kard ang iyang mapili ug ikahatag.

Sa kataposan, nakakita ra gyod siya og kard nga iyang naangayan ug sa iyang pagtuo maoy labing haom ihatag. Duna kini dibuho nga usa ka dako nga pulang kasingkasing nga gipalibotan sa daghan ug lain-laing bulok nga mga bulak. Misanag ang iyang dagway sa tam-is nga pahiyom samtang gisud-ong ang maong kard nga maoy iyang napilian aron ihatag sa iyang hinalaran.

Sa tinuod lang, dugay-dugay ug kadaghan na siya naghunahuna nga buhaton kini. Apan sa matag higayon nga makahunahuna siya sa pagbuhat niini kaniadto, kanunay siyang dag-on sa pagduhaduha, pagpanagana, ug kataha. Busa, kutob ra gyod siya kaniadto sa paghunahuna—sama nga kutob ra sab siya sa paglantaw-lantaw kang Barbara.

Maestra si Barbara, si Mam Barbara o Barbie sa kauban niining mga magtutudlo. Adlaw-adlaw makita kini niya kada mosulod ug mogawas sa eskuylahan kay sekyu man siya didto.

Maanyag si Mam Barbara. Kasarangan lang ang katas-on. Hamis ang tabonon nga kutis. Nindot ang pahiyom, ilabi na kay dunay kandiis sa masigkaaping. Daw nagpangidlap ang maagnihon nga medyo insekon nga mga mata. Tambokon (“chubby,” matod pa) apan nindot ang porma sa lawas. Pero mora lang og may pagkaestriktahon usahay, labi na tingali kanang sapoton siya sa mga estudyante nga labihang magpabadlong o tungod ba hinuon sa kadaghan sa report ug unsa pa diha nga kinahanglang agpason sa pagbuhat ug pagpasa. Nakadugang sa pagkamatahaan ang pagka-inglesera niini, pina-eslang pa ra ba gyod molitok.

Ambot og kapila na ka higayon nga buot niyang moduol ug makig-estorya bisan kadiyot lang kang Mam Barbara. Apan sa tanan sa maong mga higayon kanunay siyang dag-on sa iyang kataha sa maanyag nga maestra. Kanang moaksiyon na siya og tikang padulong sa maanyag nga maestra, ingon sa mokupos siya ug maluya ang iyang mga tuhod, mao nga daw mahiugsok lang siya sa iyang gitindogan samtang mouga ang iyang tutonlan ug ingon sa mokulo ang iyang dila.

Usahay, kanang makahigayon siya, iyang sundan sakay sa iyang motorsiklo ang maestra sa pagpauli niini gikan sa eskuylahan. Sakay sa traysikol, didto kini sagad moagi sa may merkado. Apan naay mga higayon nga dili kini molahos dayon sa balay niini kon dili mohapit pa sa merkado aron mamalit og isda, karne o kaha mga utanon nga tingali maoy isud-an sa panihapon. Sa ingon niining mga higayon, nabatasan ni Mam Barbara nga mobaklay na lang gikan sa merkado pauli sa balay niini nga may igo-igo pod nga kalay-on. Namatikdan niya nga dunay mga bahin sa agianan ni Mam Barbara nga medyo awaaw kay naay mga bakanteng lote nga kasagbotan ra ug walay kabalayan. Medyo ngiob pod kining mga dapita kay daot ang mga suga sa poste daplin sa karsada. Dili pod kaayo daghan ang mga nagaagi sa maong mga dapit.

Sa kadugayan niya nga sigeng pupaniid ug pagpanuop sa maanyag nga maestra, misamot paglipang ang iyang pagbati alang niini. Apan bisan giunsa niya og paningkamot, wala gayod niya mabuntog ang iyang kataha ug kamanggiulawon. Sa ngadto-ngadto, nisulay siya pag-inom og alak aron makabaton og kaisog. Apan igo ra siyang mahubog hangtod mawad-an og panimuot, ug inigbalik sa iyang panimuot halos dili na siya kahinumdom unsay iyang gibuhat panahon sa iyang kahubog. Taliwala niining tanan, nagpabilin nga gitapin-an ang nag-uros-uros niya nga pagbati alang kang Mam Barbara, pagbati nga sama sa usa ka toro nga nagpanglugnot sa higot niini.

Usa niana ka buntag, nakamata siya uban sa tumang kakapoy nga daw hilabihan ang kahago nga natagamtaman nianang milabayng gabii, bunga tingali sa kadaghan sa iyang nainom nga alak. Sa gingi-gingi sa iyang panumduman, dinhay nasangit nga mga salin sa usa ka mangil-ad nga damgo nga naglibog siya kon damgo lang ba o tinuod gyod nga panghitabo; wala niya kini panumbalinga ug gipugos ang kaugalingon nga kalimtan kini.

Pag-abot niya sa eskuylahan, maoy misugat kaniya ang mikatap ang balita nga dunay babaye nga nakit-ang patay sa usa ka bakanteng lote unahan sa merkado. Sumala sa mga estorya, miingon kuno ang nag-imbestigar nga kapolisan nga lagmit kuno nga gilugos usab kini. Sa maong adlaw, wala motunga sa eskuylahan si Mam Barbara.

Daw gikumot ang iyang kasingkasing dihang nasayran nga ang babayeng napalgan nga patay ug giingon nga gilugos didto sa bakanteng lote walay lain kon dilì ang maanyag ug gikaibgan niya nga si Mam Barbara. Nagbangotan ang mga magtutudlo, empleyado ug estudyante sa eskuylahan. Apan walay makalabaw kabug- at sa kasub-anan, kahinugon ug pagmahay nga iyang gibati. Bisan pa man, wala siya makaako pagduaw sa haya sa maestra ug dihang nikuyog siya sa paglubong niini, nagpabilin siya sa layo kay wala siyay igong kaisog nga mosud-ong niini nga wala nay kinabuhi.

Milabay ang mga adlaw ug walay klarong nadawdaw ang imbestigasyon sa kapolisan. Nagpabilin nga misteryo kinsa ang nagbuhat sa mangilngig nga krimen batok kang Mam Barbara. Walay bisan usa ka testigo nga nakasaksi sa panghitabo. Wala poy mga kamera sa CCTV sa dapit nga nahitaboan sa krimen o bisan kanait niini. Ngadto-ngadto, ingon sa inanay na lang nga nakalimtan ang panghitabo sa mga tawo, kinsa nag-iyahay pagpadayugdog sa tagsatagsang kinabuhi ug pakigharong sa tagsatagsang mga suliran.

Apan alang kaniya nagpabilin nga lab-as kanunay sa panumdoman ang mangilngig nga nahiagoman ni Mam Barbara. Padayon niyang gihambin ang kahinugon ug pagmahay sa kaalaotan nga gidangatan niini. Bisan pa kon lumsan niya ang kaugalingon sa alak, dili gyod malaksi sa iyang alimpatakan ug kasingkasing ang makataha apan maagnihong kaanyag ni Mam Barbara ug ang bangis ug linuog nga binuhatang mikutlo sa kinabuhi niini. Matag higayon nga iyang mahanduraw ang nahitabo, ingon sa magpangurog ang iyang kaunoran. Mangtas gayod ang nagbuhat niini! Mangtas! Mangtas!

Gipaliwas usa niya og pipila ka adlaw ang Pebrero 14 ayha siya milakaw aron ihatod ang kard nga iyang gipalit. Hapit na mokilom-kilom dihang mipahawa siya sa ilang balay. Wala niya dalha ang iyang motorsiklo kay dili niya buot nga dunay makamatikod kaniya tungod sa kabanha sa andar niini. Sa eskina unahan sa ilang balay, mipara siya og traysikol. Didto niya kini gipahunong pipila ka metros gikan sa ganghaan sa memorial park. Daw bug-at sa pag-ukon-ukon ang iyang mga lakang samtang misulod sa ganghaan sa memorial park ug mipadulong sa nahilunaan sa lubong ni Mam Barbara bitbit ang iyang pinili nga kard.

Gipatong niya sa lapida sa lubnganan ang kard. “Pasayloa ko, Mam Barbara, nga naulahi sa Valentine’s Day ning akong kard. Ug pasensya na gyod nga karon lang ko makahatag niining kard para nimo. Unsaon nga mataha man god ko moduol nimo.”

Nangurog ang iyang kaunoran, ug dinhay ingon sa liso sa santol nga misambol sa iyang tutonlan samtang milugmaw ang mga luha sa iyang mga mata. Naluya ang iyang tuhod busa nakaluhod siya atubangan sa lubong ni Mam Barbara. Gitay-og ang iyang lawas sa dili mapugngan ug subsob nga pagbakho.

Sa kabug-at sa iyang gibati, nahapla siya ibabaw sa lubong ni Mam Barbara. Padayon siya sa pagbakho. “Pasayloa ko, Mam Barbara, pasayloa intawon ko!” mituwaw siya samtang nagkurog nga gikapkap ang rebolber nga gisuksok sa iyang hawak.

Niadtong higayona, naatol nga dinhay tawo nga naglakaw sa aseras tabok sa memorial park. Kalit kining napahunong dihang nakabati sa sipa nga buto nga milanog gikan sulod sa sementeryo nga gisundan sa kahilom. “Kinsa kaha tong nagpabuto og lebentador sulod sa sementeryo?” nakapangutana kini sa kaugalingon samtang nangalot sa ulo.

Nianang sunod buntag, napalgan sa mga sayong niduaw sa sementeryo ang patayng lawas sa usa ka lalaki nga naghapa ibabaw sa lubong ni Mam Barbara nga adunay samad pinusilan sa tampihak ug usa ka rebolber tapad niini. Dinha sa lapida sa lubong nakita nila ang gipatong nga usa ka valentine card nga naay dibuho nga dakong kasingkasing nga gipalibotan sa nagkalain-laing bulok nga mga bulak ug adunay nasulat sa sulod niini nga “Pinangga, Happy Valentines. Labyu. Sori kaayo. Misyu. Imong nagpahiping maghahalad.”

Laut

Fiction by | May 8, 2023

The vigorous lapping of the waves signaled the arrival of Omar first, even before his

brother heard the familiar sound of the outrigger boat. Perhaps it was the six-hour bumpy van ride from downtown pueblo, followed by the stomach-churning two-hour banca ride until the easternmost coast of the Moro Gulf, but Omar swore there was that persistent low-pitch vibration that filled his ears with a whimper. Omar held his nose shut, and then blew into it. The whirring sound was still there. He yawned a couple of times—POP! Pressure finally equalized in his Eustachian tube. It had been years since he last visited his hometown, but one did not simply forget the lessons of one’s youth.

His brother, Abdel, was waiting for him by the docking site at the edge of a makeshift hut on bamboo stilts. What he lost in weight, he gained in the length of beard that now reached up to his chest. With his plain white robe and black skull cap, Omar thought Abdel looked like an Imam and felt suddenly uncomfortable in his sweat-drenched shirt and jeans.

Abdel extended his arms to welcome his little brother. “As salaam alaikum,” he said, and proceeded to engulf Omar in a tight embrace.

Omar was caught off-guard, but managed a meek “Wa alaikum saalam” in response. The words rolled out strangely in his tongue. He glanced at his phone that he had been clutching and realized, much to his dismay, that there was no signal on this island.

“Can you believe it? After decades of hiding, Tigburacao finally decided to resurface.”

Abdel gestured to the island before them—their hut was the only establishment there, the sand pink-and-white and pristine, huge casts of crabs skittering about, and lush mangrove forests that seemed appealing and uninviting at once.

Omar looked around. The mainland coast was practically invisible here. Their hut, although glaringly basic, had solar panels rigged up on its roof. Inside, there were only a couple of mats rolled neatly and stacked against one side, a laptop on a table made from a century-old tree trunk, the tail of a ray fish hung by the window for protection. A smaller shack was set not too far from their hut, which Omar guessed was their outdoor toilet.

And then there was the sea itself, so vast and incredibly blue, that Omar thought it was Photoshopped. The sky was already a burst of pink and orange swirls when Omar arrived, as the great ball of fire made its descent. It was an overwhelming sight to behold.

“Do you hear that?” Omar asked Abdel, his attention suddenly drawn to the humming of a strange melody.

“It is the sama-sellang, they say,” Abdel replied. “They sing the ancient song of the seafolks as they return down to unknown depths. That way, the seafloor would grant them entrance to their homes.”

Omar shook his head at how his brother was always the first to believe such preposterous tales, until Abdel’s laughter finally broke through his deadpan countenance. “Boy, the look on your face! You hardly changed, Omar!”

As they entered their hut, Abdel began explaining about the camera set on a tripod outside and how they could monitor the view while inside their hut through the laptop. “But this is no rocket science, I’m sure you’re used to setups more elaborate than this,” Abdel added after his short lecture.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m no scientist.”

It had always been a misconception at home that Omar’s degree in Applied Mathematics meant he was dabbling in Science as well. In exasperation, Omar admitted before that the most advanced equipment he had ever owned were a whiteboard with slider and some markers.

“I didn’t mean to put it that way,” Abdel said, unable to look at his brother in the eyes. “I will never understand what it is you do, Omar. But I hope you would tell me more about how you’re doing, you know? Ina had to learn about it from Bai Karim. You remember Bai

Karim? The old professor?”

Omar remembered him alright, his father’s close friend and his first Math mentor, but the embarrassment that the news had reached Bai Karim rendered him speechless.

“And what did Bai Karim have to say?” Omar managed to ask.

“That it was only a matter of time before you find the correct solution to the Na…Na…”

“The Navier-Stokes equations,” Omar finished for his brother. “Unfortunately, Abdel, the media doesn’t look at it that way. All they care for are clickbait headlines: Filipino Mathematician’s Solution to Million-dollar Problem Proved Wrong! As if monetary prize is the best way to describe a problem as elegant as that.”

Abdel could only stare at his brother, unsure how to comfort him or if he ever did want comforting. Before he could come up with an empty response, Abdel’s phone alarm blasted.

“It’s time to pray. Go wash up and I’ll roll the mat.”

Abdel checked his rusty compass so that they were facing the angle towards Mecca.  The two brothers, two dots in the sapphire blanket right before them, raised their hands and fell to their knees. Omar managed a self-conscious reply, Allah Akbar, as his brother intoned the opening line. The roaring of the waves drowned their voices, but Abdel did not seem to mind. As Omar placed his head on the bamboo floor, he heard once more the strange melody that seemed to emanate from the deepest depths of the ocean.

※

Omar woke up to the unrelenting hissing of an impatient kettle. His brother was nowhere in sight, he realized, as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. It had been so long since his slumber was not invaded by snippets from that nightmare of a press conference—a room full of people, most of which had no clue what fluid flow was, let alone the Navier-Stokes equations that he had been working on; the incessant camera flashes; the follow up questions that had little to do with Math; and the hounding demand for when the correct solution would be finished.

“Omar! Quick, you have to see this!” A harried Abdel, dripping with sea water, called out to Omar from the shore.

Outside, the graying dawn still engulfed the whole of the island and the sky was speckled with dusts from the cold, distant stars. An umboh, a floating hut, made its slow way towards the shore as two other houseboats tailed behind it. A melancholic tune echoed throughout, and even the waves changed its sound to a gentle swoosh.

“Look at the intricate structure of the umboh,” Abdel pointed at the meticulous carving that adorned the piece of wood where a covered body was laid to rest. “That person must be a chief or something.”

The two maintained a respectful distance as the group of Badjao finally made it to the sandy shore and into the mangrove forest. Although not an uncommon sight in downtown pueblo, it was the first time that the two witnessed the Badjao practicing their age-old traditions. Back in downtown Zamboanga, they were regarded as street urchins who played music for some loose change.

The excitement of that morning’s sight did not change the two’s appetite for coffee. “Didn’t Tigburacao just resurface recently? How come those Badjaos seemed sure of entering the mangrove forest?” Omar asked after his first cup.

“My guess is that they weren’t really heading for Tigburacao. It just so happened that this was the first island they sighted, and they had to bury the dead the soonest possible.”

“I wonder where they came from before arriving here. Are there other islets beyond

Tigburacao still within the waters of Zamboanga?”

“That we know of? Only a couple, according to marine surveillance, but both get swallowed by the sea at, say, past 5 pm.”

It was a gusty day, with the wind whipping through the bamboo stilts and howling all around them, that Omar and Abdel both decided it was best to stay indoors. The hum of the wind bored into Omar’s head, but Abdel seemed unfazed by it all. He monitored the image of the sea through the laptop, peacefully soaking in the varying shades of blue that the screen projected.

“Omar, Bai Karim told me a little about what it is you’re working on, you know. In terms I can understand, of course.”

“Really? And what did he say about it, pray tell.”

“Well, from what I understood, it is an incredibly tricky problem that bothered Mathematicians for years. Has something to do with modelling ocean currents and weather patterns, if I remember correctly.”

Omar nodded, keeping his face expressionless despite the mild surprise that people from back home were actually aware of his work. “It is precisely that…tricky. Years ago, a professor from Kazakhstan thought he had the answer to it as well, only to be proved later on by Terry Tao, from Los Angeles, that such approach wouldn’t work. The ocean isn’t exactly well behaved, so the three-dimensional global regularity for the equations is very challenging.”

After a lengthy pause, Abdel said with absolute certainty, “If anyone understands the irregularities of the ocean, it is you.” He then stood up and motioned for the mats, “Prayer time, little brother.”

※

Wild waves banging on the shore, static from what seemed like a radio transistor, the whistling of brazen wind. Omar felt beads of sweat roll down his temples. His lips were dry, and it took a huge amount of effort for him to straighten his numb legs. He had fallen asleep in the hammock made out of fishnets which they set just outside their hut. He judged by the sun’s position high up that it was close to midday, and confirmed this guess by checking the time on his phone.

Abdel stood at the shoreline, staring at the farthest reach of the water, his hand shielding his eyes from the blinding light. He sensed that his brother had already woken up and made his way back to Omar. “You were sound asleep! There was that loud one-note whistle and the sea was moving, like something was coming from underneath and the—”

“W-wait, what? Of course the sea is moving—they’re called waves!” Omar’s buzzing head made him impatient with his brother’s ramblings.

“No—no, I would know if it were only waves. It was a strange motion. Like something really huge was coming out of the water! Oh, I knew I should’ve woken you up!”

Omar surveyed the peaceful waters and could not help but roll his eyes in exasperation. The sun caught a shimmer on the metallic casing of his phone, displaying a no network coverage icon still. “There is nothing here, Abdel.”

Abdel looked at Omar pityingly, “Nothing in the waters? In the olden days, large fleets of mighty Sultans and the humblest of houseboats have sailed the seas for months on end. Without their phones! Out there, it was just them and Allah, and the journey made them a thousand fold wiser than us all!”

“This is nonsense! I should have known better than returned home for this.”

Abdel clucked his tongue, “I know you did not buy my sorry of a reason—survey the waters for research? It sounds stupid even to me. But you wanted to come home. There’s nothing wrong in admitting that.”

The wind hissed between the two of them: Omar, red and seething with rage and denial, and Abdel, calm with a stubborn smile plastered on his face. Omar stood his ground glumly, allowing heat to further soak his already drenched shirt in more sweat. From above, the sky was almost cloudless, save for the finger-like wisps that drifted aimlessly.

A few tense moments, until Abdel broke the icy silence with his hearty laughter, “Look at us! So foolish and full of ourselves! The outhouse—I just remembered now.”

“What about it?” Omar asked tentatively.

“Stand under the awning of the outhouse so that you’re facing the back end of our hut. You’ll get that elusive one signal bar there if you’re lucky. I’m guessing a few more minutes with you not checking on your emails and I’m good as dead meat. Go. Go there now.”

By the time Omar finished checking his email and halfheartedly browsing his Facebook for news of the outside world, he went back inside their hut, only to be welcomed by the scent of dark chocolate drink from cacao tablea. A warm cup was set on the table near the laptop, and Omar slurped his drink with abandon.

“So Apu still makes this stuff, eh?”

“Look who’s in a jolly good mood now,” Abdel teased. “I’m guessing you were lucky with the signal? But to answer your question, yes, Apu still makes the best tablea. She doubled the portions in the last package she sent when she learned you would be coming, too.”

There was no response for a moment, so Abdel turned his attention to the unchanging image of the sea on the laptop screen.

“I should’ve at least visited home before heading here. I could’ve spared a few hours at

least.”

Abdel only gave a faint nod.

Omar turned to the window and added bitterly, “I’m sorry. I’m such a disappointment to you all.”

Abdel sighed. “You’re never that to us, Omar. We are mighty proud of you! Besides, between a college dropout and a—what are you again? A PhD holder?—who do you think is the main source of pride at home?”

Omar remained silent.

“You just need to reflect some more, little brother. Seek help in patience and prayers.”

“And then I just wait for the ideas to come in while meditating, I suppose?” Omar asked.

“Inshallah,” Abdel responded.

His family’s favorite conversation ender, especially when the topic begged for more inquiry. Omar sighed, yet he felt the tension ease from his shoulders. Without being prompted by his brother, he unrolled the prayer mats and rinsed himself with water. He checked Abdel’s rusty compass and made sure they were facing the right direction.

※

On the island of Tigburacao, days bled into each other, one fiery sunset after another. Omar had learned to predict the incoming weather just by the sound of the wind. Today, the calm was absolute and it cocooned him. He knew that it was to be a stormy night, and he braced himself for it.

Resting on the wooden plank, his hand toying with the rope that held their outrigger boat was Abdel. The past few days, Abdel took to staring into the sea in the afternoon heat, only to be followed by obsessively monitoring the laptop screen that displayed the same body of water in the wee hours when it was too cold to stay out. When Omar called out to him, his gaze lifted past the cobalt blue waters, where it turned into a blanket of blackness as it touched the horizon.

“Abdel, I’ll unroll the mats now. Get inside before it starts to rain.”

Omar fumbled for Abdel’s rusty compass, which had been in his possession for days now. On nights like this, when the thrumming of the sea sounded like helicopters hovering close, Omar knew better than to leave his brother alone in quiet contemplation, so he kept a watchful eye on Abdel as he swept the floor inside. Abdel always seemed detached in those moments, his thoughts sailing away to the vast deep sea.

Omar cleared up the desk where the laptop remained plugged. As he lifted the laptop, he noticed a strange motion on the screen—a shadow of a hill, gradually mounting up into a tower, only to fall into shallow holes, exposing what seemed like bodies of land. Swollen waves poised to reveal the secrets from below, yet ready to crash over anyone who came near.  There was that deafening sound of a one-note whistle, and then ferocious waves came out lashing from all directions.

“Abdel! Abdel! You’ve got to see this!”

Omar sprang up from his position, just in time to catch Abdel who was already boarding their boat. Without much thought, he joined his brother and the two set out on their tiny boat, threading their way among great waves.

※

The sea whipped at them and they were drenched through and through. Their lungs ached for hungry gulps of air, but the waves were unforgiving. Around them were shades of blue and black, and cascading water from a nightmare that seemed to only increase in intensity. Omar couldn’t help but wonder, that in the random lashing of the water, there could be patterns that his limited perception was too slow to realize. As his mind drifted off to fanciful ideas, the hysterical whistling grew louder in strength and volume, pulling his mind into utter blankness. So this is how I die, Omar thought, only to be unceremoniously dragged by his brother back to reality.

“Omar!” Abdel grabbed him by the shirt and hauled. Amidst spits of seawater, Abdel managed to cough out his brother’s name and pointed at the spot in the ocean where the stars burst out their collective radiance.

Where the starlight cut through the void, creatures that seemed like a cross between man and fish walked through the now calm water, their footsteps in the form of ripples. Their faces were fluid and ever changing, and instead of skin they had scales the color of bright emeralds. A melody unheard of enveloped their small group, and as they descended into the unknown depths of the ocean, they turned their gaze up to the crescent moon.

“They’re beautiful,” Abdel whispered.

Omar rose to a diving position, but his brother stilled him and whispered into his ears, “It’s time to head back.”

※

The thunderous engine of a motorboat could be heard for minutes, and not long after, a worried Bai Karim appeared in their hut.

“Abdel and Omar—good to see you have all your limbs in place!” The old professor engulfed the two in a bear hug. He grinned from ear to ear when he turned to Omar, and he clasped the young boy’s hand, salaam.

“We were worried sick. We tried to contact you, Abdel, but all the networks were jammed last night. And the coast guard refused to let any vessel leave the mainland so early in the afternoon.”

“Nothing to worry about, Professor,” Omar gave a hesitant glance toward his brother, but Abdel seemed intent on the tobacco cigarette that the Professor had brought with him. “It was a rather peaceful evening here.”

Abdel laughed from the doorway, “Too peaceful, I think Omar couldn’t wait and head back to the University.”

“Ahh…about that, are you still pursuing that research, Omar?” The Professor asked.

Omar nodded. “But maybe after some more careful meditation,” he added sheepishly.

“Ask guidance from Allah all you want, but let me warn you that excessive meditation on your part can turn you into this hermit here.” The Professor gave Abdel a pointed look, but all three burst out laughing.

“That’s not so bad, actually,” Omar replied. “But I’m afraid I don’t have the facial hair for it. My flight back to Manila won’t be until three days. I’d like to spend my last few days at home, with Ama, Ina and Apu. Will you come with me, Abdel?”

“For a day, but I have to come back here.”

The old professor nodded his understanding, “You two are bound to do amazing feats,

Inshallah.”

The two brothers exchanged looks. Outside, the rhythmic pulse of the sea softly doused the sandy shores. There was a humming that was almost hypnotic, and the whole island of Tigburacao seemed threaded with fine gold.

“Inshallah,” Omar and Abdel answered in unison.

***

Sigrid Marianne Gayangos teaches in the BA English Creative Writing program of UP Mindanao. Her book of stories, Laut, published by the University of the Philippines Press in 2022 is available on Lazada and Shopee.

T. Wannee (Part 3)

Fiction by | March 27, 2023

Gaakal ang amoang class schedule sa tibuok semester. Diri man gud diay sa Thailand, isagol nila ang regular ug students with special needs. Ibutang ta, naay tulo o lima ka estudyante nga special. Pun-an pa sa 35 ka regular unya magdungan ni silag salida — mora gyod kag mayawaan. Naay magdagan-dagan libot sa klasehanan. Naa puy mokalit lang og tibi unya motiyabaw sa way daghang rason. Lahi pod ng magsirko-sirko sa imohang atubangan. Dayon duna puy lain nga magsigeg tahal sa iyang lapis hangtod kini mapudpod. Unya kani nga istilo nila ilabi na og matunong ka og First Period sa hapon, magsunod ni sila og pananghid nga moadto sa pansayan. Inosente pud tawon tang nitugot sa ilahang gipangayo. Dakong kahibulong nako nga taud-taod naman wala pa man nahibalik. Ug sa dihang akong giapas, nakit-an nako didto nga gadula ug gasinabligay og tubig. Nakaingon gyod kos akong kaugalingon og unsa ni silang klaseha sa mga mananap. Mayawaan gyod diay tuod ka. Bantog ra niana akong mga kauban nga mag-andam gyud sa gira kay lahi ni silag timplada. Tinuod gyod diay tong ilahang giingon nga Lunes pa lang, maluya ug mapagaw naka. Bantog ra pud diay nga dunay koy usa ka kaubang Pinoy nga gabalon permi og luy-a ug unsa pa tong klaseha sa habak ug panawal sa kalawasan. Panagang diay to niya aron dugay siyang malup-og.

Kabahin ni T. Wannee, nakabantay ko nga bugnaw ang iyang tinagdan nako sa unang semana sa akong pagtudlo. Paminaw nako, naniid kini sa akong batasan ug gawi ilabi na sa paagi sa akong pagtudlo. “Nakamenos man tingali ni nako si T. Wannee tungod kay dili ko Native English Speaker o NES. Bahala uroy siya sa iyang uray. Basta ako, magpadayon ko sa akong misyon diri” pag-alam-alam nako sa akong kaugalingon. Dili nako ikaulaw sa pag-angkon nga dunay mga higayon nga mokalit lang og tulo akong mga luha. Tingali agi sa akong kahiubos sa  akong pares. O kaha, agi pod sa kamingaw sa akong mga minahal sa kinabuhi nga nahibilin sa Cebu. Kamingaw, ilabi na gyod sa akong pinangga nga inahan nga maoy nagtuboy ug wala gyod gaduhaduha pagpugong kanako nga mangempleyo sa laing nasud.

“Master Glenn, you do traffic duty now!” pinabundak nga sugo ni T. Wannee sa akua samtang gapuliki kog check sa test papers. Apil man sa amoang tahas kada alas kwatro sa hapon ang pagbantay sa trapiko sa sulod-gawas nga mga pribadong sakyanan nga gimaneho sa ginikanan o bantay sa mga bantay. Mao pod ni ang oras nga tingpanguli nila. Ang klase sa prathom mahuman inig alas tres sa hapon. Dayon naa silay usa ka oras nga igahin para sa nagkadaiyang club. Wala ko kamatikod nga oras naman diay aron moabag ko sa mga Tayutay nga mangulohan pagka traffic enforcer. Oras pud ni sa laing papel namo aron mag-yaya ug yoyo. Tuod man, akong nasaksihan ang mga bata nga morag nagkadaiyang klase sa mananap nga nakabuhi sa kuwadra.

Naandan na nako ang maong bulohaton. Mausab lang kini kon adunay laing importanteng isugo nako si T. Wannee. Sama pananglitan kon naay umaabot nga English InterSchool Competition diin akoy patudluon niya og Extemporaneous Speech, Oration, o Spelling Bee sa amoang mga representante.

Katapusang semana sa Septiyembre, nagpahigayon og field trip ang Prathom 6. Adunay gigahin nga tagsa-tagsa ka mga bus ang matag seksyon diin ang class advisers maoy mangunay sa pag-uban ug monitor sa ilahang hinsakopan. Human namo napahimutang ang tanang mga bata ug wala nay mga kakulangon, padulong nako lingkod sa akuang pwesto duol sa drayber.

“Master Glenn, you sit beside me” maabi-abihong pagtawag ni T. Wannee nako. Tuod man, isip pagtahod kaniya ug sa mainitong imbitasyon, gidawat ko kini. Ang amoa diayng lamisa sa lawak-tunghaanan ni T. Wannee tapad ug buyon ra. Gamay ra ang gintang sa kalay-on niini. Apan bisan pa man sa maong sitwasyon sulod sa upat ka bulan, aduna gihapon koy kahingawa. Lahi ning kahimtanga karon. Magtapad mig lingkod sulod sa pipila ka mga oras. Usa pa, walay daghang babil tali namong duha.

“Tabang tanang mga Angheles ug Santos sa kalangitan! Tabang tanang mga kalag sa purgatoryo!!!” pangaliya nakog taman nga ako ra puy makadungog sa dihang nilingkod nako tapad ni T. Wannee.

Didto inanay nga gipaambit niya ang mabulokon nga tipik sa iyang kinabuhi. Nagdako siyang ilo ug maoy namat-an sa iyang buot ang pagpadako kaniya sa mga madre. Niya pa, pinikito ug inihap ang iyang lihok didto sa kumbento. Isip pagtan-aw nga dakong utang kabubut-on sa pagpadako, pagbuhi, ug pag-alima kaniya — giduphan niya ang maong bokasyon. Apan makadiyot ra ang iyang pagdawat sa papel isip kapikas ni Hesus tungod sa iyang sakit. Wala na niya gisugid kon unsa ning klaseha. Wala pod ko nangutana kay igo ra kong naminaw sa iyang pagpaambit. Tungod sa giaguman niyang sakit, nibiya siya sa iyang pagkamadre. Ug nakahukom nga magtudlo. Mathematics gyud iyang major pag college ug dili English. Dugang pa niya, nakita sa tag-iya ang talagsaon niyang hiyas sa pagtudlo ingon man usab ang kahaniti niya sa pag-Iningles. Gawas pa nga pinaagi sa maayo niyang pagpangulo sa SMGSP, kanunay kini nga makadawat sa nagkadaiyang klase sa pasidungog. Usa na niini ang kanunay nga pag-una sa listahan sa tinuig nga Ordinary National Educational Test kon O-NET nga pagasalmutan sa tanang tinun-an sa Prathom 6, Mathayom 3 ug 6. Mora pud ni og National Achievement Test o NAT sa atua. Dili momenos sa 95% ang overall performance rating sa maong tunghaan. Ang way samang dedikasyon ug ang paglaban sa dungog sa SMGSP mao gyuy pinakadakong rason  og nganong dili gyod buhian sa tag-iya si T. Wannee. Baynte ka tuig na diay siyang gatudlo sukad sa among panagkauban.

Samtang padayong gadagan ang gisakyan namong bus, padayon pod sa pag-asoy ang akong pares. Gisultian ko niya sa mga kanhi nakauban na niya nga Pinoy ug ang dili niya malimtan nga mga kasinatian uban nila. Ubay-ubay napod diay nga mga nasud ang iyang naadtuan. Daghan napod siyang nahimamat nga nagkadaiyang klase sa rasa. Apan usa sa mga wala nako damha nga gipaambit niya mao ang pagpakita sa hulagway sa iyang kanhi kapuyo nga farang. Usa kini ka retired US Army. Gipakita dayon niya sa akua ang pipila ka mga litrato nilang duha nga naa sa iyang selpon. Gikan ang maong hulagway sa una nilang panagkita sa Pattaya. Sweet kaayo silang duha. Kon hukman mo ang maong talan-awon, makaingon ka nga gikan ga-honeymoon.

Gitutokan ko ni T. Wannee. Dayag ang kaseryoso sa iyang nawong. Morag gisukod niya akong katakos. Nisugod og lagubo ang akong dughan kay basig mitukar napud iyang uray. Nikalit dayon kini og pahiyom. Laing klase sa Thai smile nga kato pa nako nabatyagan. Ang maong pahiyom daw sama katam-is sa dugos sa putyokan. Ug unya, iyang gipaak ang ubos ug pula niyang ngabil. Nagpitok-pitok iyang mga mata morag tamsi nga bag-ong natughan.

“Good guys go to heaven. Bad guys go to Pattaya. Are you bad, Master Glenn?”

Si Gerwin Vic Evarretta Bhuyo usa ka magtutudlo nga OFW sa Bangkok, Thailand. Kinaham niya ang pagkuha og mga hulagway, pagsulat og balak ug sugilanon. Kon walay kakulian, magyampungad ni siya sa mga ipahigayong book sale event.