Category: Fiction

Stick in the Fridge

Fiction by | June 21, 2015

stickinfridge
Artwork by Nina Maria Alvarez

Pat loves her Papa so much, she follows him everywhere.

When her father goes to the living room to watch the evening news, she sits in his lap and leans on his chest. She loves it when her Papa carries her to bed when she falls asleep. She is not afraid of monsters under her bed because she knows her Papa is still awake and is just one cry away.

Whenever she becomes thirsty in the middle of the night or wants to pee, she carefully walks her way to the bathroom near their front door. Nerves set in when she reaches the stairs but she becomes calm when she smells the familiar smoke. It’s her father smoking in front of their house. Pat thinks that her father has been guarding them from monsters and thieves.

One night, she opens the door and runs to her Papa. He quickly sways his hand with a cigarette away from his daughter and asks, “Why are you still awake?”

“I’m thirsty,” she replied.

“Get some water and then go straight to your room, okay?”

“Do you mind if I stay here with you for a while?” Pat asks him.

“I’m sorry Pat, but get back to sleep now or you’ll stop growing,” he puts his cigarette stick on a flower pot and opens the door for Pat.

Continue reading Stick in the Fridge

Meg and the Turtle

Fiction by | June 14, 2015

meg_and_the_turtle
Artwork by Maria Louisa Pasilan

Meg always spent two weeks of her summer vacation with her Auntie Del, who lived with her husband Uncle Ben in an animal farm in Bansalan. Meg adored her aunt and uncle. They did not have any children of their own and they were always sending Meg dolls and books.

In the farm, Meg could run around without the danger of getting run over by big vehicles and she could milk the cows and the goats with Uncle Ben when she woke up early. Their farm was spacious: there was a shed for the cows, a pen for the pigs and goats, and a coop for the chickens. They even had a couple of horses that Uncle Ben and his help would ride. And so, she always looked forward to her stay in the farm.

After Meg settled into the room she had claimed as hers, Auntie Del led her to the back of the house. When she asked why, Auntie Del’s response was only, “I have something to show you.”

Continue reading Meg and the Turtle

Louis Vuitton

Fiction by | May 24, 2015

My mother’s boss, Louie Vergara, called home looking for my mother. It was nine in the evening and my younger sister had just fallen asleep. My father who works night shift in one of the posh hotels in our city had left earlier in the evening.

So it was only me and Mother who were still up and awake in the house. I was zipping the back of her gown when the phone rang. Father usually calls home to check on us. But it would be much later.

Lately, Mother has been attending business meetings with her boss, she told me one time when I was putting away her make up kit, that I would often think she must be a very good employee.

Mother shooed me to pick up the phone.

Continue reading Louis Vuitton

Pinikas, Ikaduhang Bahin

Fiction by | May 10, 2015

Usa ka hapon, pag-agi nako didtos tindahan ni Ante Nita, maoy tapik sa mga istambay ang umaabot nga piniliay.

“Unsaon na lang kaha ning atong eleksiyon, Pre, no? Morag haskang gubota.”

“Gubot pas imong bungot, Pre.”

“Ayawg tripingi nang akong bigote, Pre. Assit biya na. Haha!”

“Tuod, Pre, tiamona? Apil si Kulas modagan pagka kagawad? Pastilan! Puyde diay na?”

“Aw, apil man gani si Nong Karyo nga gabadhay-badhay nas katiguwang, modagan! Haha! Kon modaog siya, syur gyod ko nga dili niya mahuman iyang termino. Ma-terminit na siyag sayo!” dalag aksiyon og putol sa iyang liog.

“Haha! Ug, in pernis, Pre, si Minda nga mamingkahay, modagan pod kuno!”

“Lagi. Mao poy akong nadunggan.”

“Taymsa, si Botyok man diay ni.”

Continue reading Pinikas, Ikaduhang Bahin

Pinikas, Unang Bahin

Fiction by | May 3, 2015

DAKONG Balita: MAMINGKAHAY, MIDAGAN PAGKA KAGAWAD.

Kini ang nakapakignat sa among mga silingan sa Baryo Panatayan. Sa ilang unang pagkadungog niini, ila ming gihimong pulotan sa bahal nga gitinda ni Nanay Pirmin nga among silingan. Ug usahay pod, samtang ang mga babaye gapanlaba didto sa Aplaya o gahingotoay man ganing dihas ilang pantawan, gapadparan sa hangin ang ilang diskusyon padulong sa among balay ug kini molusot sa mga buslot namong bungbong hangtod kini among madunggan. Dako gyod nga balita!

Ambot ba pod, di nako masabtan nga misulod man sa alimpatakan ni Mama ang politika, kay sa tinuod lang gyod dili ko ganahan anang butanga. Alang nako, ang mga politiko puro mangingilad. Maayo lang na sila panahon sa kampanya. Saad diri, saad didto. Buhaton ko ni, buhaton ko na. Apan kon modaog na gani, hala! Makalimot na dayon. Kon inyong duolan para mangayog tabang, mangatol dayos ulo, dayon sa kilid. Morag among iro nga si Pusoy nga labihan kakutoon. Aha na kaha to karong buanga, ay? Mikalit lag kawala. Wala nay uli-uli human sa eleksiyon. Basig nabiktima to sa mga tambay didto sa ilang Nanay Pirmin. Matod pas mga tsika-tsika, dili daw na gapamili ang mga hangal. Bisag kagiron nga iro, basta luto na, lami na kuno kaayo! Kangil-ad.

Continue reading Pinikas, Unang Bahin

Eyes That Were Gray

Fiction by | April 26, 2015

The rain still had not stopped. It was already getting dark and my phone’s battery was critically low. I sat, annoyed and wet, inside a small rundown waiting shed a town away from my apartment. I would have been alone if it weren’t for another girl on the other edge of the concrete bench.

The girl had a slender physique and long straight jet-black hair that covered the side of her face. I could have sworn her ears were long and pointed. In the dim light her skin glowed and it was almost translucent. She was wearing a summer dress, as it was summer. But weather was always fickle.

“Ang tagal matapos ng ulan,” she spoke, breaking the rhythmic tapping of water on asphalt and metal.

“Huh?” What a stupid reply!

“Maliliit na patak ng tubig, sinasalo ng simento at bakal,” she said as she stared intently at the curved edges of the rusty roof. She turned to me and for the first time I was able to see her face–for the first time, I was able to gaze upon her eyes, gray, like the rain clouds. She was crying.

She wiped her eyes.

Continue reading Eyes That Were Gray

The Talisman, Part 3

Fiction by | April 5, 2015

Continued from Part 1 and Part 2

One morning, Tefu saw the woman retching. As she bent over the sink, he noticed that her belly was unusually big. “Are you pregnant?” Tefu asked her.

“Yes, I am,” the woman said.

Tefu was filled with joy. “So you have stopped taking the pill. You have learned to love me, and you now want to bear my child.”

“What are you talking about? I have not slept with you for months. You have stopped wearing that nasty necklace of yours. You’re not the father of my child.”

Tefu was filled with rage. He raised his hand to hit her. She flinched. Slowly he lowered his hand. He could not bring himself to hurt her, and, it dawned on him, it wasn’t because he loved her. It was because she had never been worthy of his love. He had made a terrible mistake. Everything he had used the talisman for was not worth it.

Continue reading The Talisman, Part 3

The Talisman, Part 2

Fiction by | March 29, 2015

Continued from Part 1

Fedawdaw laughed aloud. “Yes, indeed. You are old enough to marry. More than old enough, in fact. The men your age here already has children. But, inga, you don’t need an ungit. You don’t look bad, and you are educated. You don’t need a talisman to attract a woman. I can even arrange a marriage for you. My friend Datu Kling has a beautiful daughter. She’s—”

“The woman I like lives in the city.”

Fedawdaw fell silent.

“She’s a Catholic,” Tefu added. “She also works for the bishop, but as a secretary.”

“Well, I’m not surprised if you want to marry a Catholic woman. You are a Catholic yourself. The priest who sent you to school baptized you, didn’t he? He even gave you a new name. He calls you Ma . . .”

“Mateo. That’s who I am now. It’s the name I use in Cotabato.”

“Of course, inga. I understand. You want to marry a city girl. You want someone like you.”

“I’m still not quite like her, Iboh. She’s a college graduate. I finished high school only. I’m just a driver. She’s higher than me. I don’t even have the courage to say hello to her.”

Continue reading The Talisman, Part 2