Dagmay.online

Chieftain Logaton lays a chunk of ground areca nut on the betel leaf, adds a dash of lime, and rolls the leaf. He hands the whole quid to Timuk.

Timuk bites off and chews. In a moment, the menthol taste of the quid cools his mouth.

Chieftain Logaton smiles at Timuk. “You don’t have to tell it to me, young man, but I know that’s the best quid you’ve ever had.”

Timuk spits the residue on the dirt floor. He says, “I won’t be stingy with my praise, Chieftain. You deserve the reputation for having a way with plants. You use the same ingredients as others do, but your hand adds magic to the quid.”

Logaton’s smile widens, exposing his red, areca-stained teeth. “Ah, but you have yet to taste my latest concoction. I found out betel quid tastes so much better when sprinkled with tobacco. I’ll make one for you. You should take it to your fagamal.”

“Tobacco? Isn’t that from the lowlands?”

Logaton stares at Timuk, his smile wiped away. “Yes,” the chieftain says. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Chieftain, I must come to the lakeg tree as pure as possible. My betel quid must not contain anything that is not from here, especially something that is brought by our enemies.”

“Oh, that Wot!” Logaton says. “He has poisoned your mind against the people from the plains. He is not content with sending you off with just betel quid. He also wants you to not enjoy the quid. A quid is just a quid, it’s not food. Only food is prohibited. You won’t violate any rule whether your quid has areca or tobacco or weed.”

“It wasn’t Chieftain Wot who told me about staying pure. It was Chieftain Bendung.”

“That Bendung, too. I’m sure he made you a beliyan like him. How does he expect chants to help you stay alive for nine days? To tell you what I truly feel, young man, this guardian seeking is madness. Nobody knows if akaws still exist.”

“Chieftain Sik, the next and last chieftain I’ll visit, had a spirit-guardian not a long time ago.”

“But not anymore. The spirits have left us, young man. What the other chieftains don’t see is that for the people of the plateau to survive, we must adapt to the times. We must learn the ways of the people from the plains. We need not fight Gantuangco. Do you know what I’ve done? I let the company use my territory without any objection. I struck a deal with Mr. Gantuangco himself. I told him I would not oppose the operation but the company must hire the people of my village as workers.”

Timuk’s mouth falls open.

Continue reading The Last Guardian Seeker, Part 2

Timuk wipes the tears off Wadina’s cheek. “I will come back,” he tells his wife, his hands cupping her chin.

“I know,” Wadina says. “I’m sorry, I can’t help but cry. I know you can do it. You can capture the akaw. It’s just that . . . Oh, Timuk, it’s too dangerous. For nine days, you have to stay in the lakeg tree without food, and then you will fight the spirit-guardian when it appears. Do you really have to do this?”

“I have to, Wadina. The five chieftains have chosen me. This quest is for all the Manobo people. We cannot fight the intruders on our own. They have guns. We need the akaw to protect us.”

Wadina takes a deep breath. “I will offer my prized hen to Nemula,” she says. “I know the almighty will help you. You have a good heart, Timuk, and you are brave and intelligent.”

Timuk smiles. He kisses the infant in Wadina’s arms and whispers, “Sleep tight, child. I am taking this fagamal for you. I want you and your brother to grow up without fear, safe in the land Nemula gave us.”

The older child, five summers old, stands silently beside Wadina. Timuk kneels down and tells him, “While Father’s gone, you take care of Mother, all right?”

“Yes, Father.” The boy speaks with the fluency of a grownup. “I’m the man of the house now.”

Timuk chuckles. “Good,” he says, tousling his son’s hair. “You remember everything I tell you.” He stands up and tells his wife, “Do not worry, Wadina. I am not alone in this quest. I will be bringing with me the counsel of the five chieftains. I have spoken to two of them, and I will drop by the remaining three on my way to the lakeg.”

“I trust you, Timuk,” Wadina says. “Your children and I will be waiting for you.”

“I will come back,” he says. He unties his horse from the tree and mounts it.

The other people from the village, huddled several feet behind Wadina, yell the guardian seeker goodbye. Timuk waves at them as the horse runs, disappearing into the other side of the hill.

Timuk feels cold, and he knows it’s not because of the wind sweeping past him. It’s because of fear. Despite the confidence he has shown his family and tribesmen, he’s not sure if he can capture the akaw, if he can grab its scrotum first. The chieftains have told him that if the akaw grabbed the seeker’s scrotum first, the man would lose his mind. For Timuk, it would be worse than death. It pains him to imagine himself going home talking to invisible people and laughing at inanimate objects. Wadina and the children will be hiding in shame all day. The kids in the neighborhood will tease him and make him dance. The elders will be shaking their head in disappointment.

Timuk reminds himself that he has to see three more chieftains. Perhaps after talking to them, he will finally be sure of himself. He lightly kicks the horse, and it speeds up, galloping on the footpath that leads to the village of Chieftain Wot. The pounding of the hooves is loud, but to Timuk’s ears, the beating of his heart sounds louder.

Continue reading The Last Guardian Seeker, Part 1