Alona’s Quest for the Golden Tree

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Alona’s Quest for the Golden Tree

Chapter 25: Gossips

TWO WEEKS later…

The streets looked dismal; gray and grieving.

The whole barrio was in an uproar. Later that morning, a body was found sprawled on the central plaza. Several barangay tanod and police were circling the place cordoned by yellow “Do not Cross” line.

“Did you think this person was salvaged?” said Kagawad Marites, her voice loud among the throngs. “His body looked like it was riddled with bullet wounds.”

“There’s no way it was them,” said another, with a definite certainty. “Have you seen the marks? It was not the work of the human hands.”

“What are you saying?” said Manang Bebang. “You mean an aswang attacked him?”

“Indeed! Look at the state of him. Heart and liver taken out! What could it be?” he said, as if there was no doubt about it at all. “It was the work of an aswang.”

Everyone murmured agreement.

“What did he do to be attacked like that? Sabi nang stay away from dark places.”

I chuckled.

For me, it meant only one thing. It meant that a mother had lost her son.

I moved on.

AS I ran to the coastline, little kids waved and greeted me, saying “Hi’s and Hellos”. I didn’t know many of them, so I replied with a tentative, shy smile.
Among the kids, me and Ate Rachel became instant celebrities. Even Makisig and Brandon expressed regret for their last-minute bail out. Only Clara was adamant. She stubbornly insisted that what we did was very bad and very foolish. She said there was nothing amazing about it at all.

“Don’t you think they’re brave?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think they’re amazing?”

“No.”

Then, she would refuse to talk to us anymore.

The kids never paid Clara too much attention. They were so in awe of our adventure that they always circled around us, coaxing us to tell, to share, to talk. Most of them expressed their envy. They wished they could have been part of our adventure, to see everything we had seen.

Nowadays, Ma’am Rabano was careful when telling the story of the Golden Tree.

“Once upon a time,” she would say, her voice halfway between wistfulness and excitement, “in the Kingdom that stood in the middle of the ocean, there stood a very unusual tree. It was glittering and glowing, a Golden Tree that produces more fruits than any other tree.”

Everyone would gasp.

“One day, two little kids believed it a little too much. They went on to search for it, thinking the forest in the fairy tale exists in our very own forest. And that started the misadventures of two little kids, twisting the whole story upside down.”

Everyone laughed.

I couldn’t help but laugh, too. Except Ate Rachel. She had become really quiet. Whenever I looked too closely, I could see shadows of fear and terror in her eyes. I decided never to look too closely from then on.

When we were together, we talked about our grades, our food, our brothers. Our dreams. We never talked about what we saw in the forest.

I sprinted. I was not used to being the center of attention. So, I quickened my pace.

THE COASTLINE was especially busy with the arrival of several paddle-drawn boats. From a distance, they looked like tiny triangular dots bobbing along the waves. Kuya Maliksi’s boat was coming toward the shore.

I halted in front of it.

“Kuya! Kuya!” I said, jumping up and down.

With all the concentration of an expert paddler, he docked the boat.

“Kuya!” I called again. “Kuya!”

“Oh Ne?” he said. “Stay still for a while.”

The passengers went down one by one.

“You have one very enthusiastic little sister,” chuckled an amused voice, addressing Kuya Maliksi. A sight thoroughly different from everyone around him, the Mayor wore an extra-large flowery shirt tucked under a blue jeans.
Kuya Maliksi smiled a shy smile.

“Sometimes she was too much trouble.”

I grimaced. I’m not, I wanted to argue, I’m no trouble at all.

Of course, I wasn’t entirely truthful.

“You’re quite strong,” said the man beside the Mayor, looking at the way Kuya Maliksi handled the boat adeptly. “We could always use a hand like that, Mayor.”

The man who spoke was big with black bushy beard. When he smiled, there was a dazzling glint in his teeth.

I frowned. I tugged Kuya Maliksi. He ignored me.

Kuya Maliksi scratched his head shyly, pleased at the man’s praises.

“Do you really get someone like me? I work hard.”

The man gave him a once-over.

“You look fit enough,” said the man. “There is always a place in the Mayor’s staff for the likes of you.”

Kuya Maliksi’s face brightened up.

I tugged Kuya Maliksi’s arms.

“But I’m still in high school,” he said, trying to conceal his rising excitement at the prospect.

“Focus on your studies first,” said the Mayor. “If you ever need a job, visit me.”

Kuya Maliksi smiled. He liked socializing with powerful people.

“Thank you Mayor! Thank you so much!”

I tugged Kuya Maliksi’s arm. This time, really hard.

“What?” breathed Kuya Maliksi, annoyed.

I blinked, looking at him and the two men. My throat worked, but no sound came out.

“What is it, little girl?” said the big man, smiling down at me benignly, his teeth glinting.

I blinked, my throat drying up.

“I think Kuya Habagat’s baroto is coming,” I croaked.

That’s not what I wanted to say, actually.

“Oh,” said Kuya Maliksi. “Right. Habagat’s boat is coming. He was discharged today from the hospital.”

Worry crossed the Mayor’s face.

“Why? What happened?”

“Our brother got sick. He’s okay now, though.”

“That’s a relief, good.”

“Yes,” smiled my brother. “It was thanks to my sister actually.”

He gave me a very fond smile. My ears suddenly felt hot.

“Why? What happened?” asked the Mayor curiously.

Kuya Maliksi opened his mouth. Before he could answer, I interjected, “Long story po.”

“Oh,” answered the Mayor. “What a shame! I have a very busy schedule. Next time, I’ll listen to the story. You must tell me the story, huh?”

I nodded, smiling tentatively.

(c) 2016, Herbel Santiago

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