Alona’s Quest for the Golden Tree

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Alona’s Quest for the Golden Tree

Chapter 1: The Tale of the Golden Tree

I HAD ALWAYS been adventurous, if not rebellious altogether. In itself, that’s not a bad thing. At least, not most of the time.

At times though, I could hardly believe the kind of trouble I tend to bring upon myself.

But, I was getting ahead of myself. Let me back up a second. Allow me to tell you the origins of such adorably original, but terribly pesky, cheekiness.

It started twenty-years ago, in a sleepy fishing village in Dimasalang, Masbate. It was an island barrio, one of the many seven thousands that dotted the country. My hometown was fringed with beaches at the front and mountainous virgin forests at the back. The vastness of the Dimasalang Sea and the Naro Bay embraced the village, isolating it. Masbate City, the center of commercialization and the site of trade, was a few hours away. Even that was only possible if one will ride a particularly nastily fast motorboat. My little turf was cut away from civilization. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

Of course, I didn’t think of it that way then.

I thought I lived in paradise.

Everyday, the reflection of the orangey rays of the emerging sun bounced off the blueness of the sea. The symphony of the lapping waves serenaded the town’s hustle and bustle. They brought with them the scent of the ocean. It was salty and briny and strong.

Some of the houses were located beside the seashore. These houses looked like drifting rectangular shapes floating above the water. These long poles supported the houses against the unpredictable blows of nature.

The official tale began when I learned about the Golden Tree.

Ma’am Rabano was my Grade 2 teacher. She was dark and tall, with hair as long as Rapunzel. She liked to tell stories. That day, she was telling us about the story of the Golden Tree.

“Once upon a time,” she said, her voice halfway between wistfulness and excitement, “in the kingdom that flourished in the middle of the ocean, there stood a very unusual tree. It was glittering and glowing, a golden tree that produced more fruits than any other tree. It was an amazing tree!”

I gasped. So did everyone.

“According to the legends, the Golden Tree sprang from the buried egg of the Ibong Adarna. Nothing had ever been most mystical and powerful than Ibong Adarna, whose beautiful voice can cure all kinds of diseases. The last Datu of the Kingdom, Don Juan, gave the tree as a gift to his people when he died. As long as the tree stood, the people never went hungry. The tree gave them all the food and riches that they needed.”

“Wow. I’d like one of that,” said Clara, the prettiest girl in the class. She was neat and clean. Her father worked for the Mayor and her mother was a teacher. “It’s going to be really pretty.”

“I’ll have it,” piped Ate Rachel. “I’ll eat all the fruits.”

Ate Rachel’s not really my sister but she was older than all of us. She skipped school twice. She went to school bare-footed, and her blouse had stitches and holes in it.

“But it’s a Golden Tree, silly,” protested Clara. “Your teeth would crack if you eat it.”

 “But the people could eat it. The fruits are edible, surely,” argued another of my classmate reasonably.

I nodded in agreement, too.

“I’m glad that you are all paying attention,” said Ma’am Rabano above the din, “for the people that wanted food, the tree lent its fruits. For their money, the tree had plenty of gold to give out. For a while, everyone lived in contentment and harmony. However, soon some of them started wanting the tree for themselves. They grew greedy. Soon, there were chaos and killing.”

Everyone gasped as one.

“The Golden Tree grew sad because it became the source of dispute. One day, while everyone was asleep, the tree disappeared.”

Everyone’s eyes grew big.

“From then on, the people started going hungry. They became really poor. Losing the Golden Tree had become the greatest regret of their life.”

“Tsk,” chuckled one of my classmates.

I grew sad. A Golden Tree that could provide food and gold. It must have been really amazing.

“But Ma’am,” said Clara, “the Golden Tree disappeared? That’s impossible!”

Ma’am Rabano paused dramatically.

“That is the most curious thing, my children,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Some orators said it didn’t really disappear. It just hidden itself, hidden itself so well you wouldn’t recognize it even if it bits you in the face.” 

Everyone laughed. 

“Where exactly? I have no idea, my children.  But, they predicted that in front of someone who is worthy and brave, the Golden Tree will show itself again. Maybe, it will grow underneath the ocean floor. Or it might exist in the middle of the great forest.”

She said the last bit with a wink.

Everyone looked at Ma’am Rabano dumbly. Their young minds pondering on the meaning of what she said.

I did, too.

That day started my quest for the Golden Tree.

(c) 2016, Herbel Santiago

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