The Weaver's Daughter

by Geraldine Solon

  I can’t make form of what she said. Pregnant? How could I be pregnant? That would be the devil’s child inside me.

  I scream. “You need to take this devil out of me.”

  Leticia holds me close in a tight embrace while she pacifies me. There is no way I could be pregnant. Now all my dreams are shattered. My life is definitely over.

  Part II

  Lotus

  Present Day

  All my life, Hacienda Hermosa is the only mansion I’ve ever known. My parents never allowed me to see what’s outside and although, I have everything I ever wanted, I feel like a princess trapped in a castle, I mean a prison.

  My parents named me Lotus because I almost died when I was a baby. Lotus means rebirth. My father said my mother almost bled to death after giving birth to me, that she could no longer bare any more children. After I was born, my parents, Isabel and Carlos Ongpin kept a close eye on me. I have no siblings, so all my life I’ve been alone or surrounded by adults. My parents home-schooled me and gave me the best lessons―piano, ballet, voice lessons, swimming and everything they could think off. They always wanted to provide the best for me, yet never asked me what I truly wanted.

  I don’t look anything like my mother, although I wish I had her green eyes. I sort of look like my father with his oval shaped face and deep set eyes, but if you ask me, both my parents are so cold and I’m glad that trait wasn’t passed on to me.

  I grew up keeping my opinion to myself. Everything I said or asked was already provided for. I didn’t want any more luxuries, I wanted a friend. It is so lonely in this mansion. There were some girls my age and daughters of my parent’s friends who often came to the mansion when my parents threw lavish parties, but I could never fully connect with them.

  My parents operate a weaving business which has grown immensely. I’m proud to say our family business is one of the pioneers in the Western Visayas region in the Philippines. After my grandmother died, my father took over the business. Often times, I would hear my mother complain about my father coming home late. He blamed it on work, but I know he was always drunk. Another time, he had slapped my mother on the cheek. She thought I wasn’t aware of his abuse, but I’m not naive. Like me, my mother was lonely and had no friends. All she did was wait for my father to come home. Even though we held parties at home, my mother was never good in socializing. She often kept to herself and seemed embarrassed each time my father got drunk.

  The only person that gave her life was my Uncle Ricardo who came to visit her once a year. He was the smart one who moved out of Hacienda Hermosa when he reached twenty one. He lives in America but just recently lost his wife to leukemia. My mother has been convincing him to return. I hope he does so we won’t be lonely anymore. They never had kids and so I don’t have any first cousins.

  My parents aren’t aware I love to work with my hands. I’ve seen the weaving that the factory workers do and it has truly excites me. I’ve always marveled on the delicate process of how something ordinary like the Piña―pineapple leaves could transform into an extraordinary dress and barong. Weddings and parties are important events in the Philippines and knowing that majority of the people in the country wear what we produce only makes it more magical.

  My father repeatedly told me, you don’t have to do that. You are privileged and will not need to work. What you ought to do is marry a rich man who can provide for your needs. He needs to be richer and more successful than I am. But I didn’t want a rich man or any man for that matter to provide for me. I yearn for my freedom and independence.

  What my parents don’t know is that I sneak in the factory at night and weave. It’s the only place I feel free. While I’m there, I keep thinking about my escape and the outside world. I imagine getting lost in the chaos and having to find my way to freedom.

  I turn eighteen this Saturday. My only wish is to leave the mansion. My parents have argued about putting me in a proper high school. My over-protective mother insists I continue with my home-schooling, while my father is adamant that it’s time for me to see the outside world and therefore, should spend my senior year at a proper school. What difference does it make anyway, people would most likely think I’m a freak all locked up in a mansion up in the hill. My father is introducing me to James, the son of his friend, Jaime. My parents are still old-fashioned in that sense wanting to preserve the Spanish blood. As my grandmother used to say when she was alive, Mejorar la raza―improve the race. He said James would make a good husband in the future. I don’t want a husband. I want to see the world with my own eyes. I want to have my own perspective, but most of all, I want to be loved for who I am.

  James is seated across me at the dinner table. I feel so awkward and don’t know what to talk about with him. I’ve never been around boys before and his lankiness, ain’t my type. I feel so uncomfortable with the dress I’m wearing and could have sewn a better dress than this. It’s so loose, I’m drowning.

  James will be going to the same school as I do and it’s either I make friends with him now or just ignore him. He attempts to make conversation with me, probably sensing my awkwardness because both our parents are solely watching our every move.

  “What are your hobbies?”

  I want to roll my eyes and skip the chit chat and tell him I’m not interested, but instead, I flash him my polite smile and say, “Reading, swimming and playing the piano.”

  He leans closer to me. “Perhaps we can go swimming sometime.”

  I could yawn now with boredom but find myself nodding in agreement.

  “Are you excited for our first day of school tomorrow?”

  Nobody has ever asked me how I felt before. My feelings didn’t matter in this house. As long as I was well fed, clothed and housed, my parents believed I was fine. All the tears I kept inside begun to overflow. I bolt upright and dash toward the stairs heading to the attic which has been my bedroom all my life.

  The last thing I hear is my mother’s words. “I’m sorry, James. My daughter hasn’t been feeling well lately, but she’ll be at school tomorrow, eight o’clock sharp.”

  I lock my door and collapse into the bed. I lay there for hours hoping someone will rescue me from this misery, but nobody comes. My parents don’t even care to check on me, but what they fail to realize is that I can smell and hear any tension they have because my bedroom is right above there’s. They are both hypocrites wanting to appear we’re a happy family, but the dark circles in my mother’s eyes fail to conceal the misery she feels inside.

  Tomorrow my fate will change.

  I march down the hallway with a huge bag filled with books. After trying different outfits, my mother insisted I wear a woven blouse and skirt made by our weavers. Sweat is pouring down my back and the girls are snickering at me. Everybody’s wearing jeans and normal clothes except for me.

  Wanting to escape the premises, I realize that going back to that prison is much worse than here. So instead, I leave my books inside the locker and pretend I don’t notice them.

  James pops in and takes my bag. “Are you ready for class?”

  I pull it away from him. “Let me carry that.” From the corner of my eye, I spot the three girls who laughed at me are now staring at both of us.

  A girl with long hair that seems to be the prettiest one among them and the leader of the group tilts her head to the right. “Hi James, who is your friend?”

  James seems to be liking the attention, but never leaves my side. “This is Lotus.” He faces me. “Lotus, this is Angela, Cynthia and Kathy.”

  I flash them a fake sweet smile. Even though I was locked up in the mansion, I knew early on to read between the lines and identify unspoken words.

  “Lotus? As in the flower?” Kathy, the girl with short hair and thick lipstick asks. She seems amused by my name.

  The two girls giggle.

  James grips my arm signaling me that he
’s going to take care of this. “Lotus is new here. She lives in Hacienda Hermosa.”

  “You mean the mansion up in the hill?” They all gush in unison.

  Now it’s my turn to be amused because individually, these three girls have no identity. They look like pathetic, social climbers who have nothing better to do.

  “Is it haunted?” Cynthia, the more demure one with pale skin asks. “I’ve always wanted to visit that place. Can you invite us over?”

  “Yes, can we do a sleepover?” Angela chimes in.

  Before I could say something, the bell rings and just as I expected, the attention is now all on me.

  James escorts me to class. I believe my mother gave him clear instructions to never leave my side. He’s more protective than them, but that’s okay, he’d make a good ally for my plans to escape. For now, I will just go with the flow and blend in with the crowd.

  Our first class is Philosophy, my favorite subject. I’m surrounded by James and the three girls. The other classmates all give me blank stares. I feel like an alien and can’t wait to get rid of what I’m wearing.

  James nudges me and whispers. “You’ll be fine.”

  A tall, muscular man with the most refined features I’ve graced upon glides in like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. His olive-toned skin glows while he stands tall with conviction.

  A rapid sound bounces on my chest. Is that my heartbeat?

  All eyes are glued to our teacher. I can’t seem to look at him. A wave of excitement showers upon me. I’ve read every romance novel on the planet that I could get my hands on, but only now can I understand the raw emotions I’m feeling.

  He seems to be used to the attention and nonchalantly addresses the class. “Good morning, I’m Mr. Florentino. Today, we’re going to discuss the word ‘normal’ and what you believe to be normal or not normal.”

  Grabbing a chalk, he scribbles on the board in bold letters, NORMAL.

  I’m most likely the walking epitome of abnormal. God, this is so wrong. I never anticipated the outside world to confirm what I’m feeling. Everything I have experienced has hit me right smack on my face. No warnings, no clues, just like a huge truck traveling on full speed toward me. Maybe that’s why my parents chose to protect me. But you know what, I LIKE IT.

  “The Webster dictionary defines normal as, usual or ordinary: not strange.” He glides around the classroom looking like an angel. “Who wants to share their thoughts?”

  All eyes avert toward my direction.

  “You.” He nods his head at me. “Everyone, please meet Lotus Ongpin, the young lady who lives in Hacienda Hermosa. You’re new here. Perhaps you’d like to contribute some insight.”

  I point to my chest knowing I can’t escape being the center of attention. Since when did someone wish to know my opinion? When at home, nobody cared to ask what I felt. I was always alone to collect my thoughts―thoughts I often wrestled with. I had a lot to say to myself and wasn’t sure if I should broadcast it now.

  But then I decide to bolt upright from my chair and straighten my shoulders with fervor. I face the students and open my mouth, but no words can come out. “N-n-N-n . . .”

  Boisterous laughter erupts and the crowd mocks me.

  “I told you, she was a freak,” A boy wearing khaki pants grins.

  I feel flushed and want to leave, but Mr. Florentino raises his voice. “Silence. Give the lady a chance to express herself.”

  The noises dissolve and all heads are bowed down. I’m thrilled he called me a lady and decide to prove to him right with a smart response.

  Clearing my throat, I pretend nobody’s watching over me and here comes my speech. “Normal is objective. What may be normal for me could be abnormal for you. I don’t think we’re here to judge what’s normal or not, because we can all be dysfunctional in many ways.” I take a deep breath knowing I’m now sharing a piece of myself, which I’ve been hiding too long already and can’t contain it, so I continue. “This is my first day and I’m sure many of you think I’m the strange kid who has been locked up all my life in a haunted mansion up on a hill. But the truth is, I share the same struggles teenagers like you do. I wish to find a sense of belonging, to build friendships, and be accepted for who I am. I don’t want to be normal. Normal is boring.”

  Then suddenly, the crowd applauds and gives me a standing ovation. People hover around me like I’m a celebrity. My cheeks are flaming and I feel like I’m floating beneath the clouds.

  Mr. Florentino’s eyes gleam toward me. “Thank you for sharing, Lotus. Is there anyone else who would like to share?”

  Nobody dares to raise their hand. I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with the attention I’m receiving, but I can’t help myself, Philosophy is my favorite subject. I have an inquisitive mind and would love to spend hours talking to an intelligent person.

  We break for recess, and James glued to my hip. “You were amazing back there.”

  My spirits are up and soaring. “Thank you. It was an incredible day.”

  For the first time in my life, both my parents are interested to hear how my day went. They stay inside my bedroom for hours asking me all the details of how school was, what the subjects were like, and if I met any new friends.

  I’m not used to all the attention they are giving me, but more than anything I witness the light flicker in their eyes―a light I failed to see all this time. My mother especially seems like she’s reliving her childhood. More than anything, I pity her. My father isn’t a nice man to begin with and yet I’m aware she stuck it out with him due to her strong faith in God and because of me.

  Every morning she prays countless Our Father’s and Hail Mary’s to cleanse herself. I wish she could meet someone who would love her for who she is. My thoughts shift to Mr. Florentino who seems so passionate teaching about Philosophy and although he appears to be around fifteen years older than me, I wish he could rescue me and take me away from this misery.

  The three girls are waiting for me by the locker upon my arrival. Kathy looks up and studies my powder white woven dress. I’m beginning to like the attention. At least I stand out in a crowd.

  The boys whisper behind my back as I take the seat in front. Mr. Florentino is the only person that I’m interested in. Today, he’s wearing tight black pants that truly define his most flattering feature. Oh boy! Is this what lust feels like?

  A crumpled paper lands on my table. I spin my head back to see who tossed it from behind, but nobody budges. Opening the paper, I read its contents. In bold letters, the word FREAK is written. Like a lady filled with grace, I fold the paper over and over again and pretend it doesn’t bother me.

  “Lotus,” Mr. Florentino addresses me. “Is there something wrong?” He eyes the paper.

  Straightening my shoulders, I mumble, “I’m sorry.”

  He reaches out for the folder paper. “You seem distracted.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest. I want to get a hold of the paper, but it’s too late.

  He reads it out loud.

  The class gets rowdy with laughter,

  His lips form a wide line. “Who wrote this?”

  Nobody budges.

  This time with a louder voice, he repeats what he said, “Who wrote this?”

  People exchange glances, but none of them raise their hands.

  “I will not tolerate bullying and humiliation in my class. Since none of you want to admit that you wrote this, then all of you except Lotus will be sent to detention after dismissal.”

  Groans fill the air.

  The bell rings and my classmates drag their feet as they exit the classroom, all of whom are flashing me dirty looks.

  Mr. Florentino requests that I stay behind. For a moment, I feel like a queen and don’t care if my classmates think I’m a freak. They don’t mean anything to me. I must admit f
or the first time in my life, I found my true hero. The man that rescued me today. I will never forget this.

  After the noise from the break dies down, Mr. Florentino speaks to me in a gentle tone. “Nobody should ever treat you that way, Lotus. Not in my class and not outside.”

  My voice quivers as I speak. “Thank you for protecting me today.”

  “I will always protect my students from the bullies, but when you’re outside the classroom, you need to stand up for yourself.”

  Thoughts shift to my mother, the ever loyal martyr. I know she not only suffers from emotional abuse, but I’ve seen bruises in her arms which she tries to cover up with a long-sleeved shirt. “I appreciate it.”

  “Have a good afternoon, Lotus.”

  I leave the room like I’m walking on top of the clouds. He not only made my day, he made up for every boring moment I’ve had in my life.

  A couple of weeks passed since that bullying incident, but nobody dares to mention it in school. I would often get blank stares from students and as soon as my gaze meets theirs, they would immediately turn their heads to a different direction.

  I don’t care, my focus lies on Mr. Florentino and obtaining excellent grades. I manage to get straight A’s in his class and all my other subjects. He’s my inspiration. I often think of him before going to bed and wonder what it would be like to kiss his red lips and feel his bare skin next to mine. A cold shiver runs through my spine knowing my parents would raise hell if they knew my innermost desires.

  James and the group didn’t even dare mention about what happened in the classroom, but he looks so chirpy this morning at the cafeteria.

  “Hey, girls, did you see the new English teacher? The one replacing Ms. Lopez?”

  “The head turner wearing a short black dress?” Angela leans forward.

  “Yeah, Ms. Garcia. I heard she’s the fiancé of Mr. Florentino.”