The old lady shrugged and wandered behind the counter. She returned the dust to its jar, wiped her hands on her apron, and leaned on her elbows on the countertop. “The west regions of our islands, Visayan, the Iloilo, the Antique provinces are rich with supernatural activity. There are some multo, ghost stories, but not like here. Americans believe in ghosts, Filipinos do not. Ghosts are not our evil. There are provinces known for goblins, ghouls, and for the tikbalang, a giant horse-man. The Capiz province, on Panay Island, is rife with covens of witches, what we call mangkukulam. All over the Philippines, on every island and in every province, live the terrible manananggals.”
“Menon? Gals?” Ben exclaimed. “You mean that's one word?”
Poni nodded. “Manananggal is the name of the most feared creature in the Philippine islands.”
“I've heard it. I didn't understand it to be one word. But that's it – Manananggal. There's another word I wanted to ask about. Aswang? Do you know—”
“Aswang, of course,” she said. “These are the same creature. The manananggal. The aswang.”
“But what is it?”
“Even the native peoples cannot agree on this, on who or what is this creature. They cannot agree, but all fear it. To some it is a viscera sucker. To some, it is a drinker of blood like the vampire. To others, aswang is a demon that can possess a human being and inflict great harm on its host and those it hates. To some, especially the young, aswang is, how would you say…” Poni threw her head back, searching for the words she wanted. “A bogeyman. They have no respect for good and evil. They frighten their children with these stories to keep them off the streets and home at night. But to others, to many, the superstitions are real.”
“But the creature,” Ben said. “Aswang? Manananggal? Whatever you call it. What is it?”
“It is a being of enormous power. It can transform itself into any shape, even inanimate objects, to get near to its victim. Like many creatures, it will kill to defend itself. But it preys upon children. And women who are pregnant. And the sick and the weak. Sometimes aswang will play tricks. Once it has overpowered a victim, it will take a bundle of sticks, some talahib grass, and rice or banana stalks, and make with these a replica of its victim. It breathes unholy life into this replica and sends it back home while taking the real victim to kill and eat.”
Ben laughed. “The folks back home don't notice the difference?”
“You joke because you are ignorant. No one goes near because the replica looks sick. It quickly dies. By then the real victim is gone with manananggal.”
Ben quit laughing. Ridiculous or not, Poni believed the tale she was telling and was afraid.
“Some say aswang eats children, favoring their livers and hearts. Others say the creature eats the child's soul. They are said to love the souls of the unborn. Pregnancy is a time of great fear for Philippine women because Aswang causes miscarriage and sickness. They rob graves, kidnap children, and fill the night with strange noises.”
“And it can look like anyone?”
“Or anything,” Poni said. “Aswang can leave its human form, transform into the likeness of a dog, a snake, or a bat.”
“Like a vampire?”
“It is not a vampire. Manananggal is not undead. During daylight hours, it's a living being. Male or female, but usually female. It may appear quite young, ageless, even when the creature is very old. It does not speak without great need. It is quiet when acting human, when not in another form and not detached from its body—”
“Wait. What? Detached from its body?”
“Manananggal means 'to separate'. Aswang, it is said, can separate at the waist, leave its legs behind, and growing wings, can take to the air to stalk its victims. After it feeds, it rejoins its legs, and returns to human form. They are not vampires; they are demons.”
“Assuming this thing was real,” Ben asked. “How could you beat it? Destroy it?”
“It is best to not meet aswang. If you look for them, they will know and they will come for you. If aswang wants you, run away. Run and take your loved ones with you.”
“What if I couldn't?” Ben asked. “What if I had no choice but to meet this creature?”
“It can be fought. But not by a non-believer.” The old woman studied him. “It can be beaten. But you must be properly equipped.” She turned, searching the shelves behind her, and pulled a shining stake from a box. “Copper,” she said. “A copper stake is best. Real copper. Guaranteed.”
“Guaranteed to work?” Ben asked.
“No,” she said pointedly. “Guaranteed to be ninety-nine point nine percent pure copper.” She held it up. “Point 625-inch diameter by twelve-inch copper round rod. With excellent electrical conductivity for pinning aswang's life force to eternity. Twenty-nine dollars thirty each.”
Ben laughed. “If I had twenty-nine dollars thirty for one of these stakes, what would I do with it?”
“You would stab the creature, of course.” She scowled, sounding suspicious that Ben was wasting her time, and put the stake back on the shelf.
“Stab the creature in the heart, Aunt Poni?” Chesa asked hurriedly.
“No, no, no.” Poni waved her niece's response away, turned, and pulled her gray hair aside. She pointed a withered finger at the nape of her own pale neck. “In the back of the neck. It is better done by a priest, or man of God but, if there's none, it can be done by a true believer in the goodness of God.” She eyed Ben dismally. “Perhaps you can find one.”
Ben smacked his lips.
Poni went on. “The believer stabs the creature through the neck with the stake of copper, and in doing so, pins the monster to its afterlife.”
“Aswang holds still for that?” Ben asked in disbelief.
Poni frowned and looked to Chesa. Chesa frowned at Ben. Poni said something in Tagalog, or maybe Angelina's Taglish. Chesa clearly agreed but didn't translate.
Ben got the message. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't mean to be ignorant. I appreciate your aunt's help. I appreciate both of you. Could you please ask…” He stopped, remembering the old girl spoke English, and turned to Poni. “How do you get close enough to the monster to pin it with copper?”
“You cannot wait for aswang to come upon you. To do so is to die.”
“Right. That's what I'm saying. What do you recommend?”
“I recommend you forget this. If you will not, if you are determined, you must find the creature's lair and trap it.” Poni lifted a crystal bottle from a collection on the shelf and held it up. “In a glass container, a vial or bottle you can see through, like this, you must carry with you blessed oil, coconut oil prayed over by a priest, the prayer stirred in with the stem of a banana leaf.”
Ben pointed at the bottle. “Is that blessed coconut oil there?”
“Just so,” Poni pointed at the bottle. “When aswang is near the oil begins to boil. It will boil until the demon has departed. Twelve dollars ninety-nine for the bottle.”
Ben bit his tongue.
“Like your vampire, you can keep aswang away with garlic. They abhor the smell.” Poni grabbed a necklace of garlic bulbs from the counter, shook it, then hung it around her own neck. “This is mine; not for sale. I don't sell enough to keep them fresh. Get it at any grocery store.” A light went on behind her old gray eyes and she was off again, to the jar of dust she'd visited before. “Sacred ash,” she said. Instead of grabbing out a handful, she merely tipped the jar so Ben could see the contents. “You hold the monster at bay with ash, blessed by a priest.”
“How much?” Ben barked.
“Eighteen ninety-nine a box, already blessed. Crucifixes, pocket to altar size. Six ninety-nine to ninety-nine ninety-nine.” She didn't wait to see if she'd made a sale. “You can drive the creature back using the tail of the manta as a whip.”
“The manta?” Ben asked.
“A Devil Fish,” Poni said. “The creature called the manta ray. You cut the tail off and use it as a weapon, a whip, against aswang.�
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“Do you have one?”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Where would I keep it?”
“Blessed by a priest, I imagine?”
“Yes.”
Ben shook his head. He'd heard a lot of nonsense in his life. He'd also wasted a lot of time over the years. Never had he heard so much bullshit and wasted so much time all at once.
“Why do you ask this?” Poni demanded. “How do you know this creature?”
Ready to walk, Ben paused to indulge the old lady. “There've been a number of deaths in the city. Unexplained deaths of pregnant women.” Poni crossed herself. “But not everyone has died in the same way. One, a man, had completely different wounds. I doubt aswang was the culprit.”
“Do not be so quick. Perhaps there is more than one creature.”
“More than one aswang? They travel in groups?”
“There are many kinds of aswang. Look for peculiar people, odd habits, these give aswang away. There is the sigbin, the little aswang, said to look like the chupacabra or Tasmanian devil, with spotted fur, a wide mouth, and fangs. There is the witch aswang, a common creature who appears as a hag with unkempt hair, uncut nails, and a long, black tongue.”
Ben sighed, and without meaning to, rolled his eyes. He would have laughed, but it wasn't funny anymore. He was tired of the whole thing and fighting the urge to say so.
“You do not believe?” Poni asked sharply.
“It's a little unbelievable.”
“You ask about aswang, I tell you. But, if there is a second monster, it may not be aswang.”
“Good grief, a second monster? You mean there are two creatures? Two different creatures?”
“There could be. It could be aswang and its familiar. Like the witch's black cat, or the shark's remora, aswang has a familiar. It is another demon spirit, summoned to do its bidding. The herald of aswang, it sings a warning at the creature's approach. The tik-tik is named for its song.”
“The tik-tik?”
“A huge bird-like creature that prowls the night with aswang. It is cursed to warn of aswang's attack, to sing at its approach. But the tik-tik is a damned creature and a liar. It confuses those it warns. It sings loudly when aswang is far away, quietly when aswang is near and ready to strike. You know aswang comes, but it lies as to when. Aswang, with the long tongue, is the stealer of unborn souls. Tik-tik, with the talons, is the drinker of blood, feeding on that which aswang leaves.”
The old biddy was really putting on a show, and in spite of himself, Ben was suddenly breathless. Still it was ridiculous and he couldn't help but shake his head. “Two monsters.”
“Yes. They kill alone and together. That is what is so frightening.” Poni drew near and stared up into Ben's eyes. “There is a saying, repeated all over the islands: Pray to the virgin when the tik-tik sings.”
Twenty – Five
“Did you go?” Nestor shouted. “Did you hook up with Chesa? Did you see her aunt?”
“Yes,” Ben said, holding his phone at a distance to save his hearing. “I did what you asked. I talked to everyone you asked me to talk to. It was a complete bust.”
“Didn't she help?”
“Yes. She helped me to see this is all nonsense. That old woman's crazy. The meeting was a scam to sell me worthless junk.”
“Forget what she tried to sell you. What did she tell you?”
“Stop screaming at me.” Ben sank onto his couch. “I was fed Philippine lore until I couldn't swallow another bite. It was entertaining, but there's less horseshit in a racing stable. To be honest, Paco, I feel like such a fool I don't want to talk about the details.”
“You knew it was going to be strange.”
“Strange I could have handled. This was bug house.” Ben paused, reconsidered to whom he was speaking and where Nestor currently resided. “Sorry. I didn't mean it—”
“What did she say?” Nestor demanded, ignoring the comment and the apology.
“She agreed with you. Our problem is a monster, aswang or manananggal, the words Ruzicki used, and its familiar, the tik-tik, which is another word he used, not a sound I thought he was making. We can only fight it with… wait.” Ben dug into his pocket. “I made a list when I got back to the car. I didn't want to spill a drop.” He studied his own scrawl. “Let's see… We need coconut oil to warn of the creature's presence. A copper stake for, get this, driving through the monster's neck to pin it to the afterlife. Ashes, blessed by a priest, to sanctify its lair. And, lucky us, she sells each of those items, not cheaply. It was a joke.”
“What else did she say?”
“What else?” He consulted the list again. “Oh, it doesn't like garlic. But Poni doesn't carry garlic; can't keep it fresh. You might know the one item I could afford, she doesn't carry.”
“Ben, I don't have a lot of time. The phone is a privilege they shut off at night and whenever they feel like it. It could go dead at any minute. Will you please tell me what she said?”
“I'm telling you. It jumped between a sales pitch and outright craziness. Here, you'll love this. We can fight the creature, hold it at bay, by whipping it with the tail of a manta ray. Have you got one of those in your back pocket?”
“You're forgetting where I am. I don't have a back pocket, or shoelaces, or a belt. Why is that crazy? It's a creature from the Philippine Islands. Rays are plentiful. If you believe there's a monster, it makes sense. Hey, there are rays in town!”
“Nestor, what are you talking about?”
“There is a manta ray and a stingray, right here in Duncan.”
“Hold on a second; I can barely hear you. The street's full of sirens.” Ben waited for the wails of engines, ambulances, and squads to pass. “Man, they're burning the town down. Okay. Anyway, you were saying? There's a manta ray? In northeast Iowa? Swimming around and breathing?”
“Yes, I'm telling you. There's one at—”
“And you want me to maim it?” Ben demanded, interrupting. “Probably kill it? By cutting off its tail? Because an old crone in a Philippine carnie shop wants to sell copper scraps and banana oil?”
“You said coconut oil before. Which is it?”
“It was coconut. And who gives a damn? This is all insanity.”
“Stop saying that! You weren't at The Castle. My wife and baby were killed by a monster from a Philippine nightmare. That nightmare is alive and feeding on… What, by the way? Did she tell you? Chesa's aunt? Did she tell you what this thing wants?”
“Well, that depends on which creature it is and which lust it has. Seems the island people spend all their free time dreaming up new monsters.”
“Quit fucking around!” Nestor screamed. “You sound like a whistle prick in paramedic school. Signs and symptoms, brother, what are the signs and symptoms? Take the evidence of your eyes and ears and combine them with the knowledge the old woman gave you.”
“That's what I'm telling you, Nestor. The old woman didn't give me anything. She's a shyster. She was trying to sell me some sort of demon hunter's kit.”
“That's what we wanted! Look, forget your disbelief. You knew going in we were dealing with the unbelievable. Her beliefs aren't yours, I get it. But assume what Poni gave you was fact. She wasn't an old biddy in a voodoo shop, she was a textbook. Take the signs and symptoms this case exhibits and hold them up to the light. Make a diagnosis.”
Why not, Ben thought. After the day he'd had, what was more wasted time? “The victims have been female,” he said, starting his list. “Most pregnant. Most with an abdominal puncture wound. The male victim had different wounds entirely. You saw a monster. Ruzicki claims he fought a monster. Several of the words Ruzicki shouted are the names of—” Ben hesitated, closed his eyes, comparing the real evidence to the old lady's goofy legends. “Pregnant women. Babies' souls. Aswang. Manananggal,” Ben whispered into the phone. “Pray to the virgin when the tik-tik sings.”
A heavy moment of silence hung between them.
“You've got to fill that list,
” Nestor said. “The oil, the ashes, a copper stake. You need to get a manta tail. For Angelina and the baby. For the promise you made Ruzicki. This evil has killed dozens, maybe hundreds, and will keep killing. We've got to stop it. We've got to find aswang and destroy it.”
It was lunacy, bat-shit crazy. Ben listened, politely, intending to fully ignore Nestor's rant. But the rant ended abruptly. On the other end of the line, someone barged in on Nestor. It took a moment to realize it was his nurse. In passing, she'd heard Nestor's agitation and now she politely but firmly told him the phone was being shut off. Then her voice was in Ben's ear, as firm but without the politeness, informing him he'd upset the patient and the call was done. The line went dead.
Ben stepped from the shower arguing with himself. What was he supposed to do with the mess he'd been handed? He'd promised Nestor he'd kill the monster. He promised Ruzicki he'd kill the monster. He didn't even believe in the goddamned monster. He couldn't wrap his mind around all the craziness, the bizarre deaths, the horrors visited upon Nestor and his family, the wrecking ball of stress hanging over his relationship with Erin, the fairy tale spun by Ruzicki, the wacky old lady at the Whatnot shop, let alone a Philippine demon. How could he sort the mess? How was he supposed to fulfill his ridiculous promises? What else could go wrong? Before he had time to regret the questions, his doorbell rang.
He pulled his pants on, and still drying his hair, opened the door to find Forester on the other side. “Oh,” the reporter exclaimed. “You are here. I'm surprised.”
“Why? I live here.”
“I know but I thought you'd be at the fire.”
“My day off. They can put out a few without me.”
“That's what you think. They're burning another one to the ground as we speak.”
“Yeah?” Ben asked, pulling on a shirt. “What now?”
“A store over in Little Manila.”
“Little Manila?”
“The Philippine part of town.”
Ben stared. “Does everybody know about that but me?”
When The Tik-Tik Sings Page 16