“Who is that you were speaking to?” Socorra’s grandfather demanded. “Your father would be angry to see you speak with strangers. Our servants are better dressed than they.”
I heard Addie’s intake of breath. “Who is he speaking of? Does he mean us, Pedro?” she asked, her voice caught between anger and tears.
“That old swayback had better watch his mouth. It is a good thing he is an old man,” Pidring said.
I was too angry to move. I was going to speak to the man, and throw manners to the wayside, when to my surprise Socorra bristled at her grandfather’s orders.
“Those are friends of mine, Lolo. Why must you and Father constantly order me about?” She spun on her high heels and motioned to us with her hand. “Hey, come sit with us. What are you waiting for?”
Pidring and I looked behind us. We could not believe she was calling to us.
Addie tugged at my hand. “Pedro, I do not like these people. She is only trying to anger her grandfather. She may try to embarrass us.”
My eyes swallowed the lush blankets, the coconut drinks, slices of mango, guava, pandesal, and cheese. The sight of a plate of palabok made me wet my lips. I could almost taste the thick clear noodles with egg, green onions, and shredded orange-colored spices. Their clothes, the smell of their perfume, the cream-colored gloves her sisters wore, held me spellbound. I pulled Addie forward, and Pidring followed.
The Villanuevas looked up at us, Socorra with one brow raised in amusement. She pulled out a long cigarette stem, placed a cigarette at its end, and lighted it with the snap of a slim gold lighter. “Well? Sit,” she ordered impatiently.
I positioned myself across from her, then helped Addie to a seated position. There was no place for Pidring, except a small patch of blanket next to the old man. Pidring expected the grandfather to make room, but the man simply glared at him.
“This is my sister, Addie,” I announced.
“Hello,” Addie mumbled, holding out her hand. For a long moment no one moved, then Socorra took the hand and shook it limply.
“I thought you knew these people, ha?” the grandfather grumbled.
“There is plenty of room here on my side, ladies,” I said to the sisters, patting an empty space to be courteous.
They laughed to one another and shook their heads.
Socorra studied me. “What are you doing here?”
“Ay, tamà na ha. Ikáw ang nag imbita, imbita,” the grandfather said with disgust. Oh, stop it. You are the one who invited them.
“You should just say yes now, Lolo.” Socorra smiled. “Ask Papa to buy me the car and I will tell these people to go. I always win in the end.”
“Okay, darling, you win.” The grandfather chuckled. “Now tell these people to go. I am sure they have other friends to visit.”
I felt my heart drop. Pidring got up and dusted his pants. He reached out a hand to Addie.
“Yes, you are dismissed,” Socorra said sweetly, and her sisters patted her as though it were such a good joke.
“Thank you, folks,” I said, getting up, which only caused them to laugh more.
“See, kuya,” Addie whispered, grabbing my hand, “I told you what kind of people they are.”
My eyes were locked on Socorra. I coveted her wealth, the power she exuded. I wanted that for myself. I saw how the other families looked their way, how the other girls mimicked Socorra and her sisters. I would never stand a chance with a girl like her. Socorra continued to smoke her cigarette, already dismissing us from her thoughts. The image of that fine cigarette burned in my chest as we walked away.
“You know the Villanuevas?” a young woman with braided hair asked from a nearby headstone.
“They are good friends of ours.” Pidring puffed up his chest.
She gave a crooked smile as she looked over toward the Villanueva blankets, particularly at Socorra. “That family is like hollow fruit. Very sweet looking on the outside, but on the inside, the ants and worms have eaten through the good portion. There is much hate and jealousy among the sisters.”
I looked to check the accuracy of her statement, and to my surprise, the sisters were each facing in a different direction.
“That one in particular”—the girl gestured with her chin to Socorra—“is the worst.”
“I did not like them,” Addie announced, feeling more comfortable with our new friends.
A PALE MOON was rising and gray clouds floated thinly before it. The white trumpet lilies had begun to close, but their fragrance drifted all around us.
“It is past twilight time,” Pidring announced. “We should be home. You know what the old people say.”
It was his tone that caught everyone’s attention. Several people had come to share our blanket space, including a young man with a cane and a bad temper who knew the answer to everything.
“That is foolish talk,” the bad-tempered Augustino snorted.
Pidring pursed his lips. “Do you know why the asuwángs favor this area and not the city?”
“Because witches like to eat beautiful young women?” Augustino smirked, leaning on his cane. “So that when you tell the story the women will grab for your hand?”
“Because of the lack of telephone lines.” Pidring clenched his teeth and pointed out toward the space between the trees. “The witches can fly at night and flap their wings unhindered.” He shrugged. “But if you do not believe, what is the use in continuing this?”
I took Addie’s hand. “We must go. I think this way is the safest.” I pointed to a route Pidring and I had prepared the prior day. “Thank you, everyone, for the company.”
“Wait!” the girls shouted in unison. “We shall walk out with you. Let us finish packing our things.”
We waited beside them, and I began to speak to Pidring in a loud manner.
“We will be fine. There is no need for concern. The asuwángs hunt for the pregnant women first, you know. They fly over the houses very late at night. If you are awake, you can hear them flap their wings. They land on the houses and dig for a crack in the ceilings. If there are none, they make a hole with their long fingernails right above the pregnant woman’s bed. Then slowly they trickle a string of saliva down to the woman’s mouth, and from then on, the woman becomes paralyzed and the baby is eaten in that way.”
“What a horrid way to die,” one of the girls exclaimed, snapping the blankets in the air to throw off the crumbs.
“What about when the asuwángs crawl beneath the houses?” Pidring shook his head.
“What happens then?” Augustino taunted.
“Oh, it is horrible,” I said. “When the roofs of the houses are guarded with holy objects such as crucifixes and statues of saints blessed in holy water, then the asuwángs search for a way to get below the house. And if your house is raised on stilts, well then, all the easier.”
“What do you mean?” asked the girl with braids.
“Well, have you ever heard the wild boars that root beneath the houses sometimes? Those are not wild boars. They are vampire-witches in their animal form. They root below the houses looking for a hole to pull the pregnant mother through.”
The women screamed and giggled in fear. We now had a tight circle, and Pidring and I were in heaven.
“How do you kill such a thing?” the girl whispered.
“That is easy,” Augustino interrupted before Pidring could continue. Really, the urge to box his ear and steal his cane was incredible. Pidring and I waited for his explanation.
Augustino’s expression was smug. “All that is needed is garlic and holy water.”
“And?” Pidring asked.
“One need only throw either at the creatures,” Augustino finished, looking off to the dark. A cold wind was threading its way through the warmth, and we pulled our coats closer to our bodies.
Pidring choked, “That is the most ridiculous explanation I have ever heard.”
I laughed. “Be kind, Pidring. He has not seen the things we have.”
&n
bsp; “Well, genius, for that is your name, is it not?” Pidring asked Augustino. “Are you ready to hear how to truly kill these creatures?”
Augustino shrugged. “What is your explanation?”
Addie surprised us by speaking. Her voice was soft, and it pierced the darkness with the strangest pitch. I shivered as I held her hand. “These asuwángs are normal humans by day. They have the power to walk among us, and to mark who will be their victims after twilight time. The time when the moon begins to rise and the goodness of the sun begins to fade.
“When night approaches, they begin to howl and scream as wings sprout from their backs. Their hands grow into claws, and their vampire fangs come out. They detach themselves from the waist down, leaving their human legs standing behind. They can be killed in this demon form if someone were to find their lower half and place holy water or garlic on it. When daylight comes they cannot attach to their human form, and they burn.”
The families were packing their belongings to leave. The graveyard had grown very dark. The wind howled high in the trees. Soon a pack of dogs echoed the cry throughout the village. We laughed bravely, walking as one body toward the back of the cemetery. Our eyes shifted steadily to the rustling of a tree or the squawking of a bird.
“Pidring, is this the way?” I asked. The majestic mango tree I had remembered as a guidepost was obscured by the clouds floating rapidly before the moon.
“Pedro, do not joke,” Addie whispered.
Then came the sound of footsteps behind us, light, rustling the leaves, as if they floated, barely grazing the ground.
“Who is there? Would you like to join us?” Addie’s voice broke as we stopped to listen.
“Join us or we will leave you behind,” Augustino shouted, brandishing his cane.
No one showed themselves, and we turned to move ahead.
“Can I join you?” a woman’s voice asked.
Everyone shouted.
“It is only me, Socorra.” Her childlike voice sounded strange in the dark. She stepped closer, her face pale and smiling.
I put my hand to my chest. “Of course,” I said. “Pidring, will you hold Addie’s hand?”
“I can watch myself.” Addie wrenched her hand from my grasp. “She is probably here to anger her grandfather again and extort more money from him,” Addie muttered.
Socorra’s face burned red at how close to the mark Addie’s words hit, but for some strange reason, her being caught in her manipulation of the grumpy old man did not bother me. He probably deserves it, I thought.
We neared a solitary house at the edge of the woods.
“I thought that house was abandoned,” Augustino breathed, his voice raw.
Socorra reached for my hand, and I jumped at the warmth of it. I peered at her. She was so tiny that I felt the urge to protect her; from what, I did not know.
“The basement door is open,” Pidring whispered, breaking away from our group.
“Pidring, wait!” I shouted, but too late. Pidring disappeared into the dilapidated house. The front door had long ago blown away. It was a large, imposing house, beautiful surely in its day. There was a melancholy look to how the thick vines had overgrown the house, enveloping it. A snake consuming its prey. There was a faint light at the topmost room.
“Let us go,” Addie urged. “Call Pidring and let us go.”
“Yes.” Augustino hid behind practicality. “What if there are thieves in that house? They may hurt your friend.”
“I shall get him.” I stepped forward, but before I could move, we heard the distinct sound of an infant crying. Pidring shot out of the basement, holding a small white bundle.
“There are hundreds of babies in there.” He held the writhing form in his arms. “We must get help.”
The women were crying now and wringing their hands. Augustino was at the head of our group, his feet pointed opposite the house.
“We must go in,” I urged.
Within seconds the basement door burst open. “There it is!” Pidring shouted. A large winged creature shot forward, with long matted hair and a ragged, bloody gown. That was the last nut to tip the basket. The women took off running, shrieks rented the sanctity of the evening, and Augustino was truly a sight. Never had I seen a man make such good use of a cane.
We watched them go. Pidring and I were in tears, and laughter shook our bodies so badly, I lost my balance several times and fell forward. I looked up at the wigged and winged sewing bust. Its white gown swayed eerily in the wind. At my suggestion we had dressed and strung the creature on fishing lines the previous evening.
“We had better get that sewing torso down before my mother notices it missing. Or she will turn into something more frightening,” Pidring snickered. He reached on tiptoes with one hand to grab the swaying gown.
“I feel bad,” Addie said. “I liked those girls. Pidring, what is it you have in your arms that is making that ungodly noise?”
Pidring pulled the end of the small blanket. A white cat jumped to the ground, hissing, then leaped into the dark. “The damned thing has torn half my arm. Ahh, but it was worth it.”
“Perfection.” I clapped hands with Pidring.
“You had better go in and blow out that candle before we burn the house,” Pidring instructed.
I turned toward the house, and suddenly my hands went cold. I could see the ghost of the previous owner hovering angrily near the window at our intrusion. I had seen him yesterday as well, when we first entered the house, but I had swallowed my hesitation and walked right through him. He had a right to be in that house. Of course, Addie immediately noticed something was bothering me.
“What is it, kuya? Do you see somthing?”
“Huh? Oh no, it is nothing. Let me blow out the light before—” I had not even finished my sentence when the light of the candle went out.
“Oh, better yet. It has burnt itself out,” Pidring said.
Addie gasped. “It shut itself out?”
I swallowed hard. Some spirits were very strong and could be violent. Those were the ones I needed to consult my mentor, Diagos, about, but his forest was a long way from this place. I wondered if his powers reached this far. Probably he would be disappointed with my pranks. He did not like the spirits to be bothered.
“Let us be on our way,” I urged.
“Ay, I have forgotten my coat, Ped.” Pidring chuckled. “One moment,” he called over his shoulder, already running back into the house.
I looked up at the window. I was the only one who could see the energy, like fire licking at the window frame.
“Wait, Pidring. I will come with you. Addie, stay here,” I instructed.
When I reached the top of the steps, Pidring was frozen with his back to me. “Ped …” His voice was strained. “I cannot move.”
There was a single chair in the room, and it teetered left to right, then tumbled. I could feel the bad energy trying to suffocate us.
“Speak to me,” I announced to the room.
“I cannot,” Pidring choked. His eyes were large, near tears. He was trying to hold on to his disbelief and not give in to the terror that threatened any minute to swallow him.
The table shook and slammed from side to side.
“This is my house!” The spirit appeared, engulfed in red. He was standing before Pidring with his hands tight around Pidring’s neck.
“We meant no harm.”
“What will you do? Ask me to leave my own house? No one living claims these walls. It was mine before I passed.” The spirit’s appearance had changed. It did not have the older face it had shown in the window; it was younger, consumed in fire. I had seen its kind before, the ones destined to damnation but choosing to hide and disobey their guides. His presence filled the room with the smell of dead flowers.
The chair lifted and flew toward me. I stood in place, and it lost its momentum. The apparition frowned at me. “Who are you, favored one?”
I stepped forward and placed my hand on Pidring’s s
houlder. Immediately the spirit let go as if he had been scalded.
“Let us pass,” I ordered. It dared not touch Pidring as long as I held him.
The spirit howled with the wind. It berated us with profanity, and as we hurried out, it slammed the door behind us. Once outside, Pidring began to shake terribly.
“Are you hurt?” I asked. I could see his struggle. He was trying to stay composed.
“Do not speak of it.” Pidring glanced at me.
“But perhaps if you talked …”
Pidring held up a hand and shook his head.
THE NEXT EVENING, as I lay on my mat, my thoughts of Socorra were interrupted by my father. “Son, are you tired?”
I smiled at the question. “What is it, Pa?”
“Ah, are you awake? I am sorry to trouble you, but Aling Penelope has invited us to dinner at her home this evening. There is something she would like you to observe, and after, Mang Damasaw has requested us to pay a visit since we will be in that part of town.”
I sighed. “I was to go to a cockfight with Pidring tonight. Where does she live?”
“Just over the rise. We are not above a dinner invitation, are we, son?” my father joked.
“No, sir. When shall we leave?” I asked.
“Ah, well …” My father scratched his head in embarrassment, and I could see that he was already washed, with his hat in his hands.
“She is already expecting us?” I asked.
My father nodded.
~
ALING PENNY STARED at me for a long moment when she opened the door, and I could see that her eyes were watery. She held her hand to her chest. “Please come in, come in. Thank you for honoring my home, Mang Salvatore,” she said to my father.
My father removed his hat. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
“Do you sense something, Ped?” he asked. “This room, this room,” he muttered. He sometimes sensed things, but there was nothing in the room.
“Maybe, Pa,” I told him.
Dinner was served, and the servants placed two baskets of chicken and rice before us, and I sensed nothing. The chicken was piled too high, and a thigh tumbled to the table. I noticed with a start that the chicken floated silently back to its place, yet I could still not see anything.
When the Elephants Dance Page 33