I met Dave one night in a bar. Right after I graduated from elementary, I worked as an errand boy for Paradise Bar. I wanted to earn to be able to continue my schooling the coming year.

Dave was not one of the “ugly Americans” as others call them. (“Go home, Yankees!” I often hear the cry of protesters in the streets.)

According to the women in the bar, he looked like Mel Gibson – the actor in Braveheart. (I watched that movie several times with them, and I had to agree.)

When the other airmen were noisily drinking, he was just in one corner, silently sipping his beer. He was also soft spoken and treated me kindly -unlike the other Americans. He always gave me a tip – not in coins but in paper- that was a lot for me.

Every night, he came to the bar, all by himself. The women would crowd around him and tried to talk to him, but in the end , he always preferred to be alone. One time when all the customers left and I was done gathering the empty bottles, he summoned me.

“What’s your name?” he smiled.

“Pepe” I answered.

“Where do you live?”

“Gueco Street.”

“Do you want to work for me?”

I was surprised, “What work?”

” A yard boy and someone to clean my house once a week,” he continued smiling at me. “Lighter work, and more pay”

” Yes, ” I nodded eagerly.

” You can start tomorrow.”

I started working for Dave. He lived alone in a three – room apartment near their Military Base. I learned that he was a pilot – an officer – he had a “wing” symbol on his military uniform. At times when I was done cleaning the yard, he would talk to me about his family back in Wyoming. How he missed them. He said he had a younger brother my age. (Perhaps that was why he had helped me?)

He went less and less to the Paradise Bar as days went on. He allowed me to stay in the other room of his apartment. I went home during weekends to give money to “Nanay” (mother). I was earning more and I was able to save money too.

During evenings, we would barbecue at the backyard and just talk. He asked
me about my family and my plans. I told him about how I wanted to go to high school; that I was the eldest of 5 children and that my parents could not get good jobs because they were not able to go to college too.

I was not telling him this to ask for help. I was telling him because he was able to encourage me to talk and I didn’t usually open up that easily. I think we were alike because we didn’t talk openly about ourselves to other people.

One day when he came home;

” Myrna, this is Pepe, Pepe this is Myrna – my girlfriend.”

I was shocked. I stared at her face and saw a smirk. I did not like her but I shook her hand anyway.

” Sige na, iwanan mo kami,” (Go on, leave us alone) she said in the dialect, so I left them.

I could hear Myrna’s laughter echoing in the house.

“You don’t like her,” Dave said when she left.

I did not reply.

“You’ll like her when you’ll get to know her better.” he said and I nodded.

Everyday thereafter, Myrna came to the house even when Dave was not there. She ordered me around like she owned me. I am not new to this as bad people always do that to poor people like me.

“Pagkatapos mong gawin iyan, labhan mo ang damit ko!” (After you’re done with that, wash my clothes!) She would bark the order at me.

I had no choice but to obey, she was my boss’ girlfriend and I could see that Dave’s happiness was complete with her around.

One day. when Dave was at work, Myrna came. She had a man with her. They went straight to Dave’s room. I can hear her giggling.

“ Eto, puede na ba ito? ” (this one, is this okay?) She asked the man.

There was no reply and when they came out, she was carrying Dave’s big camera in one hand.

“Ate,” I asked ” Saan po ninyo dadalhin iyan?” (Where will you bring that?)

“Wala ka na doon”, (It’s none of your business) she pouted at me.

I could not do anything when she walked past me. When evening came, Dave arrived and I waited for him to ask about the camera but he said nothing , so I presumed that everything was well.

During the days that followed however, I noticed that Myrna no longer came to the house. Dave went back to his usual silent moods. I tried to talk to him but he answered in monosyllables.

“If it’s about the camera, ..” I started.

“No, don’t worry about that,” he replied, and that was that.

He did not want to talk about Myrna and I did not dare ask. By then I knew that when Dave wanted me to know, he would tell me. As days passed, his mood improved.

We went back to cooking barbecue and talking about his experiences: how he had slipped into a pond because he was rushing to school; how he and his brother enjoyed their first rodeo and many others. These was all new to me so I listened with awe.

When it was my turn, I went on to talk too about how I enjoyed reading so much and my interest in poetry and writing. He gave me a box of pocketbooks to read the following day, “here, they are all yours.” he said.

Several months later, I had saved enough money for enrollment but not enough to buy my school materials. That was good enough for me though, the rest can be remedied, I was sure.

It was after several months that Olive came into our lives. Unlike Myrna, I liked Olive immediately. She treated me like Dave did. Her kindness was from the heart, because even when no one was around she treated me like a younger brother. I came to know that she worked as a nurse in the Base hospital.

I can see that Dave was happier with Olive than with Myrna. They were so in love. I was not surprised when they told me they were getting married that coming June. I was happy for them! They assured me, I can stay with them for as long as I wanted.

But that was not what happened. Fate had more surprises for me – the following June, Mount Pinatubo erupted. Tons of ashes rained and all US bases (Subic and Clark) were abandoned by fleeing US soldiers.

I was home helping my parents take shelter when the order for the evacuation of the US bases was given. I knew Dave would be looking for me. I braved the ashfall and rushed to Dave’s apartment… but he was gone. Olive was there, packing things in boxes.

“Nasaan siya?”(Where is he?) I asked her.

“Umalis na siya” (He’s gone), she said with tears in her eyes.

I can’t help but cry too. Dave was gone! I couldn’t believe it. I had thought we would be together for long.

“Will you be okay?” I asked her , knowing she was feeling the same way, even much more perhaps.

“He promised to keep in touch,” she assured me. “He left something for you.”
She gave me a camera and an envelope… the camera ?

“It is brand new,” Olive said when she saw the question on my face. ” He knew about the first camera. It was Myrna. ” she continued.

I opened the envelope. There was green money – enough for me to pursue my ambition of going back to school. I cried all the more, thinking how generous he was. You can always count on him – my Boss Dave – NO – my friend Dave!

One important lesson I have learned is that, no matter what race one belongs to, there will always be the bad and the good!
Photo 1 by echoforsberg
Photo 2 by Bob Jagendorf

Left!

Right!

Left!

Right!

I commanded my bare feet to keep running.

My footsteps echoed ominously in the deserted, asphalted street. Rivulets of sweat were trickling down my grimy face; down my eyes, marring my vision.

Just one more corner and I’ll be safe. Please God, if you’re really out there, just this once, help me!

“Over here,” an angry voice startled me. I could hear their footsteps closing in, from the distance.

I made one, last turn and there it was – my sanctuary! I lifted the small window, wiggled my way through the small opening, and tumbled unceremoniously down the cold, damp floor below.

My sore muscles groaned as I rolled over to cushion the impact of my fall. I tried to catch my breath as I lay down there winded.

Just then, a voice above me thundered, “Where has he gone?”

“Go on, down the street, he might manage to escape.”

There was a shuffle.

“Wait, there’s an opened window here…”

I cringed as his voice came from the small opening where I had slipped in minutes ago.

” I can’t see a thing, do you have a light?’

“Here,” I heard the second man speak in a guttural voice.

I held my breath and waited for the moment of discovery.

There was a tiny flicker of light above me. My teeth were chattering so badly, I was afraid they could hear it.

“How am I supposed to see with a lighter?’ the first man was definitely irked.

“Hey, come on, he couldn’t possibly slip in there, it’s too dark and high. Can’t you hear the rats scampering? He would be screaming in pain and fright right now, if he did.”

I kept still with my head resting on the concrete, damp floor. I willed my body to stop trembling. The rats skittered around in confusion, disturbed by my intrusion.

“We have to be sure! These pesky snatchers should be given a lesson.”

The man attempted to bring the lighter farther down the window, but it was extinguished before he could do so.

The man cursed and stomped his feet in frustration. “If I see that wee shite – I’m going to waste him.”

“I don’t think he’s down there, c’mon,” the younger voice called out.

These men were out to grind me into tiny morsels of useless meat, ready to cook and be gobbled up for their party.

There was a grunt as the second man finally stood up, and I could hear the sound of their running footsteps fading away in the stillness of the night.

I slumped in relief and would have laughed out loud if I had the strength, but I was like a deflated balloon.

I remained supine for a few minutes and basked in the feeling of freedom.

I should thank my “rat friends”. They were as unruly as ever. They never bit me though; perhaps they recognized me by my smell. We share the same stink I believe, there was no water to be able to take a daily bath.

But I have an advantage over them; I took long luxurious baths in Armando’s bath tub, whenever I came up with a “find” (our code word for stolen goods), while they wallowed in this dilapidated room, day in and day out.

Armando was our big boss. We all reported to him whenever we had a “find”.

“Use your eyes, ” he would goad us. “There are many out there. Be sure you won’t get caught!”

Sometimes, when one of us got unlucky, Armando would be in the police precinct in a jiffy. They called him “cap” in that police station and saluted him. I wonder why they did as he had never worn a police uniform.

Almost always they released whoever was caught; after Armando had a drinking spree with them.

My friends and I were scared of Armando because he was enormous and had an ugly, angry scar on his right cheek. The oldest of our group was 12, but he never challenged Armando. We all knew he was our savior! He provided us a roof over our heads and food when we didn’t have any “find.” I was the youngest of the lot at 9 and I was also the skinniest but the most voracious.

I don’t know why my small stomach needed so much food, I was always hungry. Whenever I asked an additional piece of bread from Armando he would snap at me; “Sell more plastic bags and get your “find”. When you do, you can eat up to your heart’s content.”

I chose my clients very well. Those overly-dressed people who scorned at me and cursed me; “Get away from me you stinking rat,” and I was just asking for some spare change to buy food.

I had sold only five plastic bags today and what I earned, could only buy me a piece of candy. I and my friends would sniff “rugby” to forget our hunger pangs. People used rugby as a glue but we utilized it as a drug. We would pour small portions of it in a plastic bag and inhale it until we felt numb and no longer feel our stomachs growling.

It was during times like these, that mother’s memories assailed me: “Always remember the Golden Rule,” she had said and although I was skeptical of it, I tried hard to observe this tenet. It was harder to believe in it when mother passed away.

The pain of my loss had grown hazy now, just a dull gnawing stab of nostalgia whenever I recall my moments with her.

Mother died when a speeding truck hit her in the middle of the road. The heartless driver did not even bother to stop. Father died a month later, some helpful neighbors had helped me out with his burial.

The owner of the shack we were renting had asked me to vacate the place, right after I came from the cemetery. I pleaded with him to feed me and provide lodging and I would be his humble and loyal servant but, “I don’t trust you a bit, go find somewhere else to stay,” he snarled at me.

My neighbors were in the same miserable, indigent state as I was, so there was no help for food and lodging from that corner. Their shanties were not enough to house their own big families – much more to feed them.

So I sold whatever belongings were left and came up with a small amount to buy food for several days until it was gone, pffft…nada… and I was forced to join the street children.

Now my body has grown warmer. I would have to stay for the night here. Those men would still be scouring the streets.

I moved to the farthest corner of the room where I cannot be seen from the window and rested my head on a box.

Slowly I opened my hand to reveal the gleaming bracelet. It was an 18 carat gold! Armando would be proud of me!

Tomorrow, I will have a luxurious, warm bath in his tub and will be clean shaven.

Buying a new pair of slippers is a wonderful idea too, and clothes to match.

I’m certain no one would recognize me in my spanking new haircut, grease-free face, and respectable appearance.

I really look forward to tomorrow!

And by the way, my name is Miguelito!

Photo 1 by René Ehrhardt

This is reposted from an article published last January.
( I am thinking of expanding it to a novelette).

“Yes,“ she said, and their hungry lips met to seal their undying love for each other.

What a wonderful love story!

I closed the book and stared dreamily at its cover. There were two figures blissfully entwined in a tight embrace.

Alas! I sighed. Real life stories usually do not have “happily-ever-after” endings. Broken families around me were enough proof of that. I would rather fantasize about my “knight –in shining armor” through the novels that I read than be part of the drama in real life.

July 01, 2000:

Life is one big irony; however, for on this day, I said goodbye to being single. I understood then what lovers meant when they said that “Smoke gets in your eyes” or that “Love is blind.” Indeed, I was so madly and deeply in love with Jayson, that I opted to be “blind” to the uncertainties of the future and was willing to “cross the seven seas” for him. So on this glorious day, we exchanged marriage vows and it was the start of a new life for me.

August 23, 2004:

God had blessed us with two bubbly kids: a boy and a girl. They had their father’s chinky eyes, thick eyebrows, obstinate nose; each complemented all the other facial features to almost perfection. I was thankful they got nothing from my plain looks.

As I had forseen, married life was a bed of roses – with countless thorns. It entailed lots of sacrifices: I was expected to do all the countless household chores even if I had an 8 to 5 daytime job: in the office –piles of paperwork , screaming deadlines, tumultuous meetings; then when I went home – smelly diapers, baby tantrums, sleepless nights and many more. There were also times that I would have to tolerate my husband’s behavior. When he came home from a drinking spree with his comrades in uniform, I would patiently sponge his body with lukewarm water. These were all the sprinkles of salt that had made my married life more meaningful. I had no complaints because I knew these were all part of the package.

June 03, 2006:

Life though had so much more in store for me, for on this fateful day, I sat staring dazedly at the phone. I tried to control the spasms of sobs that rose to my throat. We had three kids by then and they were joyously romping with their father in the backyard. I thought my Calvary was over when Jayson was acquitted from a “robbery case” and was eventually reinstated in the military service a year before, but how wrong I was! Here was another tempest about to wreak havoc in my family.

“Jayson told me that we’ll be together soon,” she had purred into the phone. “A few more years perhaps, until your youngest is of an age to understand.”

I believed her then, for she had known a secret which I had always thought, only I and Jayson knew about.

I did not have enough courage to confront Jayson. What I knew was that I still loved him with the same intensity, after all the years that had passed. Did he still love me? I wanted to ask him then but whenever I started to do so, my eyes would brim with tears and a lump in my throat would choke my words. So, whenever he caught me teary-eyed, I made plausible excuses.

“We are on red alert. I won’t be coming home tonight, please go to sleep early,” he would say, during the nights he was not able to come home.
I convinced myself that he was telling the truth, but now and then I would catch a whiff of a woman’s perfume on his shirt.

The kids were unaware of my Calvary, however. They adored their father and he loved them in return, that I wallowed alone in my misery. I consoled myself by reading the Holy Bible. “Love beareth all things…”

September 18, 2006:

During the past two years, my heart became numb with pain from the constant calls of his mistress. I suffered in silence, ignoring his late –nights out, his missing shirts, and the indications of his infidelity. My love for him and our children was greater than my pain. You may call me a fool, but the happiness of my children was foremost in my mind.

But that day, the woman called, “We will be starting a business, do you want to be our guest?”

A nerve snapped in my head and that did it! I had had enough of this BS!

When he came home that night, I confronted him and had hoped to high heavens, that he would deny my accusations, but all I got was the silence of acceptance. I pounced at him when he attempted to take me in his arms and snarled vicious words at him in my anger.

That night after the kids slept, I slept in a different room for the first time. I prayed so hard for divine guidance. God help me to be strong!
When morning came, Jayson acted as if nothing happened and I joined his charade in front of the children.

December 24, 2007:

My husband urged our youngest son to light the Christmas candle. We all cheered when it exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Happy new year!” Jayson kissed and hugged me tightly.

Our children trooped to kiss and hug us both.

I gazed happily at the family that I had fought tooth and nails to keep whole. I thank my lucky stars my love for them was great enough to weather the storms that had crossed our path. I thank God for making me realize that the painful events that occurred were just some of the crosses I have to carry stoically, for they will all come to pass.

It was difficult at first to forgive Jayson when he had pleaded for forgiveness. He realized that he had to choose between his family and his mistress and that he could not have both.

We had moved to another town to start anew , and it was all worth it. The woman attempted to call Jayson several times through his cell phone, but he ignored it. He decided to change his number when it was evident, she would not stop. She was an ardent pursuer –that woman! Any man could fall into her claws just because of her persistence. I thank God, we were able to evade her venomous reach.

Happily- ever- after endings do happen in real life. It takes TRUE LOVE, understanding, and forgiveness to be able to achieve it.

I’m happily snuggled up with my husband right now, as I write the draft of this story. He’s contentedly watching our children opening their gifts.

Indeed true love was meant to last FOREVER!

I would like to acknowledge the efforts of Jean Knill of Jean’s Musings for this story. Thanks Jean.
Photo 1 by victoriapeckham
Photo 2 by Peter Giger
Photo 3 by notsogoodphotography

“Our cotoletta alla petroniana is the best in this region, sir.”

“Okay, give me that and one lasagna.”

“And hurry up.”

***************************************************************

“You can’t just leave sir,” Andy pleaded.

“Well, I can’t spend my time waiting for food that takes so long to prepare. “

“But sir, the food will be served shortly.”

“You didn’t tell me it takes that long to prepare this…whatever you call it,”
the man was sputtering in indignation.

“Sir, we can’t withdraw the orders, they’re cooked already.”

****************************************************************

“You will have to pay for the food,” the head waiter scowled at him. “They were your customers.”

“Can’t I have it deducted next month?”

“It is already in-voiced; you’ll have to pay for the entire amount today.” The voice was stern, almost unfeeling.

“But…”

“That’s the rule, take it or leave it!”

*******************************************************

He had to borrow money to pay the $ 240.00 for the lasagna and cotoletta alla petroniana. He brought the food home and gave some to his vagrant friends and ate some himself. His back was aching like hell but he still got one more job to go to.

“Good evening sir, welcome to Giogatto’s,” he led the group to a nearby table.

“Honey, I don’t know what to eat, ” the woman crooned to the man.

“Let’s see the menu.”

He kept his peace. He learned a lesson well.

“What about this, two Pezzetti di cavallo and one Baccala alla vicentina. “

“Wine, sir?”

“Yes, 2 Vino Nobile Montepulciano.”

“Would that be all sir?”

“Yes, for God’s sake, stop hovering over us! “

*********************************************************

“Andiyan na ang pasalubong!” (The packages have arrived!) Tina was shouting with so much joy in her tiny frame.

“Ang daming padala ni kuya Andy!” (Andy has sent us so many gifts)

“This is for you Tina,” a big, talking and walking doll.

“This one’s for you Joy.” It was the latest cell phone model.

“And these are for me and your papa.” Celia was excitedly displaying her new, dark blue coat.

Dozens of grocery and household items were closely packed in the remaining space of the balikbayan’s package. (packages coming from relatives abroad) And an airmail envelope was on the table top with a thick bundle of cash in it.

“Kuya Andy has made it big in Italy! ” Celia was brimming all over with motherly pride and joy. “He works as a nurse in one of the big hospitals.” She intoned to the neighbors who were watching curiously from the dilapidated windows.

*************************************************************

Andy finally laid down his fatigued body on the hard mattress. He has to work three jobs in a day to be able to send money home. He did not want to disappoint his parents. They had spent so much in his nursing education that he wanted them to be comfortable now that he can work. There were immigration procedures that he had to accomplish first, though before he could work as a nurse.

He lied to them about his job. It was the first time he had lied. It would be embarrassing to let them know the truth. He turned and stared at the ceiling.

Come to think of it, what was embarrassing about working honestly for a living? He should be proud of it! He has to tell the truth to his family in his next letter: that in the three diners he was working for, he was “The Waiter”.

This has been published at Helium.com

Photo by: gapysphoto

“I’m sorry, “Adrian gingerly helped her get up. “Are you okay? I didn’t see you coming.”

The woman said nothing. “C’mon, I’ll …” The woman turned, and Adrian stared at the wrinkled, ugliest face he had ever seen.

He almost dropped her arm, but he regained his composure and continued to help the old, ugly woman to her feet.

“Are you okay?” Adrian repeated the question, but she just nodded, and without a backward glance left him gaping at her departing figure.

“Wait,” he called out to her, but the woman limped onwards not bothering to look back.

What was that? Adrian thought. The old woman seemed to be aloof, or was she scared? Who was she? Perhaps she was one of the natives who opted to live in the forest?

He remembered the words of the caretaker at the hacienda. “Don’t stay late in the forest. Strange things happen at night.” But this is high noon! He shrugged his misgivings and continued his ascent toward the peak.

The sight from up there was something he had never imagined. It was a taste of heaven! The air was nifty and fresh, peace and calm reigned. There were white fluffy clouds drifting by like white marshmallows, etched in the clear, afternoon sky. He wanted to reach out and stuff them into his mouth.

At the foot of the mountain, the village was dotted with miniature houses. There was a river that snaked its way around it, enclosing the small nipa huts in a tight cluster. Towering mountains stood all around it like silent sentinels.

He turned around and tried to locate the town where he had come from, but the sight was only of smog rising up in the air from the flat lowlands. He was between two totally different worlds. At The other side of the mountain was the town, polluted, civilized and modernized, and at the opposite side, the pristine, unadulterated village. Perhaps one day, he would have enough time to visit the village below.

The melodious chirping of birds brought him back to reality. He settled himself in the lush, matted moss opening his packed lunch to devour his food as nature watched over him. He basked in the marvelous, invigorating environment. How he wished he could stay there forever. This was his idea of peace and quiet. He needed these rare, serene moments as his job had been demanding much from him lately, and he had bouts of insomnia during the night which was work-related.

He sat there quietly assimilating everything into his burnt out system. It was so “silent” he knew that if he shouted, this would reverberate across the mountain ranges. He closed his eyes and listened to the calming sounds of nature; the hum of the cicadas, the whisper of the wind, the chirping of birds and the murmur of distant brooks. He was in this state, when he heard an audible, chopping sound. His ears prickled and he listened closely.

“Chop, chop, chop…” there it was, resounding in the stillness of the forest.

He stood up and cautiously approached the origin of the sound. “Chop, chop chop.”

He came upon a clearing and to his surprise, he saw the old woman he had met earlier. She was painstakingly cutting up a big chunk of log into smaller sizes. Her back was bent at a dangerous angle, like it would break any moment. She seemed to be laboring under the weight of the ax.

Her abode was a small run- down house that had a big wooden door adorned with strange things: a deer antler, an apparent animal skin, and a roughly hewn digging tool. Piles of firewood were stacked on both sides of the entrance.

Adrian’s helpful nature responded to the situation. He approached the old woman who seemed not to be surprised to see him there. She continued with her laborious chore.

“Let me help you, “he offered.

The woman cast him a strange glance and went back to her task.

Adrian ventured closer, “I can do that for you…” he said uncertainly.

The woman stopped for the second time and studied him closely.

Without a word, Adrian got the ax from her. His sinewy arms rippled as he swang the hatchet repeatedly to divide the big log into pieces of firewood. This was a better exercise than lifting weights, he chuckled.

It felt good to be able to help someone again.

When the log had been neatly cut into small pieces and stacked below the hearth, he viewed his work contentedly.

“Here, have some water,” the old woman spoke at last, her hoarse voice quivered.

“Thank you.” Adrian drank thirstily from the plastic cup.

“Thanks for the help, but you have to go now,” she said.

Adrian was curious, “don’t you have anyone else here with you?”

She did not answer his question.

“Go now, before it gets dark,” she insisted, pushing him firmly out of the clearing.

Adrian left reluctantly. The old woman’s face became contorted and she was wildly motioning with her hands, urging him to leave.

He found it strange that an old woman would be living alone in the middle of the forest. Was this one of those Hansel and Gretel stories that he had read when he was a child? He enjoyed those bed time stories but he knew they were pure fiction. Witches and the supernatural just weren’t in his vocabulary.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he trekked back as the setting sun cast an orange hue in the approaching dusk.

The descent would take an hour at the most, he thought. As he was nearing the clear, bubbling stream which he had passed earlier, he heard singing.

The flowing, vibrant voice came from a woman seated in a gleaming stone. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Her toes were immersed in the water and she was playfully wiggling them.

He stood transfixed for some interminable minutes and then willed himself to move on.

But the woman noticed him, “Hello, are you new to this place?” He stopped in his tracks and looked back.

She had stood up and her flimsy, flowing clothing could not hide the voluptuous figure she had.

Adrian stared and became speechless, he nodded his assent.

“Come sit with me for a while, I need company.”

He could not take his eyes off her. Am I being hypnotized? Or being enchanted perhaps? What’s a beautiful woman doing in the forest alone? He asked himself.

He wanted to refuse but the woman pulled him closer and held his hand tenderly.

He went willingly. Vestiges of night shadows were beginning to take shape. The air seemed charged with numerous atoms that began to collide with each other.

As she sensuously caressed his hands, his pulses quickened and his spine tingled. When was the last time he had been with a woman? He couldn’t remember.

Just then, a piercing scream rang through the air. Adrian bolted up, like he was struck by lightning.

The scream echoed in the distance, he was almost certain it was the old woman! What was happening to her?

“That’s the old woman I met earlier. I have to see what’s wrong with her.” He blurted out and started to disengage himself.

The woman restrained him. “She’s just an old witch,” she said scornfully. “Stay here with me and I’ll make you happy.”

Another scream reverberated in the evening air.

Adrian firmly dislodged the woman’s creamy hand from his shoulders and ran. “I will have to see what’s wrong with her,” he insisted.

It was easier for him to go back to the old woman’s hut. It felt like he was going home. The old woman had her back to him and was staring at the distance. Adrian was at her side in an instant.

“What’s wrong?” He asked breathlessly.

The old woman turned and to Adrian’s utter amazement, her face transformed slowly into a lovely, young woman’s face. “You have a good heart that transcends the mundane. You have opted to help an ugly, old woman,” she said. ”And because of that, you have broken the evil spell. From now on, no one will die in these mountains, ever again.”

What’s this, the Lord of the Rings? Adrian thought. Am I imagining all of these things? He held back an urge to laugh.

“I met a young woman at the stream…” he said, wanting to know all the answers.

“She won’t bother anyone anymore with her deadly enchantments,” she smiled at him.

“Here take this as a reminder of the good you have done here.” She pressed something into Adrian’s hands.

“Hey, Adrian, wake up.”

Someone was shaking him not so gently. A bright light was shining directly into his face.

He sat up disoriented, and recognized his two friends hovering over him.

“Where is she? I was just talking to her,” he queried.

“Who?” Paul, the raconteur of the group asked, “the princess from far, far away?” and he laughed heartily.

“C’mon, you have fallen asleep. Who wouldn’t be? This environment is conducive to sleep,” Pete seconded. “You were dreaming, my friend.”

And together they helped him to his feet. “You were not answering your cell phone. We were worried. You’re lucky we found the man who saw you come up here.”

“But, I have seen this woman. I had talked to her, talked to them,” Adrian insisted.

“Hey, no one lives in this forest. Let’s get moving. It’s getting really dark. “

“Wait,” Adrian remembered what the woman pressed into his hands. He opened his palm and saw the tiny flash of light.

He scrutinized the object and noticed a tiny diamond winking at him beneath the dirty exterior. “Look,” he shouted jubilantly, “She gave me this.”

The three of them peered closely at what was obviously a diamond; caked with a little mud, but a diamond nevertheless.

“Why, yes, it’s a diamond,” Paul exclaimed. “Where’s this woman?”

Without replying, Adrian ran back towards the house in the forest, while the two were in hot pursuit. They arrived breathless at the clearing.

“Where is she?” Peter asked excitedly, “We’ll get rich.”

Adrian looked around him puzzled. The small house had been right there in the middle of the clearing. Now, there was only an enormous tree. There were fireflies on the tree making it appear like it was lighted with small incandescent bulbs.

“It was just here,” Adrian whispered. “She was right here.”

“Perhaps, this is not the right place.”

“No, this is the right place. I am certain.” Adrian stated positively.

Finally they decided it was futile to search for something that was apparently not there, so they hiked back to town cloaked in silence; each to his own thought.

Paul was thinking, “perhaps Adrian got a little mad, because of his insomnia? …But how could the diamond be explained?”

Peter was thinking, “We should trace where that diamond came from. Perhaps he just concocted that tall tale so that he would have an excuse not to reveal the source of the diamond? “

Adrian was thinking: “The two women were real. The diamond in his hand was proof. But would anyone believe him?”

**************************************************

Every year, Adrian went back to seek solace from that forest. He never came across the two women again. Whenever someone asked him to recount his “diamond story”, he would say, “a fairy gave it to me.” Everyone would laugh thinking it was a joke.

But to him nothing was more real than the two women he had encountered in the forest.

Photo 1 by Matt Phillips
Photo 2 by Fr Antunes