We round the corner, and I find the stall I’m looking for. It’s the stall selling fresh hito—slimy, slithering, and breathing catfish in a shallow tray of water. “Have you ever touched a hito?”
“No,” Claudine answers with a grimace. “I’ve never touched a live fish before.”
“Any fish?”
Claudine shrugs.
“Wow. You’ve lived all your life on an island, and yet you’ve never touched a live fish?” I shake my head. “Have you at least eaten a hito?”
“Duh.” Claudine rolls her eyes. “Fried hito is my favorite. It’s not just poor people food, you know.”
Seriously? Poor people food? This girl is so rude.
“Touch it,” I say.
“Touch what?”
“The hito.” I point to the tray of fish. “Just touch it with one little finger.”
“Why?”
“Think of it as your BFFAE initiation,” I explain. This is interesting. She didn’t blink an eye when I wished for her to buy me a blouse, but she’s hesitating to touch a fish. “It’s hard to be friends with somebody who’s never even touched a live fish.”
“What’s that have to do with being friends?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Just touch it,” I order. I invoke the magic of the arbularyo, let my power come coursing through my words.
Claudine touches the fish. “It’s slimy. And it’s … hmmm … it’s actually not so bad— Eek!”
The fish slithers away without warning, and Claudine accidentally touches all the other fish. This surprises the other fish, which in turn surprises more fish. Now all the fish are agitated.
In the commotion, the hito vendor arrives. “What’s going on? Why are the fish—”
“EEK!”
Claudine, the vendor, and I shriek as a hito jumps out of the tray and onto the ground. The fish tries to make its way to me but can’t as Kidlat blocks its path. Fast as lightning, my dog grabs the fish with his mouth.
“Good boy, Kidlat!” I say. Claudine cheers.
Kidlat drops the fish in front of me. He must have bit it too hard, because it’s no longer moving.
Oh no. My dog has broken the fish!
“I’m so sorry, ate,” I tell the vendor, bringing out my wallet. I only have one hundred pesos, which was supposed to last me a few more days. But the dead fish is my fault. “This is all I have—”
“I got this.” Claudine pushes my hand away. She gives the vendor five hundred pesos. “We’ll also buy some hito. It might be better if you pick the fish though.”
“I sure will,” the vendor snaps, but she takes Claudine’s money anyway and even selects the best fish for her.
Leave it to Claudine to fix everything with money. But I can’t complain—this is definitely better than getting into trouble.
Claudine skips as she carries her bag of hito. “That was fun! It’s the first time I’ve ever bought hito.”
It wasn’t supposed to be fun—not for her anyway. But since we’re here already, we go around the seafood market for a bit. By around four thirty, Claudine has bought clams, shrimp, mussels, and lato.
“What are you going to do with all that seafood?” I ask. I can think of so many ways to cook it. Boiled in soda and ginger. Sautéed in butter, garlic, and sugar. Baked with garlic, olive oil, and a huge amount of gooey melted cheese. I’d be able to do a lot of things with the seafood—if only I could afford it.
“Well, I plan to eat it,” Claudine says, grinning.
“Obviously.”
I meet her playful gaze and burst out laughing. Claudine joins me but ends up in a coughing fit. I thump her on the back, but the smile hasn’t left my face.
We’re eating taho—a soybean curd with tapioca balls and brown sugar syrup—by the docks while waiting for Claudine’s driver to pick us up. Claudine’s the one who paid for the taho, of course.
“We should do this again,” she says, downing the last of the tapioca balls in her cup.
I don’t answer immediately.
There were times during the afternoon when it wasn’t that painful being with Claudine. It’s usually when she’s not talking. But the moment she opens her mouth, Claudine says things that hurt me. I don’t even know if she’s aware of it. So I’m not sure if hanging out too often is a good idea.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t make the most of it.
“I’d like to, but I can’t,” I tell her. Maybe I can get a tad bit more out of this spell. “I need to help Dad at the carinderia. Lolo Sebyo helps with the customers, but he’s useless in the kitchen.”
“What about your mom?”
It’s exactly the question I’m waiting for.
“She’s not a regular employee yet at your resort, so she has to work overtime to earn enough money for our family. But that also means she can’t help out at the eatery, so I have to do it. Unless you could ask your mom to speed up Mom’s promotion?” I hold my breath.
Without hesitation, Claudine nods. “I got this.” She pats my hand. “I’ll make sure my BFFAE is well taken care of. Nothing is ever going to come between us.”
I can’t say I feel the same way. But if it means getting Mom promoted, then suffering through the irritating clinginess of this girl is well worth it.
School used to be a chore, but now I’m grateful for it. It’s the best excuse I can give Claudine to get her out of my hair.
Claudine kept bugging me about hanging out during the school week. Being homeschooled, it’s hard for her to understand why I just can’t go out whenever I feel like it.
But as her birthday drew near, it was harder to tell her off. She’s just too excited.
I tried to invoke the magic through a text message and a phone call. I can’t think my demands remotely either. As it turns out, invoking gayuma magic can only be done when I’m physically present around Claudine.
I understand that Lolo Sebyo’s gayuma book wouldn’t have anything about texting and phone calls, since it was published in the early 1900s. But it should have at least mentioned that thinking demands remotely doesn’t work either. The book is pretty much useless.
Needless to say, it’s been a long week.
Finally—thankfully—it’s Saturday.
“Okay, sweetheart, let’s try this again.” Mom takes me by the shoulders. “Remember—”
“Don’t talk unless Ms. Dimasalang asks a question. Be sure to keep Kidlat out of trouble.” I sigh. We’ve been through this four times already. “I know, Mom.”
Ever since I told her Kidlat and I were invited to Claudine’s party, Mom has been so happy. She’s always urging me to make friends in Isla Pag-Ibig. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about me missing a potions lesson, but she said it wouldn’t hurt to miss just one.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Mom’s concern is contagious. She’s oozing so much worry, and I’m absorbing it all like a kitchen sponge.
Honestly, my mother has nothing to worry about. Ms. Dimasalang probably won’t even notice I’m there. But I get it. It was very difficult for Mom to find a job on the island, and she felt lucky to land the one she did. The Dimasalangs’ resort, the Sampaguita Premiere Villas, is the biggest resort on Isla Pag-Ibig, and everyone wants to work there. I just hope Claudine follows through with getting Mom promoted from being a trainee to a regular employee.
Something wet and warm touches my hand—it’s Kidlat. He has already jumped out of our tricycle and is waiting for me. Seeing my dog instantly calms me down.
As long as Kidlat is with me, I’m going to be okay.
“Honey, she’ll be fine,” Dad says as he adjusts his cap. He kicks the pedal of the motorcycle attached to the tricycle. The engine roars to life. “J-Bee is a good kid. I’m sure your boss will like her.”
“You can come with me if you want,” I suggest. I don’t really like the idea of having my mom hang around an obviously for-kids party. But if it’s going to make her feel better, why not? “Cla
udine invited you too, you know.”
“Dad’s right. Again.” Mom rolls her eyes. She gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Nah. I don’t need to be there. Enjoy. Dad will pick you up after dinner. Oh, gosh. I’m so happy you’re finally making friends!”
“I will.” I’m trying to act calm for my mother, but I wish she’d have a little more faith in me.
As the Dimasalangs’ mansion looms above the tall, heavy gates, it dawns on me. My family and I might be happy we have one another, but one thing’s clear: We’re poor and the Dimasalangs are not.
“Good afternoon,” greets the Dimasalangs’ security guard. Yep, they have their own security guard. Whereas at our canteen, Kidlat is the nearest thing we have for security. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I think I see the guard’s jaw twitch at the sight of Lolo’s beat-up tricycle. “Miss Claudine is waiting for you inside.”
I tighten my grip on Kidlat’s leash as I wave goodbye to my parents.
“Just go straight up the path,” the guard says, pointing to a long driveway flanked by coconut trees and rows of blue flowers. It leads straight to a covered area in front of a modern mansion. Then the man goes back to the guardhouse by the gate.
I’m on my own.
Halfway up the driveway, Kidlat and I see a figure running toward us. Claudine.
“You’re here!” She throws her arms around my neck. “And you’re wearing the blouse I bought you! But you’re also late. I’ve been waiting all day.”
“But your invitation says two o’clock—”
“Never mind. You’re here, and that’s what matters.” Claudine beams. She leans down toward Kidlat.
“Wait! He’s not used to strangers—” But to my surprise, Kidlat allows Claudine to pat him. Hmm. If Kidlat likes her, maybe Claudine isn’t so bad after all. I give Claudine my birthday gift. It’s a bag full of Bagayan’s Best Yema Balls—without gayuma. “I made these for you. Happy birthday!”
“Oh. Thank you!” Claudine’s face lights up as I hand her the gift. Without hesitation, she takes a yema ball and rips the wrapper off. “Mmmm! This is so good. No one’s ever made me yema balls before.”
“Your mom doesn’t cook?” I ask.
“Mommy is too busy with work.” Claudine shakes her head. “We have a great cook though! She just doesn’t know how to make yema balls.”
My own mother doesn’t know how to cook, but Lola Toyang and Dad do. I mean, I live with a family of cooks, so it’s kind of hard to imagine not having anyone who can make you yema balls or teach you how to make them.
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Claudine drags me inside the house and into the parlor. Or what I think is the parlor. It looks more like a cathedral to me. There are two huge winding staircases leading to two doors. I half expect a princess to come down from one side and her beast boyfriend on the other.
“We’ll see my room later.” Claudine pulls me to the big double doors underneath the stairway balcony. “For now, we eat!”
The door opens to a huge ballroom with floor-to-ceiling windows. Even from where we stand, I can see the waters of San Bernardino Strait and the clear blue sky.
It’s so pretty that I almost forget why I’m here in the first place—to make this girl pay for all the mean things she did to me.
When we reach the buffet table, I notice something isn’t right. There isn’t any food in the serving dishes. The table decorations aren’t even done yet. All I can see is a tray of baked macaroni, a small basket of garlic bread, and a pitcher of iced tea good enough for two people.
I swallow hard as the knot in my stomach tightens. “Where is everyone?”
It’s all been some kind of prank. The gayuma didn’t work after all. Claudine is still her mean self.
“They’re not here yet, silly.” Claudine giggles.
The sound grates on my nerves. If she thinks I’m not smart enough to figure out this trick she’s playing, she’s totally mistaken. I turn to leave. “Let’s go, Kidlat!”
“What? Why? No, don’t go. I’m not playing a trick on you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Claudine insists. She puts a hand on my arm. “Please. People won’t be arriving until dinner. I invited you early so we could have some time alone together. I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”
I stare at Claudine, the girl who’s been making my life difficult in this province since I arrived. She has this begging look on her face that reminds me of Kidlat whenever he wants a treat.
The gayuma is still at work—and she’s being genuine.
“I don’t drink iced tea,” I say slowly. It’s amazing how well the gayuma works. I can’t believe I really managed to pull this off. “I’d like an orange juice instead. Or maybe just cold water?”
“Stay here. Sit down. Don’t leave, okay?” In a flash, Claudine’s gone.
I sit at the empty table, watching Kidlat sniff around.
“What do you think, good boy?” I ask my dog. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a home as big as this?”
Kidlat looks at me and sneezes. I guess it’s a no.
I laugh. “Okay. Well, we have the entire day to live like rich people. Come here, have some macaroni.”
I’m feeding Kidlat on a paper plate when Claudine arrives.
“Ta-da!” She brandishes two pitchers, one full of fresh orange juice and the other full of ice-cold water. “I tried to make the orange juice myself, but it tasted gross, so I had Ate Rica make it.”
“Thanks.” I watch Claudine pour a water and an orange juice for both of us. Wow. The gayuma really is working well.
While we eat, Claudine won’t stop talking. “Mommy ordered the international menu from the caterer. I’d prefer if we had some of the stuff your canteen serves, but Mommy won’t have any of it.” Claudine rolls her eyes. “Her friends and their kids aren’t used to Filipino cuisine, she says.”
“Mm-hmm …” I mumble, showing her that I’m listening even as I stuff myself with baked macaroni.
“I wouldn’t invite them if not for Mommy,” she continues. Claudine toys with her fork. “But at least I’ll have guests. I’m not sure if the kids from Sunday school will come.”
Hmm. This is new. I’ve always thought Claudine was this popular, snotty rich girl. Now I wonder whether she has any friends at all. A tiny part of me feels bad for her.
“They’ll come,” I assure her. But honestly? I don’t really know for sure. I mean, I always assumed she had tons of friends, but maybe she only sees them in Bible class. Maybe they’ll come, but maybe they won’t. Either way, that’s something she doesn’t have to hear. She seems to be stressed enough as it is.
“Are you done?” Claudine asks as I swallow the last of the baked macaroni on my plate. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I was actually hoping to get another serving, but I’m curious. Claudine looks really excited for me to meet whoever that is. “Who?”
Claudine winks. “You’ll see.”
I didn’t know who to expect, but I definitely never thought that the “someone” Claudine wanted me to meet wouldn’t be a person at all—it’s a cat. Claudine’s old pet cat.
“Thanks, Ate Rica,” she says, taking the very furry, all-white cat from one of their maids. The woman returns Claudine’s smile before leaving. “This is Winter. Winter is my best friend. I’ve had her since I was born.”
“Hi, Winter.” I pat the cat on the head, tightening my grip on Kidlat’s leash. I snapped on his leash the moment I saw Ate Rica carry Claudine’s cat. What in the world is Claudine thinking, making me bring my dog to meet her cat? Cats and dogs can’t be friends.
As expected, Winter the cat hisses at Kidlat. But my dog, being the good dog he is, sits at attention in front of her, his tail wagging gently. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink when she threatens him with her paw. Winter’s claws are surprisingly retracted. It’s like she’s testing how Kidlat’s going to react. Kind of trying to see how far his patience will go.
Kidlat sits
calmly beside me for a good five minutes just watching the cat, while Claudine and I talk. And just like that, Winter is lying on her back with her legs in the air, inviting Kidlat to play.
“Your dog is amazing,” Claudine says, smiling widely. “Every dog Winter meets ends up fighting with her. But Kidlat didn’t even flinch! I knew he’d behave.”
“Who’s a good boy?” I reward Kidlat with a belly rub. “You are!”
“You should let him roam without a leash,” Claudine suggests.
“Nah.” I shake my head. “It’s his first time here and he’s just met her. I have to keep him on a leash until they’re truly BFFs. Just to be safe.”
“Good point.” Claudine grins. Maybe it’s because I always see her scowling around me, but it’s only now that I notice she has a dimple on her right cheek. “They’ll be BFFs like us in no time!”
“Right.” I hide my snort with a cough. This gayuma-ed Claudine actually seems like a nice person. But it’s not easy to forget months of meanness from this girl. Besides, no one’s ever reached BFF status with me. Except Kidlat.
Because to be a best friend and have a best friend means you let people get really close to you. Even my close friends in Manila didn’t really know all of me. I never told them that the Bagayans practice magic. No one knows the real me aside from my family.
Claudine carries her cat on her shoulder as she shows me around her house. Though I really can’t call the Dimasalang house a “house.” It really is a mansion. A sprawling, gigantic mansion. I could put five of Lolo Sebyo’s house inside and there’d still be room to spare. There are so many doors and hallways. I’d totally end up falling into the sea if I entered the wrong one.
One thing I notice though … There seem to be no photos of Claudine’s dad. It’s always Claudine and her mom, or her mom with people who look a lot like her. They all have Claudine’s deep-set eyes and high-bridged nose.
Sugar and Spite Page 6
