Okay, now I feel even worse. Lolo Sebyo is blaming himself for my very selfish mistake. “No, Lolo. This is on me.”
“Unfortunately, the magic agrees with you.” My grandfather lets out a long sigh. “Do you remember the first lesson I ever gave you when I decided to take you on as my apprentice?”
“Yes, Lolo.” I nod. “It was about Balik. You get what you give.”
I remember it clearly. We were sitting on the bench by his potion lab when I got initiated as the “official” Bagayan arbularyo-in-traing. Lolo guided me through the most basic of magical concepts: Balik. Whatever you give, you’ll also receive. Do good, you get rewarded with good fortune. Do bad, you get punished with bad.
“That is correct,” says Lolo, leaning over the clay pot to sniff my potion. “But like I have told you before, the gayuma is a dangerous potion to brew. Arbularyos avoid making it if they can—unless they have long abandoned their morality and no longer care about consequence. That is why you don’t see many books written about it. You see, the gayuma is the only potion that always has a negative Balik.”
“What do you mean, Lolo?” I have a bad feeling I know the answer, and it’s not good.
My grandfather stops sniffing the pot and looks up to meet my gaze. “Using something as pure as love to control another—there is simply nothing good in that.”
“Oh no.” The butterflies in my stomach turn to frenzy. I lean on the table, willing myself not to throw up.
Woof. Something wet touches my knee. I look down and find Kidlat staring at me. I calm down a bit. That is, until—
“I agree,” Lolo says, nodding. “ ‘Oh no’ indeed.”
Irritation overshadows my worry. I narrow my eyes. Okay, I deserve the punishment. But my grandfather can at least be afraid for me, even just a teeny bit. Kidlat moves closer to me. His body heat calms me once more.
“I’m sorry, my Bee. I do not mean to offend you.” He ruffles my hair. “I’m not worried because I’m certain you will deflect the Balik.”
That’s reassuring but not reassuring enough. “But how po, Lolo?”
“The Balik begins seven days after you lift the spell.” Lolo Sebyo stirs the potion and sniffs it again. I wish he’d tell me why he keeps smelling and stirring it. “Reversing the gayuma didn’t work not because you didn’t do it right, but because the spell has been lifted already. True love—true friendship—broke the magic’s hold on the Dimasalang girl.”
I remember earlier tonight at the beach, when Kidlat, Claudine, and I were under the stars. Claudine said she was glad we’re friends. I tell Lolo all about it.
“Do you believe that is when both of you acknowledged that your friendship is real?” Lolo Sebyo asks.
I nod. Claudine and I were just biking and eating most of the day. We didn’t really have a serious talk until this evening, before she left.
“I see. Then starting at that moment, magic has given you seven days to right your wrong. After which your Balik will come.” Lolo Sebyo smiles sadly. “I told you, gayuma magic is a complicated one.”
I rub the back of my neck. “But how do I make things right? I made a huge mess of things, Lolo.”
“Do not lose hope,” my grandpa says as he throws the contents of the palayok into the sink. “All you need to do is ask for and receive forgiveness from your friend.”
Kidlat gives my foot a nudge, like he’s telling me that he agrees with Lolo.
“I can ask, but I doubt she’ll forgive me.” If someone did the same thing to me, I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive them. I’m having trouble even forgiving myself.
“She will.” Lolo Sebyo gives me a reassuring smile. “Like with the kindness potion, the gayuma would not have worked as well as it did had Claudine not felt any fondness for you. She must have wanted to become your friend already even before you gave her the gayuma. That is a true love that will forgive you and save you from Balik.”
Hearing this should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel worse. Claudine has been a true friend to me all along, and she deserves to know the truth.
I need to be the true friend to Claudine that she is to me.
Unfortunately, the worsening weather doesn’t make it easy for me. School gets canceled the very next day, and the torrential rains make it impossible for me to meet with Claudine at Nanay Dadang’s. It’s not just bad weather—it’s a typhoon.
The government agency in charge of tracking the typhoon is the PAGASA, or the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration. They even named the tropical cyclone “Typhoon Totoy,” an innocent-sounding name for a dangerous storm. Typhoon Totoy is expected to bring strong winds and storm surges to Isla Pag-Ibig, so everyone in town is rushing to prepare for it.
Schools, resorts, and business establishments have all closed down—the Bagayan Food Haus is one of them. Everything is closed and canceled because of the storm. Even mass and Bible study have been canceled.
I asked Lolo Sebyo if getting forgiven via video call counts, but he couldn’t be sure. We both agreed that it’s best to do it in person though. A call or a text just wouldn’t come across right, and I can’t afford to get the tone wrong. Mom might lose her promotion—or worse, her job—if Claudine gets mad at me.
Besides, I’ve already tried to text Claudine to ask how she is, but I couldn’t get a cell phone signal. The typhoon is steadily becoming more dangerous, damaging a lot of structures and facilities on the island.
On Thursday, PAGASA insists we head for our assigned evacuation centers, because Typhoon Totoy is set to arrive and Barangay San Pedro is no longer safe. By Friday, military trucks arrive to pick us up.
One of our neighbors refuses to evacuate. He doesn’t want to leave his goats and pigs behind. He lives alone and the animals are the only family he has. I totally understand—I can’t bear the thought of us leaving Kidlat and my grandfather’s chickens behind. But unlike my dog and Lolo Sebyo’s birds, there’s just no room for his large pets in the trucks already crowded with people and their belongings.
The soldiers cuff and physically carry him into a caravan. He’s assured by people from the provincial veterinary office that they will bring his pets to the evacuation center. Sure enough, the officers load his pigs and goats into an empty vehicle just as we leave the village.
I hug Kidlat tighter, burying my face into his fur. My ears pop as the truck climbs higher up the mountain terrain.
Two years ago, when we still lived in Marikina, we were forced to evacuate as Tropical Storm Karding flooded the city. But we had a car back then—we were able to bring as much stuff as our old sedan could carry. Now that we’ve sold the car and have to rely on the government’s help, we have no choice but to leave most of our stuff behind.
I’m getting used to our life here in Isla Pag-Ibig. But I have to admit that I do miss the comforts of our old life in Metro Manila. Things were much easier when our family had a bit more money than we do now.
Before long, we finally arrive at the evacuation center.
The mayor’s office has assigned people from our village to stay inside the Santa Elena Multipurpose Center, which they turned into a temporary shelter for us. Families from the other coastal town are staying at the Santa Elena Public School. Barangay Santa Elena is a village on the highest peak of Isla Pag-Ibig, near the cell phone tower. We should be safe here.
The people running the evacuation center put up square tents without ceilings inside the center—one for each family. The tents are arranged in neat columns with a narrow space between them so people can pass through.
Aw-ah-woo-hoo! Kidlat whines, biting at his leash as we walk through the center.
“I’m sorry, Kidlat.” I lean down to pat my dog on the head. “The lady said you need to wear a leash every time you’re outside our assigned tent or you can’t stay with me. They’ll put you in the shelter across the street with Lolo’s chickens and other animals you don’t know. Do you want that?”
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br /> Kidlat whines again, but he stops struggling. I breathe a sigh of relief. Mom had to beg the people at the door not to separate Kidlat from me. They weren’t happy about it, but they eventually relented and allowed me to keep my dog.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Dad huffs, dragging with him four large, packed-to-the-brim suitcases. He also carries two big duffel bags. “Did you pack the entire house, Papa?”
“Sus! Do not complain.” Lolo Sebyo pokes one of the bags with his cane. “Those are priceless books, potions, and ingredients. It would be impossible to find replacements.”
“Couldn’t we leave them at the house and just put some magical protection on them or something?” Mom is panting as heavily as Dad. She’s pulling a cart full of heavy boxes and more stuffed gym bags. “I feel like I’ve done twenty thousand reps of lifting weights pushing this thing. Honey, which one’s our—”
“Excuse me po.” A volunteer comes up to us, pushing a wheelchair. She tells Lolo Sebyo to use it so he won’t have a hard time walking. “Tatay, gamitin nyo po itong wheelchair para di kayo mahirapan maglakad.”
“Maraming salamat!” Lolo Sebyo thanks the woman.
I adjust the straps of my backpack as I watch Dad and the volunteer help my grandfather settle on the wheelchair. I wonder how far our assigned tent is for the volunteer to think Lolo Sebyo needs one.
“Sunod po kayo sa akin,” a volunteer says, asking us to follow her. She guides us through the maze of numbered but identical blue tents in the evacuation center. I don’t see any of the kids from school or Bible study. I hope I will so evacuation will be less lonely. But Lolo Sebyo is very popular. Everyone we pass by seems to know him.
I hold Kidlat’s leash tighter. We could totally get lost in here if I don’t pay attention to where we’re going. I remind myself that the entrance doors are on the north side while the toilets are on the other end.
“These tents are great.” Mom lets out a whistle. “I didn’t think our little island would have the budget for this.”
“Aren’t they?” The volunteer beams. “They’re mostly funded from donations from the private sector, but the mayor made certain the budget committee purchased these before the rainy season so we’d be prepared. And we are. We’re probably the most prepared island in all of Bicol.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if Claudine’s family was one of those that donated. Tita Peachy and Tita Raven do seem like the type of rich people who share their blessings.
The volunteer leads us farther into the shelter. About half the tents aren’t occupied yet. But we did arrive early, being so close to the sea. The volunteer said more people are expected to come in within the day, and that we will be sharing the evacuation center with the people from Claudine’s village. “A lot of them have already left the island though. Not surprising since their area covers the rich communities and the businesses by the port.”
A trickle of excitement travels down my spine, sending goose bumps on my skin.
While the altruistic part of me hopes Claudine and her family are out of harm’s way, the more selfish part of me hopes to see her here. As much as I feel terrible for what I did, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be forgiven. Because I do. I not only want to avoid Balik, but it would be great to keep being friends with Claudine too. I could use my friend during this scary time.
We’ve reached the toilets at the far end of the evacuation center when the volunteer finally stops.
“This is you,” she says, pointing to tent number 283. “It’s fortunate a tent in the corner near the windows and bleachers is empty so you get to keep your dog. Please make sure to keep him secured at all times. If anyone complains about him, we’ll have no choice but to put him in the shelter.”
The volunteer helps Lolo Sebyo get off the wheelchair. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this. There might be more evacuees needing it. But I’ll be back with a chair for Tatay.”
“Thank you,” Mom says, but as soon as the volunteer is out of earshot, she shakes a finger at Kidlat. “Hear that, fur-ball? You better behave or it’s the shelter for you!”
Kidlat covers his face with his paws. We all laugh, including Lolo Sebyo.
“Sunshine and I will set up the banig inside and somehow make all this luggage fit. We are going to be the only family in this evacuation center with a library,” Dad says in a commanding voice, the one he used to use when he ran the kitchen of the restaurant in Marikina. “Bee, help Lolo find a seat in the bleachers while we wait for the volunteer to return. Kidlat, you guard Bee and Lolo.” Dad claps his hands together. “Got it? Okay. Everyone, on to your tasks. We got this!”
“Yes, sir!” Mom says with a mock salute.
Dad rolls his eyes.
I giggle and do as I’m told. “Let’s sit on that bench, Lolo. That way, you don’t need to climb the bleachers.”
“I am fine.” Lolo Sebyo grunts. “Bring a bunch of those books for me, Bee. I will just catch up on my reading.”
“Okay po, Lolo.”
Lolo Sebyo and I pick a bench beside Nanay Dadang and Nanay Concha playing cards and drinking beer. They have a cooler between them.
“Ah! Well, if it isn’t my favorite Bagayans!” a familiar voice says.
“Magandang umaga po, Nanay Dadang, Nanay Concha,” I greet the older women with a good morning as I balance a bunch of books in my left hand and keep Kidlat’s leash secured in the other.
I wonder if the sisters have ice candy stowed in their cooler. “By any chance, did you bring any ice candies with you?”
Nanay Dadang bursts out in boisterous laughter. “I wish!”
Lolo Sebyo takes a seat on the bench.
“Join us in tong-its, Sebyo?” Nanay Dadang shuffles the cards. “There is more beer in the cooler. Your granddaughter can get one for you.”
“No, thank you.” Lolo Sebyo shows them his book. “I brought reading material.”
“Of course he did.” Dad appears, bringing Lolo Sebyo a water bottle. “He brought his entire library. He made us bring his entire library.”
Dad gives me a wink before leaving, making me giggle. I sit beside Lolo Sebyo with my legs crossed under me. Kidlat jumps on the bench and crawls into my lap.
Nanay Dadang seems to still insist on talking to Lolo even though Lolo is obviously starting to read his book. “I would have brought my entire sari-sari store if I could. I heard the Ciervos chartered boats for their things days ago, before they got on that helicopter.”
“Ah. The things money can buy,” Nanay Concha says, taking a swig of her beer. “Can’t carry money to the grave, but it can help you out of the grave in times like this.”
I don’t like eavesdropping on other people’s conversations, but it’s really hard to avoid when they’re so close to you.
Nanay Dadang takes a card from the pile. “Not everyone wealthy left the island. Peachy Dimasalang refused to leave. My nephew is friends with their driver, Tinio. Peachy sent Tinio to assist her partner to the mainland with their things, but Peachy still insisted on staying until the last minute. So of course, Peachy’s partner came back for her. It is too late to fly them and the girl out now.”
Wait. What?
“I suppose it’s understandable. Peachy worked hard to get where she is—”
“I’m sorry po.” I can’t help myself. I dread the answer but I need to know. “Ano po ibig nyo sabihin by ‘the girl’?”
“Ah! Did you not know? Claudine stayed behind with her parents,” Nanay Dadang says, turning around to face me. “Threw a nasty fit and locked herself and the cat in her bedroom. Peachy was afraid she’d jump off the helicopter if they forced her to leave.”
“Raven still should have forced the girl to go with her.” Nanay Concha shakes her head in disapproval.
Nanay Dadang shrugs and takes a sip of beer straight from the bottle. “That girl won’t leave her mother. Great kid. Very loyal. Strong willed too.”
I feel a surge of hope. Maybe I will get a chance to make every
thing right with Claudine.
Kidlat licks my hand. I look down at the dog in my lap, and he stares back at me with his soulful brown eyes. They look scared.
I stroke Kidlat’s head. “It’s okay, good boy. We’re safe here—”
The strong wind’s loud howl interrupts me, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Then, just when it seems like things can’t get any worse, the electricity goes out, blanketing the center in total darkness.
“Ow!” I accidentally poke myself in the eye trying to slap a mosquito away from my face.
Kidlat looks at me with his tongue out.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” I know panting is a dog’s way of sweating. But when you lack sleep and have to reapply anti-mosquito lotion for the twenty-millionth time, the littlest thing gets to you.
Being stuck in one place with people you don’t know and nowhere to go is no fun. But our family’s making the most of our time. Mom and Dad are helping out the people cooking food for evacuees. Lolo Sebyo does his part too—he provides free massages and healing oils for anyone who needs them.
I had a difficult time sleeping last night. I miss the comfort of my bed and the ease of doing things with electricity. Because we still don’t have electricity since last night’s blackout. PAGASA said they expect Typhoon Totoy will make landfall in Isla Pag-Ibig anytime today, so the electric company still needs to be shut down for safety reasons.
Kidlat lowers his ears. My heart melts.
“Aww. Come here, you,” I say, pulling him close to me on the floor. Between the loud howling of winds, the pesky mosquitos, and the fear of having to ask Claudine for forgiveness, the only thing that helps me sleep at night on the hard concrete floor of the evacuation center is having Kidlat next to me. He snuggles under my blankets, comforting me. My dog truly is a blessing.
“Help me with this, Jolina?” Mom comes into our tent with a huge sack of corn still in their husks. “We’re making ginataang mais for evacuees. A lot of them haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Sugar and Spite Page 10
