Starlight

by Nikki Gaspar

  “Yes, ma’am, but I haven’t met them yet.” I lifted my hand that’s holding the letter. “I found this letter from my dad hidden among my mom’s things. Bellanmuse was mentioned and a brother’s name. I decided to travel there and find out if I still have a family.”

  “Oh, Claire, what if you can’t find them? Please let me give you my phone number. You can call me if you need a place to stay.” Christine looked at me expectantly, so I handed over my phone.

  She programmed her number and asked for mine as well.

  It was sweet that she cared for a stranger like me. I felt braver now because I have someone to call for help if my adventure turned out to be a total failure.

  “What is your uncle’s name, by the way? Maybe I know him.”

  “His name is Anthony Dava.” I spent hours last night trying to find Anthony Dava on social media. It would be great if I found his address or at least a picture. But I did not find him anywhere.

  “I don’t know any Dava, and the only Anthony I know is the king.”

  ***

  The plane landed in Bellanmuse at ten o'clock in the morning. Christine went to the baggage claim, but since I only have my backpack, I waved her goodbye.

  Before leaving the airport, I joined the queue for the money changer. The tourists in front of me were wearing mountaineering backpacks as big as me, and chatting excitedly, eager to start their visit to Bellanmuse. According to my research, the currency was called Bell—they have paper bills of ten, fifty, and one hundred denominations and silver coins, of five and one denominations.

  As I stepped outside the airport, I was welcomed by the fresh Bellanmuse air—a good sign that I could walk outside for hours without breaking a sweat.

  “Claire! Claire!” Christine called out from a few feet away. She was waving her hands to get my attention and doesn’t seem to notice that the tourists around us were looking at her.

  “Dear, this is my son, Ben,” she said when I approached, gesturing to the man standing beside her.

  I looked up at Ben who towered both me and Christine. “Hi, I’m Claire it’s nice to meet you,” I said.

  “And you too,” he said, shaking my hand. “I’m sure my mom talked to you the whole flight, she does that to distract herself.”

  “Oh, shut up, Ben,” Christine said, grinning from ear to ear. “Claire, I was thinking. You can start looking for your uncle in the Capitol. Maybe they can check his name in the citizen records. We’ll drop you there if you want.”

  “Okay, that’s a good idea.”

  ***

  The car’s window showed the picturesque scene of Bellanmuse. Mountains could be seen from afar, green and conical. The few establishments we passed by designed their facade to match the scenery.

  “Son, do you know a man named Anthony Dava?” Christine asked Ben.

  “I don’t think so. Who’s that?”

  “He’s Claire’s uncle, and she’s looking for him.”

  “Are you sure his surname is Dava?” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Maybe it’s Anthony Grandis, the king.”

  “Oh, I think I’m too clumsy to be a Princess,” I joked and we burst into laughter.

  A few minutes later, Ben parked the car in front of a white building. Its size dwarfed all the buildings and establishments in the area.

  “We’re here, Claire,” Ben said.

  “Thank you so much for the ride.”

  “No worries, dear. Just remember to call me if you need anything,” Christine said.

  “Okay. I promise.”

  I watched as the mother and son drove away. Christine kept waving until they were out of sight.

  Chapter Five

  There was a matching thump in my chest for each step of my shoes on the unpolished, white stairs. The search for my relatives officially started.

  Straight ahead the wide and high-ceilinged foyer was an information desk, so I approached the man behind it.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, ma’am,” the man said. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, please. I would like to know where I can check if a person I’m looking for is a citizen here?”

  He gestured to the stairs behind him. “You can go to the Statistics Office on the second floor, room 204.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said and then proceeded to the opulent stairs.

  201…202…203…then at the end of the corridor, the door signage says 204-Statistics Office.

  I pushed the office door open and saw that there was another information desk with a woman behind it.

  “Hi, may I ask if I can check here if the person I’m looking for is a citizen?” I asked her.

  “We can help you check if the name is in our system, but I’m afraid we cannot tell you the person’s details.”

  “That’s fair, thank you.”

  “Okay, follow me.”

  She led me to an office on the right side of the room. It was large and full of desks with employees busy with their work. We stopped at the desk nearest to the door.

  “Hi Jen, this is miss…” She looked inquiringly at me.

  “Claire.” I supplied my name.

  She informed the staff, named Jen that I wanted to check a person’s name in their system and then left me to go back to her station.

  “What is the name you’re looking for?” Jen asked.

  “Anthony Dava”

  “Okay, let me check.” She typed the name on her computer.

  “Sorry, but we do not have that name in our list of citizens.”

  Oh no.

  “Can you also check if there is any person with the last name Dava?” I said with my fingers crossed.

  “Hold on.” She typed again. “Sorry, still no results.”

  I left the office sunk in gloom.

  “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” the man I ran into at the stairs snarled at me.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Claire, take a deep breath. This is just a roadblock. You did not travel this far and spent a huge chunk of money just to give up after an hour.

  If someone went missing, where would you look aside from the statistics office? The police station was an obvious choice, but how would I explain that I don’t even know my uncle’s appearance? What if they think I’m a nuisance? Could they arrest me because of that?

  “Excuse me, ma’am. You forgot your I.D.” An employee’s voice interrupted my thoughts. He ran after an older lady who was holding a basket full of vegetables.

  And then it hit me.

  The vendors in the market back home knew everyone, and it must be the same thing here, considering their country was small.

  I approached the man behind the information desk again. “Hi, may I ask how to get to the market place?”

  He looked up from the paper he was reading. “You can ride the bus. There is a stop a few meters to the left outside this building. All buses stop at the market.”

  “Thanks!”

  “No problem.”

  I walked out of the building and found the bus stop easily. An elderly lady sat on one of the benches. I thought—why not try to ask people now.

  “Are you lost, child?” she asked after I gave her my uncle’s name.

  “No, ma’am. I’m just looking for my uncle. I think he is from here.”

  The lady scrunched her eyebrows. “I can’t remember if I met an Anthony Dava or any Dava.”

  “That’s okay, thank you.”

  Just then, the bus arrived. I held the lady’s hand while she boards the vehicle, and then we were on the road.

  ***

  The market was bustling with shoppers and vendors. I walked along the cobbled alley and admired the quaint little village with plenty of small establishments.

  The first stores I saw were selling fresh produce. There were fruits, vegetables, and live animals like chickens, ducks, and quails.

  “Hi, miss, are you looking for something?” A man approached me.

  �
��No, thank you…actually, yes, sir, I am.”

  “Do you want some chickens? These are fat, very tasty when roasted.”

  “No, sir, I was just trying to find out if my uncle is from this country. His name is Anthony Dava.”

  His eyes lit up. “King Anthony! He is your uncle? Are you a princess?” he said at the top of his voice.

  The nearby vendors heard him and came nearer to listen to us. I need to clarify the situation before people start to bow, curtsy, or something.

  What did Ben say the king’s name was? Anthony…Grant? Or was it Gram? Or maybe Anthony Grand? Oh! Anthony Grandis!

  “No, sir. I think the king is named Anthony Grandis. My uncle is Anthony Dava.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Sorry. I don’t know anyone else named Anthony,” he said. “How about you? Does anyone of you know a person named Anthony Dava?” he asked the other vendors nearby.

  All of them shook their heads.

  “Thank you. I will go ahead now,” I said.

  “Hey! What about the chickens?”

  ***

  I continued my stroll and was just passing by the fruit stalls when something piqued my curiosity. Most of the fruits were familiar to me. There were pineapples, bananas, apples, and grapes, but there were also some that I have never seen before. There’s this minuscule orange fruit that had green hairs surrounding it.

  “Hi, do you want some fruits?” a lady asked me.

  “Sorry, I was just looking. But do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “No problem. Go ahead.”

  “Do you know a man named Anthony Dava?”

  “Anthony Dava…I have never heard of that name before. Let’s ask my mother. She has been selling here for thirty years now. She knows almost everyone.”

  She beckoned me to follow her, and we approached an older lady and an older man who was chatting in front of a store selling baking ingredients.

  “Mama!”

  “Why are you yelling? Is this girl robbing you?”

  “No, mama. She’s asking if you know a person named Anthony Dava.”

  “Dava? I don’t know that Anthony Dava. Are you sure he is from here?” she asked me.

  “I don’t actually know him, ma’am. I just found a letter from my dad hidden among my mom’s things. It was mentioned in the letter that I have an uncle named Anthony Dava and that they are all from here in Bellanmuse.”

  “That’s weird. I thought I already know everyone.” She turned to the man she was talking to. “How about you?”

  The man shook his head. “Sorry, girl, I don’t know any person called Anthony Dava.”

  “That’s okay. Thank you so much,” I said to the three of them and left to continue asking somewhere else.

  Chapter Six

  Heads turned when people passed by the souvenir shops, as though their eyes were pulled by the festive display. It doesn’t matter whether they were tourists or locals—just doing their regular shopping and have seen the shops for years—everyone automatically stared. Posters bearing the country’s name in different colors were attached to the windows, while mannequins stood outside, wearing souvenir T-shirts.

  The first one wears a t-shirt that featured a mountain shaped like a bell, while the other was quite simple; written are the words: Bellanmuse yearns for its little star. A small star symbol was drawn after the words. That’s a weird thing to print on a t-shirt, why would a country yearn for a star?

  I went inside the shop to see the interesting trinkets on display. Among them were postcards, figurines, and ref magnets shaped like the bell mountain. Mr. Taz and Mrs. Luminaire would probably love them so I must remember to get some before I leave the country.

  I turned around to leave the shop and swayed on my feet. The last meal I had was dinner last night and all this excitement made me forget to get sustenance.

  “Are you okay, girl?” the old man who was arranging the display asked.

  “Yes, sir, thank you.”

  He shooed me away with a wave of his hand, apparently more concerned that I would plummet into his merchandise if I faint than on my well-being.

  The sweet smell of locally made wines met my nose a few feet from the souvenir shops. An employee was holding a tray with sample cups, and she was checking I.D.s before letting the tourists lined up before her get a sample. People around the shop were amused because the owner was threatening an adolescent boy to call the police if he doesn’t stop trying to trick the employee into believing that he was an adult to get some of the samples.

  I sighed in relief when finally, the restaurants and bakeshops came into view.

  The first restaurant had rotisserie chickens cooking slowly in front, and the signage says All chicken recipe available for only ten bells! Beside it was a pasta place named Speziata Carne Pasta.

  The smell of freshly-brewed coffee lured me inside the next shop—it was called Rosy’s All-Day Breakfast. The place was jam-packed with the lunch crowd. People actually had to move out of the way when I opened the door, and I brought my backpack down, carried it with my hand, just to avoid hitting everyone with it. I took that, however, as a sign that the food was great.

  The display contains a wide selection of mouthwatering bread. There were bread bowls that could be filled with soup, chocolate-filled croissants, and breadsticks topped with cheese, among others. I looked around the tables to gauge which one was the best seller, but the customers were eating different kinds.

  “Hi, miss, have you decided on what you’re getting?” a bespectacled lady with graying hair asked.

  “Hi, which one is your best seller?”

  She frowned on the display. “I would say the breadsticks is the best-seller, but everything is sold out at the end of the day, though.”

  “Oh…in that case, I’ll just have the breadsticks with cheese, please, and a cup of coffee.”

  She wrote down my order on a small pad. “That would be five bells.”

  I took a piece of five bell coins from my wallet and handed it to the lady. Instead of getting it from me, however, she just stared at my hand.

  The back of my right hand, between my thumb and forefinger, has a birthmark in the shape of a star. When I was a kid, my mom used to cover it with makeup before I go out of the house. But she gave up eventually when she found out that I remove it as soon as I arrived in school.

  My birthmark was like having a piece of heaven in my hand, and I have no intention of covering it up. Plus, I must admit that my classmates thought it was cool that I look tatted up.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” I asked the lady because she was still staring at my hand.

  With a sudden jerk, she grasped my hand and looked at my birthmark closely.

  “Is this a birthmark or a tattoo?” she asked.

  “A birthmark, ma’am, pretty, isn’t it? I’m lucky it was shaped like a star.”

  “Yes, it was very unique.”

  Although my birthmark was unique, this was the first time I came across a person who appeared to be very interested.

  “Are you from this country?”

  “No, I was just visiting.”

  “With your parents?” she asked with a shaky smile.

  “I’m alone, ma’am, my parents are both dead.”

  I was taken aback when her eyes teared up. I racked my brain, trying to remember if I said anything offensive, but I don’t think I did.

  She squeezed my hand gently before she let go. “Keep your money, child,” she said. “The food is my gift to you for visiting our country.”

  “Thank you so much, ma’am, but I don’t mind paying.”

  “No, no…I will not accept your money.” She smiled, but her eyes were still watery. “My name is Rosy.”

  “My name is Claire. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Come inside. It’s more comfortable to eat at our table in the back. You will not be disturbed by the other customers so you can rest well.” Rosy did not give me any choice. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to
wards the back.

  We entered a cozy living room. The back of the shop was obviously Rosy’s house because there were pictures of her and her family hanging on the wall. A sofa was placed in one corner with a few books on the shelf beside it. Rosy pulled me further inside until we reached a dining room where an antique table dominates the space.

  “You can sit here. I will bring your food.”

  I plopped down on one of the chairs and massaged my aching head.

  Rosy came back moments later carrying a tray. My eyes widened when she placed it on the table in front of me. The tray was filled with a piece of every kind of bread on the display.

  “I noticed that you couldn't decide which one to pick earlier, so I brought you all of them,” Rosy said.

  A young girl came in, carrying a pot of coffee with a pair of cup and saucer. She placed them on the table.

  “This is my niece. Her name is Liv.” Rosy introduced the girl.

  Liv and I greeted each other, and then she excused herself to go back to the shop.

  “Thank you, Rosy, but this is too much. I have to pay.”

  “No. I would be happy to let you taste them all, then tell me later which one is your favorite.”

  If I would be honest with myself, I was starting to salivate and was excited to taste all of them. “Thank you.”

  Her smile reached her eyes. “No need to thank me. Just enjoy the food and let me know which one is your favorite.”

  She was about to leave when I remembered that I haven’t asked about my uncle.

  “Wait, Rosy. I forgot to ask you something.”

  “What is it, child?”

  “Do you know a man named Anthony Dava?”

  Her brows pulled together in a frown. “Dava?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. He is my uncle—my dad’s brother. His name is Anthony Dava.”

  “Is that why you came to Bellanmuse? To find your uncle?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I wanted to see if I still have relatives.”

  “I am sorry, child, but I do not know that name.” I already figured that she doesn’t. Nobody seems to know my uncle.

  “That’s okay. Thank you anyway.”

  “Eat well.” She smiled and then left me alone to enjoy my feast.