“Can you tell her that I found my mother and that she’s sick and if I can still have the job to sweep the bakery so I can buy her medicine,” I said in one breath. I stared at her Hello Kitty slippers the whole time because looking at her face would make me not want to talk. I murmured, “Salamat,” and hurried back across the street to the drugstore. I stole a glance behind me. Perla was gone. My stomach fell. She wouldn’t give her mother the message. Why would she?
The woman at the drugstore filled a plastic bag with a few sachets of individually wrapped painkillers and penicillin, alcohol, and bandages. On the way home, the aroma of chicken-rice porridge drew me to a food stand. But all I could afford was the plain one, no chicken. It would have to do. At another stand, I bought some bananas and eggs.
When I arrived at the grave house, Lola Mercy was feeding Mama some brown liquid with a spoon. I let out a sigh, grateful that she was around to help. I used to feel bad that I never knew my grandmothers. I didn’t feel that way now.
“How is she, Lola?” Mama’s eyes were closed, but the crease between her brows was gone. I felt like a swimmer coming up for air after spending too much time underwater. It felt good to see Mama looking more comfortable.
“Her fever is down, but she’s not out of trouble yet,” said Lola. She blinked a few times and her frown deepened as she covered and set aside the jar that contained the brown liquid. “I’ve been feeding her this tea I made from my stash of lagundi leaves. Just a couple of spoonfuls every fifteen minutes for an hour usually does the trick.”
Lola seemed to want to say more. Something was bothering her. It felt as if I was plunged underwater again, unable to breathe. The silence was suddenly thick with dread. I waited for Lola to speak.
“Anak, I hope you don’t mind. I noticed the stain on your mother’s clothes so I checked to see what was causing it. I’ve seen boils before, but this one looks bad. There are pink streaks spreading away from it, and the surrounding skin is very swollen and hot. You have to consider taking her to a hospital if her fever continues and her pain gets worse.”
“Hospital?”
Lola patted my hand, but it didn’t prevent the panic rising in my throat like vomit. How would that be possible? The money I had left was barely enough for food, and would last maybe another week at most. It was out of the question to look for a job right now while Mama was sick. “Is there a chance that the infection will go away on its own?”
“Maybe. If you keep her wound very clean. We will have to wait and see.” When Lola said the word “clean,” I remembered the bags I held in my hand. Yes, I could do that. Lola stood to go. Her face, though, never lost that puckered look around her eyes and mouth. She was still worried. But Mama looked comfortable for now. I felt more hopeful than afraid.
“Thank you, Lola, for staying with Mama. Please take some bananas and eggs.”
“Please keep the food for yourself and your mother. You’re going to need your strength if your mother is going to get through this. Now listen, my dear. When your mother wakes up, give her more of the lagundi tea. Then give her something to eat. The stronger she is, the better it will be for her.”
She took my hands into both of hers, which felt dry and papery. They were brown, gnarled, but strong. “We can only put our trust in God to keep us safe. Pray the Rosary. It will help calm your nerves. If you run out of the tea, or if you need me to come back, just let Jojo know when he comes around.” Lola squeezed my hand one more time. She leaned in and whispered, “It’s a good time to call your uncle, just in case.”
“I will. Salamat po,” I whispered back, and watched her hobble away.
“Nora.” Mama’s voice was so soft I wasn’t sure she had spoken at all. I went over and knelt beside her. My body ached and felt heavy. I needed to eat and sleep but my mind said it was time to take care of Mama.
Her eyes fluttered open when I pressed my cheek to her forehead to check for fever. I had seen Lola do this to Jojo when they came to pick up their laundry some time ago. I’d asked her why she didn’t use her hand and she said that the cheek was more sensitive to warmth. She was right. The heat from Mama’s forehead was intense. I could still feel it after I moved away.
Mama watched me as I soaked the rag in cool water and placed it back on her forehead. “Have some more of this tea, Mama. It’s supposed to help your pain and fever. Here, Mama, take these too.”
I tore open a packet of aspirin and penicillin and gave her one of each. The lady at the pharmacy had told me to crush the antibiotic, but it seemed to me that it would be better if Mama swallowed it instead.
“Thank you, anak,” said Mama, her voice soft and whispery like rustling palm trees in the wind. With a grimace, she raised herself on one elbow, placed the pills on her tongue, and sipped the tea from a spoon. She clutched at her side as she lowered herself down again.
Was it the right time to ask her where she had been? Was Mama strong enough to answer? I had to know. I deserved to know. The loneliness and abandonment I had felt flashed through my mind. My hands balled into fists.
“What happened to you, Mama? Where did you go?” Unwanted tears trickled down my face. Mama tried to brush them off my cheek but I turned away. I didn’t want her to touch me just then. “I waited for you! Then I tried to find you. And when I didn’t, I found debts and Tiger.”
She looked at me, with squinted eyes at first, and then they flew wide open. “You mean you didn’t know where I was? Didn’t you get my message?”
“What?”
“I asked Mr. Santiago to send a message. He promised me that someone would be sent to tell you where I was.” Mama blinked as tears welled up in her eyes. She stretched her hand out to me, grabbed hold of my hand, and squeezed tight. “Anak, please let me explain.”
I unclenched my fists and wrapped her hand in both of mine. I could see my exhaustion mirrored in Mama, only ten times worse. I should have let her rest, but if she was ready to talk, then I was prepared to listen.
“Oh, Nora. I want so much more for you than this. I want you to go to school and have a real chance at making a good life for yourself. It was what your father would’ve wanted. I was desperate and made some terrible mistakes. You know about my debts.”
My heart felt heavy. “Was that why you went back to see Lola Fely?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Jojo and I went to see Rosie, to find out if she knew where you were and what happened to you. She told me you were upset when you returned from a visit with Lola Fely. She also told me about Mr. Santiago and Tiger.”
Mama grimaced and remained silent for a moment. “Yes, that’s true. I didn’t understand why I hadn’t heard from my brother—”
“Wait, I have something to show you.” I remembered Tito Danny’s letter. I pulled it out of my pocket and showed it to her.
She sighed after reading it and gave it back to me. “Well, it wasn’t the news I’d hoped for, but all the same, I’m so relieved to finally hear from him. When he didn’t answer my previous letters, I began worrying that something had happened to him. So I thought maybe, just maybe, Lola Fely could lend us the cash we needed to pay off my debts and boat fare for us so we could finally go home. I was wrong.”
My skin crawled at the thought of Mama groveling at Lola Fely’s feet. Especially since she had never returned the money Mama “invested” in her dry goods store scheme. It should’ve been her last resort to go crawling back to Lola Fely. It probably was.
“I should’ve stayed away. She’s a terrible woman. It’s hard to believe she’s Papa’s aunt. She was all bitterness about your father’s watch, and insisted that if we wanted to borrow money, we had to give her the watch to keep until we repaid our debt. As if she’d really give it back. She just wanted a reason to get her hands on it.” Mama chuckled a little at the memory and then grimaced with pain. She motioned for more tea.
Papa’s watch. How was I going to tell her that we didn’t have it anymore? That Tiger had taken it?<
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Mama closed her eyes and said, “I wasn’t going to let that bruha have the watch. When Rosie told me about Mr. Santiago, I decided to borrow money. I hoped my luck would change and I could double it. Then we would have enough to settle all my debts and start a new life in Davao.”
Mama took a deep breath. “A few days ago, I was playing mahjong with Rosie at her friend’s house where the stakes were high. When Tiger showed up, he insisted I come with him and talk to his boss, Mr. Santiago. Rosie didn’t want me to go but I knew I had to. I didn’t want to cause Rosie’s friend any trouble. She wanted to go with me but Tiger refused. I told Rosie I’d call her. But the factory didn’t have a working telephone.” She paused. “Give me a sip of water, anak.”
I helped her take a few sips. “What did Mr. Santiago want to talk to you about?”
“What else?” She half-snorted. “I had missed two payments and he wanted to know why. I promised he would have his money soon but he wouldn’t let me leave. He wanted me to make good on the loan by working for him in his T-shirt factory.”
Mama was quiet for a while. Then she said, “I wanted to go home and tell you about it and make arrangements with Lola Mercy to look after you, but they wouldn’t let me. I asked Mr. Santiago to send you a message.”
“I never got it.” That was probably why Tiger had been here the first day Mama disappeared. I wasn’t ready to tell her about that, either. Why upset her more than necessary? “Was that where you got all these insect bites?”
“Yes. The building had lots of mosquitoes. They kept me working for three straight days with very few breaks. There was food and a place to sleep but I wanted to get my work done as soon as possible and come home.” Her lips curled into a smile. “I made three times my quota, more than enough to repay Mr. Santiago. He is a fair man and paid me for the extra work.”
That must have been what I saw the man give to Mama yesterday. “Well, it’s a good thing we have the money. Lola said that if your fever didn’t go away, I would have to take you to the hospital.”
Suddenly, Mama’s eyes grew big and her hands patted at her dress. “Where is it? Where is it?”
“Where is what, Mama?”
“There should be a folded envelope in my pocket.”
I scrambled over to the basket that held our dirty clothes. I pulled out the dress Mama had been wearing and looked for the pocket. There it was, a folded white envelope stamped with Mr. Santiago’s name and the address of his store.
But the envelope was empty.
Chapter Eighteen
Mama could not stop crying. I would have been just as inconsolable if I wasn’t busy trying to calm her down. Her sobs escalated to screams that brought curious neighbors peering through the gaps in the sheet that covered the bars of our grave house. Mama even struggled to stand and said over and over that she had to talk to Mr. Santiago. She wanted me to call a tricycle, anything that would get her to him so she could ask—no, demand—he tell her what happened to the money.
Mama hobbled as far as the alley and collapsed. When she clasped her side, it came away reddish and smelly, with fresh blood and pus. Aling Nena fussed over Mama as she helped me bring her back inside. I expected her to fire questions at me, but she didn’t. Her eyes grew big at the sight of blood and she left us alone, shooing away the other spectators that had gathered.
Mama lay on the mat, unmoving. She gazed at the ceiling, her eyes glistening with moisture. Her hands lay still. I pressed them against my cheek.
How much more could we suffer? Resentment bubbled up inside me. If only she hadn’t borrowed money! Stupid gambling! But all Mama wanted was to make a better life for us, right? Sure, she made mistakes, some really bad ones. If she felt cheated, then I did too. Cheated out of having a home and a father. Cheated by people who thought we were too stupid and poor to care. Cheated by Lola Fely out of Papa’s savings, which Mama had invested in her business scam. Cheated by Tiger out of the only legacy my father had left us, that could have saved us from starvation. Cheated by Mr. Santiago out of the money that could’ve given Mama a chance to see a doctor.
Mama pulled me onto her shoulder. We cried together for what seemed like hours. “Mama, what are we going to do?”
“I have to talk to Mr. Santiago. Perhaps there was some mistake and he gave me the wrong envelope. He said something to me in the taxi but I don’t remember what it was. Don’t worry, anak, I’ll take care of it when I’m stronger.” Mama’s voice was hoarse from crying. She gave me a weak squeeze around my shoulders and let go.
After I changed her bandages and helped her into some fresh clothes, I went next door and asked Tina if I could boil the eggs on her portable stove. Her grave house happened to have an electric plug. After they were cooked, I gave her a couple and went home. Mama and I shared the porridge and a couple of the bananas and hard-boiled eggs. The bitterness of the lagundi tea made Mama grimace but she drank it with her medicines without complaint. Her skin was still feverish and I wondered how much of the tea she would have to drink to make the fever go away. I wanted to believe that it would be all she needed to get better. But I had a feeling that she would need more.
I remembered when Papa had cut himself while fixing a window and how the cut became swollen and smelly. He went to the doctor at Mama’s insistence and came home with some medicine in a tube that he had to spread on the cut in the morning and again at night. Would Mama need something like that? If she did, then we would need more money. Would Perla give her mother my message? Would Aling Lydia let me work in the bakery like she said she would? Probably not, especially after the way I had behaved. The memory of it made me cringe again and again. There was only one other way for me to make money. I would have to go out and sell my everlasting-daisy garlands. But that would mean leaving Mama alone, and I wasn’t sure I could do that. I took out my bag of flowers, a needle, and some thread. The only noise in the grave house was the rustle of dry petals and Mama’s breathing.
“Papa, can you hear me? I wish you were here. Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do,” I whispered, piercing my needle through daisy after daisy until the chain was long enough to tie the ends together.
I pressed my cheek against the cool cement of my father’s tomb and felt the heat in my face drain away. It calmed me.
The answer came to me then. Lola Mercy had suggested I call my uncle. I lay the garland I had finished down on top of a few others. Inside one of the baskets, I found Mama’s notebook, the one she’d told me not to touch. I glanced at Mama’s face to make sure she was sleeping. The paper squeaked against the wire spirals. The edges of the notebook looked a little warped, and it smelled like wet cardboard. The pages were filled with doodles, addresses, phone numbers, and—a list of her debts. That’s why she didn’t want me to look at this. I stared at the list. The entry at the top was a name I didn’t recognize. Mama had borrowed a hundred pesos and next to it, the date she paid it back. The first few entries were that way. The rest of them had no payback date. The very last name on the list read Tiger/Santiago.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the image from my mind. It didn’t work. The memory of the empty envelope followed it. I flipped to the next page, rustling the paper so hard I was sure Mama would wake up. I ran my finger down the list and found what I had been looking for.
As quietly as possible, I tore a page out from the back of the notebook. Using the pen Mama kept inside the spiral binding, I wrote down Tito Danny’s phone number.
Mama’s face looked serene while she slept, except for the slight crease between her brows—the only sign of her discomfort. I could probably ask Mang Rudy if I could use his cell phone, and then sell a few garlands. I’d be back when she woke up.
I hung my gold-and-pink everlasting-daisy garlands on my arm, the page of notebook paper clutched between my fingers. With my free hand, I drew back the sheet covering the door, glancing one more time at Mama’s sleeping face.
What if she grew weaker instead of stronger? How woul
d I be able to leave her to find work? I could go see Aling Lydia but I wouldn’t be able to face Perla again. There had to be something else I could do, a job I could get, but what? Who would hire a dark skinny girl like me with clothes that screamed “squatter”?
Maybe I should try speaking to Aling Lydia, no matter how embarrassed it made me. The humiliation would be worth it, if it meant that I could take Mama to the doctor. If only I still had Papa’s watch, then at least I would have something to pawn. I stamped my foot, cursing Tiger under my breath.
My toe nudged the bucket where my sweet potato plant grew. Its dry, drooping stems shivered. It had to stay alive and grow. Mama would need this food to get stronger. I watered it and moved it to a spot where it would catch more sunlight.
It was time to go. Out of the corner of my eye, an indistinct shape seemed to hover on the other side of the kulambo that covered Mama. The hair on my neck and arms rose as if a cold breeze brushed against me.
“Papa?” But the shadow continued to hover. My voice came out in strangled whisper. “I know that you watch over us. Please look after Mama when I leave to go out and sell these flowers. And Papa? Please ask God to send us a miracle.”
I looked for the shadow. It was gone. Was it just my imagination? I wanted to believe that it wasn’t.
Hidden behind the Santo Niño was a small bowl holding a short stubby candle. I set it in front of the statue and lit it, mumbling a prayer to make Mama well and to ease Papa’s restless spirit.
After closing the gate, I walked over to Mang Rudy’s grave house to see if he was home. He wasn’t. So I asked Aling Nena to check in on Mama before setting out for the main cemetery gate. It was Friday afternoon. Visitors might be looking for garlands. I had ten of them and I hoped to sell every single one.
Up ahead, Kuya Efren was loading books, paper, and pencils onto his pushcart classroom. He stacked the school supplies on shelves under the chalkboard and began folding his plastic mats. He looked up just as I passed him.
Everlasting Nora Page 12
