When the Elephants Dance (18 page)

I would have followed him, but I noticed the orange blaze of the sun as it descended behind the mountain in the distance. Had I spent my entire day with him? “I have mass tonight,” I blurted.

“Ah, mass.” He studied me. “Do you wonder at times if your prayers are even heard?”

“Sir?” I asked, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

“In church, does it ever seem to you a kind of game? Hypocritical. Be humble, they say, yet people come in their best clothes. Give penance, yet as they close their eyes and kneel, they compare who is better dressed, the beauty of someone else’s wife, the sway of her hips, they think of anything but prayers.”

“I have to go,” I answered.

“Of course.” He bowed his head. “I will see you again.”

I
WAS LATE
for mass. My footsteps echoed to the high ceilings and cupola portraits of angels, and Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. I found our pew. I knelt and made the sign of the cross before entering. The minute I did this, I became disoriented and almost lost my balance. I moved past my brother and stood beside my mother. They were standing and holding the Book of Psalms in their hands. She reached out and pinched my side, just under my arm, and twisted my skin beneath her fingers. I gritted my teeth.

I grew dizzy as the priest raised his hand in the sign of the cross and said his blessings. My ears burned at the words. The benediction seemed louder than normal. My fingers had broken out into a scaly rash. It happened immediately after I had dipped them in the holy water and pressed them to my forehead, my chest, my shoulders, and my lips in the sign of the cross.

When the wine was passed around, I felt a coldness go through my body. I took the goblet from my grandfather, and I knew at that moment something was terribly wrong. I placed the cold edge of the copper to my mouth and took a drink. My throat closed and I began to choke. I spat out the wine and dropped the goblet. A gasp went through the entire church and I ran out the door.

It was worse outside. The vision came to me again, the one of the man running into the water, with terror in his eyes, away from me. “Please,” he begged. The laughter came again, as if it were from my own mouth. “I have no rivals. I share my waters with no one.” What happened next dropped me to my knees. I saw hands, but were they
my
hands? They reached out and pointed to the terrified man. “Eat,” my voice said. And that was when I saw the tribunal, and I realized that the pointing hand was not mine, but Mang Minno’s. I was witnessing what he had done, as if I were in his body. The tribunal surrounded the man, and then in an instant, a hundred fishes attacked him, and the waters ran red.

I screamed and put my hands to my eyes, and the visions fell away. I found myself kneeling in front of the church. The mass was still going on inside. I stumbled away and ran for home. I remembered all the warnings the other fishermen and vendors had given me. “Stay away from him,” they had said. “He is dangerous. He uses black magic.” All the way home I heard Mang Minno’s laughter.

I
WAITED FOR
my parents to return from church. You would have thought the punishment from my father would be so severe that I would not be able to sit for days. Do you know, he was too busy to take the time even to punish me? He had a business meeting that evening; he and my mother went straight to this engagement. I lay in bed wondering at what had happened to me when Roger peeked in.

“Did you swallow the bread?”

I shrugged. He waited at the door a moment. I waited for him to say what it was that was on his mind, but the next sound I heard was the door to his room, shutting behind him.

My grandfather came to me. “You are feeling better?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

“I swallowed the bread,” I lied.

He squinted at me, as if my image had become out of focus for a moment, then he turned and went to his room.

I
LIED ALL
the time after that. I lied to Father Ambrosio about going to confession. I lied about going to school. When I did attend class, I copied from the person in front of me. I exaggerated the truth in order to make a story more engrossing. I became compulsive about lying; I could not stop. I no longer chased my father around, begging for a morsel of his attention. I had someone else whose praise and advice I valued. It did not matter that he frightened me. I distorted the truth from myself.

I
WAS GROWING
closer to Mang Minno and yet more afraid. I brought up the visions that had been plaguing me. “The other evening, I had these images. I saw a man running away from me. But he was not running from me. He was fleeing from you,” I accused Mang Minno.

Mang Minno smiled at me placatingly. “Yes.”

I lost my words. I did not expect him to confess the truth. “You killed him.”

“I allowed you to see that. I meant to test your courage. You have proven yourself, Roman.”

My head spun. I had never received such blatant praise. I relished it. It started at my feet and filled my chest. I forgot about the man and the red water.

“When will you show me how to use your whistle?” I gestured to the bone he had beneath his shirt. He touched his dark hand to the rope that held his talisman. I had grown familiar with the withered leather of his palms and the thick ropes of pale green veins against the dark skin.

He was quiet.

“There is still too much brightness. The eclipse of Agraria falls on All Souls’ Day this year. The darkening comes once every twenty years. This is the only time the amulet can be transferred to the successor. Ten days from now.”

I became excited. All Souls’ Day, also known as Todos los Santos, happened on the evening of October 31. Halloween, they call it in the States.

“I am ready.”

He chuckled. “That is not for you to decide. Do not answer so quickly. This position I hold carries much responsibility. There are three tests you must pass.”

“I will pass them. What are they?”

“You must bring an innocent to witness the proceedings. You must warn them that they may lose something by coming.”

“That is all?”

“You must turn your back on all relations.” He watched me carefully as he said this.

“What is the third?”

“The third is the tribunal’s acceptance and the final transfer itself. Sometimes, even when all three are met, the transfer does not hold.”

“It will hold,” I said with a set of my chin.

He watched me gravely. “It means living in isolation from your friends and family. The more you demand of the fish, the more they demand of your soul.”

I
WENT HOME
that evening in good spirits. I brought two bags of fish and dropped them off at our store. I meant to leave them with our store clerks, but my father was there and he called out to me from the back room.

I sighed, expecting him to reprimand me for leaving the church the other evening.

He hurried up to me, very animated. “Roman, your fish are the talk of the
village. Everyone has come back begging for the same. They claim it is the sweetest fish they have ever tasted. You must gather more.”

“I could show you where I caught them. We could go together,” I offered.

“Oh no, not this week. Next week, perhaps. You know me, I must watch the store. But you must go. You have become a big name.” He regaled me with stories of how the customers were begging for more. That they claimed the fish was unlike any they had ever tasted. “So fresh,” they said. His smile was like a candle that immediately lost its fire. His face wrinkled back into concentration. He opened the cash register and became engrossed in counting his money. I waited, still smiling, not understanding that I had been dismissed. I looked around at our baskets filled with ice and fish. I studied the woven containers overflowing with pineapple, langkâ, kalamansî, and bayabas. All this food that would bring us money, and still he had no time for me. He only had time for making more. I wanted to tip the baskets and crush the fruit. I wanted to take the fish and throw them into the dirt. I chided myself for falling for his enthusiasm. After all Mang Minno had given to me, I was ready to give it all up just to be in my father’s light. And here he was, ignoring me once again.

My mother walked in, her mango-colored slippers flapping against her heel and back onto the floor in lazy fashion. She nodded to me.

“O, bakit náritó ka pa?”
she asked. Why are you still here? “Go home, the store is closed. We could have used your help earlier. There is only the money left to count.” She went to my father and bent down to count with him. I sighed; how easy it would be to turn my back on these people.

T
HE NEXT SEVERAL
days I woke burning, and my hands would not cool until I had touched the waters of the forest. I avoided Grandfather at all costs. He had grown suspicious and watched me like an eagle waiting to swoop up a monkey. He no longer invited me to fish. He spent his days in prayer with his door locked. I had dreams that he stood over me at night, but when I woke, the room would be empty.

O
N THE MORNING
of the eclipse, the day was strange. It was only six, yet the morning was unusually bright. A glare permeated the sky and sucked the color from it. There was no sound, as if the earth were holding its breath in anticipation. My fingers were burning especially hot, and I rushed out the door, thinking, This will be the day. I must not be late. I almost did not recognize her standing there, until she called my name.

“Roman, I have not seen you at school.” Aurora smiled thinly. “You missed my party last night. I saved you some cake.” She held out a tiny brown bag with a pink ribbon laced through the top.

“Thank you.” I reached out and took the bag. She looked pretty in a peach dress with white orchid prints. She wore her sweater around her shoulders, like a cloak, buttoned only at the top, her arms free to hold her books.

“Will you be at school today?”

“If I catch enough fish,” I said distractedly, looking off toward the forest. The eclipse would start at noon, and I had yet to think of a way to bring Roger to the forest, or Eduardo. Either one would do. Both were as innocent as babies.

“I could save you a seat in Mrs. Martinez’s.”

“No, don’t bother.”

She looked down at her books.

“Aurora, I’m a busy person now. Maybe it would be best if you—”

She nodded. “I’ll see you, Roman.” She turned, her body folded inward over her books, and I watched her go.

I was not afraid of her leaving me. I had come to realize that her attraction to me had everything to do with the fish. If I stopped, I would lose her completely. If I continued, she would always be there.

“You’re really becoming a jerk, you know that?” Eduardo came out from behind some bushes. The branches snapped back into place like a whip. The cicadas called shrilly in anger.

“Edo, wonderful. I was going to look for you. Only I’m really in a hurry. I—”

“Don’t have time,” he finished my sentence for me. I had been neglecting him also. “I came to tell you that you missed our presentation together in class. That’s the second time. You also missed your promise to watch over my mama’s booth at the carnival with me.”

I closed my eyes tight. “Eduardo, I have more important—I’ll talk to Mrs. Martinez. I’ll ask her to only mark me for it and not discredit you.”

“She let me make it up. I just came to tell you that I wanted out of the science project we are supposed to do next month. Pepe Barreras and I have already started one together. Find another partner.”

I blinked at him. Eduardo had never told me what to do. He was not one to make such decisions. “Sure,” I told him. “Again, Edo, I am—”

“Sorry. I know.”

“Let me make it up to you. Come with me to the forest today. We can watch the eclipse. I am going to see Mang Minno, and it will be a great adventure. I
must warn you, however, that you may lose a piece of clothing or something important in the process.”

Eduardo looked at me. “Have you not heard anything I have said?”

I opened my mouth and then shut it. I shrugged. “Eduardo, the forest.”

He waved away my answer and turned to go.

I looked around in frustration. I needed to find my brother. He was my last chance, though I suspected he too would be unwilling. We had never been great friends. I almost expected Grandfather to drop from the sky to lecture me, but I knew he was still at home. I had seen him myself when I passed his room.

He was up early with candles lit, praying on his little altar. He was on his knees, holding his crucifix in his hand, when I left the house. He was probably praying for my grandmother. He did that during their anniversaries. When I say anniversaries, I mean they did not have just the one day when they were married. He honored the anniversary of their first meeting, the anniversary of their first Christmas, the anniversary of their first kiss, and the anniversary of her death, as well as the birthdays of each of their children.

I walked toward the forest without fear; it felt like home to me. My instincts had grown acute; within seconds I knew someone was following me. I disappeared into a shade of trees, and as the forest filled with water, I jumped out in front of my stalker.

Roger stood with eyes large and terrified. He looked at me, then back at the ground, where the water was now up to his thighs. “Roman, there’s a tidal wave c-coming,” he stuttered.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing? Did Grandfather send you?” I was annoyed, because I had not invited him, as Mang Minno instructed.

Roger looked at me. “Roman, do you not see the water?”

“Of course I see the water. It is because of me the water has become like this.”

“What are you saying? Are you mad? Let us go.” He grabbed my arm and took a few steps before he realized nothing looked familiar to him. “Roman!” he shouted desperately. “Where are we?”

“Let me go.” I shook my arm free. “You’re acting like a fool. Mang Minno will think my family is made up of idiots. He already knows I have a father who does not keep promises.”

“So Grandfather was right. You do know this man. He is evil, Roman. He has no soul. Here, wear this.” Roger took a leather necklace with an image of a saint from his pocket and tried to put it over my head.