When the Elephants Dance (44 page)

Mang Damasaw watched me curiously. “Alicia,” he called to his wife, who was sitting at the dinner table. The table was cleared, and on it was a candle lit with a picture of a young girl of no more than six or seven years old. The mother had a spirit board laid out.

“You have been using this?” I asked her.

She nodded silently. “It does not work.”

I looked at her in astonishment. I looked to Damasaw.

“I have told her to stop this nonsense. I have not been able to sleep from worry over her. Please tell her it is complete foolishness. An old woman told her it would call our daughter’s spirit back. She died several weeks ago. She fell from a tree.”

I was thinking of a way to explain to them when the spirits all crowded around me.

“What idiots. Tell them!” shouted the woman with the frying pan.

“Yes, tell them.” Two farmers prodded me with rakes.

“Quiet, I cannot concentrate. Leave me. You are free to go.”

Mang Damasaw and my father looked at me in shock, then left the room quietly.

“Thank goodness,” the spirits echoed. They lined up and walked through the door one by one.

I sat across from Aling Alicia. “This is a very dangerous thing you do. What is it you wish to accomplish?” It angered me. “Your child is in danger of losing her way from your selfishness.”

“I want to speak to my baby.”

From the corner of my eye a young girl stepped out. Her energy was sickly, fading.

“What do you wish to say to her?”

“That I am sorry I was not there to catch her.”

“Come …” I urged the child forward.

“Mama is sad. I cannot leave,” she said in a small voice.

The moment she spoke, the woman began to shake. “She is here. A mother knows these things. I smell her powder.”

“She has always been here. You need to set her free. I have seen this before. When the spirits are tied to the living, they are in jeopardy of losing their guides and being trapped in limbo. Is that how you wish to comfort her?”

“No,” the woman sobbed.

The child sat on Alicia’s lap and laid her head against her chest. “I am sorry, Mama,” the child whispered. “Please let go.”

“My darling,” Alicia sobbed at hearing her daughter’s voice. “It is I who am sorry.” She covered her mouth as the little girl slowly let go.

The child took my hand and looked up at me.

“Go now. Catch your train before it leaves.”

“S
ON
 …” M
Y FATHER
stood holding out a cup of coffee to me. I had fallen asleep at our kitchen table.

I took the cup, trying to make sense of the time by the fading light.

“I would not trouble you, I know you are very tired, but Claro Cardizon came to visit while you slept.”

“That old gambler? He knows I cannot read cards for him. It does not work that way. He comes every time he has a bad streak. He is just
malas
, and I cannot change that. Each time I tell him the same thing. I can only see spirits, not which way his luck will turn. He will just have to wait it out.”

My father chuckled. “Yes, even I know that, but he thinks his bad luck is because of a new player. He believes the man to have bad magic. Will you do me this favor, son?”

“Of course, Papa.”

“Ay salamat
, son,” he thanked me. “You know I would not ask.”

“I know, Pa.” I clapped him on the back and reached for my coat.

“S
O WAS
A
DDIE
upset at not being included in our little outing?” Pidring asked before we walked into the card game.

“Well …” I shrugged. “She knows there will only be men here gambling tonight, except for Mrs. Cardizon, but she is the hostess.”

“Tell me again who this man is supposed to be,” Pidring said.

“Old Mang Claro thinks one of his players uses black magic to win.”

“He is
malas
again?” Pidring shook his head. “Why can he not just accept the bad streak? Why create these fantastic stories?”

I smiled. “Let us make the best of it. Maybe we can play a hand.”

When we entered the house, I found the threshold to be resistant to me.

“What is it, Ped? Another ghost?” Pidring joked, his face paling.

“Maybe, maybe,” I said.

“Pedro …” Mang Claro came and shook my hand. I felt fear and desperation pass between us. As I studied Mang Claro, my heart became excited.

“Pedro is here,” he called out to the room.

“And Pidring,” I said.

“Eh?” Mang Claro asked.

“Pidring has accompanied me.”

“He has brought a friend,” Mang Claro announced.

I grinned at Pidring.

M
ANG
C
LARO TOOK
us aside and whispered, “He is playing with the children. I do not care about the bad luck, that will pass. Just make him leave.”

I clasped his hand. The old man was shaking.

“Here they are.” Mang Claro ushered us into the room and introduced us to the players. He did not have to tell me which one was the man, for when I walked into the room the man’s energy revealed itself to me in a green fog around him. I had never seen anything like it; it was so strong.

I stared immediately at the man, and Mang Claro secretly made the sign of the cross. “This is Mang Fausto Tarluc.”

The man was my father’s age. He wore a dark suit, and he had a bald head, dented in small places like a bruised bayabas fruit.

“Fausto, this is our neighbor Pedro.”

The man stopped playing with the children. He had been showing them how to tie an unbreakable knot.

“I know that trick.” Pidring rocked back on his heels.

“Oh?” Mang Fausto asked. “Shall I try it on you? Give me your hands.”

“No, no.” Pidring shook his head, oblivious to the danger. “Show my friend. Ped, have you seen this one yet? He will tie a loose knot, but you will be unable to break it.”

I knew the technique as well; it was an old magician’s trick.

“Oh, you try?” Fausto asked.

“All right.” I held my wrists together, and I saw that he whispered something before he started to tie the knot. So I said a simple prayer.

The rope would not tie, and the other players in the room laughed.

Fausto tried again, and still nothing. He stopped suddenly and looked deeply at me. “Where are you from?”

“I grew up here,” I told him.

He closed his eyes, not long enough for anyone to notice, but longer than a blink. I felt a coldness pass through me.

“What a joker you are.” He smiled strangely. “I was only playing with the children, but you think to embarrass me.”

“Watch what you say,” Pidring ordered.

I stepped between them. “You are right, I am a joker. It was wrong of me. Let me get you a drink, friend.” He bowed curtly and we stepped away from the others. “What do you want with this family?” I asked.

“I like this view, I like this house, the location.”

He was bold. I did not think he would speak so plainly. “I must ask you to leave,” I said.

His body convulsed at my request, a quick intake of breath that unsteadied him.

“You should not have interfered.” He glared at me. “Mang Claro,” he called.

“Ha?” old Mang Claro asked timidly from the hallway.

“I must go now, but you should have thought of this boy’s family before you called him here.”

Mang Claro was speechless, and I clenched my fists. “Do not even try it.”

Fausto laughed. “Ah, but it is you who has invited me to this dance.”

I
WAS NOT
concerned; many spirits had threatened me with retribution, and it had come to nothing. It was only later, when Father had not caught any fish in over a week, not even the smallest
dilis
, and Addie was having the most horrible nightmares, that I knew Fausto’s threat was now being acted out upon my family. I woke one night to go to Addie’s room and there was this large wasp the size of a cantaloupe, transparent and hovering over her. I told it to leave, and it flew past me. The following night it was back again.

It went like this for many evenings, until I decided it was time to speak to Diagos. I hated to trouble him, but I was concerned for Addie. I waited until it was twilight time and then I went to the forest.

I checked behind me every now and then as I started into the jungle, for I
knew Diagos would not show if anyone followed. The big-eyed monkeys were creeping out of their morning hiding places, their curly tails unwinding and hanging down like vines. They peered at me, gripping the branches with their long, froglike fingers. They made me smile whenever I saw them. Their eyes were tremendous in size, so they always appeared as if they had just heard the most shocking news. I was careful where I stepped, threading my bare feet in between the celery pine and the magical four-inch walking leaves that floated down from the trees and walked away.

More important, I made way for the little
duendes
. Tiny elves they were, the size of a cup, some with wings on their wrists and ankles, some behind their ears. They stared silently at me as I walked. They were small, but they were fearless, and God help you if you hurt any one of their flock. The females wore iridescent robes of green and gold and had colorful hair that blended with their long, birdlike tails. The males were covered from the waist down with fur.

As I told you, I saw things that no normal person ever did. I saw these little people often, and they became no more strange to me than walking next to Pidring or Addie. I walked deep into the forest to where the grass grew taller than me and the tall coconut trees grew in thick clumps. Soon I heard the familiar sound of horse hooves and I knew that my friend was near.

Then, as always happened when he was near, a certain tension filled the air. As if the texture of it were enhanced somehow. The birds and the crickets sang a different tune, magnified, yet at the same time, they listened.

“Why have you waited this long?” a voice said behind me.

I turned and bowed before the creature. His name is Diagos; he is one of four of his kind, and after them no more were created. He is immortal, and he is known as a
tikbalang
. He is larger than any horse you could ever imagine. He is the exact form of a horse except for his eyes, which are positioned in front and blue, with the white like ours. He is larger even than the ones known abroad as Clydesdales, twice as big. When he sits, he sits on his haunches, with his back vertical, in much the way a human does. His hind legs are tucked inward and reach the middle of his torso, in the way a human pulls in his legs. His forelegs fold so that they touch like elbows to knees. That is the only way I can explain it. I asked him once if he had magical powers and if others could see him.

“I am Diagos. Only the humble and the purest can see me. My powers are that of a watcher. My brothers and I cannot interfere, until the hour when He calls upon us. Then there is much that will be poured out upon this earth. So it is written.”

He always spoke in riddles.

“Why have you waited so long?” he asked again.

“I did not wish to bother you.”

“You were vain. You thought you were strong enough to match this man.”

I bowed my head.

“It is true, as you see; he could not trouble your sleep, but the others are not blessed as you.”

“Addie cannot sleep, and Papa cannot catch even a stone from the river.”

He sighed, and the entire jungle seemed to breathe with him. The sound resounded to the tops of the trees and below the earth.

“Leave him to me.”

“I thought you could not interfere.”

“I cannot use my powers. But my presence will mean other things to him.”

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Human like you, but one who has promised much to his master in order to gain what he believes is power. He will later find it to be a weight that will drag him down. Woe to he who does not meet what he hath given oath to. That is all you need know. Ask what else you please.”

“Aling Frances’s daughter is sick.”

“Pick the red flowers with the blue eternal flame, crush them, and they will ease her stomach.”

“And the Riveros’s boy?”

“It is his time.”

“Can nothing be done? He is their only child.”

“It is his time.”

I was quiet. It was news I hated to bring. “He is all they have.”

“They will have even less, and then it will be the wife’s time. That is all that is recorded for them in this life.”

I nodded.

“There is something else,” Diagos said.

“Nothing, a girl.”

“She is not for you.”

“They live so well. To see my father in such clothes. Their food.”

“It is temporary, fleeting.”

“I would trade my gift for what they have.”

“Misery and gold?” Diagos watched me.

T
HAT NIGHT A
storm came and Addie tried in vain to stay awake, though I told her she would sleep well from then on. When she fell asleep, I heard a
strong flapping in the wind, like the wings of a giant beast, and then the sound of a hundred horses thundering around the area. Our neighbors screamed and shut their windows. I peered outside, and there was Diagos positioned in front of our door, though only I could see him.

Then, from far away, I saw Fausto approach. He rode on a green fog in the shape of a large serpent. When I looked again, Diagos was gone and I was angry. He had fled in fear. The serpent came and enveloped our house. It was difficult to breathe. Addie was struggling for breath, trapped in a nightmare I could not shake her from. I shouted for him to stop, but Fausto continued to my parents’ room. I will lose them, I thought.

“Yes,” Fausto sneered. “They are weak, they cannot refuse me.”

I ran to Addie and held her hand, but nothing changed. “Diagos!” I shouted. No one answered. “God help me,” I cried.

And as Fausto’s laughter filled the house, a voice like thunder roared, “Fausto Tarluc, come forth from this house.”

Fausto hurried to the front. “Who dares challenge me?”

“The Four Horses, of He who sits on high,” answered the voice.

I ran outside and my heart swelled. Diagos stood to the left of our house, his blue eyes pale, like the morning sky. He wore across his chest a gold band. On it, engraved in flame, were words I could not read.