The Hermit

Author’s Note: Okay, this story is set in the Philippines, during the time when the Philippines was a Spanish colony. And so, the Spaniards treated the Filipinos like dirt, and the Filipinos hated the Spaniards. It’s not like that anymore, of course.

Chapter 1

Magandang araw po sa inyo.[1]  I’m Miguel, and I am 11 years old.  My story begins on a day that didn’t seem very different from all the others.  Breakfast has become a really unpleasant time for my mother and me ever since my stepfather came.  My stepfather is a drunkard who is always irritable in the morning because of his headaches.  I hope that the alcohol he drinks every night kills him, because he beats up my mother when she refuses to give him money to buy beer.

 In the afternoon we have some peace because he is off working.  It was at that time that she came.  By ‘she’ I mean a Spanish girl named Carmina.  She had long yellow hair, blue eyes, a pointed nose that seemed to live in the air, and a firm line meant to be a mouth.  I have to admit she was pretty, but she would have been prettier if she’d smile a little.

My mother and I were weaving baskets by the roadside when she came

marching along.  She was a strange sight.  She looked as though she belonged more in a carriage than walking on a dusty road, and had the air of a noble.  She carried a slightly large cloth bundle.

Anyway, she went right up to us and asked how much one of the larger baskets were.

“Ano, ten pesos, Senorita,” replied my mother, looking a little taken aback.

“I see,” said the girl. “By the way, Manang[2], would you have any food to spare?”

“There is a banana grove not very far from here.  Miguel, why don’t you go get some?”

“Opo, Inay[3],” I kissed my mother on the cheek and ran off to get the bananas.

When I got back, the girl was washing her feet in a tub of hot water and the cloth bundle was stuffed inside a basket that had straps on it so that the girl might bear her load on her back instead of lugging it around.

“Perhaps you might stay the night here,” my mother offered. “But I must warn you, my husband will want your money to buy beer.  You must hide from him in my son’s room.  It is the only room he seldom enters.”

That’s true, I thought dryly.  That’s because he loathes me, treats me like dirt.

“Thank you,” said the girl.  However, she eyed me warily.

“Don’t worry, my son will not bother you,” my mother said. “By the way, hija[4], what is your name?”

“Carmina Santiago,” replied the girl.

“I’m Miguel Katigbak,” I said. “I can sleep on the roof if you like,” I added half sarcastically.

“No,” said Carmina, taking no notice of my tone. “I wouldn’t have you picked to death by aswangs[5].”

Another surprise.  Most Spaniards dismissed such things as aswangs as pagan.

**********

“Give me the money!” my stepfather yelled.

My mother said nothing but sat there, staring up at him with fear in her eyes.

“Where have you hidden it?!” the man demanded.

When my mother gave no answer, he began calling her things that made my blood boil.

I stood there in the doorway, my fists clenched.  I’d go to my room, but I’d still be able to hear him yelling anyway.

Every night my mother goes through this, I thought angrily. Every night the neighbors hear my mother crying.   Every night everyone can hear this – this lowlife polluting the air with his nasty breath.

My stepfather knocked a chair down.  And when he hit her, something in me burst.  It must have been all those nights of suppressed anger that welled up inside me.

“GET AWAY FROM MY MOTHER!” I yelled. “GET OUT OF HERE!  You don’t deserve her at all, you nasty drunkard!  You’re too lazy to get a better job, and you don’t deserve that money!  You’re just going to waste it on your precious beer anyway!”

I had to stop, for I had run out of breath.

There is no describing the rage on my stepfather’s face.  And I won’t describe how he beat me up either.

When I limped into my room with a bloody nose and bruises all over my body, there was Carmina lying in my bed.  She sat up and said to me, “That must have really hurt.”

“You heard?” I asked, and she nodded.

“You know,” she said, “the reason I’m here is because I ran away from home. My yaya[6] told me about a hermit who has the ability to grant wishes. She said I would find him in an island off the coast of Sorsogon.”

“So?” I said wearily.

“Think about it,” she said. “Your stepfather’s a drunkard.  Maybe the hermit can change that.”

I stared at her.  That was true. But…

“How could I leave my mother?” I asked. “For all I know, one day my

stepfather will end up killing her.”

“That’s a risk you’ll have to take,” Carmina replied shortly.

Honestly, I thought.  Doesn’t this girl have any sympathy at all?

“But wait a minute,” I said. “What’s the catch?”

“I could use someone who knows how to climb trees for food,” she said. “I hope, however, that you don’t have any lice and can keep yourself clean.”

You make me sound like a monkey.  “All right, then,” I said hesitantly.  After all, who knew whether this hermit was real?  Was it worth leaving my mother with that man?

“You don’t sound sure,” Carmina told me.  Without another word, she turned over in her sleep.

“I wonder if it’s worth going with someone like you,” I muttered under my breath.

“I heard that,” said Carmina’s muffled voice.

“Maybe it’s because your ears are so big,” I replied, though her ears weren’t big at all.  I don’t know whether she heard that or not, because she made no reply.

My mother had laid an extra blanket and pillow on the floor.  I took both and slept at the other side of the room.

It seemed I’d been asleep for only five minutes when I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.

“Get away from my mother,” I mumbled, turning over on my pillow.

“Are you coming with me or not?” a voice asked sharply.

Suddenly I was awake, and I remembered everything.  I opened my eyes and saw Carmina standing over me, fully dressed.

“I’m coming,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Would I say I was coming if I wasn’t sure?  But then again, if I’m sure then I must also be insane.”

“Get up, lazybones.”

When I got up, she said frankly, “You remind me of a banana that’s full of pasa[7].”

“Yeah, yeah,” I answered.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Carmina said, throwing her basket out the window.

Then her head disappeared as she climbed out of my room and into an ant’s nest.

“Santa Maria!”

“Ay! I guess I forgot to tell you about the colony of ants that’s been there since yesterday.” I grinned as I took my clothes and stuffed them into a sack.

I jumped out the window then hurried out of the area where the ants were raging in their search for whoever had stepped on their nest.

Carmina glared at me, then said, “I suppose we’ll be following the road.”

“Do you have any idea at all where we’re going?” I asked skeptically.

“My yaya said to follow the main road out of Intramuros and follow it all the way till you end up in Sorsogon.”

And so we were off.  We didn’t talk much, and in the afternoon we ate fish that I had caught in a stream.

Later on, when we were in a forest, a wood nymph spotted us and asked,

“Children, what are you doing here all by yourselves?”

“We are going to Sorsogon,” said Carmina. “We have heard of a hermit who could grant wishes, and so we decided to look for him.”

“You are on the right track, but there are many shortcuts you might take that will make your journey faster,” said the wood nymph. “I could give you a horse that will know where to go and is very easy to handle.  You only need to let him lead you.”

“And what must we give you in return?” I asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” said the wood nymph, smiling. “I can tell that your story will be interesting, and after my horse has brought you home, he will tell me all that has occurred.”

“That is all? You are not fooling us?” Carmina said, glaring at her.

“Yes,” replied the wood nymph. “Matulin!” she called.

A pure white horse came out of the woods, saying, “Yes, I believe your story will be an interesting one.”

“A talking horse?” I said incredulously.

“Of course,” said Carmina matter-of-factly. “What else might you expect from a wood nymph?”

“Indeed, children,” said Matulin. For a magic horse, he had a pretty sensible-sounding voice. “Now climb up on my back and we will be going.”

No sooner had I so much as touched  Matulin than I found myself on his back.

Carmina also looked slightly dazed when she was able to hop on and fit herself behind me at the first attempt without any help.

“Hold on to me with your legs,” intructed Matulin. “And please try to not to pull my hair.”

Once we both had a firm hold on Matulin, he started off at a slow trot.

“Goodbye, and good luck, children!” the wood nymph called.

It was a bit harder staying on than getting on.  Riding on the horse at a slow trot was one thing, but riding on him at a fast trot was another.  We fell off about ten times a day, making things very tedious.  Every time I lost my grip, I’d drag Carmina down with me, since she was holding on to my waist.  And it was the same thing with Carmina.

“Honestly, my back wouldn’t be so sore if you didn’t fall every two minutes,” Carmina said irritably.

“Oh, like you down drag me down with you every 5 seconds!” I retorted.

“I do not!” Carmina protested.

“Dream on, Prinsesa[8],” I replied.

“All right, all right,” said Matulin. “You are both learning to ride, and you can’t expect to become experts right away.  And a little patience wouldn’t hurt.”

“I know that, but I’m not so sure if she does,” I grumbled.

“I heard that!”

“Hail Carmina the Sharp-Eared!  Kay tulis ng kanyang mga tenga, baka may

masugatan siya[9]!” I said in a mocking voice.

“That’s enough,” Matulin interrupted. “Miguel, you sleep over there, Carmina, you sleep over there, and keep quiet.  You may come back to the fire when you’re sure you’re in a peaceful mood.”

As we sat on opposite sides of the background, we could both hear Matulin singing,

 

“Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.  Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be.  With God as our Father, let there be peace.  Let me walk with my brothers in perfect harmony…”

“I get the point, I get the point,” I muttered as I drifted off to sleep.

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[1] Good morning to you

[2] Manang is what you call old people aside from your relatives as a sign of respect.

[3] Yes, Mom

[4] Kind of like saying ‘lass’

[5] A monster in Filipino folktales. Looks like a hag, with wings, and has a tubelike tongue to suck out people’s guts while they’re sleeping. A lot of Filipinos in the provinces believe they’re real.

[6] nanny

[7] bruise; I don’t know about other countries, but in the Philippines bananas get knocked around a lot in trucks, so it’s hard to find a banana that isn’t squashed and soft and brownish in one or two places.

[8] Princess

[9] Her ears are so sharp she might cut someone!

Sorry about all the footnotes, but I felt that the story wouldn’t be the same without all the Filipino words and phrases. So…please review!!!