Moon Over Mantawihan
By Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan

Biyatilis, she had nicknamed him then, when his body had resembled the tall straight tree that people usually cut down for firewood.

"It's sturdy enough to cross the Tañon in a storm," he boasted.

"I'll take your word for it," she said while she held on tightly to the sides of the boat. She had possessed a fear of riding in light sea craft ever since she was twelve, when her father's boat had disappeared in a sudden squall. He knew about her phobia and had endeavored to cure her of it, ever since they had become close friends in high school. Now, fifteen years later, he finally got her to ride the Mantaga, a ten-foot fishing boat with bamboo outriggers. Building it had taken him the better part of a year.

"You know I wouldn't be in this thing if you weren't a licensed marine engineer," she said as she watched him paddling, taking the boat downriver, the nipa palms on either side of them like cadets presenting arms.

She looked straight at him when she spoke, but every now and then, when she thought he was not looking, her eyes would take in his arms that were no longer as puny as they had been when they first met. Biyatilis, she had nicknamed him then, when his body had resembled the tall straight tree that people usually cut down for firewood. Now she called him by his real name, Daniel, the stress on the first syllable. Dan, occasionally. Never Danny, which was what his other friends called him, accent on the second.

"The committee didn't think you'd show up, you know," he said. "You never did in the past years we held a class reunion. What made you come this time?"

"I just never had the opportunity like I did now. With George off to Munich for the next five months—"

"Why didn't you go with him?"

"The travel order does not cover the inclusion of a spouse," she said, as if quoting from an office memo. "Besides, if I had gone with him you wouldn't have a crash test dummy."

"A sink test dummy, you mean," he said, but he saw her face clouding over and realized his mistake. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Everyone had been too busy at the moment to recognize her. She knew she no longer looked very much like the girl who had graduated from high school ten years ago.

She sighed and smiled. "You know, I still miss my father. I dream about him sometimes, people running about by the beach saying he's finally come back, safe. My mother staring out into the sea, waiting for him to return. She was never the same person after he disappeared." She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to rid herself of the memories, then immediately regretted the action because the boat began to rock. She clung to the sides tighter than before.

"Your knuckles are turning white," he observed. "Relax. Everything's going to be fine."

He had told her the same thing yesterday, when she turned up at the St. Anthony's Academy campus looking as if she had made a mistake in coming to the reunion. Everyone had been too busy at the moment to recognize her. She knew she no longer looked very much like the girl who had graduated from high school ten years ago. Daniel had turned away from an old teacher he was talking to, and approached her with a smile that threatened to break his jaws.

"Laura." He was the only one she knew who spoke her name that way, Law-ra. He took her hand and squeezed it, then guided her to the registration desk, dictated her full married name to the girl in-charge. "Mrs. Laura Allego Donnelly, that's Dee-oh-double-en-ee-double-el-why." He had taken a pink alumna ribbon from the table and started to pin it on her dress when she realized his hand was shaking. "You still hate pink?" she heard him saying over the loud music. "Not much I can do about it, you see, it's blue for us guys, pink for you girls, and red for the faculty. I guess I should have made a special green one for you, but then everyone will ask you what it means and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"It's good to see you too, Daniel," she laughed. "Why are you so nervous?"

"Nervous? What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"You haven't changed at all. Your hand is shaking and you're talking too much and too loudly. You're nervous all right."

"Where's your husband? Isn't he here with you?"

"No, he isn't. George is on a business trip in Germany."

Laura found herself wishing she had put on something more elaborate, but she had felt most comfortable in the blue button-down blouse and white calf-length flared skirt she had decided to wear. She had made all the other women seem overdressed.

"There," he patted the ribbon with his finger. He held up a steady hand in front of her. "See? I'm not nervous anymore."

He steered her toward the crowd in the middle of the room. Some people were turning their heads, wondering who she was. She recognized a few of them, but she was afraid to smile or wave because they might not smile and wave back. They smiled easily at Daniel who lived near the school and had faithfully attended all the reunions. But then they'd look at her again, some faces curious, some blank. Laura found herself wishing she had put on something more elaborate, but she had felt most comfortable in the blue button-down blouse and white calf-length flared skirt she had decided to wear. She had made all the other women seem overdressed.

"I feel like an animal in a zoo," she said softly. Daniel knew that tone; when she was frightened or apprehensive her voice would diminish into a near whisper. When she was in real trouble she wouldn't say anything at all.

"Relax," he told her. "Everything's going to be fine."

A few of the alumnae finally recognized her, after Daniel had reintroduced her around. The teachers were most happy to see her again, telling her how much she had changed, chiding her for not attending the previous reunions. Some old classmates noted how lady-like she looked now, compared to those years when she'd show up in school wearing her older brother Oscar's discarded denims under her skirt. After her father disappeared, she was never one to hang out with the girls. She had preferred getting up before dawn so she could go off with Oscar to Marmol to catch uwang, river crayfish, for the midday meal.

Daniel stayed with her all the time, through the innumerable speeches by the administration people and a congressman who was also an alumnus, even through the buffet dinner where she hardly ate anything. There was to be dancing afterwards, but Laura had begged off saying she had to get home before midnight or risk being locked out by her brother, with whom she was staying. Despite her protests Daniel walked her home.

She listened to him talk about his work at the pier. How he had opted to go back to live in Tuburan after he got his license. The pay wasn't much and the work was nothing anyone with a basic knowledge of ship's engines couldn't do. But he had stayed single despite pressure from his relatives to change his civil status, and what he was earning was more than enough for himself and his mother.

"Mama would love to see you," he told her. "Maybe you could visit her before you go back to the big city."

"Tomorrow. I'll go see her tomorrow," she promised.

"After that I'll have a surprise ready for you."

"Will you be going back to the party?" she asked him when they reached the gates to her brother's house.

"No, I think I'll go home myself. Unless you'd rather I stayed so you can tell me all about you and your husband, what's-his-name—"

Oscar had married a girl from a neighboring town. Hardly a year after Alberto was born he had caught her in a compromising situation with another man. He all but hacked both of them to death.

"George."

"Yes, George."

"He's in Munich," she said, almost to herself. "Why do I feel I need to keep telling myself that?"

"Why indeed?" he mused, half-smiling. "See you tomorrow, Mrs. Laura Allego Donnelly." He turned and walked away, leaving her by the gate.

Her brother Oscar was still awake when she came into the house, his son Alberto asleep on the bamboo sofa so she could have his room.

"Who was that who brought you home?" her brother asked her.

"Daniel Ligaray."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"People saw you?"

"I suppose."

"Best not to let that happen again, Orang. People will talk. You know that."

"Yes, Manoy Oscar."

"Think of what your husband would say if he found out."

"Yes, Manoy."

"I don't want your reputation tarnished."

She said nothing.

"I'm only after your well-being, Orang. It's enough that I had to go through what I did. I wouldn't wish it on any other man."

It had been the barrio's biggest scandal. Oscar had married a girl from a neighboring town. Hardly a year after Alberto was born he had caught her in a compromising situation with another man. He all but hacked both of them to death. The illicit lovers escaped but Oscar, with an infant son to rear, did not go to prison.

"I could have made you come back to help me raise Alberto, but I did not. You found your own good luck in the city. Do not ruin it."

When he was through she went upstairs, to sleep and the disturbing dreams that always came with it.

"You've changed so much, Laura.”

She raised her head and saw that Daniel had placed the paddle on his lap and was looking at her curiously.

"Have I?"

"You're very quiet now. And you've hardly said a word about your husband."

"I gave your mother a detailed update, but you weren't there, so. What do you want to know?"

“I don't want to pry—”

"Good."

On moonlit nights after her mother had fallen asleep she would sit with 'Nang Paring who would tell her about the mountain denizens who were dili ingon nato, spirits that inhabited the forests and the river banks.

"How do you like what they did at Mantawihan?" he said. "Neat, don't you think?" He was referring to the spring which was the source of the rivulet they had come out of. Years ago a few former residents who had made good in the city had pooled their resources and constructed a ten-foot-high breakwater surrounding the tubod, turning the shallows into a fresh-water swimming pool at low tide, and a virtual aquarium when the tide came in.

"I think it's a great idea," she said, perking up. "But what about the mantágà?"

"No one's seen it for years," he said, not believing the myth himself.

It was Manang Amparo, Daniel's mother, who had told her about the mantágà when Laura was a fatherless girl of twelve. Laura's own mother had suffered what city people would call a nervous breakdown after her father was lost at sea. On moonlit nights after her mother had fallen asleep she would sit with 'Nang Paring who would tell her about the mountain denizens who were dili ingon nato, spirits that inhabited the forests and the river banks. It was from her that Laura learned about the mantágà and its notoriety.

"The mantágà is a sea creature that lives in a cave in Mantawihan, its head the size of a cow, and each of its three limbs as thick as the trunk of a tree. It comes out only on moonless nights, to stalk whatever prey is nearby. Although no one has actually seen it, it's held responsible for the disappearance of several animals pastured near its cave by the spring. It's also believed to have devoured a child who went swimming there alone."

"Whose child?" the young Laura asked.

"The infant son of a fisherman who had just moved there," Nang Paring replied. "He moved his family away after it happened. The owners of the animals that disappeared got together one day and poured a bottle of poison, an entire gallon of Malathion, by the entrance to the cave. A few days later, the mantágà abandoned the cave during a storm, and with its remaining strength swam out to sea to die. From then on there were no more disappearances. Still, you shouldn't bathe there alone."

"But why, Nang Paring?"

"Because some people believe that it merely retreated deeper into its cave and is slowly recuperating. Still other people believe it did go out with the tide, but that its mate is still in the cave and is just waiting for the right moment to come out."

It was an older Nang Paring that Laura saw that morning. The past ten years had not been kind to her. It seemed like most of the spirit and substance had been drained from her body and somehow transferred to her son, who had pressed her hand to his forehead before he left her and Laura as soon as the latter arrived. But her mind was alert as it had ever been, and she motioned Laura to sit beside her on the wooden sofa by the window.

"I have seen all the doctors," the old woman answered the question in her eyes. "They give me medicine to make me sleep. They give me medicine to make the pain go away. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't."

"I didn't have to work anymore. George shouldered my school expenses, and as soon as it was possible we were married. I never lack for anything. The only thing that might make me happier is the one thing I can't have—a child..."

Then she smiled, bent forward and took Laura's hand in hers. "But you see, I cannot die. Who will take care of my Daniel?"

Laura smiled back. "It is so good to see you again, Manang Paring."

"So tell me about this husband of yours. What does he look like? Where did you meet?"

Laura had gone to Cebu City to work and to send herself to school. When they met she was in her second year, and George Donnelly a widowed Irish-American businessman on vacation. He was a frequent customer in the coffee shop where Laura worked as a waitress for her tuition. She spoke good English, he noticed. The first time he asked her out for a date she almost laughed, he was twice her age and even more than that in size.

He persisted, she relented. When he asked her to marry him she said "yes."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she reasoned. "I didn't have to work anymore. George shouldered my school expenses, and as soon as it was possible we were married. I never lack for anything. The only thing that might make me happier is the one thing I can't have—a child.

"I wanted so much to work again," she said. "But George made it clear that it would be more to his liking if I stayed home and looked after him. He takes me wherever his job takes him, it's just that this time it was better that I stayed behind. And a good thing too because I got to see you."

"Your brother doesn't say much when we ask him about you, but that's Oscar for you."

"I write him, you know, at least once a month. But as you say, that's the way he is." Laura laughed as she remembered what Daniel had said the night before. "Daniel said he had a surprise for me this morning, but I have no idea what it might be."

"He is a good boy, my Daniel," Nang Paring said. "No matter what people might say, he is a good boy."

"What do you mean? What are people saying?"

"A friend of his asked for him and two other men to work on an inter-island ship. But he didn't want to leave me alone here, so he sent three of his co-workers instead. For a few months they sent no word to their families. Then much later we learned that two of them died when their ship caught fire. They said the third survived, but no one has heard from him since. Their families do not say anything to me, but I can tell from their eyes that they blame my son."

Laura bent forward and embraced the old woman. "Don't worry. We know he is not to blame. We know that it is so and that's what's important."

"If you two are done with your drama—" Daniel's voice came from the doorway "—I am ready with my surprise."

Laura kissed the old woman's cheek and wiped the tears from her own eyes before she turned to face him. He was smiling at her but when he saw the redness in her eyes he frowned.

"Tears so early in the morning," he said so only she could hear. "I hope my surprise clears your eyes."

Daniel was always at the head of the class and Laura at the tail end, and he would tutor her in exchange for guided hikes through the mountains. She always got into trouble with her brother for that...

And at first it did. He had whipped the tarpaulin off the Mantaga like a magician's cloak then stood back and watched her admire its sleek electric blue lines. She asked him how long it had taken to make. But when he offered her a ride she balked.

"No way."

"You scared?"

"You bet."

"The weather's fine! The sea is calm! I'm driving!"

"No."

"See the basket in there? It's got siakoy and butong and hot cocoa in a thermos. How long has it been since you had all three?"

"Ages." She smiled hesitantly. "We can picnic right here."

"Nonsense. Remember that uphill race we had in Dau when we were kids?"

"Clearly. I beat you by a mile."

"And you can't lift one foot to step into the handsomest fishing boat in all of Tuburan."

"My brother told me not to be seen alone with you. He said people might talk. You know."

"Prim and proper Laura. I miss the girl who used to beat me at anything. I'm going home."

She stood wide-eyed, distressed at his retreat.

"Daniel, wait!"

At noon, adrift on the Tañon, they opened the picnic basket. They talked about their high school capers, those times when Daniel was always at the head of the class and Laura at the tail end, and he would tutor her in exchange for guided hikes through the mountains. She always got into trouble with her brother for that, because Oscar thought it was unseemly for a girl her age to be traipsing around the mountains alone with a boy. Which was why he had gathered his meager resources and packed her off to the city to work. There had been just enough money to get her settled, and to alleviate her restlessness she had enrolled herself at the state college. With school and her work she had no time to go home for vacations, and Oscar had preferred it that way. The owner of the ship he was working on had sent Daniel on a scholarship to Manila. Daniel always came directly home whenever he could.

They were passing by the cemetery now. The current had almost taken them past it when Daniel asked if she wanted to go there. She nodded.

She said a silent prayer as they stood in front of her mother's headstone. She wondered at the daisies that were in full bloom at the foot of the grave.

"Your brother comes here every Sunday morning after church," he explained.

Daniel threw the tarpaulin over the Mantaga and started up the breakwater without her. Laura just stood there, confused by his behavior and his silence.

"He never told me. I asked him in my letters but he'd always talk of other things." She started back towards the boat and he followed her.

"You know I really don't remember her all that much. Manoy had been her favorite, maybe that's why I tried so much to be like him. Except when he snored," she laughed then. "But whenever I thought I needed a mother's attention I went to yours. I wish I'd come home more often then. I wish I'd come home sooner."

"So do I."

She looked at him when he said that, but he was getting inside the boat with his back to her.

"It's almost evening," she said.

"Hurry up," he snapped. "You should get home before dark."

The way back to Mantawihan seemed to take longer, with neither of them saying anything. The moon had risen over the mountains when he beached the craft, but the last of the sun's rays still held the sky aglow.

Almost violently, Daniel threw the tarpaulin over the Mantaga and started up the breakwater without her. Laura just stood there, confused by his behavior and his silence. She called out to him and he stopped and turned around.

"I don't want to go home yet," she said.

They sat on the breakwater and looked out over the nipa palms that the moon had turned into a field of silver fans.

"I tell myself I don't care what people think," Daniel was saying. "But whenever I see their parents or any of their relatives I feel their hatred. And I don't blame them. Feelings run deep in a small town."

"You ought to get away," she told him. "Take your mother and go to the city."

"She'd miss the life here. She'd be unhappy there, I just know it. And I can't leave her, not now."

"You should get married then. Give her a grandchild to make her happy."

"I wanted to, once."

"What happened?"

"I guess I waited too long."

She said, thinking of George, "And I didn't wait long enough."

"There's something—never mind."

"What? Tell me."

"Naah."

"Come on, tell me," she said, almost laughing.

"There's something," he began again, slowly this time, "that I've always wanted to ask of you. But I'm not sure if you'd agree."

It looked exactly the same, except for a mounted picture on the wall of Daniel in his high school toga standing beside a girl similarly attired. She looked closer and realized that the girl was herself.

"I'm your friend," she said to him quietly. "You can ask me for anything."

He smiled at her, and with a gesture so exaggerated that it failed to hide the honest plea behind it he said, "Then I ask for the moon."

She looked at the sky and spoke just as quietly as before. "You know I can't give you that."

And he saw the moon reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

"You just did."

It was almost midnight when he brought her home. She found the front door locked. She went around and tried the back door, but it too refused to open.

"Manoy?" she knocked tentatively. " 'Noy Oscar." Harder this time. She closed her eyes and listened. She couldn't hear him snoring so she knew he was awake.

"'Noy, please let me in."

Silence.

"Manoy Oscar, don't be like that," she begged.

She pounded on the door for a full minute before she gave up and walked back to the gate where Daniel had been waiting.

"He's locked me out," she said helplessly.

"So it seems."

"What am I going to do?"

"You could sleep at my house. I'm sure Mama wouldn't mind making room on her mat for you."

She looked up at him but his face was unreadable. She sighed and started up the road alongside him.

She threw them open and saw the sky was ominously gray. When she went downstairs Daniel was gone. She found his mother in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

They walked to his house in complete silence. When they got inside Daniel knocked on his mother's door, but she was deep in a medicine-induced sleep.

"You'll have to sleep in my room," he told Laura. He took her hand and led her up the stairs. She looked around the room when he turned on the light. She'd seen it years ago, when she hid in it once to escape punishment for some misdeed. It looked exactly the same, except for a mounted picture on the wall of Daniel in his high school toga standing beside a girl similarly attired. She looked closer and realized that the girl was herself.

"Mama's told me several times to put that away. I just haven't got around to it yet." He unfolded his mat on the floor and arranged two pillows and a blanket on it. "Hope you don't mind using my bedding. Mama keeps the fresh ones in her room."

She wanted to say something, to thank him, but she held back her tongue.

"So, make yourself comfortable. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

When he was gone she took off her shoes and lay down on the mat. She thought she would stay awake all night, but before she could sort out her emotions she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

The sound of the wind rattling the shutters awakened her. She threw them open and saw the sky was ominously gray. When she went downstairs Daniel was gone. She found his mother in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

"He went to make sure the Mantaga was secure," 'Nang Paring told her.

She ran all the way to Mantawihan, oblivious to the light rain that had started to fall. When she got there the Mantaga was nowhere in sight.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself and sat down on the breakwater to wait for him.

© Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan

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