Bagani

Chapter 9: Chapter 9- Maria Isabella Salvacion de Silva


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ALREN

 

Having successfully delivered our pick-up to her new home, Gab and I make our way out of the residential area, walking toward the common are about a few kilometers out.

Then I remember something. I stop dead in my tracks, facing Gab, who looks at me quizzically.

“What?” she asks.

“We forgot to tell Amilyn about her roommate,” I reveal.

Gab thinks about it for a few seconds, then sighs.

“Ah bon, une petite erreur. I’m sure she can sort herself out,” she says.

“Hmm, you’re right. Oh well, I guess that part couldn’t be helped. I hope she got a nice roomie though. Things are better with a nice roomie.”

“She will have a good roommate, kalangitan allow. No need to worry about her. Now, we should hurry.”

“Yeah, let’s get going.”

We continue to walk.

Goodluck, Amilyn. I hope you have fun here, I silently say. The kid could use some well wishes after all.

***

AMILYN

 

“Uhh…hi?” I tentatively say to the surprise guest.

Well, seeing as she got here first, I think I’m the guest in this situation. She must have been surprised to have someone barge in on her while she is sleeping. I know I would if I were in her shoes.

The girl looks at me as if calculating her options. With my luck, she could decide to dice me up before I am even allowed to explain why I’m here, not that I’d do a good job explaining anyway.

I look at her expectantly, deciding that I’m better off not talking, hoping that I’m skilled enough in ocular communication to convey that I am in no way a threat to her existence.

I carefully inspect her. The girl looks about my age, a bit taller than me, and also much skinnier. She has a pair of large, round, brown eyes, a small, rather flat nose, and a pair of thin lips. Her skin is on the darker side of brown. Her hair is…a light shade of black? Maybe a little orange?

Oh, it’s brown!

Wait, brown? I thought she would have blue hair like me. I thought everyone would have blue hair.

Anyway, I don’t think it’s a good time to ask, seeing as she’s still appraising me.

Finally, she nods, as if arriving at a decision. I hope it’s one that is favorable to me.

She stands, popping her neck as she goes like a trained gangsta about to wallop me whole. I instinctively inch back.

“English?” she finally asks.

Her accent sounds neutral, almost absent. She could be from anywhere and lost her native language’s inflection.

“Uhh…yes, English,” I reply, glad that the first topic we come to is not which part of my body I’m willing to part with.

The girl nods. She extends a hand.

“Welcome to Pinag-adlawan. My name is Maria Isabella Salvacion de Silva. You can call me Mary. I guess we can both safely guess that we’re roommates,” she says.

I take her hand, shaking it vigorously.

“Amilyn Verity, pleasure to meet you,” I reply.

“Well Amilyn, feel free to settle down. I already took the left side, I hope you don’t mind. Sorry for my reaction, I wasn’t expecting anyone to arrive in the middle of the night,” she says, stifling a yawn.

“No it’s fine. I also wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. Sorry for surprising you,” I reply.

“Ayos lang. I mean…it’s okay. Sit down, I’m sure you had a rough day. You get picked up today?”

I take her advise and plop down on the spare bed, which I assume is now my bed. To my surprise, it’s made out of foam. It’s soft and comfortable. I assumed that like everything here, they would go traditional on the bed and make us sleep on some kind of mat.

“Uh yeah, I guess I was…picked up today. You? How long you been here?” I reply, still marveling at the softness of the mattress.

“Three months. Been here since my sixteenth birthday, like everyone else.”

“Three months? That’s a long time. So everyone who turns sixteen gets picked up?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Some have been here longer. As long as you turn sixteen before the second full moon of April, which is when the harvest festival is celebrated, then you get picked up. Any later that year and you get picked up next year on January. So some spend their sixteenth at home, although their anitos are already gone. But for you and me, we spend it here. I guess you turn sixteen today?” she asks.

“Uh, I guess so,” I only reply.

Truth is, all my life I assumed that my birthday is on May 20, since that’s when we celebrate it. But nana did mention something about me being a month old when she got me, so I guess today IS my birthday. Wow, that’s just now sinking in. I’m sixteen today. What a way to spend your birthday.

She must have heard the doubt in my voice, but Mary doesn’t push the topic of my unsure birth date.

She lets out a yawn, and I turn to see her scrolling through a phone.

Wait…a phone?

“Uhm…” I start, not sure how to continue.

She side eyes me. I pick up my courage.

“Is that a phone?” I manage to ask.

“What, you don’t recognize what a phone is?” she asks, waving her phone.

“I do!” I defend. “Just…I didn’t know we could use phones here. We’re underground and we’re…not human, right? Can we use phones?”

She looks at me in disbelief.

You are reading story Bagani at novel35.com

Then…she laughs.

Now I find myself stupid. I mean, I just assumed we couldn’t use phone!

“You read Percy Jackson?” she says in between laughs.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“That’s where you picked up that particular nugget of knowledge. I don’t blame you, it’s a good series. Lots of fun to read.”

“Right? And it’s so helpful! I mean, my teachers think I’m a Greek mythology connoisseur and all I did was recite the order in which Kronus barfed out his children. I got an A+ in our lit class.”

Mary laughs again, clutching her stomach, gasping for air.

“What? You agreed it’s good!” I defend.

“No, it’s not that…just…oh well, how do I say this. It IS good, for a read I mean. But you can’t use it as reference material for yourself. I mean, we can definitely use phones, that’s one. And we’re not children of the gods, that’s a bit out of there, even for us. Besides, if we start getting messages on rainbows, our lives would be so much easier,” she explains.

“So…we’re allowed to use phones?” I ask again.

“Sure we can. Not much reception down here though. But it’s good for keeping us preoccupied. Plus it’s a better alarm clock than a rooster,” Mary replies.

“But…how do you charge it? I didn’t see any power lines on my way here,” I continue asking, mystified.

“Oh, we use solar and hydro power. Very handy when we have our own sun and several kilometers of flowing water. There’s no shortage of power here.”

I sigh. My imagination really got the best of me. I just assumed phones would spontaneously combust in our hands, so I left mine at the apartment. Now what do I do?

“What’s the matter, no phone?” Mary inquires.

I nod, slumping back on the bed.

“Don’t worry. It’s not that difficult to get one here. I’ll get you one tomorrow. Think of it as a late birthday gift. I’m sure today was a roller coaster ride for you, you probably didn’t have that much time to think about gifts. You’re new to this whole thing right? All the pinili stuff I mean.”

I nod in reply.

“How did you know?”

“Wild guess.”

She stands up, heading for the corner in front of us. She approaches a large earthen jar, opens it, and takes something from inside. Then she walks towards me and hands me something. I accept her offer.

The ‘something’ is a tubular piece of stick wrapped in banana leaves. It is about six inches long and an inch across. I watch as Mary peels off the banana wrapping, and I follow suit. Beneath the wrapping is a yellow, sweet-smelling thing. It’s kinda sticky, but looks appetizing.

“Eat. It’s called suman na kamote. Steamed grated sweet potato with macapuno in the middle. It’s a traditional kakanin from my tribe,” says Mary as she takes a bite off the tube.

I dutifully obey, taking a tentative chunk off the piece. The food is sweet and savory, soft and juicy, and the center is a creamy sweet jelly. Delighted, I take a second bite, and a third, and a fourth, until I demolish the entire thing. My hands are sticky, but I’m happy enough to ignore it.

“Want another one?”

I eagerly nod. Mary smiles and gets up to get me another.

“So, ready for tomorrow?” she asks as she walks.

“What? What day is tomorrow?” I ask in return, not fully paying attention.

“Harvest festival. Biggest gathering of pinili and bagani. Happens only once a year.”

“Uhh… is it something I have to prepare for?”

“Hmm, not really. Might just take you by surprise, seeing all shades of hair colors and stuff like that. I heard it’s quite the sight.”

“Hair colors? As in, multiple colors?”

Then I remember that I was wondering why her hair is brown.

“Yeah. You didn’t know? There are six possible colors all in all that a pinili can get when he turns of age. They are a reflection of the person’s overall demeanor.”

“Kinda like houses? In Hogwarts?” I ask, curious.

“Well, yes, and no. You see, we’re not divided according to our color. As you might have noticed, your hair is blue, mine is brown, but we’re roommates. But yes, our hair color does tell of our main characteristics,” Mary replies, returning to sit beside me and handing me another treat.

“So your hair is blue, that means you’re mind is deep and unfathomable, like the ocean. Mine is brown, which makes me resilient and determined, like the earth. Some have white hair, meaning they’re free and unbound, like the wind. Some are green, which makes them kind and giving, like the tree. Some have red hair, which makes them fiery and brave, like the sun. And then there’s the minority, gold, the catalonan-in-the-making. Our hair color describes our main trait, but we’re not supposed to let ourselves be confined within them. In the six years we will train here, we will be taught to adapt the characteristics of other hair colors, thus making us the ideal warrior,” she explains.

“Wow, you know a lot. That was kinda hard to memorize,” I reply, dumbstruck.

She lets out a hearty laugh.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

I stifle a yawn. Mary notices. She gets up, heading to her corner.

“Time to sleep. You must have had a long day. We’re supposed to get up early tomorrow,” she says.

“Uh, right. Thanks for the food and the brief explanation,” I respond, taking off my shoes and lifting my feet into the bed.

“Sa way sapayan.”

Okay, did not understand that, but I’ll wing it.

“Yeah. And uhm…I hope we get along,” I add.

“You like Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, that’s a good start. Tomorrow after the festival, I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about. Well then, goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Mary pulls the covers on her corner, and with that she’s out of view. I lay in my bed, tired and sleepy.

Tomorrow is another day. If I wake up and find this was all a dream, then what a dream it was.

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