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SOME PEBBLE STONES
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Jul 14, 2009 4:49 am
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"It's not the big things that will always put up a good show. Even the smallest speck gets to have an importance, plays a given role and finds its good meaning.”
Theresa May is only five years old, born and raised to a peasant family, whose household income is just about enough to keep them surviving, for each passing day. She is an only child, fair-complexioned, looking quite frail, with her small physique; but, very bubbly and charmingly pretty, when both her dimples stick out, to give you a good smile.
“Come Theresa May, fetch your Dad’s rubber slippers, he is raring to go now.” Every time this summon, would become Theresa May’s alarm clock. She would know it would almost be past four o’clock in the morning, whenever Isabella calls on her like that. “Coming, Mom!” would be her signal for getting up in that hour.
Her Dad, who everyone calls Joe, in their little coastal town of San Antonio, which is situated in one of the northern provinces in the Philippines, is an independent vegetable farmer. Joe goes to the fields, as early as the cackles of roosters and other dawn breaking noises of farm animals in the neighborhood. He travels on foot daily, to reach the base of Mount Matunggal. This, after a long trek along tall, wild reeds filling the hillsides and open fields, that he passes by everyday. He holds a lease agreement, maintaining a small plot of land, at the foot of Mt. Matunggal. He has converted this area into compartmentalized vegetable patches, which are planted to some local varieties of lettuce, cabbage and cauliflower. Everyday, Joe’s routine consists of de-weeding the vegetable patches from unwanted grass growths, ridding them too, of parasitic crawlers and pests, including watering and adding organic composites like urea, to make the ground fertile.
On a good harvest of his vegetables, Joe could just about buy some basic staples for his family. It is still not enough to last them though, not even until a round of veggies will be ready for reaping again, on the next harvest season. It would normally take three months interval, from one harvest season, to the next. So you can just imagine the stretch that the family needs to get accustomed to, which in fact, may even become longer, when nature spreads its ire and retards or destroys, any lush vegetable growth, during harsh and unpredictable weather conditions.
During sunny and dry months, Theresa May would join Isabella gather stones at the seashore, that is about a mile away from where their house is. They go by foot, each time. Isabella is Theresa May’s Mom. She looks stymied from growing at four feet eleven inches, considerably lean, but resembles Theresa May, a lot. The only difference is that Isabella sports a darker complexion and has long dark curly tresses, when being compared to her Theresa May. Isabella has stubbed toes and fingers, which Theresa May seemingly inherited and which make them both, typically looking indigenous.
Isabella would take and push the homemade wooden wheel cart box, which Joe had made for their purposes, whenever she and Theresa May, takes the trail to the seashore. Theresa May, on the other hand, would be carrying a rusty dented aluminum pail, that she swings curtly with her right hand, as she trots to catch up, with Isabella’s pacings.
Gathering stones is an added income for the family. Isabella gathers pieces of stones, which got washed to the shores, but would more or less appear, as fossilized. Each stone can weigh from the lightest half kilo to the heaviest of ten and above, in kilograms. The heavier and the rarer the stone figured, it meant more pesos for the family. It meant having to taste red meat again, when they can sell a quite expensive piece. Each stone would sell differently, that is, from a low hundred bucks to a high thousands of pesos, but all depending on the size, weight and appearance of the stone. They are actually bought by Asian business traders, who go to their town, solely for the purpose of buying said stones and they have them shipped abroad, in container vans. These stones accordingly are very utile in home improvements and garden or landscaping beautification works, especially in Korea.
When Isabella goes far away from Theresa May, in search for these stones, Theresa May would also seek, collect and gather tiny pebbles of one color, that she takes fancy for. She saw them gleaming from afar one time, thought she would pick it up and put them, in the container pail that she carried. Although the pebbles, upon close glance turns out to be a bit rough and irregular in shape, Theresa May didn’t mind nonetheless, since she just marveled at the way the pebbles glimmered in her hand in broad daylight, every time she picks them up. Some days are really good luck when she can pick-up a sizeable morsel, sometimes, the size of a peanut, but that is never an everyday occurrence. When she arrives home each time, she would put them in a small grimy plastic bag, which she usually hang, store and hide, underneath their antiquated brown nipa hut. She must have gathered a small handful already. She wasn’t concerned as to how many, she has now kept, for as long as she has them stocked there in that grimy plastic bag, hanging underneath their nipa hut’s flooring, it is alright and she is happy enough.
Theresa May woke up feeling something eerie and had a heavy heart that one gloomy day. True enough there was something wrong because Isabella told her, “I don’t think we are going to the seashore today, I do not feel in high spirits now. Maybe, we can do it, when I can feel good again. You may find something else to do. You can ask Bebong to come and play with you today.”
Bebong is a next-door-boy neighbor, a year older than Theresa May and an ever ready and willing playmate to Theresa May, when she calls him to join her at home. Today, Theresa May had to practically dragged her feet, as she walked towards the fence outside, where she could see Bebong playing. She beckoned Bebong and said, “It’s not that I don’t like to play with you, but this morning, I am sure you can give me good company.” Bebong replied, “I will give good company and play with you too, but on one condition, give me one stone that you have often played with, which emits sparkles from your hand, every time I see you looking at them.” Bebong’s demand got Theresa May stunned hearing it, but since she has many stones right now, she couldn’t care less and said, “Alright, but on one condition too, that you will never tease nor bully me.” Both understood each other very well, so Bebong hurriedly climbed the fence, to join Theresa May, on the other side.
Isabella called out to them, saying “Be good children and don’t get into mischief.” That was the last time Theresa May saw her Mom, standing upright and also the last time Isabella was talking to her. As she remembered well, Isabella was pallid, grimly ashen in color, when Theresa May faced her approvingly to reply. It didn’t take long for Isabella to faint, after a few minutes, from those last moments. It was good luck to see Joe arriving from the fields, about three minutes after Isabella had collapsed. However, Isabella went in coma immediately and from thence, Theresa could only postulate, Isabella must have been very tired, as she has always been sleeping, no matter what time of the day or night it could be, plus the fact that she never uttered a word to Joe and to her.
Theresa May felt strongly something was wrong with Isabella, but she could just observe and not ask. Joe looked very sullen and worrisome most times, which is enough reason for Theresa May not to ask ever. But, she would often hear whispers from Joe, whenever he speaks with Isabella, saying how fearful he is, because he couldn’t do anything to make Isabella awaken from that stupor. Little did Theresa May know, Isabella will not be relieved because she can’t be brought to a doctor nor to a hospital. Joe will not be able to tell what was going on, because he didn’t have money to pay for Isabella’s medical treatments. Most often, Theresa Maya would only see this old man chanting some weird boo boos and using varied medicinal leaves in concoctions, in the hope that Isabella wakes up, while doing it. This spiritual doctor seemed to be nuts, chanting indescribable talks, playing with a glass of water and a lighted candle, then trying to read what is being heralded, when the candle leaks to emulsify in a basin of water.
She remembered the tiny brown pebbles that she had kept, while playing with Bebong that same morning. She brought them out from safekeeping, so she could give Bebong what he bargained for. She took them out from that grimy plastic bag, seeing them in sparkling sheen, even if she was not under the sun that time. She didn’t know exactly how many she had, but she was counting them, as if she knew how. She was saying, “One and another one, one with two and two with one, makes five or maybe, four, but certainly not three.” All she knew then she was counting them right.
“Wow! they look brighter on close-up, but I wonder what causes them to gleam like that,” asked Bebong. Theresa May just gave him a shrug of her shoulders, unknowing what to answer and was going for another physical count of the pebbles she had held, when Joe appeared before them. Joe asked, “What do you have in your hand? It glistened from afar just as I was about to go near you.”
She said to her Dad, “It’s just some stones that I picked up when Mom was picking up stones. They have this unusual sparkle and looked pretty to me, so I started gathering them.” Her Dad said, “Could be some quartz stones you’ve gotten. Alright, keep them away then and clean up now, while I cook, so we can start eating lunch. You better send Bebong home soon.” As soon as Joe left the kids, Theresa May swiftly gave one small piece of pebble stone to Bebong, abiding with what she had promised her best friend. Bebong was quick to put it in his pocket, without knowing the pocket where he placed the stone had this big hole, enough for the pebble to fall and get lost.
"Be on your way now, you’ve got what you’ve wanted.” Theresa May was telling Bebong. So he sped towards home. When he climbed the outside fence, the pebble dropped from his pocket and Bebong didn’t notice it. It fell in between the two pieces of hollow blocks piled up, that Bebong had stepped on, to cross and get to the other side.
Theresa May has always been an obedient daughter. She has been listening always to what Isabella and Joe would tell her, except for those times, when she would be oblivious to the outside world because, she would be busy daydreaming and fantasizing like all toddlers behaved.
She put back the stones inside that old, grimy plastic bag once again and went to hang them back, at the same old place. She whispered while hanging them, “I will bring you out again. You look more radiant outside than if I were to continue keeping you here. Maybe, I can find a good place to put you, so I can see your sparkles everyday.”
Isabella looked like skin and bones now, still as pallid as she was the first time, but probably more this time, when Theresa May had scrutinized her. She had also observed most times, that Isabella gasped for breath. She would often run on those instances, fetched Isabella a cup of water. Water only keeps seeping down her mouth, as Theresa May insistently lets her drink from the cup’s rim. Still, she would take another attempt and use a tablespoon to scoop enough water and thrust it inside her gaped mouth. But Isabella would cough intermittently and all the more gasp for breath.
Theresa May talks to Isabella, as if nothing was wrong with her, whenever she sits at her bedside. She wanted to feel everything was alright as she didn’t have anyone else to be with, during the day. Most times she would see tears flowing down Isabella’s face, whenever she talked with her as if to say, “Let me be awaken from this trance, dear God, so I can take care of my little daughter.” Theresa May would wipe them dry, not knowing at all the reason why tears were there. But she would keep saying to Isabella, “Don’t worry Mom, maybe you need more time to sleep; rest well, so we can go to the seashore, like we used to. In due time, I can have as many pebbles stones, then find them a place in our yard, so their sparkles will just be about enough, to cheer and lit our little abode.” But there was no saying, neither an assurance from anyone, that Isabella could really still get up and go with Theresa May to the seashore.
One time, there was some hustle bustle near Isabella, as Theresa May woke up. There was this man wearing white, standing beside Isabella saying she has to got to go, the sooner it’s done, the better for her. Joe was just stupefied standing and looking at the man with this instrument hanging around his neck. He was near to tears and holding his hair, as if he wants to pull them out.
When the man had gone, Theresa May told Joe, “Dad, I have had this dream last night, there was this man talking to me, he was dressed in a brown robe with a belt tied at his waist and a rosary was hanging by it. He was very soft-spoken and had a gentle smiling face. He patted my head and went to kiss my forehead, then whispered to tell me, to give you the pebble stones I have been keeping. He said Mom needs them.” Theresa May didn’t know what it meant, but she was more than glad, to be able to give Joe, the pebble stones that she gathered. She was happy it was going to be useful for Isabella. She felt so confident giving it. She had this strong belief these stones would simply bring back and make Isabella awakened from the deep slumber she has been having. Theresa May never knew that the pebble stones she had gathered were gold nuggets, that got washed away from the mountains and then were carried towards the seashore.
Several weeks had gone by, since then. Isabella was again summoning Theresa May, “Come little child, let’s go to the church. I will need to say my thanksgiving.” Theresa May was more than glad to accompany Isabella again, where she wants to go. They got to the church alright. It was Theresa May’s first time to go there really. She was taken aback looking at someone very familiar. Right there in front of her, she saw this person, a tall statue, dressed like the man in her dreams. The gentle smile and the soft looking face she will not forget, of course. He was the same man who told her to give the pebble stones to Joe. She looked at him and she fancied seeing there was a smile with a wink, from this statue. Now she knows, who that man was in her dreams, the patron saint of their church, who they call San Antonio de Padua.
Copyright 05/06/2007 fantasiamore. All rights reserved.
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