That day, the river refused to swallow her and spit her out instead. Shivering when air hit her wet skin, her limbs felt underwater and her clothes clung like sticky goo. Above her was a thatched roof a good two arms width away. The sensation of a hand grabbing her was fresh. Even as the panic subsided, she felt blank. Relief did not come in the shape it should.

When the boat rocked, a shadow wobbled and swayed over her. It swayed until the shadow had a face and arms and feet. It was a young girl.

A towel landed on Sal’s face. She flinched. The water still up in her nose stung causing her to cough and lean onto her side. The girl stood over her before she dashed away. Sal lay shivering on her side. Somehow, if it was Lea over her she would've wrapped every inch of her and dried her with it, like a sick animal, as Lea would’ve said.She would not be there for her and she should not expect a young child to do that work for her.

Sal curled up and wrapped the towel around her arms , feet and face with only a few inches worth’s space for air. Outside, partially hidden by sacks were tall buildings as big as giants growing smaller with each splash of the boatman’s oar. On the side, she spied an uprooted plant caught on the side of the boat.

Before long, the boat stopped by a river bank. Around were no longer the orange stone buildings of Mutiara, but grass and moss overtaking the structures around. The boat tipped to its side and rocked as a man on the other side of the boat approached the girl.

It was hard not to stare, for there on the other side, the girl talked in quiet whispers with the stocky, raspy-voiced man. Soon, the man raised his voice. Sal covered her ears. The child remained unperturbed by it and pointed to two sacks in the boat. The man in turn, inspected the sacks in question. 

   He went back to the opposite edge of the boat. Passing by Sal, he gave her a glare and a scoff. He muttered under his breath, “Lucky bastard.”

   Sal withdrew to herself and kept herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. But from time to time, she would stare at the little girl who sat on the edge of the boat. Sal walked to this girl.

“Who are you?” Sal asked.

The girl gave her a quick look. “ Inie. Just Inie.”

Sal slumped beside her. “ Do you know me?”

The girl crumpled her face, brows furrowed down and her mouth curved in a funny way. She shook her head. 

Sal tried to keep her distance as one should to be polite but found herself looking to decipher this stranger’s face. “Why did you save me?”

“ It was not me. I asked the boatman to get you out of the river.“ 

“You did.” She settled in the silence that had snuggled comfortably in the air. Her thoughts flitted with the calm waves. If she’d just let herself fall in these waters, she’d sink and the water would welcome her. It was dark, panic snuck on her at the realization that her feet were not touching any more ground . She would have let herself fall.

“ You just do it. That is all.”

The little girl went quiet again. Maybe fairies are real.

After some time, the boat stopped by the riverbank which was lined with a dozen boats, nary a stone building in sight. Instead, huts, big and small, dotted the place along with big swaths of trees. No names of places. No names of streets. Sal jumped off the boat and ran around looking for any hidden stone arc or any marker of the place. Nothing. This place was truly in the middle of nowhere. 

On the riverbank stood Inie. For a good few minutes, there were barely any other people. On the horizon were only trees and no sign of the city. Only the slight swish of wind on the trees talked of movement. There was no one else.

Sal approached the girl, albeit gingerly. “ Are you lost?”

The girl shook her head. “ The boat was just later than usual.” She took a glance at Sal. “ You can take shelter in the huts here or you can wait and have the next boat take you back to Mutiara. “

Sal took a good look at the direction Inie fixed her gaze. Slowly, a boat came into view. It peeked from the trees, a dot at first, until she could see the whole boat in itself. Upon closer inspection, it was much smaller and grimier than it first looked.

Inie hauled off sacks of rice and vegetables into another boat, such marvelous strength in her small body she had. She hopped on the boat and the boatman rowed the boat around to face the end of the river, away from Mutiara, away from Gran Gapoz.

At that, Sal ran side by side with the boat. She could hear voices calling but her eyes were fixed on the horizon hidden behind the trees. When the boat finally stopped, she hopped on and determined to herself.

She’d go with Inie.

For what seemed like hours, the boat seemed to travel into nowhere. The splash of water against the oar turned to white noise as the sun changed its place in the sky. Before long, trees and weeds stopped flanking the river. A funny smell pervaded the air and water stretched at both sides with any sign of land being a dash in the distance. The sensation of floating and the realization that she was hovering over deep water was terrifying. She’d heard tales of crocodiles and other beasts living in these kinds of waters from Ro. Sal thought it before a story to tell children but now, the sky was wide and the waters too. The river seemed to threaten to swallow her if the boat tipped over. How could she not realize it before? The place seemed desolate, isolated like enchanted places in fairy tales.

After what seemed like eternity, land appeared closer until the boat reached the bank. Two more boats lined the riverbank and two huts more. Sal looked back at the wide mass of water like a pirate who had just finished his adventure. Sal crawled to the end of the boat, almost tipping it over. She jumped off and dashed to the end of the hut.

Behind the huts was grassland overgrown with weeds and smoke peeped from behind it. Beside her, Inie carried a dirty, bulky sack on her back while the boatman carried one on his back and one on each hand. They paced towards a small dirt road on the right side of the huts. They walked in a brisk pace like how Sal imagined toy soldiers would walk like. 

At the end of the dirt road was a row of huts small like overgrown matchboxes. They stood above the ground in short stilts on its corners while chickens and ducks wandered about the crawl space underneath. A strange, earthy, sweaty smell spread through the air and everything was tinted a light purple from the sunset.

Soon, the sound of her own footsteps disappeared from voices surrounding her. At first, there were loud whispers. Then, high-pitched laughs then a conspiratorial question. The voices were coming from all sides.. She dare not look at the people crowded outside the huts for their stares would be painful. “Left riversider?” constantly repeated. They knew the duck from the chicken’s nest. 

The voices only got louder when she froze in her spot. She trudged her way to the end of the road before reaching the biggest hut. When she did, she dashed away to the trees where there were no people, no eyes on her.

Sal took shelter in a mango grove by the end of the village. The trees’ shadow covered the whole ground . Dried leaves blanketed everything you could step on. A cicada’s chirp and the dimness of the surroundings spoke of tranquility. When she let herself sleep by the overgrown root of a tree, mosquito bites on her feet woke her up. There were many more bugs around and ones she had not seen before. It was nighttime already and the grove had turned dark.

Sal ran out of the grove and into the hut with a lit window. Bites ran over her feet. She scratched at them with her hands and her soles. It was little use. When the itch was nearly gone, Sal heard a voice conversing from the window.

“Are you cold, Ma? Do you need anything else? Hm, alright.” Inie spoke in a voice that was almost cooing.

“No, it’s alright. You’ve done enough.” It was a voice slow in its speech and frail. 

It was a scene straight from a storybook, a dialogue spoken in a play.

Sal hoisted herself through the frame on the edge of the hut and grasped onto the bamboo lining of the window. 

Inside was Inie kneeling behind the wall, by the edge of a straw mat. On the straw mat lay a figure covered in a thin mattress and whose long, stickly hair spread out on her side. 

The woman’s body was a little bigger than a stick that Inie had to place her hand on the woman’s back so she could sit. The woman drank the glass of water and sat back down. Then, she lay down and caressed Inie’s hand.

Sal jumped off the hut and laid on the ground to stare at the sky. She’d look at the shapes made by the trees against the sky, but every time she’d hear Inie and the woman’s voices, she'd want to run away to the mango grove. But the mango grove is dark right now. She was stuck, but she decided that running to the grove seemed better. Or if there were grasslands surrounding the place, she’d go there.

The sky turned dark and it was quiet once more. Sal huddled by a pole on the back of the hut as she listened to voices filter in into the hut. Faint whispers and faint laughter. She’d fight the urge to look back and peek. Eyes were on her. It was not hard to eavesdrop from the thin, splindery rattan walls of the hut. Questions about her waved away so easily. 

Soon, the noises died down as they all settled to sleep. For a while, the darkness and quietness was comforting until a face in her mind lunges at her. The darkness becomes noisy and quiet at the same time. At that, Sal peeked at the closed window of the hut. 

There was a shriek. Sal hid. Two adult voices talked of an intruder. Was it a creature? A thief? Sal crawled her way towards the doorway of the hut. She knocked. The intruder would like to present herself. 

When the door opened that night, Sal expected them to drive her away or say she’s bad for doing what she did. But that night, a couple welcomed her into the house. Sal slept on a scratchy straw mat on low ground. It was uncomfortable, but more so was the noises and the knowledge of sleeping beside all these people who’d wake up to see her have popped out of nowhere and taken space with them. She rolled out of the mat and tucked herself into the farthest corner she could stay to sleep.

___________#____________

 

Either it would be eyes gawking around her or complete silence in a bare room when she wakes up. Instead, what welcomed her that morning was a bad headache that worsened at each movement and a scratchy feeling in her throat. Noises clattered outside the hut, shrieks of children and gaggles of fowls and loud curses. The same conspiratorial tone dotted the conversations outside, they must be talking about her. When at every moment she’d expect them to come in, the couple from last night were posted on the door as if guarding it.

It was as if she did not leave the Hospicio except this time, Lea was not around. A mug of boiled bitter tea sat by the side of the mat where she sat, its odor clearing her nose. Inie took the mug to heat it anew. Sometimes, it was Inie by the door, sometimes it’s the man, or the woman. Sometimes, she’d hear children clamoring outside to see her. But when she’d peek outside, the couple had already chased them away.

“ How are you feeling?” the woman asked her. She was a plump woman whose skin made her eyes shine more. She set another mug of warm water with ginger on the mat.

Sal nodded. 

“Child, how are you feeling?” 

Sal gathered her words. “ My head is a little clearer this time, it hurts a little when speaking on this side but it is generally fine. The stuffy feeling in my nose is a bit gone and the scratchy feeling too.”

The woman smiled. “That’s nice to hear. By tomorrow, you’d be well in no time. Although-” The woman inched closer to her and gestured at her to look up. The woman’s brows furrowed. She sat down on the mat, with a distance Sal rather liked. “Why were you in the river?”

The ache shot up her head, a sharp dig in the skull. Sal kept her gaze on the rattan mat below her to avoid the woman’s gaze. She fell of course, but why? She jumped? It was not even clear to her.

“I don’t know. Mayhap, why do you ask?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question.”

Sal flinched at the sharp tone. “I apologize.” 

“ Just don’t do it again, kid. And look up.” The woman insisted.

Sal strained to do so, but found herself looking at her side upon habit. 

The woman’s tone softened. “ We’re not gonna turn you over to the authorities. No people from the government would care to reach this place anyway. Besides, everyone here has secrets everyone knows. We should trust each other .” 

The woman’s face was welcoming, her stern tone had softened. She must be a version of Lea who grew up in this place if she did not have green eyes. Otherwise, that would not explain the oddity of this woman’s words. It was to be expected of a duck to drive away the chicken’s egg, not cradle it.

“ I…” She collected her thoughts from yesterday. “Jumped. I jumped in the river. I did not trip on my feet. “

“ Oh.”

Sal calculated the gasp on the woman’s face. She deflated but continued. “ I was in the Carcel and. I was running. I was foolish. I was supposed to stay put.” She paused. There was a dragon, big but fangless. A dragon that was so large and looming still. “ They were running after me.”

The woman’s face was one she could barely decipher. No sign of disgust, or of irritation. 

Sal asked “ Would you bring me there too?”

The woman said no over and over and laughed a little between. It seems the words of a younger person will be a funny joke to older people. The woman was saying more, but it blurred when Sal saw the man come in the door.

He set down a mug on a low table. “Golly! You’re scaring the child. How can she stay in the village if she’s scared of us?” 

“ Stay?” Sal stared at the two and shook her head. She gathered her words to speak when the pungent smell of ginger assaulted her nose. Inie had just set a mug of boiled ginger in front of her and patted her feet on the ground a little, giving a wordless look at her before she stood.

“ Easy, Inie.” The man remarked while drinking. He turned to Sal next. “ Inie’s a good kid but she's just like this sometimes. Just tell us if she bothers you. Isn’t that good, ah, Inie?” 

The woman turned to Sal. “ I believe Inie is near your age. You’ll get along. She’s a good kid.”

Sal fixated her eyes on the woman to check if she’ll make any contact, touch her, pat her head, or squeeze her arm. Thankfully, she did not. Why do they not say a word at her silence? She was being impolite, wasn't she? She was tempted to ask, but maybe it will be the same answer every time. Why were they nice to her? No reason at all.

______________#____________

She did not know where to stop or to stay. For the next day, Sal stayed inside the big hut but the couple did not scold her. So, she stayed in the woods behind the place. By twilight, the woman dragged her back. Sal waited for her words to grow harsh but everytime it seemed she’d burst, she’d bite down a remark and sigh. She only told Sal that snakes sometimes wander the thicker part of the woods. After that, Sal dared not wander after the sky had turned orange.

But for the rest of the week, Sal braved the woods more often. Inie’s mother had gotten sicker lately. Though the hut is big enough, Inie and her mother’s whispers are all she could hear. Sometimes, it would be the children playing outside or the people visiting the couple.

Sal would stay by the woods. It seemed like the village’s children had come to the couple to see her, the outsider. They’d ask the couple a lot of questions. Is it true she came from the Capital? Did she see the great singers there? Did she come to the parties in Calare? The couple would answer them with silly stories that Sal was sometimes tempted to answer them herself. Everytime she thought of doing so, the neighbor came to play loud games and drink loudly. Sometimes, they’d stay after the sun had set and Sal was stuck in the woods. Those times, Inie comes with a long stick to ward off snakes, she said. Then, they’d sit quietly waiting for the guests to leave.

After less than a week, it became noisier than usual in the hut. It was the most unbearable to wake up when it was still dark outside, pots clanging in the kitchen and people gossiping outside. It felt like there were a hundred people just outside the walls of the hut. Sal hid in the innermost corner of the hut but it was still noisy. It was as if every second, the neighbors would walk in, point at her and stare. Sal bundled herself up to the only room, if you could call it that, she sat near the room where Inie’s mother was. Her face buried in her knees, she could still hear her. This should’ve been more bearable, but hearing Inie’s mother for hours, Sal stood up and gathered courage to see if there were any more people outside.

Sal ran out of the room as soon as Inie came inside. She’s brought food for her mother, it seems. The aroma of the ginger and the garlic pulled at her, making her stomach rumble, but she kept her feet planted outside. Upon inspection, the noise seemed to have moved on the yard on the front of the hut. She crouched to the window, outside was a long table lined with banana leaves and a row of partially-eaten rice. A half-eaten, grotesque looking, roasted pig sat in the middle of the table. The people rested in groups, playing cards but mostly gossiping. Sal angled her head to hear the conversation of the three older women closest to the edge of the hut.

“ That Adeng’s a snobby hag. This just happens once a year and she won’t even come with us!”

“ That’s what happens when you get old, you get grumpier.”

“She’s always been like that, never giving us the time of the day. She hasn’t even come out in ages.”

“Like this girl Manang Yen just took in, it’s been a week.”

“Got sick, they said.”

“ How will you not? Hear, rumors said, Inie found her floating on the river beside the Gapoz. Don’t you think she’s…on the run?”

“ The crow calls the kettle black, Oh my.”

“ We’re not any different. At least, my pursuers wouldn’t reach me here down south unlike this new visitor. But here’s some dirty water you’d want to hear.”

Sal furrowed her brows, she leaned in closer for the woman whispered in the other’s ear. The other woman’s eyes grew wide. “A green-eyed son of a pirate?!”

Sal grasped her face with her hands, all the neighbors had brown eyes.

She dashed to the back of the hut where it was virtually empty except for a few dirty benches and a grimy wooden table and Inie. Inie stood over the table chopping onions. The clatter of the party was almost indistinguishable from the sound of the metal hitting the wood. Sal focused her attention on the sound letting the conversation of the gathering melt into a blur. 

Inie chopped onions beside another bowl of chopped red chilies. Her hands moved like a machine-like doll in a brisk rhythm. Sal copied the pace in her mind.

When Inie left for a short while, Sal took to imitating Inie chopping, thinking of the quickness and the strength. Inie came and said something, but Sal kept on. Soon, her eyes grew sore that she could not open them and tears only came out. She wiped her eyes only to find that it was as if she’d set them on fire. Her fingers stung. Sal shrieked when she realized that she got red chilies on her eyes.

Hands held her by the arms. Inie’s voice came clear. It will be gone with water. She felt a bowl of water on her face. Her eyes still stung. She felt herself pulled into some distance, her feet passing across grass. After a few paces, water gurgled from across. She felt her head lowered into the face of the water and the running water over her eyes. When she rose up from the stream, she opened her eyes and they no longer hurt, but she wished she hadn't opened them.

In front of her stood the three women gossiping earlier. They dropped something from their hands, banana leaves wrapped on a square object smelling like rice and garlic. The older woman only stood still for quite a few seconds. One of the women scrambled to get the object and wrapped it around her person “ Oh, right! We were looking for you. Just tell Manang Yen we took home extra. “ They sped off in hurried steps. Even with their mouths closed or their eyes turned away from her or their words devoid of any harsh words, Sal perfectly understood. It was better to stay away.

_________#___________

That night, Inie got sick. It started with one too many trips to the outhouse. Then, a certain slowness marred her usual quick manner. She stood still more often. By nightfall, she was burning hot with fever. She was making trips to the outhouse. Her retching can be heard from outside as she vomited what she ate and emptied herself. Once, twice, she could not count anymore.

Sal is not too fond of books on sicknesses, but it was easy to surmise that what she saw were what was said to be signs of poisoning. She hid away in the corner and refused to hear or see another person falling victim to this strange malady in their bodies. Somehow, a malicious thought floated by. Someone may have done this to Inie, hated her to that extent. But the couple and the neighbors talked of no one in particular. An accident that happens sometimes, they said. The food must have gone bad for it seems that not only Inie has fallen sick.

It does not make it any better. The couple insisted that Sal assist them in caring for Inie, but between hearing Inie retch, and passing by the girl’s bedridden mother, all Sal could muster was to leave Inie’s mug of water and bowl of fruits by the creaky door and run away. The woman could watch over the girl and put a towel over her head and wait as Inie emptied herself again, but Sal could not. And she calls herself the elder.

Before midnight, some women from the village came into the house. Sal spied on them. The rowdy conversation and gossip she expected from the women turned mellow and whispered. It was not that Sal eavesdropped by accident, but perhaps it was a curiosity she could never contain.

They talked about Inie’s condition, and other sick people in the village, well-wishes for recovery, advice on medicine to give, and further assurances for help. Then, the voices turned more whispered, almost conspiratorial. 

“When did you say the little girl got sick?”

“ She only burned up with a fever last night.”

“ She did not get that sick before. This kid is a tough one. Don’t you think this was because of you know, the visitor?”

Sal held herself hidden but could not tear herself away.

“ I mean, isn’t it a coincidence? That girl arrived here a few days ago. Didn’t you say she got sick with the flu?”

There was silence. 

“ Especially since she was a …greenie? Don’t you think we should send her back?”

As if any minute, they’d peek and see Sal hiding and drag her out but she kept herself in her spot as she mulled over the last words spoken. Perhaps, this might be the last night she eavesdrops in this village.