Sal left the hut just as the sun peeked out of the mountains. The bare grass that gleamed vibrant green in the midday was bluish-gray under the meager light. Her steps were as light as possible when she waded through the grassland surrounding the village.

At last, she chanced upon the end of the island. Same three huts. Same three boats. Sal crawled onto one and had to stop herself from shrieking when the boat wobbled side to side. Her feet were wide apart as if standing on stilts. She tried to carry the paddle but it was heavier than it looked.

From a distance, someone yelled at her and when he stepped closer, Sal turned her head away.

The young man’s voice softened. “Oh, you’re the one who came with Inie. I’m Manang Yen’s nephew. Seen you a few times around. Forgive me for earlier, little kids here like to mess around the boat sometimes.”

He made a seat for her. “ Since Inie can’t make it, I guess it’s good you came. “ He loaded burlap sacks of vegetables and all sorts of other things on the boat and paddled away. He made no flinch when the boat seemed to sink a little more at each load. It seemed harder to leave when he just escorted her peacefully like this.

The ride went slowly on its way to Mutiara. In half a day’s time, they passed the river until they reached the city. Boats and big boats with roofs lined the long brick port. Familiar bustle and noises of the city flooded the air. Men and women walked the streets and children chased each other along the bridge. Vendors hollered their wares laid on the sidewalk. The conversations all melded into each other. Unlike in the island, she’d walk this place and no one would even notice her steps.

Sal wobbled out of the boat and crawled up the dock. One wrong step and she would fall into the water again. Inie then might ask about her if she does fall. The man behind her would save her because she is this visitor.

Then, her foot slipped from the dock. She closed her eyes, expecting water, but what she felt was a hand on her side and on her arm. The man must have held her. He’s looked at her. What face did he make? Disgust? Contempt?Mockery? When his grip moved, Sal was certain he’d pull her back to the boat.

The alleyways across the dock lined up like ant hill holes on a mound. You could get lost in them. Sal wrestled herself free and climbed with great effort before she darted to the closest alley there was.

Down the alley’s confined space, the noises of the city still seeped through. The walls rose high. It was noisy. People passed by and it seemed that at any second, they’d look through the alley, crawl through the space. The alleys were not enough. 

She ran out, perhaps there was a place with walls so high, no eyes could peek at her, a place with no noise. No people. No, nothing at all. Her feet mindlessly wandered and followed wherever there was silence.

She chanced upon the woods. Finally, Only trees and trees all around the place, it stretched far perhaps even to the horizon. Sal lay on the ground. Cool soil under her arms and the sky framed by the tree tops. It’s a familiar sight.

Too familiar perhaps for comfort. A light rustle led her to a small stream. Down further away from the stream, a dirt road passed between the trees. It was too wide for a person but if a carriage winded through it- She shook her head. Following the dirt load led to less and less trees, until there were none. Instead, what stood in front of her was a brick wall covered in moss, weeds and stray vines. It was the wall behind the Casa. 

The silence was loud. The vast expanse of the wall stretched out high to the sky. The ground ended here in this wall, it seemed to say. Sal’s mind was telling her to run away from the place yet her feet stayed planted on the ground, much like the trees that grew here. Never left here. It called to her like a prodigal son. It was unsettling.

Then, something poked out from the vines. At first, it rustled lightly, then something black like a ball appeared between the leaves. After a few minutes, out rolled two men from the wall. They were men with rough faces and tattered clothes.

They looked a little bit like trolls in fairy tales. Sal stood between the trees and waited for them to come for her. Eyes on their feet. Something jangled on their person. It got louder by the second. One of the men yelped. They were here. They were going to get her. But the jangling sound stopped.

Instead it became softer as they ran off. Sal approached the vines when she stepped on something. It was a spoon, a silver spoon from their Casa. When she struck it against a rock, it made a dull jangling sound. The two men disappeared into the woods. It seemed their sack was too small to take her too.

She spied the part of the wall they came out of. Behind the vines was white space. It seemed that the vines covered a hole in the wall too large for a cat to crawl through. She curled herself into a ball to see if she fits. Through the vines, people, constables ran across the yard, circling the place. When they were gone, a man in a yellow checkered suit sauntered off into the place and casually stepped into the back door of the Casa. It was unmistakably Sgr. Comaco.

Sal fell back, yet she could not run. She found herself a voyeur, peeking at her own house. Few moments of ruckus around the house and they could not find her outside the wall. Maybe if she goes in further, they will see her. Like a troll lurking in a bridge. Catch it, beat it with sticks until it harms you no more. She went in, her long tresses tangled with the vines. She fancied herself a vine troll.

Footsteps approached. Sal prepared her feet to spring up at the right moment. When she did, a stranger’s face came at her, going closer, his face looking warped under the vines.

Sal shrieked. She covered her face. She wriggled herself away from tangled vines. A grunt. The sky in her eyes. When she comes into, the trees were upside down. Her back was rested on a weird angle against a tree root. Pain registered in her palms and her knees. Her legs were frozen. Any attempt to move an inch caused pain. In the distance, another jangling sound became softer as it mixed with receding footsteps. More shouts. More yells.

She truly was a doll now. She imagined her body like a thrown doll. Watch the trees and sky from where she lay. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed her.

Ro’s chatty singsong voice rattles in the distance. Sal mustered a voice to utter something. Anything. If he comes, he will take her out there and carry her out to Lea. Lea? What will she say? Sal could hear Lea’s voice that night. What would her face be like when she sees her? Sal gulped. Lea is someone you won’t want to cross.

Just as she was falling asleep. Ro’s voice roused her. He was trying to carry her and the movement roused the pain in Sal’s legs. She yelped. He was asking her things but what came out of her was noise akin to an unruly animal. The contact made her flinch. With her able hand, she swatted his away.

“ What goes there?” Another constable asked. 

Sal stopped, not wanting to call the other’s attention.

“ She’s wounded. I-”

The man inched closer to take a look. The smell of tobacco in the air underlined the mean tone of his voice. His big hand reached out.

Sal tugged on Ro’s shirt. As if in response, he scooted over, blocking the man’s view of her face.

“A scratch here and there. She can’t move her leg either. “ He paused. “ I’ll take care of it.”

The constable groaned. “ Suit yourself. I’ll catch those thieves on my own.”

Ro set it upon himself to check for wounds after she’d sat her back up. Sal’s leg ached. She swatted Ro’s hand with the feeblest effort but he took it and inspected its wounds too.

Ro rambled, “ You know, you sure are lucky. “ He looked at her for response. Nothing. He shifted. “Let’s patch some things here a’right? Lea would say I’m bad at it, but hey, this big man can handle-”

He never seemed to stop. He’d wandered off into his stories again as all Sal bent her attention to the trees in the woods. Numbness flicked at some parts of her skin. They’re small, but it felt painful even when she reminded herself that Ro limped for a while after that visit to the Casa. The two of them, that constable and the braided woman, would fuss over her and she’d be a baby cradled helplessly in their arms. Sal pulled her hand away.

He stopped. The look on his face, Sal did not want to see. She kept her eyes on the ground yet it brought greater notice how he still limped a little when he called for his horse. They’d leave her it seems. Sal would finally be alone, helpless. It should be a relief.

But Ro came back, handed her a water bag to wash the wounds on her hand. Dirt washed off her hands. The cuts on her hands are small to even mention. 

“It was a good thing. You’re lucky, I mean it. Some people like those, looters. They carry knives, big knives at that. Scary to think they would use it on a person.”

Sal stared at her hand. The cuts still hurt despite its size. “ I was careless.”

“No, it was easy to get lost in these woods. They’re not even on the map. Worse yet, none would think this leads to the Cuorre’s Casa.”

Sal turned her head away. “ My leg, I can’t move it.” At that, Ro set to inspecting her leg. Sal hated the sensation, but she was injured. She had been careless.

Ro was able to snag a wagon to carry Sal out of the woods and into town. He said he’d charmed a seller into letting them ride the thing. If the seller was the only person Sal had to put up with throughout the trip, it would’ve been bearable, but that was not the case. The hour ride felt like hours more as people went and surrounded the wagon. Ro’s chirpy voice rang as he imitated the sellers’ hollers on the street and then conversed with the people stopping by.

Sal wished he’d stop. 

Before long, they arrived in front of a row of small, crowded houses. Not quite like huts, but not like casas either. Ro thanked the seller and the seller did too. A few more conversations and Ro has the wagon to himself for a while. He wheeled the wagon further inside the narrow alleys between the houses and came to a small doorway where a tall Casa stood.

It was a tall Casa hidden beneath a plain-looking wall with an old, wooden doorway. Mazes of concrete and vines covered the Casa. There was nary a sound you could hear. Not the rustle of the leaves or a scratch on the ground. No people. It looked like a place out of this earth and Sal would not be surprised if a fairy popped out from one of the pillars. Sal liked the place.

Ro whistled at the doorway. It was soft and a little but familiar, too familiar perhaps that it brought images of a dark night and panic. It was the melody at the Casa. Sal dragged her small body to the edge of the wagon with her small arms. Harsh footsteps rustled across the concrete. Lea’s high-pitched, metallic voice screeched from behind the gate. Sal rushed for the edge. At the first minute, she grasped air and found herself dangling from the wooden rail from the waist up. Her long hair lathered on the yellow earth.

Ro and Lea were yelling, panicking perhaps? Sal could not tell which. Their voices grew louder. Then, their faces were just above her under the bright blue sky.

“I’m flying,” Sal muttered.

“No, you’re seconds away from bleeding your head open from falling into a rock. Now, get up.”

They pulled her to sit. Her teeny wounds ached a bit and distracted her from remembering she was touching skin. But then, Lea devours Sal in an embrace, her arms wrapped tight around her, her big, thin, bony frame covering Sal. Sal was forced to bury herself in her embrace. Soot covered her arms, the smell of sweat and the rustle of her sleeves. She had to get away. 

“Glad to see you again.” Lea started.

Something in her voice stirred something in her. Sal broke up the hold.

Lea turned to Ro who had his arms outstretched. “ I get first dibs on the hugs.” Ro only laughs in reply. “ Alright, older gives way to the younger.

Lea turned her head and immediately set to work on inspecting Sal’s arms and her feet. “ And who gives aid like this. Sprinkle water and finish?”

“ Pardon, it’s because I know the best nurse.”

Sal spied the satisfied smiles on their faces as they talked. They seemed to fight but their smiles removed the bite in their words. Lea then fetched her kits and put some salve on Sal’s wound and tied something on her sprained foot. A trace of brown crowned around Lea’s neck. Sal remembered her disappearing into the dark of the Casa, those doll like men around her,

Sal pulled away her arm. “It’s only a small wound,” she insisted.

“I know,” Lea replied.

“Teeny-weeny” Ro continued.

Their blank casual faces were not helping ease Sal’s confusion. 

“ But you know, I missed all three of us together, right here.”

They were too close. As if any minute, she’d be bound to them like pieces of sticky mud. Her ankle lay numb and the salve sat on her skin like green mud. She counted the momentary nudges Lea did not seem to notice. 

Sal swatted Lea’s hand away. She was not listening. She pushed harder. When it seemed Lea would speak, Sal beat her to it.

“Vadi apsense”

Sal looked at their faces this time. The two were quiet. Half expecting them to reply by the posture of their face, but they sputtered confusion, part of the response she wanted but not quite it. They deciphered her words.

Sal shook off the salve off her hand and despite the pain, pulled herself up to walk. Lea protested, “ What are you doing? You’ll hurt yourself.” Sal only stared in reply and continued to walk on her sprained foot.

“Can’t you understand? You’re fucking weak.”

Sal flinched.

“Go on. Go out there on your own. You think you can survive? You can handle danger on your own, right? Right?” 

The scathing tone in her voice made Sal waver. She’d wished that she could walk out strong, yell and be anyone else. But she was weak. Lea was not wrong.

Yet something else rose in her. She mumbled under her breath in quick slow raps. “ I should not have come. I should not have helped.” She makes an imitation of a yell. “ They came because I helped you. “ Sal repeated herself.” I helped you with the heirloom. Edihna was waiting. Waiting I get in the Casa. The letter. Edihna’s letter. She wanted me in the Casa. “ She looked straight at Lea. “ I helped you.”

 Sal waited for shock to settle in her eyes. 

“ I told you, I could have handled it myself.”

“ I was scared. Of you. That’s why I stayed.”

Lea’s face contorted slowly until the big features ironed into blank lines. She muttered a small alright before she marched out of the place. The usual briskness of her steps was lost. She tripped on the doorway, promptly pushing Ro to come to her aid. 

Sal rushed away before Ro could look at her, or else she’ll have to see Lea limp if she does. Lea always had energy and vigor in her steps like she’ll stomp over the whole world.

Sal jumped from the wagon, her ankles screamed at the ache. All the energy she had expended on the words or finding the words to say. Their voices were not loud enough, their faces were not angry enough, but even if they were, perhaps she’d failed to notice. The angry faces in the books were ugly, rageful drawings. Only if they were angrier, she’d be at least more satisfied.

If Lea did not pay Sal’s cruel words with another, Sal just ought to run. Through the thin, crumbling walls, Lea spoke in half whispers and half yells. All the while, Ro’s voice interjected and pacified her like a melodic flute in between agitated strings.

“She was family, Ro!” Lea said. Ro only replied in words that rang empty to her. “ I gave her a chance. I was desperate. What was I thinking?”

“ At least, we’re all alive and here.”

“You don’t understand.”

More whispers exchanged and at the silence, Sal got the guts or recklessness to barge in, perhaps interrupt, get a scolding or two for her rudeness.

When Sal got to come in, Ro met her at the steps. Sal eyed his injury and studied each detail there was to grasp.

“When Lea calms down, you better apologize. Talk things out and-”

“You must be angry at me now.” Sal gave a long hard look at Ro’s arm. Even more frustrated at his confusion, she pointed it out to him. “ Surely do.”

He postured.” I know you’ve told everyone you’re seventeen, almost married. But don’t you think that’s disrespectful. I’m still your senior by two years at least.”

Sal could look at Ro, there was no trace of vitriol in his voice and yet she felt she had to hang her head in shame. Was it the etiquette and the manners hammered into her or just some incomprehensible state of her being. All there was was that he did not seem happy like before.

“ I almost forgot it because you’re small. Are you sure you’re not a child?” He laughed at himself. “ Now that I look at you. Hmm. Have you seen a kitten? Those cute little things. They hiss not because they are angry. You know what it is?”

Ro waves an arm in the air and points to Sal.

“They’re scared.” 

He lightens a little. “ They’re kind of cute.”

Sal deflated. The seriousness in his voice before has flitted to a light tone. Sal could try and provoke him but she’ll never be as acid in her speech as Lea nor could she hit him and make a dent. Ro’s a big man yet like the bear with all the power to crush a small girl, he’d only stare at her in bemusement.

Sal stayed at her spot even as Ro left to attend again to Lea.

How does one person attend to another without the ties of a familia? How do these separate strangers come to touch and hold a person’s cuts and scars? These characters in stories and myths are even stranger to see in the flesh. How do you help people like clockwork, with no deliberation or thought?

Sal peeked into the window and stood on her toes to see the two tinker and toss all those things they used on her. If only she can see it more, perhaps she’d understand.

Sal spoke, “ Do you want more patients?”