Ronoele's Tree

Unfinished Job

A gentle tap on her cheek woke Olga up in a nipa hut. She squinted at the ray of light passing through the open window made of bamboo. She tried to get up when something poked her forehead and rolled her eyes to see what was above her and tried to scream at the sight of a dark beak. Tried to because a piece of cloth that tasted like her own fearful sweat gagged her mouth.

“Help!”

She abruptly rose because of being startled, just to be surprised that her movement had been restrained. The scent of her own perfume filled her nostrils while the icy air coming from the slits on the bamboo floor made its way to her every pore, sending vein freezing distress. Her wrists were still tied together on her back.

“I need to escape!”

Yes, escaping may be the best idea, but lame. She stood, only to stumble face-first on the floor—almost breaking the bridge of her nose. Poor Olga couldn’t even massage her precious asset. Hot metallic scent trickled down her treasured face.

“No, my nose! Damn that stranger for doing this to me! I’ll make sure he’ll pay for what he did!”

She crawled and rolled like a snake on the floor, finding the door, but her heart sank when her eyes saw nothing but hopelessness. She slammed her legs, rolled on her side, and wept while in a fetal position.

“Daddy, help me.” Exhaustion enveloped her in an embrace never-ending, and she succumbed to another slumber with tears in her eyes.

***

“Sammy! Sammy!” Aling Pasing trudged into the living room, not minding the growling dogs inside their cages. “Where’s your daughter?” Her voice boomed in the room, reverberating like tsunami waves crushing the silent shore.

‘Here goes the nagger.’ Sammy stumbled on his way out of the kitchen several times as he rushed towards his mother-in-law in the living room.

“She’s not here,” he said, wiping his wet hands on his shorts. He was washing the dishes after preparing breakfast.

“Where could that brat be?” she stomped her feet on the tiled floor, wincing in pain she dared not show. “She got me humiliated for her foolish desires.” She inhaled to fill her lungs with as much air as she could hold, but just enough for them not to burst.

“What do you mean?” Sammy replied, trying his best not to sound sarcastic even though his guts were as tight as knots n annoyance to the old lady whose loosed fat arms wiggled like jelly.

“I went to Manolo’s house and got disgraced by that man. I dared speak to a family who barely had food on their table just to get her the husband she desired.” She clenched her fists: her red nails digging into her palms. She only let go when the image of ruined nail polish crossed her mind.

“Don’t go too far spoiling her,” he said. But at the back of his mind, he was saying, ‘Serves you right for being an all-talk-nosy mother-in-law.’

He talked a little after that because he wasn’t even interested in her gossip, nor her surprise unwanted visit. He gave her a blank stare, which she was about to decipher whether she had to keep talking or start stepping out of the house. But her mouth kept on blabbering, not getting the hint.

“I have to do something for my granddaughter’s happiness. I’m not like you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her left eyebrows almost reached her hairline.

“You know what mom,” he responded sweetly. “Sometimes, mind your own business.” He turned his back on her and threatened to open the cages of the mad dogs before going back to the kitchen.

“You!” The old woman pointed her shaking finger to Sammy while taking a few steps back to the entrance door, which will be her exit. Sammy grinned in victory for driving her away, but the thought of Olga not calling him somehow bothered him.

***

Prickling sun rays from the nipa roof burn Olga’s cheeks, waking her under the intense temperature with a desert in her throat. Her lips too were cracked like a once lushed fields that had experienced extreme drought. She opened her heavy eyelids, but she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday.

‘Why did I even think of being on a diet?’

Her body itched because of the dusty floor, not to mention the biting sore caused by the scratches she gained from the bushes she was hiding in the other night. Running and terror drained her energy, not to mention the poison from the snakebite that was slowly spreading through her system. Purple bruises with red and blue discoloration had worsened at the bitten site, worsening the tingling and burning sensation.

‘I’m lucky. I’m still alive. All I need to worry about now is my escape. But how?’

She scanned the hut again to double-check if her eyes had toyed with her the other day; unfortunately, the only entrance she could see was the window, which was a few meters away from her.

Just thinking about her escape decreased her remaining energy level, that all she could do was cry as if doing so could lessen the excess baggage of despair she had. She sluggishly rolled, that her face was on the slits of the bamboo floor, to peek at what she could see underneath. To her disappointment, only old chicken manure lay there, causing her stomach to turn.

She closed her eyes, looking forward that miracle could happen amidst her miserable situation: she was left naked, cold, and starving for the second day with only her undergarments on.

Moments later, approaching footsteps and whispers made her blood flow lively again. She listened carefully to where the sound came from and rolled to that side of the nipa hut, peeking into the slits of the wall.

The murmurs became more audible, and Olga saw the opportunity she was waiting for: SCREAM HELP. But it wasn’t possible because of her gag. She peeped again and was disappointed that the men approaching were Oscar and his friend who were both infamous for being perverts.

‘I will either end up dead or raped.’

She was torn between banging the walls with her body to get their attention or just waiting for them to leave and doing her best to escape. Her blurry eyes were swollen wells releasing hopeless, salty tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mind, as well, was fogged with the thought that if she managed to get Oscar’s and his friend’s attention, she might be abused which could be even more devastating than being trapped and tied.

‘I guess I’ll die a bitter death here.’

She smirked at the idea that she opted to die than to get devoured alive by molesters.

Olga sensed they stopped nearby because their voices became louder. If earlier she was enthusiastic to cry for help, their close presence made her held her breath in fear of being heard by the two bystanders.

She peered through the slit again to know where they stood. She gasped when Oscar’s shoulder and neck came into view.

‘He’s so close! I shouldn’t make any noise.’

She pressed her ears to the wall even more to hear all they had to say.

“Have you seen old Damian’s daughter, Natalie?”

Olga heard Oscar’s question, but his voice and the meaning behind the question were evident. His tone alone sent the chilling vibes of a dark plan getting ready.

“What about her?” his friend asked, although he exactly knew what Oscar had in mind.

“You know I like fierce girls, right?” Oscar said, licking his lips. “She’s a criminology student, and I’m sure she has superb fighting skills. I wonder how she fights in bed, too. You know what I’m saying, man.” He gave his friend a devilish grin and tapped his shoulder.

“Nah, I don’t think it would be a good idea. Her boyfriend, Manolo, is a police officer, too. I don’t want to end up in jail, man. I’ll just go with Olga. With her ass and two mounds in front, uh!”

Terror gripped Olga’s heart. She had all the reasons not to get caught, or else she would meet her demise the sooner.

***

It was almost sundown, but Sammy hadn’t heard of his daughter yet.

“Where could she be?”

He took his pistol from his drawer, getting ready in case he would need it. He wiped off some of the dust from it and caressed the gun as if he had missed holding it. Walking to the door, he dialed Olga’s number, but it was out of the coverage area. As much as he wanted to contact Edna, he couldn’t because only Olga and he owned a mobile phone since not most people in their village could afford it.

“She didn’t tell me she’ll have two days with friends.” He took a deep breath, went to the garage, and squeezed his belly and butt in his red Mahindra Scorpio.

He cursed under his breath as he glanced at the rocky road he was driving on. He clicked his tongue whenever he jumped and bumped on his seat because of the bouncy ride caused by the pothole road.

“What a nice day to be out on a ride with free loose powder!”

His newly washed auburn-dyed hair turned spotty white with the dust from the open window of his big guy. He didn’t pull the windows down for everyone to see who was driving an expensive car in a destitute village.

He sneered when he passed by the road where the canopy of the dead oak tree came into view.

“Hmph! Tale as old as folklore.”

***

“WHAT?!”

Sammy’s temper rose when he reached Renato’s house, but didn’t see Olga there.

“It’s true uncle Sam. Olga didn’t show up,” Edna said when Sammy didn’t believe her father. “I had been waiting for her all night, but she didn’t come.”

Sammy gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, but he couldn’t curse out loud—he was not in his own house.

“The last time we talked, she said she was going to stalk and seduce Manolo no matter what.”

“What the—” he didn’t finish the line because Renato glared at him with a smoking nose like a mad dragon, ready to burn him once he uttered an unpleasant word in front of his daughter. “Is she really that desperate?! No wonder my mother-in-law is nuts, too. Where does he often go?”

“The oak tree.”

After Edna answered his question, Sammy left right away and sped his way to the place he hadn’t set foot on for a long time.

“Olga!”

Sammy frantically called for his daughter, treading heavily on the withered leaves and grasses near the oak tree. Fallen branches and twigs from it broke under the hard sole of his boots.

“Damn it! Where are you?”

He split the tall cogon grass to have better access to the view of the area, not minding the spiky blades lightly lashing his arms and face. He walked closer to where the tree stood and ran at full speed to get to it when he saw Olga’s phone inserted between the huge roots sticking out the ground.

He picked the phone and checked if it was still working. Some web-like cracks on the screen were visible under the glimmer of the setting sun, giving off a vibe that something sinister lurked, as the branches of the oak tree danced with the humid afternoon wind.

***

Damian stayed by the doorway, waiting for Natalie to arrive. He was holding his cane in his right hand while his free hand steadied on his wheelchair.

“What’s with the cane?”

If only he wasn’t paralyzed, he could’ve jumped from being startled by Teddy’s voice coming from behind.

“Oh, there you are. This was for you, for not finishing the stairs. Now, come here.” He rolled his wheels and jokingly aim to hit Teddy with his stick. Teddy laughed and pretended to run away in slow motion.

Damian came to his son but hit the floor instead.

“What’s taking Natalie long?” he asked.

“Well, she sure is busy, or perhaps she’s letting me finish my job first before coming back,” Teddy said with a stern face… a look Damian didn’t like to see ever.

“What job?” he asked, hoping he would hear an acceptable response.

“The stairs, of course. What other job do I have here?” He smirked, which Damian hated the most. Because the moment Teddy did that, he was probably up to something. And that something wasn’t definitely pleasant.