The Keeper

The First Step

Anza was very aware of the presence of the man walking beside her. She watched him through her peripheral vision. He's tall, lithe, and fit like an athlete. And while he seemed relaxed, he moves with a certain controlled gait that reminds her of soldiers. And yet, he also has the swag of an athlete.

"My name is Rocco, Rocco Albareda," he said, offering his right hand to her. She stopped and looked up at him, grasping his offered hand. His grip was warm, his hand big enough to envelop hers.

"I'm Anza," she replied. Her voice has faltered as she took a full look at his face. His eyes were almond-shaped, his eye color an odd light brown, framed nicely by straight brows that almost did not taper at the ends. His nose has got a natural bump on it. He's got lean cheeks and a square jaw that reminded her of her father. There was nothing remarkable in the individual features of his face, but combined, the result is more attractive than traditionally handsome.

She cannot quite tell how old he is. He seemed to be both young and mature, but if he would warrant a guess, he would be in his early twenties.

"Do you have a last name, Anza?" he asked, his lips curving in a smile. The sight of it made her retract her earlier description of his facial features. His lips were remarkable. They were full, yet masculine. Most of the men in her family had a thin upper lip.

"S... Soledad," she replied. Uncertain if it was a good idea to tell him her last name. She glanced at him again, gauging her own instinct about him. He looks too young to be an Iztari.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Anza Soledad," he said, covering her hand that he still held with his left, shaking it once again.

"Likewise," she replied. His warm grasp made her feel tingly, so she pulled her hand away and resumed their walk. He fell beside her effortlessly, shortening his gait to match her.

"So, are you from this region, Anza?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'm from the... south," she replied. She does not want to reveal more information about herself.

"South, like Batangas? or like Cebu?" Rocco's eyebrow slightly elevated in question.

"Not as far south as Cebu. Closer to Batangas," she replied. She braced herself for more questions about her location, but Rocco surprised her by dropping the topic.

"So where are we going?" he asked instead.

"Ah, it's a bed space place. Mrs. Bassig recommended it," she replied.

"Bed space? You're no longer staying at Mrs. Bassig's place?" he seemed alarmed at what she told him.

"I cannot afford to stay there. My future salary will not be enough to cover my cost of living," she replied, Her realization was a painful jolt - she is no longer the Anza Soledad who never had to worry about the basic survival needs like food and shelter.

Rocco touched her elbow gently, making her stop. He looked at her intently, as if trying to understand why she needed to work.

"Are you in trouble, Anza?" his question startled her.

She shook her head. "No," she replied. She does not know what else to say.

"Okay. But if you are, let me know. I am your bodyguard, after all," Rocco said, his tone light.

She did not know what to think of that statement, so she continued to walk on. They are a block away from the house that Mrs. Bassig told her about. They found the house exactly where and how it was described. It's a medium-sized house, old, but well maintained, with a nice garden in front, surrounded by a low white fence. There were chickens freely roaming around the garden, and a small triangular structure was set on the ground, a rooster perched on top of it. The wooden gate was low, with a number 32 was painted on it.

The owner, an elderly lady named Teresa, ushered them into her cozy living room. The windows to the house were all open, the short flowery curtains that swayed with the breeze provided privacy to the residents.

"Hija, I have no available beds today. The next available one would be on Tuesday. I can reserve that for you if you are willing to wait," she said after she set the ginger tea and cookies in front of them both.

That is a week away. She felt disappointed, as that would mean she would have to spend more of her money for her accommodation.

"Do you know of any other bed spaces here?" she asked.

"My brother operates one. It's in the next barangay, so it is quite a walk from your workplace. Plus, he accepts male bed-spacers, too, so you might not feel comfortable with that," the elderly lady said, glancing at Rocco beside her.

Rocco was looking at her, too. His face was impassive, but she can sense that he did not like the idea of her sleeping in proximity with strange men. She does not like it either. She looked at Rocco helplessly.

"Manang Teresa, can you give us the phone number of your brother? And yours as well. Maybe Anza needs to think about it?" he suggested. The old lady nodded and wrote the numbers down on a piece of paper, handing it to Rocco.

They took their leave and strolled back to their Airbnb. Her mind busy with juggling her options. A week stay at her current Airbnb could easily cover 5 months of rent in the bed-space place. Maybe she can stay at the other bed-space for a week and then move at Manang Teresa's after.

She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she did not notice when Rocco pulled her to a small cafe. At her puzzled look, he pointed at the sign, "Coffee, remember? I owe you one," he said.

"Okay," she nodded and allowed herself to be pushed gently to a chair.

"So, what would you like?" Rocco asked.

"Mocha or latte," she replied. He nodded and approached the counter.

He came back with two lattes moments later. They sipped their respective cups in silence, when Rocco set his cup down and looked at her.

"Anza. I hope I do not appear a presumptuous prick, and granted that we just met so I still fall in the category of a stranger, but..." he statement faded awkwardly.

"But...?" she asked, not really knowing what he wanted to say.

"I am not comfortable with you sleeping in a house where there are strange men. It sounds dangerous," he said, his face serious. She did not know what to say to that, given that she has the same concerns.

"It does not seem so different from having a room in an Airbnb like Mrs. Bassig's," she said half-heartedly, not trying to justify the bed-space.

"It's different. You get your own room in Mrs. Bassig's. In a bed-space, you may end up sharing a room with others, hopefully all women, but you might just be unlucky enough to bunk in with a man. How will you be able to sleep when you have valuables to guard?" Rocco said, making her feel worse that she even considered a week of that.

"Rocco, an extra week at Mrs. Bassig's is worth 5 months of rent in Manang Teresa. I thought maybe I can handle a week..." she said, her voice fading at the look on Rocco's face.

"I have a suggestion..." he said after a moment.

"What?" she asked.

"If I hire you as my tour guide for a week, at the cost of what you pay your current place, would you do it?" he asked.

"What?... But I am not qualified to be your tour guide... I am also a visitor here. I just arrived. I do not know the area at all," she said weakly, but his offer had her heart pounding with hope.

"Okay, as a travel companion then," he said. His persistence baffled her.

"But... why? Why are you helping me?" she asked, perplexed.

"Why not? Traveling with friends is always better than traveling alone," he reasoned. She looked at him, trying to find a reason to say no. His offer is so tempting.

"But I cannot afford the cost of traveling with you. The transportation, the food, the entrance fees..." she said sadly.

"I will take care of all that. So do not worry," Rocco said. His confidence reassuring.

"It seems so... unfair to you. Taking me with you as you go around means you double your cost, then add to that you pay me every day. It sounds excessive," she said, unwilling to take advantage of him, even if his offer felt like god-sent.

Rocco considered what she said for a moment, thinking.

"Okay, then while we are traveling together, would you consider telling me about you? I will pay for your stories and that would cover the cost of the travel. Your daily fee will be for the companionship," he said. He made it sound like a fair trade.

"What happens if you tire of my company, or I bore you with my stories?" she asked.

"That is the risk I have to take... So, is that a deal?" he asked.

There is no reason to say no. It would solve her problem, and she has another week of staying in relative comfort. And much as she wants to ignore it, he's been pleasant so far, and he intrigued her.

She offered her hand, and they shook on it. "Deal!"

"When do we start?" she asked.

"Today is good," he said.

"No, it's almost the end of the day, you won't get your days’ worth. Why don't we officially start tomorrow?" she said.

"Well, I am already enjoying your company now, so I'd be the one taking advantage of you if we do not start today," he said.

"Take today as an activity between friends, it costs nothing," she said. It is the least that she can give him.

"So, can we spend dinner as friends as well?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. She felt the full blast of his charm, and a frisson of alarm run through her.

In her panic, she merely nodded. Her throat felt a little constricted for words.

***

Rocco was pleased with himself. He had secured Anza's safety and gained her trust. Now, he found a way to get to know her and discover the best way to convince her to go back home to her parents.

He debated whether he should tell her father tonight that he found her. Manuel Soledad might preempt his plans and ruin everything. But he would have to say something to Mr. Soledad later, or he might just fly in and show up unannounced. He then settled on sending him a text message to inform him he is still tracing the leads that would lead to her.

Edrigu Orzabal is a different matter. He does not like to lie to his mentor. He had informed him last night that he was flying to Basco because he had confirmation that he can find her here. He decided to buy some time before he calls him. Maybe something would happen that would necessitate a call for some advice. His mentor would assume that he was still looking for Anza today, and the reason he did not call is that there is nothing yet to report.

He will meet Anza at six p.m., so he has two hours to shower, change and prepare for the eventualities. He had taken enough human viscera to last him a week. There is no source here in Batanes. The population of the entire island cannot sustain any Aswang living here. He must convince Anza before the week is out because he would need to be back on the mainland to get his sustenance.

As he sat down with his tablet, recording the details of what Anza had told him so far, plus his own observations about her, he realized that she was not what he had expected. He thought she would be bratty. He half expected her to give up and go home before he can find her - that was the foremost reason he was in a hurry to beat her to it. He wanted to earn the resolution of the case, rather than for it to get resolved on its own.

Based on what he saw from her yesterday, before he realized that it was her, he thought she had grit, and it energized her to continue on. This girl would not give up, and if he had not been lucky yesterday to have been in the right place at the right time, he probably would have run out of time looking for her.

***

Anza was still in a daze. She felt breathless with the idea of having dinner with Rocco. Her pulse has not slowed down even after she had showered. She did it on autopilot. She was not even sure if she shampooed her hair. She's just relying on the feel as she wriggled her fingers through, drying them upside down under the blast of the electric fan.

No boy, human or Aswang had ever expressed interest in her before, so the first shown to her by an attractive man created this heady feeling. She is unused to it. Come to think of it, it was just a feeling a little more intense than what she had for her cousin Drew. Maybe it was different because he's a complete stranger. Perhaps he's just a decent guy who feels sorry for her, and maybe she reminds him of his sister.

With a sigh, she straightened up and flipped her hair back. The electric fan had dried it enough. The drying method gave her hair the body that she expected. She brushed it back into place, securing the front pieces behind her head with a barrette. The baby hairs that grew around her face refused to be tamed without the aid of a hairspray so she gave up. This will have to do.

She cannot behave around Rocco like her giggly classmates whenever they see a boy. It's distasteful and humiliating. She would probably embarrass Rocco, and it would make their daily interaction awkward. She would look at him like an older brother, one that she wished she had. She would treat him like how she treats cousin Drew, after all, there was nothing exceptionally different in how he treated her so far from what how her cousin did in the past.

She spent the next couple of hours on an emotional seesaw between diverting herself from getting too excited about the dinner, to imagining different scenarios, and chastising herself. After a week, Rocco may leave Basco, and she would have to focus on her goal to be independent. His friendship, her first ever outside of her limited sphere, formed naturally, is a good beginning to her new life. Hopefully, the memories that will be made of this would be worth remembering for the years to come. She felt human already.

***

Rocco was already waiting in the lobby when she arrived. That surprised her because she had left her room early. She was expecting to wait for him. He waved at her from the distance, a delighted smile wide on his face. He had changed into faded gray jeans, a dark blue T-shirt under a gray hoodie that was unzipped at the front. He looked carefree and young.

"Hungry?" he asked as she came closer. She nodded in response. It was the best explanation for her being early, and why he was earlier than her.

He took her hand and pulled her with him. Like an older brother would do to his younger sister. She simply went along. He walked her to a motorcycle parked at the side of the entrance and handed her a helmet.

She hesitated, unable to hide a slight alarm at the idea. She had never ridden a motorcycle before. The helmet was till in his hand, waiting for her to accept it. His smile was both encouraging and challenging.

She took the helmet and put it on. Rocco had to help her adjust and fasten the helmet properly, but with the challenge accepted, her sense of bravery kicked up a notch. Her anticipation of the motorbike ride replaced some of her fears.

As she straddled the bike behind him, she does not know where to attribute the thrill that coursed through her body, whether it is the upcoming ride, or the unfamiliar sensation of being pressed close to a male body.

The ride was brief, but the newness of the experience made it felt drawn out, yet fleeting. The surrounding sights went in a blur, her focus on the feeling rather than the view. When they reached their destination, it surprised her. She was expecting a simple neighborhood eatery. Instead, they went to one that looked like a must go for tourists.

The restaurant was perched atop a hill and offered a stunning view of Vayang Rolling Hills. It was constructed from packed earth, bamboo and wood. It had the thatched roof characteristic of the native Ivatan houses in the area.

The location provided enough breeze to cool the place. There was a small blackboard by the entrance that had the specials for the day - grilled flying fish served on Kabaya leaf and coconut crabs cooked in coconut milk.

The wait staff ushered them to a table near the window. There were about eight tables in the restaurant, four were already occupied. The air smelled lightly of turmeric, coconut, banana leaves and sea air.

"I don't know about you, but I find today's special hard to resist. Do you like seafood?" Rocco asked, his eyes twinkling.

"I was thinking the same. I've never had flying fish and coconut crab before," she said, unable to curb her own excitement.

"Okay, let's get those, and maybe some Luñis," he said.

"What is a Luñis?" she asked. Everything in this island cuisine-wise is strange to her, but nothing can be stranger than what the Aswangs partake regularly.

"It's an indigenous dish of preserved pork, usually served fried, crispy and paired with turmeric rice," he replied.

"How do you know all this?" she asked, amazed that he knew so much at such a short time.

"Google. I tend to deploy it prior to my visit to any place," he said, smugly. "Did you not do the same before you came here?" he asked.

"No. My decision to come here was... an impulse," she replied shortly.

"Why? What brought you here? It seems such a long way away from where you were from - the south close to Batangas?" he asked, his gaze friendly and curious.

"I will tell you tomorrow, when I am officially in your employ," she said lightly. She will avoid answering that question as much as she can, evade it with every means she has.

He looked at her intently, then shrugged his shoulders. "Fair enough." He got back to perusing the menu. She did the same.

***

Rocco was glad that he had already chosen what he wanted to eat when he saw the blackboard earlier. He was not really reading the menu. He was trying to sense Anza's mood. She came out relaxed, fresh-faced and every bit the sixteen-year-old that she is. But there is something about her that appealed to him - a mixture of vulnerability and fire. There was something steely in the way she walked out into the lobby tonight.

She was reluctant to get on the motorbike earlier. He's not really surprised. It is not the safest form of transportation for most people, and she is a sheltered young woman who was used to the chauffeured, four-wheel kind. He likes bikes, but would have rented a car if there was one available. It was the fire he saw in her earlier that made him goad her. He had a feeling that she would accept his challenge. And he was right.

He was glad to have chosen this restaurant. He saw that Anza did not expect it. He smiled to himself when he recalled her expression. She liked this place. He believes that keeping her off-balance with little pleasures and acts of kindness will develop the trust that he needed from her. She needs to reach the point where his words would have enough sway on her decisions. She needed to come home voluntarily.

"Are you ready to order?" he asked. She said she was hungry earlier. He remembered she just had noodles for lunch, and because she was upset then, she might not have finished her food. As far as he knows, she only had a cup of coffee.

She smiled and nodded at him, putting her menu down. He beckoned the waiter over and ordered both the coconut crab and the flying fish, and an order of Luñis.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

She did not respond immediately, instead, her eyes were full of speculation.

"Will you order a beer?" she asked.

"For you? No, you're too young," he immediately replied.

"Not for me, for you?" she said, her upper lip curled in mild annoyance that made him smile.

"Well, yeah, I am having a beer..." he said, not really sure why she asked.

"I'd like to take a sip out of yours... Just for experience," she said.

"Ah... I guess that is okay. I will give you a sip. But what would you like to drink?" he asked. He felt slightly pleased and somewhat guilty that Anza is using him to test her new independence. This meant that she is trusting him.

"I will have Kalamansi juice," she said with a smile.

The waiter came with their drinks five minutes later. She was looking expectantly on his beer, which arrived ice cold. Her glance flew into his face when he made no move to hand the bottle over. With a chuckle, he pushed it to her.

Her own excited chuckle escaped her as she lifted the bottle to her lips too quickly. He did not have enough time to warn her, as he watched her take a huge gulp and swallow the icy liquid. She promptly spluttered and snorted the beer out of her mouth and nose, her body wracked with cough, her eyes watering.

He found it impossible not to laugh even as he patted her back gently and gave her his handkerchief. Anza glared at him through teary eyes. As her cough subsided, she took a sip of water from the glass that he handed her, holding the bottom to control the amount that she could take. She did not resist. That pleased him. Already, she trusts him more.

The waiter was hovering to wipe the splatter of beer on the table, but he motioned him away. He does not want Anza to feel more embarrassed. Her cheeks are now adorably red as she looked across from her and saw that the people on the next table were watching her. He wiped the table off with the napkins himself.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he watched her dab his handkerchief on her cheeks and eyes. Her coughing has stopped.

She nodded, looking mortified still. He grinned at her. He cannot help it. She looked so adorable with her red-rimmed eyes, a flush of high color on her face and neck, defiance in her jawline.

"What do you think of the beer?" he asked, trying to keep his face straight.

"It was painful, especially up the nose," she said, her expression dead pan, until he saw her lips quiver. For a split second, he thought she would cry. His gaze flew to her eyes in alarm. He was relieved to see she was trying to stop herself from laughing.

"You were not supposed to snort the beer, Anza," he said, in a tone reminiscent of a professor.

"The beer had a mind of its own. I wanted it to go down my throat, but it decided to travel up instead," she said. The humor of the incident sparkled clear in her eyes.

As he looked at her face, the inner fire that he saw in her seemed to have set her alight from within. She practically glowed. At that moment, he had a glimpse of what she could look like when she has fully grown into her womanhood. And it stirred something in him.

Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their food. The smell of the grilled flying fish came with the scent of heated banana leaves and a hint of citrus. The crabs looked deliciously rich bathed in coconut cream. The golden brown pork dish was mouthwatering.

They tucked into their food in relative silence. Anza was obviously hungry as he watched her eat with complete absorption and enjoyment. He found her little eating habits fascinating. She would taste a new dish singularly - she'd put it in her mouth, close her eyes, inhale deep then hum under her breath as if she was engaging her sense of smell, touch and taste all in one go. She does not just eat her food; she experiences them.

It amused him to see her suck the flesh out of the crab claws. Her delight in it was contagious that he ended up copying her. It became a game of who slurps the loudest. For him, this was the first meal he'd had that became more than just eating. It became a moment to remember. 

***

The sparkle in her eyes told him all was right in her world at that moment. She was happy. It sent a glad note to his heart, and with it a sliver of apprehension. She might get used to this human life and that would make it hard for him to convince her to come home to her parents, to their kind, their world and its veiled existence.

With their bellies full of food and merriment, they capped the night with coffee and enjoy it over the lookout point. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the slight chill in the air paired with the hot coffee was very calming.

"That was a wonderful dinner," Anza said, glancing up at him. Her hair was now down from its earlier ponytail. The helmet had dislodged it. The wind whipped it about her face, making it a challenge for her to drink her coffee in peace. He could not resist smoothing a few strands of it off of her cheeks and mouth.

She handed her cup to him as she self-consciously clipped it back in a low ponytail, tucking the shorter baby hairs that grew around her face behind her ears. She looked like the sixteen-year-old that she is, and he felt a twinge of regret. She's still a baby. And the object of his mission. It's unseemly for him to develop a crush on a high-school student.

"What was your favorite dish?" he asked, to keep his mind off of its present preoccupation.

She paused to think. "Hmm... I cannot decide. I like them all," she replied.

"If you can only order one dish when we eat next, which among the three would you reorder?" he asked, persisting.

"I think...the crab," she replied, smiling up at him.

He got reminded of their slurping game and smiled back. "Yes, me too. It's a pity that it's an endangered species and we cannot eat them regularly," he said. They tried to reorder another, but they were told that they were limited to one.

"Yes, that was sad. But I heartily support that rule. It's for the good of the specie," she replied.

"Are you a rule-breaker or a law-abiding citizen?" he asked, facing her now completely. He handed her coffee back to her.

That gave her pause, although her stance was still relaxed. She took a sip from her cup and sighed. The sound of it lighthearted.

"I've never broken a law. I've always abided by it... but," she was unable to continue.

"But not today?" he asked, gently. He kept his expression non-judgmental. He wanted her to open up.

She looked up at him, judging if she can take the step of trusting him with her secrets. "Yes. not today," she nodded.

"So, will you tell me why you came to be here, where you are so far away from home?" he asked, staring at her.

She tucked the strand of hair that the breeze had freed from behind her ear before she replied. "I ran away from home, and decided to come here and be independent," she replied. It would not be a good idea to tell the first human she connected with about her bloodline. It might just send him running to the hills below.

Rocco's expression was unreadable as he remained staring at her. He put his cooling cup down before he asked, "What made you run away from home?"

"I cannot tell you," she replied softly. Her heart tight, hoping he would accept her response and leave it at that.

"Is it something that can be resolved?" he asked.

"I do not know," she replied. Her words true. Rocco's face turned serious, his frown prominent.

"Anza, are you getting hurt at home? Are you in any danger?" he asked, as if the idea just came to him and he was afraid for her. She felt touched by the concern.

She shook her head. "No, Rocco. I am not in any danger. And I was not getting abused at home. I... just cannot live the same way. I am different from them, and I have to face the fact. Eventually, I will have to leave them anyway, I just want to have an early start, and not get too dependent on their presence. It is better to do it now while I am young and able," she said. It was the most that she can tell him.

She looked up and was struck by the expression on Rocco's face. It was like he just saw her for the first time. And yet the way he angled his head as he fixed her with a penetrating stare made her feel like a revelation to him.

"Do you not think your parents will be anxious about you?" he asked, concern was etched in his frown.

"I had planned to send word to them I am okay. Hopefully, it will suffice," she said. 

"That would not suffice. You are very young, and pardon me for saying so, but you do not strike me as someone who is used to this... spartan kind of life," he said.

She smiled weakly at that. Mrs. Bassig made the same comment to her earlier. And it was her obvious naivete that convinced Mrs. Bassig to offer her a trainee position as front desk and guest relations officer for the next six months.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked. "that I am inexperienced?"

"Hell, yeah! You look like a child, a sheltered child," he said. His voice had increased in intensity.

"I'm not a child. I am already sixteen. Most people call me a young woman!" she replied, bristling and indignant.

Rocco sighed and reached out to take her icy hands between his.

"Anza, for most parents, sixteen is still a child. And you look younger than sixteen," he said.

"Well, I'm sixteen. And I cannot help that I have baby face genes in me," she said, pulling her hand from his and turning away.

Rocco grasped her shoulders and turned her back to him.

"I believe you, so don't throw tantrums to prove it. It's counterproductive," he said, a smile on his face.

She cannot argue with that logic.