Absolutely Yours

The engine hummed as the car navigated the winding road through dense greenery. The scent of earth and rain lingered in the air. Mark, the driver, tapped the screen of his ringing phone before answering, keeping his eyes on the road. "Hello, Señora," Mark said, his voice steady as he maneuvered around a curve. "Mark, have you arrived at the rest house in Cagamutan?" Señora Elena's voice carried a tone of concern on the other end. "Not yet, Señora. But we're close. About 20 minutes away, I'd say," Mark replied, glancing briefly at his passenger in the rearview mirror. Andrew was slouched in his seat, earbuds in, oblivious to the call. "That's good to hear," Elena said. "I've been trying to reach Andrew since this morning, but it keeps going to voicemail. Hand the phone to him; I need to speak with him." Mark hesitated for a moment before extending his arm. "Señorito, your mother wants to talk to you. She's been calling you all day." Andrew sighed and plucked out his earbuds. "Fine," he muttered, taking the phone. "Hello, Ma," he said, his tone resigned. "What's up?" "Andrew! Finally. I was just checking in to see if you've arrived yet. Mark told me you're still on the road," Elena said, her worry evident. "Yeah, Ma. We're not there yet," Andrew replied. "And my phone's dead-battery's out. That's why you couldn't reach me." "You should've charged it before leaving Manila," Elena scolded lightly. "Anyway, how are you finding the place so far?" "How do you think, Ma? It's boring. There's nothing here but trees and bad reception. Why'd you even send me to this place? I could've stayed in Manila-it's not like I don't know how to keep myself entertained," Andrew complained, his voice rising slightly. Elena exhaled, her patience wearing thin. "Andrew, I've told you already. I have a business trip next week, and I didn't want to leave you alone in the house. The helper isn't a live-in, and you can't just rely on friends dropping by all the time." "You could've just let me stay with my friends in Manila. Why do I have to be out here in the middle of nowhere?" Andrew shot back. "Enough, Andrew," Elena said firmly. "You'll stay there for the summer, and that's final. I made arrangements to make sure you'll be comfortable. The caretaker and Mark's parents will take care of anything you need. And if you get bored, Mark will drive you wherever you want to go." Andrew leaned his head back against the seat, frustrated. "Fine. But it still doesn't change the fact that this place is dull." "I know you'll enjoy it once you settle in. The air is fresh, the food is healthier-it's good for you. Trust me," Elena said, her tone softening. "Give it a chance, anak. It's just for the summer." Andrew paused, feeling a tug of guilt at his mother's effort to reassure him. "Okay, Ma. I'll try," he said begrudgingly. "That's my boy," Elena said, relief in her voice. "Now, I have to get back to work. I'll call you tonight, okay? Take care, Andrew. I love you." "Love you too, Ma. Bye," Andrew replied, handing the phone back to Mark. He stared out the window as the car rolled on, the towering trees blurring into a sea of green. Somewhere deep down, he knew his mother meant well-but that didn't make the summer ahead feel any less daunting. _________________________ Meanwhile, in the serene quiet of the stream, Mika squatted, her oversized shirt and loose jogging pants soaked at the hem. She had tied her hair back under a worn-out bull cap, a testament to many afternoons spent outdoors. Her hands were busy scouring for edible snails, their slimy texture slipping through her fingers before she dropped them into her small basket. The sunlight danced on the water, casting ripples that seemed to mirror the calmness of her heart. These moments, though humble, gave Mika a sense of purpose, knowing that every snail she gathered would fill her family's table that evening. Breaking the silence, Mika called out, her voice carrying across the water. "Paul... Paul! Let's go home. I think I have enough for Nanay and me. Let's go!" Her tone held a mix of urgency and warmth. Paul, a lanky young man with an eternally playful grin, responded lazily, "Hold up! I'm coming." His voice was muffled as he crouched by the stream, his hands fiddling with something shiny-a stone, perhaps, or just another one of his usual distractions. "Mika! Wait up!" Paul's voice jolted her from her thoughts. "What took you so long?" she said, crossing her arms but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. Paul grinned, holding up a shiny, flat stone. "Look what I found! It's shaped like a heart." Mika rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous," she muttered. "Come on. Nanay will be waiting. You're taking forever! Fine, I'm leaving without you. Just catch up later if you can!" she shouted, her frustration mingled with the faintest hint of a grin. She hoisted her basket and started trudging back toward the path home, her feet squishing in the muddy banks as she went. The trail away from the stream was lined with tall grass and wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. Mika's steps quickened; she wanted to reach the road before Paul caught up. But as she rounded a corner, she stopped abruptly, her breath catching in her throat. There, in the middle of a clearing, stood the mango tree. Its trunk was sturdy and rough, and its lush canopy created patches of light and shadow that danced on the ground. Surrounding the base were four large stones, smooth and weathered by time, arranged as if by some unseen hand. Mika's heart swelled at the sight. She had walked past this tree countless times, but it always struck her with its quiet majesty, as if it were waiting to share a secret. _______________________________ The gentle hum of the car engine was a soothing backdrop to the serene countryside Andrew found himself immersed in. His eyes, usually drawn to the dazzling lights and towering buildings of the city, now traced the lush green patterns of the vast fields, patches of wild grass, and sturdy trees dotting the horizon. He couldn't deny the peace he felt-a stark contrast to the unending hustle and chaos he was accustomed to. "Andrew, are you alright, Senyorito?" Mark, the driver, asked with a hint of concern. Andrew turned his gaze from the window, his lips curling into a small smile. "I'm alright, Kuya Mark. But, could we drop the 'Senyorito' thing? It makes me feel...awkward. I'd rather you call me Andrew, especially since I see you more as an older brother than just a driver." Mark chuckled, nodding. "Sure, Andrew." As their conversation shifted, Andrew's attention was caught by a mango tree in the distance, surrounded by four large rocks that seemed strategically placed as if guarding it. There was something captivating about its stature, its golden-green leaves swaying gently in the breeze. It felt like nature's masterpiece. "Kuya Mark," Andrew started, his tone curious, "Is that the place Mama was always talking about? The one where she said if you crossed paths with someone there by chance, that person would be your destiny?" Mark smiled as he glanced at the tree through the rearview mirror. "Yes, that's the spot. The mango tree surrounded by those four stones-they say that anyone you meet there, purely by chance, is the one you're meant to be with." Andrew's expression softened as memories of his mother filled his mind. "Mama always said that's where she met Dad. That they ran into each other under that mango tree and fell in love. She used to say their time together was the happiest of her life before the accident took Dad away three years ago." His voice carried a note of melancholy, but there was an underlying warmth in remembering his parents' story. Mark's face grew thoughtful. "There's an old tale about that mango tree," he began, his voice steady as if reciting a cherished memory. "They say a woman named Pangga, known for her beauty and tireless spirit, fell in love with a man named Manong-a poor poet with a romantic soul. Despite her wealthy parents' disapproval, they vowed to stay together. When their love was forbidden, they fled into the forest and were never seen again. In their place, a mango tree grew, its crescent-shaped fruits said to embody their eternal love, while the tree itself stands as a testament to their unbreakable bond." Andrew leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "That's a sweet story, Kuya Mark. But honestly, I don't buy into all that mystical stuff. A tree has nothing to do with feelings or who you end up loving. It's just nature." He let out a soft laugh. "I mean, I love hearing Mama talk about it and how it brought her and Dad together, but I can't help but find it a bit...amusing." Mark glanced back at Andrew with a knowing smile. "Well, Andrew, not everything has to be logical. Sometimes, it's nice to believe in a little magic-like how your parents found each other." Andrew shrugged, pulling out his phone from his pocket. "Maybe, Kuya. But for now, I think I'll stick with charging my phone. Could you grab my charger from the compartment up front?" Mark chuckled again, shaking his head as he reached for the charger. He reached over to hand Andrew the charger, his focus entirely on the task. He failed to notice Mika stepping out from the narrow path on the right side of the road. Mika, in a hurry, was oblivious to the approaching vehicle. By the time Mark spotted her, it was almost too late. He slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the asphalt. Mika, startled, leapt to the side, landing hard on the grassy verge. Though she avoided being hit, the force of her jump left her sprawled on the ground, shaken and breathless. Mark quickly exited the car, rushing to Mika's side. His face was pale, his voice trembling with concern. "Miss, are you okay? I'm so sorry-I didn't see you coming out of that narrow path. The tall grass blocked my view." Mika pushed herself up, brushing dirt off her clothes. "I'm fine, sir. You didn't hit me. I just... jumped too hard to get out of the way." Mark frowned, his worry evident. "Are you sure? You might be hurt. Let me take you to a clinic, just to be safe." Mika shook her head firmly. "Really, I'm okay. No pain, no injuries. Please, don't worry." From inside the car, Andrew overheard the exchange. He rolled down the window, his impatience spilling out. "Kuya Mark, if she's fine, let's go. It's getting late, and I'm exhausted. I need to rest. And next time, watch where you're driving-you almost got us into trouble." Mika's eyes narrowed as she turned to Andrew. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the evening air. "Excuse me? So it's my fault now that you weren't paying attention? You're the ones driving recklessly, almost causing an accident, and you have the audacity to be angry?" Mark sighed, sensing the tension escalating. He climbed back into the car, but Andrew wasn't done. His glare was icy as he leaned out of the window. "If you don't move, I swear, I'll run you over." Mika stepped closer, her stance defiant. "Try it. Let's see who makes it home alive. You think you own the road? This is my turf, and I won't let some arrogant driver push me around." Andrew smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Big words for someone who just ate dirt." As the car began to pull away, Andrew muttered under his breath, "You're dead." Mika, unbothered, raised both hands, flipping him off with a bold gesture. Her voice rang out, clear and unapologetic. "F. U. C.K. Y. O. U!" Mika stood her ground, watching them drive away into the fading light. Her breath came fast and uneven, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through her veins. And then, she turned back to the narrow path she'd emerged from. Her hand brushed against her bag, now dangling precariously from her shoulder. A tear slipped down her cheek as the full weight of what had just happened settled on her. As Mika dusted herself off and adjusted her disheveled clothes, Paul emerged from the narrow alleyway nearby, his brow furrowed with concern. "Mika, what happened to you? You look like you've been hit by a truck!" he exclaimed, his tone a mixture of alarm and curiosity. Mika let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Almost hit, Paul. A car came out of nowhere, and the driver didn't even bother to slow down! Can you believe that? And then-then he had the nerve to act like it was my fault! If I ever see that arrogant jerk again, I don't know what I'll do... I'm so furious right now." Paul shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line as he listened. "Some people just have no sense of accountability. It's infuriating. But Mika, don't let it consume you. Karma has a way of dealing with people like that." He reached for the basket she was carrying, effortlessly taking it from her hands. "Let me carry this for you. Come on, let's get you home." Mika glanced at him, her frustration softening slightly at his gesture. "Thanks, Paul," she muttered, allowing him to guide her as they began the short walk back to the house. __________________________ Meanwhile, the car turned into a quiet alley near the school. "Andrew, we're here at the resthouse," Mark announced, pulling the car into the sprawling estate. The towering concrete walls and rows of trees surrounding the property gave it an air of exclusivity and grandeur. Andrew leaned forward, his eyes widening as he took in the imposing house that stood at the end of the driveway. "Wow... this place is massive. And it's beautiful." "Yeah, it's big. The house itself is just part of it. Behind it, is a huge pineapple plantation-your family's hacienda. It stretches as far as the eye can see. Aside from my parents and the resthouse caretakers, the hacienda employs a ton of workers." Mark said. Andrew nodded in quiet amazement, his gaze wandering over the manicured lawns and the neatly arranged planters near the entrance. The resthouse radiated a rustic charm, yet it was undeniably modern and meticulously maintained. The car rolled to a stop in the shaded parking lot near the kitchen entrance. Both men stepped out, stretching their legs after the drive. From the kitchen emerged an elderly woman, her face lighting up with joy as she spotted Mark. Without hesitation, she hurried toward him. "Thank goodness you’ve arrived safely!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Mark in a warm embrace. Mark smiled, his exhaustion evident. "Yes, Nanay. It’s been a long journey, especially for Andrew here. Two days on the road from Manila—it’s no joke." The woman, Aling Fe, turned her gaze to Andrew, her eyes softening with affection. "So, this is Senyora Elena’s son? What a handsome young man." Andrew, slightly shy, offered a polite greeting. "Good afternoon, Inay." "Good afternoon to you too, Senyorito Andrew. Come, let’s have some snacks. You must be starving after such a long trip," Aling Fe said cheerfully, taking Andrew’s hand gently and guiding him toward the kitchen. Once they reached the kitchen, the two sat at the wooden table. Aling Fe placed a tray of freshly made suman, puto kutsinta, and steaming hot chocolate made from cacao beans in front of them. Andrew’s eyes widened as he took a sip of the chocolate. "This is amazing! And the kakanin—so delicious." Aling Fe beamed with pride. "Of course, Senyorito. The ingredients are fresh, and everything is made with care. That’s why it tastes so good." Andrew hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Inay, please don’t call me Senyorito. It feels a bit formal. Just Andrew is fine." Aling Fe nodded, her smile never fading. "Alright, Andrew." As they enjoyed their snacks, Aling Fe noticed her youngest son, Paul, entering the kitchen with a basket of freshly gathered snails. "Paul, where have you been? Your Kuya Mark and Andrew, Senyora Elena’s son, have arrived," she called out. Paul approached his mother, bowing his head respectfully to take her hand and press it to his forehead. He then greeted Mark and Andrew with a shy smile before excusing himself to clean the snails and take a bath. Aling Fe turned back to Andrew, her tone curious. "So, Andrew, how old are you?" "I’m sixteen, Inay," Andrew replied. "Paul is fifteen. You two could be good friends. If you ever want to explore the area, Paul can accompany you," Aling Fe suggested warmly. After finishing his afternoon snack, Andrew climbed the stairs to his room. The room was spacious and comfortable, with its own terrace that allowed fresh, soothing air to drift in. He opened the glass doors leading to the terrace for a moment, taking in the greenery and distant mountains, before grabbing his phone to call his mother. “Hi Ma, how are you? I’ve arrived at the resthouse. I’m in my room now, just resting,” Andrew said, his voice calm but filled with warmth. “Hello, Andrew,” his mother replied, her tone carrying both relief and affection. “I’m glad to hear you’ve made it safely. How’s the place? Do you think you’ll enjoy staying there?” Andrew glanced at his surroundings—the elegant yet homey furniture, the gentle sunlight spilling through the curtains, and the faint hum of nature outside. “It’s lovely, Ma. The house is much bigger than I expected, and the air feels so fresh here. The food is great too,” he said, with a hint of appreciation in his voice. “I knew you’d like it. It’s a good place for you to recharge. Just remember to take care of yourself, okay?” she reminded him, her concern evident. “By the way, I’m flying out to Singapore tomorrow for my business trip. I’ll be there for two months, so I’m glad you agreed to take this vacation. Knowing you’re in good hands makes things easier for me.” Andrew nodded, even though his mother couldn’t see him. “Don’t worry about me, Ma. Nanay Fe is really nice, and everything’s been taken care of here. I’ll be fine. Just make sure you stay safe while you’re away. I love you.” “I love you too, Andrew. Alright, I need to finish packing for tomorrow. You take care as well, okay?” she replied, her voice softening. Andrew ended the call and placed his phone on the bedside table. Opening the large wardrobe, he found his clothes neatly folded and organized, a testament to Nanay Fe’s attention to detail. Feeling sticky and uncomfortable from three days without a proper bath, Andrew headed to the bathroom. The moment he stepped under the shower, the cool water cascaded over him, the droplets resembling tiny crystals racing to meet his skin. The sensation was rejuvenating, washing away the exhaustion and grime that clung to him. After drying off and changing into fresh clothes, Andrew sank into the plush bed. The combination of the cold shower and the gentle breeze from the terrace lulled him into a deep, peaceful sleep. __________________________ Meanwhile, downstairs in the kitchen, Nanay Fe was busy preparing dinner. She glanced at the ingredients on the counter—fresh vegetables from the garden, a pot of fragrant stew simmering away—and called out to her son. “Paul, come to the kitchen for a moment!” she called, her voice firm but kind. “What is it, Nanay?” Paul replied as he entered, wiping his hands on a cloth. Nanay Fe handed him a small paper bag filled with chocolates and biscuits. “Take this to Aling Mian. Tell her to come in early tomorrow so we can start harvesting the pineapples at the hacienda first thing in the morning.” Paul took the paper bag, nodding as he understood the instructions. “Got it, Nanay. I’ll head over now.” With that, Paul left the house, walking briskly toward Aling Mian’s cottage as the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of gold and orange. Paul’s knuckles tapped lightly on the wooden door as he called out, “Tao po, tao po! Aling Mian?” His voice echoed faintly in the quiet evening air, accompanied by the rhythmic chirping of crickets. The door creaked open, revealing Aling Mian with her warm yet curious smile. “Oh, Paul! What brings you here tonight? Are you looking for Mika? She’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner.” Before Paul could respond, Aling Mian turned her head and called out into the house, “Mika! Halika, Paul is here!” Soon, Mika appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on a floral apron. Her eyes lit up upon seeing Paul. “Hey, Paul! Come inside,” she urged, her voice cheerful and inviting. Paul shook his head, holding up a brown paper bag. “Thanks, but I won’t be staying long. Nanay asked me to deliver this.” He handed the bag to Aling Mian. Aling Mian accepted it and peeked inside. Her brow furrowed slightly. “What’s in here, Paul?” “Chocolates and biscuits po,” he replied. “It’s pasalubong from Kuya Mark and the son of Señora Elena. Nanay wanted to share them with you. She also asked me to remind you to head to the hacienda early tomorrow. The pineapples are ready for harvesting, and she thought it’s better to start before the sun gets too hot.” A grateful smile spread across Aling Mian’s face. “Ah, that’s thoughtful. Tell your Nanay thank you for the treats. I’ll make sure to go early tomorrow.” Paul nodded, but before leaving, he turned to Mika and added, “By the way, Mika, Nanay said I should help at the hacienda tomorrow. Would you like to come along?” Mika tilted her head and grinned. “Of course! It’ll be fun working together. I’ll be ready first thing in the morning.” ____________________ Meanwhile, in the resthouse at 7:00 PM, the scent of freshly cooked adobo wafted through the dining area. Aling Fe stood near the table, arranging the plates and bowls with practiced precision. She paused, glancing toward the hallway, and called out, “Mark! Could you wake up Andrew for dinner?” Mark nodded and made his way to Andrew’s room. He knocked lightly on the door before stepping inside. Andrew was sprawled on the bed, his breathing deep and steady. Mark hesitated for a moment, then gently called his name. “Andrew? Dinner’s ready.” There was no response. The fatigue of a long journey had clearly taken its toll on Andrew. Mark sighed and returned to the dining area. “He’s still fast asleep. Let’s let him rest. He needs it.” Aling Fe nodded in understanding. “That’s fine. He can eat later if he wakes up hungry.”