The Little Black Hen And Other Stories
My attempt to write a story within a story within a story within a story….. (nested story)
by: Veneraldo Apelo
One lazy Saturday afternoon, I was tasked to look after my youngest daughter, age 5, while my wife was away for a dentist appointment.
It was a good thing that my wife made sure that I still have a few bottles of beer while doing this errand. So I grabbed one and accompanied my daughter to the front of the house where she would draw and paint everything she could see; from the clouds, trees, plants, wild boars, cats and the fishes in the aquarium.
These kept her busy for about an hour or so while I enjoyed the cold beers and the cool summer breeze. Apart from the occasional shrieks from her whenever the cat named Maw tried to drink the cup of water she was using for water coloring, everything was a cool and easy-peasy baby sitting of that sort.
I figured that maybe the cat was really thirsty after a couple of attempts to sip down on the watercolor cup, so I got up from my seat and hosed down and filled the cat’s bowl to a brim and whisked Maw to drink from it instead. Occasionally, I could see this cat drinking directly from the aquarium and enjoying the fish flavored water.
Maw, an unusually big orange tomcat, is not really our cat. It belonged to our neighbor who had moved to Tagaytay; I remember that they even bought a cage for transporting the cat but Maw was nowhere to be found on that fateful moving day and then was sadly left behind.
On many days, we could see Maw just sitting there in front of the neighbor’s house, awaiting for its master’s return and some nights we could hear it making a loud disturbing cry followed by scratching on the neighbor’s door; maybe it realized that its master will never come back or it finally learned the concept of time.
Another neighbor tried to feed and adopt the cat and named it Gabby as the namesake of its owner but for some reason it decided to crash and stay with us. It could be that this cat likes children as I had a recollection of it faithfully following it’s master’s son like a dog during a stroll to a nearby sari-sari store.
Anyway, it had grown old with us and became part of the family and was named Maw by the kids as it made a few strange and funny sounds like maw..maw..maw (as if with an accent) every time you start feeding it. Even my eldest daughter would be puzzled and ask why was it making that unusual sound and to which came a quick reply from my youngest daughter that Maw was actually saying grace and thank you before eating. And then of course, my wise cracking son (who does not believe in tooth fairies) would interject: “What? Do you speak cat now? OK, tell Maw elbows off the table”
After painting the fishes in the aquarium, she then told me that we now need to feed them as they were already hungry. I picked up and opened the fish food canister and after we found out that it was already empty, she went on convincing me that we should go to Pet Matters right away and buy it.
Concerned with the “starving” fishes, she went on looking for ants, grabbed one from the line, ran and tossed it to the aquarium.
She did it a few times while I watched in awe. I told her to be careful as bites from these red ants can be painfully nasty. She then got an idea and picked up a leaf and put those ants on it like a boat and tossed it in the aquarium.
By the way, on a side note, you may be wondering what kind of precious fish do we have; well, we found out they were just feeders. My wife and the kids went on to Pet Matters and they spotted these fishes, unknowing that they were just feeders for arwana or maybe for other expensive fishes. They were quite cheap by the dozens, and everyone was happy including the purse. So, it came to pass that whenever the fishes die, we will just hit the pet shop and buy replacements.
Then on one occasion, my wife came to learn about it when one of the storekeepers asked her how many arwanas she has after buying the feeders. We have had quite a long laugh about it but we still continue on just buying the feeders every time.
To be continued….
I bent down, removed my eyeglasses and moved my head closer to the aquarium to observe further as I got curious as to what would happen to the leaf-riding ants surrounded by giant hungry fishes. I could see the ants crawling up and down like crazy while half of the leaf was now submerged. It was going to sink very soon and I was in a trance like engrossity (not sure if there is such an adjective or word but this will do fine for now; will just edit later) as this tragedy unfolded from my blurry eyes.
The leaf was suddenly transformed into the Titanic and I was transported back in time as well.
H.G. Wells (one of my favorite author) was right; there is really a time machine and IMHO, it is just your brain cells loading up the memories of your life or possibly past life if your brain cells partition was not properly formatted and overwritten with all ones or zeroes using DD or any such appropriate Linux tools resulting to preservation of old data fragments that did not belong to you.
I was suddenly back in the year 1998 and I could see the Titanic sinking before my very eyes.
What? Hold on.. hold on, I’ll have to stop you there!
You might say that the sinking of the RMS Titanic occurred in April 1912 and not in 1998 while holding your smartphone and googling Titanic.
And yes, you are correct but I was really transported back in 1998 and I was on a bus going home from work and the video on board was in fact playing the Titanic movie.
Shall I continue now if you have no more questions?
Alrighty then.
It was the year when the first SkyWay between Magallanes and Bicutan in South Luzon expressway was just opened after long harrowing years of traffic jams during its construction. It was also the year that I first saw Kate Winslet being painted wearing only this (a necklace called heart of the ocean) and crikey … realized that I indeed have a pornographic memory of some sort or maybe it was embedded in every man’s DNA.
I was traveling with my older colleague who also resided in my hometown Binan, Laguna and would always quiz me philosophically on why really the Titanic sank and who’s fault it was? And I would give him several answers and every time he would just shake his head blurting out that I was not watching closely enough. I was really determined to find the correct answers and after watching it several times, it finally occurred to me and excitedly gave the correct answers to him which he immediately acknowledged by a nod and smile.
At first, I thought he was only pulling my leg as he was not a serious kind of person like his father who loved to crack jokes and play pranks of any kind.
His father, an old gray haired man in his seventies, was actually the one who mentored me on old crossbar switches manufactured by L.M. Ericsson while working for a local exchange operator in our hometown many years ago; it was right after I graduated from Mapua Institute of Technology.
Every morning, in a clockwork precision, he would walk past each row of telecom equipment racks and would listen intently to the relay clicks as if it was a symphony to his ears and then would tell me by heart the exact coordinates of each module that I needed to bring down and clean. And after that, he would sit silently to his corner and I would bring his usual coffee and crackers. I would then commence working on the list of coordinates he had given. I had learned that he was already retired then but he insisted on continuing to report for work even without pay as he did not want to be idle.
The company, on their part, agreed and just gave him allowances out of respect as he was one of the pioneers with telephony technical expertise. He kept on coming to work until the day he passed away.
But from time to time, he would visit and haunt the equipment room, surprising and scaring the shit out of the graveyard on duty technicians.
His son, who became my colleague at Philips, had lost his sense of humor when he lost his young son to nature. After high school graduation, his son went swimming with his classmates and tragically drowned in a spring called Ulong Tubig (literal translation is Head Water).
This spring is located in Carmona, Cavite which is very near to Binan, Laguna. Ulong Tubig is actually a pool formed by natural spring water emanating from the adjacent hill. The area is surrounded by coconut trees effectively shading the pool.
Legend has it that this cold hearted spring was enchanted and countless lives were already claimed by it and there were even rumors that it was being used by nearby funeral parlors to cleanse and bathe the cadavers they brought there during moonlit nights. But these kwentong kutsero or cuchero in Tagalog and Spanish (literally translated as horse carriage driver’s story but figuratively equivalent to barbershop talk or sometimes old wives tale in English; it was pretty amusing why that is. Well, the progression I can think of is that the coachman told this scary story to his passenger and then dropped him off in a barbershop where he retold the story while having his haircut done and when the barber arrived home late after a Friday drinking session in the pub, he told this bone chilling story as an excuse to his old wife who is holding a big pan with embossed word clearly written on it Friday) did not discourage people to enjoy its refreshing cold water specially on very hot summer days.
Like a rite of passage from boyhood to manhood, it was a tradition from our hometown to cross that boundary, invade and swim there a summer before going to college.
I can hardly remember the cold deep water of Ulong Tubig during the mid-80s when it was our time to do the invasion. Using our bikes, my best friend and I had taken the long path and trails of vegetation to get there for the first time back in the summer of 1984. Yes, this will be another trip further down the memory lane.
What I vividly remember first was not the spring but the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen in my life (disclaimer: this was way way before I met my wife!). She was tall and tan with her long black as night tresses cascading down like waterfalls to her curvy and slender body.
She was leaning on a lucky tree while looking at us smiling as we sauntered toward her direction. I could hear my heart beating faster and saying repeatedly to myself that this spring was really enchanted after all. There she was, this beautiful and charming enchantress from Maryknoll College casting her spell already on us.
As you can imagine, there were many hair-raising moments and weird occurrences during those summer times, especially when the darkness started to set in. Remember the lucky coconut tree where I first saw the beautiful enchantress leaning on it…well it was also the spot where I had experienced one of the scariest moments of my life along with my younger cousin and a friend the following holy week when we decided to camp overnight on the eve of good Friday.
We had decided to setup the tent near a big but quite short coconut tree, totally unmindful (or just young and stupid) about the possibility of coconuts falling directly at us. We had pegged the back of the tent facing towards the tree and the opening facing the spring. It was now pitch black and all we could hear was the water trickling down the hill and the occasional chirps of the cicadas. The moon was bright in this summer time of the year.
Inside the tent was snug and crowded for three persons and since I was tall and thin and the two were short but stout, we came up with an idea that I will just lie diagonally in the middle and the two of them on each side. All of us were tired of swimming and the two dozed off immediately. I remembered what had transpired earlier in the day. The contests we had of who could bike further in the middle of the spring and diving using vines like Tarzan. And the pretty young women who laughed at our crazy activities.
I woke up from my deep slumber after feeling slaps several times.
“Whaat??!”
“Did you hear that??”
“Wha..”
“HEHEH HEHH HE HE HA”
“AARRGH!!” I froze up and had stopped breathing upon hearing that blood curdling sinister laugh.
“MHEHAHH HEH HE HE!”
“Oh my God! What was that?”
“HIHMEHE HME HE HEH!”
My younger cousin was already wide-eyed and shivering from fear; I could swear his hair was all standing up like in the cartoon movies.
Under the moonlight, there it was, this big creature with horns casting a silhouette on our tent. It was slowly rising from the water and now walking towards us.
“AARGH…it’s the spring devil!!!”
By fear or just by sheer instinct for survival, we tried to shove each other out towards the opening of the tent as offering or a sacrifice for him.
“Go to him, you are the eldest!!”
“Aarghhhhh!!!!
Do you think..I want to die..?!”
“HEHAH HEHAH HEH!”
“Please…please take him instead…he is the youngest and…. tender!”
I could already feel the coconut tree on my back as we all moved backward further away until the tent had stretched to its limit and eventually collapsed.
“Hey..a goat, it’s just a big goat..”
“Oh my! Son-ova!”
In a few minutes the tent was up again and we had resumed the sleeping position as before. I could feel my wet pants and was a bit uncomfortable…well I assumed that I am not the only one who involuntarily urinated after that scary episode.
“What was that….?”
“That was just a big goat! Go sleep now”
“No, What is that smell? You idiot!”
“Huh.. come on, scream like a little girl again!”
“Shit!”
“Well somebody did shit his pants!!”
“I’m getting out of this tent !!”
“Fine, just watch out for the cadavers emerging from the spring!
“Aarghhhhh!!!!”