Broomsticks

BROOMSTICKS

by Rhea Vi D. Agot

It was a very dark, moonless night. The touch of the cold, whistling wind that blew gently on Dolor’s skin gave her goosebumps. The big trees on each side of the road looked horrifying or so was she imagining creepy things. She was all alone on the road heading home, riding a horse that helped her carry the load of firewood that she gathered from the forest for the week. Good that she was able to bring with her the solar flashlight that she found thrown in one of the garbage bag at the market. Although it was quite old and cracked on the side near the mirror, it was still functioning. At least the little light it provided led her towards home. She was not able to notice the time since she did not have a watch. The night just came abruptly. Stories has been told that in this part of the forest there appeared a lady in a long white dress stained with blood, with face covered with her long messy white hair, floating in the wind with arms wide open, blocking the passers-by.

She whipped her horse mercilessly just to speed up. It was the first time she was able to go home so late. There! Finally! She saw someone walking towards the baranggay with a lighted torch made up of bamboo. Her fears went out suddenly. She was not alone anymore. Looking from behind, the girl was petite with a shoulder length, kinky-hair. She was dragging a goat. It escaped maybe that was why she also came back home late. When the girl  heard the horse’s footsteps, she looked back. She was relieved to recognize someone she knew in 2nd grade, her classmate, Thelma. It has been three years since she last saw her. Thelma raised up her torch to clearly see who was the rider.

“Ahh!!!” Screamed the girl and run off fast leaving her goat behind.

Dolor felt so sad, she was about to cry. Was she really that horrible to look at? Though it was not the first time she encountered instances like that, but still, she cannot get used to it. She composed herself. Smiled faintly. Continued on her journey home.

Her home was three kilometers from the nearest baranggay. They do not have neighbors. They lived in a shack that she and her mother managed to build two years ago after they left their old place when the neighbors set it on fire, killing her old, sick father. She saw how their house turned into ashes. She was at a far distance at that time together with her mother.  They came from gathering fire-woods at the foot of the mountain not so far from their place. On their way home they passed-by a guava tree and the fruits were tempting. Good for them because they were so hungry. Her father loved guava too and so she got a bunch of it for him. After she dropped the bunch of guava in which her mother caught using her wide skirt, she fell on the ground too. She got injured. Their pace going home was so slow because her left ankle was swollen and she has a hard time walking. It was her mother who carried the fire-woods. They saw it all. How the people shouted for them to get out of their house . They were accusing her parents of something they did not do.  At the age of nine, she knew how worst their situation was.

Two years had passed. She and her mother now were living in peace. At last, she can now see their home. A light from a lamp fueled by gas flickered inside. They had no electricity. They were only using a kerosene lamp. Her mother must be worried.

“Nay, I’m home!” She called from the outside. She jumped off  her horse and tied it on the big mango tree near their house.

“Inday, where have you been?” Her mother worriedly said while helping her with the fire-woods.

She explained what happened while setting their dinner on the floor. They do not have a table. Where they ate was where they slept. Her mother was able to cook her favorite dish - adobong kangkong.

“Go to the village tomorrow and sell some of the broomsticks that I made. I was able to finish six today. Then buy a kilo of salt and some spices” Said her mother while chewing her food slowly for she only got few teeth left.

“Nay, we should increase it to twenty pesos. You can never buy broomsticks at five pesos nowadays. I saw it at the market. They were selling it at twenty five pesos.” She replied even her mouth was still quite full.

“Really?  Okay, try selling it with that price.” Said her mother. It was followed by a deafening silence. No one talked. They just enjoyed eating their food. The chewing was the only sound that can be heard that time. Then Dolor remembered to ask something.

“Nay, am I really that ugly?”

“Who said you are ugly, anak? Replied her mother. “You are the most beautiful girl in my eyes.”

Her mother only said that to boost her self-esteem, she thought. After the dinner, when her mother was already asleep, she grabbed her sling bag made of recycled shampoo sachets and took out the pink little mirror she bought at five pesos in the market last month. She drawn herself nearer to the lamp beside her and looked at her face closely. She had a black, shoulder length, wavy hair that no matter how she tried combing, still it was messy-looking. Her ears were quite big. According to her mother, big ears lived longer. Well, that was comforting. What about her eyes? The other was a little bigger. On top of it were two very thick eyebrows. Her nose were flat. Her lips were protruding because of her unaligned teeth.

“Why I am not like the others?” She said to herself whispering. “Hmmp! Mother said I am beautiful and mothers never tell a lie. I better go to sleep.” Placing her mirror under her hard pillow then blowing off the lamp.

Dolor woke up early the next day. She prepared their breakfast and headed towards the baranggay bringing broomsticks for sale. She went on foot since the last time she went there, she had a hard  time looking for her horse for some kids made fun of loosing it from its tie. The baranggay was a two-hour walk from their home.

Three kids were  playing on the sidewalk. As long as they were able to see her coming down from the hill, they playfully shouted.

“Here comes the ugly duckling! Here comes the ugly duckling!” Said the thin, sickly looking boy.

“The witch from the mountain is here!” Said the fat one laughing while the other one picked a small stone and threw at her. Then they ran away as fast as they could.

“Ouch!” screamed Dolor as a stone hit her head. Blood. There was blood. Just a little. It was always like this whenever she went down that place. She was always bullied. It seemed like a never ending struggle whenever she went there, unless, her appearance would change maybe.

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