SHE USED TO BE MINE

A novel by Corey San Jose

"She's imperfect, but she tries
She is good, but she lies
She is hard on herself
She is broken and won't ask for help
She is messy, but she's kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine."

PREFACE

I write my Nanay's story, or endeavor to. As much as I can recall, details of her life, some parts I've witnessed, most, I have not... but heard from accounts, from friends, from foes, from people whose lives she had touched.

It would be painstaking work and I doubt I would get to finish it, but at least in the end, I can tell myself, but more importantly, my mother- when we're finally reunited and all the pain and sorrow is lifted from my heart- that I tried.

Misery loves company. And she has set her sights on me. I seldom sleep at night nowadays, for I am tormented by memories. Horrid, vivid, recent memories of my Nanay's struggle. I bury my face in my pillow to stifle the sound of my weeping. I cry for hours on end, until my vocal chords give out and I'm left with a hoarse voice. I call out her name in the dark, pleading that she show herself to me, or grant me relief by snuffing out my breath and taking me to where she is. I also pray for madness to befall me, to no god in particular, if that's what it took for me to have a glimpse of my mother's beautiful face once again.

During the day, I struggle to stay awake. I would try to open my eyes and wonder if my mother has come back to me. "Come back to me, come back to me, come back to me, come back...". I walk the streets in a dull stupor, barely seeing anything, or anyone around me. I go to work and I talk to people, wearing an exhausting smile, feigning interest to what they are saying, all the while wishing for the day to end already, so that I may go back to my mistress, Misery and her nights filled with sufferings.

I've seen my fate reflected in a shiny, magical bullet. I shall die the moment that I finish telling this story.  It seems I have but a couple of rainy seasons left to enjoy, or endure. But no more spring, no more summer, nor fall. I think about my dreams and aspirations- they hold no value to me anymore, for all I want now, is to hold my mother in my arms once again. If I could, I know I would never let go. I yearn to see her, hear her, smell her beautiful scent- the one that filled me with happiness when I was just a boy and I'd run to her after I wake up in the morning.

I live by the grace of my Nanay's goodwill. In the last eight years, she spent her time introducing me to her friends. I have a borderline personality disorder called "The Chameleon Effect" and I never had any real friends of my own, even as a child. Now, because of my mother's efforts, most of her friends have become mine. And moreover, they treat me with love and respect, just as they did Nanay. They bring me business because they loved my mother, and they love her still, and think it's their duty to take care of their friend's son. I am the fortunate but undeserving  beneficiary of a gracious woman's life's work.

I still prepare Nanay's meals everyday, remembering to serve her favorite dishes as best I could. I talk to her, incessantly, wherever I may be. And sometimes, if I'm lucky, she would talk back to me, in a dream- which were few and far in between. I refuse to tear down her room and keep her belongings the way she left them. I turn on the TV and put on her favorite soaps, hoping she can see, begging she can hear, would give my life for her to come back. I challenge reality and mock sanity, my will shall prevail. My love for my Nanay shall bridge her realm and mine. Come back to me, come back to me, come back...

CHAPTER 1

THE BABY THAT WOULDN'T CRY

It was dawn, it was almost morning really. Yet the sun refused to shine, as if it was waiting for some kind of queue, a special event? Only a handful of stars and a barely visible moon illuminated the small house on the hill.

Inside the small, wooden structure, four people- all women, sat on the wooden floor, all quiet except for the occasional whimper from one of them. A makeshift gas lamp splashed their shadows on the wall like some grotesque puppet show.

"Konti na lang," the old woman said, after awhile. "Nakikita ko na ang ulo." She beckoned the other woman to her right, with an expression of considerable worry, to pass her the small, wooden basin filled with warm water. She then soaked a small, white rag in the water, wrung  and placed it on the forehead of the young woman who was spread in front of her.

The young woman's name was Naty, her weight borne by her Aunt behind her, she was having a baby.

And for someone who has been in labor for more than six hours, Naty was surprisingly calm, she bit her lips to stifle her cries and would only shut her eyes whenever the pain seemed unbearable. Perhaps the fact that this would be the fourth time she was giving birth could explain this noteworthy demeanor.

To Naty's left, her younger sister, Ely- hair in pickaninny braids and dressed in oversized men's clothing- watched the goings on intently, her heart pounding like a drum, she had started to worry hours ago, why the birth was taking this long. "Aling Gorang..." Ely pleaded to the old woman performing the delivery.

"Heh!"  Aling Gorang shouted, "wag mo kong guluhin, dyaske ka." She then held both of Naty's knees and pushed apart her legs even wider. "Naty, pag sabi ko, umire ka, huhugutin ko ang bata."

To call Aling Gorang an "old lady", is an understatement, for in the cold light of day, she could be mistaken for a decrepit, mummified corpse. Ely chucked at the thought and Aling Gorang shot her a menacing look.

Old lady Gorang was notorious in the entire village, not only does everyone thought she was a witch, worse, people believed she ate children.

Aling Gorang proceeded to hold Naty's baby's head with both hands, the child's forehead and eyebrows were partially visible by then. "Ire..." the old woman ordered, "Ire!"

Naty, screamed. She willed her lower body to push the child inside her downwards and suddenly, she was crowning.

Aling Gorang, after seeing the baby's head suddenly protrude from Naty's center, wasted no time and slid her left hand besides the woman's opening and reached for the child's small shoulder, while gently holding the head with her right. She guided the movement westward and finally, successfully pulled out the left arm.

Ely gave out a sigh of relief, the baby- her niece, was finally coming out of her sister's womb. Thank God for that. Despite her young age, Ely herself has given birth to two healthy babies. And each time nowhere near as arduous as this.

Finally, the baby was born.

"Salamat sa Diyos," Naty and Ely's aunt Maria said.

"Babae," Aling Gorang said in a soft voice, almost whispering. "Babae ang anak mo Natividad."

Naty's newborn daughter was tiny, with delicate and dainty features- small eyes, small nose, small lips, small hands, small feet, everything about her was miniscule. She had thick black hair, which complimented her fair complexion. But the word "fair" was an understatement, for the baby was white as snow.

At the moment, the infant seemed to be sleeping, her eyes were half- closed. Aling Gorang wrapped her with a small, sheer blanket and moved closer to the woman who just gave birth.

"Kunin mo sya," the old woman offered the baby to Naty, but Naty has fallen asleep, snoring lightly.

Aunt Maria touched Naty's cheek and muttered something to her ear, but she remained oblivious.

"Akin na po Nanang," Ely finally said, her arms open to receive the newborn. She has fallen in love the moment she saw the baby, she couldn't take her eyes off that beautiful, angelic face.

Aling Gorang turned to give Ely the baby but stopped, her face appeared puzzled.

"Hindi umiiyak ang bata."

"Po?"- Ely.

"Susmaryosep, aba oo nga,"- Aunt Maria.

Aling Gorang  gently placed the baby on her lap and spanked her bottom two times. The infant opened her eyes.

They all burst into laughter, then silence- the baby, it seemed, refused to cry.

The old "witch" held the baby's feet up and smacked her fanny once again, this time with a little more drive. Naty's daughter remained silent. She was already wide awake and surveying her environment. At one time, she locked gaze with her Aunt Ely and Ely could swear that her young niece smiled.

"Dyaskeng batang ito, pipe pa ata," Aling Gorang exclaimed.

"Wag naman po kayong magsalita ng ganyan Aling Gorang," Aunt Maria replied. "siguro nakaiyak na sya kanina sa loob."

"Baliw!"- Aling Gorang. "Walang sanggol na umiiyak sa loob ng sinapupunan."

Ely interjected "Pano nyo po alam, nakapasok na po ba kayo doon habang nagpapaanak?"

That comment made Aunt Maria laugh, but Aling Gorang was not impressed. Without so much as a warning, she lifted the baby up by her two feet and gave her behind, two big wallops. "Tignan ko lang kung di ka pa umiyak ngayun."

But the baby stubbornly remained stoic. Instead of crying, she began to struggle from the old hag's grip. Suddenly, one of her legs was free and she let out a great, big, back kick.

The kick connected on Aling Gorang's already crooked nose and the sound of it breaking was like dry twigs popping on kindling.

The old woman let out a loud, wounded scream, akin to bullfrogs mating. "YAAAAOOWWWW!" She released the baby's leg from her hold and grabbed hold of her broken nose.

Aunt Maria and Ely were both stunned, their minds reeling madly with what's about to happen. The two women watched helplessly as the newborn fell to the floor.

Suddenly, Ely- petite Ely in pickaninny braids- leaped from her seat like a Gazelle. She dropped on the floor just in the nick of time and caught hold of the baby before it was too late. She sat up and held her niece to her bosom.

Aling Gorang was still screaming in agony as she struggled to leave the house, Aunt Mary trying to console her.

"May sa demonyo ang sanggol na yan," she cried out. "Aalis na ko! WAAARRKKK! Ayoko pang mamatay!"

"Maawa naman po kayo sa amin, aling Gorang," Aunt Mary pleaded, kissing the "witch's" hand.

Aling Gorang pushed her away. The old woman got out of the house, then, silence.

Amidst the cacophony, Naty's baby remained quiet. Aunt Mary found her locked in a staring competition with Ely.

"Kamusta sya?" Aunt Mary inquired.

"Tignan mo po Tiang," Ely replied and held the baby's face to the light. Aunt Mary looked.

The baby was wide awake. And she was giggling. Her tiny fingers were holding that of Ely's and she was playing.

"Salamat po Panginoong Diyos, sa iyong awa, " Aunt Mary exclaimed.

"Ely?" A shaky, hoarse voice. The baby's mother was awake, unaware of the commotion that just happened.

"Ate!" Ely cried out in surprise. She promptly brought the baby to her sister's arms.

Aunt Mary approached Naty and kissed her forehead. She sat on the floor near her two nieces and her new granddaughter. They sat there in silence for awhile, exhausted from the ordeal they just went through.

"Tiang," Ely finally said.

"Ely?"

"Bakit po kaya sa tingin nyo, ayaw umiyak ni Baby?"

Aunt Mary considered Ely's question before answering. "Hindi ko alam. Di kaya may diprensya sya gaya ng sabi ni Aling Gorang?"

"Sa tingin ko po mali po kayo Tiang," Ely said. "Sa tingin ko po isang espesyal na katangin yan ng pamangkin ko... na hindi sya kayang paiyakin ninuman, nang ganun kadali. Sa tingin ko Tiang, may angkin siyang pambihirang..."

"Tapang," Naty finished Ely's statement. "Magiging matapang ang anak ko pag laki nya... at hindi sya magpapaapi sa kahit na sino."

Ely smiled, "Ano ipapangalan natin sa kanya, ate?"

"Hmmm... me naiisip ka ba na magandang pangalan Ely?"- Naty.

"Pwede po kaya yung dinasal mo kanina Tiang?" Ely turned her attention to her Aunt.

"Ha? Alin, yun bang salamat Diyos ko, sa iyong awa?"

"Opo. Yun nga! Awa... Diba't "Mercy" po iyon sa wikang Ingles?" Ely continued.

It was Naty who responded. "Tama. Mercy nga ang awa. Magandang pangalan yan Ely ah,"

"Oo ate," Ely responded in excitement. "Napaka gandang pangalan para sa pamangkin ko, Mercy. Tapang at awa, mga katangiang dadalhin nya sa kanyang pag laki."

Ely reached to hug her older sister. Naty hugged her back. Before long, their Aunt Mary joined their circle.

Outside, the sun has finally decided to shine.