When the Elephants Dance (42 page)

“There are candles twinkling on every gravestone, like fallen stars,” I told Addie. “Blankets are laid out on top of each mound, with food, and people sitting and chatting to one another.”

“And the women? What are they wearing?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yellow dresses, Maria Clara dresses, some with black lace on their heads, some white. Mostly everyone has a banana leaf for a hat, and they are wearing cowhide for shoes.”

“You beast.” Addie hit me playfully.

“They are not as pretty as my sister.” I rubbed her back. I did not have the heart to tell her the fine clothing everyone wore. The people of that town were very well-to-do. The three of us were used cigarette stubs in a box of fine cigars.

“Tell me the truth.” Addie pulled my arm. “Pidring,” she insisted.

“Nothing very special about them, Addie,” he answered. “What is lovely is the entryway, shall I tell you?” He threw his arm around her.

“Yes, yes.” She elbowed us playfully.

“There are two very big stone angels at the entrance. There are many families. The men are dressed in
barongs
. How can they stand the long sleeves in this infernal heat? Some are wearing Western hats with a wide band of ribbon and a single feather attached. Almost every marker is blanketed with food, as if in a picnic. People are strolling about, visiting with neighbors, talking about the dead.”

She frowned. “I am not deaf.”

“The stones are different sizes. Some are oblong, others are short and square. There are wreaths, sweetcakes on the blankets. Small glasses of wine are left out for the dead.”

“Do they not bother the spirits with such a display?” Addie asked as we walked down into the graveyard.

“The spirits know to stay away when there are too many people,”
unless it is their dwelling place or they are stuck and cursed
, I added sheepishly in my own mind.

“Do not encourage her, Ped. It will give her nightmares again,” Pidring said.

He was the only one in the village who did not believe any of my much talked of gifts. If it brings you an extra meal on the table, he would say with a shrug. Lost souls, he called the people who asked for my help. I could be ordinary with him, and I was thankful for it.

I looked around. It was difficult to relax. My skin was tingling and being pulled in every direction. There were spirits seated in between each family. They studied me as I walked by. A man floated beside his young widow. He tipped his hat as they passed. Others were not as nice. “Leave us. This is our home,” they hissed.

To the right a woman sat with a basket of sweet rolls that kept tipping over when there was no wind. She trembled as the spirit of her jealous sister continued to interrupt her prayers.

“Stop that,” I said below my breath. “Can you not see she is trying to apologize?” The specter crossed her arms and pouted at me.

Pidring tapped me on the shoulder and nodded to a group of young women sitting in front of the steps of a large mausoleum. I felt my legs grow hot. Their dresses fit their breasts to perfection. The shorter lengths exposed their tender ankles.

“How wonderfully indecent,” Pidring said, grinning.

I shook my head, embarrassed by his loudness.

“What, what is it?” Addie asked with a knowing smile.

“Pidring wishes to make fools of us.”

“It will be perfect, Ped,” Pidring insisted. “If we could get them to walk down the road …” He laughed and clapped his hands.

We had set up a prank the night before, as we did each year on All Souls’ Day. I had been hesitant to play one this year, because Addie had asked to come along. Sometimes our pranks got us into fistfights, sometimes not, but there was always a certain amount of running involved each time. The family he was pointing to were the Villanuevas, the wealthiest in San Isidro. The father owned many acres of land. He had four daughters and no sons. I glanced at the gravesite. There was no sign of the father, only three of the girls and the grandfather.

I made a face. “Not that family. Pick another, Pidring. Do you wish to see us thrown in jail? The father is great friends with the constabulary. Those girls are—” I turned and saw the fourth sister standing behind Pidring with her arms crossed.

“Socorra.” I nodded in greeting. She had a doll’s face. She was small; with high heels she barely reached Addie’s height. Her hair was pulled up into a simple knot, emphasizing her brown eyes. The hair on the corners of her brow
were baby fine. She brushed away a few loose tendrils with a gloved hand, then pulled off the gloves in irritation and smoothed back her hair.

“Finish your sentence. Those girls are what?” she demanded.

Socorra’s voice startled Addie, who squeezed my hand and began to shuffle her foot one on top of the other, back and forth. I was speechless. I was mesmerized by her first-class clothing, the richness of her blue traveling suit, the matching Western hat with a small veil and pin. I was a roach crawling near her fineness.

“That is a lovely fragrance you are wearing,” Addie murmured. I closed my eyes and inhaled. She was strawberries and almonds.

She ignored Addie’s compliment and looked us up and down with contempt. I am ashamed to say I was impressed by her airs. She fascinated me. She reeked of authority.

“Let me finish your sentence for you. Those girls are beautiful, above us, educated. Shall I continue?” Socorra asked, lifting her chin at me.

“Yes, all of the above, lovely lady.” I laughed nervously.

She rolled her eyes in disgust and walked past us.

I stood rooted to the spot. I studied her every movement, her back straight as a ballerina’s, the way she stopped and turned her head to survey the others.

“Who is that you were speaking to?” Socorra’s grandfather demanded. “Your father would be angry to see you speak with strangers. Our servants are better dressed than they.”

I heard Addie’s intake of breath. “Who is he speaking of? Does he mean us, Pedro?” she asked, her voice caught between anger and tears.

“That old swayback had better watch his mouth. It is a good thing he is an old man,” Pidring said.

I was too angry to move. I was going to speak to the man, and throw manners to the wayside, when to my surprise Socorra bristled at her grandfather’s orders.

“Those are friends of mine,
Lolo
. Why must you and Father constantly order me about?” She spun on her high heels and motioned to us with her hand. “Hey, come sit with us. What are you waiting for?”

Pidring and I looked behind us. We could not believe she was calling to us.

Addie tugged at my hand. “Pedro, I do not like these people. She is only trying to anger her grandfather. She may try to embarrass us.”

My eyes swallowed the lush blankets, the coconut drinks, slices of mango, guava, pandesal, and cheese. The sight of a plate of palabok made me wet my lips. I could almost taste the thick clear noodles with egg, green onions, and shredded orange-colored spices. Their clothes, the smell of their perfume, the
cream-colored gloves her sisters wore, held me spellbound. I pulled Addie forward, and Pidring followed.

The Villanuevas looked up at us, Socorra with one brow raised in amusement. She pulled out a long cigarette stem, placed a cigarette at its end, and lighted it with the snap of a slim gold lighter. “Well? Sit,” she ordered impatiently.

I positioned myself across from her, then helped Addie to a seated position. There was no place for Pidring, except a small patch of blanket next to the old man. Pidring expected the grandfather to make room, but the man simply glared at him.

“This is my sister, Addie,” I announced.

“Hello,” Addie mumbled, holding out her hand. For a long moment no one moved, then Socorra took the hand and shook it limply.

“I thought you knew these people, ha?” the grandfather grumbled.

“There is plenty of room here on my side, ladies,” I said to the sisters, patting an empty space to be courteous.

They laughed to one another and shook their heads.

Socorra studied me. “What are you doing here?”

“Ay, tamà na ha. Ikáw ang nag imbita, imbita,”
the grandfather said with disgust. Oh, stop it. You are the one who invited them.

“You should just say yes now,
Lolo
.” Socorra smiled. “Ask Papa to buy me the car and I will tell these people to go. I always win in the end.”

“Okay, darling, you win.” The grandfather chuckled. “Now tell these people to go. I am sure they have other friends to visit.”

I felt my heart drop. Pidring got up and dusted his pants. He reached out a hand to Addie.

“Yes, you are dismissed,” Socorra said sweetly, and her sisters patted her as though it were such a good joke.

“Thank you, folks,” I said, getting up, which only caused them to laugh more.

“See,
kuya,”
Addie whispered, grabbing my hand, “I told you what kind of people they are.”

My eyes were locked on Socorra. I coveted her wealth, the power she exuded. I wanted that for myself. I saw how the other families looked their way, how the other girls mimicked Socorra and her sisters. I would never stand a chance with a girl like her. Socorra continued to smoke her cigarette, already dismissing us from her thoughts. The image of that fine cigarette burned in my chest as we walked away.

“You know the Villanuevas?” a young woman with braided hair asked from a nearby headstone.

“They are good friends of ours.” Pidring puffed up his chest.

She gave a crooked smile as she looked over toward the Villanueva blankets, particularly at Socorra. “That family is like hollow fruit. Very sweet looking on the outside, but on the inside, the ants and worms have eaten through the good portion. There is much hate and jealousy among the sisters.”

I looked to check the accuracy of her statement, and to my surprise, the sisters were each facing in a different direction.

“That one in particular”—the girl gestured with her chin to Socorra—“is the worst.”

“I did not like them,” Addie announced, feeling more comfortable with our new friends.

A
PALE MOON
was rising and gray clouds floated thinly before it. The white trumpet lilies had begun to close, but their fragrance drifted all around us.

“It is past twilight time,” Pidring announced. “We should be home. You know what the old people say.”

It was his tone that caught everyone’s attention. Several people had come to share our blanket space, including a young man with a cane and a bad temper who knew the answer to everything.

“That is foolish talk,” the bad-tempered Augustino snorted.

Pidring pursed his lips. “Do you know why the
asuwángs
favor this area and not the city?”

“Because witches like to eat beautiful young women?” Augustino smirked, leaning on his cane. “So that when you tell the story the women will grab for your hand?”

“Because of the lack of telephone lines.” Pidring clenched his teeth and pointed out toward the space between the trees. “The witches can fly at night and flap their wings unhindered.” He shrugged. “But if you do not believe, what is the use in continuing this?”

I took Addie’s hand. “We must go. I think this way is the safest.” I pointed to a route Pidring and I had prepared the prior day. “Thank you, everyone, for the company.”

“Wait!” the girls shouted in unison. “We shall walk out with you. Let us finish packing our things.”

We waited beside them, and I began to speak to Pidring in a loud manner.

“We will be fine. There is no need for concern. The
asuwángs
hunt for the pregnant women first, you know. They fly over the houses very late at night. If you are awake, you can hear them flap their wings. They land on the houses and dig for a crack in the ceilings. If there are none, they make a hole with their long fingernails right above the pregnant woman’s bed. Then slowly they trickle a string of saliva down to the woman’s mouth, and from then on, the woman becomes paralyzed and the baby is eaten in that way.”

“What a horrid way to die,” one of the girls exclaimed, snapping the blankets in the air to throw off the crumbs.

“What about when the
asuwángs
crawl beneath the houses?” Pidring shook his head.

“What happens then?” Augustino taunted.

“Oh, it is horrible,” I said. “When the roofs of the houses are guarded with holy objects such as crucifixes and statues of saints blessed in holy water, then the
asuwángs
search for a way to get below the house. And if your house is raised on stilts, well then, all the easier.”

“What do you mean?” asked the girl with braids.

“Well, have you ever heard the wild boars that root beneath the houses sometimes? Those are not wild boars. They are vampire-witches in their animal form. They root below the houses looking for a hole to pull the pregnant mother through.”

The women screamed and giggled in fear. We now had a tight circle, and Pidring and I were in heaven.

“How do you kill such a thing?” the girl whispered.

“That is easy,” Augustino interrupted before Pidring could continue. Really, the urge to box his ear and steal his cane was incredible. Pidring and I waited for his explanation.

Augustino’s expression was smug. “All that is needed is garlic and holy water.”

“And?” Pidring asked.

“One need only throw either at the creatures,” Augustino finished, looking off to the dark. A cold wind was threading its way through the warmth, and we pulled our coats closer to our bodies.

Pidring choked, “That is the most ridiculous explanation I have ever heard.”

I laughed. “Be kind, Pidring. He has not seen the things we have.”

“Well, genius, for that is your name, is it not?” Pidring asked Augustino. “Are you ready to hear how to truly kill these creatures?”

Augustino shrugged. “What is your explanation?”

Addie surprised us by speaking. Her voice was soft, and it pierced the darkness with the strangest pitch. I shivered as I held her hand. “These
asuwángs
are normal humans by day. They have the power to walk among us, and to mark who will be their victims after twilight time. The time when the moon begins to rise and the goodness of the sun begins to fade.