22 - no place like home

The passenger hold inside the BRP Batangas was spacious yet cramped. It extended forty meters from the forward cabin to the stern and measured eleven meters across the beam. Although some people might consider forty meters a very short distance, Mariposa Rana would be the first to disagree.

“Would you like to borrow my blankets?” she asked the old man.

“You don’t need them?”

“Not right now, I’m headed to the comfort room.”

The man nodded as Mariposa carefully draped the blankets over the old man’s legs and headed for the women’s comfort room, located at the ship’s stern.

“Excuse me.”, “Pardon me.”, “I’m sorry,” she said as she made the treacherous twenty-minute journey through a maze of bodies and blankets. Even balanced on the tips of her toes, Mariposa managed to step on people on her way through the passenger hold. One girl snarled angrily as Mariposa’s feet snagged a shock of stray hair.

“Watch it!” she spat.

“I’m so very sorry.”

“It’s okay, just be more careful.”

Mariposa had been careful, but every response was the same – sudden anger followed by quaint compassion, as if the two distinct emotions were actually one and the same.

With all that commotion, Mariposa was relieved when she arrived at the back of the boat. Unfortunately, there was a line of five other girls waiting for the women’s comfort room. Meanwhile, the men’s comfort room stood empty.

In another place, it would’ve been possible for a woman to enter the men’s room. However, these Comfort Rooms were shipboard, which meant they would only be cleaned once each day. With hundreds of people using each toilet, the floor of the comfort rooms was damp and sticky and the women’s room was much cleaner than the men’s room. Of course, every girl opted to wait for the women’s room. Although Mariposa had an urgent need, she perched herself on the rail at the back of the line and crossed her legs.

Mariposa’s eyes traveled up and down the girl beside her. The girl was maybe as young as four years old.

“How old are you?” asked Mariposa.

“Me?” asked the girl.

Mariposa nodded.

“I’m five. How old are you?”

“I’m almost ten. Don’t you have any family here?”

“Sure, my mother and father are upstairs on the deck.”

“Oh.”

Mariposa peered over her shoulder to the stairway behind her. She squinted as a narrow shaft of sunlight shone in her eyes.

“Doesn’t it scare you to be down here alone?”

“Not really,” said the girl.

“You must be very brave.”

“I guess so.”

The girls waited quietly until it was their turn to use the Comfort Room. As the little girl emerged, Mariposa rose to her feet.

“I’ll see you later,” said Mariposa.

“Good-bye,” replied the girl.

It echoed vacantly in Mariposa’s ears as she took her turn in the comfort room and as she headed back to her seat next to the old man. She scanned the people in the passenger hold as she searched for the little girl. Mariposa figured she was probably on the deck above.

“You’ve been gone for quite a long while,” he said.

“There was a long wait, but there’s no line for the men’s room.”

“That’s unfortunate because I have no need to visit the Comfort Room.”

“That’s okay because it’s sort of gross in there.”

“I suppose it is,” chuckled the old man, “do you want your blankets back?”

“Not if you need them.”

“Not really.”

He pushed the blankets off to the side and sat with Mariposa.

“I’m so bored,” said Mariposa.

“Let me see if I can find something for us to do.”

The old man rubbed his chin as he glanced around the passenger hold. Then, he dug into his pocket and produced a collection of things, including a piece of half-whittled wood, some pesos, and a pocketknife. He unfolded the knife and began to whittle the piece of wood.

“What are you making?”

“I’m not sure, what would you like?”

Mariposa took the tiny piece of wood and twirled it in her fingers, investigating it from every angle.”

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“It could be a spaceship,” he said.

Mariposa shook her head.

“It could be a walking cane for a miniature man.”

“Noooo,” replied Mariposa.

“Then what?”

She held it just in front of her eyes and stared deeply. She mimicked a fish swimming through the air.

“How about a dolphin?”

“Yes, yes, it could be a dolphin.”

The old man took the piece of wood and carved out the Y-shaped tail fin. Then, he added a dorsal fin and two flippers. With a few more flicks of the blade, two tiny eyes appeared at the front, followed by a thin line of a dolphin smile across the nose. He closed the pocketknife and returned it to his pocket. Then, he spit into his shirttail and polished the tiny piece of wood until it was shiny and smooth.

“How’s that for a dolphin?”

Mariposa’s arms extended forward as she held the dolphin aloft for all to see.

“It’s simply fantastic!”

“Would you like it?”

Mariposa nodded.

”When I get home, I’ll put it on the nightstand beside my bed.”

The old man nodded to Mariposa as she swam the dolphin through the air, sending it through a series of loops and twirls.

As Mariposa passed her time aboard the BRP Batangas, her games of pretend helped keep her mind off her troubles. Meanwhile, Jonny and the six hangers-on from the rescue raft had returned to Our Lady Lupita, where the world around them was deathly silent.

The solitude was a stark contrast to the time before the tsunami. Jeepneys and tour busses no longer rumbled down the national road. The constant hum of power lines no longer filled the silence. Even the yaps of barrio dogs had been replaced by the faint gurgle of tidewater flowing just a short distance away.

These were the sounds that inhabited their lives before the tsunami. It had all been replaced with desolate silence.

Herve ran through the playground to the classroom and Rosie was close behind.

“Oh, it’s terrible!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” asked Rosie.

“Everything’s ruined!”

Rosie placed her hands on Herve’s shoulders as she stood behind him at the entrance. Globs of mud, brown and black, coated the classroom as thickly as a chocolate layer cake. Skeletons of desks and chairs and books belied the carnage.

“Maybe we can fix it,” said Rosie. Herve picked up a book. Sloppy chunks of mud dripped from it and plopped on the floor.

“Anak ng manok!” blurted Mr. G. – “son of a chicken!”

“It’s not so bad,” comforted Rosie.

“Not so bad you say. This is as bad as it gets.”

“First off,” she said, “we are alive. Secondly, If we get some rags, I’m sure we can clean most of it.”

Mr. G. carefully trudged through the mud, wet bandage and all. He opened a cabinet. It, too, was coated with mud.

“It’s all ruined. Even if we save some of these desks and chairs, they’ll all have to be thrown away eventually.”

“What do we do?”

“We start over from scratch.”

Rosie sighed.

“That’s just how it is.”

He unscrewed the water spigot. It spat out dirty chunks of mud before running clear. He turned it off and attached a garden hose to the nozzle.

“We’ll rinse the excess mud off all the books and throw them into this trashcan. After we do that, we’ll move all the furniture out to the basketball court and wash the mud and dirt out of the classroom.”

“Mr. G,” said Brian, “Should I fetch some garden tools from the house?”

“That’s a good idea. Take someone with you.”

“Who wants to go?”

Every child raised a hand. Brian groaned softly.

“Alright, I’ll take Rosie and Joy. The rest can stay and help Mr. G.”

A collective groan came from the other children.

“It’ll be alright,” said Brian, “I’m sure Mr. G. needs your help, too.”

As Brian and the girls headed up Academy Road, the remainder stayed behind with Mr. G. Not a single soul thought about his or her family.  Instead, their minds were occupied with cleaning up the Academy.

“We’ll take one of the ox-carts,” said Brian.

“Can I have a ride?” asked Joy.

“It wouldn’t be fair to the others,” said Rosie, “plus, we might need your help pulling it uphill.”

Joy heaved a sigh as she soldiered on with her two teachers. Brian, however, did all the heavy work as he lugged the ox-cart through the mud to Mr. G.s house and parked it at the edge of the patio.

“Where are all the garden tools?” he asked as he poked his head into the map room.

“Jonny stored them in the kitchen just after the sea quake.”

Brian went upstairs and gathered an armload of garden tools. As he did, Rosie stood in her familiar old spot in the middle of the map room and twisted her head this way and that, taking a casual inventory of the things within the room. Meanwhile, Joy stood beside the old brown couch and placed both hands on the center of a cushion and pressed down firmly. As she pressed down, a pool of water formed around her wrists. Clear water erupted from the cushions and pooled around her wrists. She lat go and the cushions sucked up every ounce.

“I think we’ll have to throw away lots of things here, too.”

 “Are we ready to go?” asked Brian.

Rosie nodded.

“Let’s hurry back to the Academy. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

By the time the threesome returned to the Academy, more familiar faces from Baluntay had gathered. Most had wandered up and down Academy Road, searching for someone or something to hang onto. The sound of children’s voices undoubtedly pulled them together.

“Hallo everybody!” called Rosie.

“Hey Rosie!” they greeted her.

Although everyone was painted in mud, they were cheerful. Brian and Joy handed out shovels, spades, and rakes. Rosie counted through all the new faces. Juvie Velasco’s mother and Aunt Mariella were there. So, too, were Agnes and Lily, the youngest of the Serencios. Neighbors who had no real stake in the Academy were there, too, pitching in to help.

Jonny leaned on his shovel for a moment as he stopped to catch his breath.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Rosie.

“Oh, I’m not thinking about anything in particular. I’m just listening to the grinding of shovels against the hard concrete. Maybe the Academy won’t be as good as new, but each time I hear this beautiful noise, I know we are one step closer to re-opening.”

Rosie smiled as she headed out into the muck. After a few moments, Jonny joined her and the two worked together to clean up the Academy, scoop-by-scoop. In fact, the whole group worked feverishly throughout the afternoon. Soon, a large patch of bare floor glistened with water.

“It sure is a beautiful sight,” said Rosie.

“Sure is,” said Jonny, “but we can’t stop now.”

Jonny drove the shovel along the concrete, peeling layers of mud off the floor. He continued until the shovel snagged a crack. The blade popped upwards and   bumped his shin.

“Owie, ow, ouch! Anak ng manok!”

A little red dot, no larger than a coin,, formed in the center of the bandage. It grew slightly, and then stopped.

“We’ve got to get you to a hospital,” ordered Rosie.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” insisted Mrs. Velasco, “you’re going to a hospital this instant.”

“What about Our Lady Lupita?”

“Don’t you worry about that, Mr. G! We’ve got you covered!”

That was the tiny-but-brilliant voice of little Herve Serencio. Like the adults, he wielded a spade deftly. Mr. G. patted him gently on the shoulder.

“Alright, Captain Herve, you take care of the troops while I’m gone, okay?”

“Yes, sir, but how will you get to the hospital?”

“Brian can you fetch us some transport?”

“Right away, Mr. G.”

While Brian jogged up Academy Road, Rosie found a reasonably clean chair and dried it as best she could. She placed it at Mr. G.’s side.

“Have a seat while you wait.”

The hardwood chair was damp and cold. Mr. G. sat down anyway, but he carefully propped one hip on the corner to keep as dry as possible.

The few children who were there had worked hard all day. Desks had been rinsed clean and stacked neatly in the basketball court Other than the last bit of mud to be removed, there was little left to do.

“Rosie, can you check the plastic totes in the storage locker? I want to see if we can salvage anything.”

As Rosie opened the storage locker, water poured off the shelves. One-by-one, Rosie opened the totes, only to find messes inside each one. Watercolors bled from their containers and all the chalk had melted completely, forming a pasty, but colorful mess.

“Ugh! We’ll have to throw this away, too.”

Mr. G. simply nodded as Rosie carried the totes out to the basketball court.

Jonny shook his head in frustration. It wasn’t even the books or the papers or the long list of supplies that needed to be replaced. As Jonny thought about his Academy, he worried more about Baluntay itself. The village was all but gone. Even if some of the families stayed, most would move far away, forcing the memories of lost friends and family out of their minds.

A singular sound buzzed in the distance, growing ever louder as it approached. A tricycle bounced through mud puddles as it zigzagged down Academy Road. Brian was there, riding in the sidecar.

“Here you go!” he said proudly.

“It looks like a rough ride.”

“Maybe it’s a little bumpy, but it’s all we got.”

Mr. G. nodded as he motioned to Rosie.

“I would like you to come with me to the hospital. Brian can stay here with the kids.”

Rosie squeezed into the sidecar with Jonny and rode the whole way with her hips pinched between Jonny and the metal door. When the tricycle finally arrived at the hospital, Rosie quickly jumped out and rubbed her hip.

“Are you okay?” she asked Jonny.

“It wasn’t so bad and it could always be worse.”

Rosie dropped her hand from her hip and led Jonny by the hand into the hospital. The waiting area was filled to capacity, so Jonny promptly took a seat. As Rosie went to the admissions desk, a clerk approached.

“How may I help you?”

“It’s not for me; it’s my boss. He’s over there with a scar on his shin. It might be infected.”

“Let’s take a look.”

  The clerk gently pressed her fingers against the wound. Jonny winced.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Fill out this paperwork and I’ll get you some penicillin. We’ll have a nurse apply a new bandage in a little while.”

“How long will that be?”

“I’m not sure…we’re very busy today and short-staffed.”

“Can you give me an estimate?” insisted Rosie.

“No, not really,” shrugged the clerk, “we’ll be with him as soon as possible.”

Rosie sat next to Jonny and they waited for the remainder of the afternoon. It wasn’t until early evening when Jonny’s name was called and he was shown to a room. Still, he waited there with Rosie for another hour.

“Are you hungry?” asked Rosie.

“I could eat....”

“Let me see what I can find.”

Rosie started with a trip downstairs to the vending area, but the machines were empty, so she headed outside to the street vendors. There were several things to choose from, but all the lines were long. Rosie chose the shortest one.

By the time she got the food and returned, Jonny was waiting for her in the reception area.

“You’re finished?”

“Good as new. What did you get?”

“Tamales and fruit drinks.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

 Rosie and Jonny went outside and parked themselves on a bench near the entrance. The smell of grilled foods mingled in the air as Rosie and Jonny dined under the streetlights. As Rosie sipped her drink, she noticed a man using a cell phone while he waited in line.

“I should find a way to contact my folks back in Oklahoma.”

Jonny nodded, “It’s been three days now; they’re probably worried sick.”

“Where do you think I can find a phone?”

“We’ll look around...”

There were plenty of fruit stalls alongside the National Road. However, finding someone who sold cell phones was no minor odyssey. They finally flagged down a tricycle and asked the driver for some assistance.

“I know somebody, but her store is up in Gensan.”

“We’ll take it!” exclaimed Rosie.

She pinched in beside Jonny and quickly they buzzed up the National Road to central Gensan. Unlike the streets of Sarangani, General Santos City was largely unaffected by the floods. There was a large choice of phone vendors. The driver continued past most of them and stopped at a market.

“She’s in here,” said the driver as he ran up the steps and led Rosie into a small perfume store.

“Will you wait for me?”

“Of course I will wait, ma’am. Take your time.”

Rosie was a quick and easy customer, however. All she needed was a phone to call home. She purchased the cheapest one she could find and paid for 1000 pesos worth of load. She thanked the clerk and returned to the tricycle. Quickly, they were on their way back to Our Lady Lupita.

“You get everything all right?”

Rosie nodded as she fidgeted in her seat. The long ride was made more tolerable by the fact that Rosie would soon be calling her parents. She was glad everything took so long. It was nearing midnight in Sarangani, which meant it would be just before noon back in Oklahoma.

“Hello?”

“Daddy?’

“Rosie? Rosie!” Mr. Sasfy covered the phone as he let out a shout, “Honey, it’s Rosie! She’s safe and sound!”

There were shouts of joy as Mr. and Mrs. Sasfy celebrated the sound of their only child’s voice.

“We were so worried,” said her mother.

“Where are you?” asked father.

I’m in Baluntay. The Academy got flooded and we had some problems, but I’m alright now.”

“What kind of problems?”

“The tsunami washed out the entire village. Some of my students are missing and they have no place to live.”

That’s simply terrible,” said Mrs. Sasfy, “is there anything we can do?”

“Not really, ma. We’ll figure our way through it.”

“I suppose, but if you need anything. Just let me know. Everyone will be glad to know you’re okay. It’s such a wonderful relief!”

“Let everyone know I’m okay and I’ll call you again sometime soon,” said Rosie.

The trike arrived at the Academy and Rosie said her good-byes before heading inside. All the children were curious to see Jonny’s wound, but they were more curious to see Rosie’s new phone, even if it was the simplest model she could find.

As the children passed the phone around for a sort of show-and-tell, the children treated it like fine china.. When Rosie got it back, she quickly tucked it into her purse.

“Alright,” she said, “let’s get back to work.”

After they rinsed off the final bit of muddy residue, everyone took a short rest. The children were now curious about the phone more than ever. They wanted to text anyone and everyone who was missing.

“We’ll get to that tomorrow. It’s getting late,” said Mr. G. “If anyone wants to go with me, we’ve got plenty of clean and dry floor space on the house. If any of the adults want to take some of the children, that would work, too.”

Children were parceled and divided among the families and a full lot made the hike up Academy Road to Mr. G.’s house. As everyone settled in, it was nothing like a normal sleep-over. There really weren’t enough blankets or bed sheets to go around. Children shared spaces and just about everyone piled into either Jonny or Rosie’s bed. Quickly, children fell to sleep. Rosie was nestled between Juvie and Joy. Both girls snored lightly. Rosie just laid there, staring towards the ceiling, and listening to the sounds surrounding her. Five little words resounded inside her head.

It’s good to be home.”

.