Still, each of them dealt with their plight as best they could and there probably weren’t two more disparate souls than those of Joy Jaramillo and Mariposa Rana. The more time Mariposa spent in the passenger hold of the BRP Batangas, the more time she had to think about those last few seconds with her sister. In fact, she obsessed over it, that briefest of moments when her sister was engulfed by the sea swell. It replayed over and over in Mariposa’s head and she questioned her own failure to react quickly. Dalisay could not swim. Mariposa knew that more than anyone else on earth.
“Unloading for General Santos City,” the captain’s voice echoed over the cruiser’s loudspeakers.
Mariposa’s heart was still empty as she realized she was going to be dumped off in some strange city, far from home. Never mind that the Red Cross tent city in Gensan was less than ten kilometers from her father’s furniture store.
The fishing port of General Santos City had been cleared of fishing trawlers and the market had been cleared away by government orders. The large open-air fish markets had been emptied and fire hoses had washed all the muck into the bay. The only thing that remained was the musk of rotten tarpon and tuna. Still, the fishing piers were barely negotiable for the Coast Guard Cutter as it edged to the shore.
Most of the passengers unloaded there, happy to have both feet on firm ground once again. Mariposa grabbed onto the old man’s shirttail as the crowd pushed down the ramp towards the pier. A long stretch of concrete was filled with clean white gazebo tents marked “registration”, “first aid”, and “lost and found.”
Mariposa pulled away from the old man and headed toward the lost and found sign.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To the lost and found.”
“I think we should get registered first.”
He reached out a hand and Mariposa reluctantly grabbed hold. They stood in line for an hour before being served, even though there were dozens of receptionists working diligently at their laptops.
“Good morning,” said the receptionist, “may I have your last name?”
“Do you know how I can find my sister?”
“If she’s at this Red Cross Center, her name will be in the database.”
“Can you look for her?”
“We only do registration here.”
“Can you please look? It’s very important to me.”
The old man gently pressed the tips of his fingers into Mariposa’s shoulder.
“Dear, they can’t do that here.”
“But…”
“We’ll check in at lost and found after we finish our registration.”
Mariposa glanced at the line for the lost and found. There were only a handful of receptionists working there and the lines must have been twice as long.
“Your name?”
“Mariposa Rana.”
“Rana, R-A-N-A?”
Mariposa nodded.
“Okay, what is your sister’s name?”
“Dalisay…D-A-L-I…”
“There’s nobody here with the last name of Rana at all. You’re the first.”
Mariposa slumped slightly in her frame.
“It doesn’t mean she’s not at one of the other centers or out on a boat. It just means she hasn’t registered at this center.”
“Oh…” responded Mariposa.
“Let’s get you registered so your sister can find you. I need your first name again.”
“Mariposa…M-A-R-I…”
The registration went relatively quick and Mariposa waited for the old man as he registered his name and looked for missing relatives, too. Just like Mariposa, his family was nowhere to be found.
“Now,” said the receptionist, “you should check in at the first aid station. They can give you a check-up and administer booster shots if you need them.”
“Miraming Salamat,” said the old man – “thank you very much.” That seemed to be the phrase slipping from everyone’s lips as the dread of cleanup was upon the Filipinos and they took it all in stride. After all, resilience was the only solution for a mountain of troubles.
“I guess it’s you and me, kid; two against the world,” said the old man.
Mariposa smiled weakly, “I guess so.”
They waited another hour in the First Aid line, although Mariposa thought there was really no reason to see a medic. Nothing really happened to her.
The nurses administered antibacterial medicine and small lunch kits with bottled water, sandwiches, and fresh fruit. Mariposa and the old man headed to the rest tents and found their cots. They sat across from each other and began to eat. Mariposa started with the slices of jackfruit packaged in a small serving cup. In seconds, the cup was empty.
“You must’ve been hungry,” said the old man.
Mariposa nodded.
“I’ve got slices of santol. Do you want some?”
“I cannot possibly…”
“Here, take some,” he insisted.
“What about you?”
“What about me? I am but an old man, you are young and still growing, like a leafy tree.”
“I don’t…”
“I will not eat it.”
The old man dumped the fruit into her lunch container.
Mariposa felt bad, but she could not help but eat. The fruit nourished her, both inside and out.
“Are you feeling better now?”
Mariposa nodded.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “God has a plan for both you and me. He has a plan for everything.”
Still, the sentiment did not find Mariposa comfortably because her mind was preoccupied with her sister. What was Allah’s plan for that?
She took a deep breath and concentrated on her own question.
“If you run from death, it will catch you. If you stand still, it will grasp you, but do not fear death. Live your life in the name of Allah and surround all about you with love and in his heart you will always abide.”
She had not confided to the old man about being Muslim although she’d spotted the crucifix hanging about his neck. Instead, she remained silent. All she could do was stay there and wait. Maybe that was part of Allah’s plan after all.
Back in Baluntay, Arvind Lee was done with waiting. He’d heard the noises from both sides of his own personal wars and decided to act in the best interest of his own soul. The best time for mending a broken friendship was now, so he paid a visit to Our Lady Lupita and his childhood friend Jonny Gutierrez.
“I just don’t know what to do with this old Academy,” said Jonny, “just when I think I have my head above water, something happens. Look at this mess. All these children without their parents.”
“There’s something else we can try,” said Arvind.
“Which is?”
“We’ll visit the Red Cross center in Gensan. Maybe we can find some of the villagers there.”
“Even if we had a way of getting everyone to Gensan…”
“We’ll hire a bus. It’ll be a sort of field trip.”
Arvind fished his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the construction office. Jaki immediately answered.
“You want me to charter a bus for the Academy? It can’t possibly get down Academy Road.”
“We’ll meet it at the gas station near the national road.”
“Okay, I’m sending a bus your way. Just get the children to the gas station.”
Arvind pocketed his phone and gave Jonny a wink, “We just need to round up these kids.”
“I got it,” said Rosie. She promptly inserted two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle. As always, the children flocked around her.
“That’s quite some trick,” said Arvind.
“But it’s not my only one,” said Rosie as she motioned to the children. Quickly, they formed a single file line behind the girl from Oklahoma.
“Alright, troops, is everyone ready?”
All the children nodded obediently.
“Let’s head on up Academy Road to the gas station.”
Brian walked side-by-side with Rosie while she led the troops, marching uphill at a brisk pace. Jonny simply smiled and fell in at the back of line. Arvind followed closely behind.
Soon, Joy galloped to the front of the line, and although she was nearly breathless, she registered a complaint.
“Rosie! You are going much too much too fast!”
Both Rosie and Brian glanced down at the little girl doing her best to keep pace. She was taking three strides for every step Rosie took.
“I think she’s right,” added Brian, “I’m starting to get a little winded, too.”
Rosie glanced back down the line. Arvind and Jonny, who were heading up the rear, were part of their own group, a good 50 meters behind Rosie and the lead group.
“Okay, we’ll wait.”
She stood there in the mud with her hands on her hips.
“This is not a hundred-meter relay,” gasped Jonny.
“Thank goodness, or we’d be in last place.”
She grabbed Joy by the hand and continued on, but at a pace dictated by the littlest of them all. The pace was very slow, but the group managed to make it to the top of the hill in good time. They turned the corner and walked the short distance to the gas station. A bus was already there.
“Is this it?” asked Rosie.
“I think so,” said Arvind.
The children loaded onto the bus. Of course, Joy grabbed the seat beside Rosie before Brian or anyone else could sit down.
“Can I have the window?” she begged.
Rosie obliged and Joy scooted towards the open window. She rested her arms upon the metal frame and watched as everything passed by her in a blur. The bus sped along the national highway between Sarangani and Gensan and the wind whipped through the aisles.
“It’s so cold,” said Joy.
“You are nothing but trouble,” said Brian.
“I’m chilled to the bone.”
“Put on that jacket wrapped in your hands.”
“It’s too big.”
“If you’re cold, then it’s not too big.”
The jacket billowed around Joy like a bright orange and yellow balloon as she tugged it over her scrawny body. She even pulled the hood over her head and pulled the draw cord until the hood was fastened tightly around her head. She laid her arms back on the window frame and looked outside. Brian just laughed at the hypocrisy of the cold girl facing off with the brisk wind. Still, Joy didn’t care about the wind as much as the view. She made the best of things because the oversized rain jacket kept her snug and warm.
.The bus rumbled down the old national highway, seemingly hitting every bump and crack along the way. Joy’s teeth chattered as her head bounced in her hands. Stubbornly, she acted as if it didn’t bother her in the least. However, Rosie folded her hands beneath her rear end in an effort to smooth out the ride.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she said.
Jonny chuckled, “it’ll be over soon.”
“One can only hope.”
The bus crossed the ridge and entered the Gensan fishing bay.
“Whoa!” came a collective gasp from the children.
Hundreds of tents dotted the landscape like some fantastic mosaic design.
“How can we possibly find anyone?” stated Juvie.
“Don’t worry,” said Mr. Lee, “everything is so organized that they know where every person has his or her own address.”
The bus pulled up to the outskirts of the tent city and everyone disembarked. A giant flag of the Philippines wagged tirelessly at the inlet to Port Gensan.
“I bet we can find our answers over there!” said Mr. Lee.
“It’s an awful long way,” said Jonny.
“Maybe we can catch a tricycle.”
“We can’t possibly catch a tricycle with all these kids,”
“Yes, yes,” nodded Mr. Lee, “I suppose you’re right. Let us split into two groups. One will go to registration and the other group will wait here.”
“Who stays and who goes?” asked Brian.
“Who wants to go?”
Nearly every child raised a hand.
“We can’t all go,” said Brian, “I’ll stay behind.”
“Me, too,” said Rosie.
“Me, too!” said Joy.
“Brian,” said Jonny, “why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll stay here and rest my leg. We need someone who knows everyone in the community.”
Now, with one of teachers going in each direction, the group was split in half. The younger children stayed behind with Jonny and Rosie while the boys and older children headed to the inlet with Brian and Mr. Lee.
“Can I have a horsey ride, pretty please?” Joy pleaded with Rosie.
“Alright, hop on my knees.”
Joy did just that, literally hopping on top of Rosie’s lower thighs. Rosie didn’t mind, though, as she grabbed Joy by the wrists and bounced her back and forth, simulating a bucking bronco. The little girl rode easily for quite some while, taking everything Rosie could dish out.
“Okay, no hands,” said Rosie.
“Alrighty!”
Joy extended her hands to her sides and rode the bucking bronco just as easily as before. Joy chuckled loudly as she continued to ride. Her laughter was infectious as a group gathered around to watch.
“Alright!” said Rosie, “that’s about enough.”
“But I’m not tired yet.”
“Yes, but the horsey is tired. Plus, your bony tail bone is grinding into my thighs.”
“But…”
“Joy!” scolded Mr. G., “You’ve had your fun. Rosie said she’s tired, so please let her relax.”
“Oh, this is just awful,” groaned Joy as she collapsed onto Rosie’s lap.
“Joy!” repeated Mr. G., “Quit crawling all over Rosie! “I can’t imagine she likes it.”
.It’s okay,” said Rosie.
“No, no it’s not. Joy, sit up like a proper young lady.”
At that point, Joy took a seat at the end of the table and pouted as she always did. Mr. G. ignored her, which meant everyone else ignored her, too.
Joy may have felt alone, but nothing like Mariposa Rana, who was on the other side of the tent city, sitting with the old man, discussing their current state of affairs.
“Do you think they’ll find your daughter?”
“I’m not sure,” sighed the old man, “What will be, will be.”
“I don’t know how you do it. My heart is broken into one million tiny pieces thinking about my sister.”
“My heart is broken, too, but we have to go on, no matter what.”
A small contingent appeared in front of Mariposa and the old man. It included Brian, Arvind Lee, and Juvie Velasco.
“Hey,” said Juvie.
“Oh! Hey!”
Mariposa immediately jumped up and gave Juvie a great, big, bear-hug. It took Juvie completely by surprise.
“It’s good to see you,” said Juvie.
“It’s so very good to see you, too! What are you doing here?”
“We’re trying to find everyone, of course.”
“Have you seen Dali?”
“Uh…” stammered Juvie.
“No, Mari,” Brian interrupted, “you’re the first person we’ve found from Baluntay – but we haven’t been looking very long at all.”
Brian put a reassuring arm over Mariposa’s shoulder. Mariposa said her final good-bye to the old man, exchanging names before they parted company. Then, she and her friends headed through the maze of Army cots towards the Lost and Found desk. Yet again, Mariposa waited in a long line and a receptionist ran through a long list of names – every name of every missing person the group from Baluntay could recollect. Not one name appeared as found. The receptionist listed every one of them as ‘lost’.
“So depressing,” said Mariposa.
“It will all work out for the best,” said Mr. Lee.
“I guess so.”
Mariposa was happy to be reunited with classmates like Agnes Serencio and Juvie Velasco because she’d known both of them her entire life. Still, she felt alone. They were Catholic and she was Muslim. She and Dalisay were always the outsiders, whether it was Call to Prayer or Saturday Mass. Holidays were strange affairs, too. The Ranas always took vacation for Ramadan and all the Catholic kids were wound up throughout December with their Christmas celebrations. Deep down, Mariposa never understood why her father didn’t send her to a Muslim school. Still, she loved the Academy. She’d always adored Mr. G. as well as both of the Jaramilos. The other children, the ones she hardly knew, were gracious and kind. Even though she was an outsider, it still felt like home.
“Mari! Mari! Mari!” screeched a tiny voice. A tiny girl, glad in a canary yellow and bright tangerine jacket, jumped out of her seat and ran towards Mariposa.
“Joy! It is so good to see you!”
Joy leapt directly into Mariposa’s arms. Mariposa caught her, but was barely able to keep her balance. Joy, however, held on tight.
“Where’s my sister?”
“She’s…oh…she’s gone.”
“What about this?” said Mariposa as she tugged on the rain jacket.
“The Coast Guard found this, but there was no Dalisay.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay,” comforted Joy, “Your parents will be happy to see you.”
Joy planted a big kiss on Mari’s cheek. It was the nicest Joy had ever been to her, although Joy and Dalisay were nearly inseparable at school.
Mariposa sighed, long and deep. Then, she folded her arms about little Joy and held on tight as she carried back to the bus. Mariposa picked a seat near the back and leaned against the window. She folded her arms, just as Joy had done, and stared out the window. Joy sat next to her and leaned against Mariposa. Mariposa freed an arm and draped it over Joy’s back.
After everything else, realized Mariposa, it was good just to be home.
.
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