26 - resilience

For Mariposa Rana, there were few things finer than the last kilometer of the old National Road leading from General Santos City to Sarangani Province. Unlike the dull gray interior of Coast Guard cutters or the sterile white of the tent city, sights both familiar and friendly now surrounded her. Rice paddies and banana trees were green and verdant. Boldly painted Jeepneys gleamed in the sunlight. Even something as commonplace as the red and yellow Jollibee sign passing overhead brought a certain solace to her heart.

Still, it was a jumbled mess as Jeeps and tricycles and vans clogged the old National Road. Most were laden with scrap wood and corrugated metal scavenged from the bay.

Mariposa heaved a sigh as she stared out the window. Her eyes brightened when she saw the marquee for Jardin Sarangani.

“Can we stop here?”

“We’re stopping at the gas station up ahead,” said Mr. Lee.

As soon as the bus pulled into the lot, Mariposa jumped out of her seat and headed for the door.

“Be careful!” Rosie shouted after her. By that time, Mariposa had already scampered across the busy highway.

Instinctively, Rosie held her arms outstretched and kept the rest of the children out of harm’s way.

“Mari! Mari! Hold on a second!”

“I’m just going to Jardin Saragani to see Mr. and Mrs. Soliman!”

“Alright,” Rosie called back half-heartedly.

Mariposa ran the whole way to the market and disappeared inside.

“Mrs. Soliman! Mrs. Soliman!” she spouted gleefully. The old woman stepped from behind the counter and toddled towards her.

“Mari, is that you? Oh my goodness, it is! It’s so good to see you!”

Mrs. Soliman held Mariposa tightly against her chest and rocked her gently back and forth.

“Your parents have been worried sick. They’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Where is Mr. Soliman?”

“He’s helping with the search.”

“Oh.”

“If you want, I can take you to the furniture store.”

Mari glanced over her shoulder. Her classmates were outside, on their way down Academy Road.

“Can you hold on for one second?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Soliman as Mariposa headed outside.

“Mrs. Soliman said she could give me a ride to the furniture store.”

“Nonsense!” said Mr. Lee, “Mrs. Soliman is busy with the store. I should take you there.”

Mr. G. nodded his head as Mariposa looked to him. After checking in with Mrs. Soliman, Mariposa returned outside and headed down Academy Road. Mr. Lee’s large black sedan sat next to Brian’s old waterlogged minivan. Mr. Lee pointed the remote at his car and unlocked the doors. Mariposa plopped into the passenger seat and the black leather scrunched under her weight. It was heavenly.

“Buckle up!” said Mr. Lee, “You can never be too safe!”

Mariposa fastened the buckle and sat rigidly in her seat, her hands at her sides.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

Mariposa nodded. Still, Mr. Lee leaned over and turned the air conditioning on full blast.

Mariposa leaned back. The seat enveloped her in plush softness. A stiff breeze blew across Mariposa’s body as she adjusted herself in the seat. She turned her face towards the window and stared at the traffic outside. She thought, for the briefest of moments, how unlucky those people outside must be, caught in the sweltering heat. The cotton fabric of Mariposa’s shawl rippled gently as a stream of cool air washed over her body. She could feel the goose bumps growing on her thighs, but remained silent. She didn’t want to miss out on one second of the luxurious air conditioning. Instead, she enjoyed every bit of the sudden coldness. Meanwhile, the Jeepney passengers hung wearily out of their open windows. Mariposa felt guilty as she shivered in her seat.

Back at the furniture store, Mr. and Mrs. Rana were busy moving tables and chairs back into their proper places. There were piles of things that needed rearranging and it had kept the Ranas’ minds off the whereabouts of Dalisay and Mariposa.

 When the large black sedan pulled onto the lot, the sound of its tires rumbling over gravel caught Mrs. Rana’s attention. She placed the chair in her hands down on all fours and walked towards the open warehouse bay.

“Who is it?” asked Mr. Rana.

“I think it’s Mari.”

“Are you sure?”

Mr. Rana immediately set down his work and joined his wife at the warehouse bay. Mariposa opened the car door and popped her head outside. A wall of hot, wet air hit her in the face, but she didn’t care in the least. Mr. Rana smiled brightly as soon as he saw his daughter’s face.

“Mari!” he exclaimed.

“Daddy!” she replied.

Mariposa immediately broke into a sprint and the fabric of her shawl fluttered behind her. Mr. Rana snatched his daughter into his arms and twirled her about as if she was half her size.

“Oh, dearest Mariposa! Your mother and I were so worried about you. We have not had a good night’s sleep since the storm.”

“Oh, daddy! Me neither.”

“Where’s Dalisay?”

“I don’t know. I lost sight of her before I even hit the water.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Rana, “I’m sure she’s alright.”

Mariposa nodded quietly and leaned into her father.  Her mother closed ranks and folded her arms around both of them. She vigorously rubbed Mariposa’s back. Both layers of clothing that covered Mariposa were cold and damp.

“Dalisay will turn up somewhere,” she whispered, “I’m just sure of it.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Hot, wet tears streamed down Mari’s cheeks as she buried her face in the folds of her father’s shirt. The smell of varnish and sawdust reminded Mariposa of all those late nights at the store staining furniture with her sister. In turn, that reminded of the exact moment the waves swallowed Dalisay whole. The feeling of utter helplessness overwhelmed Mariposa while she floated in the middle of Sarangani Bay – such a small piece of water – yet, it felt so vast when she was out there alone. Her helplessness only intensified aboard the BRP Batangas.

“I bet you could use a fresh set of clothes,” offered her mother.

Mariposa nodded.

“Can I have something to eat, too?”

“Sure thing, my dearest daughter; I will wash your clothes and fix you the most special of dinners. What would you like?”

“Can you fix some chicken adobo with sticky rice?”

“Something so simple?”

“Simple is perfect,” said Mariposa.

“Okay then,” nodded Mrs. Rana, “Tonight your wish is my command. I will fix Adobo and rice. Mr. Lee, would you like something, too?”

“I am going…”

“Please, Mr. Lee,” said Mrs. Rana, “It would mean so much to us if you stayed for dinner.”

“Then how can I say no?”

Mr. Lee sat down for a home cooked dinner with Mariposa and her parents. Meanwhile, a short distance away, Mr. Soliman and Mr. Sanchez were bringing the fishing boat into the inlet at the downhill edge of Academy Road.

“We’ll tie it to a tree until we can get the boat loader.”

“You think it’ll be safe here?”

“We’re just walking to the other end of Academy Road.”

Mr. Soliman carefully looped the tow rope about the trunk of an old tree and tied it off. Then, he and Mr. Sanchez headed up Academy Road, passing Our Lady Lupita along the way.

“Hello!” called out Mr. G.

“How goes it?” asked Mr. Soliman.

“It’s going,” replied Mr. G., “just picking up the pieces.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I think we’ve got it all…”

Jonny paused for a moment to take a quick inventory of things at the Academy. His group of ragamuffins needed a hundred little things, like hot showers, clean clothes, and a place to rest their head at the end of the night.

“Do you still have that fishing boat?”

“It’s down at the bottom of Academy Road.”

“It would be nice if we could borrow it to collect scrap wood from the bay.”

“I don’t think that would be any problem, just meet us down at the far end of Academy Road in an about an hour.”

“Then we can start rebuilding Baluntay.”

Mr. Soliman and Mr. Sanchez did an about face and returned to the old fishing boat. Mr. Sanchez unfastened the mooring line and back into the bay they went. The Coast Guard rafts were gone, replaced by hundreds of small fishing vessels collecting scrap wood from the bay. The fishing boat joined the rest in the middle of the bay.

“What do you think they’ll need?” asked Mr. Soliman.

“I suppose they’ll use anything we can get loaded into the boat.”

They began laying out long, uneven pieces of timber long the sides of the hull. Soon, there were about ten pieces laid along each side of the hull. The men balanced themselves against the wood piles and returned to the shore.

“We’re right here, Mr. Soliman!” called Joy. A small troop of children waited at the leading edge of the water. Mr. Soliman cut the motor to idle and the boat coasted towards the shore until Brian reached out, grabbed it by the nose and heaved the bow onto the gravel.

“This is all we could handle,” said Mr. Soliman, “we can unload it here and make another trip out to the bay.”

Quickly, the men unloaded the large pieces of wood and groups of children took the timber, one piece a t a time, uphill towards the motorcycle pad outside Baluntay.

“We’ll be right back,” said Mr. Soliman.

“We’ll be right here,” said Joy.

The boat rumbled down the narrow water lane where Academy Road once stood, cutting between the lines of trees at either side. Meanwhile, the children continued to attack their work like a determined colony of bumble bees, selecting timber poles and dragging them into the old center of Baluntay. Two trips and three hours later, their work was finished. A collection of trunks and branches, both large and small, covered the dirt pad from edge-to-edge.

“I think that should do it,” proclaimed Mr. G.

While he surveyed the fine piece of work his children had tackled that day, Mr. Lee’s sedan and Mr. Rana’s flatbed truck pulled up alongside the village.

“Here comes the cavalry!” called out Brian. A smile immediately appeared on Mr. Lee’s face.

“What do you need from us?”

“Everything,” said Mr. G., “do you have access to any construction equipment?”

“You know I do, but I told you I was going to build shelter in the Highlands.”

“How long will that take?”

“It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”

“These families can’t wait that long. We have to build here and now.”

“Okay, we will build something here, but let me check in with Jaki and see what else we can do.”

Mr. Lee maneuvered his sedan onto the motorcycle dirt pad and turned it around. As it fell into reverse, the sedan lurched backward and the rear tires fell into a muddy rut.

“Anak ng manok!” exclaimed Jonny. – son of a chicken.

“It’s alright,” said Mr. Lee, “I should’ve known better than driving through the mud.”

“We’ll push you out,” said Brian as Mr. Rana and Mr. G. gathered behind the sedan. Meanwhile Rosie and the others stood by and watched.

“Alright, Mr. Lee, put it in first gear and slowly drive forward.”

The sedan rocked forward and back as the tires seesawed in the rut.

“Keep pushing,” said Brian.

“Do you want us to help?” asked Rosie.

“No, we’ll get it.”

The more the tires spun, the more entrenched they became. Finally, Rosie placed her fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle.

“Let’s try this another way,” she said, “I need a couple of extra hands. Herve, Mariposa, Juvie, can you come with me?”

The children followed her up Academy Road and returned with an ox cart full of gravel and garden spades.

“These tires can’t get any traction. Let’s fill the ruts with gravel.”

Rosie and the children joined Brian, Jonny, and Mr. Rana behind the sedan and on go, they all pushed. The tires spit a handful of gravel out the back as the sedan jumped the ditch and rolled free.

“Hurray!” shouted everyone.

Brian looked to Rosie.

“Well, if that isn’t a half-mile smile.”

“Nothing to it.”

Rosie gave Brian a wink and motioned as if she was wiping the dirt from her hands.

“Never a job too big for my little girl from Oklahoma,” said Jonny.

“Thanks again, Rosie,” said Mr. Lee.

 “The kids did most of the work. You just have to remember there’s always power in numbers.”

“Power in numbers…I like it.”

Mr. Lee went up Academy Road and disappeared while Rosie and the others watched.

“What will we do now?” asked Joy.

“I say we get some dinner.”

The group marched uphill and gathered at Mr. G’s house. Rosie and Mrs. Velasco roasted two large chickens and cooked some rice while everyone else waited.

“Where do you eat?” asked Mr. Rana.

“A few eat while the rest wait their turn.”

“How do you decide who goes first?”

“Old people go first. Joy goes last,” proclaimed Joy with a sour look upon her face.

“Well,” chuckled Mr. Rana, “patience is its own gift.”

“It’s a gift?”

“Sure it is. The longer you wait, the more you value those things given to you – like the chicken that gave his life for you to live another day.”

When Rosie and Mrs. Velasco were finished cooking, Rosie turned to Mr. Rana, the oldest of them all.

“Mr. Rana, you’re first. Shall I fix you a plate?”

“Not yet. I will wait patiently with Joy.”

Just then, his tummy grumbled and everyone laughed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“How can you wait when you are hungry?” asked Joy.

“There are others who are more hungry than me. For that reason, I can always wait.”

Joy sat quietly with Mr. Rana and thought about patience. As seats emptied, younger-and-younger bodies took their place at the dinner table. Finally, a chair opened when just Joy and Mr. Rana were there.

“Your turn,” said Rosie.

“I will wait for another chair so I can eat with Mr. Rana.”

The two waited only a short time more. They sat side-by-side and enjoyed their meal. Before dinner was over, they would be the last two to finish, too.

“Is everybody staying in this little house?” asked Mr. Rana.

“That’s where they spent the last two nights.”

“There’s more space at the furniture store. Why don’t we all go there? That way everyone can stretch out.”

“Are you sure?” asked Mr. G.

“Of course I’m sure.”

Mr. G. surveyed the group for a moment.

“Okay, everyone get their things and we’ll go to Mr. Rana’s Furniture Store.”

Yet again, the group had to be subdivided into smaller groups before everyone headed to the furniture store. The children took a ride on the back of Mr. Rana’s flatbed truck while the adults followed closely behind in cars.

“It was some great parade,” thought Mariposa as she stood in the back of her father’s flatbed truck. She savored every moment wedged between Rosie and Joy. A crisp and cool breeze blew across her face and made her only think of Dalisay. However, this time she wasn’t sad or scared. She waited as the truck came to a stop outside the Furniture Store. She and Joy waited and watched as friends were unloaded from the back.

“Where do you want us?” asked Jonny.

“We’ll have to make space for everyone.”

Chairs and tables screeched as they were rearranged once again. This time, Rosie led her troops as everything was sent to one end of the warehouse floor. Then, they swept and mopped the floor, making it dust-free for a good night’s rest.

Meanwhile, Mr. Gutierrez was on his phone, speaking Mr. Lee about the following day.

“I don’t think we need all that,” said Jonny.

“Sure we do,” said Arvind, “anyways, I hear that there’s power in numbers.”

“I don’t think we need to go to all this trouble, Arvind.”

“This is no trouble at all. You worry about these families tonight and I’ll worry about the morning.”

“But…”

“I insist.”

“Okay, if you insist…”

Even after everyone picked their places and laid out their sleeping bags, they were far from sleep. Children chattered long into the night as the adults attempted to quiet them down. It was only after all the excitement of being in a new place had faded that the voices grew still. Rosie, who was among the lightest of sleepers, listened in on all the quiet conversations until she was among the last awake.

“Miss Sasfy…” whispered a tiny voice.

“Yes, Herve?”

“Do you think we’ll ever find the rest?”

“I’m not sure,” she whispered, “only God knows, now go back to your sleeping bag and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”

Herve skittered back to his sleeping bag and his socks scraped against the concrete floor. It was a desolate sound as it echoed off the high metal roof and bare concrete walls.

Just then, Joy wriggled her sleeping bag up against Rosies and craned her neck out of the top. She plopped her head against Rosie’s shoulder and heaved a long, heavy sigh. Rosie heaved a sigh, too.

She hated that she had no answers for any of these children, whether or not they knew the whereabouts of loved ones. Still, it would do very little good if she didn’t get some rest, too. She leaned against Joy and closed her eyes. Still, the weight of a million little things made Rosie realize that tonight’s sleep was going to be quite a fitful one.

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