The Tale of The Shoe

Till she came it was all cold.
Ever since my mother died the feather bed felt hard as a stone floor. Every word that came out of my mouth limped away like a toad. Whatever I put on my back now turned to sackcloth and chafed my skin. I heard a knocking in my skull, and kept running to the door, but there was never anyone there. The days passed like dust brushed from my fingers.
I scrubbed and swept because there was nothing else to do. I raked out the hearth with my fingernails, and scoured the floor until my knees bled. I counted grains of rice and divided brown beans from black.
Nobody made me do the things I did, nobody scolded me, nobody punished me but me. The shrill voices were all inside. Do this, do that, you lazy heap of dirt. They knew every question and answer, the voices in my head. Some days they asked why I was still alive. I listened out for my mother, but I couldn't hear her among their clamor.
When everything that could possibly be done was done for the day, the voices faded. I knelt on the hearth and looked into the scarlet cinders until my eyes swam. I was trying to picture a future, I suppose. Some nights I told myself stories to make myself weep, then stroked my own hair till I slept.
Once, out of all the times when I ran to do the door and there was nobody there, there was still nobody there, but the stranger was behind me. I thought for a moment she must have come out of the fire. Her eyes had flames in their centers, and her eyebrows were silvered with ash.
The stranger said my back must be tired, and the sweeping could wait. She took me into the garden and showed me a hazel tree I had never seen before. I began to ask questions, but she put her tiny finger over my mouth so we could hear a dove murmuring on the highest branch.
It turned out that she had known my mother, when my mother was alive. She said that was my mother's tree.
How can I begin to describe the transformations? My old dusty self was spun new. This woman sheathed my limbs in blue velvet. I was dancing on points of clear glass.
And then, because I asked, she took me the ball. Isn't that what girls are meant to ask for?
Her carriage brought me as far as the palace steps. I knew just how I was meant to behave. I smiled ever so prettily when the great doors swung wide to announce me. I refused to canape and kept my belly pulled in. Under the thousand crystal candelabras I danced with ten elderly gentlmen who had nothing to say but did not let that stop them. I answered only, Indeed and Oh yes and Do you think so?
At ten to twelve I came down the steps and she swept me away. Had enough? she asked, lifting a hair off my long glove.
But she was old enough to be my mother, and I was a girl with my fortune to jabber. They each told me to do something different. Take me back tomorrow night, I said.
So she appeared again just when the soup was boiling over, and took a silver spoon from her pocket to feed me. Our fingers drew pictures in the ashes on the hearth, vague shapes of birds and islands. She showed me the sparkle in my eyes, how wide my skirt could spread, how to waltz without getting dizzy. I was lithe in green satin now; my own mother would not have recognized me.
That night at the ball I got right into the swing of things. I tittered at the old king's jokes; I accepted a single chicken with and nibbled it daintily. I danced three times with the prince, whose hand wavered in the small of my back. He asked me my favorite color, but I couldn't think of any. He asked me my name, and for a moment I couldn't remember it.
At five to midnight when my feet were starting to ache I waited on the bottom step and she came for me. On the way home I leaned my head on her narrow shoulder and she put one hand over my ear. Had enough? she asked.
But I didn't have to listen to the barking voices to know how the story went: my future was about to happen. Take me back tomorrow night, I said.
So she came for me again just when the small sounds of the mice were getting on my nerves, and she told me they were coachmen to drive us in state. She claimed her little finger was a magic wand, it could do spectacular things. She could always make me laugh.
That night my new skin was red silk, shivering in the breeze. The prince hovered at my elbow like an autumn leaf ready to fall. The musician played the same tune over and over. I danced like a clockwork ballerina and smiled till my face twisted. I swallowed a little of everything I was offered, then leaned over the balcony and threw it all up again.
I had barely time to wipe my mouth before the prince came to propose.
Out on the steps he led me, under the half-full moon, all very fairy-tale. His long moustaches were beginning to tremble; he seemed like an actor on a creaking stage. As soon as the words began to leak out of his mouth, they formed a cloud in which I could see the future.
I could harldy hear him. The voices were shrieking, Yes yes yes say yes before you lose your chance you bag of nothingness.
I opened my teeth but no sound came out. There was no harm in this man; what he proposed was white and soft, comfortable as fog. There was nothing to be afraid of. But just then the midnight bell began to toll out the long procession of years, palatial day by moonless night. And I leapt backward down the steps, leaving one shoe behind.
The bushes tore my dress into the old rags. It was perfectly silent on the lawn. She was waiting for me in the shadows. She didn't ask had I had enough.
I had got the story all wrong. How could I not have noticed she beautiful? I must have dropped all my words in the bushes. I reached out.
I could hear surprise on her breath. What about the shoe? she asked.
It was digging into my heel, I told her.
What about the prince? she asked.
He'll find someone to fit, if he looks long enough.
What about me? she asked very low.
I'm old enough to be your mother.
Her finger was spelling on the back of my neck.
You're not my mother, I said. I'm old enough to know that.
I threw the other shoe into the brambles, where it hung, glinting.
So then she took me home, or I took her home, or we were both somehow taken to the closest thing.

*********

In the morning I asked, Who were you before you walked into my kitchen? And she said, Will I tell you my own story? It is a tale of a bird.

I’m so stressed out. Just came from my meeting with Atty. Padilla. But it also feels good that you have someone who really knows the law to give you insights, what to do and what not to do in certain situations. I don’t know why they (my parents) didn’t do this when they were the one handling our family business. Maybe because they believed they were kind enough to our employees, they trusted them that nothing would happen. But people change. They changed a lot. I don’t know why. It’s so frustrating.

Now, although I grew up surrounded by Parva, Solna and Heidelberg machineries, I still feel like I don’t know anything about it. Let alone about all the laws involved. When my sister left for Canada last November 2004, it felt like a blur. I was thrown into a pack of wolves. I was anticipating it. I even had nightmares. I got really scared. I was thinking I’m going to fail the promises I gave her; to take care of the business and Nanay. You know what is more frustrating than having “pasaway” na employees? It is having people you thought you could trust but betray you in the end. For what?! money, power, selfishness or inggit?

God! My Nanay would always say, “walang masamang tinapay”. I salute her for that, for having complete faith in every person she meets. But it also has its downside… people tend to be abusive. They saw it as a chance to get what they want, whatever they want whenever they want.

I feel sad when I think about what might happen in the near future. About this legacy my father left us. A small business (started almost thirty years ago) that gave us a good life. A very good life. For that, I’m forever thankful and in debt to my parents. My only way of repaying them is looking after my father’s grave (he died six years ago) and caring for my mother.

As for the business… I will try to keep my head above water and swim for dear life.

my first post...

I lost the first blog I made here ages ago. I forgot the password and username... hehehe! Hay... that's me! Always forgetting things... Dami kasing iniisip lately. So many changes and responsibilities. In an hour or two, i'll be having my second meeting with our lawyer. Goodness! On a friday night still doing business. Sana mag cancel sya. Sana.

I still have that hang-over (hang-over sa katatawa) from last night's KTV session with Jai and our friends from Marikina. Grabe! Ate Tina got really drunk... magdive ba naman sa table. Buti nalang at di nabasag yung mga bottles at ang pulutan! buti at di natapon. Nawala lasing ko dun ah! Drama kasi ni Ate Tina e. Got home mga 1:30am na yata. Still watched a late show till 3am. I couldn't sleep, with all that alcohol, sleep didn't came easy. Hhhmm....

It's almost eight...

Later.