The Moon Child

Prologue

I buried my father under the old acacia tree.

Cradled in my arms, I watched how his life-breath ebbed away, flowing back into a depthless source, like a river returning to the sea. I sang him a song of love and goodbye, my voice cracking with tears. He looked at me, eyes peaceful and glazed, and uttered my mother's name, rose petals falling from his lips. A few lingering moments more, and he was dead. Released by his final breath, his soul flew with the wings of my song to the celestial highlands.

On the bed where he laid I wrapped him in a blanket, carried his body out of our nipa hut, and took him to the backyard where the old acacia tree grew.

I stood by my father's grave, and prayed to the Divine Mother to welcome his soul into Her bosom. From the acacia an oriole gave a whooping call and flew away. I was alone. My blue eyes searched the twilight skies for some answer. And the answer came. It was time for me to leave Malana, this cursed and haunted barrio.

I packed no clothes and did not even take my bolo. I wore an old buri hat, a loose white cotton shirt, dark trousers, and sandals.

I walked down the dusty, rugged road glancing at the abandoned and dilapidated nipa huts. Bats flew out from the dark windows; monitor lizards crawled from the ground floor; stray skinny dogs scampered and howled; and the breeze whistled sadly through the bamboo trees.

I stopped by the crossroads near a cluster of trees. And I stood there for a long time. In the first twilight star that appeared in the sky, I saw a beautiful face. Maria the Moon Child was watching me.

When the star glow of visions faded, I heard a mellifluous voice. I gazed at the distance, towards the east, where the edge of the jade green forest touched the silver-blue waters of the River Amora.

The river was calling me.

I crossed the bamboo bridge. It creaked and swayed as I gingerly stepped over the rotten planks; below me, the deep waters of the river flowed sluggishly. I entered the forest and followed a narrow, winding trail into a dark green cathedral of trees, nets of hanging vines and sprawling vegetation. The voice of the River Amora grew more melodious, sweeter, and so much sadder. It sang songs to me. Songs of love and passion, eternal as the moonlight.

The moon rose in the sky, the beautiful Goddess of the Night, the guardian of love's mysteries, and I offered a prayer. Moonlight guided me through the forest, until there was no longer any trail to follow. I was lost in a secluded and forbidden territory, where wild animals roamed and enchanted spirits dwelled.

But the River Amora tenderly lulled all my fears and nurtured my hope with the beauty of its songs. And the Moon Goddess brightened her light, and revealed a secret path into the sacred garden of love.

Bermuda grass cushioned my feet and palm trees surrounded me. They were peering from behind the palm trees, and I saw them. The beautiful enchanted spirits. With their violet eyes and yellow butterfly wings.

They were watching me. They saw the birthmark on my forehead, and they knew who I was.

There was a solitary palm tree close to the cliff's edge, and there I sat and rested. Below the cliff the waters sparkled under the moonlight like swaths of diamonds. It was an old and aging river, and yet the magic of its songs remained for those who could hear them.

The river sang of a time when it was young, when its waters surged through the fields and meadows of Malana. The wind blew over me with a kiss, and the river kept on singing. The moonlight grew brighter, the visions clearer.

I saw Maria, a girl of wild untamed innocence, running freely through the bamboo trees, moonlight in her eyes, smiling, waving goodbye, and vanishing into the forest.