The Moon Child

"I think we'd better go."

Miguel led her into a rise, through a hall of pili trees, following a hard brown slivering trail. Farther to the southwest, beyond the hills and coconut trees, were hectares of rice fields, a sea of ripening golden stalks, bending with servile grace to the wind, watched by low hanging clouds drifting by.

"Why are the barrio women angry with you?"

"People don't like you when you're different."

"I like you." Miguel smiled.

"Why?"

"Because you're different."

Maria laughed. It was a beautiful sound, sparkling like stardust. It made Miguel laugh too.

A hill's shoulder and a flat field of palm grass came into view. But they could not go further. There were voices from the hill, and they hid themselves behind the pili trees and isis shrubs.

A group of women appeared, rounding the hill and strolling down the hard brown path, carrying their round shallow tubs and washed clothes. The women came from the river. They chatted and laughed among themselves, teasing the younger, unmarried ones to beware of getting husbands who enjoy spicy foods. It gives them an insatiable carnal appetite.

"What do you do about such husbands?" The unmarried ones asked.

"We just keep feeding them papayas!" The married ones laughed.

They waited until the women reached the main path, where they dispersed in different directions, each returning to their own homes among the neighboring nipa huts.

"You don't have to come with me," Maria said. "I can make my way to the river from here."

"And then what are you going to do? Swim to the forest?"

"Yes. I'm a very good swimmer."

Miguel went beside a pili tree and pointed towards the rice fields. "My father owns those fields. He's there right now. We should go to him. He will protect you."

But Maria was looking elsewhere, towards the east, across fields of palm grass, at the faint glimmer of the silver-blue river. "I would rather take my chances and go straight to the river."

"No," Miguel insisted, taking hold of her hand. "My father will protect us. We're safer with him. Come, let's go this way."

He pulled her along. But something made Maria uneasy. Danger was close by, and they were going towards it. "Stop."

"What's wrong?" He looked at her.

They heard voices, not of women, but men.

"We must leave," she said.

"No, wait," he said, holding her back. "These men work for my father. They know me and will help us."

Three big men emerged from a copse of trees and stopped when they saw Maria. They grinned like slavering dogs. Their hulking figures approached her.

"I've made a mistake," Miguel said. "I don't know these men."

"I know them," Maria said. "They're bullies and troublemakers from the barrio."

"Maria," they said. "Don't run away. We just want to talk and be friends."

She could smell musky sweat and the odor of lust and malice. Toro was the biggest. Gross and evil, he had been trying to hunt her down in the forest like she was some prized animal.

Toro glared at Miguel. "Hey, runt, go home to your mother. Maria's a friend of ours. We'll take care of her."

Toro's two other companions were Diego and Baldo. Their grins grew slimier, the glint in their eyes more dangerous.

"Run, Maria!" Miguel yelled.

Miguel faced the men. Always a brave boy, he was fearless whether facing up to bullies in school or being sent on important errands during dark and stormy nights. Gallantry and courage were qualities he possessed. And with unselfish heroism, he defended Maria.

He attacked the men. But his small fists struck them like a flurry of buzzing little flies, pesky, but easily warded off with a sweep of their brawny arms and bullish strength. With an ugly laugh, Toro grabbed him by the neck, lifted him, and hurled him against a thorny bush.

Her little protector gone, they surrounded Maria. Their rough, hairy hands grasped her arms and shoulders. But she looked at them, bold, fearless and angry.

She summoned her moonpower. It came. It exploded. A white blinding light, scorching, sulphurous, and booming like the tremendous kick of powerful horses.

The men yelled in pain, letting her go, their hands scorched and raw. They covered their eyes fearing they had been blinded. They stumbled helplessly and fell to the ground, heads knocking together like colliding coconuts.