The Moon Child

This time she chose not to run away. She was curious about the gift he offered. No one had ever given her a gift.

From his pocket he took out an alms-pouch made of deerskin. He moved closer to give her the pouch. But when he saw how she backed away nervously, he did not go further and remained where he was.

"I will leave it here." He placed the gift at the base of the tree trunk. His dark, deep-set eyes gazed at her with intensity. "I love you."

Pain flashed in her eyes. And her tears escaped from the prison of her heart. "Do not speak of love. I do not desire it from you or from anyone."

"I love you," he repeated with a passion that could not contain itself. "You're always running away. You're always hiding. You should learn to make friends and be part of the barrio."

She suddenly grew angry. "What do you want with me? I will never be part of the barrio. They hate me and curse me. They say I turn into a wildcat and feed on human flesh. Shouldn't you be afraid of someone like me?"

"I don't believe in these stories. I believe you are a good and beautiful girl who deserves to be loved."

"You mentioned love again. If you say it once more I will leave."

"I cannot help myself. I love you."

She was gone, swiftly slipping into shrubs and trees, sprinting away. Arturo was left alone, but he was smiling. She had taken the gift. He knew that she lived in a nipa hut hidden deep in the forest, together with Lucila, an old and wise woman, known in the barrio as the Witch of the Winds.

"I don't know how much longer it will take, but I will have you as my wife."

He had fallen in love with her years ago. And love's firelight illumined his heart and kept it warm and patient all this time. He would search for her in the forest. Sometimes he would see her roaming through the bamboo groves, choosing and picking certain herbs and roots from the lush vegetation. She amazed him. Bluebirds came to her when she called them. The wild and fierce tamaraws (that no one from the barrio could approach without being gored) would allow her to feed them grass from her hand. Brown spotted deer would sit beside her and be kissed. Gamboling civets played at her feet like pets.

On summer days he would see her dancing with the butterflies. When the monsoon rains came, she would be sheltered beneath an acacia tree with a bluebird perched on her shoulder.

He tried to keep it a secret, but his friends in the barrio found out about his love for her. Early one morning, by accident, he saw her bathing in the river on the far northeastern side, near the steep craggy mountains, where few people ventured because it was a barren and difficult terrain.

Seeing how she was alone and completely naked, he averted his eyes, turned away, and hid behind a huge boulder. He would never profane his love by seeing her naked and vulnerable, unless she was his wife and loved him as a husband. He contented himself listening to her singing as she washed herself. When she was finished, she dressed, and was gone.

During a drinking bout with his friends, they voiced their lustful intentions. Imagine, seeing her naked, defenseless and alone.

Arturo was enraged by these remarks. He smashed a liquor bottle with his fist, took out his bolo and struck it on the table. "I would cut off anyone's head who dared hurt and defile Maria."

His friends knew him as the strongest, toughest and most honest man in Malana, qualities that made him the barrio captain. He was a quiet man who said only what he meant from his heart, and they all knew how serious he was with his pronouncement.

The mood became somber because of his drunken threat. To lighten things up, his best friend, Gardo, spoke up. "Which head are you going to cut off? We have two."

"The one that doesn't talk," Arturo snapped.

The tension dispersed, the mood changed, everyone laughed, and started drinking again. But afterwards, Arturo realized his secret had been revealed. Everyone in barrio Malana knew how much he was in love with Maria.

He was a strong and powerful man. Nobody in the barrio could beat him in a fistfight. Only his love for this girl, this wild enchanted flower from a garden of dreams, made him vulnerable as an open wound.

The first twilight star appeared in the sky. It was time for him to go home, back to the barrio, back to a nipa hut where he lived alone.

He left the fire tree and walked down the hill. Something white and beautiful and fragrant caught his attention. From a shrub he broke off a slender branch, bearing a cluster of white jasmine, star-shaped flowers scented with the powder of paradise.

He glanced up at the twilight star once more, solitary and beautiful, a jasmine in the sky. And in the star he saw Maria's face.