“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”
My sister screams as the thunder roars through the house. I don’t know why she keeps doing that, it’s not like it won’t happen again. Our lives have always been like this, lola says we are cursed and things have to be this way to atone for what happened.
“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”
She doesn’t let up, but the thunder is getting louder. I look outside the window and the downpour is getting steadily worse, a few more hours and we may have to move to the second floor. I go and check on the food, making sure we have enough to last through the storm.
I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t raining. We moved to Cebu when I was born because of what happened with my mom, but it was raining even there. I always wondered why typhoons would follow our family around, but you get used to the constant rain. Eventually the sound becomes soothing.
“I’m sorry.”
My mother passes by with candles. The power’s out and she always has to keep a steady supply. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and repeats her words.
I tell her she has nothing to be sorry about, that we’re a family and we can go through this together, but my words fall on deaf ears. She runs out the door and into the storm.
“I’M SORRY! ISN’T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?! LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!””
I go after her and drag her back to the house. When I look at her face I can’t tell the difference between the tears and the raindrops.
“SHE’LL NEVER LEAVE US ALONE!”
Her sobs get stronger and I hug her tight. She retells the story of her girlhood. How she went up Mt. Arayat and took something that belonged to Her, Mariang Sinukuan. Mom was pregnant with my sister then and she moved as far away as possible to protect her family. But the storms came. The storms always came.
Mom calmed down after an hour and she held my hand.
“Do you know what I stole?”
I never learned the whole story of what happened. Mom would never speak of it, not even when dad died. I didn’t know what wounds this would bring up but curiosity took the better of me. I wanted to know what was so important that I had to live my life under a constant stream of wind and rain. I looked at mom and asked her what was taken.
“A mango.”
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*Mariang Sinukuan is also called Maria of Arayat
Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Story inspired by “Mariang Sinukuan” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002.
Mariang Sinukuan Illustration by Laura Katigbak
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