I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.
It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.
“Wak….wak…..wak….”
The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.
The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.
I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand,
probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.
I waited.
I waited.
It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.
I waited and it was gone.
To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of
“Wak…..wak…..wak….”
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Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante
Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations