He loved the holiday season, there were so many children, so naïve and trusting.
Take Jonah for example, his parents let him out of their sight for only a few minutes. He wandered off in the mall and happened upon a nice old man carrying a sack.
He asked, “Are you Santa Claus?” and the man replied “Of course I am! Would you like a present?”
Jonah immediately peered into the sack, such was the boy’s excitement in getting a new toy. He didn’t even feel the blow to the back of his head. Kids these days were so materialistic, it would be such a shame if someone took advantage of that.
Lualhati was a different story. She was the most well behaved girl any parent could ask for. She spent her days looking after her little siblings.
She was such a brave girl too, distracting the old man long enough for her little brother to run away. She was no match for him of course, and into the sack she went.
Then there was the girl, Flordeliza, such a snobby little brat. She wouldn’t talk to anyone unless she thought they could give her sweets.
The old man used that to lure her into a nice little alleyway. Before she could even think to scream she was in the sack, along with the other children.
Rizalino always had his head down. His parents believed in letting technology do the brunt of the work when it came to raising children.
He was so proud when he got his tablet, he would spend hours and hours watching his brightly colored cartoons or playing another mind numbing video game. It was as if that screen was his entire world.
He never realized that there were things happening beyond his screen, like a very old man and a sack creeping up behind him.
And finally came Amor, a very troubled child. She would wander around the city because she didn’t feel like listening to her parents getting into a shouting match for the hundredth time.
If she listened to them she might have heard them say ‘Never talk to strangers’, but children can be so stubborn. They always think they know everything. That is, until everything proves them wrong.
The old man checked his list and made sure he had enough for his special recipe, he needed to have some left over to sell to the market, ‘It’s the holidays’ he reminded himself. There would be other chances, he just had to wait.
He could feel the movement coming from the sack. The children were starting to wake up, it was much too soon for that. The old man took the fruits of his labor, far away from the city to his little kubo in the mountains.
It wasn’t always like this, of course. In the old days he would never be able to get this many children in such a short amount of time.
He thought back to when the concrete jungles were a glimmer of inspiration in the eyes of the tycoons, and a sea of green dominated the landscape.
In those times he would have to wait for the odd child to wander into the woods, never to be heard from again. Their parents would come by and ask all the questions a concerned parent needed to ask:
“Have you seen our little girl?” “Did they walk by your kubo?” “Will you help us look for them?”
He would smile and say a few remorseful words. No one would ever think that an old, venerable lolo could have anything to do with the disappearances of a few children. The very thought was laughable.
And he laughed all the way home.
The room inside the kubo was pure chaos. Scarlet stains and misplaced limbs were fighting a battle for supremacy.
The old man put the sack down and five small figures came tumbling out. There was some slight movement, but he knew they wouldn’t regain consciousness for a few more minutes.
He grabbed his lucky cleaver and readied himself for the first chop. The girl, Lualhati, was closest. The old man thought that her blood would make for good dinuguan.
As he raised his knife, she decided to strike. The heel of her foot hit the old man’s stomach, he collapsed to the ground, letting out a scream of pain.
“Everyone run!”
In that instant the four other children woke from their stupor and made for the door. The old man managed to grab the leg of one of the boys, but he bit his hand and the old man lost his grip.
The old man watched as the children fled his kubo. He didn’t bother chasing them, all that running would make their meat tough and stringy.
He pulled up a chair and sat down. He would have to be more careful next time.
The old man glanced outside his window and stared at the tall buildings in the distance.
There would always be more children, and he was nothing if not patient.
After all, he had been doing this for a very, very long time.
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Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by the Tagalog Tigabulak legends
Tigabulak Illustration by Glendford Lumbao
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