“Go away! You’re not my real mom!”
Sister Mariam tried as hard as she could to calm him down but she knew patience was her virtue. This would pass, as all things do.
It took half an hour and the child’s tears finally dried. He sat up and finished his dinner.
Sister sighed, another small battle won.
The child had no name, at least none that he would admit to. He was found at the footsteps of the church one evening when the clouds were low and the moon shined through.
As Sister Mariam was finishing cleaning up the table a shriek reverberated through the hallways, coming from the main entrance.
“Hold this devil!” shouted Sister Sibil.
It was the child, of course it had to be the child.
“He was trying to climb the gate but we were able to stop him,” Sister Sibil explained.
The child had calmed down and seemed to have given up his escape plan.
Sister Sibil shot the child a withering gaze but Sister Mariam knew how to deal with her.
“Come on now, time for bed,” Sister Mariam said.
They left Sister Sibil and headed for the dormitory.
“You know you shouldn’t keep doing that.”
“…..”
“Now you’re quiet? After the day that you put us through?”
“You’re not…” the child whispered.
“Not your real mother, is that what you were going to say?”
The child turned his head away.
“If I was your mother you’d probably end up more behaved.”
“Don’t you dare say that about my mom! She took care of us!”
Sister Mariam’s eyebrow rose. “Us? You have brothers or sisters?”
The child tensed up.
“Oh well if you don’t want to talk about it then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sister led the child to his bed and turned out the light.
So full of mystery, this child. She thought to herself. But nothing that the good Lord can’t save.
=————————————————=
“Pssst!”
Ramil was groggy, he had spent the last few hours as king of his dreamland all to be woken up by a noise. To his surprise it was the no-named kid that they found a few days before.
“It’s past your bedtime, it’s past MY bedtime, let me sleep.”
But the kid would not let up.
“Pssst! Psssst!!”
Ramil sighed, his sleep was ruined anyway so he might as well see what was happening.
He felt the tug of the kid leading him to a corner of the dormitories. It looked like they weren’t alone either. Rows of orphans greeted them as the kid took his place in front.
“The sisters don’t want what’s best for you, they’re content with keeping you in this prison.”
“We’re prisoners?” A small voice came from the back.
“Yes!! Don’t you see we are all here because the sisters don’t want us to know real freedom! They feed us slop and gruel and make us pray all hours of the day just to keep us quiet!”
Ramil shook his head. He was old enough to know the type of person the kid was: Young and headstrong, the only story that mattered was his. But this would turn out different from all the other times.
“Stop! Don’t say another word.”
“Listen to me—–”
“How dare you! How dare you assume you know anything about us. The sisters give us meals to eat and a roof above our heads.”
“But the sisters give you nothing but—-”
“Before the sisters came this happened to me.”
Ramil unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a nasty scar on his right shoulder.
“And I was one of the lucky ones.”
Silence stilled around the orphans.
“Every one of us has a reason to be here and all of us can agree that we were way worse off than we are now with the sisters.”
The orphans nodded.
“If we leave who will protect us?”
“My mom will protect us, I know she will!”
“Your mom is just one person, how can she take care of all of us?”
“You’ve never met my mother then. Please, just listen to me.”
The orphans’ eyes settled on the child with no name.
The child regaled them with a tale all too familiar. How a small boy lost his only family and was left stranded in the jungle. He was lost, alone and hungry until his prayers were answered by the flap of golden wings.
“Your mom is an angel?!”
In tears, the child continued his story. About how the angel shielded him from the elements and taught him how to live with the land. About how he was never alone because there were other children she looked after. About how he felt truly loved and part of a family.
“If she was so great why are you here? You’re an orphan just like the rest of us.”
The child’s voice cracked and tears streamed down his face. He told of a fire that ravaged his home and how they had no choice but to run. How he ended up on the steps of the church as a last resort, begging them to help his mother.
They didn’t listen.
No one did.
=——————————————————————=
The child managed to convince a few other orphans to escape with him and to everyone’s surprise they made it out of the church grounds.
Ramil always wondered what happened to the kid with no name and his followers.
But he did hope.
That they found their mother.
=—————————————————————–=
Story inspired by Vanoverbergh, Morice. (1936). “The Isneg Life Cycle I: Birth, Education, and Daily Routine.” PCAC 3 (2):81-186, p. 98.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Laglagemin Illustration by Abe Joncel Guevara
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