The Color of My Fears [COMPLETE]

Chapter 5 - The Tinhab [#17]

The tinhab. It's the first time I heard about it. And my life will have revolved around it for a few days. I couldn't shake it off. A secret word has power, much more a name reeking of mystery, spoken of by one even more mysterious.

One night after supper, I asked Father about the mysterious tinhab. He looked at me with a stare that said you better forget it. I knew better then than pursue the subject further.

As I was about to leave, I heard him say, "Don't ever attempt to catch a tinhab. It would make your wish come true. That's the good part. The bad part is it also bloats your fears out of proportion." That said, Father went out of the house, down the bamboo steps and onto the yard (ugsaran). When I glanced upwards, I saw myriads of stars (bituon) in the sky flooded with moonlight. Lured by the twinkling lights in the heavens, I followed Father outside.

"You said the tinhab could heighten my fears. What if I have no fears, I mean, what if I fear nothing?" I asked. The words came out spontaneously. Unconsciously, I spoke about my fears without me knowing how I thought about them. The events of the past few days leave nothing to my imagination. I didn't need to imagine my fears. I felt them. They're real as the bite of the pala.

Father turned to face me. "I will tell you a story, later, about the tinhab. When you're ready to hear it. Until then don't try to discover what it is. It will just come to you naturally. You don't seek it; it will find you if it so desires."

Father's words, I admitted that night, didn't enlighten me. They just confused more the mind of a twelve-year old. What was so special about the tinhab, as if the mention of it was taboo? I was sure the village's original inhabitants (dumaan) knew about it, and Father must have heard the story from Grandfather (Lolo). I heard him once tell me and my siblings a story about a small, brilliant stone (trabungko). How Grandfather climbed the ceiling to catch a spider because the spider was getting away with the precious stone. Unfortunately, Grandfather blew the chance to be rich. He thought he had caught the spider in his palms. When he opened them, they were empty. The spider and the trabungko and all the wealth it could have brought us were nowhere to be found. Nada. (I still don't know what a trabungko is. If it's a brilliant stone, how did the spider come in possession of it?)

But then, I would very much would like to hear the story about the tinhab, how it came to be. If it's a legend, did it have a basis in fact?

Father might have guessed what I felt that night. He was silent for a long time. There we were the two of us, standing in the front yard, silent but alive with our thoughts. Mother's little garden planted with flowers of different kinds suffused the air around us with their fragrance. Red, pink and white roses, red and pink hibiscus (gumamela), white daisy, red and yellow jasmine (santan), yellow bells (kampanilya), red and yellow money tree flowers, and even the Plumeria (kalachuchi), said to be flowers for the dead.

At last, Father looked up the sky, moved his lips as if he's silently counting the stars. Literally. I followed his gaze heavenwards and saw up there familiar groups of stars I came to know during the endless sessions of going with him to the cane station.

-ooo-