In April Nights Past

Chapter 03

After I had unpacked what bit of clothes I had with me, I went straight to the banyo to wash away the dirt I had accumulated and changed into a fresh set of clothes. I was too tired to take a bath and I could imagine my mother not letting me hear the end of it if she found out I got near a body of water after my long journey.
I found my grandmother at the foot of the stairs when I stood on the top step on my way down.
"Ahh, you've changed. Good." said Lola Umping. "Let's have some merienda."
I followed her lead to the dining area which was filled with the aroma of thick hot chocolate. Lolo Pidyo who had gone to return the carabao to its mud bath now sat at the head of the table eating biko and palauan – a strange root crop I would not find anywhere else that tasted dry and sweet. Jun-Jun was nowhere in sight.
I sat with them. After I had answered a few additional questions about my parents, myself and life in Manila in general, I excused myself from the table so I could walk around the house with my plate as I ate which was a rather strange thing to do. I never had the need to eat while walking before but I wanted to familiarize myself with the house.

My grandparents' house stood a stone's throw away from one of the tributaries of Rio de Paric and served as the boundary of my grandparents' and their neighbor's land. Stepping inside the house felt like going back in time. Inside was all panels of wood darkened by soot and the years that have come and gone. The furniture were the simple, solid and old-fashioned kind that leaned towards the practical rather than the ornamental. They were conservatively engraved with patterns and looked very much as old as the house.
The house had a terrace that opened up to the creek. From there you can catch a glimpse of some of the houses of the tenants who tended the kalubi-an and azucarera. Through the window of my bedroom, I had an unobstructed view of the Riverside Park of the sister pueblo Maria Victoria across the river. Boats that carried copra and other dried goods occupied a good part of the river's width. It was a busy time.
I saw pictures of my mother and her siblings when they were no older than I was. I could never imagine my mother being ever young - I have tried many times and failed miserably - and yet there she was smiling at me in black and white.
From where I had stood in my bedroom earlier, I had seen one binatá chasing after some of the chickens for that unlucky one that undoubtedly would end up as part of the evening victuals. The tour of the house did not take long and so when I was done eating, I went to the kitchen to place my plate on the sink and went outside to the backyard.
My grandparents lived in the outskirts of the town - Lolo Pidyo, Lola Umping and quite a few of their binatá. And so, as was customary in the provincia, the backyard had been planted with a variety of trees meant to provide self sufficiency to the house. There was even a rainwater collection system that irrigated the vegetable patch. Farther down was what could only be a fish pond.
From the window, earlier, I had seen Jun-Jun sitting on a coconut beneath the canopy of the mango tree.  Sometimes, some of my numerous patud who were not in their parents' good graces had to stay over until they were summoned for and welcomed back to the fold. Now that I had time to think about it, I was pretty much in the same boat.
He had said something earlier about tasting a mango when he got my attention long enough.
"Hey!" I said when he was within earshot.
"Hey yourself."
He had already pared several mangoes which he had arranged on a plate complete with shrimp paste. I could see he was still into that kind of thing.
"Do you enjoy doing that?" I asked. He was making the peel strip thinner and thinner.
He paused and checked the length strip had taken, "not really," he said, "but sometimes when you like something very much you have to destroy it so you can enjoy how sweet it is." And he demonstrated his point by beginning to eat. The sweet ripe smell of mango pervaded the air instantly. Then he held out the other half to me, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he did so.
"What a scary thought," I commented.
"What?" 
"Nothing," I said. I was having a hard time looking for something to wipe my hands with.
"Did you know that mangoes are related to the cashew?"
I held the fruit before me and inspected it. "I didn't.  But now I do. They do look alike I'll give you that one." I looked up at the tree. "It's only the other side that's bearing fruits now."
"Oh yeah, last time it was the other side."
"Quaint."
"We shouldn't question what nature gives us. It doesn't matter as long as it bears fruits."
He had always been such a philosopher.