The Rich Yaya

The First (Terrible) Encounter

I have always hated the dark. Hated the gloom and loneliness... and fear it brings. And I hated it more to realize that I was standing in front of a strange unlighted room with a stranger, not knowing what lies behind the door.

"Kung gusto mo, pwede ka pang umayaw," the uniformed maid, about sixty years old or more, who met me at the gate told me. She sounded nonchalant and indifferent, and somehow, she seemed to know my fear. "Hindi mo rin naman magugustuhan ang magiging trabaho mo," she said in apathetic and almost inaudible way. Something inside told me that she was so sure about what she said.

I decided not to say anything for the fear of stammering. Or maybe I was just terrified to know that I was about to enter darkness.

She motioned herself to the knob and slowly opened the door.

The cracking sound gave me chills. My heart hammerred, my breathing became disturbed, my feet wanted to runaway. But I knew I couldn't turn back. There was no way out.

The door opened and if not for the lights outside, I could have been eaten by the dark.

I had to take a moment to notice a woman sitting on a bed. And I found it creepy that she was carrying a baby in her arms.

"Narito na po ang bagong aplikante, Madam."

It took me three gulps to say a word. "Magandang hapon po." I tried to hide my fears in indifference.

"Pwede mo na kaming iwan," she said, my words seemingly unnoticed.

The door closed and the only thing left was darkness and the sound of the rain pouring outside.

"Natatakot ka ba sa'kin?" came the cold question.

I heaved a sigh and talked directly. "Hindi po. Hindi lang ako sanay sa dilim."

Then a sudden flash from a television came. And it had light in the room.

She shifted the channel to a news network where the president's proclamation of Martial Law in Mindanao was being covered. Marawi City was under the attack of a terrorist group.

I turned to the old woman and saw more clearly her face. She had long gray hair, her face pale, her wrinkles visible. She was thin and her skin was beginning to crease.

I turned to the baby and found myself astonished. I had to blink my eyes many times to see if I wasn't just hallucinating.

"Imposible," I mumbled. My eyes widened when I realized that I wasn't just hallucinating.

"Anong grade ang natapos mo, Hija?" she asked, sounding as though she didn't notice my reaction.

"G-Grade one po," I answered, still surprised; still minding that I had to lie about myself.

"Kung ganun, magsisimula ka bukas."

I gulped, looked at the baby and gulped again.

I couldn't imagine myself looking after a baby... Having one body. And two heads.