Princess Mae

4

Neither Princess Mae nor Wilma Alcordo slept that night, the last night before the plane. Instead there was the making of many ripples from hearts cast upon two oceans, sundered and adrift. It was hours before the trike to school would arrive when Wilma woke them. Mitzy grumbled out of inconvenience and just rolled over where Mae had been, but the rest moved about the two rooms quietly at first. It had rained a little and damp air carried night smells through the tenement; sampaguita that grew in the neighbor's garden mixed with snippets of wet filth of Laguna de Bay and the remnants of last night's meal.

Ernesto, the eldest, stood in the middle of the room by her bag. Never a child, Ernesto was born encumbered with more responsibility than a son deserved and as such, now served as the masculine head of household. He was resolute and encouraging, firm about what must be done.  Setting aside emotion, he hugged Princess Mae and said she should be a good daughter and that he would always love her and they would see each other soon. Though they both knew this to be a lie.

For Leonardo it was different, as she was his closest sibling in age and spirit. It was Princess Mae who teased and understood him. It was she who showed him how to download anime on their mother's phone, which they would watch together. She set him up with his own Facebook account and he would comment on her posts with emoticons. Her departure was a bitter tonic. Groggy and apoplectic he sobbed on the stained couch as Princess and Wilma paced through their final measures. At times, Ernesto sat with him and hugged him, trying to shush and calm the situation. At one of these moments, Princess noticed a wayward tear on Ernesto's cheek. This sobbing of Leonardo brought Mitzy out from the other room.

"Leonardo, shut up! Just please shut up. She's going. Get used to it," Mitzy said coldly.

"It's you who should be quiet," Ernesto told Mitzy.

"He's gonna have to grow up." And then Mitzy pointed at Leonardo and said, "She's going.  She's leaving now and you better get used to it, you little devil."

"You're a devil and you're horrible. I wish it was you," Leonardo yelled.

"Shut up, you little brat. I wish it was me too. If only to get away from you, you little baby!"

Not wishing to make things worse, Wilma had tried to steer clear of the storm, but her own balloon of pain had become engorged and bursting was its natural state, "Mitzy, I cannot believe you are such an awful girl! Are you completely lacking of feelings? How could I have done such a terrible job in raising you? You're only sister is going now and this is what you do? You should pray to God for forgiveness, not only for this, but for the sinning you do at night."

"What are you talking about? You don't know anything about what I do at night and don't you even pretend. It's not me that needs forgiveness from God."

And it was an insinuation; one which cut through the mother as awful truths often do. But unlike the daughter, Wilma Alcordo did pray for forgiveness. Many times each day she prayed for the forgiveness of sin and for its redemption in the safety and happiness of the fruit it bore. Often, before the bus, she would stop in the church and pray alone solemnly for this  forgiveness;  though her greatest treasures in life were begotten of sin.

Before leaving Princess Mae took Leonardo in her arms and has never squeezed anyone as tight; not even Manoy had squeezed that much the night before under the dita tree. She told him he will always be her brother and she would talk to him on the Skype and they would still comment to each other on Facebook.  While they would not live in the same house, they could still be close because of this. She squeezed him so tightly and said he should squeeze her too, because it would have to last. Through his many tears he asked over and over for her to promise to come back, and each time she promised. She promised she would be back to see him before he was a man.