Love Me, like the Old Times

Chapter 3: Stranger at the Park

I woke up from the sudden sound of the rooster outside the house. I looked through my window and realized that it's almost sunrise. I slowly blow my night candle out before rising up from my bed.

It's my first day at our new house. I could not believe that we have arrived already. We have travelled far from Spain. A total of 90 days as per my counting.

I really wondered how my new school would be like. Would I be able to see that boy who saved me yesterday? I really hoped so.

I went to my own bathroom, took a bath and prepared myself for breakfast.

Coming out from my room. I was awed by how huge our new house is. Everything is lit by lamps every corner of the room.

When you enter our house, you will be greeted by a big space, a ballroom for parties and gatherings with a tall grand staircase facing the door at the end of the room. With spanish touch all over it.

My room is at the second floor at the right wing, while the master's bedroom is at the left. The other rooms were at the first floor intended for guests.

I was really happy that my mother gaved me the room with the balcony coz she knows how I loved to read and sight see.

Stepping down at our stairs I saw stranger's unpacking our things ang hanging our family portrait and paintings through out the entire ballroom. They must be our new house keepers.

"Good morning". I said with a tone of respect to those unfamiliar faces as I pass through them.

They smiled and nodded at me while they proceeded to their work.

I make my way to our kitchen which was also really spacious. We have a long table, which really gave no point for me since we were only three in the family, I am an only child and my father is barely around.

Maybe it's for when we have company.

I saw my mother cooking breakfast for us. I tiptoed towards her and tried to make a prank.

"Don't even try that with me Iha". She spoke calmly while I was dumbfounded by her knowing my intention.

"What? I'm not doing anything" I denied while looking innocent.

"Help me, will you? I know you like this". She says showing me the plate with the food she prepared.

We both ate our breakfast and talked about our plans for the day. My father always never ate breakfast with us. He always go out for work every morning same when we were at Spain.

My mother always made us breakfast eventhough we have maids to prepare it for us. I loved her more for that.

I comb my hair and prepared myself. My mother and I made plans to tour the town and get to know our neighbors.

I wore a white dress styled with embroidered roses, it covered my legs to the calves. It is very conservative, just the same with all of my other dresses in my wardrobe. This has been the style of every girl in Spain.

I wore a skinned tone stocking underneath the dress and grabbed my hat as I went out.

My mother was already waiting for me at the front with her right hand holding an umbrella and the left with a fan, looking so beautiful with her yellow silk dress.

All our dresses has the same length, it always covers our knees and our shoulders. This is the required, appropriate dress everybody claimed. If you will be seen defying this rule. People will gossip about you being a bimbo or a wild girl. A disgrace that nobody will be willing to marry.

With my father's position, I never dared to unfollow the rules. I will be a laughing stock of our family or worst, my father might disown me.

As we walked out of our property. Our neighbors were staring at us while my mother gave them a wave or a smile. They must be really intrigued about the new owners of the mansion.

We then walked into the path where the coconuts lined up. I saw my father busy talking to one of the farmers. He met our gaze and waved at us. My mother signalled him that we will stroll around town. I saw him smile and continued his business with the farmers.

We reached the town and my feet were already hurting from our walk. I told my mother if we could rest in a nearby park.

As we sat down to the bench. I studied all of the busy street just near the park. Horses with carraiges running around, people walking and children running. It's really a busy day.

I was about to turn my head to watch the park, then I was met by a sudden object and hit my face.

"Ahhhh!" I screamed and held my face to ease the pain.

My mother then turned her attention towards me.

"Iha! What happened?" she said with worry while searching for cuts through my face.

Someone jogged towards us.

"I'm so sorry." the stranger spoke.

I jolted my head towards the one who caused this accident and I was met with worried brown eyes.

He was leaning and looking at me with sadness in his eyes. He was as tall as me, with a muscular physics just like an athlete. With white polo rolled to his elbow and black pants rolled towards his knees. He was standing with his bare feet. His hair was a little messy but it didn't affect his handsome face. His skin was tanned and I blushed when my senses took over me that I was checking this boy inside my head.

He picked up the ball that hit me. It was a weird ball that looks like vines lined up and rolled up to make a ball.

"What's that?" I asked out of curiousity.

He was taken aback by my response. I saw with my peripheral vision that my mother was too.

"This is called a Takraw ball. Made of rattan. We were playing kick volleyball." he answered while scratching the back of his head, still confused of my sudden question.

"I'm really sorry of what happened, I did not mean to hit you with this ball." he defended himself through my silence.

"It's fine, but I think this will bruise." I touched my face and I winced when I felt pain.

"Let's put on some warm medicinal herbs on that shall we?" my mother suggested, eyeing me to tell her later about my sudden reaction towards the boy.

"Oh, I'll get it for you." the boy smiled while he jogged towards his team and disappear.

Could this day be more unfortunate? It's seems bad luck keeps following me since day one.

But I think I don't mind.

.....................................................................
Credit to the owner of the picture. I wished I could show you more about what I have imagined.

Everything in this story portrays how conservative the Filipino culture is, greatly influenced by the Spanish people during there colonization.

Please leave a comment and vote!