Waves and Spells

Havoc

I wake up early on March 9th to the sound of several Philippine Cockatoos and the smell of eggs frying and fresh Pandesal baking. My father must be cooking; my mother cannot cook as well as he can. I hear the rain pattering on my window, which means that the rain is lighter and today we will get to do more than we have gotten to do for the past few weeks. I rise from my slumber and head to the kitchen. I start heating water to make coffee, because who eats Pandesal without coffee?

"Good morning," my father says.
"Good morning," I reply while grinding the coffee beans. His grin makes me smile. He must have woken up earlier today because the weather is better and he wants to go fishing.

After eating the fresh food, drinking the rich coffee, and saying goodbye to my father, who is now on the fishing boat, ready to catch fish, I leave to help Ms. Yamka make food for her large family, taking a bottle containing coffee with me to serve to her family. Light shines on me from the morning sun as I continue to walk across the squeaking wooden boards on the dock.
"Belen, Belen!" little Amihan calls out to me, her small, calloused feet galloping across the boards to embrace me. James, Amihan's older brother, comes out to join her.

As I approach, Ms. Yamka apologies, "I'm sorry for their behavior. They haven't seen you for so long and they love when you come and cook. The rest of the children are inside. Akira is still sleeping, but she should be up soon. Thank you again for coming." The fluency of her English shows that she has spent quite a bit of time on the mainland.

My shoes are soon taken off and placed on the mat inside. The children race around the board house, showing me their rooms and the things that they have been working on. Laughter echoes throughout the house. Akira is soon drawn from her sleep by the many noises and aroma of Ms. Yamka's sweet champorado and my coffee. We heat up some fish tapa that her oldest son caught yesterday and place it along with the champorado on mismatched plates and in smooth bowls. Since I have already eaten, I stand by the washbasin, cleaning dishes when their use is over while listening to James and Amihan fill the room with laughter. After what felt like half a day, I grab my bottle, say goodbye to Ms. Yamka, and hug little Amihan as she pleads for me to stay.

As I head home, the sky gets darker and heavy clouds start to form. I don't pay them much mind, though. As I enter my house, my brother is coming out with his fishing equipment.
"Come fishing with me, manggugulo," my brother says. "Father has come back from fishing, but I want to fish so that we have more to sell. Father didn't catch much today." Although I am tired from my morning activities, I decide to join him. After we untie the boat, get in, and start heading into the water, I begin to feel raindrops on my skin like miniature capsules of cool water. We are about 60 yards away from my house when the wind picks up. The rain that was light earlier today starts to intensify.
"We should probably go back," I suggest.
"That sounds good," he replies. He starts to pack up the fishing equipment when the rain gets even heavier. It nearly pierces our skin with its sharpness.
"Belen, Hernando, come back now!" my mother yells from the dock, looking both angry and concerned and motioning with her hands for us to head in her direction.
"We're coming!" I yell, trying to help my brother with the equipment. We manage to get everything out of the water, but hail starts coming down. The wind continues to pick up and begins to rock the boat.
"We need to get back - now!" I yell to my brother. We try to row back, but it is hard to get the boat to head in the right direction with all of the rocking. I look around and see shaking trees and mangroves, stormy, dark clouds, and rickety houses. People in my tribe are running around, collecting goods and heading to the mainland. We finally begin to get closer to the dock when an extremely strong wind hits us and knocks my brother off of the boat.

"Hernando!" I scream, hoping that somebody can help me. Almost everyone is preoccupied with ensuring their own safety. I see my father untying a boat from the dock to come and help us, even though the waters are dangerous. If anyone can help us, it's him. He has been roaming these waters forever. I hold out a paddle for my brother to grasp, but the waves are taking him away from me. While doing this, I attempt to control the boat so that the same thing doesn't happen to me. What seems like a thousand memories of my brother surge into my mind. I cannot lose him. I continue to paddle over to where he is, but the boat is unsteady and my efforts are fruitless. Salty tears run down my already soaked cheeks and I begin to recite a prayer of hope that my mother taught me as a child.

"Love and hope prevails. Through all else it remains. To you, I pray for the future, for the safety of those I love, for the efficacy of my endeavors in your name..." I am interrupted by my father, who is shouting something that I cannot understand over the deafening sound of the wind. Whatever he is saying doesn't matter though because he is nearing with his boat and an outstretched paddle. He will save my brother. Within seconds, he throws the rope to my almost drowned brother and rescues him. He quickly pulls him into his boat and throws the rope to me so that we do not get separated. I catch it, hold on, and hold the boat so that it doesn't topple over. I yell to my brother while wiping tears off of my face. When we reach the dock and get out of the boats, my mother comes out, hugs us while crying, gives us cloths to put over our heads to protect us from the hail, and directs us to head to the mainland. My father quickly ties the boats to the dock and joins us. We briskly walk on the dock along with many others. I turn my head back and see board houses crumbling down; I think of Ms. Yamka and her six children and wonder where they are and if they are safe.