Amor Eterno: A Historical Fantasy Romance, page 2
Yet his focus was solely on his drawing. No amount of teasing cupcakes or cookies could divert his attention away. His hands were smudged and sullied with charcoal and his own sweat, but he wasn’t stopping.
Three circles aligned each other. The one in the front was larger and had more shadowy parts. It was exactly what he saw in his dream. Things in his dream changed a lot, though sometimes they repeated. He had seen these circles quite a few times already, and it filled the pages of his drawing book. These circles always came after a nice dream, disrupting beautiful memories of his childhood or even anything that was just beautiful, and turned them into a nightmare.
After he finished his drawing, he was calmer. He instantly kept his drawing stuff in his bag and started checking a few documents from a white envelope. He began reading the document with a title head “Last Will and Testament.” Several pictures of an old house were revealed as he scanned the pages.
He was going back to his grandpa’s home. It took him sixteen years to return. But this occasion was not something he would have done if he had a choice. He was not that seven-year-old kid anymore.
When he was more relaxed, he turned to the tranquil scenery outside his window. He saw what he didn’t expect to see. Three vague rings in formation shocked him. They were as big as the bright moon but indistinct as mist.
“Please turn to your windows,” a flight attendant started speaking over the microphone. “You will see a rare phenomenon that happens only once in a hundred years. Outside, you will see the planets Jupiter, Mercury, and Venus. Normally, they just appear as tiny dots like stars. Today is quite an exception. It is believed that this spectacle will last for a week or two. Please enjoy this exciting celestial display!”
***
“Is this it?” inquired Xander with an eyebrow raised as he came out of the car.
A big stone house with grubby white walls and red roof stood alone in a wide land. Some wide green plants and tall trees could be seen a few distances away from the house. Large checkered windows surrounded the upper floor. The window sashes were decorated with capiz shell panes and could be opened wide on broad daylight and peaceful nights for the cool breeze, and closed down if storms came. There were also vents that were protected by roof eaves above the large windows that let in fresh air during rainy days. Ventanillas, small windows below the larger ones, were also noticeable. A huge portico with stone columns greeted the entrance. The door, wide as the length of two horses combined, slid from one side to the other.
“It looks different from the photos,” he added.
“The pictures are personal belongings of your grandfather. They were taken in the 1920s. He wanted you to see the house how he had seen it before,” replied the lawyer, Atty. Tan.
“That old man!” he snapped. He marched toward the wide entrance. It appeared so creepy that he already made up his mind about his very brief stay. “I can’t wait to sell this property, then I could go back to Japan to do my own thing!” he exclaimed as he set foot at the tiled floor of the portico.
“But you cannot sell this place until you meet all the conditions in his will. You must know that. For you will not inherit a single cent,” countered the lawyer.
“Then make this thing easier for me, Atty. Tan,” Xander said confidently. “I have no time for this bullshit!”
“I wonder if you have read all the provisions in his will,” marveled Atty. Tan.
“It’s your job! Just tell me what is in there and what is advantageous for me!” His face flared with annoyance and he stormed inside.
The inside of the house was astonishingly large compared to what his limited imagination had offered. The foyer had polished mahogany walls that were carved with miniscule patterns of tree branches and veins. There were columns with arches attached to the high ceiling. The furniture was well polished and seemed to have been well taken care of for years. There was a grand staircase made of wood that led to the upper level. Rows of candlesticks lined the stairs.
He began to wonder if the place still didn’t have electricity because of the presence of fresh candles. The first thing he did before he continued examining the entire hallway was to look for electrical wirings.
“Did this place even recover from ancient civilization?” he kidded.
“There is electricity here, sir although power shortage does happen in unlikely circumstances.”
He did not fully grasp the meaning behind the spine-chilling sensation that bothered him. He felt it first when he passed through the doorway. It was like eyes were following his every move like the walls had ears, and the staircase had some magnet that compelled him to go upstairs. It was not just the dullness or the lack of life that made it look sinister. Unexplainable strangeness was the best way to describe it.
“I’m not living alone here, am I?” He sounded funny as he directed his gaze to one majestic portrait that hung on top of the staircase.
It was a picture of a man in a blue officer uniform. His austere look and the badges on his uniform made Xander believe that the man could have been a very important person during his lifetime.
“No, you will not. The cook, Manang Leticia, will be with you in the morning till late afternoon. And the caretaker, Ayang, will be here 24/7. She lives at the small space at the back of the house, which used to be the zaguan in the old times,” answered the lawyer as he silently followed Xander’s pace.
In his mind, the lawyer was celebrating Xander’s discreet fear, which was way beyond everyone’s knowledge. People close to Xander knew him to be daring and most certainly unafraid of old houses, yet Atty. Tan did not dare assert his observation.
Xander chuckled upon hearing the strange word zaguan. He remembered how he used to play there with his grandpa’s old carriage and carts. Now, it had turned into a simple space for the caretaker. He recalled his indifferent encounters with Ayang.
She was never a friendly woman. He thought.
He never really had the chance to talk to her though. She always gave him the creeps, and she looked so stern and ugly. But his grandpa seemed to like this woman so much. He was the only person whom he knew who fostered a pleasant relationship with the eerie Ayang.
Now, that he was a lot older, he was certain that Ayang grew colder and stricter. It is a fact that older adults get crankier and more sensitive as they age. Moreover, it would be nice if Ayang just worked around the house discreetly. After all, she would have the house back in two weeks or so and would have a new master by then.
“Do you want me to summon them, sir?”
“No!” he answered quickly. He did not want to see Ayang at the moment. He thought of just going to his room and have the rest of the day for sleeping.
“Well, then! Do you want me to give you a tour?”
“No, I can do it alone. I still remember my way around here,” he sharply said after surveying the upper floor.
The receiving room was surrounded by several bedrooms. The kitchen and dining room were a few distances apart. The living room had wooden settees and a rectangular table in the middle. The floor was carpeted, and the walls had portraits and tapestries. Fresh plants in gigantic pots guarded the doors that surround the sala or the living room. But the thing that captured his attention was the old piano set covered with a mantelpiece. Tall bronze candlesticks were laid on top of it with new black candles. The sala didn’t change a bit since his last visit. Everything was where they should be.
Atty. Tan nodded. He was pleased with Xander’s decision. “Just give me a call when you have queries. I’ll inform you as soon as I have found potential buyers.”
“Alright!” He snobbishly left the lawyer at the end of the stairs.
Atty. Tan unhesitatingly marched his way out of the house. Spending time with Xander was comparable to lifetime imprisonment. They both shared the same sentiments. Neither of the two liked each other. If Xander was just too excited to sell the house and head back to Japan in no time, then he was no different. He would gladly do the job for his advantage.
Xander headed to the room, which used to be his the last time he was here. He could have easily acquired the master’s bedroom, but he preferred a haven, not a place where he would be constantly reminded of his unfeeling grandfather.
The room was made. Ayang very well knew that Xander would always choose dime over gold. The bed sheets were fresh and clean. The curtains were neat and fragrant. He laid his bag on the side table and hurried to the bed for a good sleep. He thought of waking up by the time dinner was served. He was pretty confident that Manang Leticia would not forget that he was here.
He slowly closed his eyes, and enjoyed the cool breeze of the wind. Things that he loved about the province were the fresh air, the clean water, and the bright sun in the country compared to what the bustling Manila had.
The stillness was inviting him to deep sleep. The soft mattress seemed to be pulling him down to the abyss of calmness, and the blankets wrapped his entire body like a cocoon to a caterpillar.
He was just so exhausted, but a lot of things were going on in his mind, yet they were not troubling him at all. Instead, excitement surged through him. He just could not wait for tomorrow. He thought of painting nature or anything extraordinary that amazes his sight. He also wished to take pictures of the old houses in the area and include them in his portfolio.
Art had been his constant passion in the twenty-three years of his life. He attained an art degree at a university in Japan and then worked as a professional photographer and painter. He had built his little museum when he was twenty-one, with the help of his family’s fortune. He was quite popular in his field.
His parents died in a car accident when he was five. Since then, he was taken in by his Japanese grandparents.
His paternal grandpa, the one who owned this ancient house in Barrio Makinlang in the province of Quezon, did not even try to reach out. It was one of the few reasons he didn’t like him. Even though the lifestyle in Japan was more convenient for him, he still wished to live in the Philippines because of the several good things he heard from his dad. He could have forgiven his grandpa if he only showed interest in taking him in.
He only heard from him once, and that was when he was sick and afraid of dying. The old man called and invited him for a few weeks’ stay. When he got well, he was automatically sent back to Japan. Just like that.
Xander did not just hate his grandpa’s lack of care but his unusual and unhealthy habits as well. He was an avid fan of gambling. He played cards and cockfights with his neighbors. He’d also drink palm wine or tuba almost every day while smoking a stick of tobacco.
However, he heard great accounts from Atty. Tan about his grandpa’s kindness toward the people whom he had helped. They were his poor neighbors and farmer tenants. He would let his neighbors borrow money without even making a list. Xander always wondered how his grandpa recovered his money, or perhaps he never asked them back. Perhaps, it was one of the good traits people admired about him.
Despite his indifference with his grandpa, he never questioned his good relations with the people around him. How he wished he had experienced it firsthand!
Sleep did not come to him, despite the temptations the ambiance gave him. He tried to, but his excitement and thoughts were just too hard to ignore. Then the strange incident during his flight to Manila came to mind. He recalled the three rings that his eyes had clearly seen outside his window. They looked just like the three circles in his dream.
It was not just a coincidence, was it?
Jupiter.
Mercury.
Venus.
What did these planets have to do with his dream and to him?
His head ached as he forced his mind to clear. These dreams were not helping him at all. They were just so many of them, and they seemed to get more bothersome each day.
He rose from his bed, reached for his bag, and took his photobook. He thought that the pictures could help him calm his nerves. They were, after all, his comfort blanket next to his sketch pad. As he browsed the pages, he began to miss the little village in the countryside of Japan where he grew up. He imagined himself walking at the cold streets of the village, taking pictures of old temples and old houses.
Oh, how he missed the tenderness and charm of the little colorful leaves, koyo, as they dropped to the ground to create a canopy. The soft sound of the flowing river along the bank always enticed him to stop for a while and watch the reflection of the setting sun.
Autumn is finally there, he thought.
The old temples and shrines in the photos were his favorite spots to sneak a photo of. They were just enigmatic and beautiful. Every time he went there, he felt that a part of him was made complete. There were no specific reasons he could point out to explain this odd fondness over temples. He just liked them. He always thought that it could be because of the calmness and peace it brought him.
He reached for his pencil and started drawing his home—the shrine where he lived all his life. He was taken in by his grandparents to live with them in the countryside of Honshu, a peace-loving town up the mountain. His grandparents had been living in the old temple for the longest time and owned a Shinto shrine, which they inherited from their ancestors.
The shrine was erected near a mountain peak that supplied water to the plains and valleys of the low lands. His grandfather, Hiroko, kept the shrine attended for decades, although it no longer housed a sacred object or a shintai. Despite its absence, the shrine kept its reputed sacredness through the ruins that remained after centuries of natural and man-made disasters.
He drew the torii or the Shinto gate first. The gate was made of two wooden pillars united by a tie beam and a lintel that spanned the space between two pillars. There were stone stairs that led to the sando or the approach or pathway to the shrine. The sando was bordered with toros or stone lanterns that are lit with flames at night.
The toro’s structure represented the elements of the universe. The bottom part was the chi or the earth. Above it was the sui or water. The section that encased the lantern’s fire was the ka, and the topmost parts that point toward the sky represented the fu or air and ku or spirit.
There was a small roofed area where people cleansed themselves before entering the shrine, though rarely used at present as the number of worshippers and visitors declined. Small auxiliary shrines spread all over the area. Statues of lion-dogs called komainu were erected at the doorway of the haiden or the hall of worship and were believed to be the guardians of the shrine.
Behind the haiden was the honden or the main hall that kept the shintai which enshrined the kami or a god. But Hiroki’s shrine no longer had the shintai. It was lost a long, long time ago after his early ancestors inherited the shrine from the imperial family. It had become a shrine by architecture and not by essence anymore.
There was nothing that could beat the peace of mind that he got whenever he was in the shrine. He loved the shrine because of its mystery. He loved it for the serenity it gave him. He loved it for everything, except for the people who made his life miserable when he was growing up—the village people.
While looking for his sharpener in his bag, his grasp loosened and the bag fell off the floor, and let slip its contents: a few gadgets, some books, the envelope that contained his grandpa’s last will and testament, and a few personal things. He picked them up one by one when a box sloppily covered with brown paper caught his eye.
He had almost forgotten about it.
He carefully laid it in front of him and opened it, starting with the sides. He was surprised to know that his grandfather was a quixotic man who loved to keep uncanny treasures. Sure, he was old and cranky, but Xander never thought he would be melodramatic.
The box revealed a medium-sized leather book that looked like fire almost engulfed it. Its cover looked fragile and old, and its carvings almost deteriorated. Time had aged it, and fire almost destroyed it. In the middle of the jacket was a small stone, the size of a cherry tomato and black as charcoal.
He tried to pull it out once after curiosity won him over, but he failed. It seemed that the stone was strongly glued to the book. However, the key lock just below the stone made him think of the possibility of having it removed with the use of the right key. He just had to find it.
Along with the book was a Victorian pen. It looked worn out with its blackened surface. The fire must have destroyed it too, and Xander started marveling why his grandpa left such useless and odd objects to him.
Did he ever think of how they were going to benefit him? An old book with a useless pen? Did he want him to be a writer? Did he want him to be a secret overdramatic man like him? He just had no idea what to do with them.
Chapter 2
The Caretaker
Heartbreaking music filled his ears. It took him several seconds to recognize what it was and where it came from. It sounded so sad and piercing, yet it was as good as a lullaby. Its misery went on for over a minute until it knocked him to sleep completely, and then it began to fade slowly. He wanted more of it, strangely, but it was dying out inevitably.
As soon as he opened his eyes, Ayang’s large ones flabbergasted him. He almost had a heart attack. He covered his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. He did not imagine seeing her this way. He opened his eyes to look for the source of the strange music, but what he got was Ayang’s piercing glare.
They stared at each other for quite a while. She stood just a few feet away from him. He wondered whether he should greet her good morning or ask her about her sleep. His voice would not come out, so he chose to wait for her to say something first. But, as aloof as he knew her to be, Ayang did not even bother to utter a word, or even sigh at the very least. She, in her old plain baro’t saya, which he had always seen her wear since time immemorial, looked away and started putting out the yellow candles inside his room.
