Lolo Siso was not the typical doting grandfather. He had a peculiar notion of how his grandchildren should be. If there was anything he would deem unconscionable in his grandchildren it was cowardice. He would, at any opportunity, test our courage. I was among the few whose courage remained untested by Lolo, which was all right because I would have conceded my being a coward at the onset. 

My grand parent’s estate was notorious for being inhabited by all sorts of malignant spirits who sprang to life at the fading of daylight. On a typical early evening my brothers, Dado, Pete and I together with my cousin Delfin were seated in the sala listening to a radio serial called Principe Amante when my grandfather strode into the room and called out my cousin’s name. Delfin promptly got up to meet him. He ordered him to get some banana leaves for my grandmother who was going to prepare rice cakes and other delicacies that would need the leaves as wrappers.

Grandfather gave some vague reason why the banana leaves should come specifically from a grove at the edge of the property. The area that he specified was in a bamboo cluster where, only the week before, it was rumored that a boy who strayed inside the property saw elves being chased by a “capre”, a giant man-horse creature who lived in the hollow of the old “Balete” tree  which was just a sprint away from the banana grove. My grandfather knew that my cousin, who was about thirteen at that time, was the least fearful of the place since he stayed with my grandmother most of the time and was used to going into the interior of the estate even in the dark. I guess he wanted to find out how tough he really was.

My cousin went off dutifully. He passed through the kitchen where he dallied a while and took something from the cords of wood in the big wooden stand for the earthen stoves. It was an old and worn out horsewhip that Emong Kabayo, a “karetela” driver gave him earlier that day. At almost the same time my grandfather went hurriedly down the front steps of the house and disappeared in the darkening shadows of the Pomelo tree fronting the azotea.  

Cousin Delfin could hardly see the banana trees in the dark but his mind was conjuring the presence of crepuscular creatures that were creeping and clinging to his pants and others hovering, buzzing at his head level. There was a bit of high wind and the swaying of the leaves in the dark gave out a familiar silhouette that he readily recognized as banana leaves. As he was gathering his errand frond by frond he heard an eerie sound coming from the banana trees on the left side of a cluster of bamboos. It was the sound of a woman’s plaintive cry. The cry was earnest and heart rending but its shrillness gave it an otherworldly tone that even he, the bravest of the cousins, was terrified by it.  He put down the pile of banana leaves and pulled out the horsewhip tucked in his belt and rushed towards the banana grove and lashed out at the swaying shadowy figures which by now had become less recognizable because darkness had completely set in. He heard a stifled yelp coming from where he had vigorously struck and then silence. The wind momentarily died down and all he heard were fading footfalls on dry leaves. He gathered the banana leaves from the ground and hurriedly ran back to the house.  

Grandfather returned home very late that evening. I got up early the following morning. I saw him all alone at the long molave dining table having his usual cup of coffee and toasted “pan de sal”. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt that he seldom wore except for weddings and funerals. I asked him if he was going to some important appointment that he had to dress up for. He grunted a yes and seeming not to want to pursue the conversation further he finished the still steaming cup of coffee, rose from the table and left in a huff. What was conspicuous was the way he kept massaging his left arm. The unbuttoned sleeved bared what looked like red welts embossed on the whiteness of the skin. He continued to rub his arm throughout his morning repast and up to the time he moved towards the door going out of the house. 

There was another incident with Lolo testing once more the courage of his grand children that ended up with sorry results.

During the war there was a nipa hut that was built adjacent to the main house. This was used primarily to store palay grains and other provisions. At that time my grandmother had visiting relatives and we could not all fit in the main house so the upper part of the hut was used as a sleeping place. That night my sister Patty slept in the hut with Nita, our eldest sister and Tia Luz, mother’s youngest sister. She woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a loud rapping on the sawali wall. Outside she could hear the wild and tormented howling of a creature similar to the screaming banshee of lore.  Patty got so scared that she peed in her pants. The floor of the nipa hut was made of bamboo slats and underneath, at ground level a sack of “palay”, or unhusked rice grains was exactly below where Patty peed. The whole sack was soaked.

Normally we would have thrown away the whole sack. It was wartime and each grain of palay in that sack was precious. The next morning they had to spread the “palay” to dry to make it edible albeit smelling differently. My Lola knew intuitively that it was my Lolo who made the howling and the rapping noise on the sawali wall of the hut. He could not contain his amusement about the incident and had to confess his little caper to Lola who all the while was looking at him in disapproving askance. She had suspected from the start that he was up to his mischievous pranks once more.(3/15/2008)