CONTENT WARNING

This chapter contains themes and profanity that may not be suitable for a very young audience.

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"Sir?"

Darkness consumed Danilo in an abyss. He sank deeper where no screams could be heard. He wanted to struggle, but his body couldn't move, paralyzed by the cold flow of water surrounding him. He drowned.

The lake. Had he jumped after all?

"Sir?" a man's muffled voice came, distant, calling for him to return.

This was not how Danilo imagined death would be. He thought there would be light to follow, leading him onto the other side. Not total darkness and a nudging on his shoulder.

When he opened his eyes, a man's face hovered over him. "Sir, wake up!"

"What?" Danilo touched his aching head. He wasn't dead after all.

"Sir, your two hours are already up. You need to leave." The man said, leaning back from him.

Danilo pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around the red room, remembering the sensation of a girl's ass in his hands. "Where's Isabel?"

"Your girlfriend left you. Sounded disappointed." The man squatted on the floor to pick up Danilo's pants and tossed them on his lap. "She said you got what you wanted, but she wasn't satisfied."

Danilo caught his pants and realized he was naked, and everything was hanging, drained, and slack. "Shit. I didn't make her cum." He palmed his face.

"Too bad. Now, get the fuck out." The man pointed at the door. "Or I'll get someone to throw your naked butt out into the cold street."

"Okay. Okay." Danilo climbed off the bed and put on his boxers and pants. He glanced at his cheap digital watch. "It's passed 2 a.m.?"

"Exactly, which is why you need to leave or pay extra."

Danilo hurried to put on his shoes and headed for the door. He didn't have any more money for an extra hour, regretting the sex that lasted maybe ten minutes, wasting the rest of the two hours he'd booked at this expensive motel.

He got out, still drunk, and wandered on the street, walking back to Harrison Road. There were no more jeepneys at this time, and he might not have enough money for a taxi. So where could he stay for the rest of the night? Where could he sleep?

The park was the first to come to his mind. He could go there and find a bench to sleep on. He would only have to avoid the lake area.

So, he made his way to the Rose Garden on the northwest side of the park, where roses and other flowering plants were grown. Nothing bloomed this time of the year, and the park wasn't as colorful as he expected.

No matter, he didn't come here for the flowers. All he needed was a bench. He found a small one and sat on it, not yet deciding to lie down.

The benches near the lake were longer. He'd slept there several times, stretching his length over the outdoor seating. If not for his dream, he would have gone there already.

Dream. He still thought that was what it was, the fear of its reality beginning to haunt him. And there was only one way for him to learn the truth.

He stood from the small bench and walked past a planter box of thorny bushes, making his way to the pathway that led to the lake. The eerie quiet hung in the air, only breaking when the wind blew, causing ripples on the dark surface of the water.

Danilo stopped, looking down at a large rock left in the middle of the pathway. A tingling sensation on his ankle itched. He had tried to kill himself last night.

Swallowing, he looked at his watch--2:59 a.m.

"Danilo?"

He turned at the voice and saw Dulnuan, faded and transparent. He stepped back. His dream was now confirmed to be reality.

A grin formed on Dulnuan's lips. "You came back."

"I did," he nodded, more surprised that he was here than she was.

"Thank you." her eyes became teary. "I thought I might never see you again."

"I thought so, too," he whispered.

"Would you like to sit down?" she asked, gesturing to a nearby bench.

Sit down? Oh, how Danilo would like to lie down. "Yes." He nodded. "Yes, I would."

She guided him to the bench, and they leisurely sat, taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the cold air. They faced the lake, watching its dark surface capture yellow light, shimmering reflections as if there was another world within.

"So, why did you come back?" Dulnuan asked.

"I guess I wanted to know if you were real," he answered, glancing at her and keeping a distance between them. He still wasn't used to talking to a see-through person.

"And now you know I am real," she said, turning her body to him and leaning her shoulder on the backrest.

"You're real," he repeated.

"What did you do today?" she asked.

Dread curled in Danilo's heart. What would she think if she found out he fought with his mother, been drinking all day, and had sex with a girl he'd only met hours ago? "Nothing much."

She tilted her head, assessing him. "How old are you?" she asked. "I think you may be twenty-three."

"Guess again." Danilo turned to face her.

"Twenty-four?" She squinted, trying hard to read his face.

"Twenty-five," he answered. "You?"

"Twenty when I passed," she said. "But by now, I would be over one hundred and thirty years old."

Danilo whistled, trying to imagine living that long--in her case, being a spirit and wandering the earth for that long. "You were alive more than a hundred years ago."

She nodded, smiling. "I lived in years when the Spaniards left and the Americans came."

He stared. He didn't know much about their history. When he was in high school, he thought it wasn't an important matter to learn. What would he use history for? He guessed it would have come in handy now in this conversation.

Dulnuan continued. "I remember when they came here in 1899. Their skins were pale. I thought they were gods. We fell in love with them. The idea of them and their promises."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "With the money they bring to our country as tourists, they may as well be gods."

"They came with those too. Papers for trading. So did the Spaniards. At first, I did not understand why this paper they called money was so valuable. It cannot be eaten. It cannot be worn." The wind blew on her face, pushing it aside to reveal the gold hoop hanging at the tip of her ear.

"Yes, well, money is the most valuable thing today, not just with the foreigners." His eyes lingered on the shiny earring, thinking gold was precious too.

"They also came with weapons. They were hunting Emilio Aguinaldo, you know."

"The first president?" He raised his chin to her.

"Yes, Emilio did not pass here, though. They mostly took routes in the lowlands until they reached Ilocos Sur." Her head bobbed to confirm.

Danilo's eyes widened, realizing she was sharing a famous story from the Philippines' history. "The Battle of Tirad Pass. You were alive during that time?"

Dulnuan smiled, pleased at his interest. "I was. But I only heard stories of what happened during that time. It was not as heroic as everyone thought."

"Why is that?"

"Over fifty Filipinos died to protect Emilio's escape from the Americans. They only killed two of the foreigners. How is that heroic?"

"Have you ever seen the movie 300?" What a stupid thing to ask. Danilo almost smacked his face. How would a spirit who lived a hundred years ago have watched a movie in the twenty-first century?

Dulnuan only stared, but her smile did not fade.

"Sorry," he said. "Keep going."

"Death is not beautiful. It is brutal." She turned to watch the lake. "When you are in a fight, you have to make sure you are the one killing, not the one killed."

"Have you killed any Americans during your time?" he asked, wondering what kind of brutality she had gone through.

"No, not Americans. Not the whites. But I have beheaded plenty from other tribes." Dulnuan turned back to him, and he wanted to scoot farther away on the bench, but the edge didn't allow him to. "It was my duty as the chieftain's wife to show strength."

"You were a chieftain's wife? A queen?"

Dulnuan's smile grew, reaching her eyes. She looked young and innocent, more like a princess than a warrior queen. "Yes, I was. I had entertained the white men when they came to our tribe. I showed them our valley." She gestured widely at the park.

"You're tribe was here?" Danilo looked around, imagining what everything had looked like when the park wasn't built yet.

"My home was here. Baguio was Kafagway before. It means wide or open space."

"Kafagway," he repeated, never knowing the city had a native name.

Dulnuan nodded. "The Americans called these lands Baguio from the word bagiw. They are the mosses usually found on the trunks of the pine trees." She pointed at a nearby tree.

"Mmmh... I think I prefer Kafagway better. Wide open space." He looked around the dark again.

She huffed, turning and resting her back on the bench. "Well, they came here and changed many things. And they also took. They expanded to the mountains, digging for gold."

"Yeah, the mines." He glanced at her ear, looking for the hoop earring, but her hair had fallen over it, hiding the precious metal.

There were plenty of mining sites in the mountainous regions surrounding Baguio City, both abandoned and active. The most successful one was in Philex Mines, about thirty kilometers away. Danilo had thought of going there for work once, but his brother didn't allow him to, saying it was too far and dangerous. He was only seventeen at the time.

"We have a lot of gold in this country, don't we? But we are as poor as fuck." Danilo pitied himself, grinding his teeth at his now almost empty pockets. He looked down at his shoes, caked with dried mud, regretting his earlier decision to throw out all the money his friend had lent him into a few minutes of pleasure.

"Not all of us," Dulnuan said, and Danilo looked up at her. "My family was smart. We took some of the gold they were stealing from our lands and hid it."

Danilo's eyes widened. "You have gold?"

She nodded. "When my father died, I inherited some of it. I have twelve siblings. The men in the family received bigger shares, of course. I was given the least because I was the wife of the chieftain. They told me his riches were mine, so I did not need my father's gold. But he had loved me and given me a full chest as a gift."

"A chest full of gold?" Danilo's heart fattened at the thought. Something like that could help him out of his situation. It could save him from his miserable life. "Where is it now?"

"Hidden," she answered.

"Hidden where?" he blurted, sounding eager.

Dulnuan parted her lips to answer, but before she could, she turned, looking over her shoulder. "I have to go," she whispered.

No, she had to tell him where the gold was. "But--"

She turned to him, standing up from the bench. "I am glad you came back. And I am grateful for this conversation."

"Wait," he also stood, reaching for her wrist, but his hand only passed through her, forgetting how it worked with spirits.

Dulnuan waited, expectantly staring.

"I'll come back tomorrow night," he said, making her smile. "Will I see you then?"

With excitement lighting her face, she grinned. "I will look for you then." Her eyes glistened with happiness.

He glanced at the bow of her lips, feeling the need to kiss her as if they were saying goodbye after a romantic date. His heart was now craving her--his hope. Her and her gold.

"Thank you, Danilo." She turned, and like the night before, she faded into the dark.

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☠ Glossary:

Bagiw: Bagiw is an Ibaloi (dialect of the Igorots) term meaning moss. 

☠ Fun Fact:

The history of the Philippines shared in this chapter are based on historical records. 

The Battle of Tirad Pass is a prominent part of the Philippines' history, telling the story of the Boy General, Gregorio del Pilar, who defended the retreat and escape of the first president, Emilio Aguinaldo, from the Americans. 52 out of 60 Filipinos died fighting for the country.

Kafagway is the native name of Baguio City. Most historical records suggest it was the Americans who named it after bagiw. Some records show it was the Spaniards.

The first mining company in the Philippines was established by the Americans in Benguet, the mountainous province where Baguio City is situated. 

The Philippines is one of the top producers of gold in the world, ranking 24th in 2022.

Photo of the Filipinos who fought and died in The Battle of Tirad Pass.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Tirad_Pass