Amihan del Rosario (Story)

Written by Amihan del Rosario for character development of Amihan del Rosario

Salt tinging the air and sand between your toes. Long, black hair billowing down in waves, kissed warm by the island sun and combed into ribbons by the wind. Chipped seashells with rough edges battered by rocks. The pink shell that you slip into your pocket as your personal treasure.

Chasing your father at dawn, tailing the swaying motion of the fishing rod on his shoulder. ‘Shouldn’t you help your mama look after Gilda and Efren?’ His large hand clasped securely around yours, his weathered palm a familiar roughness that shelters you from—

Cracks of thunder and piercing shrieks. Earthen voids in which you lay the men down to rest. Your mother’s huddled silhouette, shrunken down and hiding as she submits herself and her family to the service of a wealthy Spanish man whose dark eyes always linger on you and you alone.

Braiding red thread into cords on which you slide cowrie shells in sets of three. Above, three stars marking the line that holds Orion’s belt. Efren’s explosive laugh and Gilda’s seabreeze snickers as they kick a ball back and forth on the beach. You are each a star, tracing your own line over the earth and sea, no matter how far apart—a constellation of just you three.

A constellation that stretches far apart as you jump on the Spanish vessel and flee from home. Chop your hair short and forgo your skirts. Keep your head down low and force your voice even lower. They’ll only respect you if you remember your place. Dance across the rocking of a ship as your dry hands learn to handle ropes and tools instead of mops, rags, and brooms. Feel the bitterness of your native accent mixed with a foreign tongue. The stars are your worth. The stars make you worth keeping.

Cracks of thunder and booming roars. The haphazard tilting of the ship as the deck becomes slick with rainwater. Feet pounding desperately against the wood as you run, chasing after each breath as you flee the hand that tries to take you. A misstep. A sway. A missing ship as you’re suddenly suspended in the air and then suddenly let go. A pair of wide eyes just above yours—one a silver blue of ocean mist and the other as dark as the charcoal plumes behind him. ‘Anong pangalan mo? What’s your name?’ The stars out of sight and water tumbling down upon you as the storm goes mute. ‘Bei ke….’

Back to the sand as you lie with the man who stole you from your crew. A strange yet pleasant stillness that comes with slowed time. The blanket of stars stretching above as you point to Orion, tracing his belt in the sky. Follow his finger as he shows you the Azure Dragon, like the one tattooed across his neck and collarbone. Linger on its heart. Feel how a warmth pools in your own. ‘Within that azure dragon that you traced in the sky that night, I give you its heart, just as I have given you mine.’

A small box lined with tiny seashells, holding dried flowers with snowy petals pressed flat, bearing the secret that you once gave to him. Long to hear your name from his lips. ‘Just once. Call me Jasmine just once—’

A collar etched out of promises to the sky above and the sea all around—a promise to return to the bird’s cage if only to set them free. A collar of promises inked in dark blue around your neck. The same pattern of undulating waves soon traced around his neck, too. Always in the sea do you two meet.

Rings of bronze wound around not your necks, but your fingers—yours and his. Two British pence melted down and changed to hold a different kind of promise—a willing bond. Two eyes as bright as the ocean mist lingering on you and you alone. He’s by your side, and it’s time to go home. ‘Someday, jasmine flowers will bloom.’