An excerpt from Project 56 - 'sanctuary'

Sep 16, 2009 12:53


Because I haven't written anything decent in a long time. Because I suddenly realized that, hey, I had started on another writing project long long long long ago! Because I need to get into writing again. Because I am overworked and need some form of release (yes, the irony is not lost on me.) Because Flower-boy is in this chapter. Because. Because.

==========

“I told you not to go near them! I asked you to stay away!! I begged you!”

“I did not mean it, love…forgive me, please…I can make it right…I can try to - ”

“NO! Do not touch them!! They are dead, do you understand?! You cannot bring them back!”

She could still hear the shouting in the back of her head. And she remembered, vaguely, most of what had happened next. She remembered Mama, with her endless silver tresses and flowing white gown, her gentle hands that glowed with an inner light. She could still see in her mind how her bright eyes, blue as the sky and always so gentle, were suddenly shooting sparks. At that moment she realized that she was afraid of this Mama, that all of a sudden she did not know the angry, vengeful woman before her.

And yet, something had possessed her to follow Mama even as she left them without a warning, without another word. She ran and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but the gap between them seemed only to grow all the more, mocking her efforts. “Don’t leave me,” she had called out in desperation. “Take me with you.” But her voice seemed a mere whisper in the howling wind, and she soon lost sight of that silver hair and billowing white fabric.

And then she had…

‘…Fallen?’

 
==========

Before leaving, both women had urged her to make herself at home. So she accepted their offer, exploring the house with no real direction save for wherever her slipper-clad feet chose to take her. The finery she had observed in her room, she learned, extended throughout the entire abode, with its gleaming marble floors, elegant chandeliers and exquisite artwork that decorated the walls. The great room, overlooked by the second-floor hallway outside her bedroom, was dominated by mahogany fixtures and pearl velvet upholstery. Even the basement exuded sheer opulence, as she stumbled upon a well-stocked and maintained wet bar just at the foot of the stairs. Behind that lay the sprawling room that contained the house’s home entertainment system, and although she could neither recognize nor dare touch any of the sleek, sophisticated-looking gadgets and screens, she knew the system was not out of place with the rest of the luxury in the house.

She liked this place, she realized, although whether or not she could stay was not hers to decide, but for the people of the house.

Not that she wanted to impose on them, however. She was well aware that her arrival was completely unexpected; she was fairly certain she had disturbed the quiet efficiency with which the members of this household, atypical though it was, seemed to run. What if Victor’s sister returned? Nobody had yet mentioned his parents; what if they paid a visit? She would find out later that neither was a concern that would be realized any time soon, but as of the moment she worried about what to do. She had to learn how to adapt quickly to the ways of this peculiar corner of the universe, so that she could soon figure out how to find Mama and return home.

That last thought made her slow down and gradually come to a halt as she mulled over it. She could not find a way to return home until she could remember where ‘home’ even was. And to do that, she had to somehow figure out a way to reclaim the memories she had lost, but how could she accomplish that?

Just as a sense of hopelessness had begun crawling into her veins, a smooth and lively baritone shattered what remained of her thoughts. “’Gandang hapon po!”

Startled, she glanced up, trying to remember where she was. From the moist, warm breeze that tickled her skin and flushed her cheeks, she figured she must have wandered to the outside of the house. The floor beneath her feet was now made of finished wood, and a long steel bench painted black lined the wall beside her. But all this was trivial, as she caught sight of the garden.

The massive backyard had been cleverly turned into a marvelous collection of plant life. Mango, jackfruit, guava and lemon trees lined the perimeter, each one circled by stones enclosing a patch of fine grass at the roots. Elsewhere rose bushes stood clumped in groups of perfect spheres; they shared the brick-lined clearing with neatly-trimmed hedges of jasmine, bougainvillea, and hibiscus flowers in red and white. Orchids of every kind and color sat contentedly in ceramic pots, or crawled along a large ornamental log. In the center of it all stood a large three-tiered Venice fountain, which filled the air with the soothing sound of rushing water. And lining the circumference was a bed of sunflowers arranged in a ring, each bloom smiling towards the sky.

The sight took her breath away, such that it took a few seconds before she remembered to return the greeting. “Good-good afternoon to you too!” she called out, cursing herself for being so slow to respond.

It was then that she finally saw him, stepping out from behind the fountain and sauntering her way. Perhaps due to the heat he had chosen to wear nothing but faded jeans and rubber slippers, giving her a clear view of his sculpted arms and torso. Although he was probably of the same height, he looked nothing like Victor, with his dark skin and tamed black hair cropped neatly at the nape and temples. And his most arresting feature, bright brown eyes shaped like almonds, reminded her of someone else… “You look like Julia,” she had blurted out before she even realized it.

“Really? That’s a relief, then, seeing as she is my sister after all.” A corner of his lips twitched up in good-natured amusement, and he held out a roughened hand. “Jun Dalisay po. I’m Victor’s gardener.”

She merely stared at him, unable to comprehend the gesture. Eventually he just took his hand back and stuffed it into his pocket, embarrassed. “Ah, so…what brings you to my little haven?”

“I was just walking around.” She skipped down a short flight of stairs and stepped onto the bricks, gazing up and around her. “You have a very nice place here.”

“It’s Victor’s, not mine. Well technically it’s not even his, either, but his family’s.” Jun followed a few steps behind her as she walked around the various flower bushes, delighting in all the bright colors and the soft textures of the blooms. “I’m just the one who made it, and takes care of it all.”

She glanced up in blatant awe and shock. “You created all of this?”

“Well…not overnight, of course.” He smiled. “You like it?”

She nodded vigorously. “It’s all so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Striding purposefully towards the ornate fountain, she stopped a few feet short as her path was blocked by curious flowers that all seemed to be facing one way. “These big ones,” she called out, fingering some of the cheery yellow petals tenderly. “What are they called?”

“Sunflowers,” he replied. “I guess they might have been called that because when they’re young, they tend to follow the sun, and wherever it is in the sky that’s where they’re facing.”

“Even if you leave, I will follow. Wherever you go; you know I will. I would follow you until the edge of forever, if I knew…if there was even the smallest chance that you would forgive me.”

May blinked, feeling a wave of apprehension as the voice - a tiny shard of her broken, scattered memories - echoed in her head. ‘Papa?’

Her trembling hand nearly crushed the flower completely.

“…I’ve said something to upset you, haven’t I?” Jun frowned as he studied her expression. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I just thought I remembered something.”

“Well I apologize nonetheless. Victor always tells me I talk too much.”

She turned her timid, almost apologetic gaze from the sunflowers and onto him. “You’re…different.”

“Oh?”

“Everyone else here calls him ‘Sir Victor.’ You are the first person I’ve met in this house who only calls him by name.”

He let out a slight laugh, stooping down to re-align one of the decorative rocks that had been kicked out of its place. “Victor and I go way back. We met as children ten years ago and we’ve been friends since then. So I can get away with dropping the fancy titles.”

“But Julia calls him ‘Sir,’” she pointed out.

“Ah, well…how they met is a different story.” She noticed how his eyes seemed to have darkened, and a tone of sadness had crept into his voice. She wondered what was wrong, but then he turned around and cheerfully decided to change the subject. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the girl from last night, right? May?” Upon seeing her nod, he turned away, cracking a small smile at a nearby jasmine hedge. “Victor always had good taste. Most of the girls he brings home never really stay overnight though, much less till the next afternoon. I would have thought you’d gone home by now.”

His first two sentences confused her, but whatever desire she had to question him about them melted away when he mentioned ‘home.’ And this time it was her turn to sulk, casting her eyes down. “I might have, really. But…” After a few seconds of deliberation, she heaved a sigh and told him everything: about Mama angrily running away, the vague recollection of death, how she was frustrated that she could not seem to recall anything useful…and how she had tried to follow Mama to bring her home, but somehow winded up in this unfamiliar place instead.

“That’s harsh,” he said softly after she had finished. He paused for a moment, and seemed as though he was wrestling with what to say. “Well…what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I was thinking, maybe I can wait for my memory to return; then I can worry about figuring out how to get home. Until then…I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’d hate to stay here and be a bother to you all.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind…not that it’s my call, though.”

A warm gust of wind filled up the silence that ensued, and a number of leaves were shaken loose from their branches. Some of the taller, thinner hedges swayed to and fro; the slow, hypnotizing movements made it as though they were dancing.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked at length.

“The women of the house seem to love you, from what I’ve been hearing all day - that you’re a great listener, and that unlike all of Victor’s other girls, you don’t talk down to them. As for me, well, I’m not usually one to reject something that is literally heaven-sent.” He burst into laughter when she did little else but meet his eyes soberly. “Not even a smile? You’re certainly hard to amuse. Here.” And with that he walked over to the nearby jasmine hedge, scanning the many blooms for a while before delicately plucking one of them.

“What is that?”

“Sampaguita,” he answered, using its native name. “This is me welcoming you to our household.” Swiftly, and before she could draw back, he pushed aside a lock of her hair and tucked the small white flower behind her left ear. “I know I should have made a necklace of them, but I hope this will do.”

She didn’t realize what it was then; she felt her cheeks heating up ever so slightly, and she succumbed to the sudden, unexplainable urge to avert her gaze. But the gesture, spontaneous and strange though it was, touched her. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome. Stay with us as long as you need…or, well, until Victor kicks you out.”

“Oh.”

“And there he is now.”

May glanced up towards the porch. Sure enough, she recognized the man who had just come through the back door, dressed in a red polo shirt and dark chinos, as the same man from the balcony the night before. He walked briskly towards them, looking visibly irritated.

“There you are.” He addressed the gardener without so much as a greeting, and did not acknowledge May’s existence at all. “I’ve been looking all over for you, damn it!”

“And the garden was the last place you thought to check?” Jun chuckled. “Really?”

“Ulol. If your cell weren’t perpetually on silent mode you might have heard me calling you about a dozen times.”

“But I keep getting into trouble when it rings in class!”

“It’s summer, you don’t have class.”

“I know. It’s great, isn’t it?”

May wisely bit on her lower lip, swallowing down a laugh that had bubbled to the edge of her throat. She had seen the way the rest of the household - bodyguards, maids - spoke with Victor, and none had yet addressed him in such a flippant, teasing manner. It was enjoyable to watch, which was why she felt a hint of disappointment when Rosario appeared at the door and called her inside for dinner. In truth, she had wanted to speak with Victor, ask him if he would allow her to stay with them for some time until her memory returned. But Rosario was insistent, seeming more frantic than inviting.

As she left the garden, what she didn’t know was that it was already an unwritten rule of the household: whenever Victor and Jun spoke among the trees and flowers, it usually meant one or the other wanted to speak in private.

“I have a favor to ask,” Victor began in English, as soon as the door swung shut. “Two days from now - ”

“I know,” Jun cut in. The young gardener seemed to be adept at changing moods in an instant, as a scowl quickly replaced what had once been a cheeky grin. “I’ll never understand why you bother, though. You and I both know you can do better.”

“Spare me the feel-good lecture.” He glanced at the house and furrowed his brows. “What the hell is she still doing here?”

“Oh, so you did notice her.” Jun followed his gaze and soon found his eyes resting on one of the large windows along the back wall of the house. The curtains were not drawn, but they could still see two distinctly feminine silhouettes: Julia walking back and forth between kitchen and dining table carrying various bowls and trays, and May consistently on her tail. “The poor girl has amnesia. That bit about her being a gift from Tito Marcos was a flat-out lie, wasn’t it?”

“Of course it was. Nothing happened between us last night.”

“Nice alibi though. It’s so…you.”

Victor shot him a glare. “Again, why hasn’t she gone home yet?”

“Weren’t you listening? She has amnesia…probably from the fall, but I wouldn’t know. Even if she did want to get home, she wouldn’t be able to - ”

“Please. I can’t believe you’re actually buying this crap.” Victor withdrew a new pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tore at the blue seal imprudently and took out a stick. “I want that girl out of the house after dinner tonight. At the soonest.”

“What? What are you, crazy? She has nowhere to go!”

“That’s not my problem,” was the smooth, guiltless reply.

“But…you took her in last night!!” Jun flustered.

“She was naked last night. That may have hampered my judgment a bit.” Victor patted his pockets for a few moments before eventually locating the lighter he sought…and practically snarled when, in one fluid motion, his friend swiped the instrument and tossed it into the fountain. “What the hell?!”

“I couldn’t care less if you die of emphysema at age thirty. But no smoking in my little paradise.” He merely frowned at the glowering man who was technically his boss, but also his best friend. The two of them shared a very unusual relationship, he was well aware, but then again they had met under very unusual circumstances as well. “I know what you’re thinking: this could easily be just some elaborate lie, masterminded by someone out there who planted her to gain your trust, so that when she has it she robs you blind and disappears. And it wouldn’t be the first time…” He trailed off, allowing his friend to fill the silence by swearing loudly. “But, just so you know…not everyone out there is heartless vermin ready to leech off other people’s kindness. Sometimes…” He shrugged. “Sometimes people just need help.”

“So you think this is all real,” Victor deadpanned. “That she’s being honest and can’t go anywhere because she, swear to God, can’t remember a thing.”

“Well…she seemed genuinely upset?”

“And of course you, who cling to the belief that all people are good deep down inside, believed her without a second thought.” He had walked up to the fountain and rolled up his sleeve to the shoulder. Crouching down, he dipped his arm into the water, gritting his teeth at the cold, and fumbled for the lighter. “You’re a naïve idiot who trusts people too easily.”

“And you’re a paranoid prick who doesn’t trust anybody.”

Victor sighed loudly, giving up his futile search and turning to face his friend. “Why do you even care so much?” he asked, pulling his arm out of the water and running a dripping hand through his hair.

“Because you know I’m right. Because she needs a place to stay until she figures it all out. And because once upon a time, Victor, you had a heart. And you didn’t automatically assume people on the street were all out to get you and screw you over.” A tense silence followed after that, during which Jun worried if he’d hit a nerve; if he had, Victor did not show it. “At least, let her stay here for tonight,” he reasoned, his voice dropping so that it was barely audible. “Don’t throw her out now that it’s getting dark…you know how it is.”

Victor gave him a snort for his efforts. But a troubled look briefly flitted across his features, betraying him.

==========

(....that's actually not how that scene is supposed to end. But for the life of me, I can't figure out how to finish it properly T_T.)

Um.....ta-dah?

And, the age-old question: to continue, or not to continue? SIGH. So many things I wan to do, so little time/resolve/opportunity.
Previous post Next post
Up