(my great, great grandfather as told by my mamasita)
he came from Calbiga with his Spanish nose tropic’s warmth allowed him to wear but a pair of shorts everyday his shirtlessness revealed smooth, supple, brown skin thick shimmering white hair the only clue to his age without knife or razor his fingers felt his face and tweezered stubble with a pair of empty clam shells he slept on a pillow of hard narrah wood made smooth and shiny by years of use he built his nipa and bamboo house by the shore big, sturdy and strong sheltered at cliff’s foot it withstood every storm
high atop the cliff a tree stood tall and huge a prolific garden of crops and flowers grew in the soft filtered light of its canopy cane and banana relinquished skin in strips scraped clean and sun dried woven into harvest and fishing baskets braided into fishing line he cut down only what he needed allowing the plants to thrive long before sustainability was new
old folks said that tall and huge tree was a faeries’ castle tending pineapples growing beneath it Apay Bectay heard a voice beckoning her a sweet musical melody in the wind “Bectay…Bectay…” she peered upward to a vision so beguiling a beautiful naked lady sitting high on a limb her skin a pale, pale white her face and smile radiant she stroked her long golden hair with a golden comb as it flowed alive with the breeze she appeared as a mermaid underwater sitting in a sea of swaying green leaves Apay Bectay ran home for fear of enchantment
one day, my ears followed a peaceful, playful tune until I came upon Apoy Engo by his front door post improvising on a small yellow flute he had carved by hand a thin, foot long bamboo chute harvested from a nearby grove
when the tide was high you could always find him fishing by the house, close to shore rain or shine as long as the sea was calm sitting in his banca slightly stooped patiently awaiting a bite for his viand a woven sun shade hat tied under his chin a picture of serenity accompanied by the soft lapping sea