lambayong grew wild on the roadside a vine like any other large hand sized leaves grew singly never in bunches although lush and green it was taken for granted lambayong lay largely left alone ignored and all but forgotten
my friends and I jumped rope on the street by the big house there was always a noisy gaggle of 4 or 5 jumpers just out having fun a long vine stripped of leaves and branches made a great rope one day a young passerby asked if she could join us we had never seen her before but gladly let her jump in for some reason she got mad at me grabbed the vine, doubled it and lashed me hard she was about to hit me again I reached out and caught the vine wound it around my hand and lashed back at her she ran away sobbing and wailing we never saw her again and never found out who she was
during the Japanese occupation not everyone evacuated like we did a lovely family from Cebu stayed in town one daughter was my fourth grade classmate a beautiful mestiza with fair skin and loose wavy hair but we were never friends just classmates her family’s affluence was well known father was a doctor and land owner jealous lips whispered lies “the family is supporting guerrillas” denials fell on closed ears perhaps willfully lost in translation lack of evidence didn’t matter there was an example to be made brutality’s lesson to be taught the entire family was beheaded down to the four year old
Isabel was my best friend we found each other before the war I had many neighborhood friends but Sabel was the only one welcome to play in the big house she had both parents a big sister and brother a younger brother they lived in their own nipa and bamboo house stilted high from the ground a beautiful girl with a dark complexion long black ***** hair fell in ringlets onto her forehead we would bathe together singing together in the bathroom one kind uncle had his own wing in the big house he built me a sturdy swing for two hung from the ceiling big strong ropes held a wide wooden seat Sabel and I would swing away together sometimes upside down like a couple of crazy monkeys we would go up and down the stairs arms over shoulders forever singing songs sometimes her family invited me to lunch but she never had a meal with us in the big house her parents managed to support their family mother provided laundry service for the affluent in town including my family father traded goods their life seemed happy and harmonious after the war my family returned to Carigara don’t know what happened to them I never saw Sabel again but I never forgot her