Muse of The River Chapter 2, a mai hime fanfic

Here is a link to the song Mutya ng Pasig : (www.)youtube(.com)/watch?v=Nuc9gWuC71M --remove the parenthesis.

Maraming salamat sa lahat ng nag-review (Thank you very much to the reviewers) If you are stupid enough to not notice the english translations of some of the Filipino and Spanish texts, then that is your problem. Some Filipino words do not have any equivalent in the English language.

try searching for images of the ff:

Baro't saya, Barong Tagalog, Sarong, Kalesa. So that you'll know what the people look like.

HAN DJ: Maraming salamat ho! mas nanalo ang Pilipino sa puso ni Shizuru kaya't kapag ang nanay niyang mestiza ang kanyang kausap, nagpipilipino siya. Ang ama niya ay isang purong Espanyol at ang nanay niya ang mayroong lahing Pilipino.

This chapter is a bit long but I hope you'll enjoy it. Once again, Maraming salamat.

CHAPTER 2

SUMMONING THE MUSE (PAGTAWAG SA MUTYA)

The scent of freshly baked pandesal and brewed kape (coffee) filled Shizuru's lungs. She adored this unique scent of Filipino mornings - a sweet energizing aroma that can only be found in the Philippines. She neatly folded the lacey ebony colored blanket in her hands, tucked it underneath her pillow and went downstairs.

"This idiotic Indios (Indians)…believing in all this mystic crap." Don Viola said as he took a sip of kape Barako from his porcelain mug.

"Hush dear. Learn to respect their religion and culture. They are animists and the spirit of nature dwells in everything for them." Doña Ichigo Viola said as she cut a piece of tapa with her fork. She loved her husband but despised the Spanish within him. They have been married for 35 years already and she still could not understand how and why Don Perfecto Valiente Viola, an ethnocentric pure blooded Spanish official, fell in love with her who was half Filipino and half Japanese – two races that the Don despised the most.

"Buenas Tardes (good morning), Papa" Shizuru said as she kissed the Don on his right cheek. He smiled in satisfaction and his long and slightly curled moustache made him look like a cat. Realizing this, the Dona chuckled.

"Buenas Tardes, mama" Shizuru kissed the Dona's right cheek and the Doña kissed her daugher's left cheek in response.

"Consolacion! Please fetch your señorita a plate." Don Perfecto's voice boomed through out the whole room so it was impossible for the poor old maid Consolacion to not hear her master's orders. The chubby old maid quickly entered the room with a porcelain plate in her hand. Her saya(Filipina dress)was slightly wrinkled – evidence that the Don had been driving poor old Consolacion mad again with all his severe orders. 'Get this for me!' 'Shine my boots!' 'Where is the coffee?!' 'Fry me some eggs!' 'Where's my toast?' 'Where are my favorite trousers?!' 'Consolacion! The egg is burned!'. Poor old Consolacion, Shizuru thought. If only she would allow Shizuru to help her with some of the chores such as sweeping the floor and making coffee, then at least her work wouldn't be this nerve racking. But for a good servant such as Consolacion, to make your Señorita do even the simplest of your work was a huge NO-NO.

"Maraming salamat, Consolacion (thank you very much, Consolacion.)" Shizuru said as Consolacion placed the clean porcelain plate in front of the now seated Shizuru. Consolacion smiled and bowed to her senorita and she exited the room again.

"Shizuru, hija. I just want to remind you that your motherland is Spain, not the Philippines. Therefore, your mother tongue should be that of your motherland." Don Perfecto said as he handed the bowl of Sinangag rice to Shizuru who gleefully took it in her pallid hands.

"I know papa. But please take into consideration that Consolacion is a Filipina and speaking to her in a foreign language is not only unethical, but it is also useless since she will not be able to comprehend whatever it is that comes out of my mouth. Don't worry dear papa. I shall speak Filipino only when I'm living here." She placed a generous amount of rice on her plate with a large wooden spoon and placed the bowl of rice in the center of the table. There was silence. Mother and daughter knew that silence meant that the Don's nationalistic ego was slightly offended by Shizuru's comment.

"Bueno(so)…what illogical act did the Indios do today, papa?" She gulped down upon saying the word indio for it was a derogatory word used by the Spanish against the Filipinos and for her, using it was not downright unreasonable and immoral. She despised the fascist views of her people. The Don's eyes brightened upon hearing this for he thought that somehow his daughter shared his point of view and he was so proud of his unica hija. He was so happy that his princessita was now acting like a 'white' woman. He cleared his throat and once again the room was taken over by vociferous speech.

"The guards found a dead body floating in the Pasig River again. Apparently, the poor tonto (idiot)drowned in the river last night. We smell bloody murder all over this case but the Indios keep insisting that the poor chap went loco(crazy) over some engkantada (fairy) and followed her down the river last night."

He lifted his mug and took another sip of coffee. "Bunch of superstitious morons the government is feeding here."

And then the sight of drowning men, decay and beauty came rushing through her mind again as she absentmindedly placed a spoonful of rice and meat in her mouth.

She felt like she was eating the flesh of the drowned man.

She tasted slightly salty water – the kind that comes from the rivers, not meat.

"Papa." She said as she entered the living room. Don Perfecto placed the newspaper that he was reading down to look at his daughter. "Yes dear?"

"Are you going to see the drowned man later?"

"Yes dearest. Why do you ask?"

"If it is not too much to ask, can I come with you?" Don Perfecto was shocked. It was a very strange request indeed! He could not muster out a reply. Why on earth would his lovely daughter want to see a rotting corpse?

"Shizuru, it reeks there and the sight that you're going to see is very unpleasant."

"I know Papa. Please, papa, let me come with you this afternoon." What foul creature would say no to this beautiful maiden when she is pleading for you to approve her very simple request? Certainly not the gentle Don Perfecto. He dared not disappoint his little princess and so he agreed. Whenever his daughter asked him for something, it was always something very useful and important. She never asked for pointless things except for TODAY and so now as his daughter kissed his cheek and exited the room, silence fell upon him.

A slender but slightly calloused finger gently pressed itself against the black board. Its nails slightly scraped the sandy textured material as it traced the huge letters written on it:

N A R C I S S A.

"Narcissa..." the official mumbled as he wrote the name that the hand pointed on a sheet of paper. "What is your surname again?" He inquired as he looked up to meet viridian colored eyes staring down at him.

"Kuga." She replied in a menacingly low voice that made the official fidget in his seat. The woman flicked her long hair with her right hand as she tapped her right foot on the wooden floor as a sign of impatience. The blue sarong that she wore was adorned with intricate geometric patterns of the moon and the brick red puruntong (pants) that she had on was ornamented with beautiful patterns made with red, violet, and yellow threads – The color combination that the Filipinos often used in weaving.

The official dipped his plume in the bottle of black ink and looked at the woman once again before he wrote the name 'Narcissa Kuga' on the sheet of paper in front of him. Blacker and more fluid than the ink, he said to himself.

Narcissa sighed in frustration. It was such a humid day and the registration was taking too long. The guwardiya sibils (civil guards) were playing cards on the table to her right and they were making the most annoying noises with their high-pitched voices and pointless laughing. 'Todas (dead)!' one shouted. 'Hijo del Puta (Son of a Bitch), Carolino!' replied one. And she was cursing these noisy pigs under her throat, these loud mouthed bastards in blue uniforms. Oh how she would love to slap, slap, slap their silly faces and spit at them and call them what they truly are – BUFFOONS.

"Narcissa Kuga." The official interrupted her rather violent thoughts. 'Natsuki', the breeze whispered to her when it passed her by, making swirl after swirl of her jet black hair dance and her knee-length sarong wave as if it were the sea and the moon was reflected on it. 'Natsuki' the breeze seemed to kiss her cheek and she closed her eyes and fought the tears that began to hoard themselves together in her beautiful green eyes, behind those soft eyelids with slightly curled jet black eye lashes. 'Natsuki, not Narcissa. I am Natsuki Kuga not Narcissa.' She chanted in her head.

"Narcissa Kuga?" the official interrupted her thoughts for the second time.

"Ano? (what?)" She replied with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Welcome to Maynila" And he handed her the paper that he had been signing for three hours.

Everyday is like a fiesta in the city of Manila. The stylish wooden houses, whose colors range from mahogany, dark brown, and sepia, were a sight to see. The people, themselves, were embellishments – women with their lacey, stunning, multi colored Sayas, Maria Claras, and Filipinianas would walk with golden paynetas in their hair, and colorful jewelry on their fingers, hands, neck, and ears (And if a Filipina were to become a precious stone, she would become the most precious stone of all, the diamond – sparkling with many colors!). The men too, were very well dressed. Often, it is the barong that stands out in the crowd with its stylish and bold design and even though the barong was meant to be white (so that the Spanish could see who had a weapon tucked underneath his shirt), the Filipino's patterned it after the traditional colorful clothes that they wore before the coming of the Spanish, and thus, the barong too, comes in many colors like the dazzling baros of the women. Brightly colored kalesas and Victorian styled carriages that contained rich Dons, Doñas, Señors, Señoras or anyone else who is rich enough to afford them, made their way through the cobbled streets, the horses that drew them made clackety-clack noises like the guardia serano in the night, and like young men tap-dancing to some fancy tune.

One particular carriage was drawn by two black stallions and it contained a very important statesman and his gorgeous daughter.

'A strange request indeed!' Don Perfecto said to himself as he leaned on his cane. He silently watched his daughter who was sitting in front of him. Shizuru was wearing a beige Filipininana that had sophisticated floral patterns all over it. She was counting the sea green pleats of her long palda(skirt) for she had always been fascinated by the alternating dark violet and sea green pleats on her garb. It reminded her of the skin of poisonous snakes – animals that intrigued her to no end. There was something so wrong and yet so beautiful about these creatures – so fine-looking yet so untouchable and oh so deadly. She had always wanted to have one as a pet and give it the name of a Japanese girl who turned into a snake, a character in a story of unrequited love that her mother had told her when she was but a little child of five. 'Ara…If only mama would let me have one…'

The carriage stopped. "Shizuru, we have arrived" Don Perfecto said as he placed the top hat on his head. The kutsero (driver) opened the door for the Violas. Don Perfecto was the first to step out and he stood on the pavement as he straightened his tail coat. After making sure that he was looked fine, he stretched his right hand to his daughter.

"My father is truly a gentleman" she gleefully remarked. The don smiled and his moustache made him look like a grinning cat.

The wind was humming to her again.

"I was baptized two days ago at the Parish of Our Lady of the Abandoned. I am now Narcissa Kuga."

The old woman raised her eyebrow at Narcissa and scanned her from head to toe with eyes that showed disgust.

"I find that hard to believe, Narcissa. You are still dressed like a savage from the mountains. Look at those rags..tsk tsk…"

Natsuki's brows twitched and her face became red as she fumed with anger for this hukluban (old hag) in white woman's clothes. This was her favorite Sarong! Her people slaved over this apparel day and night. It was made of the finest silk, the kind that they received from Chinese traders and she was not going to allow some lowly old woman to call it 'rags'. 'RAGS!' the word rung through her ears like a bell and she wanted to punch the old hag in the face. She wanted to feel the small brittle nose crack under her knuckles and see the red, red blood ooze out from her face's orifices.

"You have no idea of who you are talking to."

"Actually, I do. I am speaking to a recently Christianized barbarian in rags."

Slap! It was as quick as a lightning bolt and the old woman had very little time to react. She only saw three things before she felt like her left cheek was going to fly off of her face - green eyes, a hand, darkness and then –SLAP!

She fell down upon the marble floor. She clutched her swollen cheek and there was a thin stream of blood and saliva on the right side of the mouth. Her wrinkled face showed no sign of fear or anger. She was just plainly and simply surprised. Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth hung wide open as she drew in quick puffs of breath to calm her poor heart. Natsuki quickly took the papers from the old woman's hand.

"I don't feel like working here anyway." She remarked with a toothy grin. She turned away from the old woman, flicked her hair with her right hand, and exited the building.

The bluish cadaver lied down on the table. Dozens of flies flew around its head like saint's halo. Its tongue was now become a pink wrinkled muscle. It reminded Shizuru of a deflated pink balloon. The man's eyes were dilated. If only she was patient enough, then she might be able to count all the red and purple nerves on the man's eyes. Blood and mud oozed out from its ears, nose, and mouth.

"Have you found the murderer?" Don Perfecto asked one of the five guwardiya sibils in the room.

"Not yet, sir. Witnesses say that the man was not pushed into the river. He simply drowned himself."

"Well then…he must have lost his mind."

What truly perplexed Shizuru was that the dead man did not show a trace of regret or fear in his face. Death was not upon his eyes and the primal urge to scream out for help was not plastered in his lips. In fact, his muddy, pale, cracked lips were curled upwards into a smile, a smile that showed sheer adoration. 'Perhaps an angel came to take your soul into heaven, and that is why you died smiling. Am I correct, señor?' She mentally asked the corpse. His eyes were those of a lover melting in happiness at the sight of his lady love. It was as if he was gazing and admiring someone.

A hand came upon her shoulder. She raised her head and saw her father with a worried look on his face.

"Shizuru are you done?" Don Perfecto asked as he covered his nose with a handkerchief. The room smelled of decay and human excrement for the man had emptied his bowels in his pants in his death.

"Yes papa. I am done." She removed the handkerchief covering her mouth and nose to smile at her father.

"Well, you should go somewhere else. We're going to have to…um…conduct a few experiments on the body and it isn't going to be very pleasant…unless of course, you would like to watch. "

She did not want to see the smile on his face get ripped apart.

"Thank you papa. But, I feel the need to go somewhere else. Would you permit me to go and visit my friends?"

"Absolutely dearest. Fransisco, please escort my lovely daughter."

"Thank you, papa." She said as she planted a kiss on the Don's right cheek. Don Perfecto turned 'cat' again.

The lanky guard known as Fransisco opened the door for Shizuru.

'Did you really see an angel, señor?'

She exited the building and walked out into the cobble stoned streets of the city where the horses went clackety-clank and everyone was a spectacle of colors.

'Or perhaps…it was something else that you saw…something or someone far more beautiful than an angel…a Goddess…The Muse of the Pasig."

The sun had begun to set and the sky turned from blue to yellow, to vermilion and to red. The people had begun to leave the banks of the Pasig. The day was nearing its end and the moon would soon replace her husband up in the heavens, and her children would soon come to play with her in the obsidian sky. The wind whispered unto the grasses 'hush hush! Be soft and bow before her so that you may not cut the soles of her feet with you sharp green heads.

"Will you come out?" Shizuru asked to no one in particular. She did not visit any of her friends. She sat underneath the shade of a tree and watched as the cool waters of the Pasig darkened as the sky dimmed.

She remembered a tale from Japan about a certain beautiful moon princess who was given to an old woodcutter. 'Perhaps the moon princess is also the muse of the Pasig.' She said to herself. She was so amused by this idea that she did not see the sun in it's descent from the firmament for she had dozed off into sleep, dreaming of the moon princess who was also the muse of the Pasig in her dreams.

It was night. The wind was humming and the moon was peeking out from the heavens. Shizuru awoke when a sudden cold breeze kissed her forehead. The grass bowed before the river. The pitch black waters of the river zigzagged and formed ancient patterns. Shizuru stood up and slowly went near the river.

And then white foams. 'Aphrodite is being born.'

And then the stars twinkled with delight. 'The cloak is preparing to cover it's mistress'

And the moon cast it's reflection upon the water. 'for it's lady is calling upon it.'

The grass bowed lower and sea breeze sang louder as Shizuru's heartbeat grew louder and faster with each passing second, As that crimson beating thing in her chest screamed louder and louder and louder.

And then a hand came out of the white foams. Her breathing stopped. Her heart stopped shouting.

...

DICTIONARY:

pandesal - pandesal is a kind of bread baked in the Philippines. Its brown crust is crunchy while its inside are soft. Its creamy, sweet taste has made it a common breakfast of the Filipinos.

Kape barako - kape barako is a strong and slightly bitter tasting coffee brewed in the Filipinos.

Saya/Baro't saya - The traditional dress of Filipino women. The baro has been worn since ancient times, before the coming of the Spaniards. Upon the conquistador's arrival, the baro't saya's design was slightly europeanized, but it still retains the beautiful colors and floral patterns that ancient Filipinas used to wear.

Sarong - similar to the Indian Sari, the Sarong is a traditional dress worn by ancient Filipino men and women. It is the Sotuh East Asian version of the tunic and is usually made of abaca or silk.

Hukluban - in Filipino mythology, the hukluban is a malevolent monster disguised as an old hag (it could be a man or a woman) who casts spells on innocent mortals.

Tapa/Tapsilog - A favorite Filipino breakfast meal that consists of fried eggs, sinangag rice, and meat. Sinangag rice is garlic rice while tapa is similar to beef jerky but is far more sweeter than the mentioned dish.

Kalesa- not to be mistaken for a chariot, the kalesa is just one of those horse-drawn vehicles that can only be found in the Philippines. During the 17th to 19th century, riding the kalesa was a privilege enjoyed by the noble/rich people. The only Indo/Filipio who is able to ride the kalesa is none other than the kutsero, it's driver.

**Natsuki is a pure blooded Filipino. For personal reasons (that shall later be revealed), she has succumbed to the Spanish authorities and consequently, to the church and is given a forced baptism so that she may enter the city of Manila. When the Spanish came to the Philippines, they forced the 'reduccion' policy upon the poor Filipinos who lived in seperate barangays (communities ruled by datus that consisted of 30-40 families). The reduccion/divide and conquer policy obliged the Filipinos to convert to Christianism so that they may continue to live in the plazas/cities that have now been altered by the Spanish. Naturally, many Filipinos resisted this and refused to surender to the cruel, oppressive Spanish authorities so they fled to the mountains and into the ancient, thick forests of the archipelago. Those who continued to be free were called 'tulisan, ladrones, or remondatos - derogatory words that meant bandits, and no goods or evil doers.

For one to be able to thrive in the city of Manila once again (as I mentioned before, in the prologue, Manila was already a powerful kingdom before the coming of the spanish and the katagalugans lived in the city harmoniously with one another until they were driven out by the Spanish), one must surrender his/herself to the Spanish authorities, undergo a Christian baptism, and of course, have your real name changed. The name changing process is rather ridiculous. The Filipino would be placed in front of a blackboard filled with different names. The Filipino will then point his/her finger on the name he/she desires (too bad if the poor guy can't read the Spanish alphabet because the catalog of names contained derogatory words such as 'utot' - fart, or 'tae' -'feces) and PRESTO! you have your named changed.