Under the Shade of an Old Mango Tree

Chapter 21: Returning to the Old House

It had been two weeks since Lena was discharged from the hospital and moved into her closest cousins' house. She was steadily recovering. The wound on her forehead had healed nicely, although a scar was forming. But she didn't mind. She'll just get bangs.

"Are you ready?" Ate Anna hollered from the hallway.

"Yeah!" Lena shouted as she zipped up her suitcase.

Bianca stuck her head in through the door.

"That's a big suitcase," she stated.

"Not as big as Ate Anna's," Lena pointed out.

"Yeah. She was a tortoise in a past life."

"Let's go!" Ate Anna hollered again.

Bianca dashed outside and headed to her room to get her suitcase and bag. Lena set her suitcase upright and grabbed her own bag.

When they got to the van, Kuya Brian helped them with their stuff. Tita Martha and Tito George were already seated behind the driver. Lena, Bianca, and Ate Anna got themselves settled in the next rows, while Kuya Brian sat in front. He was supposed to switch with the driver at certain points in the journey to Ilocos Norte.

It took nearly fifteen hours before arriving in Bangui. They had had several much-appreciated stops along the way. They were able to sample several famous dishes that it felt like they just had the most incredible food trip ever and the cousins were practically drowning in the snacks they had bought.

When the van pulled up in front of the sprawling Ramos ancestral mansion, Lena nearly plastered her face against the window. She was so excited that she could barely contain herself. It had been nearly two decades when she was last here, when her grandmother was still alive, when she and her sister were quite young. She felt that she was beginning to tear up.

"Coming, Lena?" asked Tita Martha as she stuck her head from the open side of the van. Kuya Brian and the driver had already emptied the back of the van of all the suitcases.

Lena breathed a sigh of relief. She welcomed the sudden interruption to her sudden trip to memory lane. She didn't want to be carried to the mansion weeping and laughing hysterically.

"Yes, Tita, I'll be there," she said as she grabbed her bag from the floor of the van. She noticed the bags of snacks were gone.

Tita Martha saw Lena scanning the floor.

"Anna and Bianca already brought the snacks inside," she informed Lena. "Bianca is quite eager to sample them."

Lena nodded, slung her bag over her shoulder, and then made her way to the van door. As she stepped out, a flood of beautiful, happy memories nearly overwhelmed her. Eyes sparkling and hands clasped, she slowly marched to the front of the tall carved wooden doors. They were left open and someone was standing on one side, as if waiting for them to enter. Lena assumed that it was the housekeeper. The old woman smiled warmly at Lena. Lena smiled back as she walked through the door, followed by Tita Martha, who was on the phone with someone. Nothing seemed to have changed. From the plain terracotta floor tiles to the thick dark wooden beams on the high ceilings, to the ornate railings of the grand staircase, the stone fountain at the center of the entry area, and the lush potted plants against the crisp white stucco walls.

A row of widely spaced stone columns flanked each side of the spacious entry. To the right, where the dining area and kitchen were, Lena could hear Bianca declaring dibs on the yema and pastillas.

To the left, Lena could hear the TV. Tito George and Kuya Brian were watching the afternoon news.

"Nothing much has changed, huh?" Tita Martha said from behind Lena.

Lena nodded. Her grandmother loved her grand house. The many rooms were ideal for hide-and-seek. For hours she would play with her grandchildren.

"Can I go to the patio, Tita?"

"Of course!" Tita Martha replied. "You don't have to ask permission, dear. Go!"

Lena walked to the far end of the wide, high-ceilinged hall. She opened one of the French doors and surveyed the well-maintained courtyard. Her sparkling eyes rested on a massive mango tree. From its numerous branches hung ribbons and colored ropes. Some had pieces of paper attached to their ends. There were drawings or names on the papers, although they were already too blurry to read or even recognize.

As Lena drew nearer the tree, a few butterflies hovered around her and then left. She continued walking until she was only about three steps from the tree. She tentatively reached out and carefully touched the rough and wrinkled trunk. She looked down and noticed several miniature houses among the large roots of the tree. She also saw wooden stools scattered around the area. She took one stool and placed it in a space in front of the miniature houses. She sat carefully as she tried to recall if the houses had already been there when she was young. But she couldn't remember them.

She stayed under the lush shade of the mango tree for quite some time and didn't notice that it was turning dark until fireflies started to gather around the tree trunk. One of the fireflies landed on the roof of a miniature house and then flew back to its companions. Lena lightly touched the roof. She inhaled sharply when the roof suddenly slid off. She turned to her left and right to see if anyone witnessed her destroying the house. A scene from a Japanese animation momentarily crossed her mind. She shivered, quickly bringing her palms together and bowing to the houses, muttering apologies.

Then as she was trying to put back the roof, she realized the miniature house was hollow—and there was a piece of paper inside. She debated for a long time on whether or not to take the paper and read it. Deciding that it might be safer for her soul to leave it alone, she abruptly stood up after successfully reattaching the roof. Just then she heard soft footsteps. She turned and saw the housekeeper approaching.

"You can read them, dear," she said with a warm smile. "Your sister made those when she stayed here."

Lena sighed wistfully. She bent down to look closely at the houses. They were of different styles, and Lena recognized her sister's favorites, which were also her favorites.

"She was an architect through and through," she stated as she straightened up. "But I smell something really good coming from the kitchen. I'll check out the house tomorrow, during the day . . . when it's less creepy. Ooh." She shivered intentionally, dramatically.

The housekeeper laughed. It was a warm laugh. It reminded Lena of her grandmother.