Daniel knew about the folk lore. His lolo was one of the oldest and richest men in their barrio. He heard that people like lolo Puling will never rest until he passed his sacred stone to one of his descendants.
It was him.
He entered the room smelling jasmin and incense. His lolo‘s face was peaceful. “My dear apo, give me your hand,” the ancient man said. Daniel reached out and held his lolo’s still strong hands. He remembered being carried by the old man when he was younger.
With a deep breath, “I leave you everything,” he said.
Their eyes locked as if speaking with one another for an eternity. Then the glow in the older man’s eyes disappeared, then he slept.
Daniel withdrew his hand from lolo Puling and noticed a blue jewel as if engraved in his palm.
Jacob’s contagious laughter spilled throughout the room like daylight creeping through curtains in a sunny afternoon. He told his latest adventure to his friends. It was during Saturdays when he could relax and get together with the other workers at the factory.
“I envy you Jacob,” one of the men told him. “You are lucky! Nailing that pretty brunette, Agnes!”
Jacob gave another boisterous laugh then winked in agreement to the man.
When he reached home, his patient wife was fanning their daughter relentlessly because their electricity was cut off. He merely smiled then sat opposite the sofa and immediately fell asleep.
His wife walked towards him then wiped the sweat off his broad forehead.
“Thank you Agnes,” he slurred.
Anne looked blankly at her husband’s sleeping face. Not knowing what she felt, but immediately tasted salt from her lips.