CROSSING THE RIVER IBAJAY

By Mario Gregorio Masangkay
Baranggay Kagawad, Sta. Cruz, Ibajay, Aklan

I remember going to a tent meeting each night for a month in Rizal, Ibajay, Aklan sometime in 1974. Shortly before 5:00 o'clock each afternoon, my sister Nellie, my cousin Elsie Gregorio, myself, and our spiritual mentor/guide would leave for Rizal, about eight miles away by our circuitous route. We walked through the rice fields of' Barangay Batuan to Sitio Bucboc of Barangay Laguinbanua, crossed a creek into Sitio Pangpang, and walked through rice fields again to a certain point near the plaza of Barangay Bagacay, There, we crossed the provin­cial road, walked through a coconut grove, and waded across the river Ibajay to Rizal. We waited in Manang Tessie's house until the meeting in a makeshift shed began. It was where the Seventh-day Adventist chapel now stands.

One cloudy afternoon, we started late for Rizal; i t was already twilight when we reached the shore of the river Ibajay. We three children were in a hurry to cross the river, because aside from being late, the "tiktik" and the "wakwak" were looming big in our minds. We three held hands as we walked to the edge of the water. Our mentor/guide who had stopped several steps behind .us called us back. Nellie went back to her. Our mentor/guide then turned to the wild bushes growing along the shore of the river and whispered and murmured then broke into a song "Lord, be my companion". She gave permission to cross, and took Nellie’s hand as they walked to the edge of the water where Elsie and I were waiting. We started to argue over where we’d cross the river.

The three of us wanted to walk a little way upstream and cross from there in a line diagonal to the current. We could make out in the dusk the eastern bank of the river; and the point where we would climb into Barangay Rizal was somewhat white, and we were about fifty feet down­stream from it. That meant we were standing on a spot directly opposite the point where the river bent northwestward. That bend was a deep part, and the current flowed and whirled counterclockwise creating a sort of "navel" in its centre. Our mentor/guide wanted us to walk straight across to the eastern side of the river exactly from where we were standing. She said she had prayed to God for guidance, so onward we should go. I made faces at our mentor/guide in the dark, and pulled Elsie by the hand. She pulled Nellie, and we three began to walk upstream on the edge of the water. Then we waded into the water, walking diagonal to the current and aiming for the white part of the riverbank ahead of us. Our mentor/guide pulled Nellie to her, and scolded us for being faithless. Elsie and I walked on dragging Nellie; and when we felt our mentor/guide pulling Nellie to her, we almost lifted Ne11ie out of the knee-deep water . (Nellie was and still one inch short of five feet.) Our mentor/guide pulled Nellie to her hard­er, so, lest Nellie come physically apart, Elsie and I let go of her.

A “tiktiktiktiktiktik” emanated from the bushes. Our mentor/guide stop­ped scolding, and sang, “Lord, be my companion”. She sounded like a b1eating choking goat. Then there was a big splash. The choking goat was silent, and there were only Elsie and I standing in the knee-­deep current.

“Mario, si Nellie idto ho (Mario, Nellie is there)…” Elsie pointed at the whirling water about three feet behind us, to our left. “Naeugdang imaw … Mario, baebaeon ako kara ni Tatay’t kueagi … naeumos si Nellie… baebaeon ako kara’t kueagi… Nel, eangoy, Nel, kueagyon’t ang kara… (She sank… Father will beat me with a “kueagi”… Nellie drowned… I'11 be beaten with a “kueagi”… Nel, swim, Nel, I’ll be beaten with a “kueagi” now), Elsie kept babbling. (A “kueagi” is a ­native brush made from a sturdy bamboo stick; when wielded with sufficient force, it could break bones.) Just then, a round black something popped out of the water and floated among the debris toward us. It floated close to Elsie, and she tried to grab it; but the whirling current car­ried it away toward the “navel” of the whirl. Just before it was sucked under, I realized it was my sister’s head. I stared at the spot where my sister’s head had disappeared.

Nellie's head reappeared about two arms span away from the "navel",

behind our mentor/guide who was clinging to the roots of .the “kamun­sil” standing precariously on the bank. Under the “kamunsil” was the exact spot of the river bend. I knew there was a cave-like chamber ­there dug out by the current. Let not my sister goes in there, my God, please, please, please. It was in a similar underwater cave-like cham­ber created by water that my paterna1 grandfather asphyxiated to purgatory when my father was 18 years old. God, please keep Nellie away from there, I prayed. I couldn’t see Elsie or even her hand I was gripping; everything_ was now dark.

I heard Elsie calling Nellie, who, when I looked, was afloat and trying to swim toward us; our spiritual mentor/guide was closely following behind her. Elsie stretched out her hand, and she and Nellie grabbed at each other. I pulled them against the current and when we were almost out of it, our mentor/guide lunged at_ Nellie and caught her dress. Elsie slipped; I lost my grip on both E1sie and Nellie; and they were carried away. I saw them rotating and going under the water near the “navel”. I was now waist-deep in the strong current, which car­ried the sands from under my feet. I felt the imitation leather bag I carried became heavier . It contained Nellie's and Elsie’s best tent meeting dresses and our very precious passport/visa/plane ticket to heaven --- a tattered copy of the King James Version of the Holy Bible. It mustn’t get wet so I raised the bag above my head as I struggled out of the current and flowing sands. It was then I noticed that I was carrying an umbrella with a curved handle.

Once out of the strong current and standing on sands that didn’t slip too much, 1 tried to hook Elsie with the umbrella. She didn’t see the umbrella -- black as it was -- nor did she hear me telling her to grab it. She was crying, and kept calling my name while she was rotating and floating away from me. Then I saw our mentor/guide's head popping out and into the water with the debris. It looked like an octopus with its twisting and wriggling tentacles spread around it. I let her float by and away, to allow her to swallow more water for therapeutic purposes.

I hooked Elsie by her dress collar when she floated by close to where I stood. I pulled her to shallower water where the current was not so strong, and we waited for Nellie to float by. I gave the umbrella to Elsie, and told her to hook Nellie with it while I'd try .to grab her with my hand.

We were pulling Nellie out of the whirling current when our spirit­ual mentor/guide popped out of the water close to Nellie. “Sie, she called out, tabangi ako. Ginaregla’t ang ngarawb”. (Sie, help me. I'm menstruating) … the current carried her away into the “navel” and ducked her under.

We were now safe. And, strangely, it didn’t matter to me whether

our mentor/guide dissolved in the water or evaporated to heaven. It was her monstrous stupidity that nearly killed my sister and my cousin. It was her stupidity and idiotic confidence that she had manipulated God into doing her bidding by her whispering to the wild bushes and by her bleating, “Lord, be my companion” that nearly killed Nellie and Elsie. But Nellie and Elsie didn’t want to leave her menstruating into the river; and I didn’t relish the idea of hauling a washed cadaver home at night like the fabled “aswang”either so we fished her out of the water while she was still alive. No “great fish” was forthcoming to swallow and spew her out at the "pearly gates" of New Jerusalem.

It was a ten-bulldozers job getting her out of the water, because

she acted limp like a rotting banana stalk. And yet she had the

stinking temerity to tell us that she was not at all worried about dying then and there in the water. Now, Now, that she was standing safe and trembling on the river shore? Glory, glory, Ali Baba,. "utot" was spewing on.

We offered our thanks to God; and started to argue whether we should go home, or cross the river again and attend the meeting. Elsie didn’t want to cross the river again; but she didn't want to go home then, for she feared the “kueagi” so much. Nellie and I wanted to go home -- only a leather belt waited at home for us. Our spiritual mentor/ guide didn’t want us to miss the “softly and tenderly Jesus is calling” sales talk at the meeting, so she was very much for the recrossing. But the three of them were soaked to the tiniest flakes of their dandruffs; and they were quaking from the cold, so we started for home. I myself felt the cold shrinking my scrotum.

Our spiritual mentor/guide sang “thank you, Lord, for saving my soul thank you, Lord for making me whole” while we walked through the coconut grove. At the edge of the grove, a few feet from the upward slope that ended on the provincial road, we noticed something white that looked like a triangle with blunted angles. We couldn’t see it well by the shafts of light that filtered from the houses on the road, but we were very sure it was floating above the low bushes. Slowly the triangle grew bigger upward, moved, and then floated toward us. We three children held hands and stepped backward until we bumped into our mentor/guide. “Aswang, may aswang” (an “aswang” is believed able to cast spells and eats humans cooked or raw). Our mentor/guide stopped singing, cleared her throat, and in falsetto, called out in Hiligaynon (church language of the SDA in Ibajay) “maayong gab-I (good evening)”. The white thing stopped, blocking the path. Our mentor/guide called out again in falsetto con tremolo “mayad nga gabii, gaagi malang kami (good evening, we’re only passing by”. A male voice laughed softly and doubtfully, and asked where we were going. Our hair stood on ends. We could see a little of the man. He was about three feet off the ground, and without feet. He carried something wrapped in black. Something like feet dangled from it. “Ay, sang-utod imaw, Sie. Mauli kita sa anday Nang Tessie (he’s one-half, Sie. Let’s go home to Nang Tessie’s)”.

The man spoke again. He assured us that he was not a bad man, that he was not an “aswang”, that he worked at the Rural Bank of Ibajay, that he was Mr. D---------. He explained that a certain “Tay Boni” warned him that the water in the river could have risen, so he left his motorbike at that “Tay Boni’s” house. He took off his shoes, socks, and trousers when he reached the edge of the coconut groove where we found him. We told him our not-so-many-minutes-ago near drowning. He was very sorry for us, and he offered to help us cross the river if we wanted to. We went with him. He kept apologizing for his semi Tarzan costume until we reached Rizal.

The water level where we crossed, exactly where Elsie and I wanted to cross before the near drowning, reached up to just above our knees. The current was strong, all right; but we walked in a line diagonal to the flow of the current, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

We three children attended the tent meeting. Our mentor /guide borrowed a duster from Nang Tessie, and stayed in bed to shiver.

I think now that parents have a sneaky way to find out their children’s best kept secret. We didn’t tell anyone about the accident while crossing the river Ibajay, but Tay Maning (Elsie’s father) somehow knew about it. Though he only threatened to beat Elsie with his “kueagi”; he however, delivered a sermon piecemeal, which, when written, would have been one-third of Jeremiah’s Lamentations, two-thirds of the Ecclesiastes, punctuated with the Proverbs of Solomon. My father, who overheard the sermons, preached his homily night and day, pausing only to take puffs of his “dinub-ea”, inventing additional Apocrypha. My mother and Nay Lina (Elsie’s mother) recited the responsorial psalms. For, after all, what parents could have endured the sight of two soaked cadaver daughters and a half-corpse only-son me (only waist-deep in the water, remember)?

Years went on; we lived on. Mr. D--------- still works at the Rural Bank of Ibajay, surely with promotions and salary raises. Our spiritual mentor/guide allegedly had two “lampunaya con marabilos” assisted miscarriages, married her nephew/impregnator when the third pregnancy stubbornly held on, and still goes around preaching the “gospel” to every gullible soul. Nellie, still one inch below five feet, remained a Roman Catholic, married, and brought forth four children--- three black, one brown, all tall. Elsie, though deceived by our mentor/guide into baptism in Malumpati in Antique one rainy day, returned to Roman Catholicism and remained single. I became “like an infidel’, wrote my Voice of Prophecy teacher; and was called an “hereje” by my grandmother. So “when the trumpet of the Lord shall sound, and time shall be no more; And the morning breaks eternal, bright, and fair, and when all of God’s elect shall gather o’er on the shore, and the roll is called up yonder” we three will not be there. For, we crossed the river to hear Mr. Faigao, the SDA preacher, but we became real Seventh-day Adventists never.