She disappeared again, that kid. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with her; she’s so different from her siblings, not only in manners but in appearance as well. They say she is touched by Engkanto. Some call them environmental spirits, the ones who dwell in the forest and have magical powers. That would explain her fair skin and strange colour of hair. Her father said it is like that of corn, I find it unsettling like almost everything about her.
The other day I can’t help but spanked her because she’s been telling nonsense again. She’s full of those little stories which make you wonder sometimes if she’s right in the head.
I found her sitting on the window sill, feet dangling off the edge bawling.
“What on earth happened to you?” I asked scooping her up away from the window.
“A rooster bit my big toe.” She said sobbing. I immediately put her down.
“The golden one, mama. The one that sometimes appears together with the golden hen and beautiful shining chicks.” She said, smiling through her tears.
“There is no rooster or chickens around here, or anywhere nearby golden or otherwise. We have no neighbours remember? Don’t say things like that!”
“But it’s true, mama! He bit my big toe, look! He saw me looking at him and he jumped and bit me!”
“Stop it! Chickens don’t jump, they fly. And he cannot bite you because he doesn’t exist! There are no chickens around here, do you understand?”
“How come you don’t see them? I always see them. And there are other things too, like the big guy the other night, the one that came and sit in our balcony wearing all black and has no face, and the coffin that was floating under the tree with four candles on top and a hat, why there was a hat on top of the coffin mama? Who the hat belongs to, did someone forget it?”
That did it. Before I realized what I was doing, I took off my slipper and gave her a good whacking across the bottom, then send her to nap. I just hope that she will not tell her father when he comes home…