The Hill

***This is a short provincial story about 'dili ingon-nato' or other creatures in old days. 



It was ten minutes before six o’clock in the evening when we heard an echoing voice of a man.

“Mga bata, pa-oli namo kay hapon na.”

We paused our play and took time turning our heads looking where the voice was originated. Desperate enough to find any person in the area, one of my friends spoke in a horrifying tone, “Hala, naay wak-wak,” until we saw the shaking leaves of the nearby coconut tree.

“Si Nong Yupi!” I shouted.

“Pa-oli namo kay hapon na. Makabangga unya mo’g di-ingon-nato, ” replied the tuba gatherer.

As kids as we were, my friends and I raced to where our gallons filled with water were placed and found ourselves came rushing down the hill.

Couldn’t anymore bear the weight of the full gallons, I, together with my same-aged cousin Mario immediately went to our grandma’s house, which was a few meters away from the hill foot, to deliver the fetched water. Seeing our grandma cooking in the kitchen, we ran towards her and vied who will be the first to kiss her hands, head to the room to change clothes after her instructions, took and light the oil lamps from the old aparador and brought them to the table for dinner while constantly playing the lamps by crossing our fingers atop the flame back and forth until black soot accumulated our fingers.

After the meal, grandma returned the food into the kettle. “Ibahaw ni ni Ester,” grandma uttered. With a curious mind, “Nganong ibahaw mana ni Nang Ester la?” I asked. “Dili diay kita mokaon ana ugma la?”

“Dong, basta naa gani ma-sobra nga pagkaon magabii, ato ning ibahaw sa buntis aron di mapan-os,” lola replied. Later I knew that our neighbour Nang Ester was a month pregnant. Off we went to the room to rest and called it a day. All I see was darkness after my lola blew the lamp light. The surrounding was so quite except the occasional humming of the crickets and other nocturnal creatures. This was the first day of my summer stay in my lola’s house.

The rays of the morning sun passing through the window awakened me as it touches my face. My grandma wasn’t there anymore except my cousin. I got up and ran to the window. The morning was so bright. The barrio folks were already working. I can already see the farmers plowing the rice fields with their carabaos. The merry sound of the kids yelling from the river afar, the thuds of the laundrywomen’s palo-palo and the splashes of the waters were slightly audible from my position. And the verdant hill on the side was just a perfect compliment of the entire scene. Suddenly, my feet became excited to join those kids playing in the river.

And after breakfast, there I was together with my cousin. Together with the other kids, we sprinted to the green plains and played dakpanay after taking a bath. We ran and chased one another under the scorching heat of the sun and finally climbed the hill with all our energy. Riding the coconut’s palwa, we slid down the slope on top the dried coconut leaves until our butts become hot due to friction. After our energy was exhausted, we went home carrying fire woods. On late afternoon, we fetched water from a natural water source, locally known as tubod on the hill top and played over and over again. Days passed and these were the typical activities of most children in the place.

One late morning when we were shocked by a shocking news that Nong Yupi’s feet were severely swollen that it made him unable to walk. It was just a small bruise until it worsened. The scattering news further stated that according to the tambalan, he accidentally stepped on a di-ingon-nato on the hill. That was why grandma told us to be careful in going to the hill especially during noontime and on late afternoons at around six because the hill was then renowned to be dwelled by di-ingon-nato’s. As a kid, I was scared upon hearing that but then, the feeling vanished few minutes after that I became so enthusiastic enough to climb the hill and look for guavas.

I was on the hill side the next day gathering some dried lukay for lola which will be used for cooking lunch. Later I heard noises of kids playing on top of the hill which I then presumed my friends. So enticed to join the play, I left the dried coconut leaves to the place where I was and ran to the hill top. I was bedazzled upon reaching the summit for I did not find even a single kid playing on the top. But I was certain that the noises were coming from the top of the hill where we usually play. So I ran down and homed. That was my first strange encounter on that hill and I kept it to myself.

The unusual happenings on the hill was followed a couple of days after when my friends and I went to the hill top to fetch water. It was too early to go home so we spent few minutes climbing the guava trees nearby. We became oblivious of the time until one of our friends fell from the branch and hurt his ankle. It seemed like somebody pushed him from his place but he was alone playing on the other tree. Because of it, that friend wasn’t anymore with us during our play especially when we climb the hill.

Days passed by and midsummer came. It was the entire town fiesta. The people were so busy in entertaining visitors and in attending to the typical household chores brought about by the celebration. Even though it was a remote place but there was a disco on the fiesta’s eve. The folks were partying and dancing like nobody’s watching.

The normal days resumed after the annual celebration. The evening after the fiesta, I was awakened by a faint sound of a party – like a disco. It was around midnight. I thought the celebration was over but I wonder why there was still a disco that night.

The next morning I asked my lola if there was a disco last night. “Wala’y disco gabii dong oy,” she replied. “Pero diha man lage to murag ga-disco gabii la,” I insisted. “Ay ang mga di-ingon-nato to dong. Nagdisco pud silag ilaha, pista tingali pud nila. Nakisabay nato,” lola said.

I asked some of our neighbours if we have similar encounter last night and it was a yes. A week passed and I was thinking that some creatures which were not like ours, locally known as di-ingon-nato, did really exist. But as a kid, it meant nothing to me until one afternoon, almost six when our grandma told us to fetch water and off we went to the hill. My cousin was ahead of me so when I reached there; he was already filling his gallons using the coconut shell. When it was my turn, “Tabi po, tabi po,” I said respectfully. I was shocked when we reached the hill foot. My cousin suddenly stopped and cried. He was still ahead of me so I stopped and advanced to where he was and asked what happened. To my big fright when I saw my cousin’s mouth was deformed. I did not know what to do so we head home and approached our grandma for what had happened.

“Ginoo ko nimo bataa ka. Wa ba diay ka ma-nabi pagkabo nimo. Kahibaw naman ka anang dapita nga taw-an man na diha, ” lola reprimanded. From that moment, my fear started to consume me. We brought my cousin to the tambalan the next morning to find a cure.

“Gisagpa man ka ug di-ingon-nato dong. Nakita naho ang tubod. Dihay di-ingon-nato nga naka-una nimo adto unya nanapaw ka,” the tambalan informed us. “Wala ka nanabi sa dihang niadto ka didto?” the tambalan appended. My cousin just shook his head. After some hurim-hurim the tambalan made to my cousin, the tambalan said that my cousin need to go to the tubod to express an apology to that somebody whom he’d hurt.

We went to the hill top a day after to abide to what the tambalan said. The hill still looked the same. Its picturesque landscape covered with green grasses, shrubs and scattered coconut trees and the bird’s eye view of the barrio were just so breathtakingly beautiful. The tubod was still bountiful with potable spring water and the guava trees naearby were standing still.

After my cousin said sorry, we went home. My grandma took time to share to us some stories of the hill. Happenings those were usually unusual. Long before, grandma said that the hill was their meeting place of my deceased grandfather. They spent every afternoon at the hill top to talk about their future, their family and their dreams. On those moments, my lolo would hear a sound of crying lady or sometimes a laughter of a woman which my grandma would not. They bore a baby boy after their wedding. There was one time when my grandma brought along her baby now twelve months old to the hill to fetch water. She then let her baby sat on the plain rock while she was doing her job. She was alarmed a couple of minutes after when her baby was crying out loud. So once she was finished, they went home and still the baby was still weeping until they reached the house. After spending some time comforting the tot, she noticed that the child’s reproductive organ was swollen. With great worry, they went to the tambalan to seek help and they found out that the baby was circumcised by a di-ingon-nato.

According to grandma, her husband then was a tuba gatherer and he used to go to the hill for the coconut trees. There came a time when her husband got severely sick. They also found out that my lolo was likened by a di-ingon-nato. So after my lolo recovered, my lola directed her husband to stop his work as a tuba gatherer. Lola said that these di-ingon-nato’s were classified into two – puti and itom. The white ones or the puti were the good creatures and the blacks or the itom were the bad ones. My lola further said that they were not only the ones who have strange encounters on the hill but also some of the barrio people.

While lola was narrating, I couldn’t help but to gape from astonishment and fear. I couldn’t imagine things like these did exist but it did. Long before until now, the mystery of the hill still remained. That the di-ingon-nato’s or engkanto’s were existent and they were residing on a city which was the hill top.

The span of summer time soon ended and my vacation was over. The memories I had in this place would still linger on my mind and on my heart as I journey for life. This time I made it a point that there’s nothing in believing. The existence of some creatures, the unusual encounters of the hill and its mystery, the horrifying stories and all the memories of mine of the hill will always be a reminiscence of my unforgettable childhood years.