K I t c h e n M u s I c

“Happy Halloween!” , my cousin said aloud as to break down the silence filtering every corner of the room, as quiet as the dead.
I remembered one incident back before the Halloween days are fast approaching. It was those times when everyone in my grandfather’s house were talking about my late uncle’s ghost roaming around and making noises in the kitchen during the wee hours of the night. At that time, it was just three months after his burial and almost all, even the neighbors, trusted friends and relatives found it ghastly to sleep overnight inside the house.
After my lolo and uncle died sequencingly, the house was believed to be haunted for the whole neighborhood. My mother and I never indulged ourselves into those things due to the fact that we had not yet seen or felt any unnatural sensation.
But one afternoon, I got so carried away by our I.C.T. prelim that I didn’t notice the time. It was all too late for me to find a vehicle for a safety ride home. I was feeling a bit edgy and I waited beside the commercial building, hoping against all odds that I will still see even a tiny speckle of a vehicle, but my hopes faltered because there was nothing to lurk along the empty lines of the road.
Moreover, I had no other choice to pick upon. There was a blackout at that moment so I decided to go to my lolo’s house and promised to myself to stay there for just one night. I will go home the day after and as early as possible. Besides, I had no other option.
So I was dragging my feet unto that so-called creepy house and when I stepped inside, it surely sent an eerie feeling climbing unto my bones. I have been to that house before, as a matter of fact, I grew up there. However, it seemed so strange and spooky. Anyway as I have said, I had no other option but to stay.
We were only three at that time – Uncle Tata, Manoy Owing and me. We divided the corners of the second floor. Since the house was rebuilt and refurnished in some manner after the death of my beloved lolo, there were only two big bedrooms left. My uncle pointed me to the largest one, near the stairs. Below that room, down to the first floor, was the kitchen where the rumored noises were heard. Uncle Tata made himself comfortable in the other room where my late lolo stayed when he was still alive; while Manoy Owing spread the “banig” and laid down some pillows and blanket to cover his body from the chilling coldness of the midnight breeze. He was overlooking at the veranda.
Considering the situation, I just left the door open and let the minute light of the single candle illumine the semi dark room. Instead of opening all the windows for fresh air, I close them all without even caring if the humidity inside the room will kill me. Before finally deciding to close my eyes, I spoke a small prayer pleading to God for a safe sleep.
Then it was all “ZzZZZZZzzzzz” – safe, sound and peaceful sleep possessed our bodies and mind, giving us a rightful rest at last, but not until 4:30 am approximately. I can’t help but be awaken by the disturbing and irritating noise coming from the kitchen. Kettles, ladles and pots were clanging, all contributing a sound. Curiosity aroused inside of me. It was like someone was cooking down beneath, as if preparing for a breakfast.
Who’s down there? Is it Manoy Owing? Is Manoy Owing cooking for breakfast? I got up and peered in to see Manoy Owing and to my great relief, I saw his blanket crumpled. He was not in his bed. I went back to my bed, unfortunately the sleep won’t come. Instead of forcing myself to sleep again, I made up my mind to go downstairs and help Manoy Owing. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” , I thought to myself while heading downstairs. The noise as it seemed to be, couldn’t be stopped. To me it was like an orchestra played by magnificent musicians but what I didn’t know was the terrifying truth.
As I moved my feet to the last step, I turned my head and peered in towards the kitchen. In an instant the noise faded. But I knew more, it abruptly vanished like a vigilant burglar. Why? Nervousness purged throughout my whole human anatomy, sending a chill to every veins and I could almost hear my heartbeat going faster per second, evidently racing towards every breath that I could catch from that eerie atmosphere, and causing me to become frantic.
I stood on that last step like a stone on an airless and windless dessert for while, as if waiting for something, someone to come and wake up my senses. The place could not deny it; neither was the time. Honestly speaking, I was afraid and scared from my head down to the soles of my feet. The hairs on my nape, arms and legs stood straight statically and I knew they were approaching me with a million goose bumps. To clarify all those, I continued to peek to the kitchen and to my great horror I saw darkness, blinding darkness. There was no light? How could someone mess up with the kitchen if the lights are not turned on for his/her aid and own purpose?
That was enough! Without hesitation or any doubt, I ran with fear, anger and claustrophobia, mixed homogeneously. I was racing both for my life and the devil’s soul. When I reached the second floor, I saw Manoy Owing lying unconsciously on the “banig”. It was just after that incident that I realized how wrong I was. I haven’t seen Manoy Owing lately because he was covered with a blanket all over his body and to make matters worst, his sleeping position was that of the fetus. He was just there all those times and he never went downstairs!
Coaxing myself with all the comforts that the blanket could offer, I tried to regain my usual heartbeat and the breathing I had lost for quite some time. I didn’t open either one of my eyelids and I prisoned myself in a sleep that won’t come though I had pleadingly invited for it to bound me in its spell.
Morning knocked up and lifted me in such a great salvation. Phew! Boy, was I so scared!