“Swish! Swish! The waves were gently lapping the shore as he scrubbed the charcoal soot off 2 big cast iron pots.
“Go to the *baybay and clean these pots!” his father ordered. “The sand will help in cleaning them.”
“Why can’t I go and enjoy the other boys swimming in the sea instead?” he just murmured, fearing that any audible backtalk might spawn additional chores, if not a corporal punishment.
Wiping the occasional **sipon off his upper lip with the back of his hand, he continued rubbing the pots with handfuls of beach sand.
The sea had an anchored traditional Filipino fishing boat with outriggers. The tide being low, one outrigger was tilted high up the sea surface. The resourceful, local boys were using it as a jumping off platform, their cackling and the splashing reverberating throughout the beach.
“I’ll join you soon,” he mused, scraping the pots with doubled energy, his grin deepening his dimples.
He went home with spanking clean pots and rushed back to the beach.
He waded up to the boat, the water level only up to his neck. He climbed up and, like a tightrope walker, he balanced himself on the boat’s outrigger. Wasting no seconds, he jumped.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” he cheered as he surfaced, his laughter joining the cacophony that the other boys were creating. He continued jumping, the full sun darkening his brown skin.
“Huh?” he uttered right after the next jump. His flat feet couldn’t reach anymore the bottom of the sea. He turned toward the beach, tiptoeing on the sand to keep his face above water. The waves had already gotten closer to the houses on stilts which littered the beach. What was once a short wade now looked like a long watery distance for his short legs.
“The tide has rolled in!” he feared, the waves now cracking and roaring. “I’m going to drown!”
He made frantic, lateral flapping and paddling to raise his mouth above water, not knowing how to swim like the local boys. The resulting salty spray stung his eyes and irritated his nostrils. His breath became labored and rapid. With head tilted back, he was gulping some water as the waves rushed over his head.
His arms failing, his quick thinking made him float face up. His teary eyes squinted to avoid the direct sun overhead. He pushed his palms and feet against the water and with the help of the rolling waves, he made it to the shore.
He heaved a big sigh while struggling to get up, his coughing melding with nearby screams.
“My son, my son!” wailed a woman as she cradled a lifeless body that was washed ashore. It was the littlest of the local boys who, earlier, watched him clean the pots, expressing interest in joining the boys too.
He felt lucky, but sad as he watched a crowd gathering around the grieving woman.
“It could have been my mother and I!” he reflected as his septuagenarian arms and legs tried to complete the 1-mile swim at the gym, feeling more comfortable now in the deeper, once much-feared 7-foot deep lane.
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*baybay /bī’bī/ = beach; seaside; sea shore
**sipon = nasal mucus
