A Little Girl’s Gripping and Magical Story – 25

A little girl's gripping and magical story. Baykoy series.
Literary Fiction/Epistolary/Drama/Fantasy

A little girl's gripping and magical story. Baykoy Series.

Baykoy and The Only Something

This is a gripping a magical tale of a little Filipino girl who goes by an endearing nickname, Baykoy.

The story is narrated through the heart-convulsing letters of a woman to her niece, detailing her extraordinary childhood experiences.

Written by

J.J. Ireneo

The Enchanting Spirit – Part Three

Part Three

Age: Six years old.

Year: 1985.

— indomitable —

Dear Sage,

“A good friend is waiting for you somewhere,” she whispered.

“Where?’ I asked.

“Somewhere closeby.”

“Ooh really?”

“If you follow the silent voice,” she said, “it would take you there.”

“Ooh really?” I replied.

“Goodbye, baykoy.” She hugged me tight.

“No!!!” I cried as hard as my energy could fly.

“I will always keep you in me.” She kissed me on the forehead.

“No!!!” I went hysterical, screaming. “No!!! Angeline, no!!! Don’t leave me!!! No!!!”


Grandma and grandpa were in panic, struggling to keep me still. All the kids were around us, witnessing another disturbing spectacle that only I could pull off.

The blustering cry, the violent rage… I could even take on grandma and grandpa’s strong arms that always marveled me.

They said I was so little, so tiny, so fragile… Not anymore!

I didn’t know where my tough muscles had come from, but I could slam a chair and break it to pieces.

There were kicks, punches, smacks… a lot of mighty blows… thrown… everywhere… all over…!

Terrified kids dashed away. Grandma and grandpa were still in despair to restrain me.

I hurt them. I might have also hurt some kids.

But I was uncontrollable. Too much power. Too much rage. Too much grief.

All the most poignant emotions were holding me. They came all together, smashed out into one great madness.

I couldn’t contain myself either. I had to let them all out. Something even more powerful than me was pulling me to defy a crowd. Big or small, it wouldn’t matter. It had to be done.

By all means, it had to be done.

Nothing could stop me.

No one could over power me.

It just had to be done.

“Everybody, pray! Pray!” grandma ordered.

In chorus, they recited the invocation prayer. Some kids’ voices were trembling. Others sounded courageous. Some were sniveling.

As they prayed, grandma sang, ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’… While grandpa’s sturdy arms were wrapped around me.

My physical energy died out.

I settled in grandpa’s arms, panting, moaning.

He kissed me on the forehead. He massaged my hands and feet.

The prayer went on and on. While grandma’s singing jammed along.

My chest was clearing up. My mind was soothing out.

My body was strained, and in pain.

The prayer kept on going. Grandma’s singing was cooling down the air.

The air of rage. The air of grief. The air of death.

The air of deep sadness in my tiny heart.

It was still inside of me. I knew it was still in here somewhere.

Just taking a rest. Just understanding it more.

I didn’t think deep sadness would give me disturbing memories… as if life never deserved me…

… at all.

You are life.

You are the life that your heart prays for.

Never waste it away on rage.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

School had been dismissed early on. It should have made the kids happy. But no. Concerns were drawn in their faces instead.

Deep concerns.

They looked at me with empathy, care… and even a little slice of affection. Even the third and fourth graders were in woeful dumps.

They patted me in the back, pressed my shoulders, touched my arms, stroked my hair, and reminded me to pray. Gently and lovingly.

It moved my heart. But I was too weak to respond.

Grandpa was carrying me in his arms, and I was resting my face on his shoulder. I felt wobbly, dizzy and awfully sick.

There was pain stinging all over me. Prickling into my muscles, my veins, everywhere.

The pulsating jabs were wretched enough that could land me in a hospital… or somewhere else soon.

I had also become sensitive to light and sound.

We got home, and grandpa put me in bed right away.

They checked on my arms and legs. My skin.

They found cuts, wounds and scratches.

I realized what I did was the real dangerous game.

Only it wasn’t a game.

It was… It was… It was…

I still couldn’t figure out what power came over me. All I knew was all the darkest emotions wallowing in my heart had to explode.

My deep sadness. Grief. Feeling alone.

Not having a good friend. Not being able to play with other kids.

My good friend, my one and only good friend, had just died.

Then there was Jiji’s peaceful and pale face.

There was me sitting in the funeral van.

Not knowing when family would come for a visit.

Though grandma and grandpa were the greatest family I had ever had. The greatest. The best ones I could have ever found… But I just didn’t know why… it would never be enough. Even their immeasurable love could never pacify my wishes at all.

Nothing would be enough for a little girl like me, I thought.

The angels betrayed me. Now heaven wanted to make me understand.

Understand what?

I had seen life beyond. Angeline had shown it to me.

But it wasn’t enough yet. Something was still missing.

And I knew she was still around, looking out. Making sure I would get through it myself.

But how?

Tick tock tick tock!

The wall clock had made its prestige known again.

Now my entire body already felt like being wangled away by time.

How many more days? Weeks? Birthdays?

Did I still have enough time left?

Did I still have enough time to live through life just to meet a good friend who would stay longer?

Would I ever be happy?

When would it all be enough?

When would I stop wishing?

When would I stop hanging on to magic?

When would I stop grieving?

When would I stop feeling and thinking?

When would I be…

… just another kid around?

Never overthink.

It’s the culprit.

It’s fine when you’re still a kid.

For magic happens that you can never trade.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

Grandpa left. I heard he was going to see our church pastor. One who was close to our family.

I was still in bed, still in pain. Grandma had just treated my cuts, wounds and scratches with guava leaves.

She was caressing my hair, massaging my hands and feet.

“Would you like to eat now?” she asked.

I shook my head ‘no’.

She looked into my eyes. I knew where this was going to lead to.

I turned away. I was too drained to even open my mouth.

I felt the house.

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

I was just a little girl. Why did I feel like I had already lived long enough?

Sting… sting… sting…

I was just a little girl. To realize how life would treat good hearts.

Silence. Deafening silence.

I remembered Kidlat and Kuwago. Where were they?

Aaahhh…” an angelic voice sang into my ear.

I stayed still.

Grandma kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll make you your favorite vegetable stew.” Then she left the room.

Aaahhh…” There it was again. But why did it sound like a soft cry now?

I couldn’t respond. My feelings were telling me I didn’t have to, anyway.

What was it? Who was it?

It didn’t sound like Angeline anymore, though. It sounded like a group of beautiful people singing together.

Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…

It irritated me. I moaned.

Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I screamed.

Grandma sprung her way back right away. “What happened?”

“Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…” I emulated it.

“What?” Grandma was stunned.

“Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…” I repeated.

She cuddled me tightly. “What is it?” she asked, shaking.

Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…” the singing trumpeted in.

“Shut up!” I yelled out, addressing the air.

Grandma plunged in bed and made me nestle in her arms. She was already hyperventilating.

“All right, tell me,” she said. “What do you hear?”

“Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…” I emulated the singing again.

“Is that what you hear?” she asked.

I nodded ‘yes’.

“Does it sound like a church choir?”

I nodded ‘yes’.

“Is that all you hear?”

I nodded ‘yes’.

“It must be the angels saying they’re really sorry,” she said.

It broke my heart. I had the power to respond all of a sudden. “Ooh really?”

“Yes,” she replied, teary-eyed.

“I don’t believe them anymore,” I muttered.

“You should,” she said. “‘Cause then it would all go away. You’d be fine.”

“No, I wouldn’t be fine at all,” I replied. “‘Cause they always give me bad memories to remember by. They don’t know how to make me happy. So I’ll never forgive them no matter what they do. I won’t know how, anyway.”

“Do you wanna know what really happened to the little boy?”


“Grandpa was the little boy. The young lad forgave him, and they became best friends to this day.”

“Ooh really?”

Forgiveness is a joyous peace.

Give it with ease.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

Grandma and I had lunch.

I was famished. I needed some of my energy back. So I slammed a huge bowl of vegetable stew right down to the last drip. Along with a plate of rice and some boiled cassava dipped in brown sugar.

Kidlat and Kuwago also joined us in the kitchen. To gorge on their meals in the corner.

“Do you still hear them?” grandma asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Would you tell me what happened earlier today?”


I couldn’t. Something was telling me it was supposed to be a special secret that I should only keep to myself. If I were to reveal it, I would lose its meaning.

The instinct didn’t come from me directly. It came from somewhere else. Perhaps, from the silent voice in my gut.

But it was how I understood it.

“Are you still in pain?” grandma went on.

“A little,” I said.

“Did you see Angeline?”


“Did she say something important to you?”


“What was it?”

“I can’t say. It’s only for me to keep.”

She sighed. “The pastor is gonna ask you a lot of questions. We’d really love it if you’d cooperate. Okay?”

“I won’t talk to him,” I said.

“You need to.”

“I don’t need it! He won’t get it! No one will understand!”

“He will!”

“He won’t! No one will! If he could bring Angeline and Jiji back, then I’d talk to him!”

She sat back and took a moment to contemplate. “Heaven’s already got them. They can’t come back anymore.”

“Well, heaven is bad,” I replied. “All the angels are bad! And I’ll never forgive them! They always make me sad, anyway! Why was I even born in the first place? I sat in a funeral van! And I wanted to die, too! I wanna die I wanna die I wanna die! I wanna die now! So I’ll never forgive them! Not ever!”

Aaahhh… Aaahhh… Aaahhh…” the singing intruded.

“Shut up!” I screamed, looking up.

Kidlat and Kuwago barked, weirded out.

“Do you hear it again?” Grandma panicked.

I cried, “I wanna die now!”

Grandma took me under her arms and kissed me on the forehead. “You’ll live longer… A lot longer. ‘Cause you’ve got a strong spirit to get through all this.”

Now I dreaded talking to the pastor.

What for? What questions would he ask me? And what magic did he have to make me feel better?

I had to ask Angeline to help me through it.

Or I could be unruly. Unkind. Disrespectful.

I had already been unruly, unkind and disrespectful.

Yet grandma and grandpa still loved me. With all the love that they could give.

But no one could ever do something about it. No one could heal it all.

It had already been given. It had been done. It had been lived.

It was mine. Mine alone. To keep.

All the love given.

Is yours. Yours alone. To keep.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

Sting… sting… sting…

Late evening.

Grandpa had arrived, along with a pastor.

The pastor who appeared to be a complete stranger to me. I hadn’t seen him at church before. Not even in the old hometown.

He looked dapper, clean… intelligent, sophisticated… with a good smile. But there was something false in him. I didn’t even have to look into his eyes to feel it myself. I just had to stand away from him, and the winds would ascertain deceit straight into my instincts.

Though I could tell he didn’t mean any harm at all. He was here to do his duty.

And what kind of duty would that be? To ask me questions? To figure out if evil had taken over me? To make ghostly occurrences disappear?

Nothing evil had taken over. I was sure of it.

As for ghostly occurrences? Maybe.

But it was angelic and heavenly.

Ironic. Because I had grown a little hatred towards angels and heaven now.

They fixed him a cup of black tea and some snacks.

There was a reflective discussion on the front porch for a while. As I was waiting for the close interaction.

I was curious, too. Surprisingly, I was eager to find out what he could do. If he, indeed, had a bit of magic to show.

Though the ‘false’ spirit curling out of the vibes would still hit me like pay dirt.

Then I thought, oh, it was just an adult game. An adult make-believe. Something to help them through things.

Things like this. Unexplained. Mysterious. Spiritual.

I thought of Angeline’s present. I should just open it by the time I was ready enough to accept her sudden passing.

Along with the letter.

How could my lifelong friendship that only lasted for a day have impacted me this much?

Though as a six-year-old, anything that had shown me genuine love was already something magical… angelic and heavenly.

It was why it should last for a lifetime.

It deserved to last for a lifetime.

As life was supposed to work that way.

As it was how my heart whispered its truth to me.

A nagging feeling had punched the clock.

I closed my eyes to talk to Angeline in my mind. ‘Angeline, would you please do something to make him go away?’

I received a response. The silent voice spoke to me. For the first time, I could hear it clearly. ‘Play. Just play.’

Play. Play what? Which game?

A nice game. It would help me survive.

Something nice. In the midst of all pretenses.

Two false players. In a spiritual quest.

Against my own truths. Against my own freedom.

I shouldn’t have been disturbed.

Let’s play.

I was ready.

Who would win?

A genuine love is always magical,

angelic and heavenly.

That’s all it’ll ever be.

The only something.

— Indomitable —