Baykoy – 30: More on the Life Warning Cycles Learned in the Realm of Death, Emmy Lou

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 and 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 Special Breath of Death – Part Two

Part Three

Age: Six years old.

Year: 1985.

— indomitable —

Dear Sage,

“Do you want to stay or go back?” Jiji asked.

In this consciousness, I could sense my freedom to make my own judgments and resolutions.

I was also aware of:

Having a physical self in the life that I had come to know.

My grief. My deep sadness. My wishes.

Grandma and grandpa’s immense love and care.

Loved ones living in the city.

Old, recent and present memories. The good, the bad, the most vicious and the magical.

But then…

… would he be able to foresee my future?

“No,” he said.

He explained:

At birth, humans were born with their own power. The power to feel and think. Using this power alone would give them the opportunity to validate right and wrong. They were responsible for their own actions, and how these actions would determine their character. Their character would then be transpired in the heart, the mind and the spirit. Thus, the warning cycles had existed as the ultimate divine law.

Angels could only foresee the dangers that would occur in the nearest future.

All the good felt would reveal itself. All the bad thoughts would also reveal themselves in due time.

Once in a moral dilemma, an instinct had the answer. Either I would claim it or dismiss it. Regardless, the result would be earned.

An innocent bliss was an accomplished good. It must be kept.

Knowledge was either an accomplished good or an evil consumption. Whichever I would dare to choose, a consequence would seek its redemption.

Birth was a privilege. It came with a life that only I could accomplish. If I would allow my fellows to have full control of it, then I would lose this life. Thus, disrespecting my privilege.

Fellows had no power over me. All the good received must be valued. All the bad received must be denied. All the good given must come from the heart. All the bad given would come from the mind. A spirit would then reciprocate its weight according to its nature.

In the divine realm of death, all the truths would be lived, all the lies would be justified, all the questions would lead to another quest, all the answers would be satisfied and all the emotions, both given and received, would be sustained.

“Can you see us?” I asked.

“We live with you,” he replied. “Our existence is in consciousness.”

“In our consciousness?”

“In the consciousness of the accomplished good.”

He further explained:

A soul with accomplished good was meant to lead angels for eternity.

A soul with pure innocence was meant to do an angel’s job.

A soul with evil wisdom was meant to be reborn to accomplish good things while enduring suffering. It would be given three life cycles. Once all failed, it would vanish by itself forever without mercy at hand.

“So would you like to stay or go back?” he asked me again.

How you make something good out of your present life is a privilege.

Do good. Be good.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

“What would happen if I stayed?” I asked.

“Then you would be with me and Angeline to do the angel’s job,” he replied.

A love test. A love dilemma. A love choice.

The divine realm had to grind my good heart to get through this. Me, as consciousness. Me, approaching death. Me, as just another kid around.

I was six years old. I was in grief. I was in deep sadness.

In my tormenting mind, I wanted to die.

For I couldn’t bear the thoughts…

… of me sitting in a funeral van, Jiji’s peaceful and pale face, losing a good friend, kids not wanting to play with me, not seeing loved ones.

How long would it last?

And then I thought of grandma and grandpa’s immense love and care… the stories that I had read, both good and bad… Reynan’s good-hearted company… the letters that I had written, both with a shiny pencil and carved in my memory…

Angeline’s letter that I was yet to read. Her present that I was yet to open.

Rescuing Angel and making it up to her.

Kidlat and Kuwago looking out for me all the time.

The great reasons for my grief and deep sadness. The great reasons for the good that was yet to be accomplished. The great reasons for being born.

Should I stay… or go back?

“Can I talk to Angeline, too?” I asked.

“Her consciousness still needs to stay around there until the final goodbye,” Jiji replied.

Baykoy,” grandma’s cry soothed in.

Baykoy, baykoy… It’s time to go baykoy… Here goes the joy… Call them ahoy… Baykoy… Baykoy, baykoy… Can’t be destroyed… Woohoy…” grandpa’s singing chimed along.

I love you very much, Jiji.

I love you very much, too.

The yellow blinding light slowly transported me into…

… a hospital bed.

Distressed women were fluttering around me, with medical gears. Their faces gleamed with good hearts and worries. And they were dressed in bright white uniforms.

“We got her back!” one woman shouted.

“Oh, thank god,” another woman seconded.

One woman felt my forehead. She had a pretty smile. “You’ll be okay now. We got you… We got you…”

I looked over to my side, and there was a fancy machine priding itself in the entire room. My nose was covered with a ventilator mask, apart from all the other lunged ‘wonderworking’ devices.

What kind of flu did I have, anyway? How could it be that deadly?

My eyes felt torched. The biting cold was still stinging. The ventilator mask aided my breathing.

On top of it all, now the fractured bones felt like the sharp-cut villains.

Where could grandma and grandpa be?

When would I get out of here?

Oh, it was Angeline’s funeral tomorrow. Twinge.

Terrible twinge.

Yet I came back.

After all.

An angel’s test is for you to kill the beast.

The beast in you.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

Did it really happen?

Meeting Jiji in my realm of death. With all the information that had been thrusted right into my head.

Heart. Into my heart.

And spirit. Very important.

The room was quiet, with a lethargic sprinkle in the air.

I closed my eyes, and a kind glint welcomed me in.

Not pitch dark anymore. No sign of another spiritual encounter either.

I was at peace. I was calm. I was just another kid around.

For the first time, I swept into the sweetest sleep. As I imagined grandma’s hypnotic lullaby harmonizing with my feelings.

I knew.

I was alive. I was loved. I was a little girl.

I claimed my prestige.

The prestige of being just another kid around.

I knew. Oh, I knew.

Time floated by… and one of the women in uniform checked on me. She also surveyed the machine and other devices. She jotted down notes, then held my hand.

We looked at each other. She smiled at me.

I wanted to smile back, but I couldn’t.

I wanted to ask her a lot of questions, but… still impossible.

“You’re a miracle,” she said, then left the room.

Time floated by again… and there they were.

Grandma and grandpa were beside me.

They held my hand and kissed me on the forehead.

I knew.

I was alive. I was loved. I was a little girl.

Grandma and grandpa’s little girl.

We’re gonna be fine,” grandma said. “It’ll all be fine.”

“We’ll grab some ice cream before we go home,” grandpa teased.

Grandma poked him in the shoulder. “She can’t have ice cream yet. Quit it.”

Grandpa winked at me, smiling. “Chocolate?”

I shook my head ‘no’.

“All the flavors?” he chuckled.

I nodded ‘yes’.

He turned to grandma, with a devious look. “She’s having all the flavors now.”

“Quit it!” she replied.

More time floated by… and grandpa came back alone.

He sat beside the bed, then sunk into his thoughts. I couldn’t tell whether he was in a silent prayer or simply mulling over something. But he was in a brooding silence. In deep sadness.

In grief, perhaps. “The young lad has just… passed away.”

The young lad was…


“Right here,” grandpa said. “In this hospital.”

My good heart consoled him. Then it got me into thinking.

Not the warning cycles. But the young lad’s life. How he faced it alone most of the time. Just him and his small pineapple farm.

Did his kids even come to visit him? Did they know he was already gone?

Did they even care for him? Even just for a little while?

I looked at grandpa, and I made a promise to the heart and the spirit.

I would stay home with him. I would stay home with them.

They gave me a home. They gave me all the love and care in the world.

The love and care of the accomplished good.

A promise gives an illusion.

Show heart and spirit through actions.

The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

Night floated by…

… and it was morning.

Was it Angeline’s funeral today? Or had I lost track of time? What happened to my memory?

My memory was fine. Yes, it had been in a zappy wonderland.

It was still lingering around magical encounters. Jiji. Angeline.


Was it today?

Or did the angels tweak it away?

I was ready to write another letter.

I was ready to do what the heart, my good heart, had set out for me to do.

I was ready to get out of here.

Yes, I was still stuck in the hospital bed. Feeling better now, and tempted to bust myself out.

Out of the machine, the ventilator mask and the rest of the wondermaking devices.

When would I be freed?

The familiar woman in uniform walked in, with a smile of a beautiful sunshine on her face. “How are you feeling, langga?”

She gave me an endearing nickname. Langga (– beloved –).

She did her routine check, and I was hoping I would be taken off the ventilator mask right about now.

It was time.

My throat had been rotten dry, my stomach was growling for food, and my back felt whipped.

My mind was already pleading for help.


My heart prayed for help.


My spirit sang for help.

It was time.

The instinct said so.


… she did it!

The ventilator mask, a goner!

“Time for breakfast,” she said, feeling my forehead. “Can you say hello?”

“H-hello,” I replied in a hoarse voice.

“Isn’t your nickname baykoy?”


She giggled. “It’s cute! My name’s Emmy Lou.”

It reminded me of Angeline’s best friend, Emily.

I smiled.

“I don’t know what they’ve got for breakfast,” she said, “but I hope it’s something yummy for you, though.”

I giggled.

“I’ve been working since we got you in,” she continued. “And it’s funny how you can’t put me to sleep yet after all that.”

“Ooh really?” I yelped, astounded.

She looked at me closely. “Really, really.”

I giggled some more.

She was young, with long hair tied in the back. Eyes, smile and hands… a good heart.

Who spoke into mine.

“Would you be mad at me if we’d still need to put this back on after breakfast?” she said.

“No,” I replied.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure, sure?”

“Sure, sure.”

And we shared a good laugh.

My first good laugh after a long, long time.

“And… would you be mad at me if I’d tell you not to go into the woods alone anymore?” she said.

“No,” I giggled.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure, sure?”

“Sure, sure!”

And it was true what my instinct said. It was beautiful sunshine, indeed.

As Angeline was saying her final goodbye today… I had already cried buckets of tears… to be freed.

One sure word.


The only something.

— Indomitable —

Dear Sage,

For Angeline,

Today you have to say your final goodbye.

I’m saying my final goodbye, too.

To my deep sadness.

Jiji said grief would never go away.

I understand.

And I can still talk to you in my good heart.

And we can still see each other in my dreams at night.

And we can still fly and sing way up high.

You will always be my first good friend.

And I will always remember how much you loved me.

Even just for a day.



Another letter that I had to carve in my memory for now.

Breakfast: green leafy vegetable soup, rice, and hot milk.

Grandma was feeding me. While grandpa was in quiet grief over the young lad’s passing.

“We’ll take the shortcut home,” grandpa said.

“No,” grandma replied. “We’ll see his family along the way.”

“Family? Like who? His kids? His kids? A little too late for that now… We’re taking the shortcut, and that’s that.”

“I hope the pineapples will be alright,” I said.

“They’ll be alright,” grandma muttered.

I wouldn’t want the same sad thing to happen to grandma and grandpa at all. I wouldn’t. I would have to die first before the world’s mind would rule over the heart and the spirit.

More time had floated by… and there she was again.

Emmy Lou. Doing her routine check. With a special present for me.

An old children’s book that I somehow recognized. It was just a different edition from the one we used to have in the old home.

Now I knew what it was.

It was a story about a little brother and a little sister. And it was the very first book that I would flip through here and there… everyday.

But now… since I could read and understand better… I would finally get to… delight in it… and the clever magic of a fairy tale.

“Your grandma and grandpa told me you love to read,” she said. “It was given to me by a godmother on my seventh birthday. I thought you might like it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it anymore?” I asked.

“I’m sure,” she replied.

“Sure, sure?”

“Sure, sure.”

A beautiful sunshine radiated inside the room… once again.

This hospital room. Where I almost took my last breath in.

Where good hearts saved me. Where Emmy Lou’s good heart had been shared with me for the first time.

Where I met my new friend. Where I said my final goodbye to my deep sadness.

Where Angeline said her final goodbye to me. Where I made a secret promise to grandma and grandpa.

Where bright and sunny days began.

Days had floated by… and I was ready to go home.

The knowing clock, my knowing clock, now had a life of its own.

A pleasant life of its own.

When it claimed my own prestige.

The prestige of being just another kid around.

The special breath of death had come with…

… a hopeful life found!

A beautiful sunshine can radiate anywhere with the good heart’s wish.

The only something.

— Indomitable —