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Flower Necklaces
By Kit A. Nadado

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THE GIRL Four more to go and the girl would be done. The girl looked at the remaining pieces of white flower necklaces in her hands and sighed. The day had been good so far. A few more garlands to sell and perhaps she could go home early today and watch her favorite drama from their neighbors window. She made an extra five pesos today for cleaning a car. She smiled. The man in the gas station was nice enough to let her help out cleaning the car. She took her five pesos to the newsstand and bought a poster of Katrina Padilla, her idol, the primetime queen of television, the star of her favorite drama show. She felt and patted the folded poster safely tucked inside her pocket. Her sister would die of envy. She sighed again. She crossed the street towards the church counting the ring of the bells and anxious to find out the time. It was five in the afternoon. The sky was cloudy today in Manila, playing tricks with the peoples minds as it threatened rain. The church, with its semi-peeled, semi-brown ivory paint loomed like a weary sentinel, casting a dark shadow over the dehydrated fish vendors sitting outside its walls. Behind the church were towering buildings of maroon, gray and blue, making the church look like a midget among bullies. The girl got to the other side of the street and wiped her forehead with the back of her other hand. Her face glistened with sweat against the newly lit headlights of each passing car. Remembering the time, she decided to hasten her pace. Thirty more minutes and her drama program would begin. She remembered well. Todays episode would be intense. Katrina would be revealing her feelings to Piolo, the handsome millionaire who she secretly loves. The thought excited her. She sighed. A slight breeze passed through the acacia trees surrounding the church,

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sending a cloud of dust from its leaves to the crowd below. The girl felt the breeze and it cooled her for a bit. A fish vendor sneezed and wiped his hands to his pants. The girl kept walking. She did not mind the dust at all. She gritted her teeth while she walked and tasted the bitter texture of the dust. The old street lights began to light up, getting ready for the night. casting a pale yellow light to the sidewalks and revealing piles of trash at the bottom of overloaded trash cans. The girls delicate frame glowed orange under the spotlight. She looked even skinnier under the light. She ran a little faster, coins jingling in her pockets, the jolly chorus of the busy street cheering her along. The street by the church was now crammed with people, mostly students and employees from the nearby factory going home. Jeepney drivers started to pile up at the side of the streets muttering curses to fellow drivers who drove past them. People sprinted to the jeepneys direction, desperate to go home. Some students with oversized bags climbed to the jeepneys roofs and hung there for dear life as its driver raced with through the night. The girl joined the crowd walking towards the church catching a whiff of day old armpits. She spat on the sidewalk and thought about the television show and Katrina Padilla. Unlike these stinky people, Katrina might have smelled heavenly. The girl smiled. Someday, she would grow up to be like Katrina. The girl could not possibly bear to miss todays episode, yet she could not afford to go home without selling the remaining necklaces. Her father would be mad and might not let her watch the drama show. Last week, the girl and her sister limped for three days because of sore lashes on their legs. They sold half of the flower necklaces but it was not enough for him. Her fathers leather belt was unforgiving, especially when he was drunk. The girl decided not to risk it.

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Four more flowers to sell. She sprinted, her heart beating faster. She sprinted past the shops and the noisy fish vendors scattered outside the church, her thin flip flops slapping hard against her heels. She came to a cafe at the corner of the street and decided to catch her breath. Out of curiosity, she looked through the glass and her mouth dropped open.

KATRINA Katrina Padilla sat inside the shabby cafe, at the corner of the street, playing with her coconut cake. Except for a couple chatting on the farthest seats, the caf was almost empty. The place did not look much but she was contented. She felt at home. Somehow, this place was a lot better than the TV studio or the pictorial rooms her producers take her into. Katrina shuddered. The thought of those places seem to suffocate her. She sighed. Katrina scanned the caf. A few black and white pictures of actresses, long dead, lined the cream colored walls of the caf. An old jukebox was playing The Supremes at the far end of the place, blinking red and blue lights to the quivering ceiling fans. Please lock me away and dont allow the day. The music drifted sleepily from the machine. At least nobody seemed to know who she was in her shawl and sunglasses. So far, so good. She felt great getting away from work and pressure. Katrina closed her eyes, letting the soft melodies playing on the jukebox sing to her like a lullaby. Here inside where I hide my loneliness. She played with the bracelet with her other hand. Ah lola!, she thought, becoming sad all of a sudden. If only her lola was here. If only she was alive. She

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would know what to do. She would know what to say. Her grandma lola had always given her great advice. Now, Katrina was angry because she left. She clasped the bracelet firmly, feeling the texture of the beads. This was her lolas favorite bracelet. She sighed. Somewhere outside the shop, a car horn blasted. Katrina opened her eyes. She glanced around the caf and saw the couple on the farthest seats locked in an awkward kiss. She grimaced and looked outside. Standing right outside was a girl holding some cheap looking flower necklaces, staring intently at her. I dont care what they say; I wont stay in a world without love. The girl was wearing a dirty oversized shirt with several patches on the sleeves. The girls shirt reached her knees, hiding her pants. Katrina guessed that the girl might be eleven or twelve. Beggars, Katrina thought to herself. Slightly annoyed by the girls presence, Katrina waved her hand hoping the girl would go away. The girl did not seem to understand what Katrina meant. The girl remained fixed on her spot. Feeling more and more uncomfortable, Katrina finally decided to leave.

THE GIRL The girl could not believe it. Katrina Padilla! The girl could never be wrong. It was Katrina. At first, the sunglasses and the shawl made the girl doubt, but as she watched Katrina more, her doubts vanished. What a day! Katrina Padilla looked even more beautiful in person. She could not help but stare at the actress, observing every movement the actress made. How graceful, how elegant Katrina was. The girl stood there transfixed and in awe of her idol, the primetime queen of television, the star of her favorite drama show. She still could not believe her luck. Katrina Padilla. Gosh! Her sister would have a fit. The wonderful Katrina. The gorgeous Katrina. The girl somehow snapped from her trance when she noticed that the actress stood, picked up her bag and started

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walking away from the table. Feeling elated, the girl reached for the poster in her pocket and decided to wait for the actress by autograph. the caf door with hopes of getting an

KATRINA Katrina Padilla tried to pay for the coconut cake. Apparently, the cashier recognized her and with shaking hands and an awkward smile, told her that the food was free in exchange for an autograph. Katrina walked towards the door annoyed and feeling foolish. She pushed the door open and hastily stepped outside. It was sudden. Katrinas bag spilled on the sidewalk as she collided with a small figure by the door. It was the girl with the flower necklaces. Cursing, she picked up her stuff. The girl must have stuttered sorry a million times and even attempted to pick up some of Katrinas stuff to help. Katrina slapped the girls dirty hand. The girl turned red in shame. Go away, Katrina told the girl. The girl did not move, looking confused. Go away, Katrina repeated. Stop bothering me. The girl stood motionless on the pavement, her feet seemed stuck. Feeling that her day was ruined, Katrina hastily walked into her car and drove off.

THE GIRL The girl looked at the flower necklaces sitting idly on the sidewalk, orphaned and

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abandoned. The lamps on the streets lit up and casted a sick yellow light on the crushed petals. Cars buzzed behind her, oblivious of everything except their own business. People walked past the girl, muttering complaints about their work and the recent oil price increase. The girl stood there. She wanted to cry. Putting the poster back into her pocket, the girl walked slowly, wearily, away from the restaurant. She wasnt interested in the drama episode tonight anymore. The girl felt sick. She picked up the remaining necklaces. Two seemed to be still intact from the fall. The other two lay scattered and dashed on the sidewalk. She said sorry and goodbye to the dead flowers on the ground. Fighting tears, she resumed her journey.

KATRINA Katrina Padilla was furious. She had searched everywhere. It was already dark and she had to go home, but her bracelet was nowhere to be found. She was so sure. She would never forget such an important thing. Lola, forgive me, Katrina thought. She would never forget to wear that bracelet every single day. It was her good luck charm. It was her treasure. The bracelet must have fallen off somewhere. Katrina went back to the gift shop and inquired, but the staff seemed clueless. Her bracelet was not in the shop. She even called her personal assistant through a payphone, something she hated to do. Her assistant sleepily told her that her bracelet was not in Katrinas house or in the office. She felt dumb. Worried sick, she drove back to the caf, her last resort. The cashier and the manager tried looking for her bracelet, but they found none. She went out of the caf, frustrated, angry, and with a splitting headache. Where could it be? She felt defeated. She decided to walk back to the car, her shoes crunching against the pavement. Looking down, she noticed something

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familiar. Scattered on the sidewalk were flower petals, dashed and stepped on, looking like bruises on the pavement. Then it hit her. Of course! The girl! The girl with the flower necklaces! With a new sense of purpose, she got into her car and drove.

THE GIRL The girl did not sell any more necklaces that night. She felt hungry and weak. Feeling her stomach, the girl started walking home. She had no choice now but to go home and face her father. Perhaps her father did not drink tonight. Perhaps he would let her eat a little. Perhaps he would forget using his belt. The church bells rang wearily. It was a death peal. Someones funeral, she guessed. It did not matter. She counted the tolling at the end. Six. She just missed this days episode. Surprisingly, she did not seem to care anymore. Nobody seemed to have any interest in buying her flower necklaces. The flowers looked weary and wan, just like her. She was tired. Feeling defeated, she started walking home.

KATRINA Katrina saw her! That girl. She was sure of it. The girl was walking away from the church. Oversized shirt, flower necklaces in hand, Katrina recognized her. Katrina Padilla hurriedly parked her car and ran after the girl.

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Thief! Katrina shouted. Stop her. The girl seemed oblivious. Katrina was fast. She caught the girl and yanked her arm. The girl seemed to be taken aback, surprise and agitation written on her dirty face. The girl tried to pull herself free but Katrina was strong. The actress twisted her arm. The girl howled in pain. A small crowd began to gather around them. Somebody call the police!, Katrina yelled at the crowd. This thief stole my bracelet. The girl, in pure terror and confusion was swimming in tears, mucus flowing freely down her nose. The girl tried to yank herself free again but Katrina held her arms. The girl began to cry some more, her words lost in sobs. Wheres my bracelet, thief?, Katrina yelled. The girl shook her head pitifully. Katrina lost it. She slapped the girl hard on the face, once, twice, again and again. Give me back my bracelet!, Katrina screamed. The girl was a mess. She was wailing in absolute pain. The crowd watched. The crowd multiplied. They stood there and watched some more. The girl was sobbing furiously. Feeling drained, Katrina gave one last slap at the girls purple face, her hands numb and dripping with the mixture of sweat, tears and mucus. The girl sobbed silently, mumbling something incomprehensible. Wheres the nearest police station?, Katrina asked the crowd yet again. A man managed to point Katrina in a direction. Still holding the girl, Katrina cut through the

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crowd, dragging along the girl, her bony arms.

hands still locked around the girls

THE GIRL The girls cheeks were numb. Her body hurt. Her arm was sore. Everything felt like a dream, like some bad drama episode she watched from her neighbors window. The crowd seemed to follow them. She felt every persons eye cutting through her soul. She could not fathom their emotions. They seemed unreal. Alien. They were the audience. That was what audiences do, she guessed. To watch. Just watch. Why? She asked herself. Why? The girl felt dazed, powerless, and so she kept walking, the remaining necklaces crumpled in her hands. The poster in her pocket suddenly weighed like a hundred pounds, dragging her down. The girl could not recognize the woman walking in front of her anymore, yet she followed, like it was her fate to do so. The woman kept muttering the same incomprehensible words over and over again, like some scratched CD from the old player in the news stand. The woman felt distant to her, some long time memory. She followed along; tears glistening orange on her face under the pale light of the streetlights. The girl was under the spotlight. Shes a drama queen now. Shes a drama queen in her very own show. Halfway through their destination, she felt the womans hand relax its grip. Sensing an opportunity, smelling freedom, she yanked herself free with whats left of her strength. She ran; like it was written on her script. The womans face contorted into a ridiculous caricature upon

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realization. Yet the girl ran. She ran, aimless, into the streets. She was a drama queen, the star of the night. The church bells rang its usual clangor, filling the street with its all too familiar sound. The girl counted while she ran. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Then it was over. A piece of folded paper, now crumpled, escaped from beneath her pockets and flew in circles with the swirling breeze that passed through that street but the girl never noticed. She just ran. And ran.

KATRINA Katrina let out a crazed scream. She tried running after the girl but somebody took a hold of her arm and stopped her. Cars sped in front of her in both directions, blasting their horns in protest. Katrina swore loudly. The girl had disappeared amidst the crowd. Katrina felt like breaking down right there and then. She felt like clawing the pavement. She felt like screaming. The bracelet. The bracelet. She could not take it off her mind. She yanked her arm free from the strangers grip and swore again. The crowd started to disperse, losing interest from the lack of action. Katrina stood there staring at the pavement, her head in circles. Katrina started walking back to her car, tracing the path the girl took when she ran away.. She got in her car and just sat there, pounding the wheel with her fists. After what it seems to be like forever, Katrina finally decided to start the car. She wanted to go home. She wanted to sleep. Perhaps today was just a dream. She felt the wrist where she always wears the bracelet. She wanted to cry. The car shuddered alive with the turn of the key. The car headlights shone bright orange on the street, revealing road cracks filled with inky asphalt and some plastic trash. The headlights shone at something that was almost too familiar to Katrina. She stopped the car. Curious, she went out and checked. Sitting on the street were two flower necklaces, glowing

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orange against the headlights. They were still intact, a little crushed, although the flowers seem to be more gray than white. Not far from the flowers, Katrina noticed a piece of crumpled paper lying on the ground. She picked it up. It was a poster. For some unknown reason, Katrina stared at the picture for a long time, wondering who the heck the girl in the picture was. It was her, she finally realized. She looked older. She looked fake. She felt disgusted. She felt like throwing up. It was her. The picture was indeed her yet it felt like she was looking at a complete stranger. Katrina did not sleep that night, even after the manager of that small caf called and told her that they found her bracelet. Katrina tossed and turned, her image on the poster scraping and scratching her mind. She woke up feeling like the stranger in the poster but worse.