The Blue Kingfisher

Bernard was sitting on the branch of the guava tree in their backyard while watching a lonesome sparrow fly from branch to branch of the adjacent Macopa tree, looking and catching for the proverbial worm one Saturday morning.

With a slingshot in hand, he took aim and let go of the thing and watched as the pebble rocketed past the head of the brown bird causing it to fly away and settle on the nearby high-tension wire of the electric lamppost.
He dashed frantically, scaled their neighbor Mang Gusting's hollow-block fence, and hid in the dense artificial foliage of his greenhouse, as he took another aim at his target but missed.

“Damn“, he said to himself.

He always prided himself of being the best slingshot shooter among the kids in the neighborhood, and he was not about to give up now. With a determined look on his face and a mean stride of his thick calloused bare feet, he made his way into the nearby creek and set his sights on another bird. It was a blue-speckled kingfisher resting on a mangrove.

He was about to aim and shoot at the bird when he heard the voice of his best friend Vino calling out his name. He rushed towards the direction of the voice but found nothing there. Then, he saw the kingfisher fly, dive and rise from the water with a small fish in his beak, heading skywards. He was momentarily distracted as he watched the blue bird soar into the horizon until it vanished from his sights toward the direction of the thick mangroves that lined the murky creek leading to San Jacinto.

Then he heard that distinct whistle of his friend cutting the warm and humid afternoon air. “So you want to play games, huh?” he said to himself as he made a quick dash towards the thick and wooded areas of Tio Pedring’s Banana and Mango plantation, hoping to find his friend there-

At the center of the plantation, hidden from the intruding and prying eyes of the world, you can find their little haven made up of leaves and branches of Talisay and Nipa, just enough to shield them from the shade of the hot summer sun. There, they stashed whatever loot they would manage to acquire from the nearby plantations, or from the kitchens of their respective homes, or whatever things that interest them. In that hideaway, they feasted on pineapples, santols, guavas, bananas and jackfruits taken from the farms of so and so. They would cook rice and broiled fishes (mudfish, tilapia and catfish) caught in the nearby stream, or have some hard boiled eggs and a feast of some sort for days on end.

This day was no ordinary day, or so he thought.

He was surprised to find the place in disarray. The fruits were scattered and the clay pot wherein they used to cook their food was broken into several pieces. The plastic water gallons were spilled into the ground. He stood there for a moment as he surveyed the destruction that lay before his very eyes. He managed to force a silly grin despite the anger building up in his chest.
“Whoever did this must pay!” He murmured to himself.

Then he heard that very distinct whistle of Vino again. He snaked his way out and ran into the direction of the big Narra tree, where he was confident to find his best friend there laughing, having a bellyache at the prank he just did to him. But he was not there.

Bernard decided to go back to their hideaway in the middle of the plantation to fix the mess, and what greeted him made the hairs on his back stand on their ends. Goosebumps began to appear on his skin as the feeling of dread began to consume him as he scanned the place. The place was no longer in a state of disarray, but back to where they were the last time that he and Vino were there. The plastic gallons were filled back up with water, the clay pot resting on the small altar made of stone, and the fruits back in their proper place.

Unable to bear the dread and stand the eerie atmosphere of the place, he belted and made a frenetic run away without let-up. He zigzagged his way into the woods and ran into the small rice fields’ trails, until he found himself at their doorstep gasping for breath. He was surprised to see his mom rushing towards him with a look of concern on her face.

He passed her, went straight to the refrigerator, and drank from the bottle straight-up until he felt a hand tapping his shoulder. He turned around, and it was his mom.

What followed next was a blur. His senses became numb as his mom told him about the fate of his best friend Vino, who was found dead on his bed in the morning, apparently a victim of the bizarre Bangungot*!

He woke up the next morning to the blue Kingfisher singing a lonely song outside his window.



NOTE: Bangungot- is a Filipino term for Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome (SUDS) that afflicts young Asian men. It is also called Lai Tai in Thailand and Hukuri in Japan. The cause or origin of which is cloaked in superstition and this phenomenon is very rare in the Western world.