Broomsticks

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“Broomsticks! Broomsticks for sale!” She shouted to the top of her lungs as she continued on her walk.

“Hey, Bruha! I’ll buy one.” Yelled a fat, middle-aged woman with a large belly bulging out on her tight faded, floral blouse.

“Manang, it costs twenty pesos now.” She said.

“What?! You used to sell it at five pesos before. How come you increased it that much?” The woman said angrily with arms akimbo.

Dolor explained how hard it was to climbed a coconut tree and made some broomsticks. She even added that nowadays, there were no more five-peso brooms sold at the market. Still the woman argued more, threatening her that with her looks, no one would want to buy broomsticks from her and all those unlikely things one would not want to hear. She left the woman without being swayed. She would not sell it for five pesos. Her mother’s hand were thickly calloused already and so was hers just making broomsticks for a living.

It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon yet she still were not able to dispose one. She was so hungry she went to the waiting shed near the baranggay hall. No one was there. She ate her baon of corn and dried-fish covered with banana leaves. After eating, she rose up and continued selling. She shouted here and there. Few attempted to offer buying it at five pesos but she strongly refused until it was four o’clock. She decided to sell it at five pesos with a heavy heart. She went back to those cold-heart, no conscience customers. Some even throw their payment on the ground for her to pick up. Before selling her last broom, she hugged it and cried bitterly. How hard life was for them. Then she went home with a kilo of salt and spices bought from her meager income that day.

Walking home, she cannot hold back her tears asking God why he allowed bad things for them to experience. How she wished not to go back to that horrible place. Horrible than those in the forest because true monsters lived there. That place was like hell to her. How she wished she would just live peacefully in the woods with her mother. Thinking of her mother, she hastened her steps. She must be waiting for her right now.

“I’m home, Nay” She said excitedly while opening the door. She was looking for her mother on the four corners of their house but she was nowhere to be found. She went outside and searched for her. There! At the back of their home. There she laid unconsciously on top of the coconut leaves.

“Nay? Nay!” Shaking to wake her up. “Nay, wake up, please!” She cried mournfully realizing the truth that she was now alone. “Nay!!!” She shouted while crying bitterly.

She managed to bury her mother that night in their small backyard few meters from their home. She was able to dug a shallow pit just enough for a dead body. She used a banig to cover the deceased before placing it on the pit and covered it with soil. She made some crosses from coconut leaves like the ones they sell during palm Sunday. She placed it on top of the tomb.

In the morning, Dolor was found dead, hanged on a coconut tree. Later on, rumors spread out that during midnight, those who were able to buy broomsticks from Dolor can hear someone cleaning outside their house using it.

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