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earako · 1 year ago

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Things that scare: Tea

My Tatay always poured out an extra cup whenever he made tea. I never really understood why when I was younger. It was just me, my older sister, and Tatay, my dad. Three cups should be enough. But Tatay always poured out a fourth.

“Ai, basta lang,” Tatay would answer whenever I asked about the fourth cup. “But…masayang, diba?” I’d say because I remember vividly the one time my older sister, my Manang, threw out the rice she couldn’t finish one time when we were really little. Tatay saw it in the garbage and gave her an entire lecture about food waste and being grateful that we were in a country where you could just go to the store to buy meat instead of having to butcher it ourselves.

Manang and I were careful not to waste food after that.

Now that I’m older I understand why that set Tatay off. Food was sometimes scarce in the Philippine province and we were lucky that we never had to go to bed with grumbling tummies. Food insecurity is a trauma that’s hard to shake.

Which is why Tatay’s tea habit was so confusing to me growing up. He’d scold us over a few grains of rice but wasting tea was fine?

Wait a minute, that’s not entirely fair to Tatay. The tea wasn’t always wasted. Sometimes Tay- Tay is just a shorter way to say Tatay- would drink it once he thought Manang and I were asleep. He’d always have to say something before drinking it though. To this day I still don’t know if it was a prayer, an apology…or a request.

I wonder how often dad had to make requests on our behalf…

Papa was always the calmer one. That wasn’t to say Tay had a temper, both of my parents were, or at least tried, to be very mild mannered and calm.

They’d still yell sometimes. But it was almost always well deserved.

I think the fourth cup was set out for Papa now that I think about it. Apparently before Papa met Tay, Tay only ever drank energy drinks or black, bitter coffee. Papa never developed a taste for that sort of stuff so when he and Tay got married and their belongings started to mingle, Tay got curious. Papa’s teas smelled a lot nicer than the energy drinks Tay slowly replaced with coffee.

Papa hated Tay’s energy drinks.

At least, that’s what Manang told me. Manang was still pretty young when we lost Papa, but I was still a baby. I don’t have any memories of him.

Apparently I inherited my love of tea from him.

As I grew older I slowly started to take over Tay’s little habit. For some reason, Manang never wanted to be the one to set out the fourth cup. It had to be either me or Tatay. I always thought it was because I inherited Papa’s looks more than Manang did. “Ayy, medyo nga guapo,” Manang would always tease as she held a picture of Papa up beside my face.” I’d whine and complain but secretly I liked having something in common with the dad I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t old enough to remember what he looked like, but wearing his face made me feel a little less excluded.

More like Papa’s son.

And I get the feeling Tatay and Manang know that too.

When it was time for me to move out, Tatay handed me the tea cups. Specifically it was the tea cups, well more like mugs really, that we’d always use only when we were having tea all at once.

I don’t think I noticed that until after Tatay had already given me the cups.

I asked, what about Manang? She was the eldest, and besides, weren’t these cups from Papa?

She said they were for me. They were always meant for me.

It may sound like Manang was jealous or bitter when she said this. She wasn’t. It was almost like she was…concerned. Hiding something. She knew something I didn’t, Manang could never lie very well. She was hiding something.

She and Tatay.

I tried to get them to spill, to let me in on what exactly was it they knew that I didn’t.

“You will know eventually,” Tatay said, a small, sad smile on his face.

“You’ll be fine,” Manang lagged, ruffling my hair before hip checking me. “You’re Papa’s son after all.”

“I still don’t know what that means.”

“You will.” Her smile dropped for a moment, flickering to the pendent Taty had given her. It was the pendant Tatay always wore around his shirt. To be perfectly honest, I always sort of hoped it would go to me one day. I’d much prefer the pendant to Papa’s tea cups.

I’m glad it went to Manang instead.

Before I left, Tatay asked Manang if she could wait out in her car because he had something he needed to tell me. Manang nodded, clearly she already knew what Tatay was going to say. “I’ll be in the car, bunso. Then I’ll drive you to your new place, okay?”

“Wen Manang!” I called out the door as she left. It was just me and Tatay now.

“Anak. What do you notice when I make tea?”

“Tay?”

“Your surroundings,” he continued as if I had already answered. “Whenever you hear creaking, thumping. When it sounds like the house is settling, I need you to promise me-anak look at me.” But…I was looking? I mean sure my mind may have been drifting off somewhere but-

“Anak, look. At. Me.” Tatay repeated. I mentally shook my head and tried to keep my attention on what Tatay was telling me.

Creaky house, pour an extra cup. Shadows out of the corner of my eye., come one Tay, I was a paranoid kid- okay, okay yes Tay, I’ll make the tea.

I want to mention that I am completely against the demonization of psychosis. And Tatay was too, he taught us to advocate for people whenever we could.

This wasn’t psychosis. Or, or if it was then it would have to have been a shared hallucination. The exact same hallucination shared between Manang and myself.

The house began to creak. Tatay’s eyes widened. He gathered up the cups and shoved them in my arms, quickly ushering me out the door.

I wanted to go back, check on Tay because he seemed scared.

Manang honked the horn. Yelled at me to hurry up or I was walking to my new apartment.

I spared one last glance at the door to Tatay’s house.

I got into the car, Tatay’s cryptic warnings still ringing in my head.

For the first year things were alright. I had people over, Manang and Tatay came over. Things were normal.

Until they weren’t.

It was just Manang and I. Tatay was out, he said he’d be back soon.

The house creaked. Manang’s head shot up. “Hoi. Hoi, bunso.”

“Hm?”

“Tea. go make it.”

“I don’t hear-”

“Go!” Manang never yelled like that before. Low pitched yet urgent, like she was genuinely scared of what would happen if we didn’t continue Tatay’s strange tradition.

So I stood up, grabbed the kettle and-

“Manang?” I poked my head into the living room as the kettle boiled. “Did you call me?” Manang looked at me confused, head tilted. Than her eyes widened. She slammed her forefinger to her lips. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong but she ran forward and slammed a hand over my mouth.

We heard a thud. The sound was similar to workmen on the roof.

I tried to rationalize with myself. We had just finished a scary movie and we were alone in a quiet house. Our adrenaline was spiking and hey, maybe Manang got better at tricking me and is playing an elaborate prank.

…Still, on the off chance that there was some merit behind Manang’s apparent terror…

The kettle whistled. I pulled it off and brewed the tea.

Thud…thud…

Creeeaaaaaaaakkk….

Thud…thud….

Creeaaaak

Manang had abandoned her spot on the couch to perch on one of the kitchen chairs. Her eyes kept darting around.

There was a knock on the door.

Knock…knock…knock…

“Don’t answer it.” Manang said, standing from her chair to block me from answering the door.

“But,”

“Bunso, Taty gave you a job. An important job. A job you need to focus on now.” Manang stared hard at me, hand reaching for Tatay’s pendant that she wore around her neck.

“I-”

“Just. please. You need to make the tea, Bunso.” Manang sat back down, hand still clutching the pendant and now accompanied by mumbling under her breath.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three knocks in rapid succession.

Hair stood on the back of my neck. My rational mind slowly started to take a back seat to my hindbrain.

I tapped my fingers against the counter as I wanted for the tea to brew.

Knock, knock, knock.

Thud, thud, creeaaaaaak.

Knock, knock, knock.

Thud, thud, creaaaaak.

Finally the timer goes off. I hurriedly pour the tea, remembering Taty’s warning to always have a fourth cup when things got...strange.

Thud, thud, creaaaak.

“Hello?” a voice asked. It sounded like Tatay speaking through the door.”

Manang lighted her pendant and squinted at the door. She paled.

“Don’t open it.”

“It’s just Tatay-”

“Do not open it.” Manang hissed, pushing me behind her and urging me to sit behind the counter.

Thud, thud, creaaaak.

“Anak, sige na. It’s cold out here.”

“Don’t,” Manang repeated, moving so that we were pressed up against each other. She still clutched Tatay’s pendant.

“Anak?” It was my turn to turn pale. Pressed up against Manang’s shoulder, her pendant tight in one hand while the other clutched my close to her. “Anak? Anak, sige na.”

Something wasn’t right with that voice. Even now I couldn’t tell you what exactly was wrong with it. You know how sometimes your body warns you of danger before your brain can react? It was a lot like that.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock. Knock.

“Anak? Anak sige na. Open the door.”

Thud, thud, creaaaak. Thud thud, creaaak.

My phone buzzed. Manang snatched it up, lowering the volume but still putting the phone on speaker.

“Anak? Ay salamat sa dios, you weren’t answering-”

“It’s happening again, Tay,” Managing said, teary eyed and honest to god nearly shaking. I was…for a lack of a better word I was confused…and scared.

“Anak? Anak let me-”

“Anak, you set the tea out, right?” How is that possible? I…Tatay is speaking on the phone…but at the same time I could still hear Tatay outside, asking to be let in…

“Anak? Anak let me in. It’s cold.”

Thud, thud…knock knock knock. Thud, thud, knock, knock, knock.

“Tatay…” I took the phone from Manang and tucked my head under her chin, reaching out a hand to also cling to Tatay’s pendant. “Tatay. Tatay what’s happening, I can hear you outside but you’re also talking to us and Tay…tay I’m…I’m scared. I don’t understand, I-I don’t understand-”

“I’ve taught your manang what to do. Just stay quiet and let her focus, okay?”

“O..okay…..”

“Don’t look out the windows. No matter what.”

“Okay….”

“And don’t let anything interrupt your Manang after this call. Promise me that, anak.”

“What Tay-”

“PROMISE ME!” Tataycouldn’t see it, but I nodded. I could feel Manang’s throat vibrate as she mumbled whatever it was Tatay taught her, one hand around me, another hand around Tatay’s pendant.

“I love you kids. Be safe.” Tatay said at the same time I heard outside Tatay’s voice change to, “ Hoi! It’s freezing! Let me in!”

Knock, knock, knock.

Thud, thud, stomp.

Thud, knock, knock, knock.

Stomp, thud, knock, knock.

I hung up. I curled up as tight as I could and shut my eyes while I prayed that whatever Manang was trying to do worked.

The voice went back to Tatay’s usual, gentle tone.

I knew now that the voice wasn’t Tatay.

Tatay’s voice slightly whispered when he spoke. The voice didn’t. Tatay had a northern accent. The voice was southern. Tatay articulated his words differently. The voice was a close, yet imperfect and slightly distorted version of Tatay.

It wasn’t Tatay.

Thud, thud, knock, knock, kn-

Something interrupted the third knock. The thudding got louder…louder..more stomping. Scraping against the roof.

Manang went from soft mumbles to a loud, commanding voice. I pried my eyes open, resolutely staring at the kitchen tile as Manang spoke.

The mugs.

I stared at the mug I had set out. The fourth mug.

Papa’s mug.

“Please…” I whispered. Please, please, please…..

We fell asleep curled against the counter.

And woke to Papa’s tea cup, shattered and empty.

And Papa standing over my front door, blackened as if burned, the wood dented yet still hilding strong.

Tatay looked at the cup.

“Your Papa’s sorry for being late.”

-/-

Alternative ending:

Papa’s mug.

“Please…” I whispered. Please, please, please…..

We fell asleep curled against the counter.

And woke to Papa’s tea cup, still full of now ice cold tea.

And Tatay standing over my front door, blackened as if burned, the wood dented yet still holding strong.

Tatay looked at the cup.

“Your Papa’s sorry for being late.” Manang pushed me behind her, her hand going for Tatay’s pendant.

‘Tatay,’ smiled toothily at us.

That wasn’t Tatay’s voice coming out of his mouth.

The distorted, bastardized imitation of Tatay’s voice said, “Unfortunately, you’re Papa was too. Late.”

#eugh #tumblr formatted it weirdly #anyway have some.original writing for a change of pace #also: translations!#tatay: dad #bunso: younger sibling #Ai basta lang: it just is/just go with it/let it be #Manang: older sister #Masayang diba?: but isn't that wasteful?#j writes stuff #original fiction #horror #Filipino horror

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