Gold

By J. Deytiquez

Where do the gold of the universe came from? It's like asking also why are we here in this world. In this fictional story about how two people met in the cold and rainy streets of Baguio City, an answer to that question may be found.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Deytiquez
• Release date: Dec 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005224837

J. Deytiquez

I grew up in a sleepy town in the midst of the vast expanse of rice fields in Luzon, Philippines. Though inspired mainly by the simplicity of nature of my hometown, to read and to write, I am also inspired by my experiences in the cold and rainy mountain city of Baguio.

Book preview

Gold

Illustration by @shato_illust

Copyright 2021 J. Deytiquez

Published by J. Deytiquez at Smashwords

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Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

…

And so the wind carried you

far away,

Like everything,

And as you were whispering,

Someday.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank first and foremost of all @shato_illust. She is the kindest, most patient, understanding, and the best illustrator/friend, for me, from Korea. To see more beautiful and dreamy works from her, you can follow her on Instagram. I would also like to thank my friend Angelique who is also the proofreader this book. I know, it is funny that I am studying for an MA in Language and Literature and yet, my grammar is not perfect. Another thing that is funny is that the illustrator is a lover of cats while my proofreader is a lover of dogs… I would also like to thank you who bought or was given this book. Thank you and I’m glad that it reached you.

JCD 2021

…

"I saw the ne’er before;

I see thee never more;

But love, and help, and pain, beautiful one,

Have made thee mine, till all my years are done"

—George MacDonald, Phantastes

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

Lisa: The Story before Gold

"Death alone from death can save.

Love is death, and so is brave—

Love can fill the deepest grave.

Love loves on beneath the wave."

—George MacDonald, The Light Princess

There I stood by the sea, staring at the dying Sun. The waves still sound the same, and so am I; there’s a song within us. There, in my car’s passenger seat, sat the small seashell pouch, containing the same sand, the same seashells, and the same conch shell from the same shore. I took it, sat by the sea, and once again, remembered everything. She gave them to me while we were young, and along with the bittersweet memories, they are the souvenirs, of the bygone days.

I can still remember everything.

-----

Her name is Lisa. We were childhood friends who grew up in a sleepy town by the sea called Brielle. We were children with great imaginations, and boundless thirst for adventures. Two young explorers of our little hometown; with our bicycles we roamed through the rolling hills of Brielle, its small forest beside a cliff, and its shore, countless of times, trying to find something precious that can last forever. We also climbed our hometown’s lighthouse every Friday afternoon, and from there gazed toward the sea, the horizon, and to some place beyond the waves, until twilight.

What do you think exist beyond the horizon? she asked me one time while the wind was playing with her hair.

I don’t know. Another country perhaps?

Yeah, it could be another country… she said with a pause and then looked towards the horizon, trying to see beyond it with her far-seeing eyes. But I like to think that that place is a better place, where everyone shall someday be and never part. My heart says that the country beyond is true, as true as a promise.

One particular moonlit night, after our high school graduation rites, riding one bicycle, with me as the driver and her as the passenger, we went to the sea and swam hand in hand. We were already in love back then, but we retained the innocence of our childhood days. We swam and dove until an underwater current suddenly carried us into an underwater cave. It was such a discovery! Since it was high tide back then, the water inside the cave was high, and we only had enough space for our heads to be above the water, and by the pocket of air inside, we were able to breathe. The water glowed with an enchanting blue color, and we saw each other’s face filled with amazement. We know that it was the same algae, that made our beloved sea glow in the same color every now and then, that lit up that underwater cave, and made it more wonderful. She and that moment were very beautiful. Her hair and eyes as black as the night, her lips as red as rose, and her skin as white as an alabaster, all looked very different that night. We looked at each other with longing eyes and hearts, and slowly kissed. Unspeakable joy was shared by the both of us during that unforgettable moment. It was our first kiss. It was enough for us and we cannot ask for more—we know that precious things die when they are rushed; we know that there’s a right time for everything. And I respect her and the Eternal Father of all who created her also and let us meet. And for everything, I am forever thankful.

After about three minutes (that felt like eternity) we emerged out of the sea and searched for my bicycle, then went back to our respective homes with contented smiles on our faces. We were wet and cold, but our hearts burned with the tender warmth of youthful love.

Everything and even life itself became more beautiful after that night. But it cannot last. All precious things need to pass through fire and tribulations before it can truly shine. The seed needs to die in order to live and bear fruits. My father soon got a promotion, and we needed to move to another city, which is very far from Brielle. She cried when I told her about our impending separation, but it felt like she knew it all along—that I cannot stay and was bound to wander. But we were not left without hope. We can still write each other letters, and maybe, someday very soon we hoped, we can meet again. I spent my last day in Brielle with her in a place that we knew so well: the lighthouse.

I wish we can fly together like those seagulls, said she pointing at the two white birds, flying and crying toward the horizon, and then beyond it, together. and fly to that country beyond where we shall never part again.

The wind was cold and made me shiver. The Sun was already dying when we descended and walked by the shore to linger for some time before we part.

Here, said my beloved giving me the seashell pouch filled with sand, seashells, and a conch shell.

Take this with you so you can remember me and our town.

I took it.

They say that a conch shell, being with a sea for a long time, is intertwined with the sea where it came from, and will let the one who is humble enough to listen, to hear the same sea it longs for.

Her eyes, during that moment, reflected everything good, true, and beautiful in this world and the country beyond the waves we dreamed of. Though they were filled of tears like mine, they were sparkling with hope like the distant stars in the night sky.

We said our goodbyes, and the dark and cold night blanketed us, and everything.

For several months, we wrote and read each other’s letters. Until one night, the night I had a very terrible fever, I dreamed that I was with her once again in the same underwater cave where we kissed. It was as enchanting as before, but there was this bitter tinge of sorrow in it, and thus made it sweeter like how the bitterness of a wine contributes to the goodness of it. The dream ended with her smiling at me with a twinkle in her eye and hugging me while assuring me that everything shall be well. That dream felt so real and left me with my tears. When the morning arrived, all my pain and suffering dissipated. After that, her letters never reached me anymore.

I was saving my allowance back then in