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  The Weaver’s Daughter

  Geraldine Solon

  The Weaver’s Daughter

  Copyright ©2018 by Geraldine Solon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Part I Marisol

  June 4, 2000

  Part II Lotus

  Present Day

  Isabel

  Part III Marisol

  Lotus

  Isabel

  Marisol

  Lotus

  Isabel

  Marisol

  Lotus

  Isabel

  Marisol

  Part Iv Lotus

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Part I

  Marisol

  Prologue

  I can barely see the cracked linoleum tiles my feet used to walk on, but I know they exist. The voices in my head continue to holler at me, but I’m aware there is nothing left for me in this world. The old nurses don’t greet me with the same smile as the new ones do. For in the past eighteen years I’ve been here, I’ve not had a single visitor. This has been my home, my sanctuary and the only place where nobody dares to visit me. But I’ve waited for this day to come. It’s time. Today is the day.

  June 4, 2000

  There he is, radiant as ever with his fair skin and light eyes, towering above me with his perfectly-polished shoes, neatly-pressed suit and a matching grin on his face. I can’t keep my eyes off him. I can tell you exactly what I feel about him. Ravenous. One word describes it all. But then again, he doesn’t notice me. I’m just the daughter of a servant―one of the many servants his family employs in their estate. I’m the only teenager who assists my mother cleaning rooms in the huge mansion, Hacienda Hermosa located at the Western Visayas region of the Philippines. Most of the time, I’m all alone with nobody to talk to and what keeps me alive are the deep desires I feel for him. If only this mansion could talk, it would reveal all my secrets. Ricardo Iglesias, my prince, my love, my everything. If you can give me a chance―please take one look and at the real me. I’m more than just a girl, wishing you can see me for who I truly am.

  Today is the big day. We’re preparing for Ricardo’s sister, Isabel, to return home from Spain where she is currently studying foreign languages to brush up on her Spanish and French. Doña Maria Esperanza demands we tidy up every nook and cranny and check for cobwebs. We’re told to use goose throw-pillows because Isabel is allergic to dust. The whole household is walking on egg-shells ensuring everything is spotless.

  I’m excited to see Isabel again, we never got to play together while growing up. I always hid behind my mother’s back each time she was around, but now, more than anything, all I want is to be close to her. The current photos I’ve seen of her reveal she’s a kind person. She’s even more beautiful now, regal with her pale milk skin, bright blue eyes, and golden locks. She reminds me of a princess from a faraway land. So different from me, with my dark hair and bronze skin from staying outdoors working under the sun. Being an only child, I savor for a sister and hope Isabel would be the one. We’re the same age but living worlds apart. Yet, my goal is to win Isabel and let her be the closest person to me.

  Drawing the pillow to my nose, I fantasize what it would feel to plop myself in the queen-size bed beside Ricardo and feel his soft lips pressed against mine as he slowly undresses me. How beautiful that would be.

  “Marisol,” my mother intrudes into my thoughts. “We need you in the kitchen.”

  I sigh, witnessing how she’s glaring at me. “Yes, Mama.”

  My father died when I was four years old, and since then I’ve always been my mother’s shadow. I often hear the other servants gossiping about how sorry they feel for my mother, and each time I enter the room, they flash me blank stares. How can they feel sorry for my mother? We live in a nice mansion overlooking a hill and get the best view of the ocean, and at night, we don’t need to worry about the heat because the cold wind sips inside the windows. We may not own the Hacienda Hermosa, but every day for me is a blessing especially since I get to see Ricardo’s face.

  While Isabel chose to study abroad, Ricardo stayed to handle the family weaving business. Right below his estate, is their weaving factory where they create beautiful hand-made exquisite barongs and dresses made from Piña―pineapple leaves. I’m off-limits from entering the factory, according to my mother. But what she doesn’t know is I visit the place each night when everyone is asleep. The weaving factory is the only place that allows me to explore, dream and use my hands. I love to work with my hands. I too can be a weaver. I will prove it to her―to them―to Ricardo. Just watch, Mama. I will show you what I can do today.

  Isabel is everything I pictured her to be. As she steps out of the black Rolls Royce, her eyes glimmer. Lifting her chin, she waves at the crowd as they welcome her. Truly a graceful princess. We lock eyes and she exudes a smile, acknowledging my presence. I can no longer contain myself so I run toward Isabel with a gift I personally wrapped. My hands tremble upon reaching her.

  “This is for you, Señorita.” I can feel all eyes including Doña Maria’s glued toward my direction. I’m sure my mother is cursing underneath her breath, but I don’t care. This is my moment.

  Isabel tears the wrapping paper and pulls out a blouse finely made with Piňa. Everyone around her gushes while her eyes open wide. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  My heart jumps. “I made it especially for you.” My secret is out. This is what I’ve been working on for the past month. I needed to prepare something special for Isabel so I can win her to be my sister. The only sister I’ll ever have. If there’s one thing we share in common is we both lost our fathers at a very young age. I hope our bond can be stronger than ever. She needs me and I need her.

  A slap lands on my face. “Marisol, how could you.” My mother raises her voice.

  Tears flood my eyes. I knew this was coming.

  Doña Maria comes in between us, studying the blouse. She eyes me. “Marisol, did you do this?”

  I bow down my head, hoping she won’t banish me from the face of the earth, but instead she lifts my chin. “You can start working at the factory tomorrow.”

  My eyes light up and no sooner do I well in tears, but this time they’re tears of joy. My mother is about to say something, but Doña Maria glares at her. “She’s the best weaver I’ve ever seen. How can you not acknowledge that?”

  Laughter escapes my lungs. I don’t remember ever laughing like this before. Isabel giggles too and squeezes my hands. “This calls for a celebration,” she says. “I came home and you’re now our new weaver.”

  And just like that, I knew I had won her as a sister.

  I’m all giddy on my first day of work where I witness more than a hundred weavers engaged in their tasks at their respective work stations. Doña Maria assigns me to be trained by the master, Leticia Mendez, who has worked for their family for forty years and is still going strong. Leticia wears thick glasses and looks quite strict. I’m afraid to sit beside her, but I know working with the best weaver will motivate me to shine to the best of my abilities.

  Leticia lines up the pineapple leaves which has b
een finely cut earlier that day.

  She lays her hand on mine. “You need to be very careful when scraping fiber from the leaf.”

  She demonstrates how intricately she grates the long glossy fiber one by one with a coconut shell. It’s a delicate process. Repetitive but rhythmic―a true solace for me.

  Leticia not only shows me how to work with my hands, but she informs me that the pineapples take eighteen months to ripen before we can use the leaves. Like life, everything else is a journey―a collection of moments. This is my moment, right here, right now and where I have discovered my true bliss.

  After a couple of hours, my hands are sore and trembling. I stand up and stretch my arms wishing to take a break.

  Leticia eyes me. “Nobody said you can take a break.”

  I study my surroundings and everyone is glued to their work. “I’m sorry.”

  She nods, but no sooner takes pity on me. “It’s your first day, go. Come back in fifteen minutes.”

  A wide smile spreads on my lips. The child in me also wants to play. I rush outside the factory to get some fresh air. Stopping to my tracks, I spot Ricardo with three friends riding their horses at the stable across the factory.

  “Hi.” I wince.

  He flashes me his debonair smile, one I’ve longed to see. His teeth twinkle against the sun and I can’t stop staring at him.

  His friend nudges him on the side. “Who is she, Ricardo?”

  “Yeah, who is she?” The two other boys chime in.

  “Guys, this is Marisol, she’s our new weaver. Marisol, please meet Jaime, Manuel and Carlos.”

  I freeze. He knows my name. He told them I’m the new weaver. He didn’t say I was the daughter of his servant. He finds me important.

  The handsome boys exude bigger smiles, but my eyes are all for Ricardo, my one true love.

  Carlos, the more aggressive one takes a step closer to me. “So, you’re a weaver, huh? You must be good with your hands.”

  “Um, yes.” I give a sheepish smile.

  The boys snicker in a mocking way.

  Ricardo hushes them. “That’s not the way to talk to the young lady.”

  “Oh c’mon, Ricardo,” Jaime interjects. “Carlos didn’t say anything wrong.”

  I don’t care about them, all I could think of is how protective Ricardo is of me. Indeed a keeper. How can I ever repay him? I know. . . I will create the most unique barong for him. The perfect gift.

  Leticia hollers. “Marisol, you need to get back to work.”

  I lock eyes with Ricardo, sending deep tender thoughts to him. I hope he knows that I feel for him. One day, we will have our moment alone and he too will realize how much I mean to him.

  He smiles before I head back to the factory.

  Back at work, Leticia explains the different uses of fiber. My thoughts shift to the moment I shared with Ricardo, but she snaps her fingers taking me back to reality. She has a team of weavers working on various tasks. “Marisol, there are three layers of fiber, the liniwan is the supreme of all which we use for weaving the piña cloth. The second layer, called bastos is more rough and we utilize this to create strings. The third layer is also fine and called pinukpok. After gathering these three layers, we need to soak and clean them in the river tomorrow and it has to be pale like ivory. Once we’re done, we can knot all of these together.”

  I nod. Leticia probably thinks I’m ready to give up the arduous task, but when I’m doing this, my mind is free to think about Ricardo. Today, I made progress. I already got him to notice me. The next step is for him to fall in love with me.

  Leticia and I are crouched side by side overlooking the river. We dip the fibers in the water and wait.

  The sun glares directly at my shoulders. I hum a tune while keeping my eyes on the water, studying how long it will take for the fibers to be spotless. I learned today in order to produce something so beautiful, you need to work hard and put in time and effort. There are no shortcuts. The same goes with love. Each day, my heart expands for Ricardo.

  “You seem to be quite happy.” Leticia studies my expression.

  I’ve been trying to conceal my feelings for Ricardo and hope she doesn’t sense it. I wade my legs in the water, thinking of what to say then look her in the eye. “All my life, I’ve been known as my mother’s daughter. Nobody has ever gotten to see what I’m worth until now.”

  Leticia squeezes my hand, and for the first time in my life, somebody understands where I’m coming from. I’m not obliged to ask Leticia about her life. She was a young lady once and weaving is her life. As my mentor, I can learn a lot from her.

  We overhear giggles from behind the mangroves. I turn around and spot Carlos and Isabel in a tight embrace. Leticia follows my gaze.

  “That’s not right,” I say.

  Isabel leans her head on a branch as Carlos plants a kiss on her lips.

  Leticia covers my eyes.

  I remove her hands. “What was that for?”

  “We can’t meddle with their affairs,” she mumbles.

  I sigh. “I can sense Carlos is not good for her. I need to warn her.”

  “Listen to me, Marisol.” Leticia grasps both of my hands together. “We aren’t like them. Even if they treat us like family, at the end of the day, we only work for them.”

  I nod, wishing the weekend came sooner so we could bond more. “There’s something about him that gives me the creeps.”

  We spend the next few days knotting the fiber. I never realized how laborious the task is, but I know something magnificent will come out from this process.

  Leticia isn’t the only the master weaver, but she manages the quality control of the factory. Although she wears thick glasses, her keen eye never ceases to spot an error. If perfection existed, Leticia would be the ultimate example of not letting anything fall into the cracks.

  A different department handles the designs which are provided by the buyer. The factory customizes the orders based on the buyer’s needs. Pineapple silk is a supreme choice of the elite. This is truly a labor of love. I imagine every bride and groom wearing what we crafted. They choose to wear this important outfit that was made out of love.

  I learned today that love can be complicated, yet so much beauty comes out of love. Everything we do here is sealed with love. We are all working together to produce the best Piña. If everyone knew the labor intense work we do, they would appreciate us more.

  I’m up bright and early this weekend wearing a new sundress my mother bought me. She never apologized for slapping me in front of people, but I know this gesture was her way of telling me she’s sorry and proud of me.

  I feel euphoric because Isabel said that she wants to spend the whole afternoon with me. We plan to go horseback riding in their stables and pull an all-nighter watching movies.

  Isabel calls me from her room. “Marisol, you ready?”

  I run up the stairs catching my breath. “I’m here.”

  She studies my outfit. “You can’t go horseback riding in that.”

  She’s right, Isabel is dressed in tight pants and leather riding boots and looks amazingly radiant.

  Isabel pulls a pair of pants, a collared shirt and an extra pair of boots from her huge walk-in closet. “You need to wear this. I’m sure it will fit you.”

  I slip into her clothes and put on the boots. A perfect fit. She’s right again. This time I feel we are indeed sisters.

  Later, at the stables, both of us are strapped in our respective horses. Mine is a perfect ebony mare and hers a brown stallion. We each have a guide to help us navigate through the tracks.

  The moments are surreal. I’ve never ridden a horse before and right when it takes a big leap, laughter escapes my lungs. I feel like I’m flying and truly loving that adrenalin rush. Isabel trails behind me, guarding me like a bigger sister would, telling me to b
e careful. I’m wild and free, nothing can stop me now.

  After exploring the trails, we stop to take a break by the river underneath the same mangrove tree where I spotted Isabel and Carlos kiss. There is a mat already laid for us and a picnic filled with sandwiches, fruits, juices and water.

  “Wow. This is a feast.”

  Isabel giggles and plops into the mat. “Dig in.”

  I rest my body on the mat and hear my stomach growl. There are different kinds of sandwiches―egg, ham and cheese and tuna. I want to gobble them all up but maintain my composure remembering to act like a lady.

  Isabel on the other hand, grabs two sandwiches at a time. “Don’t be shy,” she says as she takes a big bite.

  That’s what I like about her, so daring and no inhibitions whatsoever.

  I follow her moves, munching two sandwiches at a time, eager to quench my desires.

  “You know, Marisol, I wish we hung out when we were younger. I always thought you were shy and aloof, but now I know you’re fun.”

  I want to tell her the reason I appear to be aloof stems from being the only child, and I spend too much time alone collecting my thoughts, but instead, I give her a sheepish grin.

  “If you want, I can teach you to put on make-up, and I also think you can add a touch of highlights to your hair.”

  “You would do all that for me?”

  “Sure, you’re the closest to a sister that I can get.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I have to admit how lonely it is to not have a sibling.”

  My heart is filled with hope. Perhaps my life could be different now. Being Isabel’s sister would mean I could sleep in a bigger room at the mansion and not have to share a room with my mom and the other servants.

  “Here.” She removes her gold bracelet and wraps it around my wrist.

  The ray of the sun stands above my arm allowing the bracelet to twinkle even more. “I can’t accept this,” I say pulling back my arm.