We’ve lived in our new home in the Philippines for over three years now. While my Filipina wife has heard laughing aswangs fly over our house, we haven’t had any mystifying incidents for a while. However, that all changed the other day.
Puzzling Blood Trail Haunts our Home
I had just taken my afternoon snooze. It was Wednesday, the day my asawa mops all the floors in our four bedroom home. Since we don’t have a domestic helper anymore, my partner has taken on even more extra duties.
“Please come here, dear,” my wife requested as I walked into our living/dining/kitchen space.
“See that?” she asked as she pointed to what looked like three drops of blood. The blood trail was in a perfectly straight line on the floor. Situated on the entrance to our guest bedroom.
I beamed a flashlight on the door frame and ceiling to see if I could see anything leaking. However, I couldn’t find a trace of anything that might have left the blood.
“Yes, it looks like blood to me,” I dutifully replied, “maybe from a lizard.”
“No, I don’t think so,” my spouse said.
Married for over 19 years, I knew better to disagree.
“Did You Kill a Lizard?”
I didn’t give much thought to the puzzling blood trail. However, my wife hadn’t forgotten about it. After all, in fairness to her, when we first moved into our home over three years ago, a former helper had discovered drops of blood in another bedroom.
Of course, no one told me about that incident. I’m the last to know when anything occurs around here.
As we were getting ready to watch, “Ang Probysanio” my wife suddenly posed this question to me:
“Did you kill a lizard and not tell me?” she asked.
“What? No, I didn’t kill any lizard. I already told you that.” I replied incredulously.
(Remember, my better half had already told me that the drops couldn’t be from a lizard.)
There was no reply to my denial. I could tell the puzzling blood trail was still bothering my asawa.
The Story Continues
A few days later, our nieces and nephew were at our home to celebrate my birthday. After an enormous serving of Goldilock’s Black Forest cake and ice cream, I went to our kitchen sink to deliver my emptied bowl.
My wife was telling the trail of blood tale to our nieces. Our one niece, who lives with us, was witness to the previous blood incident. While I couldn’t understand everything she was telling them in their native language, I could tell by the girls’ expressions that they, too, were mystified by the blood discovery.
While I jokingly said that perhaps the blood was left by an injured duwende, an invisible Filipino imp, I knew my wife was still bothered by the whole incident.
Me? No worries mate.