The Old Church

Jasmin Lim, acting on a lead, goes to visit the old church ruins. Legend has it that it was bombed out during the war and was never rebuilt because the workers could not demolish what was left. Steel tools were blunted quickly, heavy machinery broke down constantly, and some nightwatchmen reported seeing strange lights. In time, all efforts to clear the ruins had been called off, and the old church ruins became known as haunted.

When Jasmin arrives, she sees that the church has been cordoned off. Falling rocks, she is told, have resulted in a few close calls among tourists. So now, people stayed behind the cordon and took their pictures from a distance.

Frustrated, Jasmin conspires with her camera man to sneak in later in the day.

===

Once inside, the cameras start malfunctioning – including the one  on Jasmin’s cellphone. She holds it up to the dying light and sees that all the indicators are flat. “Figures there wouldn’t be a signal in here,” she mutters angrily to herself. Annoyed but even more motivated to salvage her long trip from complete uselessness, the young reporter pushed even farther into what would have been the nave of the old church. Somewhere behind her, she could hear her cameraman cursing out his own equipment.

It was rough going, with rubble strewn across the floor.  Carefully picking her way among the blasted bits of concrete and twisted rebars, Jasmin moved forward slowly. When she finally looked up, she let out a yelp of surprise and very nearly fell over backward. In front of her, sitting on a big chunk of what must have been ceiling, was a good looking young man, about her age.

“Shit! You startled me! Where’d you come from?”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” the young man replied, with a smile that would have been nice (Jasmin thought) if it hadn’t been so full of (ugh) teeth.

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t see you,” Jasmin replied gruffly. She busied herself dusting her jeans off and fiddling with her phone as though she were worried that it might be broken. She couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or angry or attracted to the strangely creepy young man.

“Who are you anyway?” she finally asked.

“You can call me — ” the young man paused for a second, then continued “Paul.”

“Ha! Funny. I thought you looked like a Paul.”

“It’s a good thing then, that you didn’t think  I look like a barang.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Where have you come from?”

===

Jasmine felt lightheaded when she stood up. What was she saying? She looked around in confusion and saw that Paul was exactly where he was sitting when he first startled her — how long ago was that?

“Are you alright, Jasmin?” Paul asked, sounding concerned. Jasmine noted, though, that despite the tone of worry in his voice, the young man had not moved an inch from where he sat.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks — what were we talking about?”

“Oh nothing in particular. This and that. Just now, you told me you didn’t want to be the weather girl,” Paul replied with that unsettling smile of his.

Did I? Jasmin wondered.

“Ok. Hey, how long have we been sitting here?”

“Not long. Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, I guess. I have to get back to Manila and, well, I don’t want to miss my bus.” Jasmin peered into the distance, back the way she had come, trying to figure out if it was still light outside. Her watch said 5:45 but she wasn’t sure about that. It really felt like she’d been sitting talking to — she looked up and gasped when she saw Paul was standing an arm’s length away from her, holding out a small bracelet.

“I’m sorry I startled you again,” he said. “Here, this is for you. I made it while we were talking.”

As she was reaching out for the bracelet, Jasmin wondered why she was moving so slowly. Don’t I want it? Well, maybe I shouldn’t take it. I don’t know him, after all. But what’s the harm in looking? I can always —

The cold touch of the stone charm on the bracelet on the palm of her hand startled her out of her thoughts.”

“It’s called a bahandi. People around here used to turn it into jewellery all the time,” Paul said with a smile.

As though the touch of the stone had erased all her doubts, Jasmin began examining the stone closer. It looked like an ordinary black rock, worn smooth from some stream somewhere. She tested the heft of it, and ran her fingertips over its smooth surface. “If you hold it this way, it looks like an apostrophe!” she exclaimed, looking up, eager to show Paul what she meant. But the young man was no longer there.

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