The Wicked Mrs. Gastrell (English version)

Flashback

“Karina! Karina!”

A knock made me stand up from the wet floor of the small bathroom. I just got over from vomiting and my eyes are still spinning. I slowly wiped away the saliva and tears on my face before clinging to the wall to stand up.

It’s been a few months since I moved house. I stayed in Sta. Barbara and looked for a living. My pregnancy was particularly delicate and the child in my womb was only in the first trimester but I had no choice. I have to work to eat. By the grace of God, I was able to work in a cafeteria as a dishwasher.

It’s difficult. It is very difficult to live everyday with endless tiredness and sadness but I can handle it. I’ll just rub my stomach and talk to my baby and I’ll have the strength to face the whole day.

There are mornings when I can barely stand up because of vomiting and dizziness but I persevered. I have to work to pay the rent for the small room, buy food and some things in preparation for my birth.

In these times, I can’t help but wish that there was at least one person left to sympathize with me. The one who is there to help me when I’m dizzy. The one who will say let’s eat that when I get home. The one who will support me. It’s a small thing but every day I wish that fate would at least send someone to help me.

If only Father were still alive or Diego. I wish Cholo had at least talked to me then. Even if he doesn’t like me as long as he supports our child. That’s more than enough for me because I’m really struggling. I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of having nothing to cling to every day.

“Karina! Karina!” shouted the woman outside again.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and opened the plywood door. I saw Kristine outside, the daughter of Pita who owns the cafeteria where I work.

“Why?” I asked weakly and leaned against the door jamb. My face was dripping with sweat but I didn’t bother to wipe it off. I’m getting cold and I want to go back to bed.

“It took you a long time to open the door! You’re vomiting again? Mom ordered me to deliver food here. You’ll pass out again without anyone else here. Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Kristine took my hand and led me inside. I sat on the only chair in the room and closed my eyes. I want to throw up again but I need to hold it back. I don’t have the strength anymore.

I heard Kristine opening the pots that were on top of the patchwork wood I’m using as a table.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

“You’re eating this again? This is what you ate yesterday. It was not healthy. Are you still eating sensibly, Karina? Look at yourself! You’re so thin. Your arms are so small! What nutrients can you get? from eating this? Oh! Your child might be malnourished.”

I opened my eyes with tears. “I only have one kilo of rice left so I have to fit it in. It’s a waste of food if I throw it away. I just need to recook it. I have a banana in there. I can make it into a dish.”

Kristine just shook her head at what I said. “Why didn’t you go to us? You know we’re always open for you.”

I didn’t answer because I don’t know how to tell her that I’m uncomfortable with the malice looks his father gives me.

“You guys are helping me too much.”

“How many times do I have to say to you that it’s fine. It’s just food. Have you bought your vitamins that were prescribed to you? Have you bought your milk yet?”

I didn’t answer again. I haven’t bought any of the things she said because I don’t have any money right now. The landlord asked for rent yesterday. I wanted to beg her to let me pay next month but I remembered that I didn’t pay last month so now I have to endure eating bananas and salt.

“Alright. I’ll take care of buying them for you. We’ll just reduce your salary little by little. Here. Dig in. Eat now. I made this beef dish for you. I heard you yesterday that you wanted to eat it so I brought this here.”

“Thank you, Kristine. Thank you for everything. I owe so much to your family,” I said through tears.

She rolled her eyes and waved at me. “Alright. Eat. Don’t be too dramatic. I’ll be upset. I’m also leaving to go shopping for tomorrow. Today is Sunday so the restaurant is closed.”

“Thanks again.”

She smiled at me before walking out the door. I stood up and picked up a bowl full of green beans. Then I sat on the small bed and started eating. I wanted to eat it last night, but I don’t have any money to buy it.

I felt great relief after finishing the entire bowl. My strength returned and my dizziness disappeared but I’m just too sleepy.

I looked around the room. A chair, a table, and a bed. That’s the only contents of my little house. My clothes and other things were still in the bag.

There are no appliances here, not even an electric fan, so it is very hot especially at night. I just fit myself in a cardboard fan and touch a wet bimpo to my body to somehow reduce the heat.

Every night that passes, I am overwhelmed with sadness and longing. I would go to sleep crying and wake up with tears in my eyes. I always encouraged myself by stroking my growing belly. I will be strong for the child. I will live for him.

That’s what I strictly promised myself until I gave birth. After how many months, I worked and saved extra for our needs. But even so, I still didn’t have enough money to go to the hospital, so in the end I gave birth at home. I’m nervous because in the last ultrasound, the child’s feet are coming first. Fortunately, the last time I went to the hospital, he turned around.

“Come on. Push, go ahead. I can see the head. Push! Take a deep breath.”

I did what the midwife said. I gave all my strength. After a while, the child’s loud cry echoed throughout the place.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’ve been bathing in my own sweat for a while now and I’m also losing strength. I wanted to rest, take a nap for a while but my desire to see my son prevailed.

Even though I was weak, I glanced at the bloody child being wrapped in a white towel. I bit my lower lip as my eyes clouded with a mixture of pity and joy. I’m happy because I also managed to give birth. Pity because my son is small. Obviously malnourished.

“Your son is very handsome. Is his father a foreigner? The nose is pointed,” said the midwife when she placed the crying son on my chest.

I still continued crying while staring at my son. I’m hypnotized by him. It’s true that he’s very handsome even though he’s just skin and bones.

My hands were shaking as I caressed his cheek.

“I will name you Errol. Errol Versoza. I love you very much, my son. More than my life.”

I kissed his head and smiled. Our son, Cholo, is handsome. I hope you see what I see now. Maybe when you see him you will change your mind.