Music Along The Pasig

Princess Rodrigo has always felt like an outsider in her home city of Manila. Being the only mixed person in her province it’s something she has always had to live with. Whether it be blatant racism from girls in grade seven that mocked her curly hair or the whispers from titas in between the pews at church. Princess had adjusted to the feeling of sticking out but never had she felt like such an outsider as tonight.

Tonight she stood in her mothers' old dress but was surrounded by luxury. She underestimated the eliteness of the party Princess thought to herself. Today was the wedding of Senator Añonuevo’s youngest daughter, Andrea, and he had gone above anything Princess had ever seen. Bouquets upon bouquets adorned every table and draped fabrics hung from above. Princess approached the orchestra who huddled like penguins doing their best, it seemed, to also go unnoticed by the party guests. She still could not believe she would play in front of one of the most powerful families in Manila in a dress that was more than a decade old.

Princess has little time to fret over her outfit, however, because soon after Jejomar arrives. He leads the musicians through a set of tall wooden doors that lead directly to the large stage at the front of the ballroom.

“Everyone take one,” Jejomar announces and begins passing out new music sheets for tonight's performances.

“Your names are written on the chairs so hurry up and find your place. Do not mess up.” Jejomar lectures the group as the musicians all find their seats and adjust their music stands.

When the curtains rise they are introduced over a microphone and everyone claps. Jejomar smiles proudly before turning and raising his baton. An hour and more of playing passes before their time at the wedding ends. Jejomar bows to the party and Mr. Añonuevo before the curtains close. He immediately drops his smile and begins packing up his stand and music notes along with everyone else. Then comes the moment Princess has been waiting for all night. Jejomar begins passing out envelopes filled with money in return for tonight's labor. When Jejomar hands Princess her cut he gives her a lazy smile. Once everyone begins exiting the building she pauses, too impatient to wait, and opens the white envelope. Her face drops when she sees what lays inside.

One thousand pesos.

Princess nearly trips with the heels she wears as she tries catching up to Jejomar. “Jejomar! Wait, please.” Jejomar turns just as he is about to exit the building and turns to face her.

“Yes?” He already seemed annoyed.

“I think there is a mistake with my pay. There are only one thousand pesos in here. I thought we agreed on four thousand?” Jejomar rolls his eyes at Princess and sighs.

“You received a thousand because a thousand is what you are worth.” Princess struggles to find the words to defend herself.

“But… I played just as well as everyone else. I kept up with everyone. We agreed that-”

“We agreed that this opportunity was handed to you. You are a highschooler the rest of my violinists are in university. I couldn’t pay you what I pay them. Have a good night Princess.” Jejomar walks away from her just as the valet arrives at the doors with his car.

Princess could not control the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. As Princess walks towards the nearest bus stop her tears begin to flow. She thought she had played to perfection, better even, than some of the other violinists. Princess couldn’t handle the shame of returning home with only enough pesos to buy some groceries.

On the quiet bus, Princess picks at her blistered and calloused fingertips. Hours upon hours of practice for a thousand pesos. Devastation was all she felt.

“Nanay. Why are you awake?” Princess asks when she returns home to find her mother standing in the kitchen with a cup of tea.

“I wasn’t going to sleep without my daughter home. Come here, tell me how it went.” She sits at the small kitchen table and pats the seat next to her, signaling for Princess to join her.

“Fine. It went fine.” Princess is short.

“Are you sure?” She pushes.

“Yes.” Princess tries to keep her composure but fails to keep the tears from falling.

Princess immediately finds herself in her mothers' arms. She is unable to calm herself as her mother rubs her warm hands along her back.

“It was awful nanay. It felt like I was nothing compared to everybody there. Everyone looked so beautiful and elegant and I looked like this.” Princess mutters and motions to her outfit.

“What do you mean Princess? You are so elegant, you are the most beautiful person I know.” Princess’s mother soothes Princess as she wipes her eyes.

“No, nanay, not there. I was so naive to think tonight would be a turning point. Jejomar didn’t even pay me what he promised. You were right. I have little hope of ever making it out of this place. There is nowhere for us to climb.”

More tears fell and nanay shakes her head as Princess buries her face in her chest.

“My girl, I did not mean what I said. There is always room to climb. There is always a tree, there is always a mountain. It just takes time to find the right one.” Princess sniffles, her nose now stuffy from crying.

“What if I die before I find it?” Princess questions her mothers' wise words.

“Then at least you died searching.”

That night Princess falls asleep with her mothers' words echoing in her mind. She wants so desperately to believe that she is right, but it seems to Princess that the tree and mountain her mother described are in another world.

When Princess awakes the next morning the sun is shining brightly through her curtainless windows. Her mother is long gone having woken before the sun even rose to attend her tiresome job as a tailor at a clothing manufacturing company. After breakfast Princess quickly dresses before heading out the door. She is stopped, however, by a large cardboard box outside her door.

Princess hadn’t ordered anything. Her eyes scan the box looking for a mailing address, but finds nothing. The cardboard box does not indicate who sent it or who it is for. The only thing on it is the tape that seals it shut.

Although she would end up being late for school at this pace curiosity gets the better of her and Princess drags the box inside her home. Should she open it? It doesn’t say it is for her… but it also doesn’t say it isn’t for her. Maybe if she opens it she could figure out who it truly belongs to and return it to them. Right?

Too curious to just leave for school she cuts along the sealed top and opens the box to reveal something magnificent. Inside is a beautiful, gorgeous rosewood violin. The wood is so perfectly shined Princess can see her reflection and the bow has a red ribbon wrapped around its back. Underneath the delicately placed violin and the bow is a small black book.

Cautiously Princess takes the instrument and sets it on the table before reaching into the box and grabbing the book. Inside all the pages are blank, all except one. The first page simply says, “Enjoy the gift Princess, play for me at the square at five o’clock if you would like to thank me.”

“So it is for me?” Princess whispers to herself. Who gifted her this and why?

She has no time to ponder on the thought because when she looks up at the clock above the stove it reads eight thirty-eight. She is late for school.

Princess hastily places everything back in the box and leaves for school. Throughout the day her mind drifts. She has so many questions.

A violin at her doorstep and a request. Play music at the square near the Pasig River. Should she go? She has too, she thought. Maybe there she will see a familiar face and find the person who gifted her the violin.

Once the school day has passed and Princess is home she packs her new violin and bow into her worn down case and leaves a note for her mother telling her not to worry and that she will be home before dinner.

When Princess arrives at the square it is packed with people leaving work, couples enjoying the scenery, and food vendors offering up cotton candy or lumpia.

Her eyes wander attempting to catch a glance at anyone and everyone that fills the square. It’s five, the person who gifted her this should be here.

Princess finds a spot along the rail that separates the square from the moving waters below and opens the violin case. With the violin tucked below her chin and bow in hand, she begins playing. For nearly forty minutes she plays and plays. Princess looks over everyone that stands to watch her but after nearly an hour of playing she doesn’t recognize a single face.

The sun has already set when Princess packs up and gets on the bus to return home. Was the person who gifted her that violin there and she just missed them?

She had spent her time at the busy square and yet she still had no answers. At home, her mother is already busy in the kitchen cooking pancit.

“Ah, you’re home. How was school? Where did you have to go?” She asks Princess.

“It was good, I just went to the square to play some music… on this.” Princess smiles and opens up her case to show her mother the contents inside. Her mother gasps and sets the spoon in her hand down on the counter.

“Who gave you that?” Princess shrugs and explains the mornings' odd occurrences to her mother.

“Another package?” Nanay says and goes to the couch to grab something. She returns with another cardboard box.

“What?” Princess questions.

“When I came home this was at the door. I didn’t open it because the package said it was for you.” Princess and her mother both stare at each other warily before Princess begins opening the box.

When Princess unveiled what lay inside, mother and daughter both nearly faint. Filled to the brim were hundreds upon hundreds of a thousand Phillippine peso notes.

Princess and her mother sit frozen at the kitchen table for hours. Almost a million pesos, twenty-thousand U.S. dollars. She counted it over and over. It was there. It was real. Felt real, smelled real, looked real. It was all there, all with a letter…

‘You played beautifully at the Pasig. Thank you. I hope you can make good use of this money and I hope you never stop playing.’

For ten years Princess searched for the person who had gifted her the money. Years of research and questioning had never brought forward an answer. The money had served her well for the past decade. The years had come and gone, but the question always loomed close by. The events were odd, but she was grateful for them. For they all led her here, playing in the San Francisco symphony.

When the curtain finally raises and the music starts Princess becomes immersed, lost in the chorus of sounds like she always does. She doesn’t look up from her music sheets until the concert is over. As the crowd rises to their feet and claps for them Princess catches a glimpse of someone in the second row. It takes her a minute to recognize the face. There Mr. Añonuevo stands, clapping among the crowd. When her eyes meet him he simply winks and bows to her.

Princess smiled back, she finally knew. Ten years on she finally knew.