The Clinic At Sampaguita Street

Maricar was six weeks pregnant. She hadn't even known until a routine checkup earlier that day. 

It only happened once, but once was enough.

She had just turned twenty and was fresh out of college, a teaching position waiting for her at the public science high school that June. But would they still accept her if she got pregnant out of wedlock?

Maricar had a boyfriend. They had been together since they were seventeen, and before that night, their intimacy had never gone beyond deep kisses. She wanted to wait until she was ready, even if she wasn't too traditional to say that she was saving herself for marriage.

However, her boyfriend, a cadet in the army, had been assigned to counter-insurgency efforts in Mindanao. Two nights before his departure, a decent enough hotel room for them to spend the night 

He said that night was for the two of them alone; the next day was for his family.

She didn't know what to expect, so she asked him whether he had brought protection with him. He simply said he knew what to do.

Didn't she trust him? Didn't she love him enough to take this step with him, to promise each other a future together?

However, that had been nearly seven weeks ago, and she hadn't heard from him since.

His silence was reasonable, of course, but it made her uneasy. How long was the military campaign going to last? Would he even come back alive?

She needed to tell the person she trusted most, but not her parents. Lord knew what they would do to him if he actually came back in one piece. She couldn't imagine how disappointed they would be in her.

Having sex without protection had been foolish. She knew that now, and she was woefully unprepared to deal with the consequences. 

When Maricar told her best friend, Lydia, what had happened and asked for advice, Lydia was livid. She was studying for her social work licensure exam. She had seen what happened to a neighbor who endured abuse and beatings from her husband, yet became pregnant year after year for three years.

Not all the pregnancies had come to term, and that was probably for the best.

Whenever a Good Samaritan tried to help her and the children, the woman would plead on her husband's behalf. She would beg them to wait, saying it wasn't the right time. If the wife herself was unwilling to let go, local authorities had no right to detain the husband further. 

One day the man went fishing, and no one expected the weather to turn bad. His little boat capsized. A notorious drunk who couldn't swim, he drowned.

The weather hadn't been bad enough to capsize even a small boat. The vessel, however, had sustained damage he hadn't noticed because he was so often drunk.

That was the official story, and everyone agreed to it. 

The poor widow needed to catch a break.

Fortunately, the husband had been paying for a private insurance policy for years. Even after funeral expenses were paid, the policy still provided a substantial sum for his bereaved wife and four children, two of whom were twins.

The widow flourished after that. She now ran a small grocery business, and her children were doing well despite all being under four. Two of them even helped out around the shop. 

The point was that Maricar couldn't afford to wait for her boyfriend's insurance to pay out. He had no legal obligation to her until paternity testing established that the child was his.

'I know about someone that could help.'

Lydia handed her a business card with no name or telephone number, just an address.

'She told me about this when I mentioned I was helping with a case involving a teenager who had been, you know, by her own step-grandfather. The other relatives, thankfully, sided with the girl and sent him to jail.'

Maricar let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Not every family would do that. Some would put family harmony and saving face above the girl's safety. 

She read the card.

Barter, cash, jewelry are accepted.

No questions asked.

42 Sampaguita Street.

'Aling Rosa did say one thing.'

Lydia paused as if unsure how to properly phrase it for her friend. After a moment, she said, in a low whisper, 'The midwife is an aswang.'

Maricar burst into loud laughter. She tried to stop herself, but a snort escaped, setting off an even louder fit. 

After a full two minutes, Maricar finally had to stop for breath. Lydia sighed. 

'Are you done?'

'Yeah, I think I'm good now.'

'I've never been there myself, but that's what Aling Rosa said. She said that's how she handled her other pregnancies, because she didn't want more children at the hands of that brute.'

'And how did your neighbor find out about her?'

'They come from the same hometown. There had always been rumors about the midwife's family…that they are aswang. They were quite well-off, and since nobody had ever seen them transform, the rumors eventually died down.'

'Huh.'

Maricar shrugged.

'That sounds sketchy. I think I could go to a manghihilot instead. They do things like this too, right?'

'But the only one you know is Mang Elbert's grandnephew. He inherited the practice, right?'

'Right. Someone I already know. Will you go with me?'

'Yes, if it's on a weekend, but I'm free on Thursdays too.'

'Okay, I will talk to him, and we can go next Thursday.'

Tears welled up in Maricar's eyes, and she hastily wiped them.

Lydia pulled her in for a hug.

'It's going to be fine, Mar. Just trust. I'll be there for you, okay?'

Maricar nodded.

After they parted ways, Maricar went to the manghihilot alone. He looked young, probably not as experienced as his granduncle, but he'd been an apprentice since childhood. Maricar had seen him around while growing up.

Gilbert, the manghihilot, was around twenty-nine and had the kind of face that could have made him a matinee idol. They had attended the same college, where Gilbert had skipped so many classes that he was held back for two years. He had studied biochemistry before dropping out and enrolling in a vocational college for massage therapy.

He turned out to have a knack for it and was taking clients long before he acquired an official license.

He also had a reputation for being a real ladies' man. He received love letters, confessions, and all sorts of gifts.

As far as Maricar knew, he broke all their hearts by remaining single. He said his heart belonged only to one woman, and that was Lucila Sto. Domingo of Class 3-A.

Unfortunately for him, Lucila was attracted to women and promptly rejected his confession by kissing the woman she was with at the time.

According to the rumors, this was why Gilbert had abandoned biochemistry for vocational school.

Maricar arrived at Gilbert's small clinic. The smell was overwhelming, and she nearly threw up on the spot. 

Gilbert greeted her himself and did a double take.

'I almost called you Lucy,' he chuckled. 'You look really similar.'

'Ah, yes. Lucila is my second cousin after all.'

'Oh', genuine surprise registered on Gilbert's face.

The look made Maricar feel slightly uncomfortable. 'So, Maricar, what do you need from me today?'

'I need you to do something for me next Thursday.'

She glanced toward her stomach.

He understood.

'We could do a preliminary checkup while you're here, just so I know what to do come Thursday,' Gilbert offered.

'I didn't bring enough money with me today.'

'Nonsense. Preliminary checkups are free for an old friend.'

He stood and practically herded her into a private room.

'You can change your clothes here, and I'll be outside. Tell me when you're done.'

She nodded, growing more nervous by the moment. She was already there, and she didn't want complications on Thursday, so she might as well go through with the check-up now. 

'I'm finished,' she said.

Gilbert went inside and asked her to lie down on her back and close her eyes. He told her she was too tense and instructed her to relax, asking her to let him know if she felt any discomfort.

She didn't.

Then he instructed her to sit up, and she did.

He moved behind her and massaged her back and shoulder blades, his hands expertly kneading away the tension. She practically melted.

One of his hands moved down her side to her navel, as though he were feeling for the thing growing inside her. 

She didn't notice his other hand move upwards, grazing and squeezing her where it shouldn't have.

He was closer now, and she felt something poke at her backside.

Her eyes flew open in shock, but she masked her reaction, claiming she'd forgotten something her mother had asked her to do. She had to go and do it now.

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, unconvinced.

'I can do what you want on Thursday, Mar,' he said, smiling.

'Oh, yeah. Um, I just remembered that I have something to do on Thursday as well.'

Gilbert's smile widened.

'Is that so?'

'Yes.' Maricar glanced at her wrist. 'Now, would you look at the time? I really need to get going.'

'All right, I won't keep you. Just change back before you go out… Otherwise, I'll charge you for that set.'

Before closing the door behind her, he poked his head back inside. 

'Nice watch, by the way.'

Maricar had not been wearing a watch.

She had tucked it into her jeans pocket while changing into the massage outfit. 

She cried silently all the way back home.

She had agreed to being touched. She'd known what was supposed to happen. She'd said she would tell him if she felt uncomfortable. 

She felt uncomfortable, but she didn't say anything.

Gilbert was not a bad person.

They had practically grown up in each other’s orbit. She knew his wonderful granduncle, who would give children coconut toffee after fixing their dislocated bones from playing too much. Even her own parents liked Apo Elbert. 

He was good at his trade, and he was unfailingly kind. He had taken Gilbert on as an apprentice during the summer holidays. When Gilbert went to college in the same town, he continued helping his granduncle, who had remained a bachelor.

Surely, Gilbert was a good egg too.

The weekend passed quickly, but Maricar felt that the week had been the most excruciating of her life.

By then, she was nearly two months pregnant, though she still wasn’t showing. 

That Thursday, Lydia waited for her outside the carinderia they always went to.

'So, are we going to Gilbert’s clinic or to Sampaguita?'

Maricar could not meet Lydia's eyes when she said, 'Let's go to Sampaguita instead.'

They hailed a tricycle, which stopped in front of a souvenir shop. 

'Manong, are you sure this is the right place?' asked Lydia.

'Miss, can’t you see the address on the banner? Forty-two Sampaguita Street. I’ve been driving a tricycle for forty years. I know my routes.'

He sped off.

Minda's Souvenir Shop

42 Sampaguita Street, the banner read.

They went inside.

Trinkets of all kinds filled the shop. There were seashell necklaces, conch keychains, sand art in bottles, T-shirts, hats, and even traditional pasalubong treats for sale.

The two of them went up to the counter.

The lady smiled at them.

'You smell really nice', the shopkeeper said, glancing at Maricar.  'How may I help you two?'

'Aling Rosa told me about this place,' Lydia said.

Maricar took out her wallet and showed the shopkeeper the business card.

Without asking anything else, the shopkeeper led them to a back-room door screened from public view by a curtain of glittering beads. 

She spoke in a language neither of them quite understood, then told them to wait on a bench. 

Minda, the midwife, was in the middle of something.

They waited for thirty minutes before a woman emerged from the room, looking tired but relieved. She kept uttering thanks to the shopkeeper, who offered her orange juice and biscuits after her procedure.

'Let Manang Minda rest for a little while, then your friend can go in,' the shopkeeper told Lydia.

The two nodded politely.

After several minutes, the midwife called out for the next patient to come in.

Lydia nodded and squeezed Marica's hand.

'Whatever you decide to do, I'm just out here waiting.'

Maricar stepped inside the room.

The room didn’t smell horrible. In fact, it carried a sweet scent, almost like sampaguita, just as the street name suggested. 

Manang Minda looked to be in her early forties, average build, and with a stern but kind face. average build. She was at least five inches shorter than Maricar, who stood at five foot five.

The room was lit by a single fluorescent tube above a leather-covered mattress, yet Maricar felt more at ease here than she had during the incident a few days earlier.

Manang Minda asked her whether she was absolutely sure what she wanted to do, and she said yes.

'I don't know how much you charge, though.'

'One thousand pesos for the procedure,' Minda said.

'I only have five hundred with me,' Maricar replied, her lips trembling 

She had to go through with the procedure. Her career couldn't be derailed by a man's vague promises.

'Okay. I also accept jewelry,' Manang Minda said.

The only jewelry Maricar wore that day was her silver cross necklace. She couldn't trade it; it had been a gift from her late grandmother. 

Then she remembered the watch that she had once again instinctively put inside her jean pocket.

She had a Seiko 5 Automatic, which might not have been a luxury watch, but was nothing to scoff at either. She had bought it with half her graduation-gift money, and her boyfriend had paid for the other half. 

Now she would use it to buy her way out of the predicament he had left her in.

Maricar handed the watch over to Manang Minda.

She nodded, resolved to go through with it.

'Perhaps you've heard rumors outside,' Manang Minda began.

'I don't base my decisions around rumors, Manang.'

'Listen, girl, you need to know what you're agreeing to.'

The midwife handed her a clean robe to change into. It still smelled like bleach.

'I'll let you change. Tell me when you're ready.'

Manang Minda stepped out onto the other side of the room and unfolded the bamboo screen.

'You will drink a tincture so you don't feel the procedure. As you know, I am not a medical doctor. I am a herbalist.'

'Yes,' Maricar replied.

'I'm done.'

'Good. Stay there. Give me a moment.'

The midwife returned with something that resembled a green sludge in a small drinking glass.

'It will be a little unpleasant, but you need it.'

'Is this the part where you tell me you're an aswang?' Maricar joked.

'I am, and my tongue will go under and absorb what is inside you.'

She said it so seriously that Maricar laughed despite her growing panic.

'I understand your trepidation, and I will give you back your watch if you're hesitant.'

'Oh, wait, are you really—' she almost whispered. 'Aswang?'

'Yes,' Minda whispered back, letting her tongue drop, elongate, and transform until it reached her neck.

The sight nearly made Maricar faint, but Manang Minda pressed a thumb against her philtrum, jolting her back to her senses. 

'Do you still want to do this?'

Maricar took the tincture from the midwife and swallowed it in one gulp. 

'Sorry for my rudeness,' she said. 'I am absolutely certain, and I will not regret it.'

'Very well. Lie down. The medicine should make you drowsy within a few minutes. If its effects wear off while I'm working, tell me and I'll give you another dose. I won’t know unless you speak up, but I suggest you close your eyes and think of something else.'

'Okay.'

'Extraction is not for the faint of heart.

The tincture took effect shortly after that.

Manang Minda sat down on a stool by the foot of the bed.

She had been performing extractions for nearly twenty years. The work had become a lucrative business, keeping both her and her child fed.

Aswangs retained their strength and youth by feeding regularly. Without the occasional addition of raw flesh to their diet, they grew old, weakened, and eventually died. 

She believed her business helped people, as any business should. A business ought to meet a need.

She was not like other aswangs. She had class.

She would not hunt for the sake of it when food could practically walk to her doorstep.

Halfway through the extraction, she sensed the girl waking. She couldn’t stop now unless the girl told her to.

Some former patients had been curious enough to watch the procedure. They were often bemused to find that Minda did little more than stare down at them while her tongue siphoned the contents of their wombs.

What most of them couldn't handle was the suction sound, a soft whir like a vacuum cleaner. 

If Minda stopped now, leftover tissue could endanger the girl and would be much harder to remove later.

Improper removal could lead to severe blood loss and sepsis.'

'I'm awake,' the girl said.

Minda acknowledged this with a sound.

It was inconvenient to speak now.

'It's okay. Just turn the music up, please.'

A reasonable request, so she did.

Twenty more minutes, Minda thought. 

The extraction was complete.

'How are you feeling?' she asked the girl.

'I'm fine, Manang, just a little overwhelmed.'

Minda nodded.

'Your body has been through a lot. Try to eat iron-rich food over the next few days. My daughter will give you some snacks before you go.'

'Thank you, Manang.'

'If you recommend this place to others, just give them the same business card. I don’t print out a lot of those. Let my daughter, the shopkeeper, know they were sent by Aling Rosa.'

Maricar nodded.

Lydia was still waiting outside, reading a book on Philippine herbs she'd found in the shop. She had offered to pay for it, but the shopkeeper told her to keep it. 

Maricar ate the snacks. She felt tired, but lighter than she had been before the procedure.

As the two friends walked out, Lydia checked her over once more and finally asked with a chuckle, 'Okay, but are the rumors true? Is she really, you know?'

Maricar smiled knowingly.

'All I can say is that that was the best nap I've had in a long time.'