The Ghost of Good Friday
My maternal grandma ,Fortunata Darocca Villalobos – or simply Wawa Ting (or Little Grandma in Ilonggo) to us children – was the original tale spinner of the family and it was from her I first heard this story. It is a heart warming tale involving a young boy and a tormented soul who is up and about only on Good Fridays as he is forbidden to walk the earth on any other day. “And this was no ordinary spook,” Wawating stressed. “When you chance to meet him along the way after sundown, you will see a barefoot, shriveled, ancient beggar dragging his blistered , bloodied feet, as he mumbles incoherently to himself. And even at a distance you will know he is not of this world because of the greenish, phosphorescent glow that emanates from his person.” Listen to my grandma’s tale: I was an irrepressible youngster running wild and free in my grandparents farm in Mindoro. I still remember how my old nanny, Yaya Duliang, would admonish me to refrai