WARNING: this is now the part were some ADULT THEME applies... if you have a weak heart or would rather read a love story similar to mary and joseph then I respectfully suggest you move on to another DP. thank you so much for your time :-)

It was the third day and still Augusta had painted nothing. Ton-Ton and Chita were learnt quickly that whenever Augusta was doing whatever it was she was doing, she didn’t seem to notice them. So the took up what they normally did in the hut.

While Augusta continued to absorb the colors of the day, Chita surrendered her bra, lifted her skirt and Ton-Ton pulled Ton-Ton Jr. out of his pants. It was a hurried coupling, hushed tones, after all, Augusta could still turn her head; she wasn’t that far away. Despite his frenzied humping, Ton-Ton still watched out for his cousin by making sure he didn’t hear any splashing. At least she hadn’t fallen in.

But it was the kind of stolen moment that ignites quickly like that sudden spark of a newly lit match, burns effervescently then quickly dies. It was a two-grunt cum but Chita thought she’d done her job. Just as Ton-Ton grinned with satisfaction and he unwittingly slid out, a concerned voice suddenly sounded at his back.

“Nga ano camo?” It was Augusta, she walked so quietly. What are you doing?

“Ok lang, ng dasma lang ko. Wala kaso.” Ton-Ton answered quickly. I’m fine, just tripped.

“Ah.”

Ton-Ton reached down and snapped his jeans closed as Chita laughed nervously and smoothed down her skirt. Augusta wanted to go back in, she was done for the day and wanted to walk in town for a while. So Chita took her back to the island, giving Ton-Ton a look that was supposed to convey lust and promise, but actually just looked greedy.

Augusta, as always, was in a good mood. She often hummed to herself and took some people took it, usually women, as annoying. Augusta was adored by little boys who followed her around while men, smiled at her and watched her walk away. Augusta had no idea the effect she had on the male sex.

Women hated the competition, especially when it looked like she wasn’t even trying. Their attempts at rudeness were ignored because Augusta just didn’t see it. But the other women saw it as her patronizing them in such a graceful manner, it made them angrier.

She was always looking for colors, in the flowers being sold, in the clothes that hung in the breeze. She looked for colors where one didn’t really see it. She once stood staring at a bamboo post because instead of the usual green, it was a shade of brown she’d never seen before.

Augusta and Chita (who gladly became Augusta’s escort as Ton-Ton had to stay in the bahay isda until his watch was over), went into Renata’s Café where they could sit and watch the world go by.

Silay isn’t geographically large, her population numbered no more than 100,000 people. But because it lay on the bay and butted up into the mountain side, space was scarce, so streets always seem to bustle like a big city. This was the dry season, so the air was choked with dust and diesel exhaust. The market was one large city block. Each side had store fronts, but there were four large entrances into the center of the block. Inside flimsy stalls that were often nothing more than a chopping block or table lined strangled aisles wet with chum, water, blood and spit. It was a wet market for all the description it needed

Augusta never went inside because the smell of fish and meat, mixed with sweat and blood made for a very unappetizing aroma. But the outside had, rice sellers who usually had from 6 to 8 strains of rice; from the cheap un-husked brown rice to the highly processed white rice that was a status symbol. Augusta loved the sound as the rice was poured into the metal scale. It reminded her of rain. She loved the way cans were stacked in the shelves, so neat, precise, so organized.

They sat in the café, watching the tricycles (commercial bike and side car) weave expertly through motorize and non-motorized vehicles as well as the hordes of pedestrian traffic. As they sat there, inevitably, Augusta would attract a crowd of street kids who roamed the market looking for hand outs and dropped food. They would just stare at the beautiful girl who never saw their naked hungry looks.

Sitting there nibbling on ensymadas, small meat filled pastries, and a cold glass of ice Coca-Cola, Augusta smiled at Chita’s teasing running monologue of scandalous gossip and intrigue, but her mind was elsewhere. It was there Jack found her.