PRODUCTION

"I wish I can spend more time with Aunt Claire!" Cypress released a heavy sigh as she sat down on a chair at our dining table. "She had been gone for quite a long time, Daddy. You know how much I missed her. I felt like our day with her was just so short. I still want to make paper dolls with her, or maybe fly kites in the park. I just wanted to show more of the work I practiced, not just my ballet performance. You didn't even let me finish scribbling my art for her!" she muttered her annoyance.

I rested my elbows on the table. "Cypress, look outside. The moon had risen and as much as we want to, we can't do the things you like. There is always tomorrow. We'll hope for great winds to come by for you to fly your kites. I'll delve into your treasure chest for the origami papers you kept for her if you want to try that too. Or maybe, we can go again to the park earlier so we'll have more time to take some rides with you. Besides, I am not the one who asked for you to tidy up and put your drawings for later. What do you think?"

"No, Dad. You are the one who insisted that we should go, that we should clean Aunt's house." She continued with her disappointment.

"Ok, but that meant more bonding time with Aunt Claire, right?"

"While we clean? While we clean?" she repeated with her head stretched high up.

"Yes, Honey."

"You don't get it, Dad. That is not the point. You just don't get it."

"Get what?" I inquired out of listlessness.

"See?" she shook her head left and right. "The fact that you're asking me this means you really don't understand."

"Wow. Such a grown-up lady nagging her dad." I snickered.

"You bet!"

"I guess we should open your 'Aunt Claire treasure chest', in preparation for our clean-up at her house."

She sighed anew, but this time with a little sparkle in her eyes. "I'll bring all the necessities."

"Now we're talking!"

We went into her room. Underneath her drawer table, her 'Aunt Claire treasure chest' was kept. It's a little heavy for a seven-year-old that is why it is my job to keep her things properly stored. It looks like the usual relic pirate chest.

I successfully pulled the chest out. Cobwebs fortunately abandoned by spiders had permanently found their dwelling and that dust had turned the burgundy to a dull gray.

"You said you are a big girl, and here, a chest so important to you looked like you were hiding spiderman's corpse in here." I squinted my eyes and directed my piercing gaze at her.

"Well, father!" She made her voice thicker and she stood there with her chest puffed out. "Father, that is why this is a treasure chest. You bury it, leave it, and come back to it."

I exhaled long but still admired her smart retort. "But remember, always clean your room. Your mother wouldn't want seeing dirt like this all over the place."

"Dad, you saw only one dirty place!"

"And that place is your room."

"I assure you I clean this every day. It's just that the box itself was heavy so I really can't do anything about it."

"Just come to me when you need help."

She smiled at me with languid eyes and then went back to normal. She then momentarily left the treasure chest in my possession and had paced around her room. Lifting the mattress of her bed then shouting, 'Clean!'. Peeping under the framework of her bed, 'Clean!'. Hovering then her tiny fingers to the pink walls of her room, 'Clean!'. Well, her finger does contain dust almost to none, so I guess she indeed cleaned her room with passion.

"I just remembered how cumbersome it is to clean my room. Maybe helping Aunt Claire really was a good idea, Dad." She sat beside me. "I'm getting tired of running around the room. I may not have enough energy to lift the lid of the forbidden chest. I'll give you the honor."

"It is my pleasure, Princess." I bowed to her decree. "With the power vested in me, I shall now open the chest which contains the treasure of the seven seas."

And so I took the key that hanged on a hook at the chest's side and fitted it in the keyhole. A sharp click was heard and the lid became ajar. We had our mouths gaped as we stared at the golden sparkles coming out from the chest, a blessing that screamed of the prosperity within.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Her lips stretched up to her ears. She then slowly turned her head away as I stared at her.

"You didn't tightly seal the cap of your golden glitters. It is now all over the place."

"Sorry, Dad. Don't worry I'll clean them up."

It was only seconds of not looking at her and yet she now has a broom in her hands. What a witch for conjuring such a magical device out of nowhere.

"We'll clean it later. Pretty sure these specks of dust will just continue to disperse from this and that It would be of no good to start cleaning. We're still yet to get items from your chest."

"Definitely!" she agreed.

As expected, the dust that settled atop the lid began becoming airborne. There were small coughs from me and my daughter and so I advised her to stay a little farther from it. The dust was thicker than I had expected —an illusion of scarcity that fooled us, probably due to the many engravings of this complex contrivance. It is inevitable and so I had rushed to go get some rags from the kitchen and wipe some of them off. After another push, the chest had finally shown the secrets it held inside. Still as excited as she was, Cypress hurriedly ran towards it.

"Be careful, you almost fell!" I blurted.

She sat on her knees beside the chest with her hands clasping on the open edge. She peeped in, from time to time, turned her head to me along with an enthusiastic smile. She even had her body jumping slightly like a spring.

"Go on," I said.

That was the magic word. She sprang-up unleashed all her energy and went inside the chest. From there, she raised a plastic cylinder and had thrown it out. That cylinder contains a foldable kite that she and Claire hadn't used for about three years now.

As you have guessed, this is the same treasure chest that we had used on one of our plays. Do you remember the story of the pirate queen? The seductress mirage of the sea yet of great cunning that enabled her to rummage even the most fortified castles of the ancient kings. This chest, lined with silver, smeared with gold, and adorned with emeralds at the lid is truly befitting for a queen. A treasure that is coveted by mankind, guarded by the fearsome multi-headed serpentine beasts of the abyss. It was deliberately sent there through and by the Great King for such should never be kept in the hands of men, since the world had only known destruction upon the greed of the last prince he had entrusted it with.

That was a play written for the children. You were the pirate queen adept with knives, traveled throughout the seven seas in search of the seven lost golden artifacts of the Golden Age of the universe you lived in.

What made you become one? A quest that was declared by the Great King himself. He announced the location of where to find the seven artifacts and how you can get a hold of them. You have this innate thirst for power even as a child. You trained and as you grew, the interest of wielding the relics only burned brighter and hotter. You were clad in feathers that were eternally preened. Iridescent and reflective, you almost camouflage yourself with the glimmering seas. Mirage — that's why you're dubbed one. Accompanying you is a pure black parrot, a bit cliché but that's how you make out a pirate in movies right? This psittacine had keen bird sight and eloquent speech.

Your crew, of course, were well chosen from all the islands you had set foot in. Serving you is a former butler of the King of Thalamas, with his innocent look and perpetual smile, one cannot discern the bloodlust that this spy and assassin carries. A formidable spy whose identity was never revealed even after the death of its previous master. Another was a cook that loyally served a queen of a matriarchal empire. She had perfected brewing potions of toxic and recuperation. Her adeptness of using knives in the art of killing was vested by you yourself. Loyal to her newfound queen, she submitted to your authority willingly. From the Guineas, you tamed and took captive of the ferocious cannibals that survived your conquest. Since many haven't dared to challenge the roaring waves of the seven seas, even the existence of these savages had been a myth. And there are a lot more of the calamitous crew that aboard your ship.

There you have traveled distance far greater than any men had achieved. You have reached six of the seven whereabouts of the relics, but you still haven't laid your hands on a single treasure. All was just a ruse to lure the greedy to their demise. That moment you knew that the statements of the Great King were all but flummery except to one — the desperate words from his tongue, which you have pulled-out yourself.

As your crew is nearing the maelstrom at the heart of the seven seas, beasts of diverse forms that sentried the chest had emerged from the deepest trench. With your masterful craft of fighting with knives, you have slain even the serpent covered with metallic scales. And with your cunning, you had ruled over the nine-headed sea serpent. It was only loyal to the commands of the Great King, but that same monarch was no more for you had beheaded him. The crown which had sat on his head was a trophy that tamed the beast.

Of course, since this is for children, we only implied what transpired and didn't act these manslaughters on stage. But it never hurts to put in a little bit of implied gore and king slaying to satisfy the grown-up audience a bit. That is how the story went. It might be absurd as it sounds, but children love absurdity and flashy choreographies to enliven their imagination and curiosity.

Unfortunately, this play didn't sell well. I was still an inexperienced writer back then. Though every time I recall the storyline, I still do believe that it is well-written and that I am not the one who lost, it is the audience that failed to watch something as spectacular as the 'Queen of the Seven Seas'.

You know, Hon. After a long while, this has been her happiest. I just want to be with you at the littlest of moments like this. Had the circumstance been different I'm sure I wouldn't feel like this. There is still this heavy thing I carry in my chest, yet it's empty. I can't even fathom what this is. This just became heavier and heavier ever since I have lost you. How can I ever find a treasure like you?

"Aw!" My hand mechanically touched my forehead. I shouted, "Cypress, what was that?" She became too invested in hauling things and that her doll had flown over. My forehead isn't even that big to always take a hit. "Cypress, tone down. Just get the things that you'll only need."

"I'm sorry again. But I need them all," she replied.

"Your toys are all over the place. What are you gonna do with all of these?"

"I'm gonna bring these all in the weekend and play with Aunt Claire."

"You're gonna have a whole summer with her. Don't you think it'll be better for you to have some of these reserved for the next days to come? Playing with all of these in a day will just exhaust the both of you. Don't you think?"

"Please! Please, Dad." she pleaded, " I think you're forgetting that she said… that she'll be here until some time in summer."

"That might be true —"

She then straightened her posture and cleared her throat, "Father! As your beloved princess, I command you to now bring this cursed treasure chest down the abyss and allow me to save these now possessions of mine."

"These are too much, Dear."

"But, Dad! This chest is heavy and I'll not be able to open this again myself." Her cheeks puffed out as she faced away from me.

"Cypress …"

She slowly turned her back from me. "I want to go out and play these with you but you never made an effort. It is only with Aunt Claire that …" A series of long phrases continued as she murmured which become more and more inaudible and silent.

"I heard that," I commented.

Her words made me think. There was silence momentarily. I stood up and stomped my feet on the floor. "Here comes the sea monster. Rawr!" I started walking towards her with heavy steps, declaring my closing approach. She couldn't control her giggling as she watches with a side-eye.

"That's not funny," she squirmed laughing.

"Ok, I'll let you have all of these toys out of the chest for this summer. Just remember that we, for even I can't carry all of these, can not bring these to your Aunt Claire all at once. I bet she's still busy organizing her stuff and cleaning her room. As much as I want you to go play with her, give her some time, some window to not overwhelm her for she had just arrived. I believe that once she's settled, she'll be the one to come here and she'll invite you to go outside herself."

"I understood!"

"I'll clean all of these and so should you to yourself. Golden glitters had been sticking on to your skin."

Without a word, she went out of the chest and had scampered to the bathroom with her pajamas in hand.

Confounded, I don't remember these toys inside it. Claire had never missed a year of spoiling her with her wants, she may have been overbuying her gifts all along. With all of this mess, a plan is needed to organize these. The pink dollhouse at the left most corner, the boxes of art materials at the right, her unused piggy banks to fit some left spaces. I've decided to put her stuffed animals, plushies, soccer ball, and other soft ones above. As I'm about to close the lid, one thing caught my attention. There appear to be envelopes inside the dollhouse that Claire must have given. I'll just look at it another time for I don't want to reorganize all of this stuff once again.

I slid my fingers on the surfaces of the chest, feeling with my skin if there were still compacted dust left. Satisfied with my cleaning of it, I slid it back under her table drawer.

Seeing her kite container, her dolls, her origami papers, her miniature kitchen set, and all of her toys that just splattered all over the floor, I knew I had a lot of work to do. And so does Claire.

In the meantime, I piled all of her things by the wall near the door. Some fatigue had kicked in and pushed me to lie on our daughter's bed. Her words earlier that she mumbled are still within my mind. Are there some things that our daughter needs that I possibly missed? Skimming a little back through these past months, I think I did a good job as a father. I can't dive further within my thoughts just to unravel a gem that might shine a light on this. Stella, what do you think?

What could she possibly mean? If you were told the same thing, what are you supposed to do? How are you going to react?

"Daddy, I'm done," shouted Cypress the moment she barged in the room. Even though she's still a little wet, she had put on her pajamas already.

I sat back up. "Come here, let me dry your hair further," I beckoned.

She sat right beside me. I took her towel and had gently massaged it from her scalp, down to its end as it's shoulder-length. I used to do this to you. The same smoothness of your crown has been inherited by our princess. I ran the towel down her hair one more time.

"Look, Cypress. I had your room cleaned. All of the stuff that you took out from the chest are now piled up. You have nothing to worry about anymore, only the good things that you'll do with your Aunt Claire at the weekend. That's a good problem, right?" I carried her and had made her lie down on her bed. "The night is now deep and you should sleep as deeply."

"Dad, tell me some bedtime stories." Her lips were perched, dimples emphasized, with her hands clasped together.

"Dear, this day has been far too long. You need to wake up early for your class. I'm surprised that you still have the energy for bedtime stories."

"You promised me yesterday that you'll tell me another one."

"I now then promise you that I'll tell you more tomorrow."

"No. I want a bedtime story now." She insisted but yawned immediately after. Her eyelids fall from time to time as well.

"Cover-up then I myself will go get some sleep."

"Dad, please. It might be late for me, but I know this is still early for you."

"I guess I'm held captive? Princess?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Ok, what do you want to hear? I don't have any books with me right now. I'll go get some." As I'm about to stand up, she had grabbed the hem of my shirt.

"You'll not come back If I let you go. I know you'll just escape." She put her hands on her chin and the right lips and cheeks contracted to a dimple. Her eyes wander the ceiling as if she's trying to find a clue that will enable us to weave some stories, much like finding the X of a map that marks the location of a treasure.

"Tell me more about Aunt Claire," she said, finally breaking her silence.

"Claire? You want your nighttime story to be Claire?" I was a bit confounded for it was all too sudden.

"Yes, Dad. I have known how kind-hearted she is, how she loves gifts and giving gifts, how she loves toys and talking about summers with me. She said that she also loved watching fireflies sprout out from the ground every summer. And all those times, you were there. I remember one time, I sneaked inside her room and, much like a chest, she hoards a lot of items that seemed very old. Some metals have survived the passing time but their coats didn't. The paint of her toy cars had been scraped-off, but by the looks of it, it might still be able to accelerate. I also saw a soccer ball. I guess she loved the sport which is why she had given me one and has always been happy to play it with me. Then there are also shirts which drawings on them, but unfortunately they are all so thin, if not too tattered."

My eyes opened wider from what I've heard. "It seems to me that you know a lot about her more than I do," I jokingly remarked. "But you said that there are shirts which have drawings on them? By chance does the design have a tree in it? Does it look painted rather than printed? Is the shirt itself white? Maybe the shirt is now small that you can actually have a perfect fit from it."

"Oh yes, Dad."

"We drew that as a promise of our everlasting bond, our friendship through the years. A friend of her mother stepped-up to be her guardian and I haven't seen her here during our middle school years. All those days her grandfather suppressed his loneliness of being away with Claire. Every morning of our talks, I can feel the blue in his eyes. We've exchanged mails and I told all of her stories to her grandpa. You wouldn't believe how excited I was when the mailman arrives, heck even overjoyed more than the old man. I am hoping that he's in a good place now."

Cypress sat on her posterior and even had her pillows piled up as back support, "Now you're talking. Come on …"

"You should lie back down. This is an order as your father and not a protest from someone you held captive. And that is ... if you want to know more about your Aunt Claire."

She brought the cushions down and went to her sleeping position. "Ooh, I remembered Aunt Claire sent a lot of letters before. I don't know why she stopped."

"Probably because she knows you can't read back then." I asked, "Do you mean the ones in envelopes?"

"Yes." Her tone rose.

"I saw them in your dollhouse. But since I already finished tidying things up, I decided to leave them be."

"You don't need to, Dad. It contains messages only grown-ups can talk about. You can't get your hands on them while I'm here. You get me?" She crossed her arms then smirked with overflowing confidence, "Anyway, I can now dance a part of the swan lake, I'm beyond kindergarten now. What made you think I haven't read that long ago?"

"Such a smug one, alright? Can you tell me what Aunt Claire said in it?"

"It is precisely in the letter that I shall not speak of it to you."

What might be inside of it? I didn't even know about those letters until now. It seems to me that these two ladies right here had conspired something behind my back. What do you know? There might even be a fortune inside the queen's chest that is specifically for me.

"Dad... Daaad! You're gonna tell me about Aunt Claire. How you met her and all, right? We seem to be forgetting things."

I guffawed and still can't believe how blunt she became.

She squinted her piercing eyes on me. "I know what you're thinking. Don't even try to steal a letter from me. I'll be mad at you."

The darkness had fully engulfed all the light on our side of the planet. An hour is all that is left till we leave this day behind. Still, Cypress's eyes rival that of the nocturnal avians. Her pupils dilate out of anticipation of the story. Her focus on things when she's interested in something is unbreakable. I still hope for one thing. I still secretly wish that she'll not ask what had happened moments before you left us. Just by thinking about it, I feel the burden became heavier than an anchor capable of mooring even the largest of pirate ships.