Three Lights at Midnight

The villagers and farmers stood at their windows for a second straight night. Across the bay from their bario, about half a day's walk away, was another rustic little Filipino fishing village. Both were quaint little places with hand made huts of bamboo and palm leaves. All full of happy, smiling children unaware of their own poverty. They had never known life with convenience or electricity. Ignorance was truly bliss.

But this night and the last were truly peculiar. Lights could be seen in the village in the distance. Music could be heard playing, and even unrecognizable voices could be heard laughing and singing. But the lights weren't flickering like fire, but burning brightly like nothing they had ever seen before.

The first night they thought that maybe there was some wedding or celebration. But a two night party was truly something huge. Something they surely would have heard about. But everything across the bay both surprised and amazed them.

Then, as midnight approached, the party, just like the night before, showed signs of winding down. Lights would slowly disappear from the corners as darkness would creep toward the center. Just as the last light burned out and the last song was sung, right at the strike of midnight just like the night before, three bright lights shot up into the sky. Then everything was silent once again.

The villagers were buzzing the next day about the huge party across the bay. Their curiosity was peaked. It must be some great visitor, they thought. Rumors spread about who this visitor might be. The president? A dignitary? Their curiosity, at times, gelled into envy.

Everyone stayed up with their children on the shores of the bay that night. Children held their mother's hands when not playing in the glowing water. Then it started. It seemed to be a carbon copy of the previous nights. They knew just when a certain tune would be played or when a certain light would dance. Then, at midnight, it all ended the same way. Three lights shot up into the sky only to be followed by silence.

My grandfather was and elder of the village, so the next day he was selected to make the trek to the village across the bay to inquire what was going on. They walked briskly through the forest when, about halfway to their destination, they ran into some guys from the other village.

They exchanged greetings before my grandfather asked, "What's the occassion going on in your village? Is there some visitor? Or a wedding?"

The other villager looked strangely at my grandfather. "No one. We were just wondering about your party."

"Party?"

The other villager smiled as if remembering it in his head. "Those lights and that music over the last three nights." He laughed. "We've hardly been able to sleep."

"The lights..." my grandfather whispered to himself.

He looked at his men, who were silent in their own amazement. My grandfather smiled. "Well, we have our answer." He turned around, thanked the other villagers and walked home.

The sun was on the water when they returned to their own village. Everyone stood at the shore once again. My grandfather, seeing this, took my mother aside and said, "Come home. There won't be any lights tonight."

"Why, papa?" my mother asked.

He squinted his eyes and looked across the dark bay. "I just know..." he finished before walking back inside.

And he was right. Those strange lights, which to this day still go unexplained, never showed themselves again.