The shard!
Phew! Maisie thought as she scooped it up and carefully slid it back on the thread, making sure to triple-knot it this time.
From one of the huts, a woman ran out. She wore a white cotton blouse over a sarong and a heavy, intricately beaded necklace. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head. Maisie couldn’t tell if the woman was angry or worried, but her face was creased with some emotion.
“How did you get inside?” the woman said in perfect English as she kneeled beside Maisie.
Still nauseated, Maisie just shrugged.
The woman offered Maisie cold water from a small cup made out of a coconut shell. Maisie sipped it gratefully.
“Are the people already lined up?” the woman asked her.
Maisie tried to make sense of what she was being asked, but couldn’t.
“Where am I?” Maisie asked the woman.
The woman smiled. “Ah! You don’t even know which exhibit this is, do you?”
Exhibit? Maisie thought, but before she could say anything, the woman continued.
“This is the Philippine village,” she said as if that explained everything. “We are the Igorots.”
“Uh-huh,” Maisie said, struggling to make sense of this new information.
“Are your parents outside?”
“Yes,” Maisie said. After all, her parents were outside. Whatever “outside” meant.
The woman patted Maisie’s arm. “It is easy to get lost, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes,” Maisie agreed.
From the distance, Maisie heard Felix shout: “There she is!”
At the sound of her brother’s voice, Maisie felt immediately better.
“This is my brother,” she told the woman, who had turned toward Felix’s voice.
“What in the world . . . ,” Maisie began, for once again she could not believe what she saw.
Felix was walking toward her, flanked on each side by one of the Filipino natives. Except, the man and woman were only about two feet tall. And even more strange, they were dressed like a bride and groom.
“That is Juan de la Cruz and his sister, Miss Martina,” the woman explained. “They were born in the village of Tanlalgan in Capiz, a province of our country. Their parents, their three brothers and sisters, all of them are normal size. But these two are the smallest adults alive in the world.”
“Wow,” Maisie managed to say.
“These little people have everything we have. Every limb and muscle and bone and organ.” The woman smiled. “Although they may be more intelligent than some of us. They speak three of the dialects of the Philippine languages: Tagalog, Visayan, and Pampangan. And Spanish and English.”
As the trio approached, Maisie stood on her wobbly legs, towering over Miss Martina and Juan. Still, she reached out, shook their hands, and said, “Pleased to meet you.” Juan’s hand was so small that it felt like a little boy’s. He appeared to weigh no more than fifteen pounds. But when he spoke, his voice was as deep as a man’s.
“We found your brother wandering the village,” he said, smiling.
Maisie glanced at Felix, who had a bewildered look on his face.
“Yes, Juan,” Maisie said. “Felix tends to wander.”
Felix looked even more bewildered.
“How do you know his name?” Felix asked Maisie.
“She told me,” Maisie said, cocking her head toward the woman. “And his sister is Miss Martina.”
Miss Martina chuckled. “People always think we’re married to each other,” she said. “What a relief for someone to know our true relationship. In fact,” she added with a twinkle in her eye, “his wife, Gregoria, is as tall as you.”
“Really!” Maisie said.
“Wait a minute,” Felix said. “Are you actually having a conversation with them? I don’t get it.”
Maisie rolled her eyes. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I? You’re the one just standing there, being rude.”
“Rude?” Felix said, exasperated.
The woman who had helped Maisie smiled. “Would you like Miss Martina and Juan to lead you out of the exhibit?”
Maisie waited for Felix to answer.
“Well?” she said after he just stood there, staring stupidly.
“Well, what?” he demanded.
“What is wrong with you?” Maisie asked him. “Should Miss Martina and Juan get us out of here? Even though we don’t know what’s on the other side of that fence?”
Felix’s gaze followed where she was pointing. A wooden fence lined the periphery beyond the thatched-roof huts.
“I mean,” Maisie continued in a lower voice, “I don’t know why she keeps calling this an ‘exhibition.’ Do you?”
“How do you know what she calls it?” Felix shrieked.
“Because I’m paying attention, unlike some people!”
“Wait,” Felix said more calmly. “Beyond that fence there’s a big building with a white roof. Almost like a mansion or a museum or something. Look.”
Maisie stared harder.
“You’re right,” she agreed.
“What did you say she calls this place?” Felix asked.