Green-Eyed Goblin

 

It had been 28 years since I visited my hometown. So, I was very excited to finally have another chance in December 2025 during our annual family reunion/trip.

Unfortunately, I caught a stomach bug, and it ruined my first few days there in terms of culinary. I’m not someone who prioritizes food, I think eating can be a hassle, and I have never prioritized eating over everything else. However, I have missed my hometown’s food, and it is the best, according to many, including non-locals.

For the first two days, I could barely eat anything. It also reduced my enjoyment because of the pain, but I tried to make the best of it.

Maybe I haven’t been back for too long, maybe my expectation was too high, but I didn’t enjoy the trip the way I thought it would. Everything had changed, and not for the better. There were a few places that were stuck in time, but our house was gone. Flattened to the ground. We could only look at the ruins. My siblings’ last visit was a decade ago, and they still saw it, but not me.

We went there in the night, walking along the street that no longer felt familiar, and I made a turn into the alley where our house was. It was unplanned, because we wanted to come during day time, but I couldn’t stop myself. To my surprise, my two brothers went with me (the youngest one didn’t join this trip), while the rest went to another place along the street.

The three of us stood in front of the ruin, and carefully constructed where everything used to be. The green fence, the dining area, our room, the pipe where I used to climb to the second story (I never used stairs), and the beautiful bougainvillea tree that was growing alongside the back door. The place looked very small now that we had grown up, it used to feel like a castle to me.

I thought I would be sad, but I wasn’t. I had my fun there. We had so many fond memories and mishaps. My adventures with my three brothers were unmatched. All Gen X-ers, and we survived the way Gen X-ers did back then. We had several near deaths between us. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to call them that. Four of us had unknowingly lit a match in a small room under the stairs used for fuel storage. The whole area was filled with gallons of them, and the four of us sat in the middle of them, playing train, and lit up the match because it was dark. The wooden match (the traditional, short match) burned my hand before we managed to light the candle, and I dropped it. It landed on the floor and was extinguished right after. Fortunately, we decided it wasn’t that fun and went out to play something else. We had fallen from the stairs (plural), from the fence, almost drowned inside the water tank, and survived fire on the roof caused by stray fireworks. There used to be a big tree in an empty field in front of our house, and we loved to climb that as well, provoking the whole nest of fire ants and whatever bugs, and that was just Tuesday afternoon.

I remembered lounging inside a fruit basket (yes, it was a gigantic basket), rocking it back and forth while enjoying the night stars in the small terrace. Our second story was not inhabited, and we kids had always believed it was haunted. There were stray cats and other small animals sometimes. Once, my big brother and I heard cats’ sounds and found a batch of kittens inside the top of one of the columns (there was a wooden cladding with an opening). Being helpful kids, we thought the kittens were stuck, so we made those cowboys’ knots to the best of our knowledge (no Google!) and tried to get and rescue the kittens. Well, they didn’t need rescue, the kittens were not abandoned, and we didn’t know how to make a cowboy’s knot. I only remembered my brother’s word asking me to run because he saw a pair of green eyes coming. It was on top of the stairs, and I fell down, hitting every step from top to bottom. There was a scary pair green-eyed goblin coming for us, which was a proper escape plan because it got me to the bottom faster! It was the mother cat, and thankfully, she moved the kitten away because of two nosy kids. The fall? I was invincible back then, not even an ouch. So, the second story was another world altogether. We loved the TV series Fun House and tried to make one there (with barely anything, of course), it became more like a haunted parkour arena.

We shared stories, invented games, because we had nothing else but our creativity to amuse ourselves. One thing was for sure: we were never bored. We were poor, but my childhood was awesome.

So, I thought I would be sad, especially because it caught me off guard looking at the ruins, but I wasn’t. Everyone I love is still in my life, and they are my home wherever I am.

I feel sadder about the town's condition. Yes, there are some upgrades and improvements, but most of those came with hefty prices. The place has become commercialized. Most people left the town, seeking better education and jobs (just like us and our parents), and they are coming back regularly to pay their respects to deceased or left-behind relatives, becoming a gold mine for those who stay.

The humble food stalls I could normally find along the street have a different target now. The prices are jacked up, and the tastes are compromised. Many of them still offer authentic taste, but it’s no longer the same to me. We could casually stroll in everywhere and had the best food, and now, everything feels commercialized. We are guests in our own hometown. Visitors, foreigners who are visiting, and those who are charged premium prices for things we are familiar with. We used to know almost everyone along the street. Now, we didn’t even see the owner of the places. Most of them were run by staff who were not locals. Everything was only business, there were no longer simple home-cooked mom-and-pop stalls.

For me, it means something. I haven’t been able to identify myself with a location because I always look different somehow. It wasn’t a problem for me, until it was. A very significant incident that made me aware of how different I was. Even when I was in a place with people who looked like me, I didn’t speak the language well. I thought my hometown would feel more like home in terms of place familiarity, but it’s no longer the case.

So, I thought the magic was lost, until, fortunately, one day, when my younger brother and I had a chance to visit our old school again. We did in the first two days, but we didn’t go in, and we were in a big group there was not much chance to explore around.

This time, we had an unexpected luck that it was a holiday season, but the school was open for competitive sports that were usually conducted in between semesters. We were free to walk in, and had the time for ourselves to even visit the classrooms, because everyone was in the field and those in lower grades were at home. The classrooms stayed pretty much the same, from the chairs to the chalkboard and teacher’s desk, the window, and the staircase landing, when I spilled my whole bag because it was broken, where everything rolled down the steps. I remember the class where my classmate stuck his little finger into a metal chair, and the fire department was called because they needed to cut the chair. The little patch of green in front of it also remained the same, although it looked tiny now compared to the huge park back then (all about perspective and children's size).

So, although the trip was below expectation in terms of food and places, I was happy to get back to the school, recognize some landmarks here and there, and get to meet my family again.

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BOOKS

What would you do if an alliance of famous close-encounter extraterrestrials started tracking you down with bad intent? Hit man Gary knows what he would do:  

Dish out a lot of pain.

Small town secrets, savory takeout, and a killer on the loose.

A decrepit ship, a misfit crew, an impossible job, the perfect plan. What can go wrong?

BOOK REVIEW: Silent Battle (Olivia Paisley Troy)

 

Silent Battle is a powerful memoir. Written in first-person view, the readers are brought into terrifying stories that, unfortunately, happen everywhere in the world, even in modern times.

The book is hard to read. It makes me angry, not necessarily about how dismissive the mother was in a situation that was obviously not healthy to raise a child, but for the society that failed them, too. It’s probably harder to digest how helpless the situation was in the current world, because we are very connected now. Back then, we didn’t have mobile service, it was not easy to find a public phone, and domestic violence was sometimes brushed aside and considered an internal problem only.

I wish the year could be made aware earlier. It’d make the story more powerful if readers understood the setting from the beginning.

Fortunately, this is an uplifting tale. The main character prevailed; there was a strong support system before it was way too late, and awareness of the need to fight for survival. I admire anyone who can pull their life together after starting from such a difficult, disadvantaged, and horrifying situation. This is definitely an inspiring tale about resilience and survival.

 

 

BOOK REVIEW: To Say Goodbye Again (Jac Winters)

This is a very raw, yet subtle, heartfelt collection of poetry and stories. Every single piece was written with heart and soul, reflecting sadness, sorrow, and vulnerability that touch even the coldest heart.

The Big Ben broke me, and Princess made me silent for a long time.
It’s such a powerful gem.

BOOK REVIEW: Pareidolia (Damir Salkovic)

 

I have no idea what to think after reading this book. I’m not a fan of the horror genre, but I appreciate a good story.

This book pulls me in and throws me into a swirling madness as I follow the protagonist's story. There are times when I’m not sure what is real and what is not, whether he is an unreliable narrator, a drunk, or the most sane person in a room.

The plot is quite close to home, as I myself am a struggling writer, well, of course, I don’t have the previous glory, but it’s very interesting to see the madness unravelled behind a simple concept: a contract that comes at the right time.

This book is full of vivid imagery. I was wary as I read along, not knowing whether the ending would be satisfying. There were times when I felt helpless with a prolonged journey that felt a bit repetitive, but it didn’t last long.

I have read a few of Damir’s books, and I have to say I haven’t been disappointed. I have become a fan of his work, his style, and the richness of his storytelling. I know I wouldn’t be disappointed.

The book has everything horror fans need. In reality, with the mysteriousness around some films in real life, the most notable one being The Exorcist, this story feels too real. I’m glad I read this book mostly during day time.

5 out of 5 stars

BOOK REVIEW: The Coffin Maker (H.G.Ahedi)

The Coffin Maker is a mystery that follows the MC, Angelus, in an investigation of a mysterious murder he stumbles across accidentally. It intrigues his mind, and he is motivated to follow the case even without compensation, especially when he finds a string of similar murders over the years, all unsolved.

 

Although the plot continues to move, the pace feels slow, especially in the beginning and middle of the book. Imo, there are too many detail fillers that can be cut because they make the flow clunky, distracting, and have no impact on the overall plot. Below is one of the examples. The whole section that contains this paragraph can be compacted into a sentence or two.

 

Angelus left Stroudsburg just after dawn, steering east on I-80 as rain streaked the windshield in steady threads. He drove south of the New York line, winding through the back roads of northern New Jersey and across a sliver of eastern Pennsylvania, before merging north on I-87 through the Hudson Valley. The hills were draped in fog, and by the time he crossed into western Massachusetts, the road narrowed between dense stretches of pine. He stopped for coffee near Pittsfield and called Joe for an update on the current cases. Then he pressed on, turning east onto Route 7, and finally crossed into Vermont near Bennington.

 

There is also a feeling of detachment from the main character. Instead of getting into his head, it feels like he is just narrating the event.

 

Fortunately, the ending is decent, with good visuals and action, as the characters become more sympathetic and personable when the stakes are higher. To be honest, everyone around the MC is better than the MC, in terms of skills and their distinguishable traits. The mystery itself is interesting. The clues and developments throughout are well-woven, though the start is slower. It picks up from the middle of the book.

 

3.5 stars rounded up to 4

BOOK REVIEW: Sunset Garden (Peter J. McKenna)

Sunset Garden is a fun book that exceeds my expectations. I can tell that the author is having fun writing it. (And I cheat too, because I read his Afterword).

If you think that a retirement home is boring, this is not the case. Just ask the poor Ernest, who is thrown into an absurd situation straightaway by the mischievous Dorothy (I imagine Betty White as the character, and nothing can change my mind). Both of them turn into investigators to find out what is actually going on and get to experience the thrill, excitement, and danger.

If I have to nitpick, of course, there are some situations that are questionable, like the lack of other workers in such a big place, because someone like Dorothy would go to them in the first place. It’s also bizarre that, with a large area and plenty of green space, Alistair and Fester don’t do the much-needed gardening and instead choose the much more tedious and expensive method.

 

Putting that aside, I recommend this book. Besides the humor and lightheartedness, it touches on a delicate social situation that becomes more realistic as people age. Loneliness, manipulation, health problems, and life struggles. Not to mention the actual case of fraud and mistreatment at senior homes and childcares.

 

I like the characters, the flows, the pace, and bits of side stories that all end up relevant to the plot. The book is easy to read and entertaining.

5 out of 5 stars

BOOK REVIEW: Akula (Arnar Vik)

 

What a ride. A fast-paced, gripping espionage and political thriller that stands too close to reality.  The plot revolves around a power struggle to get hold of some evidence that could lead to international conflicts and wars.

 

There are so many details in the first part of the book, including some unfamiliar terms. It takes a while to learn their sides, roles, and parties involved, but once the story moves along, everything falls into its place. All the intertwining incidents from various POVs are the strongest factor in this book. New characters appear throughout the span of the story, but they fit well into their roles, and no one overstays their welcome.

 

Unfortunately, the book is not easy to read because of the lack of formatting. The jumble of words without paragraphs and chapter breaks makes it a strain in the eyes. Fortunately, the story is very engaging and well-written, with a lot of real-life information to learn from. The submarine and what happens inside it led me to have a new favorite villain.

 

The ending is realistic, and everyone with a good head on their shoulder would know that this kind of cover-up exists. While the fate of one main character is very questionable and feels like plot armor, it opens up to the possibility of a sequel.

4 submarines out of 5 search parties