Therapeutic massage was the current fad, and everyone from wealthy trophy wives to athletes to millionaires to business tycoons were taking part.

A balding man with large belly walked in. He perused their menu of various massage techniques and told the receptionist he'd like a one hour Swedish massage.

He was asked to sit for a moment at the reception area and soon Kit appeared wearing white scrubs, looking at his duly filled chart.

"Hi, I'm Marikit and I'll be your masseuse for today," Kit greeted casually which the man returned with a polite smile.

Kit brought the chart back to the reception desk and came back with a set of foot wash bowl with warm water and flowers floating in it. She slipped off his slippers and upon placing his feet into the large bowl, she began to wash his feet. After patting his feet dry with a towel she gave him a clean pair of slippers and gestured him to enter one of the massage rooms.

The entire room was dimly lit with candle-lite and smelled of lavender with soft music playing in the background.

Kit looked around the room, ensuring it was in readiness for her client's convenience. She always took the extra trouble of learning what their preferences were. Which scents to use for both oils and incense, if they preferred. Whether they liked to vent their own stories or listen to her idle chatter, or have soothing music instead. None of those were technically part of a therapeutic massage, but Kit added them in to make the overall experience one of both physical and mental relaxation.

The man followed her to the massage bed and she handed him the towel. "I'll leave you to change."

He nodded, already removing the buttons of his shirt.

Kit closed the door softly behind her and stood with her back braced against it.

Figuring that the man had had enough time to change, she returned to the room to find him laying down with his face in the hole on the massage bed with the towel across his ass.

She tried not to let her eyes stray to the table where she knew his clothes would be resting, but she couldn't help it. You can tell a lot about people by the way they take care of their belongings. If the clothes are neatly folded and stacked, the person is most likely very particular about life in general. A person like that often has pretty tight muscles that require hard pressure. When people toss their clothes in a careless heap, they're usually the impulsive, spontaneous type and with a slight pressure, their willing muscles will get back on track.

Not surprised at all, the man's clothes were tossed in carelessly on the table.

Kit warmed up the oil before applying it to his right leg. As the sandalwood scented massage oil was applied, the man moaned throatily in approval.

"Are there any areas you wanted to work on or I should avoid?" Kit asked as her hands slowly loosened his tight muscles.

"No," was the usual answer.

She began to massage first his back. The man relaxed slightly as Kit's expert hands worked his tense muscles hitting every spot.

Kit wished the man were one of his many clients who doesn't need a steady flow of words during their session. She wouldn't have to focus her mind on the weather, latest news or stories of recent adventures. She was glad, the man seemed to dislike idle chatter, and certainly wasn't one to volunteer much himself, so Kit enjoyed working in silence.

She continued with long strokes up the man's back on either side of his spine, using the heels of her hands to provide firm pressure but not at the deep tissue level.

Her touch was slow and firm, drawing from occasional contented sigh or moan. The tightness in his lower back eased as she pressed ever harder, releasing the tension.

Soon she was standing barefooted on top of his calves and made her way to the small of his back, standing atop him as she steadied herself somehow.

Good thing, she was ideally 120 pounds for being 5 feet 7 inches tall or else she'd break the man's spine as she rested her weight mostly on her heels.

Later on, she moved to his legs and arms, leaning in with her weight as he was twisted in various ways to stretch out his joints and ligaments.

Half way into the massage, Kit said, "Sir, it's time to turn over." And she held the sheet aloft, screening him, as he repositioned.

She put a warm towel over his eyes and immediately went to work on his legs. Kit continued to work in silence, speaking only when needed, up to his chest, neck and face.

After an hour, the timer went off, signaling the end of the one hour session.

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have today," Kit said as soon as she finished in time with the soothing background music.

She asked his guest to sit up, left and returned with a tray upon which was a cup of hot tea with some flowers. She also gave her guest a warm towel to wipe away the last of the scented oil from every part of him.

"Have a good day, Mr. Solis," Kit bid before closing the door to leave the man change in privacy.

***

The resort Kit worked at charged 2000 pesos for an hour massage, and though they paid Kit less than half of that, the tips were often almost as much as the massage itself so she easily made almost double of what she had been making as a professional masseuse.

Her tips alone were paying for her tuition and books for the semester. It also helped for everyday needs of their family.

Kit came from a family of farm laborers, the middle child of five siblings. They lived in a nipa hut far away from the crowded cities. Her parents' source of living is mostly from farming rice and driving a tricycle, earning a very little money.

Born to young parents, who left school and worked as an unskilled laborer at a tender age of 15, she was the first and the only member of her family to go to university. Her elder brother, Melchor, went to Manila to work in a soda factory and while her elder sister, Maningning, was a masseuse like her in Thailand.

Kit liked working at Kent's Resort and Spa, in general, seeing the mixture of people and learning from her experiences but she still wanted to finish college and have a career that will get her family out of poverty and away from the hopeless place they lived in, so she thought.

She gathered up the laundry bag of sheets and towels and headed home as soon as her shift was finished.

On her way home, she caught sight of a fire somewhere consuming a farm or a forest. The hairs on her arms bristled.

She could feel the wind and it wasn't wind from outside the hotel. It was wind and heat from the flames.

"Fire! fire!" someone called out.

The blinding flame illuminated the night sky. The glare of the flame lit up the small town.

Kit got off the tricycle she was riding on and walked briskly. The fear began bubbling inside her as she neared the area. She was almost running to get to their house.

The air smelled of smoke that burned her nose as she came closer to the area. Her legs had gone numb over the past few minutes running faster than she'd ever run in her life. Her lungs were burning, legs aching, heart pounding like a jackhammer inside her chest.

Her heart wouldn't stop pounding frantically as she tried to breathe evenly so her heart would go back to normal, but it only got louder the harder she tried.

"Nay...Tay..."

It took her a second or two to look around her when she arrived at the scene. All Kit could hear was the blood rushing in her ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood.

Each and every person was helping to put out the fire but the heat and wind were slowing their efforts to douse the leaping flames.

Kit watched in horror as their home burned down. The entire house was aflame.

She tried to run into the burning house to save her family trapped inside but it was too late.

It took four people to restrain her and calm her down. Within a few minutes, the fire was put out with the effort of the town people.

Kit sank down to the ground and broke down.

She couldn't hear them anymore. Her heart pounded away, crashing in her ears and the space around her.

====

Filipino Terms: 

Nay - mother 

Tay - father 

A/N: 

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