“Wake up, please. Please.”
“Quiet Annabeth.”
“She needs to…”
The voices seemed distant. My eyes fluttered open. A face was inches from mine, gray eyes full of concern.
“Oh,” the blond girl said. She sat on the chair on my left.
“Annabeth,” I croaked. My voice didn’t sound like mine. I sounded like a defective CD being played.
I squinted at the boy standing behind her. “Uh, Percy?”
“Yeah. Sure glad you’re awake, sis,” he said. We hugged and he sat on my bed.
“My glasses,” I said, trying to reach my side table. My left shoulder groaned. For the first time, I noticed that my left arm was on a cast.
Percy helped me back to my pillows. “Take it easy, you know. And you use contacts, not glasses.” He fished a box from the drawer.
“I’ll put them on, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said, taking the small box from Percy. “You might hurt your sister’s eyes.” She put a surgical glove on. “Okay. I’m gonna hold your left eye and put the lens in. Just look at the ceiling and stay still.”
I blinked as soon as Annabeth’s fingers came close. She glared at me in frustration.
“Okay, I’ll try not to blink,” I said. I gripped my sheets and willed my eyes to stay open as Annabeth’s fingers came near. I thought of the ocean and the nice sea breeze. I imagined the waves obeying me. I heard the roar in my ears.
“Done,” Annabeth took the glove off.
“Look out!” Percy said.
Before either of us could process what he said, Annabeth gasped as water hit her smack dab in the face. The glass on the table was empty.
Jeez, I’m sorry, I thought.
S’okay, Percy replied in my mind.
Everything was much clearer now. The infirmary was empty except for us. The wind sent a cool breeze into the room. Percy had a wide grin and his eyes gleamed; Annabeth’s face was dripping wet.
“What were you thinking doing that?” she demanded, wiping her face with a hankie.
“Sorry Annabeth. I thought of the ocean while you put my contacts in. Had no idea the water in the glass would obey. And thanks for putting my lenses.”
Her semi-angry face broke into a smile. “No problem. I’m glad you’re alive. I bet Dr. Thorn isn’t so smug right now.”
“Whoa. Dr. Thorn? You mean—”
I was cut short as Chiron clip-clopped into the infirmary. He was wearing a T-shirt that read PROFESSOR CENTAUR.
“Hello, child,” he said. His face was obviously relieved, “I’m glad you’re awake at last. How are you?”
“Hi Chiron. I’m sore.” It came out worse than I meant to and he raised an eyebrow.
Oops, someone’s got a bitter tone, Percy thought playfully.
The old centaur smiled faintly, which made me feel guilty.
“You’d better start your cabin inspection, my boy,” Chiron pointedly told Percy. “You have enough time for that. Archery won’t start until after lunch.” His tone made it clear that no wasn’t an answer.
“Oh, right,” my brother said, “um, see you, sis.” I’ll fill you in on our quest later. He winked and left.
Annabeth stood up too. “I should really get going. I’ll see if my siblings cleaned the cabin. Later, Nami.”
"Hey!" Annabeth stuck her tongue out. Nami is short for Tsunami, much like Percy is Seaweed Brain.
Chiron knelt on his front legs so we were almost level. At least he didn’t tower over me.
“Chiron,” I started, “Annabeth said something about Dr. Thorn.”
Then I remembered something. “The exams at my school… jeez, my teacher will have my head soon.” How in the name of Poseidon will I explain why I was gone for a month?
“Hush, child. Everything is sorted out. I spoke to your teacher, and he has agreed to let you take another exam.”
“You did that? And he bought it? Just like that?”
Chiron’s eyes twinkled. “I merely told Chris that you were called by your brother and cousin due to a family emergency.” He smiled, “I will teach you how to manipulate the Mist when the time is right.”
I stared at him. “Wow. You manipulated the Mist… I can take the exam... and you’re on first name terms with him? What did you say your name was?”
“Chiron Brunner. He was surprised a little, but he got over it.”
“He didn’t ask why I was called all the way up here?”
“Not when he knows that you are in a life-or-death situation.”
“You told him—”
Chiron laughed, “No, child. All Chris knows is that you have an important family matter to attend to.”
“Annabeth said something about Dr. Thorn,” I went on.
Chiron glanced at the door nervously. “Let’s talk about the monster later.” He cleared his throat, “Your teacher also mentioned a few things. Something about linguistics?”
I groaned. Chris Esguerra is this teacher at the school I attend. He’s nuts about me learning Filipino. “It is your language,” he constantly said.
“It’s just… I dunno. I find English easier than Filipino,” I confessed. Chiron stroked his beard. “I understand. “You were exposed to English books and stuff, but he has a point. You should learn your language.”
I stared at him; I couldn’t believe he was telling me to do something that gave me frustration and trouble. “I find it difficult, Chiron. I mean, it’s not like learning Greek. At least Annabeth didn’t teach me curses and nobody laughed at me when I misused words. When I use Filipino, I get into trouble so often. So I just use English when I speak and keep Filipino to a minimum.”
“Filipino is the language of your country. It is who you are.”
“Right,” I muttered.
“You should still learn the language, Ivy. It is like Greek. It’s part of you.”
“No way I’m gonna do it, Chiron,” I said stubbornly. “My first Filipino word was really bad, and I dearly paid for that. I’m not in for another misadventure. Plus, words swim off the page and I lose patience to learn.”
“English words float off pages too, don’t they? But you are doing very well,” Chiron pointed out.
I couldn’t answer. Chiron had nailed me. It was real hard to hide anything from a guy who has been teaching for three thousand years.
He thought for a moment. “Tell me, does Chris bore you with his lectures?” he asked.
I smiled, “No, he’s cool. I mean, he doesn’t stare at us like ‘I am the boss in this class.’ You guys are alike; he tells jokes and tones down the formality aura of the classroom.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“With Filipino, I fight constantly with my fear of saying wrong words at the wrong time. I… there’s this battle in my mind. Is this correct or wrong? Will I offend this person or not? I’m not sure if the constant dilemma is a part I want. But he hits me constantly with it. Hints in class, stuff. Right now, I don’t feel like learning the language. ”
Chiron gave a faint smile. “The sea doesn't want to be restrained.” He laughed, “You are really your father’s daughter. But seriously, child, do learn Filipino. It will be good for you, and Chris apparently is convinced so. I know when a teacher is trying.”
“I don’t want any more trouble at school,” I said flatly, “people reprimand me because they don’t understand me. I already told him that; the guy just won’t take a hint.”
Chiron face turned so serious. I thought he’d chew me out, but he merely took a deep breath. “You know why I still teach today?” he asked. “It gives me fulfillment in seeing those I train bring the hopes of humankind to the level of the gods.”
“What d’you mean?”
“You constantly battle evil. You stay human…. As your trainer, it is my responsibility to ensure that you get the best education you can have.”
“And you never leave us alone until we see your point and do exactly what you say,” I muttered.
“Because you are not merely half-bloods-in-training to me. Camp is my family. I care about every half-blood who I train, and I exert every effort to ensure that everyone isn’t… led astray. However, it is you who decides for yourself. You can get all the training camp has to offer, but at the end of the day, it is your call. I have no power over you.”
Once a teacher, always a teacher, I thought. Chiron’s words sounded eerily close to the sentiments of my teacher in school. I stared at him, “Uh, Chiron, what are you um… getting at?”
“Maybe Chris has more on his mind than the lessons he teaches you. Maybe he looks at the bigger picture…outside the confines of the classroom…. Teachers instruct you. Here at camp, I train and educate you. But as I said, it is still the trainees’ choice.” He sighed, “And sometimes those choices aren't so good.”
“Chiron, what—”
Chiron looked me in the eye, and I looked into those sad brown eyes. I could see thousands of years of teaching, of watching half-bloods come and go. A tear trickled down his face and I realized—shocked—that he was actually crying. I’d never seen him like this; the old guy was always upbeat. I could only surmise he was thinking about Luke and the other campers who’d gone over to the Titans. I wondered if he considered it his failure. Chiron’s eyes were so intense I was scared to ask.
I wondered too, if my teacher back home considered me a failure. A question ran through my mind: Will I be like Luke? Will I choose what is wrong too? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Chiron’s words were like electric shock.
I don’t know if I would learn to love something that gave me trouble. Only time will tell. The linguistic wounds are still there, and all I know is I despise the thing my teacher wants me to do. Then again, it isn't everyday that I find a staff in the bookstore who doesn't scratch her head when I ask for assistance, in English. And I can’t ride a cab without the driver stammering. Or do the grocery without the sales people staring at me scrambling for words. So maybe I could learn Filipino, for practical reasons.
“You should hear him comment about this,” I muttered. “My teacher, I mean. The fact that it takes—how does he say it—a Westerner to knock some sense into me. He’d probably gun me down with words and dramatic stuff.”
Chiron smiled, “The reward I get from teaching half-bloods is fulfillment with what you do. You constantly fight for what is good. And I know that you will do what is right.”
He looked me in the eye again. His gaze felt like laser. I silently prayed I could bring myself to do what I have to.
A conch horn sounded. “Good-bye for now, dear. Archery will start soon.” He fished out a small bottle from his pouch and poured the contents into the glass. “Take this. For a dreamless sleep. You’ll need all the rest you can get.”
“Thanks Chiron.”
It seemed like ten seconds when I heard voices again. Percy and Annabeth were back.
“Wake up, please. Please.”
“Shhh.”
“Annabeth?” I asked groggily.
“Annabeth who? I’m Glai. Wake up, come on.”
My cousin Abner and his wife Glai stood before me, their young son in her arms.
“The air conditioner did its job,” Abner remarked. “You feel better?”
“Yeah,” I said. I sat up.
“We’re going to the airport in an hour,” Glai said, “hit the showers fast.”
That being said, we should call the celebration the way it is named: Christmas. It is not merely a holiday. It is about Christ. A chance to reflect on His gift: to accept or not to accept--that is the question. Come to think of it, without Christ, we would not be celebrating something on the 25th of December. There would be no Christmas. 
