Chapter One
 
A star has five lights. Noland thinks it so it must be true. Angels live in stars, with fire in their chests. So when they breathe, the sky twinkles. Noland thinks hard what he can't say as he runs from car to car, peddling his own version of stars. Around him, the festive business rises to fever pitch—"Only six days to Christmas, ma'am, sir, so you're getting these cheap. You can't miss out, only six days."
 
How dare anyone miss out? At this intersection of the highway, star lanterns made of translucent capiz shells outshine each other, desperate to be sold. Red, green, gold, and pearly white blink and whirl with electric lights, like stained glass on speed. The shoppers' faces catch the glow. So does Noland's. It is a solemn face, like those of plaster saints who endure years of silent watching.
 
"Hoy, you're blocking my customers!" a stall owner scolds the boy, who steadies his wooden cart of lanterns. His are made of Japanese paper, small stars with two frilly tails instead of lights. "Are you serious?" one shopper asks, looking incredulously from the boy's simple wares to the giant creation she bought for six thousand pesos. Heaven should be grand, boy, and bringing it down to earth is costly business. "Hoy, over here!" a man calls out from an old Mitsubishi. Finally, a customer. "How much?" he asks, while peeling a pork bun.
 
Noland raises five fingers thrice to indicate fifteen pesos.
 
Intent on his dinner, the man does not see the price. "How much?" he asks again. Noland raises his palm close to the man's face, repeating the gesture.
 
The man pauses, stares—
 
Palm as small as a star, star as small as a c...