An American singing group asked in their song “How many miles must a man walk before he will go to his grave?” I for my self have an answer to their question.
Let me compute. After I came back to my home town in April, 1993, from a sedentary office work in the corporate office of a shipping company in Manila, I began to develop into an orchard of mango, santol and lanzones a family land of about 3 hectares. The land is 2.5 kilometers more or less from home. From April, 1993 up to now, October, 2010, that is a total of 17 years and 6 months. I walked the distance going there and coming back for a total of 5 kilometers every day. If I have walked 300 days of the 365 days of a year, I must have walked 1500 kilometers a year. Multiply that by 17 years and 6 months, I must have walked 26,250 kilometers. That’s only a period of 17 years and 6 months and I am still long from going to my grave.
In Manila, for nearly twenty years, I had to walk almost if not more than a kilometer from where I lived at Dominga Street to the corner of Vito Cruz and F. B Harrison Streets to get my ride to work. I must be credited for more that 12,000 kilometers for that. My total walked distance by now including those walks in Manila, must be 38,250 kilometers, and that’s my answer to the American singing group’s question in their song although measure is in kilometers, not miles. (This is where the Americans prefer to fall behind the rest of the world by not going metric.)
The Earth is estimated to be only a little more than 40,000 kilometers to circle from one point and back on straight line. With my total estimated walked distance of 38,250, I am about through circling the earth.
The achievements of American walkers, walking East to West are nothing compared to mine. John Arum couldn’t even complete his own East to West walk; he went to his grave walking his walk. The achievements of Russian walkers walking without stopping for months as preparation for escape out their country on foot, are also nothing compared to mine.
I’m still far from going to my grave. If I could still walk for the next 20 years unless the world ends by 2012 as the Aztecs predicted, I might have began my second circling of the Earth.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
THE UNWALKED JOURNEY
This is now the 14th morning that his voice isn’t heard over the loudspeaker by the church belfry. Some town residents are now missing his although uncultured nevertheless stentorian voice. In the Ave Maria as the dawn rosary begins, he blends his voice with a woman’s voice who does the first voice. This is now the 14th morning because he began to entertain thoughts that it is wrong to wake at three thirty in morning, walk fifteen minutes on a footpath to the church to pray the rosary. And the cold morning dew on the vegetation along the path activates bacterias and fungi on his skin making sensation that needs scratching. And it ate up some of his health too. He never went to a doctor but he felt some changes in his body. The right thing to him now is if he has to pray, he will pray because he woke; not to wake to pray.
Finding something worthwhile to do, he looked at his ukulele. He got up, unhooked it from a nail and tried if it is tuned. And then he made up in his mind something he’d always wanted to do.
As always the morning was cold and threatening to rain. And the feeling was contagious. The tingkiling cicadas named for the sounds they make, those insects science says wait for seventeen years to be of mating age and whose eggs need twenty five years to hatch, aren’t blending their noise with silence. Sounds crappy but what science said isn’t necessary to be doubted. Every year there are new cicadas that get to be seventeen years to become reproductively mature and there are cicada eggs that are through with their twenty five year wait to get to hatch into new cicadas. Just like when science say dinosaurs existed some one hundred and twenty to sixty five million years ago. The estimate is so safe to be proven wrong with the huge range of time it is telling the dinosaurs were around.
And the rain began to fall as it threatened when he got far from his home but not far enough yet to lose sight of his house. The two buli palms which are always of the same silhouette shape were not yet blurred by distance. He looked back and the distance reduced the size of his house. It was all alone among a forest of young trees and old coconuts whose trunks had been likewise reduced in size by distance. Its light materials thatched with talahib grass made it look like a used nest where fledglings were once reared and have abandoned when flying lessons their mothers taught was fully gained.
It’s the early days of December probably the last rain for Earth to fill its last bottles to journey its own Sahara in its orbit. This is December and kite fliers mostly adults have been waiting. Children only assist in launching the kites. Kites, those little paper suspended in the air with a string by the blowing of the winds; that little piece of paper an American liar said he flew in a thunderstorm to prove that lightning is a kind of electricity, like he can summon lightning when he wants it and where he wants it; like it’s possible to fly a kite in a thunderstorm when the wind is so strong. The wind has reversed direction blowing east to west. The rain got stronger but he wasn’t helpless from getting wet. The giant leaves of wild, inedible beets lined the path he walked. While agricultural science has yet to discover its use, the Subanos, this man's people, were already using its itchy flesh to control mice that steal their crops. They lace food baits with the white flesh of the beet that when the mice eat it, the mice will then be doing nothing but scratch itch all over their body until they die of hunger. He could get one leaf to protect himself from the rain.
A man cleaving coconuts with an ax by the side of the path was hopeful the rain won’t be pouring long. He was as hopeful as Noah. He had to, to dry the kernels into copra. The Bible didn’t say anything about where the rainbow appeared. But the world is yet to see a rainbow appearing in the north or in the south. The rainbow God showed to Moses was a sign that he is through with his wrath should have appeared either in the east or in the west. And it got into this man’s mind that the rain won’t indeed be long. He proceeded without taking a beet leaf. His ukulele hangs from his shoulder; no rain can destroy his ukulele. And he allowed the rain to wet him. And indeed the rain wasn’t long and the day gibbous moon slowly appeared in the sky halfway between zenith and western horizon. He was wet but he kept going, avoiding the town until he was far enough that nobody knows who he is, did he head for the highway. He wanted to avoid the town entirely but all he could do is walk where there are only a few people. He will be a fool to them; their dependence on rational minds made them incapable of understanding what he will be doing because it is indeed a foolish thing to do this thing he intends to do. And with the thoughts he had in his mind, he is indeed a fool as far as rational mind is concerned. It’s a Friday but he doesn’t wonder why it is a Friday. It is a Friday because yesterday was a Thursday and Saturday comes only tomorrow. He is not known to be like what he intends to do as far as his own town is concerned. As he gained distance from the town, he became more and more stranger to people along the way until no one cares about him anymore. His mountain ukulele of coconut shell and g-melina neck still hangs on his back. He made it himself as mountain ukuleles are self-made and to each his own design. His is badly made but this is all his artistry could craft. His care for his his ukulele like an expensive musical instrument ended as he intends now to put it to good use. No rain, no sunshine can destroy it. He walked without particular direction but he kept going like a butterfly that knows where it is going and where it is coming back. His faded golfers’ cap protected his head from the sun and its torn visor concealed his face from anybody who might still recognize him. He continued to walk without looking but his ears waits for approaching passenger bus going his way. He knew the sound of the vehicle he needed. Right of him was the north with the sea that goes to nowhere but to the horizon. Left of him is the plane that gradually upgraded into hills and then into mountains. The highway seemed to go straight to where the sun sinks at twilight. And then a red bus with the exact sign board on the windshield exactly where he intended to go approached. He waved his hand. He didn’t look neither a beggar nor a fool yet and so the bus stopped for him. And at last he was free from any uncomprehending watching eyes. He settled in the rear seats. He placed his ukulele and his bag in his lap resting his arms over it to keep it from slipping. And then he opened his bag, touched a thing inside to check that it is there and to feel its thickness. He closed the bag back gently sliding the zipper head to the other end. He settled back and got asleep.
It was past 1 o’clock when he got to the place. His hunger for the noontime meal passed without sating. It was beneficial to the intentions he had mind. It was a little city with only a few trees growing perhaps prices of land here have become too high to grow trees for shade or trees aren’t necessary -- buildings have their shadows. At the shadow of one building, she softly tried his ukulele out of habit if it’s tuned. And then he approached an establishment – a tiny drugstore and began to sing.
Silaw sa bitoon
Kahayag sa bulan
Ikaw pinangga, mao’y saksi ‘ning dughan
Sa likod nianang mga kabukiran
Naa dinha ang lungsod sa Labangan
Mao’y pinuyanan sa akong hinigugma
Sayon unta adtoon kung ako usa ka agila.
Didto padulong gikan dinhi akong lak’ton
Ang magagiya kanako (spoken)
Silaw sa bitoon
Ang magtultol kanako (spoken)
Kahayag sa bulan
Ikaw pinangga mao’y saksi ning dughan
He was about to begin another song but the tindera was already approaching. She handed him a yellow coin as the cashier before her cash register gave him a bad, look for he doesn’t look unhealthy to be begging if what he did was begging and it was too early to be caroling if what he did was caroling. He got his song finished not because they liked his song, but because the cashier was busy with the cash register. But it was to him a success enough to encourage him to try on another establishment. Nothing encourages more than success. He walked, away from that store where he won’t be heard singing the same song. It was a bank, a rural bank by status, but has its building of five stories, a newly finished building. He began to sing before the security guards, two outside and another two behind the glass door. But this one is a failure, the security guard told him to come back when the misa de gallo begins.
He turned to leave with only an agreeing nod as his goodbye as the guard closed the glass door.
The highway has ended at the center of the mountain town and the next town at the other side of the province connects with an unpaved provincial road graveled and badly maintained. This road is either dusty or muddy. This is November the beginning of the dry months that will last until April. He's nearly an authentic beggar now for having not changed clothes for three days. Some of the dust he stirred as he steps the unpaved road settled on his feet and some settled back on ground. Houses along the slowly highway thinned into clusters of three as he gained distance from the city. And as he walked slowly without stopping for days houses were all gone from along the highway. He is dirty almost beyond recognition now in a place nobody recognizes him or anybody to recognize him. He's now in a live dream, not just in a sleep dream where information is erroneously processed by the brain. It's taking place right before his open eyes and wake mind. Dreaming awake is far better than dreaming asleep: vision is clearer. No psychologist have ever said such a word but it's happening to him. A house similar to his house except in size is presently visible. The house at the sight of the man seem to meet him like they were moving to each others direction, like it has something to show to him. And his mind gained the ability to see the inside of the house while still distant. The bamboo slats used as the floor were a little more than inch apart. A portion of the bamboo slat floor has two pieces broken near the sleeping area. And a baby fell from there among the sow and eleven piglets below. The sow had three little ones including the baby. It partook in the suckling of the sow's teat the way the little pigs did. But the baby did not move from one teat to another as humans are the weakest, only its not stupid. Three other houses were visible as landscape changed as he was passed the first house he saw. A little crowd of about seven people were milled around a small table playing cards in a gamble. Ante of coins and a few bills were heaped in the middle of the table. Three were seated, one of them was the mother of the baby. She was deep squinting with her cards. A cigarette with unflicked ash burns between her lips; faint tiny smoke gets into her eyes but she didn't have a third hand to rub the little pains the smoke inflicted. Her husband silently kibitzers behind her back too afraid to say opinions how to handle the cards. He was a fool to them; they were fools to him too. But they were both sane to mind each other. He took one last look at the pigs and the baby in the hope that some eyes among the gambling crowd follow where he looked. They were too occupied to mind a baby either.
The images before him changed as he kept walking. The gravel road began to climb. And then he was walking among trunks of giant banyans, the trees no lumberjacks hasn't the courage to cut down. Only a few rays of sun succeeded in penetrating the sieves of leaves through the ground. He walked slow, as slow as a ship in the horizon like he didn't want to gain distance. He could feel the oxygen released by the trees but he was inadequately educated to know the reason. It was cool like the inside of a mall, but he'd never been to any to know the similarity. He was long in getting to the top of the climb to begin the descend to an unbridged river.
Once he was about halfway, he looked to where the river is coming and where it's going. He thought of walking the river to its source or its estuary. Although this is now December and the rain have stopped coming, this river has the infamy of causing motorcycle riders missing while crossing to the other side as and here's the head of the flood rushing. This man knows to be called smart one should have followed rivers in his lifetime. But he proceeded in crossing; this journey had been unwalked for so long.
The sun was still half a perlicue above the horizon but crepusculars mostly insects and some other creature impossible to locate had began their cacophony of metallic and demonic sounds. He continued walking after he crossed the river but on the look out where to gain invisibility in the night. A giant durian tree no lumberjack would want to cut down provided what he needed. He gathered dead twigs and heaped it. He pulled out from his back bag a lighter made in China, the one that has a little light on one end. He started a fire and when the fire was receding, he scooped his hand cacao seeds at the bottom of his bag. He roasted the seeds on the receding fire. When the seeds sent its sweet aroma to his nostrils he began picking the seeds from the fire, crushed it between his thumb and fingers to peel the chaff and put it his mouth. That was supper. He pushed some fallen leaves with his feet to the fire. He lied, pillowed his head on his bag. As dusk turned to early evening, insect noises changed to crickets and cathydids and other nocturnals like bats fighting for the tasteless fruit of a nearby talisay tree that only bats would fight for. And the luminous fungus brightened as the night deepened the way distant stars do in the sky.
He woke to the calls of birds and soundless noises of the forest morning. It was not intended for him; he just happened to be there. But it was enough to make him feel like a fictional character of tales in the olden times. If there are moments that he would want to live and remain forever, it is these kinds of moments. But this journey, he thought again, had been unwalked for so long to want to live in this moment forever. He heaped the dead embers of last night's fire and lit it. When the fire was steadily flaming he gathered few more dead twigs and put it on top. He opened his bag, got his tin cup out, poured water from a plastic bottle, pushed the bottom of the cup over the fire to let it stand and leave it there. Once more he got his hand inside his bag to touch the ginger inside and brought it out. He peeled it of skin and then crushed it on the durian root with his fist. He put it in the cup and waited, and when he estimated that the water got enough heat from the fire, he picked it up holding the cup with with a folded t-shirt he got from his bag. He sipped his lips on the gingered water, and then he scooped his hand a few cacao seeds from his bag and put it on the receding fire. A few moments later the seeds were ambrosiac. He picked one and began to eat intervaled with the sipping of the cup. That was all his breakfast. He pushed some earth into the dying fire and went back to the road like a ship returning to its course after sheltering from a storm.
The primitive man walked this earth barefoot. He took off his sandals of plasticized rubber and rubberized plastic that was made without consideration to traction. He put it inside his back bag and right away he could feel his attachment to the ground with his bare sole. He's a part of this ground; this ground is made of the same materials as his living body. He walked without stopping and then the runway-straight distance showed a stalled logger truck almost at the other end before the road curved to the left. It was loaded full with logs cut short in short pieces probably as firewood for coconut oil mills nearby. A lone tiny object was moving about the truck trying to do something.
As he neared the trucker, a path that goes inside a mahogany forest was inviting to be followed. Leaves of the past deciduous years accumulated underneath. The path crosses a little brook that silently flows under a footlog. But the man ahead needed help. It was a punctured tire that stalled him. A skinny child was with the driver after all, but he was too light to step on the pipe lever and not strong enough to hold the wrench on the nut. The driver waited his approached. As soon as they were near enough for a smile to be noticed, the driver's face lighted. And then it turned into a smile.
"Hey!" the driver greeted as the journeyer was at speaking distance.
"Hey," the journeyer answered.
"Been here four hours now. If you could step this pipe down while I hold the wrench on the nut to loose it."
"But why you're alone with that boy? Your son?"
The journeyer didn't wait for answer. He went to where he was needed. One after another the nuts were loosened, pulled the punctured tire out and replaced with another, nuts put back and tightened. He looked up at the man while he was still squatting by the tire.
"Thank you," the driver said. "Going far?"
"Yeah."
"Where, if you don't mine."
"I mine, but I still don't know where to go."
The driver smiled almost like a laugh thinking it was a joke or was this an encounter with an insane. The driver turned on the engine and the muffler blew dark smoke out kept there for hours. The truck with its overworked engine struggled to stay alive.
"Really, is next town already near?" they journeyer asked.
"Around 40km from here."
"Good!"
"Good?"
"Yeah, it's good."
"Come ride, come on."
The driver stepped on the clutch and released without shifting the gear lever.
"No. Thanks."
The boy looked ahead through the winshield impatient at the long delay and the driver's difficulty in parting with someone who have given help but doesn't accept help in return.
"Aren't you really going to ride?"
"No. Thank you."
"But it's still 40 kilometers to the next town."
"I don't even want to get there, or to any place."
"Well."
"Just go ahead."
"Thank you so much then for your help."
The driver once more stepped on the clutch and finally shifted the gear lever to first gear, pushed the accelerator, slowly released the clutch and the truck was beating inertia. His left foot went back to the clutch pedal and shifted to second gear. He waved his hand out of his window to gesture his goodbye. And then he glanced at the walker in his side mirror to aside his gratefulness. The driver tried to retain in his mind the face of the walker; so did the walker. And when the truck turned the curve and into a private forest with trees grown by the landowner, both walker and driver became nameless faces in each other life.
The walker trudged on. When it was his turn to turn the curve, he could still see the dust of the truck beginning to settle. The dusk caught him as he approached a UCCP church that had a well and a boy pumping water for his mother to cook the evening pone.
"Asa man ka uncle?" the boy shouted in the local language.
"Didto," the walker answered.
A little farther was a Catholic chapel constructed with materials that do not cost anything. The walls are of the same materials as its thatch. At the entrance hangs a rusty differential shaft discarded by loggers long time ago. A lay minister in charge of the chapel approached the shaft with a long steel in hand to ring the angelus. The bell was clanging not ringing, but it sent the little community into prayer.
TO BE CONT AND TO BE EDITED. AALISIN KO IYONG NAGPALIMOS SIYA, AT IYONG UKULELE, WALA NA DAPAT ANG UKULELE
Finding something worthwhile to do, he looked at his ukulele. He got up, unhooked it from a nail and tried if it is tuned. And then he made up in his mind something he’d always wanted to do.
As always the morning was cold and threatening to rain. And the feeling was contagious. The tingkiling cicadas named for the sounds they make, those insects science says wait for seventeen years to be of mating age and whose eggs need twenty five years to hatch, aren’t blending their noise with silence. Sounds crappy but what science said isn’t necessary to be doubted. Every year there are new cicadas that get to be seventeen years to become reproductively mature and there are cicada eggs that are through with their twenty five year wait to get to hatch into new cicadas. Just like when science say dinosaurs existed some one hundred and twenty to sixty five million years ago. The estimate is so safe to be proven wrong with the huge range of time it is telling the dinosaurs were around.
And the rain began to fall as it threatened when he got far from his home but not far enough yet to lose sight of his house. The two buli palms which are always of the same silhouette shape were not yet blurred by distance. He looked back and the distance reduced the size of his house. It was all alone among a forest of young trees and old coconuts whose trunks had been likewise reduced in size by distance. Its light materials thatched with talahib grass made it look like a used nest where fledglings were once reared and have abandoned when flying lessons their mothers taught was fully gained.
It’s the early days of December probably the last rain for Earth to fill its last bottles to journey its own Sahara in its orbit. This is December and kite fliers mostly adults have been waiting. Children only assist in launching the kites. Kites, those little paper suspended in the air with a string by the blowing of the winds; that little piece of paper an American liar said he flew in a thunderstorm to prove that lightning is a kind of electricity, like he can summon lightning when he wants it and where he wants it; like it’s possible to fly a kite in a thunderstorm when the wind is so strong. The wind has reversed direction blowing east to west. The rain got stronger but he wasn’t helpless from getting wet. The giant leaves of wild, inedible beets lined the path he walked. While agricultural science has yet to discover its use, the Subanos, this man's people, were already using its itchy flesh to control mice that steal their crops. They lace food baits with the white flesh of the beet that when the mice eat it, the mice will then be doing nothing but scratch itch all over their body until they die of hunger. He could get one leaf to protect himself from the rain.
A man cleaving coconuts with an ax by the side of the path was hopeful the rain won’t be pouring long. He was as hopeful as Noah. He had to, to dry the kernels into copra. The Bible didn’t say anything about where the rainbow appeared. But the world is yet to see a rainbow appearing in the north or in the south. The rainbow God showed to Moses was a sign that he is through with his wrath should have appeared either in the east or in the west. And it got into this man’s mind that the rain won’t indeed be long. He proceeded without taking a beet leaf. His ukulele hangs from his shoulder; no rain can destroy his ukulele. And he allowed the rain to wet him. And indeed the rain wasn’t long and the day gibbous moon slowly appeared in the sky halfway between zenith and western horizon. He was wet but he kept going, avoiding the town until he was far enough that nobody knows who he is, did he head for the highway. He wanted to avoid the town entirely but all he could do is walk where there are only a few people. He will be a fool to them; their dependence on rational minds made them incapable of understanding what he will be doing because it is indeed a foolish thing to do this thing he intends to do. And with the thoughts he had in his mind, he is indeed a fool as far as rational mind is concerned. It’s a Friday but he doesn’t wonder why it is a Friday. It is a Friday because yesterday was a Thursday and Saturday comes only tomorrow. He is not known to be like what he intends to do as far as his own town is concerned. As he gained distance from the town, he became more and more stranger to people along the way until no one cares about him anymore. His mountain ukulele of coconut shell and g-melina neck still hangs on his back. He made it himself as mountain ukuleles are self-made and to each his own design. His is badly made but this is all his artistry could craft. His care for his his ukulele like an expensive musical instrument ended as he intends now to put it to good use. No rain, no sunshine can destroy it. He walked without particular direction but he kept going like a butterfly that knows where it is going and where it is coming back. His faded golfers’ cap protected his head from the sun and its torn visor concealed his face from anybody who might still recognize him. He continued to walk without looking but his ears waits for approaching passenger bus going his way. He knew the sound of the vehicle he needed. Right of him was the north with the sea that goes to nowhere but to the horizon. Left of him is the plane that gradually upgraded into hills and then into mountains. The highway seemed to go straight to where the sun sinks at twilight. And then a red bus with the exact sign board on the windshield exactly where he intended to go approached. He waved his hand. He didn’t look neither a beggar nor a fool yet and so the bus stopped for him. And at last he was free from any uncomprehending watching eyes. He settled in the rear seats. He placed his ukulele and his bag in his lap resting his arms over it to keep it from slipping. And then he opened his bag, touched a thing inside to check that it is there and to feel its thickness. He closed the bag back gently sliding the zipper head to the other end. He settled back and got asleep.
It was past 1 o’clock when he got to the place. His hunger for the noontime meal passed without sating. It was beneficial to the intentions he had mind. It was a little city with only a few trees growing perhaps prices of land here have become too high to grow trees for shade or trees aren’t necessary -- buildings have their shadows. At the shadow of one building, she softly tried his ukulele out of habit if it’s tuned. And then he approached an establishment – a tiny drugstore and began to sing.
Silaw sa bitoon
Kahayag sa bulan
Ikaw pinangga, mao’y saksi ‘ning dughan
Sa likod nianang mga kabukiran
Naa dinha ang lungsod sa Labangan
Mao’y pinuyanan sa akong hinigugma
Sayon unta adtoon kung ako usa ka agila.
Didto padulong gikan dinhi akong lak’ton
Ang magagiya kanako (spoken)
Silaw sa bitoon
Ang magtultol kanako (spoken)
Kahayag sa bulan
Ikaw pinangga mao’y saksi ning dughan
He was about to begin another song but the tindera was already approaching. She handed him a yellow coin as the cashier before her cash register gave him a bad, look for he doesn’t look unhealthy to be begging if what he did was begging and it was too early to be caroling if what he did was caroling. He got his song finished not because they liked his song, but because the cashier was busy with the cash register. But it was to him a success enough to encourage him to try on another establishment. Nothing encourages more than success. He walked, away from that store where he won’t be heard singing the same song. It was a bank, a rural bank by status, but has its building of five stories, a newly finished building. He began to sing before the security guards, two outside and another two behind the glass door. But this one is a failure, the security guard told him to come back when the misa de gallo begins.
He turned to leave with only an agreeing nod as his goodbye as the guard closed the glass door.
The highway has ended at the center of the mountain town and the next town at the other side of the province connects with an unpaved provincial road graveled and badly maintained. This road is either dusty or muddy. This is November the beginning of the dry months that will last until April. He's nearly an authentic beggar now for having not changed clothes for three days. Some of the dust he stirred as he steps the unpaved road settled on his feet and some settled back on ground. Houses along the slowly highway thinned into clusters of three as he gained distance from the city. And as he walked slowly without stopping for days houses were all gone from along the highway. He is dirty almost beyond recognition now in a place nobody recognizes him or anybody to recognize him. He's now in a live dream, not just in a sleep dream where information is erroneously processed by the brain. It's taking place right before his open eyes and wake mind. Dreaming awake is far better than dreaming asleep: vision is clearer. No psychologist have ever said such a word but it's happening to him. A house similar to his house except in size is presently visible. The house at the sight of the man seem to meet him like they were moving to each others direction, like it has something to show to him. And his mind gained the ability to see the inside of the house while still distant. The bamboo slats used as the floor were a little more than inch apart. A portion of the bamboo slat floor has two pieces broken near the sleeping area. And a baby fell from there among the sow and eleven piglets below. The sow had three little ones including the baby. It partook in the suckling of the sow's teat the way the little pigs did. But the baby did not move from one teat to another as humans are the weakest, only its not stupid. Three other houses were visible as landscape changed as he was passed the first house he saw. A little crowd of about seven people were milled around a small table playing cards in a gamble. Ante of coins and a few bills were heaped in the middle of the table. Three were seated, one of them was the mother of the baby. She was deep squinting with her cards. A cigarette with unflicked ash burns between her lips; faint tiny smoke gets into her eyes but she didn't have a third hand to rub the little pains the smoke inflicted. Her husband silently kibitzers behind her back too afraid to say opinions how to handle the cards. He was a fool to them; they were fools to him too. But they were both sane to mind each other. He took one last look at the pigs and the baby in the hope that some eyes among the gambling crowd follow where he looked. They were too occupied to mind a baby either.
The images before him changed as he kept walking. The gravel road began to climb. And then he was walking among trunks of giant banyans, the trees no lumberjacks hasn't the courage to cut down. Only a few rays of sun succeeded in penetrating the sieves of leaves through the ground. He walked slow, as slow as a ship in the horizon like he didn't want to gain distance. He could feel the oxygen released by the trees but he was inadequately educated to know the reason. It was cool like the inside of a mall, but he'd never been to any to know the similarity. He was long in getting to the top of the climb to begin the descend to an unbridged river.
Once he was about halfway, he looked to where the river is coming and where it's going. He thought of walking the river to its source or its estuary. Although this is now December and the rain have stopped coming, this river has the infamy of causing motorcycle riders missing while crossing to the other side as and here's the head of the flood rushing. This man knows to be called smart one should have followed rivers in his lifetime. But he proceeded in crossing; this journey had been unwalked for so long.
The sun was still half a perlicue above the horizon but crepusculars mostly insects and some other creature impossible to locate had began their cacophony of metallic and demonic sounds. He continued walking after he crossed the river but on the look out where to gain invisibility in the night. A giant durian tree no lumberjack would want to cut down provided what he needed. He gathered dead twigs and heaped it. He pulled out from his back bag a lighter made in China, the one that has a little light on one end. He started a fire and when the fire was receding, he scooped his hand cacao seeds at the bottom of his bag. He roasted the seeds on the receding fire. When the seeds sent its sweet aroma to his nostrils he began picking the seeds from the fire, crushed it between his thumb and fingers to peel the chaff and put it his mouth. That was supper. He pushed some fallen leaves with his feet to the fire. He lied, pillowed his head on his bag. As dusk turned to early evening, insect noises changed to crickets and cathydids and other nocturnals like bats fighting for the tasteless fruit of a nearby talisay tree that only bats would fight for. And the luminous fungus brightened as the night deepened the way distant stars do in the sky.
He woke to the calls of birds and soundless noises of the forest morning. It was not intended for him; he just happened to be there. But it was enough to make him feel like a fictional character of tales in the olden times. If there are moments that he would want to live and remain forever, it is these kinds of moments. But this journey, he thought again, had been unwalked for so long to want to live in this moment forever. He heaped the dead embers of last night's fire and lit it. When the fire was steadily flaming he gathered few more dead twigs and put it on top. He opened his bag, got his tin cup out, poured water from a plastic bottle, pushed the bottom of the cup over the fire to let it stand and leave it there. Once more he got his hand inside his bag to touch the ginger inside and brought it out. He peeled it of skin and then crushed it on the durian root with his fist. He put it in the cup and waited, and when he estimated that the water got enough heat from the fire, he picked it up holding the cup with with a folded t-shirt he got from his bag. He sipped his lips on the gingered water, and then he scooped his hand a few cacao seeds from his bag and put it on the receding fire. A few moments later the seeds were ambrosiac. He picked one and began to eat intervaled with the sipping of the cup. That was all his breakfast. He pushed some earth into the dying fire and went back to the road like a ship returning to its course after sheltering from a storm.
The primitive man walked this earth barefoot. He took off his sandals of plasticized rubber and rubberized plastic that was made without consideration to traction. He put it inside his back bag and right away he could feel his attachment to the ground with his bare sole. He's a part of this ground; this ground is made of the same materials as his living body. He walked without stopping and then the runway-straight distance showed a stalled logger truck almost at the other end before the road curved to the left. It was loaded full with logs cut short in short pieces probably as firewood for coconut oil mills nearby. A lone tiny object was moving about the truck trying to do something.
As he neared the trucker, a path that goes inside a mahogany forest was inviting to be followed. Leaves of the past deciduous years accumulated underneath. The path crosses a little brook that silently flows under a footlog. But the man ahead needed help. It was a punctured tire that stalled him. A skinny child was with the driver after all, but he was too light to step on the pipe lever and not strong enough to hold the wrench on the nut. The driver waited his approached. As soon as they were near enough for a smile to be noticed, the driver's face lighted. And then it turned into a smile.
"Hey!" the driver greeted as the journeyer was at speaking distance.
"Hey," the journeyer answered.
"Been here four hours now. If you could step this pipe down while I hold the wrench on the nut to loose it."
"But why you're alone with that boy? Your son?"
The journeyer didn't wait for answer. He went to where he was needed. One after another the nuts were loosened, pulled the punctured tire out and replaced with another, nuts put back and tightened. He looked up at the man while he was still squatting by the tire.
"Thank you," the driver said. "Going far?"
"Yeah."
"Where, if you don't mine."
"I mine, but I still don't know where to go."
The driver smiled almost like a laugh thinking it was a joke or was this an encounter with an insane. The driver turned on the engine and the muffler blew dark smoke out kept there for hours. The truck with its overworked engine struggled to stay alive.
"Really, is next town already near?" they journeyer asked.
"Around 40km from here."
"Good!"
"Good?"
"Yeah, it's good."
"Come ride, come on."
The driver stepped on the clutch and released without shifting the gear lever.
"No. Thanks."
The boy looked ahead through the winshield impatient at the long delay and the driver's difficulty in parting with someone who have given help but doesn't accept help in return.
"Aren't you really going to ride?"
"No. Thank you."
"But it's still 40 kilometers to the next town."
"I don't even want to get there, or to any place."
"Well."
"Just go ahead."
"Thank you so much then for your help."
The driver once more stepped on the clutch and finally shifted the gear lever to first gear, pushed the accelerator, slowly released the clutch and the truck was beating inertia. His left foot went back to the clutch pedal and shifted to second gear. He waved his hand out of his window to gesture his goodbye. And then he glanced at the walker in his side mirror to aside his gratefulness. The driver tried to retain in his mind the face of the walker; so did the walker. And when the truck turned the curve and into a private forest with trees grown by the landowner, both walker and driver became nameless faces in each other life.
The walker trudged on. When it was his turn to turn the curve, he could still see the dust of the truck beginning to settle. The dusk caught him as he approached a UCCP church that had a well and a boy pumping water for his mother to cook the evening pone.
"Asa man ka uncle?" the boy shouted in the local language.
"Didto," the walker answered.
A little farther was a Catholic chapel constructed with materials that do not cost anything. The walls are of the same materials as its thatch. At the entrance hangs a rusty differential shaft discarded by loggers long time ago. A lay minister in charge of the chapel approached the shaft with a long steel in hand to ring the angelus. The bell was clanging not ringing, but it sent the little community into prayer.
TO BE CONT AND TO BE EDITED. AALISIN KO IYONG NAGPALIMOS SIYA, AT IYONG UKULELE, WALA NA DAPAT ANG UKULELE
Sunday, August 8, 2010
HIS CHOSEN TIME TO DIE
The last time we were together in a drink, not really booze, only a few bottles each of San Miguel, was several years ago – 23 years or so. We have long stopped the habit of drinking too much where we start with one bottle each but end up with the waitress putting a case beside us for the bottles we emptied.
Gil was a generation older, he was a fully grown man, of marrying age and was teaching English and Spanish in a high school which later on closed down and the man who founded it would become his father in-law through his marriage to that man’s eldest daughter who never went to college. After the school where he taught closed and we were little children he would watch us play rubber bonds we never realized while watching us, he would reveal to us later that he was wondering then what to do with his life at that time when he was out of work. We never really cared whether he was around or not. But when we were teenagers and were about to graduate from high school, he was to be our English teacher in the last few months of our high school life, no more Spanish as the government during that time perhaps felt the uselessness of learning the language but perhaps too the government wanted to cleanse us, beginning with our generation, of whatever influence good or bad the Spanish had left on the people. He assumed as substitute to our female English teacher who went on maternity leave until the close of the school year. And that was to be the beginning of our friendship, a friendship, in my case, that would last until his death.
As he was new to the school and to everybody, he needed somebody he can talk to. Once we found him talking with the security guard, he must have been telling jokes because the guard had been giggling in laughter while watching them from a distance. And when we joined them, we knew he changed topic – a serious one, fit for us students.
Although we were already of remembering age when he would watch us play, we care more on our toys than noticing a grown man in the sideline so we never really had the slightest idea who he really was. Our transformation from children to teenagers and his transition to old age changed both of us beyond each others' recognition. Neither do we recall that a grown man did not come unknowingly into our lives watching us play nor can he remember that we were the children he once watch playing.
He was not that old really, just about at the approach of forties. But our children’s standard made him look to us much older.
The remaining time left for our high school days seem to be short now that our friendship with Gil has began to take roots in our hearts. Before he arrived we have become impatient for the graduation day. He made learning easier; he made learning fun. But now that he had become our friend we have stopped longing to leave high school. He arrived and left our lives unknowingly and then came back to our lives for only seemingly a very short time.
Twenty three years or so ago, that was the last time we had our last beer together. And that was when we have become capable of engaging a learned man in conversations. Because by that time we already had our college degrees and have joined the teaching staff of the school where we graduated high school and Gil was still teaching there. Either he regretted having drank at the time he got his stroke or strokes at his age could come easy. We offer ourselves to take blames but he would only shrug his shoulders. Although the stroke caused no damage to his body, his vision and hearing suffered some impairment. For a while he tried whether he can still handle teaching before he accepted his incapacitation. He stayed home and never went to school anymore except for some few minute visits more on seeing us than really coming to the school. We would return this gesture by coming to his house as often as we could after class and on weekends.
His steps had grown slower and slower. He had stopped going to the second floor of his house. The climb needed so much effort that he would rest at every rung. And his vertigo too made the descend dangerous. The two rooms of the second floor of his house which he and his wife alternately used in their younger and healthier years had become a repository of something they want to discard but doesn’t have the heart to give it up to the garbage truck. The life-size bust of his wife’s grandfather, a pioneer of the town, sculpted by a U.P fine arts grad in the 30s was left in one of the rooms when they moved to the ground floor. Only when the municipality volunteered to care for the piece of art was it brought down and caged in glass in the municipal hall and became a museum article.
For twenty five years he never spoke to his sister in-laws. His quarrels, his misunderstandings with his wife’s sisters range from the pettiest like taking a bottle a vinegar without first asking permission to the biggest like taking money and land titles, the use of car his wife bought second hand and sacks of rice already milled, also without permission. The money was his, sent to him in money order check from the SSS during the time of Renato Valencia after more than 12 years of neglecting to fill up a form to collect it. But his wife’s sisters thought the money is his wife’s. A shouting quarrel worded with invectives and other words spoken only in hell, watched live and in person by some relatives including us was the last occasion they spoke. Although his sisters in law were only three, they’ve given him enough trouble to the point of wanting to die ahead of his wife. He knew how miserable his life could be without his wife.
“But you’re six years younger than your wife,” I said. “How can you die ahead?”
“I’m sicklier; she’s healthier.”
“Not one of you is sicklier or healthier. Your wife’s health is as bad as yours.”
“Then pray that I die ahead, that will be the biggest favor you’ll do to me. It might be unkindness to her to leave ahead but her sisters are giving me no choice”
“Alright, I’ll pray that you die ahead.”
“Pray hard.”
“But if my prayers aren’t heard as God hardly hears my prayers, and what you fear is the one that will happen, what will you do?”
“I don’t know.”
We paused long. I withheld what I want to say. I studied his face to find out what reaction he might have for the thought I had in my mind.
“I know,” I said at last.
“What?”
“I know what to do with you in case your wife dies ahead of you.”
“What?”
“I’ll take you to my home.”
“What?” he said in disbelief.
“I’ll care for you in my home.”
“But we are not relatives?”
“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to be relatives. You don’t have relatives here, neither friends except me.”
“How can you say that so easily? Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”
“Of course I know what I’m talking about.”
“If I live three, four, five, six more years, excrete liquid stool in my pants urinate in my pants smell stool and stink urine you think you’ll still care for me? I might outlast you.”
“And you still think you’ll live that long with that health of yours with that age of yours?”
“Ok, ok, so you’ll really care for me until I die.” I knew he was controlling himself from crying. “You and Claudio, where is that boy? -- are my real friends, my time-tested friends. Where’s that boy?”
I protested the word “boy.” He said it twice; I didn’t want him referring us as boys a third time..
“Boy? We are not boys anymore. He’s in Manila, he came to say goodbye before he left, you don’t remember?”
“What is he doing in Manila?”
“Teaching…”
“…teaching what?”
What I know is that Claudio is teaching some literature subjects but I can’t let him know. I don’t want him doubting Claudio’s capability in teaching the subject.
“I don’t know.”
“So he’s in Manila?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s not talk about that bo…”
I interrupted with a look to his eyes not to allow the last letter pronounced.
“…yes, yes,” he continued. “He has left us; let’s not talk about him, what should be the word?”
“Guy, fellow,” I suggested.
“Yes, let’s not talk about that guy. But I would prefer to call him Totpo,” the inverted the Visayan word for persons of inadequate height. It was better. Poking fun at us is better than calling us boys.
“Let’s not talk about him. You’re not prepared with a topic to talk about. When you come you should be prepared. Anyway, know why I don’t have children? Because my wife’s eggs always all the time overlooked my sperm, the seed that I sprang hard each time, like they weren’t worthy of becoming human beings like I’m not worthy of becoming a father that’s the only thing I wasn’t good at. That’s the only thing I haven’t achieved. But I could have been as good as any other man, a father like them. But I cannot be unfaithful to my wife, she been with me all my life never was there an evening that she wasn’t with me and me wasn't with her. There was never a day in my forty seven years of marriage to her that we were not together. Maybe I could have impregnated a married woman -- a Manila businesswoman, but I did not do it because what good is it anyway if I have a child by another woman if I only acted as breeder and the child doesn’t know I’m his father. Know why I didn’t want to die when I was young as young as you are. What about you would you like to die with that age? I didn’t want to die when I was as young as you are because when one dies they’ll say ‘rest in peace.’ But what good is resting without tiring, yes what good is it resting without tiring? When you have rested your body it feels good to get tired again. You’re dirty minded that’s not the tiring I am saying. That tiring you have in your dirty mind is resting while tiring resting and tiring going along together, twining. My goodness you dirty minded twining of resting and tiring nothing more nothing less plain and simple now what do I mean I don’t know exactly neither do I mean what you are thinking. So that boy is in Manila. The Manila that I know is the Manila of the mid 50s and 60s and late 70s. Houses were made of wood; slums were not as many. Nobody lives under bridges in the Manila that I know. Where is Totpo living in Manila?”
“Tondo --Vitas Street,” I said quickly not wanting to interrupt him.
“Tondo? My goodness I never went to that place, Vitas Street, where the slaughter house is. My address was better when I was in Manila, Del Monte, near Lourdes School where I was teaching. See that frame over there?”
My eyes followed his lips merely in obedience. I’ve seen it a hundred times at the ledge of his bay window, a newspaper column he clipped from the Philippine Star by Isagani Cruz, the Mini Critique not the former Supreme Court justice. Him, Nieves Epistola and Bienvenido Lumbera were remembered by Cruz as his best teachers.
“You’ve seen that many times. Know who my neighbors were? One of them was a former senator, and vice president, never given a chance to take his oath though, became almost like crazy after that, regained his sanity when situation went back to normal.”
“Who was that?” I quickly asked.
“My goodness either you’re too dull to remember or you don’t care about our country. That part of our county’s history is too recent for you to forget. You never care about our country at all. As I said he got his sanity back when situation went back to normal again. There is no such word as normalcy I tell you. It was an American president, Warren Harding, yes Warren Harding who said that word. It’s incorrect, there is no such word. But it was later accepted as correct because he was the president of a powerful country. One local politician tried to do the same introducing incorrect word: aggrupation, yes, that’s the word. There is no such word. Your computer will underline it red, but not Harding’s normalcy. That local politician tried to use the word in his speeches but it never gained acceptance because he was not among them, he was among us. Anyway back to my neighbor. He was vice president to the madman from my province. One of these days I’m going to die I want cremation and I want my ash broadcast in my place, my place of boyhood in Ilocos -- Laoag City. Nobody wants my ash here. Help me think of an epitaph. But no I’ll be cremated. But perhaps I want these words in my epitaph if I’m buried in a tomb: HE ACHIEVED NOTHING. Will you jump into my fire while I’m being burned?”
“Where are we, India?” I scolded him. He allows me to scold him as long he is wrong. “And I’m not your wife. Ask that to your wife. Make your joke appropriate all the time,”
Our conversations were always like that, he did most of the talking and I did most of the listening. Allowing him talk was like opening an encyclopedia. We would talk about etymologies of words, about literature, about countries, about anything except math. The only side effects I got from allowing him talk without my interruption is that I learn something from him each time.
It was more than three months before I could visit him again. He was not home. He was brought to a hospital by a maid. He never troubled his wife to look after him when he’s in a hospital even in their younger days. I rushed to the hospital. As soon as I get there I hesitated, I suddenly lost the courage to see him. He could be in his last moments or he could be struggling to recover although with his age recovery was unlikely. Both ways I know he will be in a pitiful situation and I didn’t want to look at him in whatever situation. But I was already there.
“He’s there, ward 321,” the clerk at the information told me without being asked. She knew it was Gil I came to a visit.
I was with other people finding patients. He knew me by instinct. As I approached his bed I knew it was his instinct that told him I was coming. As soon as I was within the range of his fading senses, his face lighted. But it was long before he spoke perhaps overwhelmed by the joy of my arrival.
“What time is it now? Is it getting dark?”
I looked at the time in my cell phone. “It’s only a few minutes before three; it doesn’t get dark in hospital wards like this unless there is power failure.”
“And is it raining, do I hear the rain on the roof? It’s your joke that is inappropriate this time. It’s only about three you say but why I can see darkness now. Come on hold my right hand with your both hands, come on now. I’ve been waiting for you. See my dying time, you said few minutes to three. I'm like Jesus dying at three but I’m not God. So you’re good at praying. Know why I want to die now when actually I don’t really want to die yet? I’m dying at a time when I am sad. Who wants to die anyway? But this is what you prayed and I accept it I feel no bitterness in this dying. I can’t feel anything I’m numb all over my body. I can’t swallow the yolk this has been here in my mouth since last night. I can’t spit it out either. It’s not your prayer that is being heard by God it’s just my day now. I know this may not be the moment yet but it could be any moment now. I can see darkness now.”
His voice was not sad although moments ago he said he’s dying at a time when he is sad perhaps the gamut caused by his own disbelief in dying in the choicest time. The eyes that would look straight into mine whenever he wants to drive a point in our millions of conversations lowered its eyelid. His hands slowly loosened on mine. The rain had stopped and the downspout dripping the water that lingered on the gutter into a puddle was the only noise that sounded against the solemnity of his dying moment.
Five faces began to appear and a conversation among them began to take place. The faces were not meant to be seen by mortal eyes and their conversation is not meant to be listened by mortal ears. Their faces and their voices can be seen only by the eyes and ears of the person they provide guidance. They live behind the veil on the other side of time and always there for Gil. It’s only now that he recognized them. It’s only now that he realized these faces have been his companions all along. They welcomed him the way anybody might to a friend joining a journey. They have been walking with him as he stumbles through the world. Gil and me and Claudio have attempted deism, to just believing in God but not accepting religion and its teachings. But each time we do so we fall back to accepting our religion because it is our religion itself that teaches about God. We have tried atheism as well but disbelieving God is just like being at the other side of the same mountain. The shadow still falls on us. Entertaining these thoughts in our minds could be a weak point and a fault in our hearts. But the faces keep no record of weak points or faults and never took those thoughts of ours personally.
They know the coming of the priest whom we had misunderstandings in the management of the school where we were teaching. They have myriad of ways to divert the priest from getting into Gil’s death bed but they did not do anything.
The priest and his assistant got down from his motorcycle and walked to the hospital. The arrogant thuds of the heels and soles of the priest's shoes were amplified by the moment’s silence. But as soon as they saw us they seemed to conceal their arrogance especially the priest and hesitated in their approach. But it’s his responsibility to perform the final sacrament whether the dying person wants it or not, whether the dying person likes him or not. He could be answerable to God if he does not perform it. He got his crucifix out of his shirt to dangle in his chest like he was going to perform exorcism instead of extreme unction.
A bit of Gil’s instinct was still with him when the priest was about to begin. He saw the priest in his dying mind with the same vagueness as a dream
I don’t want this ceremony I don’t need heaven if this is the priest that oils my sole I’ve not yet died before but I’ve seen somebody about to die like me at this moment he’ll be touching my head with his hand the way he’ll do to my sole keep you hands off me that hand of yours that raises the Holy Host is the same hand that pushed this friend of mine down almost hitting his head on edge of a desk and that hand of yours aimed a punch at him and that mouth of yours that says it’s the body of Christ you’re holding is the same mouth that told us threatening words now what are you doing to my feet? This guy, he’s a priest can’t make this rite holy God was never wrong with His mind in allowing people to do rites like this Not even gods in myths will accept your prayer Yours are not prayers to God but incantation to the devil You’re the worst priest ever assigned to this parish Your sermons are the worst; you’re the dumbest sermon speaker I’ve ever known You have no shame to speak your sermons to the churchgoers without preparation Your churchgoers are educated even twice higher in education than you My goodness you’re the only priest I know who delivers homilies on a whatever-comes-to-your-mind basis You can’t make this rite holy – this rite is not holy No priest came for Jesus, his feet didn’t have oil when he died but blood from nail punctures The lightning that struck at Jesus’ moment of death was not meant for Judas but for you What are you doing Leave me alone.
The priest went on with what he was doing leafing pages of his black book. And then his hand, glistening with coconut oil, touched Gil’s forehead and recited pre-worded prayers not his own.
I didn’t mind him. I moved my hand from the wrist where the pulse slowed and stopped, to the joint of his elbow, to his bicep and to his chest. For a long moment I kept my hand there. The heart wasn’t struggling. It was simply like a candle wick toppling as it runs out of tallow. I lifted his hand and released.It dropped like a flag on a windless day.
Come on Gil, let’s go now, one of faces said as he reached for his hand. They waited as he hesitated to leave perhaps not wanting to leave while the priest has not left yet. It was too soon to wear off the livings’ idea of existence in this world.
Gil was a generation older, he was a fully grown man, of marrying age and was teaching English and Spanish in a high school which later on closed down and the man who founded it would become his father in-law through his marriage to that man’s eldest daughter who never went to college. After the school where he taught closed and we were little children he would watch us play rubber bonds we never realized while watching us, he would reveal to us later that he was wondering then what to do with his life at that time when he was out of work. We never really cared whether he was around or not. But when we were teenagers and were about to graduate from high school, he was to be our English teacher in the last few months of our high school life, no more Spanish as the government during that time perhaps felt the uselessness of learning the language but perhaps too the government wanted to cleanse us, beginning with our generation, of whatever influence good or bad the Spanish had left on the people. He assumed as substitute to our female English teacher who went on maternity leave until the close of the school year. And that was to be the beginning of our friendship, a friendship, in my case, that would last until his death.
As he was new to the school and to everybody, he needed somebody he can talk to. Once we found him talking with the security guard, he must have been telling jokes because the guard had been giggling in laughter while watching them from a distance. And when we joined them, we knew he changed topic – a serious one, fit for us students.
Although we were already of remembering age when he would watch us play, we care more on our toys than noticing a grown man in the sideline so we never really had the slightest idea who he really was. Our transformation from children to teenagers and his transition to old age changed both of us beyond each others' recognition. Neither do we recall that a grown man did not come unknowingly into our lives watching us play nor can he remember that we were the children he once watch playing.
He was not that old really, just about at the approach of forties. But our children’s standard made him look to us much older.
The remaining time left for our high school days seem to be short now that our friendship with Gil has began to take roots in our hearts. Before he arrived we have become impatient for the graduation day. He made learning easier; he made learning fun. But now that he had become our friend we have stopped longing to leave high school. He arrived and left our lives unknowingly and then came back to our lives for only seemingly a very short time.
Twenty three years or so ago, that was the last time we had our last beer together. And that was when we have become capable of engaging a learned man in conversations. Because by that time we already had our college degrees and have joined the teaching staff of the school where we graduated high school and Gil was still teaching there. Either he regretted having drank at the time he got his stroke or strokes at his age could come easy. We offer ourselves to take blames but he would only shrug his shoulders. Although the stroke caused no damage to his body, his vision and hearing suffered some impairment. For a while he tried whether he can still handle teaching before he accepted his incapacitation. He stayed home and never went to school anymore except for some few minute visits more on seeing us than really coming to the school. We would return this gesture by coming to his house as often as we could after class and on weekends.
His steps had grown slower and slower. He had stopped going to the second floor of his house. The climb needed so much effort that he would rest at every rung. And his vertigo too made the descend dangerous. The two rooms of the second floor of his house which he and his wife alternately used in their younger and healthier years had become a repository of something they want to discard but doesn’t have the heart to give it up to the garbage truck. The life-size bust of his wife’s grandfather, a pioneer of the town, sculpted by a U.P fine arts grad in the 30s was left in one of the rooms when they moved to the ground floor. Only when the municipality volunteered to care for the piece of art was it brought down and caged in glass in the municipal hall and became a museum article.
For twenty five years he never spoke to his sister in-laws. His quarrels, his misunderstandings with his wife’s sisters range from the pettiest like taking a bottle a vinegar without first asking permission to the biggest like taking money and land titles, the use of car his wife bought second hand and sacks of rice already milled, also without permission. The money was his, sent to him in money order check from the SSS during the time of Renato Valencia after more than 12 years of neglecting to fill up a form to collect it. But his wife’s sisters thought the money is his wife’s. A shouting quarrel worded with invectives and other words spoken only in hell, watched live and in person by some relatives including us was the last occasion they spoke. Although his sisters in law were only three, they’ve given him enough trouble to the point of wanting to die ahead of his wife. He knew how miserable his life could be without his wife.
“But you’re six years younger than your wife,” I said. “How can you die ahead?”
“I’m sicklier; she’s healthier.”
“Not one of you is sicklier or healthier. Your wife’s health is as bad as yours.”
“Then pray that I die ahead, that will be the biggest favor you’ll do to me. It might be unkindness to her to leave ahead but her sisters are giving me no choice”
“Alright, I’ll pray that you die ahead.”
“Pray hard.”
“But if my prayers aren’t heard as God hardly hears my prayers, and what you fear is the one that will happen, what will you do?”
“I don’t know.”
We paused long. I withheld what I want to say. I studied his face to find out what reaction he might have for the thought I had in my mind.
“I know,” I said at last.
“What?”
“I know what to do with you in case your wife dies ahead of you.”
“What?”
“I’ll take you to my home.”
“What?” he said in disbelief.
“I’ll care for you in my home.”
“But we are not relatives?”
“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to be relatives. You don’t have relatives here, neither friends except me.”
“How can you say that so easily? Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”
“Of course I know what I’m talking about.”
“If I live three, four, five, six more years, excrete liquid stool in my pants urinate in my pants smell stool and stink urine you think you’ll still care for me? I might outlast you.”
“And you still think you’ll live that long with that health of yours with that age of yours?”
“Ok, ok, so you’ll really care for me until I die.” I knew he was controlling himself from crying. “You and Claudio, where is that boy? -- are my real friends, my time-tested friends. Where’s that boy?”
I protested the word “boy.” He said it twice; I didn’t want him referring us as boys a third time..
“Boy? We are not boys anymore. He’s in Manila, he came to say goodbye before he left, you don’t remember?”
“What is he doing in Manila?”
“Teaching…”
“…teaching what?”
What I know is that Claudio is teaching some literature subjects but I can’t let him know. I don’t want him doubting Claudio’s capability in teaching the subject.
“I don’t know.”
“So he’s in Manila?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s not talk about that bo…”
I interrupted with a look to his eyes not to allow the last letter pronounced.
“…yes, yes,” he continued. “He has left us; let’s not talk about him, what should be the word?”
“Guy, fellow,” I suggested.
“Yes, let’s not talk about that guy. But I would prefer to call him Totpo,” the inverted the Visayan word for persons of inadequate height. It was better. Poking fun at us is better than calling us boys.
“Let’s not talk about him. You’re not prepared with a topic to talk about. When you come you should be prepared. Anyway, know why I don’t have children? Because my wife’s eggs always all the time overlooked my sperm, the seed that I sprang hard each time, like they weren’t worthy of becoming human beings like I’m not worthy of becoming a father that’s the only thing I wasn’t good at. That’s the only thing I haven’t achieved. But I could have been as good as any other man, a father like them. But I cannot be unfaithful to my wife, she been with me all my life never was there an evening that she wasn’t with me and me wasn't with her. There was never a day in my forty seven years of marriage to her that we were not together. Maybe I could have impregnated a married woman -- a Manila businesswoman, but I did not do it because what good is it anyway if I have a child by another woman if I only acted as breeder and the child doesn’t know I’m his father. Know why I didn’t want to die when I was young as young as you are. What about you would you like to die with that age? I didn’t want to die when I was as young as you are because when one dies they’ll say ‘rest in peace.’ But what good is resting without tiring, yes what good is it resting without tiring? When you have rested your body it feels good to get tired again. You’re dirty minded that’s not the tiring I am saying. That tiring you have in your dirty mind is resting while tiring resting and tiring going along together, twining. My goodness you dirty minded twining of resting and tiring nothing more nothing less plain and simple now what do I mean I don’t know exactly neither do I mean what you are thinking. So that boy is in Manila. The Manila that I know is the Manila of the mid 50s and 60s and late 70s. Houses were made of wood; slums were not as many. Nobody lives under bridges in the Manila that I know. Where is Totpo living in Manila?”
“Tondo --Vitas Street,” I said quickly not wanting to interrupt him.
“Tondo? My goodness I never went to that place, Vitas Street, where the slaughter house is. My address was better when I was in Manila, Del Monte, near Lourdes School where I was teaching. See that frame over there?”
My eyes followed his lips merely in obedience. I’ve seen it a hundred times at the ledge of his bay window, a newspaper column he clipped from the Philippine Star by Isagani Cruz, the Mini Critique not the former Supreme Court justice. Him, Nieves Epistola and Bienvenido Lumbera were remembered by Cruz as his best teachers.
“You’ve seen that many times. Know who my neighbors were? One of them was a former senator, and vice president, never given a chance to take his oath though, became almost like crazy after that, regained his sanity when situation went back to normal.”
“Who was that?” I quickly asked.
“My goodness either you’re too dull to remember or you don’t care about our country. That part of our county’s history is too recent for you to forget. You never care about our country at all. As I said he got his sanity back when situation went back to normal again. There is no such word as normalcy I tell you. It was an American president, Warren Harding, yes Warren Harding who said that word. It’s incorrect, there is no such word. But it was later accepted as correct because he was the president of a powerful country. One local politician tried to do the same introducing incorrect word: aggrupation, yes, that’s the word. There is no such word. Your computer will underline it red, but not Harding’s normalcy. That local politician tried to use the word in his speeches but it never gained acceptance because he was not among them, he was among us. Anyway back to my neighbor. He was vice president to the madman from my province. One of these days I’m going to die I want cremation and I want my ash broadcast in my place, my place of boyhood in Ilocos -- Laoag City. Nobody wants my ash here. Help me think of an epitaph. But no I’ll be cremated. But perhaps I want these words in my epitaph if I’m buried in a tomb: HE ACHIEVED NOTHING. Will you jump into my fire while I’m being burned?”
“Where are we, India?” I scolded him. He allows me to scold him as long he is wrong. “And I’m not your wife. Ask that to your wife. Make your joke appropriate all the time,”
Our conversations were always like that, he did most of the talking and I did most of the listening. Allowing him talk was like opening an encyclopedia. We would talk about etymologies of words, about literature, about countries, about anything except math. The only side effects I got from allowing him talk without my interruption is that I learn something from him each time.
It was more than three months before I could visit him again. He was not home. He was brought to a hospital by a maid. He never troubled his wife to look after him when he’s in a hospital even in their younger days. I rushed to the hospital. As soon as I get there I hesitated, I suddenly lost the courage to see him. He could be in his last moments or he could be struggling to recover although with his age recovery was unlikely. Both ways I know he will be in a pitiful situation and I didn’t want to look at him in whatever situation. But I was already there.
“He’s there, ward 321,” the clerk at the information told me without being asked. She knew it was Gil I came to a visit.
I was with other people finding patients. He knew me by instinct. As I approached his bed I knew it was his instinct that told him I was coming. As soon as I was within the range of his fading senses, his face lighted. But it was long before he spoke perhaps overwhelmed by the joy of my arrival.
“What time is it now? Is it getting dark?”
I looked at the time in my cell phone. “It’s only a few minutes before three; it doesn’t get dark in hospital wards like this unless there is power failure.”
“And is it raining, do I hear the rain on the roof? It’s your joke that is inappropriate this time. It’s only about three you say but why I can see darkness now. Come on hold my right hand with your both hands, come on now. I’ve been waiting for you. See my dying time, you said few minutes to three. I'm like Jesus dying at three but I’m not God. So you’re good at praying. Know why I want to die now when actually I don’t really want to die yet? I’m dying at a time when I am sad. Who wants to die anyway? But this is what you prayed and I accept it I feel no bitterness in this dying. I can’t feel anything I’m numb all over my body. I can’t swallow the yolk this has been here in my mouth since last night. I can’t spit it out either. It’s not your prayer that is being heard by God it’s just my day now. I know this may not be the moment yet but it could be any moment now. I can see darkness now.”
His voice was not sad although moments ago he said he’s dying at a time when he is sad perhaps the gamut caused by his own disbelief in dying in the choicest time. The eyes that would look straight into mine whenever he wants to drive a point in our millions of conversations lowered its eyelid. His hands slowly loosened on mine. The rain had stopped and the downspout dripping the water that lingered on the gutter into a puddle was the only noise that sounded against the solemnity of his dying moment.
Five faces began to appear and a conversation among them began to take place. The faces were not meant to be seen by mortal eyes and their conversation is not meant to be listened by mortal ears. Their faces and their voices can be seen only by the eyes and ears of the person they provide guidance. They live behind the veil on the other side of time and always there for Gil. It’s only now that he recognized them. It’s only now that he realized these faces have been his companions all along. They welcomed him the way anybody might to a friend joining a journey. They have been walking with him as he stumbles through the world. Gil and me and Claudio have attempted deism, to just believing in God but not accepting religion and its teachings. But each time we do so we fall back to accepting our religion because it is our religion itself that teaches about God. We have tried atheism as well but disbelieving God is just like being at the other side of the same mountain. The shadow still falls on us. Entertaining these thoughts in our minds could be a weak point and a fault in our hearts. But the faces keep no record of weak points or faults and never took those thoughts of ours personally.
They know the coming of the priest whom we had misunderstandings in the management of the school where we were teaching. They have myriad of ways to divert the priest from getting into Gil’s death bed but they did not do anything.
The priest and his assistant got down from his motorcycle and walked to the hospital. The arrogant thuds of the heels and soles of the priest's shoes were amplified by the moment’s silence. But as soon as they saw us they seemed to conceal their arrogance especially the priest and hesitated in their approach. But it’s his responsibility to perform the final sacrament whether the dying person wants it or not, whether the dying person likes him or not. He could be answerable to God if he does not perform it. He got his crucifix out of his shirt to dangle in his chest like he was going to perform exorcism instead of extreme unction.
A bit of Gil’s instinct was still with him when the priest was about to begin. He saw the priest in his dying mind with the same vagueness as a dream
I don’t want this ceremony I don’t need heaven if this is the priest that oils my sole I’ve not yet died before but I’ve seen somebody about to die like me at this moment he’ll be touching my head with his hand the way he’ll do to my sole keep you hands off me that hand of yours that raises the Holy Host is the same hand that pushed this friend of mine down almost hitting his head on edge of a desk and that hand of yours aimed a punch at him and that mouth of yours that says it’s the body of Christ you’re holding is the same mouth that told us threatening words now what are you doing to my feet? This guy, he’s a priest can’t make this rite holy God was never wrong with His mind in allowing people to do rites like this Not even gods in myths will accept your prayer Yours are not prayers to God but incantation to the devil You’re the worst priest ever assigned to this parish Your sermons are the worst; you’re the dumbest sermon speaker I’ve ever known You have no shame to speak your sermons to the churchgoers without preparation Your churchgoers are educated even twice higher in education than you My goodness you’re the only priest I know who delivers homilies on a whatever-comes-to-your-mind basis You can’t make this rite holy – this rite is not holy No priest came for Jesus, his feet didn’t have oil when he died but blood from nail punctures The lightning that struck at Jesus’ moment of death was not meant for Judas but for you What are you doing Leave me alone.
The priest went on with what he was doing leafing pages of his black book. And then his hand, glistening with coconut oil, touched Gil’s forehead and recited pre-worded prayers not his own.
I didn’t mind him. I moved my hand from the wrist where the pulse slowed and stopped, to the joint of his elbow, to his bicep and to his chest. For a long moment I kept my hand there. The heart wasn’t struggling. It was simply like a candle wick toppling as it runs out of tallow. I lifted his hand and released.It dropped like a flag on a windless day.
Come on Gil, let’s go now, one of faces said as he reached for his hand. They waited as he hesitated to leave perhaps not wanting to leave while the priest has not left yet. It was too soon to wear off the livings’ idea of existence in this world.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
I BOUGHT A GUITAR FOR VILMA SANTOS
(Vilma Santos is a Philippine actress, started acting as a child, now governor of Batangas province.)
Many years ago while working as export documentation clerk for a shipping company in Manila which also owns the Luneta Theater, we were allowed to see movies at the Luneta after work on Mondays. Films in Manila begin screening on theaters usually on Thursdays and ends the next two Thursday so that the film is shown on two Sundays if shown for two weeks. The movie SURVIVE, a film about a passenger plane that crashed on the Andes Mountains was the one being shown. The surviving passengers ran out of food and so resorted to cannibalism, eating the flesh of the dead passengers to avoid starvation. What the movie interested the public was perhaps the slicing of the flesh of a dead passenger preserved by snow and the tearing by the teeth of the human flesh dried on the roof of the airplane.
The usherettes and us shipping company employees knew each other and have even become friends even though we didn't have much time for each other except on Mondays when we watch movies for free. The usherette on duty handed to me her flashlight and asked to be substituted for a short while as she goes to the ladies room. Before she disappeared behind the door of the ladies room near the loge entrance, she signaled to me that Romeo Vasquez and Vilma Santos are arriving (as moviegoers.) Everybody in Manila knew about their relationship but the moviegoers cared more about the film than their arrival. Except me. I lighted their way and tried to find empty seats for them. There was none and although I motioned to them apologetic gestures, I knew they wouldn't mind standing on the aisle to wait for the last screening when seats will be vacated. Romeo Vasquez put his arms around Vilma Santos as he stood behind her. When that particular screening was about to end, whispers begin to buzz around about their presence. I didn't hand the flashlight back to the usherette so I'll be the one to light them to a vacated seat. And when the final screening started, everybody settled including them not wanting to miss a piece of the film.
Many years after that, it was Vilma Santos' movie BATO SA BUHANGIN that was to be shown at the Luneta. As usual, it opened on a Thursday. Unfortunately it stormed and rained hard in Manila on the second Monday of screening. Everybody stayed in the safety of their homes and most public places in Manila including Luneta were closed. But I was at the shipping office and even stayed to render overtime work as shippers can't wait for their bills of lading to collect their l/c money in their banks. At around 7:00 o'clock in the evening the telephone rang and when I picked it, it was a voice introducing herself as Vilma Santos. I didn't doubt. Vilma Santo's voice is easily one of the most recognizable voices in the country. She inquired if Luneta was open. I may have heard her voice on television and in movies but on that telephone call her voice was meant for me alone. I'm not a Vilmanian but that phone call made me begin to like the song Bato sa Buhangin.
And then some more years later I had to leave that office to my province to pursue my dream job which is teaching. As teachers they say should be a page ahead of the students, I took some M.A. subjects on my own in a nearby university. The little memory of Vilma Santos lingered in my mind. She's the only celebrity I've ever spoken on the phone. She's the only lefty in the world I admire next to Manny Pacquiao and Paul McCartney. The song Bato Sa Buhangin being hers, I believed should also be mine. And so I wanted to learn to accompany the song with a guitar although what I know about guitars are basic chords. And there was the guitar displayed in a glass window in a music store. Each time I passed by that store from the university, the guitar was always there seemingly displayed for no one else but me. And before the first semester of that school year ended I was inside that music store inquiring about the guitar. "Try it," the salesclerk said. "It's tuned." I tried it.
I paid the guitar the price the clerk said. "Buying this guitar for your self?" she asked as she puts the guitar in the case. I only answered with a shrug. Her tongue had become unnecessarily unfriendly after I came back to her from the cashier. "Nobody's too old to start something new," she began again. "Whom are you buying this guitar for?" she asked this last question when she handed to me my guitar.
"I'm buying this guitar for Vilma Santos," I answered. I knew her eyes were following me as I walked out of the store. And when I looked back to check if I was right, she was indeed looking at me. And perhaps wondering at my answer.
Many years ago while working as export documentation clerk for a shipping company in Manila which also owns the Luneta Theater, we were allowed to see movies at the Luneta after work on Mondays. Films in Manila begin screening on theaters usually on Thursdays and ends the next two Thursday so that the film is shown on two Sundays if shown for two weeks. The movie SURVIVE, a film about a passenger plane that crashed on the Andes Mountains was the one being shown. The surviving passengers ran out of food and so resorted to cannibalism, eating the flesh of the dead passengers to avoid starvation. What the movie interested the public was perhaps the slicing of the flesh of a dead passenger preserved by snow and the tearing by the teeth of the human flesh dried on the roof of the airplane.
The usherettes and us shipping company employees knew each other and have even become friends even though we didn't have much time for each other except on Mondays when we watch movies for free. The usherette on duty handed to me her flashlight and asked to be substituted for a short while as she goes to the ladies room. Before she disappeared behind the door of the ladies room near the loge entrance, she signaled to me that Romeo Vasquez and Vilma Santos are arriving (as moviegoers.) Everybody in Manila knew about their relationship but the moviegoers cared more about the film than their arrival. Except me. I lighted their way and tried to find empty seats for them. There was none and although I motioned to them apologetic gestures, I knew they wouldn't mind standing on the aisle to wait for the last screening when seats will be vacated. Romeo Vasquez put his arms around Vilma Santos as he stood behind her. When that particular screening was about to end, whispers begin to buzz around about their presence. I didn't hand the flashlight back to the usherette so I'll be the one to light them to a vacated seat. And when the final screening started, everybody settled including them not wanting to miss a piece of the film.
Many years after that, it was Vilma Santos' movie BATO SA BUHANGIN that was to be shown at the Luneta. As usual, it opened on a Thursday. Unfortunately it stormed and rained hard in Manila on the second Monday of screening. Everybody stayed in the safety of their homes and most public places in Manila including Luneta were closed. But I was at the shipping office and even stayed to render overtime work as shippers can't wait for their bills of lading to collect their l/c money in their banks. At around 7:00 o'clock in the evening the telephone rang and when I picked it, it was a voice introducing herself as Vilma Santos. I didn't doubt. Vilma Santo's voice is easily one of the most recognizable voices in the country. She inquired if Luneta was open. I may have heard her voice on television and in movies but on that telephone call her voice was meant for me alone. I'm not a Vilmanian but that phone call made me begin to like the song Bato sa Buhangin.
And then some more years later I had to leave that office to my province to pursue my dream job which is teaching. As teachers they say should be a page ahead of the students, I took some M.A. subjects on my own in a nearby university. The little memory of Vilma Santos lingered in my mind. She's the only celebrity I've ever spoken on the phone. She's the only lefty in the world I admire next to Manny Pacquiao and Paul McCartney. The song Bato Sa Buhangin being hers, I believed should also be mine. And so I wanted to learn to accompany the song with a guitar although what I know about guitars are basic chords. And there was the guitar displayed in a glass window in a music store. Each time I passed by that store from the university, the guitar was always there seemingly displayed for no one else but me. And before the first semester of that school year ended I was inside that music store inquiring about the guitar. "Try it," the salesclerk said. "It's tuned." I tried it.
I paid the guitar the price the clerk said. "Buying this guitar for your self?" she asked as she puts the guitar in the case. I only answered with a shrug. Her tongue had become unnecessarily unfriendly after I came back to her from the cashier. "Nobody's too old to start something new," she began again. "Whom are you buying this guitar for?" she asked this last question when she handed to me my guitar.
"I'm buying this guitar for Vilma Santos," I answered. I knew her eyes were following me as I walked out of the store. And when I looked back to check if I was right, she was indeed looking at me. And perhaps wondering at my answer.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
HOURIEA
Lugar: Dumaguete City
Panahon: Kasalukuyan
Mga Tauhan:
Cat, isang college instructor sa isang colegio sa Mindanao at kasalukuyang graduate student ng isang unibersidad. Idad sa pagitan ng 35 at 45.
Elaine, isang Manilenya, graduating student ng unibersidad ding pinapasokan ni Cat.
Bibing, asawa ni Cat, may sakit na kanser.
Mat, isang law student ng unibersidad ding pinapasokan nina Elaine at Cat.
Propesor, isang Amerikanong propesor ng panitikan ng unibersidad ding pinapasukan ni Elaine at Cat.
Doktor, specialista sa kanser.
Aling Leny, nanay ni Elaine.
Xerox Clerk.
(Fade in ng camera sa salas ng apartment, magsisimula sa mga simpleng kagamitan tulad ng sala set na gawa sa kawayan, tutuloy ang tutok ng camera sa loob ng washing machine na kasalukyang umaandar. Balik ulit ang tutok ng camera sa salas at saka hihinto kay Cat na nasa harap ng computer. Patagilid ang tutok sa kanya ng camera at saka ibabaling ang camera sa monitor ng computer na nakabukas sa Encarta. Palipat-lipat ng paksa mula kay George Bernard Shaw na siyang may akda ng dulang Pygmalion at sa paksa ng colon cancer at kay Pygmalion na siyang may likha kay Galatea. Babasahin ni Cat ang paksang ito hanggang sa mabuo ang isang tanawin sa loob ng isipan ni Cat. Magkakaroon ng hugis ng isang babaeng (si Elaine) kasinlabo ng isang panaginip. Ilang sandali lilinaw ang tanawin ng bahagyang bahagya lamang at saka muling babalik sa ganap na kalaboan. Pagkatapos ay maglalaho ng tuloyan sa pagkakayanig ng monitor ng computer dahil sa pagvibrate ng kanyang cellphone na nasa ilalim ng monitor. Si Bibing, ang asawa ni Cat ang tumatawag.)
Cat. Hello Bing...Hindi pa...Baka sa isang Sabado...Oo, sa isang Sabadong darating...Oh, ikaw naman, may time pa ba ako n'yan...Sige ikaw…OO, sa Sabado, Sige ba-bye miss you Bing.
(Mag-aalas sais ng gabi, mag-aagaw ang dilim at liwanag. Tututok ang camera ng malayuan sa isang squatter area sa bahaging kanluran ng lungsod upang masulyapan ang pagkukulay kahil ang papawirin sa ibabaw ng mga barung-barong. Unti-unti, lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa dalampasigan ng isang Boulevard na nasa tabing dagat kung saan ang mga mumunting alon ay bigo sa kanilang pagpupumilit na doon sumabog sa mga pa ng mga taong naglalakad sa buhanginan. Tuloy ang tutok ng camera sa isang sinaunang gusali ng unibersidad na dating tirahan ng isang Amerikanong siyang nagtatag ng unibesidad na ngayo'y ginagamit na lamang ng pamantasan bilang anthropological museum. Babaybay ang tutok ng camera sa isang kalyeng punong acasia ang isang tabi, liliko ang tutok nito pakanan, papasok sa campus ng unibersidad. Saglit na tutok ng camera sa mga pigurang hugis i na siyang nagsasagisag ng pamantasan. Tutuloy ang tutok ng camera sa isa ring sinaunang gusali hanggang sa hahantong ang tutok ng camera sa isang silid-aralan nito kung saan papatapos ang pagkaklase ng Amerikano propesor.
Propesor. Before I let you go, secure copies of the next play Sakontala. (Magsisimulang maglabasan ang mga estudiante, sabay na tatayo sina Cat at Elaine.) Come back on Friday.
Elaine. Di ko pa type umuwi, maiinip lang ako sa boarding house.
Cat. Library na lang muna tayo, may oras pa.
Elaine. Anong gagawin natin doon? (Sabay na maglalakad ang dalawa papalabas ng silid at ng gusali.)
Cat. Di kukuha ng kopya ng Sakontala.
Elaine. Magpapakahirap ka pa...dian ka na kumuha sa mimeographer.
Cat. Ayoko doon, maraming mali.
Elaine. Wala akong gagawin sa boarding house.
Cat. Sumama ka na nga e, para mabasa mo ang play.
Elaine. Ito naman pahihirapan ko pang sarili ko e, electives ko lang naman ito. Maski pasang awa walang problema. Kodigo na lang ako o kaya kopya na lang ako sa'yo sa mga quizes at exams.
Cat. Ikaw, electives mo lang, e, ako?
Elaine. H'wag mo ngang pinag-iintindi ang mga ganyan. Du'n muna tayo.
(Sa isang Fastfood)
Elaine. Ngayon ko lang naitanong sa'yo to...
Cat. ...ano? Ang alin?
Elaine. Ba't ka ba inabot ng ganyang idad?
Cat. Buhay pa ako?
Elaine. Inabot ka ng ganyang idad, binata ka pa?
Cat. May nasabi ba ako sa iyo na binata ako?
Elaine. E, di may asawa ka?
Cat. Anong gagawin mo pagka-graduate mo?
Elaine. Ini-iba mo naman ang usapan e. Baka babalik ako rito.
Cat. Ano pang gagawin mo rito e, graduate ka na?
Elaine. Mag-M.A. din ako.
Cat. Baka hindi mo na ako gaanong makikita sa university next year.
Elaine. Ano?
Cat. Baka magsusulat na ako ng thesis ko.
Elaine. Ganun?
Cat. Oo, ganun. Pero babalik-balik pa naman ako rito. H'wag kang malulungkot sabi ko naman sa'yo babalik-balik din ako rito.
Elaine. Iba yong palagian tayong nagkikita. Kung saan-saan mo ako dinadala, sasabihin mo h'wag akong malungkot. Kahit ba may asawa ka o ano ka, malulungkot pa rin ako pag wala ka at hindi na kita gaanong nakikita.
Cat. Baka naman kaya ka malulungkot e dahil wala nang maglilibre sa'yo.
Elaine. Hindi Cat, bukod pa roon sa lagi mo akong nililibre, umibig na rin ako sa'yo maski pa malayo ang agwat ng idad mo sa'kin.
Cat. Dalian mo na kaya at uuwi ako ng maaga-aga. Babalik pa ako sa library bago ako uuwi, madami pa akong labahin.
Elaine. Maglalakad na naman tayo?
Cat. Oo, sasakay ka pa e ang lapit lapit lang. Sama ka na kasi sa layb?
(Sa anino ng mga punong acasia maglalakad ang dalawa. Tututok ang camera sa kanilang paglapit at paglagpas sa mga estudianteng nag-uumpokan sa kanilang daadan hanggang sa sapitin nilang dalawa ang pinto ng library. Saglit na ipapakita sa clerk ang kanilang mga I.D. saka tutuloy sa isang bakanteng computer para sa katalogo ng dulang hahanapin. May ilang sandaling uupo si Cat roon, nasa kanyang likuran si Elaine, makikitingin sa screen ng computer, nakahawak ang kamay sa sandalan ng upuan. Isusulat ni Cat sa kanyang palad ang katalogo saka tatayo.)
Cat. 'Lika na.
(Sabay na aakyat ang dalawa sa malawak na hagdanan patungong circulation section ng aklatan. Saglit na mawawala sa camera ang dalawa sa likod ng mga shelves roon. Balik ang tutok ng camera sa kanilang dalawa, close-up sa mga libro sa kanilang harapan habang lumalakad ang kanilang mga paningin sa katalogo ng mg libro at sa katalogong nakasulat sa palad ni Cat. Hihilahin ng kamay ni Cat ang libro, bubuksan at hahanapin ang dulang Sakontaa at pagkahanap lalabas ang dalawa papunta sa mga xerox machines. Papasyal-pasyal si Elaine sa mga naka-cabinet na mga librong bigay ng mga yuamaong may mga katungkulan sa unibersidad. Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa pila sa xrox kung saan naroroon si Cat.
Cat. Mula rito hanggang dito, tigalawa. (rirepasohin ng clerk ang mga pahinang tinutukoy at saka ito magsisimula. Naghihintay na si Elaine sa likuran ni Cat.)
Elaine. Tapos na? (Pagkalipas ng ilang minuto.)
Xerox Clerk. Heto na po, 38 pieces lahat, 19 pesos lang po ang babayaran n'yo. (Magbibilang ng bariya si Cat mula sa kanyang coin purse at i-aabot sa xerox clerk.)
(Muling maglalakad ang dalawa sa kanilang dinaanan kanina hanggang sa sapitin nila ang gate.)
Cat. Wala kang balak sumama?
Elaine. (Magkukunwari) Wala.
Cat. Baka gusto mong magbalak na dahil ako balak kong ikaw ang paglulutuin ko habang naglalaba ako.
Elaine. Sige na nga. Daan muna kaya tayo sa boarding house ko. Kukunin kong mga labahin ko, isasabay ko na rin. (Hihinto ang isang traisikel sa kanilang harapan. Tututok ang camera sa kanila pag-akyat at paglulan, aandar at mawawala ang traisikelpagliko sa isang kanto.)
Sa apartment ni Cat.
Elaine. Ikaw na kaya ang magluto Cat.
Cat. Ikaw na kaya lahat (Pabiro.) Babasahin ko na ang Sakontala. (Magbabago ang isip.) Hindi, ilagay mo na kaya ang labahin sa washing, sabawan mo, lagyan mo ng sabon, paandarin mo. Andian lang ang sabon. Ilabas mo na tuloy ang konting karne sa ref, babad mo para madaling mag-thaw.
Elaine. Ako na kaya lahat?
Cat. H'wag naman. Ako na ang magbaanlaw para di ka lugi.
Elaine. Hindi na, sige na, ako na lahat. (Sa pagkoconcentrate ni Cat sa kanyang pagbabasa, ilang sandaling hindi sila makaka-imik.) Di kaya para mo na akong asawa nito?
Cat. Anong asawa? Katulong. Pero parang ganun na nga siguro.
Elaine. Na ano...?
Cat. ...asawa.
Elaine. Akala ko katulong. Ang dami naman nitong labahan mo. Ilang linggo ka bang hindi nakapaglaba?
Cat. Dinagdag mo pa kasing labahin mo. (Tatayo si Cat, lalakad patungo kay Elaine na nakaharap sa washing machine.)
Elaine. (Magugulat sa biglang pagyakap sa kanya ni Cat, gagapang ang kanyang kamay sa puson ni Elaine) Akala ko ba paglalabahin mo ako (sabay ikot upang harapin si Cat.)
Cat. Mamaya na kaya yan.
Elaine. Papa'nong hapunan natin?
Cat. Padeliver na lang tayo. (Maglalapat ang kanilang mga labi, hahantong sa bed scene hanggang sa tutunog ang doorbell ng pinto sa pagdating ng pinadideliver na pagkain. Babangon si Cat, dali-daling magusuot ng short, tutungohin ang pinto, bubuksan at tatanggapin at magbabayad at saka isasarang muli ang pinto.)
Sa isang pier, pasado alas otso ng gabi
(Mangilan-ngilang tao ang naghihintay sa loob ng pier, hinihintay ang pagdaung ng barkong galing sa kabilang isla. Tatayo si Elaine sa may di kalayuan, nakatuon ang paningin sa barkong kasalukuyang minamaniobrang ididikit sa pantalan. Hahanapin ng paningin ni Elaine si Cat sa pila ng mga pasaherong nakaamba nang bumada. Atubiling kakaway si Elaine sa direksiyon ng isang pasaherong wari niya'y si Cat. Tutok ang camera kay Cat habang papalapit siya sa kinatatayuang ni Elaine.)
Elaine. Hoy!
Cat. Andian ka lang pala. (Sasabay sa paglalakad si Elaine.)
Elaine. Hindi mo naman kasi ako hinanap ng iyong paningin eh, parang hindi mo inaasahang sasalubong ako.
Cat. Nakakuha ka na ng kopya?
Elaine. Yan na kaagad ang pag-uusapan natin? Balitaan mo muna ako sa lakad mo.
Cat. Kailangan Len, pag hindi umabot ng 90 ang grade ko baka masipa ako sa university. Noong isang semester, baka akala mo, may isang subject na ako na hindi umabot ng 90 sa kakagimik natin.
Elaine. Walang sisihan naman, Cat.
Cat. Hindi kita sinisisi, kagagawan nating dalawa ito.
Elaine. Hindi mo ba ako pasasamahin sa apartment ngayon?
Cat. Ikaw.
Elaine. Anong ako?
Cat. Ikaw ang bahala kung sasama ka. Pero h'wag na mun kaya, pagod ako sa biyahe. Daan na lang tayo dian sa Expresso kain tayo ng haponan baka di ka pa kumakain. Miss din kasi kita kaya maski magkakagastos sa kakalibre ko sa'yo ok lang magkasama lang tayo kahit sandali.
Elaine. Ano nga, pagud ka? Pag sumama ba ako sa apartment mo ganun na kaagad. (Isisinyas ang interpretasyon ng ibig sabihin ng sinabing salita.)
Cat. E, anong malay ko ba sa iniisip mo ngayon.
Elaine. Iniisip na ano.
Cat. Wala, wala, kalimutan na yon.
(Sasapitin ng dalawa ang Expresso, uupo sa isang mesang pandalawahan na nasa isang tago na sulok. Lalapit ang isang waitress para kunin ang kanilang order.)
Elaine. Maganda bang lugar n'yo?
Cat. Kung sa ganda, syempre lugar ko yon maski pa hindi mo maihahambing sa Maynila mo ang lugar ko.
Elaine. Ba't ka nga ba umuwi?
Cat. Kailangan kong magpakita sa school ko from time to time, pinagrereport ako ng dean ko.
Elaine. Sa susunod na pasukan ba talagang wala ka na?
Cat. Ganito na lang Len, kung talagang balak mong mag M.A. mag enrol ka. Total sabi ko naman sa'yo pupunta-punta pa rin naman ako rito. May cellphone naman eh, text ka, text tayo. Magkakaalaman tayo kung kelan kita mapupuntahan.
Elaine. Hmm, text ako nang text sa'yo, di ka sumasagot. Panay ang miscall ko di o sinasagot hanggang sa naging unattended.
(Dadating ang waitress, saglit na papask sa tutok ng camera at muling mawawala paglapag sa mesa ng kanilang inorder na pagkain.)
Cat. Nasa bulsa ko lang kasi ang cellphone ko sa pantalon ko sa kwarto. Lobat nuong iwan ko hanggang sa nag-empty. Maiba tayo, yong apartment gusto mong saluhin, ikaw na ang tumira?
Elaine. Baka. Pag-iisipan ko pa. 'Di pa naman kasi buo ang loob ko kung babalik nga ako rito.
Cat. Dahil ba wala na ako next sem?
Elaine. Parang ganun na nga rin siguro.
Cat. Bukas makalawa puntahan natin ang may-ari sakaling makapag decide ka. Hanggang July pa ang bayad nun.
Elaine. Hindi mo ba talaga ako isasama ngayon?
Cat. Sige na, sama ka na kung gusto mong sumama. Oy, yong apartment baka 'kala mo may kalapitan ng konti sa sementerio yon ha.
Elaine. Ano namang kinalaman nuon?
Cat. E syempre doon ka titira kung sakasakali. Baka mamaya nadiskubre mo murahin mo pa ako ng di ko nalalaman, kesyo tumira ako malapit sa sementerio. Dali-an mo na kaya yang kinakain mo't gusto ko nang humilata talaga sa pagod.
Elaine. E, ba't doon ka ba tumira?
Cat. Walang makuhang iba e. (Sa waitress) Miss, chit namin.
Sa loob ng datin sild-aralan ng unibersidad, kasalukyang nagkaklase ang Amerikano propesor, Pygmalion ang dulang tinatalakay. Kagaya ng dati magkatabing naka-upo sina Cat at Elaine.
Propesor. We will be watching the move before we read the play. Just one trivial question, you have any idea why Bernard Shaw titled this play Pygmalion.
(Mahinang siniko ni Cat si Elaine, uutosang itaas ang kamay.)
Cat. (Pabulong) Taas mong kamay mo, isusulat ko rito ang isasagot mo.
Propesor. Yes, Miss Fuentez.
Elaine. Maybe...he modeled...his play...to the story...about Pygmalion...that fellow who...carved an ivory...into a a statue...of a beautiful...woman and the...statue became a...real woman, beautiful.
Propesor. You reading something?
Elaine. Yeah, I wrote down here first what I want to say. (Itataas ang kopya ng dula kung saan sinulat ni Cat ang kanyang isasagot.)
Propesor. Alright. (Sa buong klase) After we watch the movie and after we read the play, we will see how true this lady's answer is. (Magiging abala ang Propesor sa tv at cd player upang masimula'ng ipalabas ang sine. Uupo sa isang sulok ang Propesor malayo kena Cat at Elaine. Iba ang pagkaka-abalahan ni Cat at Elaine, mag-uusap sa pamamagitan ng pagsusulat ng kanilang mga salita sa kopya ng dulang tinatalakay. Tutok ang caera sa kamay ni Elaine na nagsusulat ng kanyang sasabihin kay Cat. Kakalabitin niya si Cat para mapansin ang kanyang sinulat doon.)
Elaine. (3days na.)
Cat. (Anong 3days)
Elaine. (3days na akong delayed)
(Lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa nababahalang mukha ni Cat ilang sandali bago sundan ng camera ang kanyang kamay na susulat ng kanyang isasagot.)
Cat. (Ano?)
(Steady ang camera sa kopya ng dula, papalit-palit ang kamay nina Cat at Elaine sa pagsusulat.)
Elaine. (Papa'no kung buntis ako?)
Cat. (Sana hindi, sana delayed lang.)
Elaine. (Sana nga. 'Di ka ba matutuwa kung saka-sakali?)
Cat. (Did we want na magbuntis ka?)
Elaine. (Syempre hindi, pero we both knew na yon ang maging consequence. Teka nga muna, bakit ba ganyan ang sagot mo?)
Cat. (Wala akong ibig sabihin, pero sana hindi muna ngayon.)
Elaine. (E, papa'no nga kung nandito na 'to?)
Cat. (Sa panahon pa kasing maglalayo tayo, saka naman 'andian yan.)
Elaine. ('Di h'wag kang aalis, h'wag mo akong iwan.)
(Ilang sandaling mapapatigil ang kamay ni Cat sa kopya ng dula na walang naisulat. Tutok ng camera sa balisang mukha ni Cat, lipat kay Elaine at sa buong silid-aralan at saka muling babalik kay Cat na nasa kopya pa rin ng dula ang kamay, hawak ang ballpen.)
Cat. (Usap tayo mamaya.)
(Babaling ang camera sa buong silid-aralan, sa TV, hanggang sa magwakas ang palabas. Tutunog ang higanteng kalembang ng unibersidad hudyat ng pagtatapos ng klase. Magtatayuan ang mga estudiante, camera kay Elaine na nauang tumayo at saglit na maghihintay sa may pintuan. Mabigat ang katawan ni Cat na tatayo, wala interes makarating sa kinatatayuan ni Elaine at sa ano pang salitang nalalabing sabihin sa kanya ni Elaine.)
Elaine. Ano? Papa'no?
Cat. Anong ano? Anong papa'no? Sabi ko naman mapag-uusapan din natin yan.
Elaine. Sa totoo lang Cat, walang problema sa'kin pag-uusapan pa natin 'to o hindi.
Cat. Wala akong sinasabing ganun. (Lalakad ang dalawa papalabas ng silid-aralan. Susundan sila ng tutok ng camera hanggang sa sila ay makarating sa gate papalabas ng campus.) Ganun man ang naging reaction ko, wala akong ibig sabihing iba, nabigla lang ako, dumarating pati ang finals.
(Magka-ibang traisikel ang kanilang masasakyan, mauunang makakasakay si Cat. Susundan siya ng tingin ni Elaine ngunit bigo siya sa kanyang inaasahang lilingunin siya ni Cat.)
Sa clinic ng isang doktor sa loob ng isang ospital.
Cat. Dok, good morning.
Doktor. Good morning. Matagal n'yo na bang napansin ito?
Cat. Walang binabanggit sa'kin ang misis ko Dok maliban noong nagsimula na siyang mahirapang dumumi.
Doktor. Ganito na lang, (ikakatok ng Doktor ang kanyang kamao ng pataob sa ibabaw ng kanyang mesa) h'wag naman sana.
Cat. Papa'nong mga ganung kaso Dok, nakukuha pa ba sa opera ang ganito?
Doktor. Kung ako, hindio ako magrerekomenda sa'yo ng opera. Ayokong lalabas na gusto lamang kitang kwartahan. Hangga't maari ayokong nagkakagasto ang mga patiente ko. Hindi solusyon ang operasyon sa ganitong karamdaman. Masisira lang ang quality of life sa nalalabing mga araw ng iyong asawa kung iyon man 'yong hinala ko.
Cat. Masisirang papa'no Dok?
Doktor. Once na na-opera ang misis mo, ang sabi mo hirap siyang dumumi, which means nandian lang sa large intestine o baka 'andian mismo sa kanyang tumbong nagsimulang tumubo ang sakit n'ya. Once na na-opera ang misis mo, magdadala siya sa kanyang baywang for the rest of the remaining days of her life ng colostomy bag. Pati ikaw, madadagdagan ang iyong paghihirap dahil natural walang ibang magtatapon ng laman ng colostomy bag pag napupuno kundi ikaw.
Cat. Colostomy bag Dok?
Doktor. Yon yong paglalagyan ng dumi ng misis mo dahil doon na mapuupunta ang dumi ng misis mo pag naoperahan siya.
Cat. Ganun po ba yon?
Doktor. Sa opera baka iikli lang ang buhay ng misis mo. Baka duon mismo sa operating table madigrasya ang misis mo. Or maari siyang ma-ICU, pagkatapos ng operasyon. Baka akala mo magkano per day sa ICU, mura na yong P7,500 baka isang milyon kukulangin. At kung halimbawa magiging successful ang operasion natural pupunta punta ka pa rin dito, magpapakemo ng misis mo dahil useless ang opera kung di mo ipapakemo. Laking abala sa'yo yon, sa inyong dalawa, lalo na sa kanya dahil siya yong may sakit.
Cat. Ganun ba yon Dok?
Doktor. Oo ganun yon.
Cat. Dok, salamat.
Sa Apartment ni Cat.
Elaine. Ano nga bang tunay na dahilan bakit hindi mo ako pinapunta rito noong isang linggo?
Cat. 'Di ba sabi ko sa'yo magpafinals na; nang makapconcentrate naman tayo. Baka masipa nga ako sa university.
Elaine. Alam mo Cat, wala namang problema sa akin pakikisamahan mo man ako o hindi, pananagutan mo man itong dinadala ko o hindi. Ano ba, ganun ka ba talaga?
Cat. Na ano?
Elaine. Na kung sinu-sinong babae ang dinadala mo rito.
Cat. Babae?
Elaine. Oo, babae.
Cat. Ano bang pinagsasabi mo? (Flashback noong mga sandaling nasa apartment si Bibing, pagkagaling makunan ng tissue sample sa isang clinic)
Elaine. Maang-maangan ka lang. E, ano ba yong natuyong dugo roon sa upuan ng inuduro? Ganun ka ba talaga? Likas ba sa'yo ang pagkababaero mo at isa lamang ako sa naging babae mo?
Cat. Ipagpalagay na natin na babae ko yon, at isa ka sa naging babae ko, sino bang nagpasimula ng lahat na ito, di ba ikaw?
Elaine. Ang alin, itong relasyon natin?
Cat. Oo, itong relasyon natin.
Elaine. Pap'ano naging ako?
Cat. Di ba doon ka umuupo sa gitna ng tatlong bakanteng upuan sa pinakalikod para tiyak na makakatabi mo ako ng upo sa kaliwa man o sa kanan ako uupo?
Elaine. At bakit parang sinasadyang mong lagi kang nali-late sa subject na 'yon?
(Mawawala ang tono ng pag-aaway pagkatapos ng ilang saglit na katahimikan.)
Cat. Kapwa lang tayo dumidiskarte Len.
Elaine. Papano 'to? (Ihahawak ni Elaine ang isang kamay sa kanyang puson.)
Cat. (Bahagyang ngingiti.) Akala ko ba walang problema sa iyo pananagutan ko man yan o hindi.
Elaine. Pinuproblema ko na ngayon.
Cat. Sabi ko naman sa'yo mapag-uusapan din natin yan. Di pa naman halata eh. Oy, baka Martes pa lang next week uuwi na ako.
Elaine. Papa'nong exams mo?
Cat. Pinakiusapan ko na lahat ng propesor ko. Pati yong sa atin, through email na lang ang submission pati paper requirements. Martes ng umaga ko makukuha ang test question sa subject natin. Kinahaponan sasakay na ako pauwi ng amin. Kelangan kong makapagreport kinabukasan.
Elaine. Xerox mo ako ng test question
Cat. Oo, ikaw pa, yang mandaraya mong yan. Pero iba ang magiging questions sigurao ninyo. Pero di bale, xerox pa rin kita.
Elaine. Kailan ka makakabalik rito?
Cat. Baka sa enrolment na next year, ewan ko di ko matiyak.
Elaine. May ii-enrol ka pa?
Cat. Oo mayroon pa, thesis writing. Pero makapag-enrol lang ako kung wala akong bagsak nagyong sem na ito. May bagsak na akong isa noong nakaraang sem. Di naman bagsak actually, di lang uimabot sa standard pero parang bagsak na rin. Depende sa sasabihin ng department chairman. Ang hirap pa naman kausap noon, ang sungit, palibhasa matandang dalaga. Ikaw papa'no ka? Tiyakin mong makapag-enrol next year ha.
Elaine. Mag-law na lang kaya ako.
Cat. Ganito na lang, magenrol ka na next year, law o M.A. total may babalikan pa naman ako rito kahit pap'ano. 'Di ko lang matiyak kung pag-ienrolin nga ako. Syempre, natural, sasaluhin mo 'kamo itong apartment, alam ko saan kita pupuntahan. Yan ay kung talagang decidido kang mag-law o mag-M.A. At kung interesado ka pa na magkita tayo.
Elaine. Kaya ko nga binalak ang ganun para magkita pa rin tayo dahil pananagutin kita nito (ituturo ni Nicole ang kanyang kamay)
Cat. Oo, pananagutan ko yan, hindi kita lalayasan. Pahawak. (ililigid ni Cat angkanyang kamay sa tiyan ni Elaine ng pahaplos. Wala pa naman ah, (Lilipat sa bandang ibaba ang kanyang kamay.) Ito, laging nandito. Padeliver na lang tayo ng hapunan?
Elaine. Ikaw? Teka nga muna, ano muna yong tanong ko kanina, sagutin mo --- yong nasa iniduro. (Sa halip na sagutin ang tanong ay inilapat ang kanayang mga labi sa mga labi ni Elaine hanggang sa humantong sila natatanging gawain ng magsing-irog na ang minsan ay hindi sapat.)
Sa bahay ni Cat, pasado alas 5 ng hapon
(Maghihintay sa labas ang kanyang asawang si Bibing. Pagkatanaw na dumarating si Cat, papasok naman sa loob, sa salas, ang kanyang asawa at pagkabukas ng pinto sa pagpasok ni Cat, titingin si Bibing sa mga mata ni Cat at saka iiling, tatayo at papasok sa kanilang silid. Ilalapag ni Cat sa sofa ang mga dala-dalang mga bag, hahayaang manatili sa lapag ng sahig ang ang mga kahong pinaglagyan ng mga bahagi ng kanyang computer. Tamlay na maghuhubad ng sapatos si Cat, isisilid ang midyas sa sapatos at saka itutulak sa ilalim ng sofa. Pabagsak na isasandal ni Cat ang kanyang likod sa sandalan ng sofa, pag-abutin ang dalawang kamay sa likod ng batok at hindi malaman saan itutuon ang paningin, mapapabuntong hininga at iiling. Paglipas ang ilang sandali ay tatayo siya, tutungohin ang pinto ng kanilang silid, pipihit ang kanyang kamay sa door knob, papasok at dahan-dahang isasara na waring hindi ibig makalikha ng ingay.)
(Tatabi ng higa si Cat kay Bibing, tututok ang camera sa naglalaliman nitong mga pisngi. Urong ang tutok ng camera kay Bibing na nakaduster lamang atsaka unti-unting lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa mga binteng wala na ring lusog. Susuklayin ni Cat ang buhok ni Bibing ng kanyang palad mula noo pataas at pagkatapos ay pauunanin ni Cat ang ulo ng asawa sa kanyang kaliwang bisig habang idadagan ng pigil ang bigat ang kanang hita sa bandang tuhod ng kanyang asawa.
Bibing. Ano daw ba ang sakit ko Cat? (Tutok ng camera ng malapitan kay Cat na balisang hindi malaman ang isasagot. Lipat ang tutok ng camera pagkaraan ng ilang sandali sa imahe ng Divine Mercy na nakalagak sa isang mesetang ginawa ni Bibing na parang altar sa paanan ng kanilang higaan. Balik ang tutok ng camera sa mukha ni Cat at pagkatapos ay sa kanilang dalawa. Saglit na ilalapat ni Cat ang kanyang labi sa mga labi ng asawa lilipat ang kanyang halik sa bandang sulok ng mata at pagkatapos ay sa noo.) H'wag mo na lang kayang sabihin Cat, h'wag na rin nating pag-usapan.
Cat. (Mapapabuntong-hininga.) Mas mabuti pa nga siguro. Pero kung anong paniniwalaan ko na makakabuti sa iyo, paniwalaan mo rin. Ito may nirecita ang doktor. (Agad tutok ng camera sa hawak ni Cat nakapaketeng parang shampoo na ang tatak ay Fibrosine.)
Bibing. Ano daw ba yan?
Cat. Tutunawingdaw ito e, tapos iinumin mo. Sandali ha. (Iiwanan sandali ni Cat ang asawa tutungohin ang refrigerator, kukuha ng tubig gugupitin ana paketeng hawak na "gamot" isasalin sa bao, bubuhosan ng tubig, hahaluin ng kutsarita at saka lalakad balik sa kanilang silid.) Inumin mo ito ha.
Bibing. Ano daw ba yan?
Cat. Gamot nga daw e.
Bibing. Iinumin ko yan pero mangako ka munang hindi mo na muna ako iiwan; h'wag ka na munang babalik sa university mo.
Cat. Ano? Papa'no na ang pagtuturo ko n'yan? Tinataningan ako, kaming lahat na wala pang M.A. tinataningan kami ng dalawang taon para makuha ang M.A. namin. Kung hindi, pag-reresignin kami sa trabaho.
Bibing. Tinatangan ka ba? Papa'no ako kung may taning na rin ako. Kahit man lamang sa mga huling araw ng aking buhay gusto ko 'andian ka lang sa aking tabi.
Cat. Papa'nong trabaho ko?
Bibing. Mabuti ka nga trabaho mo lang ang pinoproblema mo. E, ako, kalusugan ko at buhay ko ang pinoproblema ko.
Cat. Bing, sweetheart,'kala ko ba'y hindi natin pag-uusapan ang kalagayan mo at karamdaman mo?
Bibing. Kaya nga e, paki-usapan mo ang dean mo, total nasa thesis writing kana 'kamo. Kung gusto mo banggitin mo sa kanila ang karamdaman ko. Papayag yan Cat, alam ko. Hahabain nila ang palugit nila sa M.A. mo.
Cat. O sige, sige, kakausapin ko bukas. Pero teka muna, baka ini-isip mong pag-leavin ako, hindi puede ha.
Bibing. Wala akong sinasabing ganun. Basta't nandito ka lang sa bahay tama na sa'kin yon.
Sa pila ng enrolment
(Nasa bandang gitna sa pila si Elaine, nasa kanyang likuran si Mat, dudukot ng cellphone sa kanyang bulsa a mag-titext.)
(Gagala ang aningin ni Elaine sa paligid, sa pier at sa mga barkong nakadaung doon na waring pinapangarap si Cat. Babalik ang kanyang paningin sa counter ng tanggapan ng registrar at muli sa paligid hanggang sa mapalingon siya kay Mat. Saglit na magsasalubong ang kanilang paningin. Ilang sandaling pag-aatubili ang lilipas bago magkaroon ng lakas ng loob si Mat na kausapin si Elaine.)
Mat. Hi
Elaine. Hi.
Mat. Puedeng makitext sa cell mo? Naubosan ako ng load e. Nasa bangko kasing kapatid ko, aapurahin ko lang. Kulang kasing pera ko, baka makarating na tayo sa counter nakakahiya. Pumila na kasi ako agad habang naghihintay ako sa brother ko.
Elaine. Ok, pero isa lang ha, wala na rin kasi akong load.
Mat. (Tutok ng camera kay Mat, malapitan sa cellphone pero hindi ipapakita ang sinusulat sa screen. Ilang sandali, isosoi ni Mat ang cellphone kay Elaine.) Thanks ha, malapit-lapit na tayo. Salamat uli ha.
Elaine. Ok. Nandito pa ang message mo?
Mat. Dinelete ko na. Thanks ulit ha.
Elaine. Ok.
Sa isang publikong sementerio
(Tutungohin ni Cat ang isang bagong nitso sa bandang looban ng libingan. Palipat-lipat siya ng tapak sa mga nitsong patung-patong ng walang kaayusan bago niya marating ang nitsong sadya.)
(Nakalaylay sa kanyang balikat ang isang travel bag na busog sa laman. Sa kanyang kamay, magkasamang hinahawakan ang tatlong pirasong ga-daliri sa laking mga kandila at isang bigkis ng bulaklak ng santan na sari-sari ang kulay na nakalagay sa boteng dating pinaglagyan ng mayonaise.)
(Tutok ng camera sa tinutungong nitsong malapit nang marating. Sandaling close-up sa larawan ng kanyang yumaong asawa na nasa ibabaw ng nitso. Ilalapag ni Cat sa nitso ang hawak niyang kandila at bulaklak at pagkatapos ay ititirik at sisindihan ang kandila sa tabi ng mga bulaklak. Bubulong si Cat ng ilang kataga ng panalangin at pagkatapos ay kukunin ang larawan ni Bibing na ngayo'y nagsisimulang nang kumupas.)
(May ilang sandali pa bago tatalikuran ni Cat ang nitso at pagkatapos ay muli niyang tatahakin ang kanyang dinaanan kanina. Sa kanyang pagdating sa may labasan ng sementerio, isang bus ang dumarating, paparahin at lululan. Tutok ng camera sa kanyang pag-akyat sa estrebo hanggang sa ang likuran na lamang ng bus ang makikita ng camera.)
Sa aparment ni Cat na ngayo'y si Elaine na ang nagungupahan.
(Tutunog ang cellphone ni Elaine sa pagdating ng isang text. Bigla ang tutok ng camera sa screen ng cellphone. Walang mensahe kundi "hi.")
Elaine. (Sa kanyang sarili.) Sino kaya ito? (Iiyak ang isang sanggol kung saan pansamantalang mababaling ang kanyang atensiyon.) Nay, kayo na nga po muna ang magpatahan kay baby, sasagutin ko lang po itong dumating na text.
Aling Leny. Ano na naman ba yang teksteks na yan? Baka lalaki na naman yan, madala ka na, puede ba.
Elaine. Hindi po. Lalaki nga po pero tungkol po sa school ito, kaklase ko po.
Aling Leny. Siguraduhin mo lang, baka disgrasia na naman ang abutin mo dian.
Elaine. Opo, hindi po.
(Camera kay Mat na nasa loob ng isang internet cafe at sa nayayanig na screen ng computer sa padating ng isang text message. Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa cellphone na nasa tabi ng keyboard. Tuloy ang tutok ng camera, close up sa screen nito at sa nai-type nang mensahe: SA PILA NG ENROLMENT, REMEMBER? NAKIGAMIT AKO NG CELL MO.)
(Camera kay Elaine na ngayong nakahiga katabi ang kanyang natutulog na sanggol habang nagbabasa ng librong kulay itim na kadalasang pabalat ng mga libro ng mga estudiante ng abugasiya. Bahagya siyang magugulat sa pag-vibrate ng kanyang cellphone na nasa bulsa ng kanyang short. Dudukotin ni Elaine ang cellphone, babasahin ang dumating na text at magtatype ng sagot.)
(Camera kay Mat na naka ambang itutulak ang pinto ng internet cafe, babasahin ang text na dumaing at idadial ang number ni Elaine.)
(Camera kay Elaine, tatayo mula sa pagkakahiga, lalakad patungong banyo at doon sasagotin ang tawag upang h'wag marinig ng kanyang ina. Hati ang screen, sa isang bahagi si Elaine at sa isa ay si Mat.
Elaine. Hello!
Mat. Busy ka yata at pinatawag mo ako.
Elaine. Oo, inestorbo mo nga ako. Tamad pati ako magtext sa hindi kakilala.
Mat. Musta?
Elaine. Ba't mo ba ako kinukomusta eh hindi nga tayo magkakilala.
Mat. Ganun?
Elaine. Di kinuha mo pala sa cell ng kapatid mo ang numero ko?
Mat. (Magkikibit-balikat, mapagkunwari ang pagsagot.) Oo, kinuha ko. May time ka?
Elaine. Na ano?
Mat. Yayayain sana kita. sa Jolibee lang tayo o kaya sa Chow King.
Elaine. Naku ha! Ni hindi ko gaanong namukhaan ang 'itsura mo, magyayaya ka. Ang ibig mong sabihin magtitiwala ako sa iyo agad.
Mat. At least naman siguro pag nakita mo ako ulit maalala mong 'itsura ng pagmumukha kong ito. At saka ano namang kalapastanganang magagawa ko sa iyo sa mga ganung lugar.
Elaine. O sige, sige. Magaling ka rin lang mangatwiran, na intriga rin lang ako sa pagkatao mo at sa lakas ng loob mo, sige, puede ako. Pero mamaya pa between 2:30 and 3 ako puede bago ako tutuloy sa klase ko.
Mat. 2:30? Ligaw Intsek daw ang ganyang oras ah.
Elaine. Lumiligaw ka na ba sa lagay na yan?
Mat. Hindi pa naman. Ganun ang sabi eh, ligaw Intsek daw kapag ganung oras.
Elaine. Kung ayaw mo ng ganung oras, di h'wag mo.
(Camera kina Elaine at Mat na nasa loob ng Jollibee sa isang pangdalawahang upuan. Sa salamin lamang sila nakikita ngunit, maririnig na ang kanilang pag-uusap.)
Elaine. Belib din naman ako sa lakas ng loob mo.
Mat. Alin yong naglakas-loob akong makigamit ng cell mo gayong hindi naman tayo magkakiala
Elaine. Hmm.
Mat. Natural lang siguro kahit kanino nangyari ang ganun. Kapag ganung kelangang-kelangan, wala nang hiya-hiya pa siguro. Kung aalis pa ako nun sa pila para bumili ng load, masasayang ang itinayo ko roon ng pagkatagal-tagal.
(Ngayo'y malapitan ang tutok ng camera sa kanila dalawa.)
Elaine. Di kinuha mo sa cell ng kapatid mo ang numero ko?
Mat. Parang ganun. Ang totoo ay...
Elaine. ...anong totoo?
Mat. Hindi.
Elaine. Hindi! Ano nga ang totoo?
Mat. Ganun nga.
Elaine. Ano nga?
Mat. Na kinuha ko sa cellphone ng kapatid ko ang numero mo.
Elaine. May duda ako sa sagot mo, tandaan mo?
Mat. Di ako sanay na pinagduduhan ang salita ko.
Elaine. Hindi rin ako sanay na pinaglololoko ako. Baka nagbabalak kang lumigaw, dumiskarke ka lang ng maayos. Yong hindi mo ako sinisilid sa bulsa mo. Yong paniniwalain mo ako ng kung anu-ano. hindi puede sa akin ang ganun.
Mat. Galit ka na n'yan?
Elaine. Wala namang problema sa iyo o sa akin magalit man ako o matuwa ako sa iyo dahil we are strangers, we don't know each other.
Mat. Then let's know each other. Name ko ay Mat -- Mat Ronquillo. Bago ka ba sa university?
Elaine. Sa law first year ko pa ngayon, pero dito ako graduate ng A.B. ko noong isa pang taon.
Mat. Kaya pala parang noon lang kita nakita. Una lang ako sa iyo ng isang taon. Sa ibang university ako graduate ng college -- sa Mindanao. (Maaalala ni Elaine si Cat. May ilang saglit bago magpatuloy ang kanilang pag-uusap.) Bakt?
Elaine. Wala, wala. Sa'n sa Mindanao?
Mat. Sa Xavier sa Cagayan.
Elaine. Dito rin (ituturo ang dagat) sa dagat na ito tumatawid papuntang inyo?
Mat. Oo,
Elaine. Dian? (Sa tonong ibig makatiyak.)
Mat. Puede pero malayo pa ang bibyahiin, walong oras pa. Mayroon direct Cagayan galing Maynila kaya lang tuwing Biernes lang. Ikaw, taga saan ka?
Elaine. Taga Maynila ako.
Mat. E, bakit dito ka nag-college at dito ka nag-law, ang daming university doon.
Elaine. Taga rito ang Mama ko pero andun sila pareho sa Maynila ng Papa ko, umuwi lang ako roon pag bakasyon. Oy, mag-aalas kwatro na, papasok na ako.
Mat. Sabay na tayo.
Elaine. E, di dalian mo na.
Mat. Mahaba-haba pa ang oras ah, at saka ang lapit lang ng school. Sandali na lang 'to, uubosin ko lang 'tong drinks ko. (Pagkatapos ng ilang sandaling pag-aatubili.) Alam mo talaga, yon lang ang naisip kong paraan para makuha ko ang numero mo. sarili kong cell ang tinext ko nung humiram ako ng cell mo. Alam ko bulok na ang style na yon, wala lang talaga akong maisip na ibang paraan.
Elaine. Di nagtapat ka rin.
Mat. Kanina ko pa sana gustong bumigay kaya lang mainit p'ang dugo mo. Baka awayin mo ako, baka pagalitan mo ako, magmukha akong tangah. Sorry, ha, masyado akong pangahas.
Elaine. Talagang mainit ang dugo ko kapag ganun. Pero okay lang, okay na. At least nagsabi ka ng katotohanan. Baka mag-attempt kang manligaw ha, magsasayang ka lang ng oras mo. Halika na't mali-late na ako. Sumabay ka na kung gusto mo.
Sa Department of English and Literature ng unibersidad.
(Manggagaling si Cat sa tanggapan ng Department of English and Literature. Pagkatapos na isa-isang titi'gnan ang kanyang mga classcards noong huli niyang sem sa unibersidan, i-titiklop niya ang mga ito at isisilid sa kanyang bulsa sa likod ng kanyang pantalon. Lalakad siyang papalabas ng tanggapan at sa gusaling Katipunan Hall patungong gate papalabas ng campus. Babaybayin si Cat sa kalye labas na ng campus hanggang sa matanaw niya sa tapat ng gusaling Villareal Hall kung saan nadoon ang Law School ng unibersidad. Tiempo naman papasok sa isa pang gate roon sina Elaine at Mat.)
Mat. Nasa room 321 ako, third floor.
Elaine. (Walang salitang lalabas sa kanyang bibig kundi kibit-balikat.)
(Magmamadaling lalakad si Cat upang mahabol at abutan si Elaine bago ito makapasok sa kanyang klase.)
Cat. Len, sandali.
Elaine. Hmm, buhay ka pa pala!
Cat. Komusta ka na?
Elaine. Ok ka rin ano, kinumusta mo ako. (Napa-iling iling sa galit si Elaine na tititig kay Cat.) Nasaan ba ang mga pangungumusta mong yan, nasaan ba ang mga pangungumusta mong yan noong kailangan kita, nuong kailangang kailangan kita?
Cat. Ewan ko kung uunawain mo ako. Ewan ko kung mauunawaan mo ako.
Elaine. Wala akong dapat unawain sa'yo. 'Etong cellphone ko (Ipamumukha ni Elaine ang kanyang cellphone kay Cat na halos isungalngal na sa bunganga ni Cat.) nagtext ka man lang ba? Hindi! putang ina mo! Halos gusto kong ihampas sa pader itong cellphone kong ito. Kung tinamad kang magtext, tumawag ka man lang sana; nagmiscall ka man lang sana. Ako na ang nagmiscall, unattended ka, pinagtaguan mo ako, buwisit kang putang ina mo ka!
Cat. "Yon nga ang gusto kong ipaliwanag sa iyo at ibig kong unawain mo. Naibenta kong cellphone ka dahil pinang-gastos ko sa sakit ng asawa...
Elaine. Ayon, may asawa ka pala, nagsalita ka rin ng diretsahan na may awawa ka. (Mawawala ang galit ng bahagya) Kung sabagay, sa isang banda, kasalanan ko rin. Hindi ko binusisi ng husto ang pagkatao mo bago ako lubusang nagtiwala sa iyo. Pero hindi 'yon, wala na 'yon. Sana man lamang doon mo ako kinumusta bago mo tuloyang ibinenta ang cellphone mo kahit may asawa kang tao.
Cat. Sino 'yon, 'yong kasama mo?
Elaine. Mas nakabubuti para sa ating h'wag na nating intindihin sinong mga nakakasama natin sa kalye man o saan?
Cat. Ang apartment
Elaine. Binitawan mo na yon, h'wag mo nang pakialaman 'yon. Sa tagal mo ba namang walang communication, unaasa ka pang ikaw pa rin ang ituturing na tenant doon. Sige, papasok na ako. (Aambang lalakad si Elaine; hahadlang si Cat.)
Cat. Kita naman tayo ulit.
Elaine. Kung magkikita pa tayo ng sadya, magtatagpo sa isang lugar tulad ng dati, hindi na puede yon. H'wag mo nang asahan. At kung inaasahan mong kakausapin pa kita tulad nito pag nakikita mo ako sa campus, utang na loob, h'wag mo akong ina-abangabangan pa. Paraanin mo ako't mahuhuli na ako sa klase ko.
Sa apartment na ngayo'y si Elaine na ang nakatira.
(Alas Otso pasado ng gabi, liligid ang camera sa paligid ng apartment, unti-unti itong tututok ng malapitan sa bintana ng silid ni Elaine na nakakurtina ng puting tetoron. Kasalukuyang nakasindi ang ilaw. Maririnig ng mahina ang lagitgit ng duyang kawayan na patigil na ang ugoy. mamatay ang ilaw sa kisame, saglit na didilim atsaka papalit ang ilaw ng simpleng lampshade na nasa isang sulok ng silid. Mag-iiba ang kulay ng kurtina sa pagpalit ng liwanag mula sa flourescent tungo sa bombilyang de-kinse ng lampshade. Aalun-alon ang anino ng duyan sa puting kurtina habang ini-ihip-ihipan ng hangin ng bentilador sa isa pang sulok ng silid.)
(Lipat ang tutok ng camera kay Cat na nakamasid sa tanawing iyon sa labas ng apartment. Unti-unting close up sa kanyang mukha ng patagilid habang tinatanaw ang bintana hanggang sa mababaling ang kanyang paningin sa paghinto ng isang traisikel di kalayuan sa kanyang kinatatayuan. Bababa si Elaine, maiiwang lulan si Mat, lilingonin ni Elaine ang traisikel pag-alis nito.)
Cat. Sandali naman Len. (Tangkang hindi papansinin ni Elaine si Cat. Patuloy ito sa paglalakad, hahadlang si Cat.) Bigyan mo lang ako ng pagkakataong magpaliwanag. Ito, itong pagkakataong ito; itong sandaling ito. Hayaan mo naman sana akong makapagpaliwanag at pagkatapos ay hinding hindi mo ako makikita pang muli. Hindi ako maaring naroroon sa dalawang lugar sa isang pagkakataon. At kung hindi ko nagawang magsalita ng diretsahan kung 'yon man ang naging problema ko sa'yo -- ang tungkol sa pagkatao ko, yon ay dahil ayokong lalayo ka, ayokong mawala ka sa akin. Hindi sa gusto kitang linlangin...
Elaine. Hmm!
Cat. ...dahil natotohan kitang mahalin ng husto. Nalalaman kong hindi katanggap-tanggap at walang puwang sa isang relasyon ang pagtatago ng katotohanan at paglilihim ko ng tunay kong pagkatao. Nalalaman kong para na rin akong nagsisinungaling na hindi binunyag sa iyo ano talaga ako. Ngunit 'yon lang talaga ang inaakala kong tamang paraang h'wag mo lang akong lalayuan. Habang lumaon nang lumaon ay natotohan kitang mahalin ng lubos. Ngayon kung wala na talagang p'wang dian sa iyong puso at isipan ang unawain ako, tatanggapin kong ito na nga ang huli nating pagkikita. (Tatanawin ni Cat ang anino na bintana; maging si Elaine ay mapapatanaw din sa bintana) Maari ko ba siyang makita, mapagmasdan kahit sandali?
(Lalakad si Elaine, tutungohin ang pinto, maka-ilang hakbang bago niya lilingonin ng kapiraso si Cat. Bago mapasarhan ng pinto ay naihararang ni Cat ang kanyang katawan sa pinto. Susundan ni Cat si Elaine sa hagdan. Ilalapag ni Elaine ang kanyang dala-dalang gamit sa paanan ng nakasinding lampshade habang tutungohin ni Cat ang sanggol sa duyan. Ihahawak ni Cat ang kanyang mga kamay sa dalawang lubid na siyang pinagkabitan ng komot upang maging duyan. Unti-unting mapapaluhod si Cat upang mapagmasdan ang sanggol ng malapitan. Pagkatapos ng ilang sandali ay tatayo ito at tutungohin ang pinto ng silid upang lumabas at lumisan. Ngunit bago siya makalalabas ay aakap sa kanyang baywang si Elaine upang siya'y pigilan.)
Elaine. Dito ka na Cat, h'wag ka nang aalis.
(Dahan-dahang iikot si Cat upang harapin si Elaine saka ito yayakapin ng bigla at mahigpit. Isusubsob ni Elaine ang kanyang mukha sa dibdib ni Cat. Lalagitgit ng mahina ang duyan sa pag-unat ng sanggol ng kanyang katawan.
Cat. Si baby...
Elaine. ...Houriea.
Cat. Yan bang name n'ya?
Elaine. Oo.
Cat. Gandang name n'yan ah! May meaning? May hidden meaning?
Elaine. Oo, anghel.
Cat. Papanong...? (Saglit na maiisip ang kahulugan.) Aba o. Ayos ka ring mag-isip ng pangalan ha.
(Pareho nilang tutungohin ang duyan, isusubo ni Cat ang chopon na nasa tabi lamang nito sa duyan, pahahawakan sa dalawang kamay at sa pagpikit muli ng mga mata ng sanggol, magyayakap muli ang dalawa at maglalapat ang kanilang mga labi.)
(Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa bintana ng apartment at sa mga aninong aalun-alon sa kurtina.
Panahon: Kasalukuyan
Mga Tauhan:
Cat, isang college instructor sa isang colegio sa Mindanao at kasalukuyang graduate student ng isang unibersidad. Idad sa pagitan ng 35 at 45.
Elaine, isang Manilenya, graduating student ng unibersidad ding pinapasokan ni Cat.
Bibing, asawa ni Cat, may sakit na kanser.
Mat, isang law student ng unibersidad ding pinapasokan nina Elaine at Cat.
Propesor, isang Amerikanong propesor ng panitikan ng unibersidad ding pinapasukan ni Elaine at Cat.
Doktor, specialista sa kanser.
Aling Leny, nanay ni Elaine.
Xerox Clerk.
(Fade in ng camera sa salas ng apartment, magsisimula sa mga simpleng kagamitan tulad ng sala set na gawa sa kawayan, tutuloy ang tutok ng camera sa loob ng washing machine na kasalukyang umaandar. Balik ulit ang tutok ng camera sa salas at saka hihinto kay Cat na nasa harap ng computer. Patagilid ang tutok sa kanya ng camera at saka ibabaling ang camera sa monitor ng computer na nakabukas sa Encarta. Palipat-lipat ng paksa mula kay George Bernard Shaw na siyang may akda ng dulang Pygmalion at sa paksa ng colon cancer at kay Pygmalion na siyang may likha kay Galatea. Babasahin ni Cat ang paksang ito hanggang sa mabuo ang isang tanawin sa loob ng isipan ni Cat. Magkakaroon ng hugis ng isang babaeng (si Elaine) kasinlabo ng isang panaginip. Ilang sandali lilinaw ang tanawin ng bahagyang bahagya lamang at saka muling babalik sa ganap na kalaboan. Pagkatapos ay maglalaho ng tuloyan sa pagkakayanig ng monitor ng computer dahil sa pagvibrate ng kanyang cellphone na nasa ilalim ng monitor. Si Bibing, ang asawa ni Cat ang tumatawag.)
Cat. Hello Bing...Hindi pa...Baka sa isang Sabado...Oo, sa isang Sabadong darating...Oh, ikaw naman, may time pa ba ako n'yan...Sige ikaw…OO, sa Sabado, Sige ba-bye miss you Bing.
(Mag-aalas sais ng gabi, mag-aagaw ang dilim at liwanag. Tututok ang camera ng malayuan sa isang squatter area sa bahaging kanluran ng lungsod upang masulyapan ang pagkukulay kahil ang papawirin sa ibabaw ng mga barung-barong. Unti-unti, lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa dalampasigan ng isang Boulevard na nasa tabing dagat kung saan ang mga mumunting alon ay bigo sa kanilang pagpupumilit na doon sumabog sa mga pa ng mga taong naglalakad sa buhanginan. Tuloy ang tutok ng camera sa isang sinaunang gusali ng unibersidad na dating tirahan ng isang Amerikanong siyang nagtatag ng unibesidad na ngayo'y ginagamit na lamang ng pamantasan bilang anthropological museum. Babaybay ang tutok ng camera sa isang kalyeng punong acasia ang isang tabi, liliko ang tutok nito pakanan, papasok sa campus ng unibersidad. Saglit na tutok ng camera sa mga pigurang hugis i na siyang nagsasagisag ng pamantasan. Tutuloy ang tutok ng camera sa isa ring sinaunang gusali hanggang sa hahantong ang tutok ng camera sa isang silid-aralan nito kung saan papatapos ang pagkaklase ng Amerikano propesor.
Propesor. Before I let you go, secure copies of the next play Sakontala. (Magsisimulang maglabasan ang mga estudiante, sabay na tatayo sina Cat at Elaine.) Come back on Friday.
Elaine. Di ko pa type umuwi, maiinip lang ako sa boarding house.
Cat. Library na lang muna tayo, may oras pa.
Elaine. Anong gagawin natin doon? (Sabay na maglalakad ang dalawa papalabas ng silid at ng gusali.)
Cat. Di kukuha ng kopya ng Sakontala.
Elaine. Magpapakahirap ka pa...dian ka na kumuha sa mimeographer.
Cat. Ayoko doon, maraming mali.
Elaine. Wala akong gagawin sa boarding house.
Cat. Sumama ka na nga e, para mabasa mo ang play.
Elaine. Ito naman pahihirapan ko pang sarili ko e, electives ko lang naman ito. Maski pasang awa walang problema. Kodigo na lang ako o kaya kopya na lang ako sa'yo sa mga quizes at exams.
Cat. Ikaw, electives mo lang, e, ako?
Elaine. H'wag mo ngang pinag-iintindi ang mga ganyan. Du'n muna tayo.
(Sa isang Fastfood)
Elaine. Ngayon ko lang naitanong sa'yo to...
Cat. ...ano? Ang alin?
Elaine. Ba't ka ba inabot ng ganyang idad?
Cat. Buhay pa ako?
Elaine. Inabot ka ng ganyang idad, binata ka pa?
Cat. May nasabi ba ako sa iyo na binata ako?
Elaine. E, di may asawa ka?
Cat. Anong gagawin mo pagka-graduate mo?
Elaine. Ini-iba mo naman ang usapan e. Baka babalik ako rito.
Cat. Ano pang gagawin mo rito e, graduate ka na?
Elaine. Mag-M.A. din ako.
Cat. Baka hindi mo na ako gaanong makikita sa university next year.
Elaine. Ano?
Cat. Baka magsusulat na ako ng thesis ko.
Elaine. Ganun?
Cat. Oo, ganun. Pero babalik-balik pa naman ako rito. H'wag kang malulungkot sabi ko naman sa'yo babalik-balik din ako rito.
Elaine. Iba yong palagian tayong nagkikita. Kung saan-saan mo ako dinadala, sasabihin mo h'wag akong malungkot. Kahit ba may asawa ka o ano ka, malulungkot pa rin ako pag wala ka at hindi na kita gaanong nakikita.
Cat. Baka naman kaya ka malulungkot e dahil wala nang maglilibre sa'yo.
Elaine. Hindi Cat, bukod pa roon sa lagi mo akong nililibre, umibig na rin ako sa'yo maski pa malayo ang agwat ng idad mo sa'kin.
Cat. Dalian mo na kaya at uuwi ako ng maaga-aga. Babalik pa ako sa library bago ako uuwi, madami pa akong labahin.
Elaine. Maglalakad na naman tayo?
Cat. Oo, sasakay ka pa e ang lapit lapit lang. Sama ka na kasi sa layb?
(Sa anino ng mga punong acasia maglalakad ang dalawa. Tututok ang camera sa kanilang paglapit at paglagpas sa mga estudianteng nag-uumpokan sa kanilang daadan hanggang sa sapitin nilang dalawa ang pinto ng library. Saglit na ipapakita sa clerk ang kanilang mga I.D. saka tutuloy sa isang bakanteng computer para sa katalogo ng dulang hahanapin. May ilang sandaling uupo si Cat roon, nasa kanyang likuran si Elaine, makikitingin sa screen ng computer, nakahawak ang kamay sa sandalan ng upuan. Isusulat ni Cat sa kanyang palad ang katalogo saka tatayo.)
Cat. 'Lika na.
(Sabay na aakyat ang dalawa sa malawak na hagdanan patungong circulation section ng aklatan. Saglit na mawawala sa camera ang dalawa sa likod ng mga shelves roon. Balik ang tutok ng camera sa kanilang dalawa, close-up sa mga libro sa kanilang harapan habang lumalakad ang kanilang mga paningin sa katalogo ng mg libro at sa katalogong nakasulat sa palad ni Cat. Hihilahin ng kamay ni Cat ang libro, bubuksan at hahanapin ang dulang Sakontaa at pagkahanap lalabas ang dalawa papunta sa mga xerox machines. Papasyal-pasyal si Elaine sa mga naka-cabinet na mga librong bigay ng mga yuamaong may mga katungkulan sa unibersidad. Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa pila sa xrox kung saan naroroon si Cat.
Cat. Mula rito hanggang dito, tigalawa. (rirepasohin ng clerk ang mga pahinang tinutukoy at saka ito magsisimula. Naghihintay na si Elaine sa likuran ni Cat.)
Elaine. Tapos na? (Pagkalipas ng ilang minuto.)
Xerox Clerk. Heto na po, 38 pieces lahat, 19 pesos lang po ang babayaran n'yo. (Magbibilang ng bariya si Cat mula sa kanyang coin purse at i-aabot sa xerox clerk.)
(Muling maglalakad ang dalawa sa kanilang dinaanan kanina hanggang sa sapitin nila ang gate.)
Cat. Wala kang balak sumama?
Elaine. (Magkukunwari) Wala.
Cat. Baka gusto mong magbalak na dahil ako balak kong ikaw ang paglulutuin ko habang naglalaba ako.
Elaine. Sige na nga. Daan muna kaya tayo sa boarding house ko. Kukunin kong mga labahin ko, isasabay ko na rin. (Hihinto ang isang traisikel sa kanilang harapan. Tututok ang camera sa kanila pag-akyat at paglulan, aandar at mawawala ang traisikelpagliko sa isang kanto.)
Sa apartment ni Cat.
Elaine. Ikaw na kaya ang magluto Cat.
Cat. Ikaw na kaya lahat (Pabiro.) Babasahin ko na ang Sakontala. (Magbabago ang isip.) Hindi, ilagay mo na kaya ang labahin sa washing, sabawan mo, lagyan mo ng sabon, paandarin mo. Andian lang ang sabon. Ilabas mo na tuloy ang konting karne sa ref, babad mo para madaling mag-thaw.
Elaine. Ako na kaya lahat?
Cat. H'wag naman. Ako na ang magbaanlaw para di ka lugi.
Elaine. Hindi na, sige na, ako na lahat. (Sa pagkoconcentrate ni Cat sa kanyang pagbabasa, ilang sandaling hindi sila makaka-imik.) Di kaya para mo na akong asawa nito?
Cat. Anong asawa? Katulong. Pero parang ganun na nga siguro.
Elaine. Na ano...?
Cat. ...asawa.
Elaine. Akala ko katulong. Ang dami naman nitong labahan mo. Ilang linggo ka bang hindi nakapaglaba?
Cat. Dinagdag mo pa kasing labahin mo. (Tatayo si Cat, lalakad patungo kay Elaine na nakaharap sa washing machine.)
Elaine. (Magugulat sa biglang pagyakap sa kanya ni Cat, gagapang ang kanyang kamay sa puson ni Elaine) Akala ko ba paglalabahin mo ako (sabay ikot upang harapin si Cat.)
Cat. Mamaya na kaya yan.
Elaine. Papa'nong hapunan natin?
Cat. Padeliver na lang tayo. (Maglalapat ang kanilang mga labi, hahantong sa bed scene hanggang sa tutunog ang doorbell ng pinto sa pagdating ng pinadideliver na pagkain. Babangon si Cat, dali-daling magusuot ng short, tutungohin ang pinto, bubuksan at tatanggapin at magbabayad at saka isasarang muli ang pinto.)
Sa isang pier, pasado alas otso ng gabi
(Mangilan-ngilang tao ang naghihintay sa loob ng pier, hinihintay ang pagdaung ng barkong galing sa kabilang isla. Tatayo si Elaine sa may di kalayuan, nakatuon ang paningin sa barkong kasalukuyang minamaniobrang ididikit sa pantalan. Hahanapin ng paningin ni Elaine si Cat sa pila ng mga pasaherong nakaamba nang bumada. Atubiling kakaway si Elaine sa direksiyon ng isang pasaherong wari niya'y si Cat. Tutok ang camera kay Cat habang papalapit siya sa kinatatayuang ni Elaine.)
Elaine. Hoy!
Cat. Andian ka lang pala. (Sasabay sa paglalakad si Elaine.)
Elaine. Hindi mo naman kasi ako hinanap ng iyong paningin eh, parang hindi mo inaasahang sasalubong ako.
Cat. Nakakuha ka na ng kopya?
Elaine. Yan na kaagad ang pag-uusapan natin? Balitaan mo muna ako sa lakad mo.
Cat. Kailangan Len, pag hindi umabot ng 90 ang grade ko baka masipa ako sa university. Noong isang semester, baka akala mo, may isang subject na ako na hindi umabot ng 90 sa kakagimik natin.
Elaine. Walang sisihan naman, Cat.
Cat. Hindi kita sinisisi, kagagawan nating dalawa ito.
Elaine. Hindi mo ba ako pasasamahin sa apartment ngayon?
Cat. Ikaw.
Elaine. Anong ako?
Cat. Ikaw ang bahala kung sasama ka. Pero h'wag na mun kaya, pagod ako sa biyahe. Daan na lang tayo dian sa Expresso kain tayo ng haponan baka di ka pa kumakain. Miss din kasi kita kaya maski magkakagastos sa kakalibre ko sa'yo ok lang magkasama lang tayo kahit sandali.
Elaine. Ano nga, pagud ka? Pag sumama ba ako sa apartment mo ganun na kaagad. (Isisinyas ang interpretasyon ng ibig sabihin ng sinabing salita.)
Cat. E, anong malay ko ba sa iniisip mo ngayon.
Elaine. Iniisip na ano.
Cat. Wala, wala, kalimutan na yon.
(Sasapitin ng dalawa ang Expresso, uupo sa isang mesang pandalawahan na nasa isang tago na sulok. Lalapit ang isang waitress para kunin ang kanilang order.)
Elaine. Maganda bang lugar n'yo?
Cat. Kung sa ganda, syempre lugar ko yon maski pa hindi mo maihahambing sa Maynila mo ang lugar ko.
Elaine. Ba't ka nga ba umuwi?
Cat. Kailangan kong magpakita sa school ko from time to time, pinagrereport ako ng dean ko.
Elaine. Sa susunod na pasukan ba talagang wala ka na?
Cat. Ganito na lang Len, kung talagang balak mong mag M.A. mag enrol ka. Total sabi ko naman sa'yo pupunta-punta pa rin naman ako rito. May cellphone naman eh, text ka, text tayo. Magkakaalaman tayo kung kelan kita mapupuntahan.
Elaine. Hmm, text ako nang text sa'yo, di ka sumasagot. Panay ang miscall ko di o sinasagot hanggang sa naging unattended.
(Dadating ang waitress, saglit na papask sa tutok ng camera at muling mawawala paglapag sa mesa ng kanilang inorder na pagkain.)
Cat. Nasa bulsa ko lang kasi ang cellphone ko sa pantalon ko sa kwarto. Lobat nuong iwan ko hanggang sa nag-empty. Maiba tayo, yong apartment gusto mong saluhin, ikaw na ang tumira?
Elaine. Baka. Pag-iisipan ko pa. 'Di pa naman kasi buo ang loob ko kung babalik nga ako rito.
Cat. Dahil ba wala na ako next sem?
Elaine. Parang ganun na nga rin siguro.
Cat. Bukas makalawa puntahan natin ang may-ari sakaling makapag decide ka. Hanggang July pa ang bayad nun.
Elaine. Hindi mo ba talaga ako isasama ngayon?
Cat. Sige na, sama ka na kung gusto mong sumama. Oy, yong apartment baka 'kala mo may kalapitan ng konti sa sementerio yon ha.
Elaine. Ano namang kinalaman nuon?
Cat. E syempre doon ka titira kung sakasakali. Baka mamaya nadiskubre mo murahin mo pa ako ng di ko nalalaman, kesyo tumira ako malapit sa sementerio. Dali-an mo na kaya yang kinakain mo't gusto ko nang humilata talaga sa pagod.
Elaine. E, ba't doon ka ba tumira?
Cat. Walang makuhang iba e. (Sa waitress) Miss, chit namin.
Sa loob ng datin sild-aralan ng unibersidad, kasalukyang nagkaklase ang Amerikano propesor, Pygmalion ang dulang tinatalakay. Kagaya ng dati magkatabing naka-upo sina Cat at Elaine.
Propesor. We will be watching the move before we read the play. Just one trivial question, you have any idea why Bernard Shaw titled this play Pygmalion.
(Mahinang siniko ni Cat si Elaine, uutosang itaas ang kamay.)
Cat. (Pabulong) Taas mong kamay mo, isusulat ko rito ang isasagot mo.
Propesor. Yes, Miss Fuentez.
Elaine. Maybe...he modeled...his play...to the story...about Pygmalion...that fellow who...carved an ivory...into a a statue...of a beautiful...woman and the...statue became a...real woman, beautiful.
Propesor. You reading something?
Elaine. Yeah, I wrote down here first what I want to say. (Itataas ang kopya ng dula kung saan sinulat ni Cat ang kanyang isasagot.)
Propesor. Alright. (Sa buong klase) After we watch the movie and after we read the play, we will see how true this lady's answer is. (Magiging abala ang Propesor sa tv at cd player upang masimula'ng ipalabas ang sine. Uupo sa isang sulok ang Propesor malayo kena Cat at Elaine. Iba ang pagkaka-abalahan ni Cat at Elaine, mag-uusap sa pamamagitan ng pagsusulat ng kanilang mga salita sa kopya ng dulang tinatalakay. Tutok ang caera sa kamay ni Elaine na nagsusulat ng kanyang sasabihin kay Cat. Kakalabitin niya si Cat para mapansin ang kanyang sinulat doon.)
Elaine. (3days na.)
Cat. (Anong 3days)
Elaine. (3days na akong delayed)
(Lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa nababahalang mukha ni Cat ilang sandali bago sundan ng camera ang kanyang kamay na susulat ng kanyang isasagot.)
Cat. (Ano?)
(Steady ang camera sa kopya ng dula, papalit-palit ang kamay nina Cat at Elaine sa pagsusulat.)
Elaine. (Papa'no kung buntis ako?)
Cat. (Sana hindi, sana delayed lang.)
Elaine. (Sana nga. 'Di ka ba matutuwa kung saka-sakali?)
Cat. (Did we want na magbuntis ka?)
Elaine. (Syempre hindi, pero we both knew na yon ang maging consequence. Teka nga muna, bakit ba ganyan ang sagot mo?)
Cat. (Wala akong ibig sabihin, pero sana hindi muna ngayon.)
Elaine. (E, papa'no nga kung nandito na 'to?)
Cat. (Sa panahon pa kasing maglalayo tayo, saka naman 'andian yan.)
Elaine. ('Di h'wag kang aalis, h'wag mo akong iwan.)
(Ilang sandaling mapapatigil ang kamay ni Cat sa kopya ng dula na walang naisulat. Tutok ng camera sa balisang mukha ni Cat, lipat kay Elaine at sa buong silid-aralan at saka muling babalik kay Cat na nasa kopya pa rin ng dula ang kamay, hawak ang ballpen.)
Cat. (Usap tayo mamaya.)
(Babaling ang camera sa buong silid-aralan, sa TV, hanggang sa magwakas ang palabas. Tutunog ang higanteng kalembang ng unibersidad hudyat ng pagtatapos ng klase. Magtatayuan ang mga estudiante, camera kay Elaine na nauang tumayo at saglit na maghihintay sa may pintuan. Mabigat ang katawan ni Cat na tatayo, wala interes makarating sa kinatatayuan ni Elaine at sa ano pang salitang nalalabing sabihin sa kanya ni Elaine.)
Elaine. Ano? Papa'no?
Cat. Anong ano? Anong papa'no? Sabi ko naman mapag-uusapan din natin yan.
Elaine. Sa totoo lang Cat, walang problema sa'kin pag-uusapan pa natin 'to o hindi.
Cat. Wala akong sinasabing ganun. (Lalakad ang dalawa papalabas ng silid-aralan. Susundan sila ng tutok ng camera hanggang sa sila ay makarating sa gate papalabas ng campus.) Ganun man ang naging reaction ko, wala akong ibig sabihing iba, nabigla lang ako, dumarating pati ang finals.
(Magka-ibang traisikel ang kanilang masasakyan, mauunang makakasakay si Cat. Susundan siya ng tingin ni Elaine ngunit bigo siya sa kanyang inaasahang lilingunin siya ni Cat.)
Sa clinic ng isang doktor sa loob ng isang ospital.
Cat. Dok, good morning.
Doktor. Good morning. Matagal n'yo na bang napansin ito?
Cat. Walang binabanggit sa'kin ang misis ko Dok maliban noong nagsimula na siyang mahirapang dumumi.
Doktor. Ganito na lang, (ikakatok ng Doktor ang kanyang kamao ng pataob sa ibabaw ng kanyang mesa) h'wag naman sana.
Cat. Papa'nong mga ganung kaso Dok, nakukuha pa ba sa opera ang ganito?
Doktor. Kung ako, hindio ako magrerekomenda sa'yo ng opera. Ayokong lalabas na gusto lamang kitang kwartahan. Hangga't maari ayokong nagkakagasto ang mga patiente ko. Hindi solusyon ang operasyon sa ganitong karamdaman. Masisira lang ang quality of life sa nalalabing mga araw ng iyong asawa kung iyon man 'yong hinala ko.
Cat. Masisirang papa'no Dok?
Doktor. Once na na-opera ang misis mo, ang sabi mo hirap siyang dumumi, which means nandian lang sa large intestine o baka 'andian mismo sa kanyang tumbong nagsimulang tumubo ang sakit n'ya. Once na na-opera ang misis mo, magdadala siya sa kanyang baywang for the rest of the remaining days of her life ng colostomy bag. Pati ikaw, madadagdagan ang iyong paghihirap dahil natural walang ibang magtatapon ng laman ng colostomy bag pag napupuno kundi ikaw.
Cat. Colostomy bag Dok?
Doktor. Yon yong paglalagyan ng dumi ng misis mo dahil doon na mapuupunta ang dumi ng misis mo pag naoperahan siya.
Cat. Ganun po ba yon?
Doktor. Sa opera baka iikli lang ang buhay ng misis mo. Baka duon mismo sa operating table madigrasya ang misis mo. Or maari siyang ma-ICU, pagkatapos ng operasyon. Baka akala mo magkano per day sa ICU, mura na yong P7,500 baka isang milyon kukulangin. At kung halimbawa magiging successful ang operasion natural pupunta punta ka pa rin dito, magpapakemo ng misis mo dahil useless ang opera kung di mo ipapakemo. Laking abala sa'yo yon, sa inyong dalawa, lalo na sa kanya dahil siya yong may sakit.
Cat. Ganun ba yon Dok?
Doktor. Oo ganun yon.
Cat. Dok, salamat.
Sa Apartment ni Cat.
Elaine. Ano nga bang tunay na dahilan bakit hindi mo ako pinapunta rito noong isang linggo?
Cat. 'Di ba sabi ko sa'yo magpafinals na; nang makapconcentrate naman tayo. Baka masipa nga ako sa university.
Elaine. Alam mo Cat, wala namang problema sa akin pakikisamahan mo man ako o hindi, pananagutan mo man itong dinadala ko o hindi. Ano ba, ganun ka ba talaga?
Cat. Na ano?
Elaine. Na kung sinu-sinong babae ang dinadala mo rito.
Cat. Babae?
Elaine. Oo, babae.
Cat. Ano bang pinagsasabi mo? (Flashback noong mga sandaling nasa apartment si Bibing, pagkagaling makunan ng tissue sample sa isang clinic)
Elaine. Maang-maangan ka lang. E, ano ba yong natuyong dugo roon sa upuan ng inuduro? Ganun ka ba talaga? Likas ba sa'yo ang pagkababaero mo at isa lamang ako sa naging babae mo?
Cat. Ipagpalagay na natin na babae ko yon, at isa ka sa naging babae ko, sino bang nagpasimula ng lahat na ito, di ba ikaw?
Elaine. Ang alin, itong relasyon natin?
Cat. Oo, itong relasyon natin.
Elaine. Pap'ano naging ako?
Cat. Di ba doon ka umuupo sa gitna ng tatlong bakanteng upuan sa pinakalikod para tiyak na makakatabi mo ako ng upo sa kaliwa man o sa kanan ako uupo?
Elaine. At bakit parang sinasadyang mong lagi kang nali-late sa subject na 'yon?
(Mawawala ang tono ng pag-aaway pagkatapos ng ilang saglit na katahimikan.)
Cat. Kapwa lang tayo dumidiskarte Len.
Elaine. Papano 'to? (Ihahawak ni Elaine ang isang kamay sa kanyang puson.)
Cat. (Bahagyang ngingiti.) Akala ko ba walang problema sa iyo pananagutan ko man yan o hindi.
Elaine. Pinuproblema ko na ngayon.
Cat. Sabi ko naman sa'yo mapag-uusapan din natin yan. Di pa naman halata eh. Oy, baka Martes pa lang next week uuwi na ako.
Elaine. Papa'nong exams mo?
Cat. Pinakiusapan ko na lahat ng propesor ko. Pati yong sa atin, through email na lang ang submission pati paper requirements. Martes ng umaga ko makukuha ang test question sa subject natin. Kinahaponan sasakay na ako pauwi ng amin. Kelangan kong makapagreport kinabukasan.
Elaine. Xerox mo ako ng test question
Cat. Oo, ikaw pa, yang mandaraya mong yan. Pero iba ang magiging questions sigurao ninyo. Pero di bale, xerox pa rin kita.
Elaine. Kailan ka makakabalik rito?
Cat. Baka sa enrolment na next year, ewan ko di ko matiyak.
Elaine. May ii-enrol ka pa?
Cat. Oo mayroon pa, thesis writing. Pero makapag-enrol lang ako kung wala akong bagsak nagyong sem na ito. May bagsak na akong isa noong nakaraang sem. Di naman bagsak actually, di lang uimabot sa standard pero parang bagsak na rin. Depende sa sasabihin ng department chairman. Ang hirap pa naman kausap noon, ang sungit, palibhasa matandang dalaga. Ikaw papa'no ka? Tiyakin mong makapag-enrol next year ha.
Elaine. Mag-law na lang kaya ako.
Cat. Ganito na lang, magenrol ka na next year, law o M.A. total may babalikan pa naman ako rito kahit pap'ano. 'Di ko lang matiyak kung pag-ienrolin nga ako. Syempre, natural, sasaluhin mo 'kamo itong apartment, alam ko saan kita pupuntahan. Yan ay kung talagang decidido kang mag-law o mag-M.A. At kung interesado ka pa na magkita tayo.
Elaine. Kaya ko nga binalak ang ganun para magkita pa rin tayo dahil pananagutin kita nito (ituturo ni Nicole ang kanyang kamay)
Cat. Oo, pananagutan ko yan, hindi kita lalayasan. Pahawak. (ililigid ni Cat angkanyang kamay sa tiyan ni Elaine ng pahaplos. Wala pa naman ah, (Lilipat sa bandang ibaba ang kanyang kamay.) Ito, laging nandito. Padeliver na lang tayo ng hapunan?
Elaine. Ikaw? Teka nga muna, ano muna yong tanong ko kanina, sagutin mo --- yong nasa iniduro. (Sa halip na sagutin ang tanong ay inilapat ang kanayang mga labi sa mga labi ni Elaine hanggang sa humantong sila natatanging gawain ng magsing-irog na ang minsan ay hindi sapat.)
Sa bahay ni Cat, pasado alas 5 ng hapon
(Maghihintay sa labas ang kanyang asawang si Bibing. Pagkatanaw na dumarating si Cat, papasok naman sa loob, sa salas, ang kanyang asawa at pagkabukas ng pinto sa pagpasok ni Cat, titingin si Bibing sa mga mata ni Cat at saka iiling, tatayo at papasok sa kanilang silid. Ilalapag ni Cat sa sofa ang mga dala-dalang mga bag, hahayaang manatili sa lapag ng sahig ang ang mga kahong pinaglagyan ng mga bahagi ng kanyang computer. Tamlay na maghuhubad ng sapatos si Cat, isisilid ang midyas sa sapatos at saka itutulak sa ilalim ng sofa. Pabagsak na isasandal ni Cat ang kanyang likod sa sandalan ng sofa, pag-abutin ang dalawang kamay sa likod ng batok at hindi malaman saan itutuon ang paningin, mapapabuntong hininga at iiling. Paglipas ang ilang sandali ay tatayo siya, tutungohin ang pinto ng kanilang silid, pipihit ang kanyang kamay sa door knob, papasok at dahan-dahang isasara na waring hindi ibig makalikha ng ingay.)
(Tatabi ng higa si Cat kay Bibing, tututok ang camera sa naglalaliman nitong mga pisngi. Urong ang tutok ng camera kay Bibing na nakaduster lamang atsaka unti-unting lilipat ang tutok ng camera sa mga binteng wala na ring lusog. Susuklayin ni Cat ang buhok ni Bibing ng kanyang palad mula noo pataas at pagkatapos ay pauunanin ni Cat ang ulo ng asawa sa kanyang kaliwang bisig habang idadagan ng pigil ang bigat ang kanang hita sa bandang tuhod ng kanyang asawa.
Bibing. Ano daw ba ang sakit ko Cat? (Tutok ng camera ng malapitan kay Cat na balisang hindi malaman ang isasagot. Lipat ang tutok ng camera pagkaraan ng ilang sandali sa imahe ng Divine Mercy na nakalagak sa isang mesetang ginawa ni Bibing na parang altar sa paanan ng kanilang higaan. Balik ang tutok ng camera sa mukha ni Cat at pagkatapos ay sa kanilang dalawa. Saglit na ilalapat ni Cat ang kanyang labi sa mga labi ng asawa lilipat ang kanyang halik sa bandang sulok ng mata at pagkatapos ay sa noo.) H'wag mo na lang kayang sabihin Cat, h'wag na rin nating pag-usapan.
Cat. (Mapapabuntong-hininga.) Mas mabuti pa nga siguro. Pero kung anong paniniwalaan ko na makakabuti sa iyo, paniwalaan mo rin. Ito may nirecita ang doktor. (Agad tutok ng camera sa hawak ni Cat nakapaketeng parang shampoo na ang tatak ay Fibrosine.)
Bibing. Ano daw ba yan?
Cat. Tutunawingdaw ito e, tapos iinumin mo. Sandali ha. (Iiwanan sandali ni Cat ang asawa tutungohin ang refrigerator, kukuha ng tubig gugupitin ana paketeng hawak na "gamot" isasalin sa bao, bubuhosan ng tubig, hahaluin ng kutsarita at saka lalakad balik sa kanilang silid.) Inumin mo ito ha.
Bibing. Ano daw ba yan?
Cat. Gamot nga daw e.
Bibing. Iinumin ko yan pero mangako ka munang hindi mo na muna ako iiwan; h'wag ka na munang babalik sa university mo.
Cat. Ano? Papa'no na ang pagtuturo ko n'yan? Tinataningan ako, kaming lahat na wala pang M.A. tinataningan kami ng dalawang taon para makuha ang M.A. namin. Kung hindi, pag-reresignin kami sa trabaho.
Bibing. Tinatangan ka ba? Papa'no ako kung may taning na rin ako. Kahit man lamang sa mga huling araw ng aking buhay gusto ko 'andian ka lang sa aking tabi.
Cat. Papa'nong trabaho ko?
Bibing. Mabuti ka nga trabaho mo lang ang pinoproblema mo. E, ako, kalusugan ko at buhay ko ang pinoproblema ko.
Cat. Bing, sweetheart,'kala ko ba'y hindi natin pag-uusapan ang kalagayan mo at karamdaman mo?
Bibing. Kaya nga e, paki-usapan mo ang dean mo, total nasa thesis writing kana 'kamo. Kung gusto mo banggitin mo sa kanila ang karamdaman ko. Papayag yan Cat, alam ko. Hahabain nila ang palugit nila sa M.A. mo.
Cat. O sige, sige, kakausapin ko bukas. Pero teka muna, baka ini-isip mong pag-leavin ako, hindi puede ha.
Bibing. Wala akong sinasabing ganun. Basta't nandito ka lang sa bahay tama na sa'kin yon.
Sa pila ng enrolment
(Nasa bandang gitna sa pila si Elaine, nasa kanyang likuran si Mat, dudukot ng cellphone sa kanyang bulsa a mag-titext.)
(Gagala ang aningin ni Elaine sa paligid, sa pier at sa mga barkong nakadaung doon na waring pinapangarap si Cat. Babalik ang kanyang paningin sa counter ng tanggapan ng registrar at muli sa paligid hanggang sa mapalingon siya kay Mat. Saglit na magsasalubong ang kanilang paningin. Ilang sandaling pag-aatubili ang lilipas bago magkaroon ng lakas ng loob si Mat na kausapin si Elaine.)
Mat. Hi
Elaine. Hi.
Mat. Puedeng makitext sa cell mo? Naubosan ako ng load e. Nasa bangko kasing kapatid ko, aapurahin ko lang. Kulang kasing pera ko, baka makarating na tayo sa counter nakakahiya. Pumila na kasi ako agad habang naghihintay ako sa brother ko.
Elaine. Ok, pero isa lang ha, wala na rin kasi akong load.
Mat. (Tutok ng camera kay Mat, malapitan sa cellphone pero hindi ipapakita ang sinusulat sa screen. Ilang sandali, isosoi ni Mat ang cellphone kay Elaine.) Thanks ha, malapit-lapit na tayo. Salamat uli ha.
Elaine. Ok. Nandito pa ang message mo?
Mat. Dinelete ko na. Thanks ulit ha.
Elaine. Ok.
Sa isang publikong sementerio
(Tutungohin ni Cat ang isang bagong nitso sa bandang looban ng libingan. Palipat-lipat siya ng tapak sa mga nitsong patung-patong ng walang kaayusan bago niya marating ang nitsong sadya.)
(Nakalaylay sa kanyang balikat ang isang travel bag na busog sa laman. Sa kanyang kamay, magkasamang hinahawakan ang tatlong pirasong ga-daliri sa laking mga kandila at isang bigkis ng bulaklak ng santan na sari-sari ang kulay na nakalagay sa boteng dating pinaglagyan ng mayonaise.)
(Tutok ng camera sa tinutungong nitsong malapit nang marating. Sandaling close-up sa larawan ng kanyang yumaong asawa na nasa ibabaw ng nitso. Ilalapag ni Cat sa nitso ang hawak niyang kandila at bulaklak at pagkatapos ay ititirik at sisindihan ang kandila sa tabi ng mga bulaklak. Bubulong si Cat ng ilang kataga ng panalangin at pagkatapos ay kukunin ang larawan ni Bibing na ngayo'y nagsisimulang nang kumupas.)
(May ilang sandali pa bago tatalikuran ni Cat ang nitso at pagkatapos ay muli niyang tatahakin ang kanyang dinaanan kanina. Sa kanyang pagdating sa may labasan ng sementerio, isang bus ang dumarating, paparahin at lululan. Tutok ng camera sa kanyang pag-akyat sa estrebo hanggang sa ang likuran na lamang ng bus ang makikita ng camera.)
Sa aparment ni Cat na ngayo'y si Elaine na ang nagungupahan.
(Tutunog ang cellphone ni Elaine sa pagdating ng isang text. Bigla ang tutok ng camera sa screen ng cellphone. Walang mensahe kundi "hi.")
Elaine. (Sa kanyang sarili.) Sino kaya ito? (Iiyak ang isang sanggol kung saan pansamantalang mababaling ang kanyang atensiyon.) Nay, kayo na nga po muna ang magpatahan kay baby, sasagutin ko lang po itong dumating na text.
Aling Leny. Ano na naman ba yang teksteks na yan? Baka lalaki na naman yan, madala ka na, puede ba.
Elaine. Hindi po. Lalaki nga po pero tungkol po sa school ito, kaklase ko po.
Aling Leny. Siguraduhin mo lang, baka disgrasia na naman ang abutin mo dian.
Elaine. Opo, hindi po.
(Camera kay Mat na nasa loob ng isang internet cafe at sa nayayanig na screen ng computer sa padating ng isang text message. Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa cellphone na nasa tabi ng keyboard. Tuloy ang tutok ng camera, close up sa screen nito at sa nai-type nang mensahe: SA PILA NG ENROLMENT, REMEMBER? NAKIGAMIT AKO NG CELL MO.)
(Camera kay Elaine na ngayong nakahiga katabi ang kanyang natutulog na sanggol habang nagbabasa ng librong kulay itim na kadalasang pabalat ng mga libro ng mga estudiante ng abugasiya. Bahagya siyang magugulat sa pag-vibrate ng kanyang cellphone na nasa bulsa ng kanyang short. Dudukotin ni Elaine ang cellphone, babasahin ang dumating na text at magtatype ng sagot.)
(Camera kay Mat na naka ambang itutulak ang pinto ng internet cafe, babasahin ang text na dumaing at idadial ang number ni Elaine.)
(Camera kay Elaine, tatayo mula sa pagkakahiga, lalakad patungong banyo at doon sasagotin ang tawag upang h'wag marinig ng kanyang ina. Hati ang screen, sa isang bahagi si Elaine at sa isa ay si Mat.
Elaine. Hello!
Mat. Busy ka yata at pinatawag mo ako.
Elaine. Oo, inestorbo mo nga ako. Tamad pati ako magtext sa hindi kakilala.
Mat. Musta?
Elaine. Ba't mo ba ako kinukomusta eh hindi nga tayo magkakilala.
Mat. Ganun?
Elaine. Di kinuha mo pala sa cell ng kapatid mo ang numero ko?
Mat. (Magkikibit-balikat, mapagkunwari ang pagsagot.) Oo, kinuha ko. May time ka?
Elaine. Na ano?
Mat. Yayayain sana kita. sa Jolibee lang tayo o kaya sa Chow King.
Elaine. Naku ha! Ni hindi ko gaanong namukhaan ang 'itsura mo, magyayaya ka. Ang ibig mong sabihin magtitiwala ako sa iyo agad.
Mat. At least naman siguro pag nakita mo ako ulit maalala mong 'itsura ng pagmumukha kong ito. At saka ano namang kalapastanganang magagawa ko sa iyo sa mga ganung lugar.
Elaine. O sige, sige. Magaling ka rin lang mangatwiran, na intriga rin lang ako sa pagkatao mo at sa lakas ng loob mo, sige, puede ako. Pero mamaya pa between 2:30 and 3 ako puede bago ako tutuloy sa klase ko.
Mat. 2:30? Ligaw Intsek daw ang ganyang oras ah.
Elaine. Lumiligaw ka na ba sa lagay na yan?
Mat. Hindi pa naman. Ganun ang sabi eh, ligaw Intsek daw kapag ganung oras.
Elaine. Kung ayaw mo ng ganung oras, di h'wag mo.
(Camera kina Elaine at Mat na nasa loob ng Jollibee sa isang pangdalawahang upuan. Sa salamin lamang sila nakikita ngunit, maririnig na ang kanilang pag-uusap.)
Elaine. Belib din naman ako sa lakas ng loob mo.
Mat. Alin yong naglakas-loob akong makigamit ng cell mo gayong hindi naman tayo magkakiala
Elaine. Hmm.
Mat. Natural lang siguro kahit kanino nangyari ang ganun. Kapag ganung kelangang-kelangan, wala nang hiya-hiya pa siguro. Kung aalis pa ako nun sa pila para bumili ng load, masasayang ang itinayo ko roon ng pagkatagal-tagal.
(Ngayo'y malapitan ang tutok ng camera sa kanila dalawa.)
Elaine. Di kinuha mo sa cell ng kapatid mo ang numero ko?
Mat. Parang ganun. Ang totoo ay...
Elaine. ...anong totoo?
Mat. Hindi.
Elaine. Hindi! Ano nga ang totoo?
Mat. Ganun nga.
Elaine. Ano nga?
Mat. Na kinuha ko sa cellphone ng kapatid ko ang numero mo.
Elaine. May duda ako sa sagot mo, tandaan mo?
Mat. Di ako sanay na pinagduduhan ang salita ko.
Elaine. Hindi rin ako sanay na pinaglololoko ako. Baka nagbabalak kang lumigaw, dumiskarke ka lang ng maayos. Yong hindi mo ako sinisilid sa bulsa mo. Yong paniniwalain mo ako ng kung anu-ano. hindi puede sa akin ang ganun.
Mat. Galit ka na n'yan?
Elaine. Wala namang problema sa iyo o sa akin magalit man ako o matuwa ako sa iyo dahil we are strangers, we don't know each other.
Mat. Then let's know each other. Name ko ay Mat -- Mat Ronquillo. Bago ka ba sa university?
Elaine. Sa law first year ko pa ngayon, pero dito ako graduate ng A.B. ko noong isa pang taon.
Mat. Kaya pala parang noon lang kita nakita. Una lang ako sa iyo ng isang taon. Sa ibang university ako graduate ng college -- sa Mindanao. (Maaalala ni Elaine si Cat. May ilang saglit bago magpatuloy ang kanilang pag-uusap.) Bakt?
Elaine. Wala, wala. Sa'n sa Mindanao?
Mat. Sa Xavier sa Cagayan.
Elaine. Dito rin (ituturo ang dagat) sa dagat na ito tumatawid papuntang inyo?
Mat. Oo,
Elaine. Dian? (Sa tonong ibig makatiyak.)
Mat. Puede pero malayo pa ang bibyahiin, walong oras pa. Mayroon direct Cagayan galing Maynila kaya lang tuwing Biernes lang. Ikaw, taga saan ka?
Elaine. Taga Maynila ako.
Mat. E, bakit dito ka nag-college at dito ka nag-law, ang daming university doon.
Elaine. Taga rito ang Mama ko pero andun sila pareho sa Maynila ng Papa ko, umuwi lang ako roon pag bakasyon. Oy, mag-aalas kwatro na, papasok na ako.
Mat. Sabay na tayo.
Elaine. E, di dalian mo na.
Mat. Mahaba-haba pa ang oras ah, at saka ang lapit lang ng school. Sandali na lang 'to, uubosin ko lang 'tong drinks ko. (Pagkatapos ng ilang sandaling pag-aatubili.) Alam mo talaga, yon lang ang naisip kong paraan para makuha ko ang numero mo. sarili kong cell ang tinext ko nung humiram ako ng cell mo. Alam ko bulok na ang style na yon, wala lang talaga akong maisip na ibang paraan.
Elaine. Di nagtapat ka rin.
Mat. Kanina ko pa sana gustong bumigay kaya lang mainit p'ang dugo mo. Baka awayin mo ako, baka pagalitan mo ako, magmukha akong tangah. Sorry, ha, masyado akong pangahas.
Elaine. Talagang mainit ang dugo ko kapag ganun. Pero okay lang, okay na. At least nagsabi ka ng katotohanan. Baka mag-attempt kang manligaw ha, magsasayang ka lang ng oras mo. Halika na't mali-late na ako. Sumabay ka na kung gusto mo.
Sa Department of English and Literature ng unibersidad.
(Manggagaling si Cat sa tanggapan ng Department of English and Literature. Pagkatapos na isa-isang titi'gnan ang kanyang mga classcards noong huli niyang sem sa unibersidan, i-titiklop niya ang mga ito at isisilid sa kanyang bulsa sa likod ng kanyang pantalon. Lalakad siyang papalabas ng tanggapan at sa gusaling Katipunan Hall patungong gate papalabas ng campus. Babaybayin si Cat sa kalye labas na ng campus hanggang sa matanaw niya sa tapat ng gusaling Villareal Hall kung saan nadoon ang Law School ng unibersidad. Tiempo naman papasok sa isa pang gate roon sina Elaine at Mat.)
Mat. Nasa room 321 ako, third floor.
Elaine. (Walang salitang lalabas sa kanyang bibig kundi kibit-balikat.)
(Magmamadaling lalakad si Cat upang mahabol at abutan si Elaine bago ito makapasok sa kanyang klase.)
Cat. Len, sandali.
Elaine. Hmm, buhay ka pa pala!
Cat. Komusta ka na?
Elaine. Ok ka rin ano, kinumusta mo ako. (Napa-iling iling sa galit si Elaine na tititig kay Cat.) Nasaan ba ang mga pangungumusta mong yan, nasaan ba ang mga pangungumusta mong yan noong kailangan kita, nuong kailangang kailangan kita?
Cat. Ewan ko kung uunawain mo ako. Ewan ko kung mauunawaan mo ako.
Elaine. Wala akong dapat unawain sa'yo. 'Etong cellphone ko (Ipamumukha ni Elaine ang kanyang cellphone kay Cat na halos isungalngal na sa bunganga ni Cat.) nagtext ka man lang ba? Hindi! putang ina mo! Halos gusto kong ihampas sa pader itong cellphone kong ito. Kung tinamad kang magtext, tumawag ka man lang sana; nagmiscall ka man lang sana. Ako na ang nagmiscall, unattended ka, pinagtaguan mo ako, buwisit kang putang ina mo ka!
Cat. "Yon nga ang gusto kong ipaliwanag sa iyo at ibig kong unawain mo. Naibenta kong cellphone ka dahil pinang-gastos ko sa sakit ng asawa...
Elaine. Ayon, may asawa ka pala, nagsalita ka rin ng diretsahan na may awawa ka. (Mawawala ang galit ng bahagya) Kung sabagay, sa isang banda, kasalanan ko rin. Hindi ko binusisi ng husto ang pagkatao mo bago ako lubusang nagtiwala sa iyo. Pero hindi 'yon, wala na 'yon. Sana man lamang doon mo ako kinumusta bago mo tuloyang ibinenta ang cellphone mo kahit may asawa kang tao.
Cat. Sino 'yon, 'yong kasama mo?
Elaine. Mas nakabubuti para sa ating h'wag na nating intindihin sinong mga nakakasama natin sa kalye man o saan?
Cat. Ang apartment
Elaine. Binitawan mo na yon, h'wag mo nang pakialaman 'yon. Sa tagal mo ba namang walang communication, unaasa ka pang ikaw pa rin ang ituturing na tenant doon. Sige, papasok na ako. (Aambang lalakad si Elaine; hahadlang si Cat.)
Cat. Kita naman tayo ulit.
Elaine. Kung magkikita pa tayo ng sadya, magtatagpo sa isang lugar tulad ng dati, hindi na puede yon. H'wag mo nang asahan. At kung inaasahan mong kakausapin pa kita tulad nito pag nakikita mo ako sa campus, utang na loob, h'wag mo akong ina-abangabangan pa. Paraanin mo ako't mahuhuli na ako sa klase ko.
Sa apartment na ngayo'y si Elaine na ang nakatira.
(Alas Otso pasado ng gabi, liligid ang camera sa paligid ng apartment, unti-unti itong tututok ng malapitan sa bintana ng silid ni Elaine na nakakurtina ng puting tetoron. Kasalukuyang nakasindi ang ilaw. Maririnig ng mahina ang lagitgit ng duyang kawayan na patigil na ang ugoy. mamatay ang ilaw sa kisame, saglit na didilim atsaka papalit ang ilaw ng simpleng lampshade na nasa isang sulok ng silid. Mag-iiba ang kulay ng kurtina sa pagpalit ng liwanag mula sa flourescent tungo sa bombilyang de-kinse ng lampshade. Aalun-alon ang anino ng duyan sa puting kurtina habang ini-ihip-ihipan ng hangin ng bentilador sa isa pang sulok ng silid.)
(Lipat ang tutok ng camera kay Cat na nakamasid sa tanawing iyon sa labas ng apartment. Unti-unting close up sa kanyang mukha ng patagilid habang tinatanaw ang bintana hanggang sa mababaling ang kanyang paningin sa paghinto ng isang traisikel di kalayuan sa kanyang kinatatayuan. Bababa si Elaine, maiiwang lulan si Mat, lilingonin ni Elaine ang traisikel pag-alis nito.)
Cat. Sandali naman Len. (Tangkang hindi papansinin ni Elaine si Cat. Patuloy ito sa paglalakad, hahadlang si Cat.) Bigyan mo lang ako ng pagkakataong magpaliwanag. Ito, itong pagkakataong ito; itong sandaling ito. Hayaan mo naman sana akong makapagpaliwanag at pagkatapos ay hinding hindi mo ako makikita pang muli. Hindi ako maaring naroroon sa dalawang lugar sa isang pagkakataon. At kung hindi ko nagawang magsalita ng diretsahan kung 'yon man ang naging problema ko sa'yo -- ang tungkol sa pagkatao ko, yon ay dahil ayokong lalayo ka, ayokong mawala ka sa akin. Hindi sa gusto kitang linlangin...
Elaine. Hmm!
Cat. ...dahil natotohan kitang mahalin ng husto. Nalalaman kong hindi katanggap-tanggap at walang puwang sa isang relasyon ang pagtatago ng katotohanan at paglilihim ko ng tunay kong pagkatao. Nalalaman kong para na rin akong nagsisinungaling na hindi binunyag sa iyo ano talaga ako. Ngunit 'yon lang talaga ang inaakala kong tamang paraang h'wag mo lang akong lalayuan. Habang lumaon nang lumaon ay natotohan kitang mahalin ng lubos. Ngayon kung wala na talagang p'wang dian sa iyong puso at isipan ang unawain ako, tatanggapin kong ito na nga ang huli nating pagkikita. (Tatanawin ni Cat ang anino na bintana; maging si Elaine ay mapapatanaw din sa bintana) Maari ko ba siyang makita, mapagmasdan kahit sandali?
(Lalakad si Elaine, tutungohin ang pinto, maka-ilang hakbang bago niya lilingonin ng kapiraso si Cat. Bago mapasarhan ng pinto ay naihararang ni Cat ang kanyang katawan sa pinto. Susundan ni Cat si Elaine sa hagdan. Ilalapag ni Elaine ang kanyang dala-dalang gamit sa paanan ng nakasinding lampshade habang tutungohin ni Cat ang sanggol sa duyan. Ihahawak ni Cat ang kanyang mga kamay sa dalawang lubid na siyang pinagkabitan ng komot upang maging duyan. Unti-unting mapapaluhod si Cat upang mapagmasdan ang sanggol ng malapitan. Pagkatapos ng ilang sandali ay tatayo ito at tutungohin ang pinto ng silid upang lumabas at lumisan. Ngunit bago siya makalalabas ay aakap sa kanyang baywang si Elaine upang siya'y pigilan.)
Elaine. Dito ka na Cat, h'wag ka nang aalis.
(Dahan-dahang iikot si Cat upang harapin si Elaine saka ito yayakapin ng bigla at mahigpit. Isusubsob ni Elaine ang kanyang mukha sa dibdib ni Cat. Lalagitgit ng mahina ang duyan sa pag-unat ng sanggol ng kanyang katawan.
Cat. Si baby...
Elaine. ...Houriea.
Cat. Yan bang name n'ya?
Elaine. Oo.
Cat. Gandang name n'yan ah! May meaning? May hidden meaning?
Elaine. Oo, anghel.
Cat. Papanong...? (Saglit na maiisip ang kahulugan.) Aba o. Ayos ka ring mag-isip ng pangalan ha.
(Pareho nilang tutungohin ang duyan, isusubo ni Cat ang chopon na nasa tabi lamang nito sa duyan, pahahawakan sa dalawang kamay at sa pagpikit muli ng mga mata ng sanggol, magyayakap muli ang dalawa at maglalapat ang kanilang mga labi.)
(Lipat ang tutok ng camera sa bintana ng apartment at sa mga aninong aalun-alon sa kurtina.
Friday, July 30, 2010
FAIR FOR FEAR
The jeepney stopped; he got off first. She took his hand as she stepped her shoes on the rung and the pavement. In her mind she isn't sure if she took his hand out of affection. Instantly they disappeared among the multitude re-emerging at the queue at the mall gate before security guards inspecting women's shoulder bags and frisking men from waist to calves before they were allowed in. From there they proceeded to the movie ticket booth.
Inside the theater, their eyes adjusted to the darkness. All their eyes could see is the screen scrolling up the end credits.
A shadow approached from the opposite direction. It puts it hand in its jeans pocket and kept it there. As they came within reach of the shadow, the hand thrusts hard a glinting thing into his chest. She didn't notice anything until his hand loosened on hers as he dropped to the floor.
"Oh my Godddddddd!" she screamed. Her voice echoed like it was shouted to a cliff. Moments later, the screen went blank and the lights were turned on while the shadow casually walked to the door. The momentary opening of the door allowed the noise out but not enough to be noticed by the people outside as the closer sprung shut the both-side swinging door again.
The outside lights revealed the face of the shadow -- a girl, lanky from being thin. But that was all the details the lights could provide. She was not fleeing; the crowd was enough a refuge that escape wasn’t necessary. She quickly joined the other people and was gone to a pedestrian lane wanting to cross the highway. She stood there to wait and thoughts different from what the eyes can see came flooding. The highway was a river and the cars were giant boulders carried by a flood. At the other side of the river were children playing in its cliff bank. One child, too young to be naughty and naked from the waist down, was sitting at the edge of the cliff. He dangled his feet almost touching the water. His penis rested on the sand as he sat. Some grits of sand adhered to the moist end of his uncircumcised penis as he stood to jump into the water. He buried his toe among rocks in the water and kicked his feet into the air to the direction of the other side of the river. He buries his toe again and the boy transformed into a carabao calf and his right toe the mouth of a dugong grazing underwater weeds. As the calf moved away, a Japanese-looking man with gray beard and mustache and sideburns superimposed the vision. He was cutting reeds at the foot of a bridge. The other side of the river was houses of all-bamboo materials. Men were drinking the other day’s tuba, a prelude to a party of an unknown celebration. The carabao calf re-appeared, went near them and got knocked in the forehead with a big rock by the drinking men. They drained the beast of its blood from the nostrils into their drinks instead of cutting a slit in the neck. The boy emerged from the body of the dead beast the way a phoenix would from the ashes. His eyes looked around but without looking at the drinking men. His eyes wandered to where a thin dog is being chained to a bamboo chair like it had stolen fire. The dog's left hind leg is free to allow it to raise it when urinating. The mind of mix up thoughts segued to reality. Her hands were still hidden in her jeans pocket. And then she joined the crowd that crossed the highway.
Back inside the theater, the coagulated blood remained on the floor when they carried the stabbed man out of the theater and out of the mall into a taxi to a nearby hospital. It tells the history of the past few minutes. When the giant screen darkened for the next screening, feet trampled it. As the taxi sped away blinking lights to indicate emergency, she struggled back to her senses to look back at the recent past.
"You’ve the idea why I called you here?" the professor asked.
"No, not at all," she lied.
"Look at this." He opened he pouch and brought out the content. She looked without saying anything. "How can you mistake this for your answer to the exam? One page is not enough to satisfy my questions in the exam, not even 15 or 20 pages. How can you mistake this letter to be your answer to the exam?"
"I've put the wrong paper."
"Alright, I want you to comeback within two days. Show it to me; bring it to me -- the answer to the exam that you mistakenly mailed to your parents. Exam time is not the time to write letters to parents, I might forgive you. Come back within two days."
She folded the paper on which she copied the test questions pretending to be answering and secretly put in her jeans pocket. After submitting her sealed manila envelope she went straight to the university post office and then to the provincial library. The university library closes a week before the final exam. More than a week later, home for the semestral vacation, she herself received the pouch from the letter carrier.
"So what's your decision? He's old -- nearly twice as old?"
"I'm thinking of accepting."
"I'm not giving you up to him – or to anybody."
"Only for a while, I'll come back to you."
"No!" she said angrily.
"We will still be seeing each other."
"I can't share you with anybody."
"There's nothing I can do."
"There is, if you really want to. I want you to say no."
"I'm not coming back to this university just for that one subject alone."
"I spent so much on you."
The word changed the atmosphere from quarrel to fight although their voices were controlled.
"I told you I will still be seeing you. You're the reason I neglected that subject so I had to cheat."
"I said I'm not giving you up to him."
"I said there is nothing I can do."
"There is something I will do."
"Then do it! But what is it?"
"You'll know when I’ve done it."
There is a moment of silence and exchange of looks. Their voices toned down to soft conversation.
"You'll be in jail."
"I'm not going to jail."
"The law will be after you."
"They law will have nobody to run after. Don't worry about me. I care more about losing you than the loss of my..."
She kept the finisher word unsaid. It doesn't exist anyway as far as they are concerned. She was several paces leaving her behind when the final parting word that needed to be said was to be said loud to be clearly heard.
"Where will I find you?"
"You know where to find me."
He was almost twice older -- such a kind of relationship as that of Joseph and Mary was probably the best known one. Michael and Catherine picked up the idea but they failed to get the trend moving. And on her part, she detested the idea, only she didn't have a choice. But now her heart melted for the dying man. The warmth of his blood that flowed and dried on her blouse and on her undies and belly skin, the man’s dying moments spent in her arms, somehow ate up a space in her heart. And now she wished the murder did not take place.
A pair of feet approached the house, a barung-barong by city word. Nobody is home save for the child -- a boy, and a dog, curled near the open door. The path on which the feet walked seemed trodden only by the owner of the house whose husband died when the child in her womb. He died for the movement and she accepted the loss without bitterness. And now that her husband is gone and the movement is in a sense dormant or totally dead, the path had become less and less walked.
Here the clouds aren't merely for the eyes to see. It's also for the hand to touch as it lingers low until late mornings. Arecas abound and while evaporation was not yet strong its millions of tiny flowers perfumed the morning breeze. Unlike the ilang-ilang, no spirit maker has yet patented the areca scent. As the feet stepped on the dry areca frond heaping on the path, it sent signal like a trip wire to the sleeping dog. He began to bark guessingly and instantly his barking voice added colors to silence. As the approaching feet emerged from the fog, he added loudness to his barking intent in keeping the intruder at bay. He bared his fang growling ready to attack.
"Osmond, Osmond! You're still alive after all these years. And who is this angel? Ah yes, you were in your Mama's body when your Papa died. Where is your mama?" she asked like the child is capable of giving her the information she needed.
Osmond stopped barking as soon as his name was called. His canine sense of smell didn’t send signal to the brain any scent of this intruder’s fear and his mine went rushing through memories to check why this intruder knows him by name. And the he recognized her smell and Osmond began to wag his tail. She kneeled to him and held the dog in the ear with both hands almost kissing him. And then he led her to the child's mother in the broke. She was about finished with the dishes when they arrived.
"Babes!" she called.
"So you're the one being barked."
"Yeah, I was."
"You have come back. Is there still reason to come back?"
"I just missed this place. Is there still reason for you to stay here?"
"I cannot leave this place yet."
"You still with that solar light NGO?"
"Yes, that's why I'm still here. But what really happened? I know you won’t come here for that reason alone -- missing this place."
Babes looked at her in the eyes demanding confession.
"I've killed a man."
"Is there still reason to kill?"
"It's not in the name of the movement."
"So what is it?"
"It's Fear."
"What about Fear."
"She went out with another man -- a man."
"Do we accept that kind of killing?"
"We don't, but maybe we can blame it to the movement."
"You want to get away with your crime using the movement?"
"We've gotten away so many times."
"Yes, but that was different. We did not do that for our own selves. We did that for the country. They were not personal enemies. We did that for what we fought for."
"Ok, alright. But I'm not giving myself up. If the authorities find me and arrest me, I'll give myself up -- without a fight."
There was a long moments of silence, each trying to find a word to say and what to decide. Osmond who was lying near them stood up and began to rub his body on Babe's legs as though to beg to allowed her to stay. She touched him in the head and Osmond steadied to be touched some more. He whined and barked then touched his paw on her. Her hand accepted his paw.
"You think that's fair enough for Fear?"
"How can that be fair or unfair for Fear?"
"She's a girl."
"So?"
"She might have fallen in love with the man you killed."
They looked at each other long each struggling to find words to say. Babes got up after sitting long before the spring. She felt the blood in her shins and soles creeping back to circulation. She picked up the pail loaded with washed dishes of the morning meal and began to walk the path towards the hut. The lanky girl walked behind. They walked in silence still finding for words to say like every word had been said.
Osmond went rushing through their legs to the direction of the hut and to the heaped dry frond by the path and began barking at a figure emerging in the mist.
--- e n d ---
Inside the theater, their eyes adjusted to the darkness. All their eyes could see is the screen scrolling up the end credits.
A shadow approached from the opposite direction. It puts it hand in its jeans pocket and kept it there. As they came within reach of the shadow, the hand thrusts hard a glinting thing into his chest. She didn't notice anything until his hand loosened on hers as he dropped to the floor.
"Oh my Godddddddd!" she screamed. Her voice echoed like it was shouted to a cliff. Moments later, the screen went blank and the lights were turned on while the shadow casually walked to the door. The momentary opening of the door allowed the noise out but not enough to be noticed by the people outside as the closer sprung shut the both-side swinging door again.
The outside lights revealed the face of the shadow -- a girl, lanky from being thin. But that was all the details the lights could provide. She was not fleeing; the crowd was enough a refuge that escape wasn’t necessary. She quickly joined the other people and was gone to a pedestrian lane wanting to cross the highway. She stood there to wait and thoughts different from what the eyes can see came flooding. The highway was a river and the cars were giant boulders carried by a flood. At the other side of the river were children playing in its cliff bank. One child, too young to be naughty and naked from the waist down, was sitting at the edge of the cliff. He dangled his feet almost touching the water. His penis rested on the sand as he sat. Some grits of sand adhered to the moist end of his uncircumcised penis as he stood to jump into the water. He buried his toe among rocks in the water and kicked his feet into the air to the direction of the other side of the river. He buries his toe again and the boy transformed into a carabao calf and his right toe the mouth of a dugong grazing underwater weeds. As the calf moved away, a Japanese-looking man with gray beard and mustache and sideburns superimposed the vision. He was cutting reeds at the foot of a bridge. The other side of the river was houses of all-bamboo materials. Men were drinking the other day’s tuba, a prelude to a party of an unknown celebration. The carabao calf re-appeared, went near them and got knocked in the forehead with a big rock by the drinking men. They drained the beast of its blood from the nostrils into their drinks instead of cutting a slit in the neck. The boy emerged from the body of the dead beast the way a phoenix would from the ashes. His eyes looked around but without looking at the drinking men. His eyes wandered to where a thin dog is being chained to a bamboo chair like it had stolen fire. The dog's left hind leg is free to allow it to raise it when urinating. The mind of mix up thoughts segued to reality. Her hands were still hidden in her jeans pocket. And then she joined the crowd that crossed the highway.
Back inside the theater, the coagulated blood remained on the floor when they carried the stabbed man out of the theater and out of the mall into a taxi to a nearby hospital. It tells the history of the past few minutes. When the giant screen darkened for the next screening, feet trampled it. As the taxi sped away blinking lights to indicate emergency, she struggled back to her senses to look back at the recent past.
"You’ve the idea why I called you here?" the professor asked.
"No, not at all," she lied.
"Look at this." He opened he pouch and brought out the content. She looked without saying anything. "How can you mistake this for your answer to the exam? One page is not enough to satisfy my questions in the exam, not even 15 or 20 pages. How can you mistake this letter to be your answer to the exam?"
"I've put the wrong paper."
"Alright, I want you to comeback within two days. Show it to me; bring it to me -- the answer to the exam that you mistakenly mailed to your parents. Exam time is not the time to write letters to parents, I might forgive you. Come back within two days."
She folded the paper on which she copied the test questions pretending to be answering and secretly put in her jeans pocket. After submitting her sealed manila envelope she went straight to the university post office and then to the provincial library. The university library closes a week before the final exam. More than a week later, home for the semestral vacation, she herself received the pouch from the letter carrier.
"So what's your decision? He's old -- nearly twice as old?"
"I'm thinking of accepting."
"I'm not giving you up to him – or to anybody."
"Only for a while, I'll come back to you."
"No!" she said angrily.
"We will still be seeing each other."
"I can't share you with anybody."
"There's nothing I can do."
"There is, if you really want to. I want you to say no."
"I'm not coming back to this university just for that one subject alone."
"I spent so much on you."
The word changed the atmosphere from quarrel to fight although their voices were controlled.
"I told you I will still be seeing you. You're the reason I neglected that subject so I had to cheat."
"I said I'm not giving you up to him."
"I said there is nothing I can do."
"There is something I will do."
"Then do it! But what is it?"
"You'll know when I’ve done it."
There is a moment of silence and exchange of looks. Their voices toned down to soft conversation.
"You'll be in jail."
"I'm not going to jail."
"The law will be after you."
"They law will have nobody to run after. Don't worry about me. I care more about losing you than the loss of my..."
She kept the finisher word unsaid. It doesn't exist anyway as far as they are concerned. She was several paces leaving her behind when the final parting word that needed to be said was to be said loud to be clearly heard.
"Where will I find you?"
"You know where to find me."
He was almost twice older -- such a kind of relationship as that of Joseph and Mary was probably the best known one. Michael and Catherine picked up the idea but they failed to get the trend moving. And on her part, she detested the idea, only she didn't have a choice. But now her heart melted for the dying man. The warmth of his blood that flowed and dried on her blouse and on her undies and belly skin, the man’s dying moments spent in her arms, somehow ate up a space in her heart. And now she wished the murder did not take place.
A pair of feet approached the house, a barung-barong by city word. Nobody is home save for the child -- a boy, and a dog, curled near the open door. The path on which the feet walked seemed trodden only by the owner of the house whose husband died when the child in her womb. He died for the movement and she accepted the loss without bitterness. And now that her husband is gone and the movement is in a sense dormant or totally dead, the path had become less and less walked.
Here the clouds aren't merely for the eyes to see. It's also for the hand to touch as it lingers low until late mornings. Arecas abound and while evaporation was not yet strong its millions of tiny flowers perfumed the morning breeze. Unlike the ilang-ilang, no spirit maker has yet patented the areca scent. As the feet stepped on the dry areca frond heaping on the path, it sent signal like a trip wire to the sleeping dog. He began to bark guessingly and instantly his barking voice added colors to silence. As the approaching feet emerged from the fog, he added loudness to his barking intent in keeping the intruder at bay. He bared his fang growling ready to attack.
"Osmond, Osmond! You're still alive after all these years. And who is this angel? Ah yes, you were in your Mama's body when your Papa died. Where is your mama?" she asked like the child is capable of giving her the information she needed.
Osmond stopped barking as soon as his name was called. His canine sense of smell didn’t send signal to the brain any scent of this intruder’s fear and his mine went rushing through memories to check why this intruder knows him by name. And the he recognized her smell and Osmond began to wag his tail. She kneeled to him and held the dog in the ear with both hands almost kissing him. And then he led her to the child's mother in the broke. She was about finished with the dishes when they arrived.
"Babes!" she called.
"So you're the one being barked."
"Yeah, I was."
"You have come back. Is there still reason to come back?"
"I just missed this place. Is there still reason for you to stay here?"
"I cannot leave this place yet."
"You still with that solar light NGO?"
"Yes, that's why I'm still here. But what really happened? I know you won’t come here for that reason alone -- missing this place."
Babes looked at her in the eyes demanding confession.
"I've killed a man."
"Is there still reason to kill?"
"It's not in the name of the movement."
"So what is it?"
"It's Fear."
"What about Fear."
"She went out with another man -- a man."
"Do we accept that kind of killing?"
"We don't, but maybe we can blame it to the movement."
"You want to get away with your crime using the movement?"
"We've gotten away so many times."
"Yes, but that was different. We did not do that for our own selves. We did that for the country. They were not personal enemies. We did that for what we fought for."
"Ok, alright. But I'm not giving myself up. If the authorities find me and arrest me, I'll give myself up -- without a fight."
There was a long moments of silence, each trying to find a word to say and what to decide. Osmond who was lying near them stood up and began to rub his body on Babe's legs as though to beg to allowed her to stay. She touched him in the head and Osmond steadied to be touched some more. He whined and barked then touched his paw on her. Her hand accepted his paw.
"You think that's fair enough for Fear?"
"How can that be fair or unfair for Fear?"
"She's a girl."
"So?"
"She might have fallen in love with the man you killed."
They looked at each other long each struggling to find words to say. Babes got up after sitting long before the spring. She felt the blood in her shins and soles creeping back to circulation. She picked up the pail loaded with washed dishes of the morning meal and began to walk the path towards the hut. The lanky girl walked behind. They walked in silence still finding for words to say like every word had been said.
Osmond went rushing through their legs to the direction of the hut and to the heaped dry frond by the path and began barking at a figure emerging in the mist.
--- e n d ---
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)