Damp earth, lazy Sunday. The rain’s just stopped. The night before, I asked Mam to wake me up at six that morning so that I could catch up with them for the seven o’clock mass. The heaven was still sprinkling when I woke up. It was raining hard at six and they weren’t able to attend mass so I thought, that was the reason maybe, why they didn’t bother waking me up.
Too bad ‘cause that was the first Sunday after New Year’s Day. I went to mass for the first time on Christmas Day last year. The next Sunday was New Year’s Day and again, I went to mass my first and hopefully not the last this year. I thought that it might be a good new year’s resolution to start hearing mass regularly. I know though that I shouldn’t have thought of making that New Year resolution ‘cause I have never really kept one in my entire existence, and I always knew this is not going to be an exception.
It’s nine-thirty and as usual, I had a hard time getting up where my thoughts are heavier than my system and the most that I can do is open my eyes and pick up traces of my brain that poured out of it.
All the earth was cold, and the only place that remained warm in the world was the sofa where I was lying down in the living room, which has become my bedroom because I couldn’t get away from the television with my insomniacs that have been giving me an awfully bad sleeping habit.
It took the forces of a thousand angels before I finally rose to my feet. I was feeling dizzy and was struggling with my steps. I scratched my head and the back of my neck. I scratched my dickey under my brief. I was walking but I didn’t know where I was heading. I saw no signs of a living.
I know it would be another boring Sunday. What with the cold weather and the sun weak behind white clouds. I wandered around and wondered where all the rest have gone. For all I care. Then I saw him. There he was, sitting by the kitchen door, staring at our neighbor’s house just across the fence. He was looking for signs of Ken and Camille, his regular weekend playmates. He was picking his nose and without a life. So I came up to him.
‘Morning!’ I greeted.
‘Morning, Tito.’ He replied, without looking, a lot more lifeless than I am.
I thought I’d get some coffee and grab a good book, my usual morning menu. But the kitchen was empty, no coffee, no tea, not even milk, and I’ve finished reading all my books. So I sat next to him by the kitchen door and for a moment there watched the drizzle. I took quick glances at him and after some time I got to think about going to McDonald’s. But he was too busy, his attention was intent o the other side of the fence. I thought, he must be praying Ken and Camille would show themselves any minute then.
Marvin is my nephew, the son of my sister, and the first living grandchild of my parents. There are now four of them, two boys from my brother, him and a little sister, plus the two other sisters before him now dead and gone.
The thought of it led me to confusion. The fact that I cannot anymore call myself a youth, though I am not that much of an adult either. (What with the boyish countenance) So I ended up calling myself a young adult and ran with the idea. Though I realized later when I started applying for jobs that I should be starting to let my face into looking like an adult, or nobody would believe me.
Marvin is five, and one must understand that he was born and raised in a farm where I was born. On Friday afternoons, after his class, where he is enrolled in a Day Care Center a mile uphill from the farm, his mother walked him a couple of miles more to our house. Him and his sister, Arlene, hanging on her mother’s hips, reached us at dusk to spend the whole weekend entertaining their Lolo and Lola. (I figure the folks would be spending the rest of their lifetime frowning if they only have me to spend it with)
‘Hey!’ ‘Huh?’ He replied without minding. ‘You wanna go to McDonald’s?’ ‘Now?’ And I wonder why he didn’t answer me with a yes, an uhuh, or a sure let’s go. He was smiling to his ears though, and I thought, well what could you expect from a lousy morning like this? I thought, everything gets really dry and dumb around here.
Then he said, ‘But I left my shoes at home!’ and the smile turned to a worried look. Then I know. I figured, he’s worried he might not be able to go because he’s got no shoes, and the farm is too far from where we are. ‘Oh that’s not a problem.’ I said, and the smile was back. ‘I’ll wear slippers?’ he asked, still unconvinced. ‘Sure what’s wrong with that?’ Then he said, ‘You don’t have to wear shoes.’ Then I assured him, ‘Yes, I won’t.’ Said, ‘I’ll go take a bath.’ I said, ‘No, you don’t have to.’ Said, ‘I better go change now, right?’ I said, ‘You don’t have to.’ Said, ‘I’ll go tell Nanay.’ Then, I said, ‘Ah that you shouldn’t do. Let’s keep this between us.’ Then he said, ‘Okay!’ He was giggling one moment and a wondering look the next. I said, ‘Let’s go?’ and it took him a moment be fore he finally stood on his feet and moment more before he could take another step and started jumping.
He was looking at me as if studying the expression on my face. I don’t know if he was hesitant and looking for sign of me just fooling around, but I’m I was all serious with my trying-hard-to-be-cheerful smile. I wouldn’t have wondered if he was doubting me though, ‘cause my hair’s all sticking up and going to all directions. We’re out on the way and I was still stretching and yawning and that puzzled him even more. Soon we’re out on the highway and waiting for the jeep to arrive, and that assured him we’re going. Then there’s my thoughts again, me and my impulsive, compulsive attitude whatever you call it. I’m always like that. Then the jeep arrived, and I wound up with the thought that at least I could only care less about money, money can’t buy comfort.
He was so quiet on the ride. The driver sped up gear after gear and it got even colder, so I thought he’s just cold and asked him, ‘Are you cold?’ (Because I’m freezing here) ‘No.’ and I thought, of course, everyday’s a freezing weather at the farm. Once I went there after a long time that I wasn’t able to visit. I got sick when I got back.
I pointed at the cows and everything that we see along the way. The rivers, the farms, the houses on stilts and talked him into pitying the poor family crowding in those small house full of holes, for him to at least feel happy that their house is a lot sturdier. I made up stories in my mind at everything that I pointed out to him. I pointed at those little children splashing rain water, playing on the roadside where the rain has settled after the downpour, for him to at least see that it takes little to enjoy life. The innocent look on children’s faces, walking on ragged clothes, with their eyes glued to the direction of the speeding jeep. I thought, for him to at least see that his clothes are better. All just to cheer him up since I found him to be unusually quiet. I found it especially odd ‘cause he’s usually not like that. He would talk non-stop with all the twitching here and there not settling for a single position, more like regular kids I’d say. I thought maybe he’s not used to enjoying my company since I never really got to spend time with them. And I felt guilty thinking I should have spared some time hanging around with the family and this little boy to win his trust.
So I asked him, ‘What do you wanna eat?’ He spent some time there thinking, ‘Ahmm? Ahmm?’ like he’s catching up on time before the offer expires. ‘Ah! French fries, aaand, hamburger, aaand, I want chicken, and ice cream?’ looking at me as if waiting for some confirmation. I made a quick pause and pretended I was thinking about the proposal. I thought I noticed him holding his breath there hoping. Then I smiled and said, ‘Okay, we’ll buy whatever you want.’
We reached McDonald’s in no time where the jeep halted across. We had a hard time crossing ‘cause I’ve been having trouble crossing streets since the time I got bumped by a jeep in front of the school back in college. We entered McDonald’s and he was walking real slow I had to drag him in after he was greeted by the guard who’s struggling to look his friendliest in his hoodlum of a face. He started smiling the moment he finally got past the guard into the counter where a sleepy-looking crew greeted us, good morning. But that wasn’t long before he was back with a blank to worried face again.
I ordered cheeseburger and fries and Coke and Oreo sundae for him after I found out that it’s all that my money can afford. He seemed okay with it without the chicken anyway. I settled for a cup of coffee and asked for the newspaper from the bus boy. I read the paper while allowing him to finish his food. He seemed to me confused where to start. ‘Tito Rocky?’ ‘Yes? You can eat now.’ ‘You’ve no food. I can share.’ ‘Oh no, I’m good. I’m fine with my coffee, go on eat now.’ ‘We have to pray first.’ ‘Oh, of course now why don’t you lead the grace?’ Without a word he was quick to clasp his little hands under his chin and squeezed close his eyes and started murmuring his grace. I had to lean forward eager to hear what prayer he was whispering to himself but leaned back when he hinted on opening it. I was careful he might think I was spying on him.
So he started with his food and I hid myself behind the newspaper. I checked on him taking glances stretching my head up and on the side behind the newspaper. He was busy with his food.
About twenty minutes past he was pulling my arm complaining. Said he can no longer finish his food. When I turned to him traces of food was all over his mouth. ‘Can we just take this home for my little sister? She must be awake by now.’ ‘Sure can! Let’s have this bagged.’
To my surprise, he started smiling and jumping, swinging the bag of fries on one hand the moment we stepped out of McDonald’s. So I said to myself, ah, there’s the kid I was looking for, just had his fill. And he started talking no end, from the jeep all the way till we reached our place. That was a good forty-five-minute speech he gave, I thought. He was talking about whatever gets in his head, becoming uncontrollable all of a sudden.
We stepped down the jeep and started walking home when little Ken came calling from behind us.
‘Marvin! Marvin!’
He turned, walked a step back, and the kid rushed to his side walked along. I headed my way feeling the breeze of cold wind, the helpless sun, and the sprinkle of the barely visible raindrops on my face. It wasn’t my intention but I got caught up into their little big conversation following behind me.
‘What’s that you’re holding?’ Little Ken asked. ‘French fries. We went to McDonald’s.’ ‘Went where?’ ‘ My Tito Rocky and I went to McDonalds, and you know what?’ ‘What?’ ‘You could go to McDonalds even if you just have your slippers on!’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yep!’ Sounding so proud now. ‘Really. Look, I only have my slippers on and Tito Rocky, too. We only have our slippers on going to McDonald’s!’ ‘Oh yeah?’ asked the confused little boy.
I hid a smile. With that, everything came clear. I thought, so that’s what was keeping him to himself the whole time. All the while he was too worried to smile or talk all because of that freakin’ pair of slippers that’s festering his mind. And I realized, of course. Where was I getting? I could have just assured him that wearing slippers going to McDonalds is perfectly just fine. I shouldn’t have any further into things. I should’ve just dealt with the limits of his understanding, his idea of common restrictions.
Why did I have to let him see the beauty of the houses on stilts when it was only I who thought it’s ugly? Why did I have to show him the joy that those kids felt for dancing in the rain when it was only I who envied them for getting rid of these things to cope with my foolish idea of maturity? Why did I have to show him the fate of destiny expressed in ragged clothes when to him, being a child at play is fortune enough? And why did I have to question his trust about my company when it was only I who doubted.
The innocent heart of a child is a wellspring of trust. So common to him that his mother still has to remind him never to entertain strangers at school. All these things are just borne out of me and every grown up’ guilt for not being able to do our part the moment our world grew bigger. The child’s world is a small world. Indeed. But it is complete. It has all the essentials that we seem to have forgotten with the years that we slowly go blinded by our growing world.
I walked my way as if nothing happened. I never turned back to allow them their privacy. I looked up to the sky. I closed my eyes and once again felt the joy that the drizzle brings, tickling my face. After long years, I was back to enjoying my favorite weather listening to the clasping sound of my slippers against the soles of my feet. I sighed.
Aaah, kids… Sometimes I’m thinking - naaah.
