Sometime in one of the days that followed, I found myself in another family’s dinner table. Tony Boy’s mother was kind enough as to let me stay for a night or two. His mother earned their living as an in-house seamstress, doing women’s clothes, and anything from curtains to mantelpieces. She once worked in a tailoring shop, soon decided to go on her own when she acquired for herself a second hand Singer sewing machine.
They can afford it then, when his father still has work at the city civil registrar. They had enough money then, but not until his father found no apparent use of working hard to get so much of it.
There was a time when his father has to work doubly hard to be able to get his older brother into Law school. Towards the middle of the year, his brother was making his father proud of his outstanding performance in the Political Science Division in college. His father was especially happy at all the hard work that was paying off. Towards the end of the year, however, his brother started to put into outright practice, all that the thick pages of a number of Law books had taught him.
At the start, they learned from him of his active involvement in school activists group, eventually, they learned about his religious participation in all known rallies against the government. Soon, the food at the dinner table grew cold and they would wake up the following morning and find for themselves that his brother has not gone home for the night.
At the end of his first year of school, he disappeared out of the blue. They had been from every district police stations, to the national penitentiary in search for him, only to receive a letter one morning, telling them that he has joined the rebellious revolutionary movement, and has fled the city to join his comrades in the mountains. He stated his reason as, fighting for the cause of the people and the country, and referred himself as Ka Goryo, his revolutionary name.
The following year, Tony Boy’s sister entered college. Her choice of course would assure the family that the case of his older brother was history. She took up Midwifery. True enough. She never joined any activists’ group demonstrations, abhorred the rallies, and remained concentrated on her own private affairs. But then again, they would wake up one morning, to be confronted with another letter bearing the news of a sentimental exit. They learned that she was then two months pregnant, and had opted to elope with the father of the child. As to her whereabouts, nobody could tell, for the real purpose of the elopement that it was not stated in the letter. Maybe up north where the man was said to have some distant relatives, or down south where nobody knew them and they could reinvent themselves for a fresh new start.
Soon his father arrived at the conclusion that it would not be a good idea for children to be afforded with too much education. Tony Boy who was then nine, and was in grade four, was never allowed to set foot on any school ever again. That was five years ago. Tony Boy is already fourteen.
Since then, his father quit his job and would since be seen most often, drinking together with his neighborhood compadres in a sari-sari store fronting their house. He would sip coffee, puff cigarettes, and read the morning news from cover to cover every morning for his breakfast, maintaining a dignified countenance of a civil registry employee in the morning, and a bitter disillusioned drunkard at the end of the day. His mother, like all wives confined to domestication, remained silent about it. Her thoughts remained sewn in the patterns of every dress she makes. Tony Boy remained unattended.
At one time, his father spoke to me over supper. He was praising me, with a lot of supporting commentaries about my decision to quit school. He was obviously drunk from an afternoon of drinking. The good thing about his always being drunk is that, he doesn’t have so much of an appetite. He chews more words than food that they don’t have to cook till the next supper. He said that learning is dangerous, that a little amount of it could already lead a person to eternal damnation. He went on to expound the matter, talking about what had happened to his children. The bad thing about it was the fact that he seemed to have accepted the idea that Tony Boy was more likely to fall under the same fate.
Other than the talks about Tony Boy, which has sent him squirming, both mother and son would only pay little attention to this father. I went on nodding my head considering the thought that no amount of words could get in the way of an experienced father whose thinking had been diluted by the sedating influence of alcohol. What when even Tony Boy and his mother could not even take his words with reverence, and would only contribute an appeasing smile, so as not to provoke an argument that would trigger his frustrations and defeating disappointments with his two educated children.
One morning, after a night that I spent in their house, I went back home to change and get a good bath. Albert dropped by early that morning with a pair of shorts and T-shirt clipped under his arm. He brought it intentionally for me. He must have noticed how I went on living for more than three days wearing the same dirty clothes day and night. He was actually the one who reminded me about taking a bath because it would seem to him that the thought of it had slipped off my mind. He was right.
Albert was an early riser. His Lolo was an earlier riser. After boiling water for the old man’s coffee, he walks out of the house, push the kariton, still sleeping. He wakes himself up on the trot.
I was gripping the pushing handle and it was almost dragging me. I was half awake from an interrupted sleep. We were still sleeping when Albert arrived. He woke us all up. Tony Boy went back to sleep. He said he would follow. We left him.
Albert was maintaining a steady yet a little faster pace. Pushing the kariton early in the morning makes up his morning exercise. I had a hard time catching up with him. The morning hustle brings a warm rush of spirits in the air. The rattling sound of the empty cart on the unasphalted side of the streets sends the stones and gravel crumbling under the little wheels, giving our bodies a shaking motion that was enough to wake me up. I make big leaps and let my stomach fall against the handle to allow half of my weight to rest against the kariton. My feet hanged until the cart rocked and Albert had to grab my back and pull me down.
From where we left, we had to push the cart all the way straight, crossing two intersecting streets before we could reach the house. As the day starts, you could see the growing number of people moving to different directions. Taho vendors are a common sight in the morning. You see women going to and from the market, carrying baskets with them. Sari-sari stores cleaning up their storefronts from plastic wastes of sorts joined the street sweepers making the whisking sound of their broomsticks.
Half of the people you see were children. Pan de Sal peddlers roam the streets in their bicycles, honking its horns. There were newspaper boys yelling out on every house they pass by. School children walk in groups, enjoying the heckle, their slippers clasping against the soles of their feet on their way to school. Younger children in ragged clothes ran about in the streets. A jeep full of pigs, on its way to the market left a mounting smell in the air and everyone halted to cover their nose.
It was quite evident how dominant every man in the house is in the morning. While you see women sweeping their front yards, or hear the sound of coconut husks while they are scrubbing their floors, if not attending to their pile of dirty clothes for laundry with their able kids, you see their husbands spending their lazy morning, convening at the nearby sari-sari, out in the street, or sitting by the window sipping coffee and reading the papers. It’s not a wonder how this particular place in the city grew older everyday, with the same old Spanish houses lining the rows from the time it was built by generations of the bygone years. Only a small number of family men are working with a stable job, and the money they get is not even enough to renovate the caving houses. All they can afford are minor repairs for covering the leaks in the roof where it drips in the interior when it rains, and for covering the termite holes in the walls.
Like Tony Boy’s father, these men had borne among themselves the reality that nothing could be done to improve their living conditions. To them this was what the supposed Bagong Lipunan was all about. There was no hope in the government. As long as the guns crackle in the streets, and the clamor of the brave few is thought to be a gamble of risks, no person belonging to the deprived majority can ever go against the will of every iron hand, whose claim to power was made more effective by the act involving the corruption of every poor man’s freedom and opportunity to live in comfort. These men have come to accept the fact that no amount of hard work and dedication can ever equal the justice that only belonged to the privileged few.
But not all are identical to Tony Boy’s father in his frame of mind. While some would send their children to school, just as it comes as an instinctive responsibility among parents, the rest are hoping that by sending their children to school, this young generation will soon be foster to their elusive dream of a free society. Eradicate fear, and restore for them the sweet smell of democracy and let it linger in the air. That even if they may not be able to catch it with their last breath of life, at least will join the wind that will soon blow among the weeds that grows above their grave.
But it was yet too early to define this younger generation. It’s hard to tell whether hope reside in their magnitude, in the magnitude that we are.
While we were nearing the house, and while Albert did all the talking about whatever got in his head, I remained watchful of all my surroundings. Looking before me, I saw how a pack of school kids were silenced all of a sudden when two stern-looking men in uniform who were walking on the same direction as they are, have overtaken them, walking with brisk, and with full confidence in their identities being watchdogs of the imperialized society. The kids moved on the side, clearing the way for them, cramping up in fear. When they have completely overtaken them, the kids gave the two policemen a following salute behind their backs. The kids were glancing about to each other and another kid received slaps on the forehead for being slow in the performance of the salute. A gesture that had to be maintained until the two policemen would be out of sight.
This was a common practice then among children of our age. Nevertheless, I was caught about what I have witnessed that when the two men walked past us, I received a blow in my forehead myself, from Albert who was quick to render the gesture behind their backs. The kids saw what happened and once again, I heard their voices in mocking laughter. Albert maintained the salute with a pouting look. I finally woke up.
After crossing the second intersection, I could already feel the sweat rolling down my skin. My house is already within sight. The street is going to an elevation from where we left, going to where I live, so if you look back, you could see the stretches of the distance that we have traveled without seeing exactly the house where we started off. From crossing the second intersection, we had to pass by four more houses before finally reaching the destination. Unlike the slums where Victor lived, there is a little more space in between houses here. But this is an old street and the houses smell of old.
From the looks of it, you could tell that this was once a rich and all-important street. I call it historic. Lolo Ishmael once told me that the whole place was once home to a lot of well-to-do families where mestizos with reputable ranks in the then flourishing mercantile community of Zaragoza used to inhabit. Then, parties and huge gatherings are held, alternating in every house almost every night. There’s not a house without maids, and whose sons and daughters go home from the premiere bigger university in the capital city of Olazabal during the summer for the school break. The original sons of the place are mostly doctors, lawyers, if not certified public accountants among others. But after the war, most of these mestizos fled the place and migrated to America or to the more progressive city of Olazabal, where there’s a lot of rewarding opportunities in the practice of their professions.
If you would think about it, there are a lot of opportunities here, where they are more needed, but it was never monetarily rewarding. They wouldn’t bother grabbing any opportunity if it does not compensate for the cost of all that they spent for their education anyway. The few who have remained only grew old with time.
The mestizos are gone, but they are hardly forgotten. They left behind some very distant relatives to take over their houses. People, who spoke so much about them like they still belonged to the same house, eat together with them on the same table, and sleeps on the other room. I did not have to doubt if these people they claim to have close ties with still remembered them. They do not. These people do not even get to receive birthday or Christmas cards from them.
But they are hardly forgotten. In many of the houses, old signs still hangs, worn out by rain and the sun, hanging on the walls outside or on those rusty gates. Enrique Pelaez, Attorney at Law, Alejandro Cabrera, Attorney at Law, Manuel Collantes, M.D., Physician, Julian de Leon, M.D., Physician, Conchita de Leon, Certified Public Accountant. These signs gave for the place a ghostly reputation and faces that will forever remain young in the minds and memories of the old people of the place. Old people like Lolo Ishmael, a retired police colonel, an undefined unidentified crony, and Albert’s grandfather.
We rolled by Aling Taleng’s house. The lady, a widow, lives with her older sister, an old maid, Aling Maring. Her daughter is working in Japan, if you would consider dancing as a job, cultural dancer as she puts it. I don’t care, she sent them money to buy the television set. Their window is wide enough to reveal what was inside their living room. In the afternoon, young and old alike, flocked by their window to watch television. I always joined them most of the time, if I go home early from the junk shop. No television when I looked through their window. I remembered I missed the Lone Ranger the night before. Albert liked watching Popeye over the Lone Ranger. I like watching Rintintin over Popeye. Popeye is a fake. Once I go on a mission to go against the bully in school. I drank the whole condensed milk straight from the can as Popeye often do to make him strong. I thought it had the same effect on me, but I grew weak and spent one whole day in the toilet suffering from constipation. In the evening, Nanay found out about what I did and she gave me the whips. Popeye fooled me.
Our house stood next to theirs. It was like one of those houses, like their house, only with a wider font lawn, the windows are always half closed and not as wide. There’s a sign hanging in it also, like one of those Attorney at Law signs, hanging on the front wall facing the street. Jose Emmanuel Vosotros, Attorney at Law. Some Few days back, that was what the sign says. He was my mother’s father, my grandfather. He was one of those who grew old with time, whose professional practice only went as far as giving a clear point commentary in every street conversations, winning an argument with his wife, children, and stirring up a heated debate among his compañeros around the neighborhood. He has long returned to ashes.
I pulled down the sign after the day Nanay left. I scraped off the age-old flaking paint that wrote his name and transferred it to the front gate at the entrance. Now it reads, WANTED BOARDERS. When I saw the sign, I had to thank my mother again in my mind. I am so smart because she made me go to school. I was so smart to find a way of inserting the letter A to the word BORDER, because when Aling Taleng saw the sign, she told me that I got the wrong spelling. Then she asked me if I was only willing to take a boarder. I told her I was willing to take as many as three. One could take my mother’s room, one in my Lola’s room, and I could give my own for another. I thought, maybe I could just transfer at the living room. She then suggested to add the letter S to the word BOARDER, which I did and it made her even more satisfied than I was.
We left the kariton outside the gate. I was on my way in and Albert was following behind me, when I noticed that the door to the house was half opened. When I entered the house, I saw Aling Taleng, sweeping the floor, humming an old song, making herself comfortable that I thought I came to the wrong house.
"There you are my child! You didn’t go home last night, did you? I was worried about you. Nag-alala ako sa ‘yo baka kung na pa’no ka na. Where have you been all this time?"
"Thank you po. But you should not have bothered yourself, Aling Taleng."
"Good morning po, Aling Taleng."
"Good morning, Albert. Hay naku, mga bata kayo. O, have you eaten?"
I shook my head.
"O tamang-tama. I brought you some food. Go wash your hands so you two can eat now."
We hurried to the sink to wash our greasy hands. I noticed how everything was so clean and neatly placed in order at the kitchen. I have never seen the kitchen so clean like it before. I thought she must have stayed for quite a while already to have everything in place before we arrived. The lady went on with her sweeping before we got to the table. There were two bowls, each covered with a plate, on the table. Albert was quick to flip the plate off one of the bowls.
"Wow, Leon!"
"What’s that?"
"Adobo! What’s that on the other one?"
"Rice."
After eating, Albert cleared the table and I did the dishes. After the washing, I joined Albert at the living room. We rested with heavy stomachs. We were silent, like Aling Taleng was never there. When her sweeping reached the doorway, she started to deliver her piece. She delivered it all the way until she reached the front steps and we could only hear her voice going up and down with her emotions.
"That mother of yours…"
Albert and I stared at each other. I do not know what it was that was going on in his mind but I thought she was talking to somebody outside. I turned to the window and saw that there was nobody outside.
"Whom is she talking to?"
"You! Who else? She’s talking about your mother."
"Oh."
I remained motionless on the chair, staring at the floor. Albert could not keep his eyes away from me.
"I do not know what’s gotten in her head. How she was able to leave you just like that. Just like that? Walked out on you just like that? Like a mother dog walking out from her litter just like that? Susmariosep!"
She went on with her monologue, drowning herself with every word she spoke. I remained frozen, exposing myself to the devastation brought about by her tones. Her every word sends a deafening echo in my ears. I was without defenses. I was without a thought of anything. I let her through me, allowed her to torment me, tear me into pieces, awaken me into the reality of my fate.
"…How selfish of her. She thinks only of herself. Does she ever think of you? How does she ever expect you to get through these difficult times, in dangerous times like these? She’s only looking after her own safety, her own security. Puñetang babae talaga! What if something wrong will happen to you, God forbid! What if we will just find out one day that you got caught by a stray bullet in the streets, or arrested for no reason, then tortured to prison? Would she care? Hah! Terible!”
She went on still. Nobody could stop her. If she feels something important about what she was going to say, she would stick her head inside and raise one hand into the air for us to see how serious she really was about the matter. Everytime she did it, Albert would give her a quick glance then turned away. Still, I remained motionless, my eyes digging through the wooden floor.
"Here! You smell really bad, Leon. Go take your bath now."
Albert threw the clothes that he brought straight into my face. I do not know if his gesture was supposed to mean something, but with the look in his eyes and the way it brought me back to my senses, I got the feeling that he was doing me a diversionary favor.
Quickly I rose to my feet and hurried to the bathroom. Our bathroom is our toilet and our laundry room. When I got inside, I quickly locked the door. The lock is made of one twisted nail buried on one side of the door, another twisted nail on its opposite side on the doorframe. An untwisted nail hanged on a nylon string attached on the top edge of the door so that when you lock the door, you just take the hanging nail and insert it on both twisted nails.
But I could still hear her. The thought of it made me lean my forehead against the door, my one hand holding the nail lock. It took me a moment to recover and went on to take off my clothes.
The toilet bowl is a step away from the door. There’s a pail half filled with water standing beneath the dripping faucet, about a foot away from the bowl. There’s a string crossing opposite walls for hanging clothes. I hanged my clothes in the string. There’s a socket for a light bulb in the ceiling, but there was nothing in it but cobwebs. The only light entering the room are those coming from an opening above one side of the wall. But there was no enough light coming from it. At night it is so dark that we seldom use it if we can still hold ourselves.
The bowl is the size of my grandmother’s head. One night she used the toilet. When she reached for the pail to wash herself, she got up groping. She slipped. When we found her, we saw how her face went right into the bowl. Shit! Perfect fit! A couple of times before, I slipped on the floor too, but my head just hit the wall and the floor. It bled and it hurts, but I’m still alive.
I turned and stood there watching my bare self. I could still hear her talking. I could hear them both. Albert was complaining.
"You shouldn’t be talking to him like that, Aling Taleng."
"And why not?"
"We don’t even talk about it. You know how it feels."
"You don’t understand, hijo. Some things you just have to face…"
I opened the faucet and the gushing water silenced their conversation. It sent them to murmur and I did not have to listen to them. I started to pity myself. Some things I just have to face. Some things. I had wanted to turn off the faucet and went on listening to them talk, but I was too consumed by my thoughts. There’s a tabo on the floor beside the soap dish. There’s a slice of detergent bar on the container but it was all melted and deformed. I did the sign of the cross and started pouring water on myself with the tabo.
My thoughts continued. I would stop and rub myself and stare at nothing. I never blinked till my eyes hurt. I thought, maybe I was crying and I was just not able to feel it. If my eyes shed tears, it joined the water on my face and I wouldn’t know that I did cry. I think I did cry but I was not sure because I do not know what the tears are for. All I know is that something inside me was hurting.
After bathing, I dry myself up with my dirty clothes and put on the ones Albert brought for me. I stepped out of the toilet. Albert was scrubbing the floor while Aling Taleng was wiping the dusts off the windows and the furniture. Tony Boy just arrived and was still waiting for his task. The rugs, the coconut husks, the brooms, they seemed to know where everything was kept. When Aling Taleng saw me, she called on Tony Boy to continue what she was doing, and came up to me. Albert out of curiosity stopped with the scrubbing and followed her with a wondering look.
"Come here, Leon. I have something to tell you."
"What is it Aling Taleng?"
"I forgot to tell you. There were college students from the university who came here yesterday. They inquired about the house."
"The house? This house?"
"Yes."
I felt scared. I do not know any college student and I do not know what they want from my house. I had no idea what they came for. It sounded to me like the police came to the house.
"What do they want from the house?"
"I thought you have decided on taking in boarders? They saw your sign outside and they’re willing to occupy the rooms."
"Oh yes. I remember. What did you tell them?"
"There were three of them. Two boys and a girl. The two boys were the ones who came here yesterday. I told them to come back today. They are willing to pay two-hundred fifty pesos per person every month."
"Two-hundred fifty pesos? That would be-"
"Seven-hundred fifty."
"Seven-hundred fifty pesos? Every month?"
"Why, isn’t that enough?"
"No. No, I think that’s too much."
"That’s already a bargain, Leon. They usually charge higher than that. Anyway don’t get too excited. You will have to pay for the water and the electricity. You haven’t even paid your bills yet for last month. They will have to take care of their food, but you are going to have to clean up the house for them. You will have to replace those busted bulbs in the rooms, buy one for the toilet and another one for the kitchen, and another for the living room. Now, unless you change your mind, they are going to take the rooms. So, what do you think?"
I could not say a thing. I do not know exactly what to say. I do not know if this was one of those things that she meant when she said about some things that I have to face. It confused me. She’s looking at me straight in the eyes, waiting for my response. I thought she was waiting for my decision. It’s a strange sensation that I felt. I have never experienced how it was like to be in control over things, ever before. This was a lot more difficult than I thought. I looked at Albert, and Tony Boy, but they all looked at me with the same anticipating look. I was losing my face.
"I am willing to, but what am I to do?"
Then she smiled. A smile that, to me was too compassionate to be too concerned. She knew very well that I was beginning to feel confused, and I know somewhere in that smile, she was already taking advantage of any possible opportunity. She placed one hand over my shoulder and walked me to the living room.
"If you want we can make an arrangement."
"An arrangement?" Albert interrupted.
I remained quiet. Soon all three of us flocked around Aling Taleng, all ears to what she was up to say.
"Here’s what. We can tell them that I’m your aunt and that your parents entrusted you to me, including the house. So every month’s end, I would take responsibility in collecting their dues for you."
"But this is Leon’s house. He must receive the money." Albert said.
"You are too hot, Albert. Think. If he will come up to them for the money, they might just convince him to ask for it on a later date. You are very young and they might just manipulate the payment. They would ask for extensions until such time that you would forget. If I do the collecting, I could force them to pay on time and threat to eject them if they won’t."
"But the money?"
"I will give Leon the money after the collection. If you want, Leon, you can come with me when I collect the money so you can get it right away. But we have to deduct some amount for the bills of course. I will take care of the bills. When they move here, we will collect from them an advance payment for one month, then we could buy those light bulbs for the rooms."
I agreed to the arrangement, though at first I pretended to give it a serious thought. I know that I could never deny the offer anyway. I could not fully imagine how it was going to work, but somehow, it seemed to me like a big help. What bothered me was Aling Taleng. I had a lot of serious doubts about her. She was too good to be true.
I tried recalling how we got a long with her in the past. She used to invite us during special occasions in her house. She never hesitated to knock on our door with a big bowl on her hand whenever she cooks up her special delicacies. She’s a regular churchgoer and an active church member. Observes church holidays and got along well with my deceased grandmother. She’s a star on any activities organized by the church, most especially during May time when she would be Hermana Mayor and decides on the beautiful young girls to pick as sagalas for the culminating procession of the Flores de Mayo.
She’s the best when the occasion calls. But on regular days, she enjoys the reputation of being the root of all rumors revolving around the neighborhood, something that goes with her position being the treasurer of the Women’s Club. She could break a household and get two families to go against each other with her words. She did, but it was amazing how she always got away with it like she has nothing to do with it at all.
She goes to the market all dressed up like she’s attending a party. And the vendors couldn’t do anything when she decides on the price she had to pay for every fish, or meat or vegetable she bought from them, even if it goes way below the capital. All because she was regarded as the handmaid of the lord.
Between her and me, we never really had any serious verbal connections in the past, except the time when she told me that I was going to be the Constantino for the Reyna Elena. Then once when she scolded me for stepping on her potted plants when I climbed up their window to watch the Lone Ranger. At least she would always come to my rescue when my mother scolded me with a whip whenever I committed a mistake. I always cry out loud for her to hear me from her side of the fence whenever my mother exorcised my helpless soul. Then she would come up to our house and intervene.
She hated Victor because he comes from the slums. She hated the people of the slums, but she enjoyed the attention they gave her, especially when they gave her an admiring look when they find her walking on the street.
She hated my mother. My mother hated her. They hated each other. She calls her, oportunista. My mother calls her, atribida. She calls my mother, atribida. My mother calls her, oportunista. Crooks hate their fellow crooks. Lolo Ishmael told me that.
There was enough reason to doubt her goodwill. Lolo Ishmael once told me never to trust anybody, even the person next to me. In this case, the person living in the house next to mine. I remember Tony Boy’s father also mentioned to me about it. They say I will never know if the person next to me will be the very person to betray me. It’s been happening for ages, they say. It happened between Jesus and Judas. Jesus is God, so it would not be impossible that it was bound to happen among men these days. What gave me so much confusion though, was the thing about doubting. Lolo Ishmael said that when I’m in doubt, I should learn to gamble and go for it anyway. But Tony Boy’s father said otherwise, which was exactly what he did to Tony Boy and his education.
Anyway, I have decided on gambling with the chance and I found no way of turning back. The whole morning we all spent cleaning the house. Tony Boy and Albert decided to help in the morning, and carry on with our business in the afternoon. I could not leave the house in the afternoon because the boarders may arrive anytime.
I kept Lola’s belongings in a carton box and hid it under her bed. I also cleared up my room and transferred what little belongings I have into a small cabinet in the living room.
Aling Taleng went out, and when she got back, she brought with her a pack of naphthalene balls that, we scattered on the cabinets, the ceiling, under the beds, and on every nook and cranny of the house, to scare away the roaches. It must have been a tragic day for all life forms living in the house. We got rid of the cobwebs and must have collected over a dozen spiders. Over a thousand rats and cockroaches must have vacated the house, and a million mosquitoes gassed to death.
Soon the house was clean, though it still looked old. It bears the smell of naphthalene balls, the smell that will forever remind me of Aling Taleng. So that even if she would not be around, the smell would always remind me of what she did. I do not know though if she intentionally did it to constantly remind me of her kindness, but if she did planned it that way, it’s working perfectly. It scared me.
Aling Taleng went out again, and when she got back, she’s with a basket of food for lunch. I felt scared even more. Everytime Aling Taleng offered me a favor, I felt my utang na loob for her was becoming unbearable. I suspect, she was already thinking of something in exchange for all the favors she gave. She never allowed unreciprocated favors, I could tell.
After we had our lunch, Aling Taleng left us. We had the right opportunity to discuss things among ourselves. Albert insisted that I collect the money myself. It has always been his concern, even when Aling Taleng was still talking about it. Tony Boy was worried that I might not be able to join the scrap collection anymore. He thought Albert would eventually stop going with him if I quit. Albert does not need so much of the money we get for selling wastes. His mother sends them money from America. Now, I’m earning extra money from my boarders. He’s afraid he might just continue the job himself. Victor can’t go with him anymore either. He needed money to help his mother.
Our good minds are working then. Rarely do we get a good meal for breakfast, and we only settled for pan de Sal and water for our lunch. That day we had rice and viand for breakfast and lunch at the right time when every hungry mouth is supposed to have it. This was our lucky day.
We have discussed the idea that we cannot forever be kariton boys all our lives. The time will come when we would be landing our own jobs, where we get paid for the hours we’ve worked and not just for collecting and selling garbage, and it was forthcoming. It would not be long before the bakal boys would take on their separate ways. Victor was lucky to have gone there first. But until that day comes, we will still be roaming the streets. That gave Tony Boy the assurance that he needed.
It was a hot afternoon, and cleaning up a two-storey house was very tiring that my pals slipped off to sleep. I could not afford even a nap. I remained awake. I was starting anew with the three additional members of the house. I was thinking about how I would get along with these new faces. I thought, they must be intellectual people for having reached college. I feared that they may have a habit of going home, drunk, and would beat me up like my mother did. I only hope that they would not mind me so much, like my Lola.
I was thinking about the letter I sent my father. I wondered if it reached him, or if he was still alive. If he is, or they are, him and my brother, I wondered how they would react if I would tell my father that I allowed boarders in Lola’s house. I joggled a lot of thoughts in my head, Aling Taleng, my mother, my father, my brother, my friends, the police, the curfew, tomorrow, my life…
I kept on pacing inside the room. Then I pulled out a chair from the dining table and rested. I placed my hands folded on the table and allowed my chin to rest on my arms. I turned to my friends without turning my head and watched them in their nap. Albert was sitting on one of the small chairs with both feet on top of the center table. Tony Boy lay on the long chair with one feet hanging in the chair’s arm.
It’s been quite a long time since we found each other at the river Sol. Walked the way together every morning, going to the same school. Built the kariton since Victor quit school in grade three. From swimming almost every afternoon with all other kids in that river, until we hit the streets for our trade. It happened so fast and I have not even noticed that we have not been going to the river for a long time already. Whatever happened to our life then? A life so free, it disappeared and we did not even know that it has escaped us.
I thought of the past, while my eyes mirrored from them the person that I have become. They have grown big in length. Their bodies have grown to the shape that can no longer be identified with that of the little boys that we are when we jumped off the bridge and dive into the river Sol. The little boys have gone. We have grown. Then, I realized that we had long bid goodbye to our childhood.
It was past mid-afternoon when Albert and Tony Boy left the house. I watched them as they rolled off with the cart. I was alone in the house, waiting till I fell asleep. Aling Taleng woke me up when she came at around four in the afternoon. I went to the kitchen to heat water. I checked the gas tank and it was almost running out of gas. I stayed there until the water boiled, while she stayed at the living room the whole time. She was holding a fan made of dried palm leaves, but she was not using it. She kept on turning to the window. Looking at the gate, watching for signs of somebody coming.
Aling Taleng had already consumed three cups of coffee. It was almost dark but no boarders have yet arrived. . I asked Aling Taleng if she was sure they would come back, and she said, yes. I did not ask her anything more.
At about six o’clock in the evening, Albert and Tony Boy came calling from the gate. I went down as soon as I heard them. We talked for a while and they left. We started to hear the sound of sirens so they hurried off to be home before the curfew.
Minutes later, the boarders finally arrived. Aling Taleng went out immediately to meet them at the gate. I stood by the window and watched them on their way in. I counted two, I thought I just missed out on the other one because it was dark from the gate, going inside the house. But when they got inside, there were indeed only two of them, a man and a young lady.
"By the way Aling, Aling -"
"Taleng. Aling Taleng."
"Oo nga pala. Ah, Aling Taleng, this is Mira. She’s the one I told you. She will be joining us. She will be taking one of the rooms. I’m sorry we got here late, we just got out from class, po."
"Good evening po, Aling Taleng. I am so glad to meet you, po."
"I am so glad to meet you too, Mira. Julian spoke to me about you. Oh, look at you, you are such a fine young lady."
"The young lady smiled. She was such a fine young lady indeed, but Aling Taleng seemed to have forgotten about me.
"Come here. Come, take your seats, and relax yourselves. You two looked like you hurried your way here."
"Thank you po, Aling Taleng."
"Here, give me your bag, Mira. Sit down you two. Oh, by the way, this is my nephew they owned this house. I’m looking after him, but he will be looking after you. He’s staying here. His name is Leon."
"Hello Leon! My name is Julian."
“Hello, Leon. My name is Miranda, but you can call me Ate Mira."
I did not say a word. I just nod my head. I found myself a little distracted when they took a short moment to stare at each other when Aling Taleng said that I would be staying with them. It was as if something was said between them in silence. But nevertheless, I was overwhelmed by their gesture. They reached out to shake my hand. I was so happy. For the first time I felt like I was regarded like a big man. The lady, she’s beautiful. I kept staring at her.
"Where are your things? Are these all your belongings, Mira? Where is that young man who came with you here yesterday, Julian? What’s his name again?"
"Boyet. Boyet po, Aling Taleng. He’s busy with a lot of things right now, but he will be here tomorrow. I will be coming here with him tomorrow with the rest of our things. I will be leaving Mira here for tonight. She will be staying. The money is with her po. You can just get it from her."
"You’re leaving? But it’s almost eight."
"No need to worry about me po. I can take care of myself."
"But the curfew?"
"I know, Aling Taleng, but I have some important things to attend to. As a matter of fact I think I have to be going now. I have to go po. Don’t worry about me, Aling Taleng. Sige po."
"Susmariosep! You kids are always in a hurry!"
The guy hurried out, and the young lady quickly got up and followed him. Aling Taleng found herself rooted on the floor, in shock. The young lady closed the door when she got out. I could hear them murmuring to each other from behind the door. The lady seemed to be insisting on something, but the guy got off quickly, almost running on his way out into the street.
When she got back in, the lady reached into her pocket. She drew out a pile of folded bills, counted them before she handed it to Aling Taleng. Aling Taleng obviously pretended not to mind the money and immediately kept it inside her pocket. She started talking to her about the rooms and the busted bulbs, and promised her to have it replaced the next day. She then asked me to lead the lady to her room before she bid goodbye and left.
All the while I was just standing by the window, I almost thought I never existed. When Aling Taleng left, I guided the lady upstairs and showed her all the rooms. I never spoke about anything and only managed a short answer everytime she asked me a question.
She picked Lola’s room. She said she liked the view from the window, overlooking the street, and she liked the giant statues of the Virgin Mary and the two other saints. She laughed when she saw the keys that the statue of San Pedro held in its hand. She said it looked odd. I managed to smile. Then she was silent. She looked at me like she was studying my face.
"You do not talk so much, do you, Leon?"
"Huh?"
"You seemed to me like a shy young man."
I bowed my head. I felt embarrassed. She smiled again and I slowly raise my head back up. Then she opened her bag and pulled out something wrapped in a paper bag. I though she might want to change so I thought I should better be leaving her.
"Should I be leaving you now, Ate Mira?"
"No, wait. Have you had supper yet?"
"Not yet."
"Good, same with me. Here, take this with you back down please, Leon. I’ll just have to change and I will follow you in a minute."
She handed me the paper bag and I left. On my way down, I opened the bag. It contained two siopaos. When I reached the kitchen, I transferred the siopao to a plate. I waited for her until she descended with her house clothes on.
We ate the siopao for our supper, and talked until she decided that it was time to go to bed and rest to sleep. She spoke a lot of things to me about herself, and I answered all her questions about me.
I learned a lot of things from her about college. That was the only thing she spoke so much about. I never thought that there is a course in college as Theater Arts where they teach you how to act. She’s into it. She talked about how it was like to be a college student, and how I should someday go to college. I thought, it was amazing. She was, herself, amazing.
That night, when she went up to her room, I wrote another letter to my father. I wrote to him about my days without Nanay and how I have managed to survive. I told him about how I have grown from a young boy to a big man.
