Never Say Goodbye

NEVER SAY GOODBYE

By Rob Rubina

Paolo was sitting in front of his I-Mac computer and reading the latest incoming message in his electronic mailbox.  The glaring black letters blinked at him amidst a backdrop of colorful geometric computer graphics.  Meet me tomorrow at seven p.m.  SM Megamall.  Kamayan Restaurant.  I’ll come in a blue dress.   Excitement, anticipation, as well as fear, he felt all of these emotions as he contemplated on meeting Monica for the first time.  After two years of being aloof with the opposite sex, Paolo finally gave in.  This time, his first real date after the break-up was with the girl Monica from the chatroom.  But Monica is different from any other girl, she is not just a girl, she is an extraordinary girl!  Paolo thought to himself. If I can only be certain that Monica is different.  Monica, ah, that little witch, that little angel.  For the past two years, Paolo had given up hopes of finding true happiness.  His first serious relationship ended sadly when, for some unknown and undisclosed reason, his girlfriend left.  I just hope I wouldn’t be hurt again.  I hope Monica is deserving of the trust I had given her.

It was a slow April day when he first met Monica in the chatroom.  There were no clients to meet; no meetings to attend.  All reports were being handled by his pool of assistants. He had nothing to do except sit in front of the computer and plan when the received message icon on the screen appeared and started blinking.   At first, he thought that the ICQ message came from his boss.  ICQ was the only means of communication his immediate superior used in sending instructions from the States.    He clicked on the icon to see what’s the latest instruction from his boss.  He was surprised to find an unknown user and unfamiliar nickname sending him a message.

            “Hi there!”

            “Who are you?”

            “Monica.”

            “How did you get my ICQ number?”

            “Well, I found your name in the directory.  Your profile looks interesting. So, I want to chat with you.”

            Paolo never bothered to respond to such invitations.  Should he accept this one?  Chatting seem to be a foolish preoccupation.  He had heard of people who got addicted to “chatting” and he had no time to converse with total strangers.  But why not try it once?  He asked himself, why not.  Just this once.  He clicked on the reply button and commenced the chat session with the girl named Monica.

            “Hi.”

            “A/s/l?”

            “Sorry, what do you mean by asl?”

            “You’re new here?  A/s/l stands for age/sex/location.”

            “I see.  I am 27 years old, male, at the office.”

            “LOL.  Very funny.  Where geographically?”

            “LOL?  Are you swearing? “

            “You are really a newcomer to the chat really, LOL means laughing out loud J”

            “LOL…laughing out loud…I see! Manila here.  You, what is your “a/s/l”?”

            “22/F/Makati”

           

Paolo was not sure what came over him, but for three straight hours, he chatted with this female in cyberspace, and he was actually enjoying it!  It might be boredom that prompted him to accept the invitation to chat but it sure wasn’t boredom that kept him glued to the screen for the succeeding hours.  It had been two years since he had been with a woman and had almost forgotten how much fun it could be.  And this way was totally risk-free, pure anonymity.  No pain, that’s what he thought.

At 22, Paolo found out that Monica was an accomplished woman already.  A senior creative manager of a top advertising agency at her young age, Monica had been around the world shooting commercials and conducting research.  She returned to the country after graduating from UCLA to help her father manage and direct their advertising agency, the Studio.  Daniella should be around Monica’s age, mused Paolo.  I wonder where she is now.

            At exactly the same hour next day, Monica’s invitation to chat appeared again on Paolo’s screen.  He wasn’t expecting it.  Sure, the chat yesterday was great, but hey, let’s not do this regularly, thought Paolo.  He was planning to shut Monica off but her opening greeting surprised him.

“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them into our own image - otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.”

            “What?”

            “Surprised?  Don’t be…that’s my thought for the day.  Don’t tell me you haven’t fallen in love.”

            “But I did.  That’s why your made me think of her.”

            “What do you mean?  Come on, tell me.”

            Daniella de Cordova, the belle of the ball.  The most sought after debutante of the year.  In a simple midnight blue long gown adorned with diamond beads that shown like little stars, Daniella glided across the reception hall to receive her guests.  The night was perfect.  The moon was full, the garden was abloom with flowers.  The scents of roses and jasmine permeated the garden where her debut was being held.  Little lights adorned the walls and trees of the area.  Her six-tiered cake was located near the swimming pool at the end of the buffet table.  Perfect.  All I need now is an escort, sighed Daniella.  Looking over the heads of incoming guests, Daniella wished that indeed her best friend Andrea would bring his brother as escort.  Twenty-three year old Paolo had been Daniella’s crush ever since high school.  She and Andrea had set many plots to make Paolo notice her, but, for all their efforts, Paolo saw and treated Daniella like a kid sister.  He was affectionate but unromantic.  I told Andrea to be come early.  His brother would surely not see me as a kid sister anymore dressed like this, mused Daniella.  In a shimmering midnight blue dress, Daniella indeed came of age.  With her long shiny black hair festooned with blue roses, her hair falling sensuously on her off-the shoulder gown, and her face made up to look older, this was indeed Daniella’s night.  No other woman could compete with the glow of a girl coming of her age.  This is the night Paolo’s going to fall in love to me, vowed Daniella.

She had not long to wait when the giggling Andrea came into view escorted by her tall, dark brother, Paolo.    At first, Paolo was irritated being dragged from his computer to attend this birthday party.  Sure, this was Daniella’s birthday but it was not his crowd.  But little sister Andrea was persistent and she convinced Paolo that this was going to be the night he wouldn’t forget.  She also threatened to date one of her suitors instead if Paolo refused to escort her.  Never.  I promised mom and dad before they died from the car accident that I would take care of you little sister even if  you have to drag me to all your silly parties.

Not knowing that the night would change his life forever, Paolo methodically chose his outfit for the night.  He wore white slacks, black shoes and a crisply ironed barong tagalog.  Minutes later, he and Andrea entered the big ironed-grilled gate of the de Cordova’s residence.  Impressive.  This the first time Andre had the opportunity to visit Daniella in her own home.  It was always Daniella who came to visit Andrea.  At the receiving area, bearing their gifts, the siblings made their way to the front of the line to greet the celebrant.

He is here!  Daniella’s heart thumped against her budding breast.  Suddenly, she found herself in front of the man of her dreams.  Breathing the slightly spicy aspen cologne of Paolo deeply, she extended her hand as Paolo greeted her  “Happy 18^th birthday, Daniella.”  Who is this girl standing in front of me?  Surely, this is not the same girl who comes to our house almost everyday, wearing her ponytails, giggling and gossiping with my little sister.  Fully made up, Daniella such a lovely creature to behold.  With a twinkle in his eyes, Paolo squeezed Daniella’s hand in greeting, he felt a current rushing through him. There was electricity the two of them to instantly recognized their attraction to each other.  Andrea interrupted the moment by kissing Daniella on the cheek.

Throughout the night, and throughout the one year of their relationship, Paolo and Daniella had their eyes solely for each other.  It was the beginning of a year-long romance that seemed headed for marriage.  Paolo was inspired to better his career, and Daniella to further her studies.  Paolo dreamt of a blissful future with Daniella.

“Happy 10^th month anniversary Daniella.”

“You too, sweetheart…”

“I remember your birthday last year, you looked so grown up and lovely, I wish I could pluck the stars and offer it to you.”

            “Stop that, you’re making me blush.”

            “I love  you when you blush. You look really cute.”  From his pocket, Paolo took a box and handed it to Daniella.

            “What’s this?”

            “Open it.”

            With thrilling anticipation, Daniella open the box and saw two lockets with heart pendants.

            “I want you to wear this always.  And I’ll wear mine.  This heart symbolizes my love for you.  As long as I wear it, as long as it stays with me, it means my love for you is alive and burning.”

            “Oh I love you Paolo.”

Read Message

Inbox

From: "Monica Cruz"   Save Address  Block Sender

To: andremadrigal@mailcity.com

Subject: HELLO!!!!

Date: Wed, 12 May 1999 04:17:33 PDT

Hello Paolo!

Never say goodbye when you still want to try - never give up when you still feel you can take it - never say you don't love that person anymore when you can't let go.

I’m so sorry to hear that your relationship with Daniella didn’t work out.  That she never bothered to explain why she had to leave…but surely, she had her reasons. If what you are saying is true, Daniella is not the type of girl who will just abandon you without saying good bye.  Maybe, she didn’t mean to say good bye to you at all. 

Do you really want to say good bye?  Are you still in love Daniella or is it time to move on?

Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that you will be loved in return, just wait for love to grow in the other person but if it doesn't, be happy for the love you have given.

I’m sure she still loves you.

Ciao… see you in chat J!

Monica

“Thank you for your e-mail yesterday.  I’ve been thinking about the matter lately.”

“Don’t get too worked up over it…am sure, you’ll be ok.”

“I’m sure I’ll get to move on…with you.”

“Don’t start on me Paolo, you haven’t met me yet”

“So, let’s meet.  Name the time and place.  I’ll be there.”

“Let me think about that.  You might not like what you’ll see”

“Come on! Chicken?…!”

“Ok. I’ve thought about it.  Let’s meet.”

“So that you’ll recognize me, I’ll bring you a rose.”

“By the way, could you make it a blue rose, it is my favorite”

“A blue rose…okay.”

Read Message

Inbox

From: "Monica Cruz"   Save Address  Block Sender

To: paolocastillo@mailcity.com

Subject: I AM!!!

Date: Mon, 17 May 1999 8:17:33 PDT

I am not really an American girl. I didn’t grow up in the states but here.  I started college here in Makati but I have to finished it in UCLA.  When the opportunity came, I worked there.  But my heart is really here in Makati.  I have some unfinished business to complete.  I came back here to reclaim my happiness.  I just don’t know if he will ever see me again.  But really, all I want is his forgiveness.  I hope he will give me a chance…I was young then.  But I have changed.  I still love him.  I hope he can forgive me.

Monica

            “That guy you’re talking about, he would be a fool to let you go.”

            “He didn’t really had the chance to hold on to me.”

            “Why?  But still, am sure he would forgive you.  You’re a successful woman now.  What more will he ask for.  If I were him, I would forgive you and love you again.”

            “I hurt him terribly.  But every day and night, I think of him.  I really love him”

            “You still love him?  I hope my ex-gf loved me the way you do.”

            “I’m sure she did…and probably does.”

            “When are you planning to tell him?”

            “Soon.  By the way, are you ready to meet me in person?”

            “You don’t have to ask me Monica.  I have lots to tell you in person.  You have helped me go through life again…”

            “Paolo, tell me all those things when you see me…”

            “I think I am falling in love with you.”

            “Don’t say that.  you don’t know me that well.  Tell me that when you see me.”

            “Whatever you look like, am sure I will like you…now that I know how you think and feel.  Let me fill the emptiness in your heart like you fill mine.”

Read Message

Inbox

From: "Monica Cruz"   Save Address  Block Sender

To: paolocastillo@mailcity.com

Subject: ARE YOU REALLY READY TO SEE ME?

Date: Mon, 31 May 1999 18:17:33 PDT

Paolo, would you promise to me that if ever you won’t like what you’ll see, you’ll still talk to me. Can you promise that we will still be friends if things didn't work out for the two of us? Can you?

Meet me tomorrow at seven p.m.  SM Megamall.  Kamayan Restaurant.  I’ll come in a blue dress.  I’ll be seeing you.

Monica

            Why did Monica choose June 1?  That was Daniella’s birthday.  It was also the day Daniella left for the States without saying goodbye, the day Paolo’s world collapsed.

            Paolo looked good that June 1.  He was all ready to set all his plans to action.  He would be picking up Daniella at her house at 4 in the afternoon.  They would go to church to give thanks.  A light snack at the coffee house at 5 p.m.  After that, a movie called Ghosts to set the romantic feeling for the night.  Then, on their reserved dinner at Kamayan, their favorite restaurant, he would propose.  The diamond ring nestling on his trousers pocket had been picked up a week ago.  He was mulling over his proposal two weeks ago.  He is financially stable and Daniella would be graduating this semester.  They could set the wedding on December, there would be lots of time for the wedding preparation.  They could now start living together and fulfilling their dreams -- big house, two kids, a boy and a girl, and everyday a moment of togetherness and love.

            Paolo rang the doorbell for 5 minutes but there was no response.  Where is everyone? Paolo wondered.  He was shaking the big-ironed grilled gate when the security guard of the house came out.  Sorry sir, the family just left for the states last night.  Yes sir, including Miss Daniella.  That can’t be!!!! I just talk to her yesterday afternoon.  I’m sorry sir, but nobody’s here.  Their flight was last midnight bound for California.  Dazed, Paolo threw away the bouquet of blue roses he was planning to give Daniella.   What did I do wrong?  Where are you Daniella?  Why did you do this to me?

            For one year, Paolo was devastated.  He didn’t eat, sleep and socialize for six months.  He nursed his pain with a bottle of whisky.  The day begin and end with him on his bed.   It took him a while to recover.  But his former happy go lucky demeanor was transformed into a tight-lipped withdrawn mien.  Andrea and his friends did everything to cheer him up but to no avail.  Paolo was a changed man.

            Promptly at 7 p.m., Paolo walked towards the entrance of Kamayan, the restaurant where he planned to take Daniella and propose two long years ago.  Ah, he didn’t forget the blue rose.  Finding a flower shop that have stocks of blue roses was a difficult task for Paolo, but because he wanted to show how serious he is, he even went to a Batangas flower shop that specialized on roses just to buy a single blue rose.  The blue rose will be my symbol of sincerity, of trust and acceptance.  With the single stem of blue rose, he walked with a certain bounce that betrayed his excitement.  There was a lady in a blue dress at the far back of the room.  Her back was against the door, Paolo could not really make out her figure.  Her hair was long and black, just like Daniella’s.   Why did Daniella suddenly popped into his mind.  No.  Daniella doesn’t exist anymore.  This is Monica, the girl who taught me to believe again.

            Feeling somebody was watching her, Monica slowly turned to face the entrance of the restaurant.

Is this for real?  Are my eyes playing tricks on me?  Paolo held on to the chairs for support.  Standing in front of him was the only woman he loved.  How could he forget her face?  Two long years is not enough to erase her memory from his mind.  Those lips that uttered romance and were always silenced with deep passionate kiss, that oval face, that angelic face.  That long black hair.  And blue!  Of course blue was the favorite color of my beloved.  How could I forget!  Two long years was not enough to let go of Daniella, to take her out of his system, his heart.  Two long years was not enough to erase the memory of the girl he loved.

            Daniella rose and smiled uncertainly.  Their eyes locked.  Paolo saw the entreaty there to accept her, to give her a chance to explain.  Her eyes mirrored all the pain and loneliness, the guilt she bore ten long years.  Her eyes held all the answers to his questions…if he would only give her a chance.  Paolo was numbed.  Standing in front of him was his first love…his dream, and also Monica, the woman from cyberspace he had learned to like.  Seeing them both in front of him.  He loved Daniella, that was true, but he had learned to love Monica too.  He was paralyzed with indecision.

            “Hello” Daniella broke the silence, how are you.  Paolo turned to leave...he was too distraught, overwhelmed with all of this.

            “Wait.  Can’t you just give me a moment to explain?”

            “What is there to explain?” Paolo breathed heavily.  “You forfeited your chance to do that ten years ago.”

            “But I have changed.  I still love you, that’s why I came back…”

            “Yes, you did change.  I don’t know you anymore.”

            “You said you had forgiven me.”

            “I didn’t know it was you Daniella.  I was chatting with Monica.  You are not her.”

            “But I am!”

            With quivering voice and eyes downcast, “I’m sorry” said Daniella.

            “Sorry?  But saying sorry is not enough.  Twice now you have fooled me.  This doesn’t ease the pain I’ve felt for two years.  You’re like, the dead come alive!  Why do you have to come back?  I just buried you.”

            “Please let me explain…”

            “Just tell me why.  Why.”

            “I was young then, I was afraid.  It felt like, we were going too fast.  I can’t handle your demands anymore, I felt I need space to breathe. “

            “Shit.  You could have told me.”

            “I was afraid to hurt you.  I know I was wrong.  I was meaning to tell you about my leaving, my needing space but I chickened out.  I was afraid how would you react.”

            “Shit.”

            Daniella winced.  She knew what she did was wrong.  She had hurt the only man she ever love. 

            “I was going to call you but I was afraid you would get mad.”

            “And you think, after two years, I would forget?  And that using a different name in the chat room would change all that?”

            “But I have changed!  But I am still the Daniella that loved you.”

            “Yes, you are still Daniella.  The Daniella that betrayed me.”

            “Let me try again.  Please.”

            “I don’t know.”

            Paolo looked at the woman standing in front of him.  Memories flashed back through his mind like a movie.  Paolo and Daniella walking along the beach.  Sleeping under the stars.  Eating dirty ice cream at a rock concert.  Holding hands in the movies.  Sitting in the park.  Petty quarrels, the kiss and make-up part.  That first passionate kiss.  Endless talks on the phone.  Sleepless nights.  Sweet dreams of Daniella.  And of course, the betrayal.

            But this is not Daniella, but Monica too.  The day at the chatroom.  The three-hour chats almost everyday.  E-mails.  How could I reconcile the fact that Monica is Daniella?

I loved you Daniella.  I learned to love you too Monica.  But I can’t reconcile the two of you as one…now.  Daniella taught me to love but hurt me, Monica had taught me to love again…I don’t know.

            Daniella, hurt and dejected turned to leave.  If Paolo ever calls me back, if he calls my name now, I swear I would make it up to him.  I would love him and vowed never to hurt him again.  If he calls me back, I would know he has forgiven me.  Please God, let him call me back.

Paolo watched Daniella walking away.  As Daniella neared the door of the restaurant, Paolo called out tentatively.  “Daniella…” No other words sound sweeter than Paolo uttering his name.  With tears falling down her cheek, Daniella turned around and rushed to Paolo’s waiting arms.  Silently, Paolo looked at Daniella with somber eyes.  He looked down and from deep inside his shirt, he took out the heart-shaped pendant.  Seeing this, Daniella took her heart-shaped pendant out and looked at Paolo for confirmation.  It was two years ago, but both of them remember the promise they had made that night.  And tonight, with renewed hope and love, they stared at each other’s eyes lovingly and vowed to keep their promise this time.

            “I want you to wear this always.  And I’ll wear mine.  This heart symbolizes my love for you.  As long as I wear it, as long as it stays with me, it means my love for you is alive and burning.”

At the Back of the FX

I got into the FX at around 12 midnight. Fortuitously, I was the last passenger, no need to wait for the FX to fill up. Good, I was so tired from an overtime work and I hadn’t had dinner yet. I looked forward to the comfort of luxuriously relaxing on my bed, then falling asleep fitfully until the following day. The back end of the FX was cramped, but it was ok. I would rather sit there than at the middle, I didn’t want to be squeezed like a sardine. I sat comfortably, but the only way I could do that was to insert my legs between the legs of the passenger in front of me. Well, what the hey, I wanted to get some nap all throughout the trip and I guessed the other passenger; a him, wouldn’t mind at all. So, subtly, I worked it out. His right leg, then my left leg, his left leg, finally my right leg...his left leg (thigh for that matter) is between my legs now. I was not in the mood to flirt, I was never in the mood to flirt for that matter because I didn’t know how. I would rather find a text mate, or go online and find a chat mate. Probably because I was conservative, or just I didn’t want to make the first move, or deeper still, I was afraid to be rejected. And why would I flirt? Where would it lead? I didn’t want to get into a situation I wouldn’t be able to handle; ha ha, it was short of saying, I didn’t want a relationship just yet!

All throughout the ride, I could not sleep. It was 12 mn, there was no one to text, so I simply indulged myself in my usual pre-occupation during long trips; study my fellow passengers. I looked at my right, this one was too old, the other guy in my front is so fat. Finally, my eyes rested on the guy in front of me, the guy who I has criss crossed my legs, whose thigh was sandwiched with mine.

Oh my, wasn’t he cute? I wondered why I wasn’t able to notice him right away...maybe because the FX was dark, or maybe because I was too pre-occupied to get a doze and sleep. Nevertheless, he was cute so I gave him my full undivided attention. He looked tall, because our legs meet, unlike the other two at the back, their legs wouldn’t even touch. He had this boyish look, a lock of hair falling on his forehead. I had the sudden urge to push it back, but of course I didn’t! He had smooth skin... no pimples there, that is always a turn on to me! He had his polo barong undone, so I could also notice his chest. He was not thin, medium built most likely.

I guessed I was staring at him for so long because he gave me a certain look. Well now, I didn’t want to cause any scene, so I looked away. But I still feel his eyes boring on me so I looked back. Damn, what did his look mean? Is he flirting? How should I know? Why should I make the first move? Come on, as if I really knew how to do this.

But a tiny thought nagged at me. Why not? You wouldn’t see him again, so why not give in to this bit of craziness. If he responded, then go for it, if not, well, you were not really into that.

I never considered the time factor when travelling in the deep of night. There was no traffic, so I was already nearing my stop. The most that I need was squeezed his thigh between my legs and he didn’t even react. He probably took it as an accident because it happened when the FX hit as pothole.

Sayang, I thought to myself. He could be it. It meaning the one person that I would see myself growing old with. Some person I would do things with like watched the sunset together in a beach, stargaze at the park or wait for sunrise at the top of a mountain. He could be the one I would like to see first thing in the morning and my last call at night. He could me my home, where I would feel safe and secure. He could be my lover for crying out loud! We will cook together, eat together, wash dishes together, take a shower together, make love all night long! On a rainy day, we could just hold hands and lazxe the day away on the couch watching cartoons and classic movies, or lie in bed reading our favorite books. We could play scrabble, or he could teach me how to play chess. He could be my gallery companion, going to museums, or my duet partner when I sing-along at videoke bars.

Sigh. But I do believe in fate. I mean, if he was the one for me, he would be. We would meet no matter what the circumstance. But then again, if I don’t make a move, all will be lost. He could only be the one guy that could have been my life, the one I would offer my successes, the one who would share with me my life’s adventure. He could have been.

I made a compromise with myself. If we get off at the same stop, I would make the first move and introduce myself. Why does it have to be like this? Here was my one chance and yet I am hesitating. He looked decent and presentable naman. I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with (he he, the question is, he might be the one be embarrassed to be seen with me). But still, I made a promise to myself. If and only if he gets off at the same stop as I am, then and only then would I make the move.

And he did get off at the same stop. Shucks, I could not back out of my dare. I got off first. I told myself, if he overtakes me, that’s it, or if he didn’t, I would chicken out. There you go, I was still afraid to try. Funny thing is, I was never given the chance. He walked right beside me and matched me stride by stride. Well, I guess he would be receptive for a casual talk after all. So, I mustered all my guts and blurted, “You going my way?” Duh, a good opening line... “It looks like it” he said. Good. “I am Paolo by the way, you?” “Call me Adan.”

Post Script: I wrote this as soon as I got home, unedited.

It's A Wonderful Life: The Story of Us Prelude

I have been thinking... is change good?

Love Story

Author's Note:

The first part of this story was published at IMAGE MAGAZINE last 2003.

IN DREAMS



In dreams, we come in full circle…
In dreams, nothing is impossible…
In dreams, love grows and withers…
In dreams, love goes on forever.

Dolores Liu
Born April 15, 1880
Died October 4, 1976

It was past midnight when Paolo finished unpacking his belongings. “Not bad, not bad at all. This place would suit me fine. This old room would be conducive to my assignment. With this kind of environment, I think I could finish the painting in half the time.” The house where Paolo would be staying for the next six weeks was an old Spanish house in Vigan, Ilocos Sur. “This is perfect.” The beach was just around the corner of the house and the garden, although it looked like it has not been taken cared of for years, were perfect backdrops for his painting.

“I’ll start my painting tomorrow,” Paolo said to himself. Even the room looked old and very Spanish. The bed was still supported with four posts; the windows made up of capiz and the wall, composed of wood. What was so prominent in the room was the big old oval mirror that faced the door. About Paolo’s height, the full-length ornate mirror could reflect almost the whole content of the room. Too tired to change clothes, Paolo fell asleep immediately.

The house was very quiet. I do hope mama is asleep already. It has been three days since I last visited the garden…my garden. I missed these roses. Ahhhhhh, to smell their fragrance as they bloom is reward already for my three- day confinement. I don’t regret answering mama back. I don’t really like Arnulfo. If only I have someone to share this garden of mine. I don’t like to share this with Arnulfo, that small wrinkly Chinese my mama would like me to marry. I don’t like him. I wish papa was here. I am sure papa would not like his little girl married to a sickly looking Chinese.

Later this evening, as I was brushing my hair at the window overlooking the garden and preparing for sleep, I saw this stranger in the garden. He seemed so out of place and confused. But what is he doing in my garden? He shouldn’t be here! I had to go down the garden and confront the man. Who does he think he is?

“What are you doing here?” I asked the man.
“I think I am lost…” said the strange man.
“Obviously you are mister. Could you leave my garden? I don’t even know how you got here!”

The strange man was wearing an unfamiliar outfit. It was rather odd to see a man dressed so out of place here. He was probably in his twenties. Tall, mestiso and quite well built, I assumed he was a foreigner but not Spanish. All the Spaniards were leaving the area. If he was a Spaniard, the new kapitan would immediately arrest him. What with the war against Spain finally over, the Castillans didn’t have any reason to stay. But this stranger was mestizo…he might be one of the new breed of white people, the Amerikano. He was probably lost on his way to the plaza where most of his kind was staying. But he didn’t have the built of a soldier.

“Yes, I am lost miss, can you tell me where I am now?” asked the man.
“Aha! What are you doing wandering in the night, going into other people’s garden, and here you are asking me where you are right now? Well sir, for your information, you are in our garden, at calle de Caridad, where are you going?”
“In fact, am not sure miss. I don’t even know if I am supposed to be here.”
“You ARE not supposed to be here! This is MY private garden!”

I know I was being rude to the man, but I could not help it. What was more annoying was, I think he found me amusing! I see his smile playing at the corners of his lips and his eyes twinkling. Whatever. I am not going to fall for a stranger.

“Well, I think your garrison señor is a block from here. You could probably use the next street, calle de Soledad to take you to your base.”
“Base? No, I don’t belong to any base. Actually, I think I was drawn to this place because of the roses. It was a first for me to see more than a dozen roses abloom at the same time.”
“Well these are my roses. Thank you for noticing them. Now could you please leave before I call for help? You are tresspassing young man.”
“No, that is okay…”

And like a dream, when I was picking some roses for our altar, when I turned around, the stranger was not there anymore. Who was he? What did he want? Why did he leave so suddenly?

Paolo woke up with a start. What a very vivid dream. Immediately, he went to his art supplies and started setting up his canvas. I would like to capture that dream, that one very moment. Fleetingly, he smelled the scent of roses as he unfolded his canvas on his easel. But when he started to draw with his brush, all he made were strokes of dark blue against the very whiteness of the canvass. Frustrated that his dream left his consciousness so fast, he went to the window to smoke. It will come in good time.

Looking over from the window, he could see the beach around the bend beckoning to him to take a plunge and swim. Underneath the window was the garden run wild with weeds and grasses. I think this is the garden I dreamt about last night…am not sure though. Anyway, I have no time to speculate when I have so much more to do.

Paolo was reading a classic historical novel about the Spanish-American war in a rocking chair in front of the big ornate mirror in his room when sleep overtook him at around midnight. Probably, he was too tired from the whole day cleaning, arranging and looking around the house he could easily fall asleep.

He was here again early this evening. I don’t know what he wants! I was pruning my roses when, suddenly from nowhere, this strange man appeared around the corner. Come to think of it, he didn’t look that foreign to me now. With eyes as light as a young balsa wood and hair with light brown tint, it’s no wonder I mistaken him for an Amerikano… but when he approached me, he spoke in the dialect and I knew for sure, he is a native. Perhaps, he was one of the creoles. Mama wouldn’t let me out of the house and the only man she wanted me to see was Arnulfo. This is my opportunity, even if, mama had warned me not to talk to strangers but for once, I would talk to this man, although he is stranger to me. It was quite unnatural for me to talk to him and be with him tonight. But who cares?

“It’s you again. Don’t do that again, will you!”
“Do what?”
“Popping from out of the corner, scaring the chickens out of me!”
“Did I scare you?”
“Not you, the way you just appear…”
“You have very beautiful roses, almost but not quite, as beautiful as you.”
“You sure do knows how to make a woman blush don’t you?”


I felt myself blush then. Who was this man who came here all of a sudden? Who was this man that makes my pulse run wild and my heart beat faster? Mama would get angry at me if she saw me talking to a stranger. I turned to leave. I should not be here seen talking to a man. Was this how a Filipina should behave? I should never be kept alone with a man…much less a stranger.

“Wait…” he said, “Can’t I even know your name?”
“Why? I don’t know you. I think it would be more courteous if you introduced yourself first. And by the way, this is MY garden.”
“Okay, okay! I am Paolo. And you are?”

“Dolores.” Paolo was not sure who Dolores was but as he woke up, it was this name that kept on echoing in his mind. “Dolores? Now I am bothered.” Throughout his adult life, there had never been a time a woman’s name invaded his sleep. “I will not accomplish much if I stay here and muse about a girl’s name I haven’t really met.” Today was the day Paolo would be meeting the owner of the house to discuss his stay at the old Spanish mansion. “Maybe if I get to know the history of the house, I could come up with an inspiration.”

“Mrs. Liu? Thank you very much for letting me stay in this house.”
“No problem, hijo, just finish the painting my husband commissioned you to do…”
“Could you tell me something about this house madame?”
“Well, according to my husband, Danding, he inherited this house from his great-grandmother. His lola lived for a long time in this house. This was built for more than a hundred years ago and has withstood the wars that ravaged Vigan then.”
“Have you seen the garden hijo? It used to be the pride of the clan when Danding’s lola was still alive. Nobody’s garden could be compared to the roses that bloomed in this garden. Among all the houses here, this was the only one untouched by the Japanese when they burned this village.”

Later that afternoon, Paolo started making sketches for the commissioned painting. Mr. Liu would like to have a painting depicting the house in all its glory, probably set during the post-Spanish era but definitely not during the American occupation. According to Mrs. Liu, it was during that period, 1899, that the house was frequently flocked with so many admirers, natives and locals alike. The garden would be the centerpiece.

“What are you doing here?” I asked the man as I approached him sitting on a bench near the grotto. “You just don’t come here every night!”
“I am not sure Dolores, I am not sure. But every night, I felt drawn to this garden and hoping that I would see you. Every night I come here, and thank God, every night I see you.”
“Were you spying on me?”
“I am only here to admire you and look at you, nothing beyond that.”
‘But I don’t even know you…you are but a stranger to me.”
“I am a stranger in this place and time Dolores. But with you, I do not feel lost…”

“Paolo, you don’t know me…”
“That’s is why I am here, to know you. The first time I saw you, it’s as if I belong to you and you belong to me.”

Should I encourage him? There had never been a man in my life. For all my eighteen years of existence, my parents had kept me hidden. I could not even go out, I had no friends except perhaps my yaya. And now, I was arranged to get married to Arnulfo, the man I do not even know or care to know about. Finally, when I felt that I have no more hopes left, Paolo came into my life.

It had been a month since I first saw Paolo. My dream, my lover, my beloved. The nights I spent with you could last me a lifetime. Even if we just talked, even if we just meet for just a few hours every night. I look forward to seeing you Paolo every night. I want to be free with you Paolo, to see your world.

“Who is she?” That was the first question that came to Paolo’s mind. “Who was this girl that haunts my sleep?” Immediately from bed, as if guided by invisible hands, Paolo started drawing strokes on the canvas. After an hour of intense concentration, he was taken aback with the picture he had drawn. Long black hair nestling in an oval shaped face. Eyes the color of almonds, nose nicely shaped. Lips so red, hiding a trace of smile. A dimple on the left cheek, a small mole on the chin. Nicely shaped eyebrows, thick and long eyelashes. Who was this girl of my dream? Paolo had drawn a girl sitting on a bench near the grotto. The girl was dressed in an old-fashioned patadyong. She was wearing wooden shoes and was holding a bouquet of roses on her lap. She was smiling, as if posing for a camera. In her eyes, Paolo could see the happiness and hope for the girl. Who was she?

I have fallen in love with a man I barely knew. He comes to me every night like a dream. If only Paolo could save me from an unhappy future, but what is his power compared to fate?

“I will be married to Arnulfo this Sunday. I do not love him.”
“Where I go, you cannot follow…but in my heart, you will always be here.”
“But I am getting married this Sunday!”
“If only I could take you with me…if only we could be together. But even fate conspired against us.”

With a heavy heart I said goodbye to Paolo. I was not even sure if I am gong to see him again, perhaps. But before he left, he gave me one very important thing. He gave me a ring. He said that this ring would forever be our symbol of love. He gave me love and a chance to love truly.

Paolo woke up with a start. His heart beating wildly, his pulse running wild. He was drenched with sweat. As he fumbled for the light switch, he dragged himself upright. As the lights turned on, he looked at the mirror and felt his haggard face. What is it? I feel that something bad has happened. Looking at his hands, he was amazed not to find his college ring in his middle finger.

Today I died. I was married to Arnulfo, the man my mama wanted me to marry but I don’t love. Today my heart is taken from me. Is this how love must be?

Mr. Liu came that afternoon to check on the progress of Paolo. Paolo had set up his easel in the garden, near the grotto to get the full effect for his painting. Mr. Liu excitedly waited for Paolo to take off the white cloth that covers the painting. As he did so, Mr. Liu could not help but exclaim his surprise. The old Spanish house was painted brand new. The capiz windows were all new. The setting was early evening. Stars were just starting to come out and the moon was half full. The garden was the centerpiece of the house and was proudly drawn in bloom.

“Where did you get that? How did you get this painting done?”
“What do you mean Mr. Liu? Don’t you like it? What I painted was what you had in mind. I feel that I captured the spirit of the house.”
“You did hijo, you did. You captured the house in its golden age, you captured the garden in its bloom. But what amazes me, how did you able to draw my Lola Dolores?”

Dumbstruck, Paolo did not know how to answer. I just did.

“My Lola Dolores never looked so happy than I remember. I had never seen her really smile. I think she never loved my Lolo Arnulfo. They only had one child, my father. My father told me that the garden was my lola’s favorite part. She was always here taking care of the roses. That bench was my lola’s usual place. It is the place where she told me and my other brothers stories of the war. It was also the place where she chose to spend her last days here on earth.”

Mr. Liu had left the house with the painting. He was so amazed at what Paolo had done, right then and there, he commissioned him to do the portrait of him and his wife.

Paolo got back to his room and slowly sat down on the rocking chair in front of the oval mirror. But it was all a dream…it was never true. But as Paolo looked at the mirror, he remembered Mr. Liu last words before he left.

“According to my lola, this is where she found her true love, her life. She started living when she first met the man she loved, and here she died when her love left her. She never told us what happened, or why her love left her. For years, everyday, lola Dolores stayed here hoping that her man would come back. She really loved the guy, she was willing to leave my lolo for him, if ever he comes back. And you know, what my lola’s last words in this garden was?”
“What?” Paolo asked, fearing the words that would Mr. Liu would say next.
“Let me see, it was October 4, 1976 then. I could not really forget that day. Lola and I were here at this garden, just sitting on this bench. I was ten years old then. My lola was taking a nap, when suddenly, her eyes flew open and she sighed.”
“He’s here now. I can now rest in peace. My love has come back. I am happy now.”
“I don’t understand my lola, at 96, I think she was quite senile already. But that night, my lola died with a smile. It was the only time I saw her really happy.”

Paolo was at a loss. How could it be true, how could it happen? It was all a dream! October 4, 1976 was my birthday. How could it be me?

The next day, Paolo started packing. As he looked at the mirror, he saw his dreams played back. Was it really a dream? Slowly, he felt the mirror as if to test its authenticity. As if my magic, he was drawn by a vision.

Today, I don’t like to live…I have died when Paolo left me…but as long as I live, and forever, I vow that I will only love one man. This I swear. With this knife, I will draw my own blood and use it to sign this journal. I think I shall never write again…I hope someday, my scions will get to know what really happened. In this journal, I entrust my feelings and all the moments I shared with Paolo. When the right time comes, somebody in the future will get to know what happened. Somebody special will find this book behind this mirror.

As Paolo turned to leave, he heard a sudden clink of metal. There was his college ring under the oval mirror. It was his ring and yet it was not. It was as if the ring had aged one hundred years, tarnished with age but when he looked at the writings inside, his name was engraved in it, Paolo Cervantes. As he bent to retrieve the ring on the floor, he noticed that the oval mirror is not really fitted on the wall. Curios about it, he felt for the space between the oval mirror and the wall. In it, he felt leather. He took it out and realized it was a book. With a heart beating wildly, he slowly opened the book and read the first entry.

October 4, 1899

The house was very quiet. I do hope mama is asleep already. It has been three days since I last visited this garden…my garden. I missed these roses. Ahhhhhh, to smell their fragrance as they bloom is reward already for my three- day confinement. If only I have someone to share this garden of mine.

Paolo gently fondled his college ring and whispered a name, Dolores. But you have shared the garden with your one true love, Dolores. I will come back here Dolores and take care of your garden, our garden. Your past is my future. I will see to it that your love for me will not go to waste. It was never a dream Dolores, it was never a dream. Fate cheated us. She denied us time and space, but fate could not withhold our feelings for each other. You are my beloved, Dolores. Wait for me.

After hours of commuting from the Vigan house, Paolo immediately went to bed as soon as he got home. Thinking that he could leave behind the confusing experiences he had in Vigan, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

He was at the Liu’s mansion once again. He saw himself drifting towards the garden where the girl that haunted his dreams sat comfortably on the garden bench. The girl said, “You think you could easily get away from me? After finding you, I wouldn’t want my love to slip my grasp.” He knew that in the few weeks he stayed in that house, he loved the girl even if it was a fantasy, a dream. But this cryptic remark left him with a hope that their love would find fulfillment in this lifetime.

Jackie just arrived from the States after wrapping up a business deal for the family. She was excited, for the first time, she was going to have a luxurious and well-deserved vacation this time in her ancestral home in Vigan. She had been hearing so much about the rest house that she finally capitulated in agreeing to have a vacation there. More than that, she needed a rest from dreams plaguing her for the past weeks. In her dream, she was a witness to a love affair not meant to be.

As soon as she arrived at the mansion, she was surprised to see the house well treated. She was impressed that after all these years, the house was in great condition. She roamed the garden and was amazed with the abundance of roses abloom in the garden. With the many rooms in the house, Jackie chose the one overlooking the garden. The room was simply decorated and the only furniture aside from the four-posted bed was a full-length oval mirror. According to the caretaker, this was her great-grandmother’s room when she was a teenage girl. After unpacking her things and taking a hot shower, Jackie fell asleep.

She saw herself observing a scene between two people. She felt that although the couple was barely touching each other, they were intimately in love. She heard the woman say, “You think you could easily get away from me? After finding you, I wouldn’t want my love to slip my grasp.” She didn’t hear the reply of the guy because he suddenly vanished. She didn’t exactly see the man but as she looked at the woman intently, she was surprised to see herself.

Jackie woke up with a start. The dream was so vivid, she could even smell the roses. She went to the open window and look at the garden. Definitely, this house gives me the spooks! Maybe I should go back to Manila.

In Manila, her mom and dad were already preparing for a welcome back dinner. When they found out that Jackie would be returning in a few days time, they put no stops in preparing for the dinner party. Mr. and Mrs. Liu were of the singular agreement to invite Paolo, the artist they commissioned to do a painting of their house in Vigan.

Paolo was reluctant to accept the dinner invitation. Although it had been months since he finished the commissioned painting, he was unsurprised that the Liu’s invited him. He knew that Mr. and Mrs. Liu were very kind to include him in the invitation, but the truth was, he was still confused with what happened to him in Vigan. When he finished the commissioned painting, he was both glad and saddened with the outcome. He was glad that the Liu’s like the painting he did. He was not happy to leave the house, for even in dreams, he had a glimpsed on how loved must have felt.

As soon as Jackie arrived back in Manila, she went to the mall to do some shopping. I need a new dress for tonight’s dinner. While walking along the shopping mall, she happened to pass by an art gallery. She was mesmerized with the paintings exhibited there. Lush blooms of roses, roses and moonbeams, oddly enough, she somehow felt that the paintings were familiar, as if the every painting was bit a piece of a larger picture. She was so enamored with one of the paintings that she didn’t notice the man slowly approaching her.

Paolo just arrived at the art gallery where a couple of his most recent paintings were exhibited. His fellow artists, the curator and the gallery owner were quite surprised with the theme of his exhibit. Usually, Paolo painted people as subjects, but this time, most if not all of his paintings were of roses. Although Paolo deviated from his usual forte, his paintings were well received. In fact, a couple was already sold.

As he entered the gallery, he was caught unprepared to see a woman standing in front of one of his paintings. With long black hair almost brushing her waist, her slender build, she somehow resembled the woman of his dreams.

Feeling that someone is staring at her, Jackie turned and came face to face with the man she saw in her dream in her stay in Vigan. Mesmerized with each other, the two stared across each other as if they were the only people in the gallery.

“What are you doing here?” Paolo broke the silence.

“I’m here because I have to be here,” said Jackie. As if waking up from a dream, Jackie shook herself. “I saw the paintings, I was curious and decided to take a look.”

“I painted them.” Paolo said. I painted them with you as my inspiration, but how could you be here? You are just a figment of my dreams… and even if you are real, how could you look like the girl of my dreams?

“They’re really beautiful, but I have to go.” Jackie left the gallery with confused feelings. Paolo can only look after her.

The following night, the Lius celebrated Jackie’s successful trip abroad and her return from a well-deserved vacation in Vigan with dinner with some close relatives and friends. The couple noticed Jackie’s pre-occupation but shrugged it off. Knowing Jackie, they thought she might be itching to go back to work the following day.

The doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of another guest. Being nearer to the door, Jackie opened it. Standing at the other side of the door was no other than Paolo with a bouquet of red roses. Surprised, but deep in her heart, Jackie had been waiting for Paolo for the rest of her life. Seeing Paolo standing in front of her brought back the memories of her dream in Vigan.

Mesmerized, Paolo stood transfixed upon the vision of her dreams. When the Lius invited him to dinner, he accepted with reservation. The painting he did for the Lius was one of the best, if not the best commissioned painting he did. Now, his painting, his dreams all came alive in the flesh.

The situation was too much of a coincidence. Suddenly, from the inside, Jackie’s parents were ushering everyone to the living room for a surprise. Mr. Liu was holding a covered canvass.

‘Last month, while Jackie was in the States, I commissioned a painting of our old house in Vigan. My wife and I were fortunate that Paolo accommodated us to do this painting. Imagine our surprise when Paolo finished the painting in just under two weeks, what’s more, he also painted the likeness of my aguela so well. My daughter Jackie never met her great-grandmother. If she did, she would have met one of the most interesting people. More than that, she resembled my lola. So, in honor of my daughter’s successful trip abroad, we are presenting her with this painting. A painting of her lola that we believe, have they met, they are kindred spirits.”

As Mr. Liu took the cover off the canvass, everyone gasp as they saw the figure. A beautiful lady was depicted in the painting holding a bouquet of roses. As they turned towards Jackie, except for her modern clothes, she just looked exactly like the woman in the painting. Still holding Paolo’s bouquet of roses, she stepped forward to take a closer look at the painting. As she touched the canvass, a flitting memory kindled on her mind, the last words of her dreams. This is my legacy to you my child, a legacy of love. In your time, you will meet one person that is pure of heart. He is your soul mate. Love him, for he loves you already without knowing it.

Across the crowded room, her eyes locked with Paolo and knew that finally, love has come her way.

One Story

SUMMER OF CHANGE


“Pol! Pol! Come outside and let’s hang out!” cried Vicky. “Pol! Come on, the other kids are in the field now, they’re waiting for us!”

The big wooden door opened a crack and Pol’s sweating pale face appeared. His eyebags were hanging, his bangs plastered on his forehead and his ears red, with his thin mouth pouting, Pol snarled “I can’t…I can’t go out and play now. I have something more important to do today.”

Why not? It’s not hot yet!” Vicky insisted. “Are you sick?”
“No, I really can’t. Don’t be makulit. I’m going to the river with the boys.”
“Can I go too?”
“NO!” and Pol slammed the door.

What’s wrong with him?” Vicky said to herself as she moved away from Pol’s fenced bungalow house. “Fine. I’ll go and hang out with the other kids with or without Pol…”

School just closed a week ago and the kids of Sta. Monica were enjoying the summer vacation. Trips to the lagoon, swimming at the river, playing patintero in the ricefields, taguan at night, playing house at Mang Inggo’s mango tree, Pol and Vicky were inseparable not only in these days but since they were five years old when Pol moved in Sta. Monica and their family bought the house next to Vicky’s. It was Vicky who first befriended Pol by inviting him to come over her house and play with their dog Tagpi.

Pol was really looking forward to this summer because next school year, he would be a freshman student at St. Benedicts High School, and being a freshman would give him more freedom to go out with his friends to trips to the new mall outside of the town. Moreover, the EVENT that would change his boy life will happen two weeks from now. Pol felt a mixture of dread and excitement as that fated day drew near…he had heard different tales and received many advises from his cousins that had experienced this special event that would mark him as a man now.


“Do I really have to do this?” Pol asked his father after they had a long talk a week ago.
"But of course son! You’re not a sissy are you?” said Mr. Mendoza.
“I am not!” Pol said vehemently. “If the other boys would do it…I would too! But Tay, tell me why I should do it.”
“Pol, it’s a ritual among all males. If you don’t do it, you are not a man! And son, the circumcision is a healthy thing, more hygienic.”
“Why nga?” insisted Pol.
“Pol, in a week’s time, Mang Inggo will sharpen his balisong and will cut off that foreskin of yours, and stop this asking. You will be circumcised because all the Mendozas are circumcised!”

“But why should I wear a skirt after that? I would look silly in a dress, and if I wear that, wouldn’t that make me a sissy?”

Exasperated, Mr. Mendoza explained once more that the skirt should only be worn for a week until the wound has healed. “You shall be wearing a skirt so that you can move around with ease. Okay? Now go out and play, and don’t disturb me anymore with your silly questions.”


“Father said I should be circumcised next week.” Pol confided to Vicky right after his talk with his father.

“What’s circum? Circum what?” Vicky asked.

“Circumcision dummy! Tuli! You know, every boy has to do it to prove they are ready to be a man!” croaked Pol.

“But you are still a boy Pol. Even if you do whachamacallit to your uh, you are still a boy, skinny, lame and stupid. Why, would you now grow a mustache just like Mang Indo?” snickered Vicky. “ or you’ll court girls just like my Kuya Ramon?”

“Court girls! Yuuuuuuuuck! You know I don’t like girls, they’re gross!”

“POL! I am a girl!” Vicky said indignantly.

“You are? Uh, I never noticed. But you are different…”

“How different…by the way, why are you croaking?”

“You have so many questions…”

“and what’s that on your lip? Looks like you’re growing a moustache!”

“Basta! Come on, let’s go to the field, the gang must be there!”

While walking to the field, Pol noticed some blood trickling down Vicky’s legs. “Oh my God Vicky you’re wounded! There’s blood on your legs! Are you hurt?” Pol exclaimed in a rush, worried that Vicky was somehow hurt. Vicky looked down on her legs and realized that something was indeed happening to her. Confused, she ran all the way home leaving Pol staring after her.

“So Pol, that’s the reason why I cannot play with you anymore…” said Vicky.
“What? Why not?”
“Coz am a lady now… I cannot run with you guys and play patintero. I have to be prim and proper. Of course you can always visit me here…”
“That’s no fun Vicky…”
“Well, I guess in time Pol you would understand…”
“Yeah right…”
“Isn’t it true that you will be circumcised next week? You just told me that once you are circumcised, you become a man…same thing with me…”
“But that’s next week pa. Can’t we play now?”
“Sorry…in a few weeks time, we will not be playing anymore. We will do other grown-up things…”
“Come on Vicky, why are you acting like this?”
“Pol, you would understand…ok?”
“Bahala ka!”

Pol went home more confused than ever. Would I be different whether I’m circumcised or not? Will my relationship with Vicky changed just because she had her period and I would be circumcised? On the night before the operation, Pol was having some doubts. Maybe I am going to get sick tomorrow…prayed Pol the night of his operation. I don’t think I can make it alive tomorrow.

The following day, Tito, Mang Inggo’s assistant was at the river with the boys instructing them about the operation.
“You have to be immersed in the river for more than an hour,” instructed Tito.
“Why? I would get goose bumps staying that long in the river!”
“Well, you have to! You have to stay there that long to soften the foreskin, ok? Then, as soon as you are ready, get off the river, dry yourself. Chew a handful of guava leaves…then, go to Mang Inggo. Are you guys ready now?”
A murmur of yes, and some looked really afraid.
“Guys! It’s just like an ant biting you! Come on! Off to the river with you!”
After an hour, Pol and the rest of the boys decided that it was time. They would rather do it together or not at all. At the sight of the boys entering his backyard, Mang Inggo went down to the chopping board and started lathering his balisong knife.
“Quit pushing around!” shushed Mang Inggo. “Who wants to go first?”
“Come on! I don’t have all day!”
I have to get this over with. Okay, I’ll be the first one, thought Pol.
“Okay, I’ll do it first,” volunteered Nito.

Blood. If there was anything that Pol remembered before he passed out was, there was really a lot of blood. He was all prepped to be the first one when Nito volunteered. He was now so nervous. Agonizingly, he waited until he heard the whack of Mang Inggo’s knife and Nito’s scream. Sweat poured down his face and armpits. And when it was his turn, standing there in front of Mang Inggo with his crooked grin, Pol’s clammy hand shakingly held his penis. Mang Inggo harshly commanded Pol to pull out the foreskin. Mang Inggo inserted a bit of bamboo stick between, and said, “When I said spit, spit out the guava leaves, ok?”
WHAM!
Spit!
WHAM!
Blood!
Pol saw stars before he passed out.

Fortunately, it wasn’t only him who passed out. A few minutes or so, Pol and the rest of the boys limpingly jumped to the river to clean their wound.
“Aint it nice boys!” Tito said jokingly, “you have to take good care of your junior now… bathe it everyday with boiled guava leaves and dress it up! And remember! Wear a skirt until it heals ok?”

“Pol! Pol! Come out now and accompany me to the market please!”
Pol’s sweated face peered from behind the door, “I can’t”
“Why not? Yesterday, you stood me up! You would rather hang out with the boys at the river”
“I had an operation...”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t know that...”
“Of course you don’t! You were busy with your girl friends!”
“Well, we have lots of things to do...”
“Go away!”
“I won’t. What was your operation?”
“I was circumcised, remember?”
“Can I see? Can I see?”
“Vicky!”
“Come on, just a little peep. Please?”
“Moooooooooooooom! Vicky won’t go away!”
“Shush. Crybaby!”
“Oh My God!!!! Pol’s wearing a skirt!”

Pol slammed the door shut and cried.