1/22/08
ENSHROUDED
Philippine copyright © 2007
By Von Fritz Guillen Evangelista
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author.
Published by VFE Prints Enterprises
________________________________________________
This novel,
despite of it’s masculine essence,
is dedicated to my mother,
my very first barber
who promised me chocolates
if I would behave
while she cut my hair.
________________________________________________
A barber (from the Latin barba, "beard") is someone whose occupation is to cut any type of hair, give shaves, and trim beards.
p r o l o g u e
ALK Barber Shop was the best in Villamonte, if not, in the whole Bacolod City.
The shop, located at the ground floor of Mariposa Building, could have a total of 70 costumers a day, maximum of a hundred. It was owned by Mr. Condrado Gonzaga, an ex-marine, who began the business in the late 80s. From wooden chairs, cemented floor, and webby ceiling fans, the shop evolved to a modernized one with high-tech seats purchased from Taiwan, tiled floors, and Kelvinators for ventilation.
“It’s not the atmosphere…it’s more than that…” a customer once commented. “I feel relaxed as I talk to the barbers. They’re nice and accommodating.”
That may be the result of how Mr. Gonzaga dealt with his workers. When he’s kind with his barbers, the barbers were also kind with the costumers.
For the past twenty years, many barbers had worked with ALK. Mostly men, since there were a couple of menopausal women who once applied to cut. Mr. Gonzaga was kind with his employees, giving them their salaries on time and, if the business all throughout the year wasn’t that bad, he gave Christmas bonuses. The only reason why barbers would leave the shop was aging. Some died, some retired, some settled with their families.
The year was 2006 and ALK had six barbers. Of the five pioneer barbers hired by Mr. Gonzaga when ALK was but an ugly structure at Mariposa Building, only one was left in the shop still working: Ferdinand. He was in his mid-60s, a fat man with hair the color of ash, and smoked 20 sticks of cigarettes per day. He was Mr. Gonzaga’s asset in the shop, being an expert at different male hairstyles. Employee he was but the employer gave him much respect.
Voltaire, 32 years old, cut the best barber’s cut among the six. He had been with the shop for four years. At first glance, one would recognize the enormous protrusion of his abdomen.
Ben, 30 years old, was the joker. He loved to wear black and he usually went to work with swollen eyebags. His expertise was semi-kalbo, as he was the favorite barber of ALK’s costumers aged five and below.
Cesar, 26 years old, was cocky. Ben called him ‘Tisoy’ while Voltaire called him ‘Macho Papa’. Yes, he was good-looking. But then his vanity was beyond limits. He wouldn’t leave the mirror until he fixes a hair strand which is out of place on his heavily-gelled coiffure.
Jimmy, 25 years old, could have the most number of costumers for a day, competing with Ferdinand. A thin man with a colored hair, he was at times teased by his fellow barbers as gay. He moved feminine and he had the neatest cubicle in the shop. He would just laugh though when being teased. He knew himself more that any of his friends.
Youngest of the six was Bong, 21 years old, who was a college dropout. He was often mocked by his costumers after noticing that their girlfriends were flirting with him. Well, who could blame the girls? Bong was a Pinoy version of Justin Timberlake.
Chit, the only woman at work in the barber shop, however, was not a barber. Mr. Gonzaga hired her to be the receptionist, cashier, and overall janitress.
ALK would open at 8 in the morning. As the sun rose into the zenith and until the door said ‘closed’, the unceasing sounds of scissors and electric razors were the only music inside the famous barber shop.
ALK Barber Shop was the best in Villamonte, if not, in the whole Bacolod City.
The shop, located at the ground floor of Mariposa Building, could have a total of 70 costumers a day, maximum of a hundred. It was owned by Mr. Condrado Gonzaga, an ex-marine, who began the business in the late 80s. From wooden chairs, cemented floor, and webby ceiling fans, the shop evolved to a modernized one with high-tech seats purchased from Taiwan, tiled floors, and Kelvinators for ventilation.
“It’s not the atmosphere…it’s more than that…” a customer once commented. “I feel relaxed as I talk to the barbers. They’re nice and accommodating.”
That may be the result of how Mr. Gonzaga dealt with his workers. When he’s kind with his barbers, the barbers were also kind with the costumers.
For the past twenty years, many barbers had worked with ALK. Mostly men, since there were a couple of menopausal women who once applied to cut. Mr. Gonzaga was kind with his employees, giving them their salaries on time and, if the business all throughout the year wasn’t that bad, he gave Christmas bonuses. The only reason why barbers would leave the shop was aging. Some died, some retired, some settled with their families.
The year was 2006 and ALK had six barbers. Of the five pioneer barbers hired by Mr. Gonzaga when ALK was but an ugly structure at Mariposa Building, only one was left in the shop still working: Ferdinand. He was in his mid-60s, a fat man with hair the color of ash, and smoked 20 sticks of cigarettes per day. He was Mr. Gonzaga’s asset in the shop, being an expert at different male hairstyles. Employee he was but the employer gave him much respect.
Voltaire, 32 years old, cut the best barber’s cut among the six. He had been with the shop for four years. At first glance, one would recognize the enormous protrusion of his abdomen.
Ben, 30 years old, was the joker. He loved to wear black and he usually went to work with swollen eyebags. His expertise was semi-kalbo, as he was the favorite barber of ALK’s costumers aged five and below.
Cesar, 26 years old, was cocky. Ben called him ‘Tisoy’ while Voltaire called him ‘Macho Papa’. Yes, he was good-looking. But then his vanity was beyond limits. He wouldn’t leave the mirror until he fixes a hair strand which is out of place on his heavily-gelled coiffure.
Jimmy, 25 years old, could have the most number of costumers for a day, competing with Ferdinand. A thin man with a colored hair, he was at times teased by his fellow barbers as gay. He moved feminine and he had the neatest cubicle in the shop. He would just laugh though when being teased. He knew himself more that any of his friends.
Youngest of the six was Bong, 21 years old, who was a college dropout. He was often mocked by his costumers after noticing that their girlfriends were flirting with him. Well, who could blame the girls? Bong was a Pinoy version of Justin Timberlake.
Chit, the only woman at work in the barber shop, however, was not a barber. Mr. Gonzaga hired her to be the receptionist, cashier, and overall janitress.
ALK would open at 8 in the morning. As the sun rose into the zenith and until the door said ‘closed’, the unceasing sounds of scissors and electric razors were the only music inside the famous barber shop.
b o n g
Bastard. Richard Hinolan was fated to be such.
His mother, Luisa Hinolan, feard the day that his son would ask her who his father was. She loathed him, her son’s father. It was a memory not deserving of recall.
“Nay, my classmate was fetched this afternoon by his Dad at school,” her son finally asked Luisa when he was in kindergarten. “What about my Dad? Do I have one?”
Damn! I never thought he would ask this early. “You have, Bong…” Shall I tell him that the son of a bitch is dead? “Uhmm…your father is…” No, he might get mad at me when he learns the truth. “…He’s just around.” Sighs.
“Around?” Bong said curiously.
“Uhoh...he’s just waiting for the right time…he’s shy you know…”
“Shy?”
“Yes, Bong. Some fathers are shy to show up to their children. They fear they might not look like the same with them.”
“His name?”
“His name is Jose.”
“Okay.” And the young Bong never asked his mother again.
Two years later, when Bong was about to enter grade 1, he asked his mother again about his father.
“Nay, is my Tatay shy so much? I won’t be mad at him if we don’t look the same.”
Damn! He’s getting curious. But I’m not yet ready. “Uhmm…your father is…” If I tell him he’s a bastard, he might become his classmates’ laughing stock. “…Well…he’s uhmm…he’s a abroad-”
“Abroad?”
“YES. Sorry Bong, I wasn’t able to tell you earlier…I thought you wouldn’t understand…”
“But Nay, if Tatay is abroad, how come I don’t have chocolates and huge robots…just like Rey…his father is in Taiwan…”
Stupid child! Think Luisa…alibis…alibis… “You will have soon! Your father went to Dubai just last month…he might not be having his salary yet.”
“Yehey!” And Bong jumped liked he had won in a marble game.
The next month, Luisa’s salary was drained from buying Toblerones and original Transformer toys. Damn! For the sake of lying. But I have to do this…
She showed Bong a picture of his father for the first time. That picture belonged to her diseased relative.
Six years later, Bong finished his elementary education. He got to ribbons on their commencement exercises: Most Helpful and Boy Scout of the Year.
“Boy Scout of the Year, Richard Hinolan…” the emcee called. Bong went up the stage with his head turning from side to side. He was expecting his father. Where is he? Nanay said he would come and pin me the Boy Scout of the Year ribbon.
To Bong’s disappointment, it was his mother who went up the stage.
“Nay…where’s Tatay? I thought-”
“Bong…sorry…” Luisa explained as she pinned the ribbon. “The airplane was delayed…your father might not come…”
His special day was ruined.
Later that night Bong had no appetite when he and his mother were having a dinner at Nibble’s Snackhaus.
“Bong? Anak, what’s wrong? Finish your spaghetti…it’s getting late.”
Bong remained silent.
“Bong! Be happy…tis your graduation…” Luisa knew why her son was sad. She was trying to cheer him up without opening a topic about his father.
“I hate him,” Bong talked at last.
“Who?” No…not again…
“Tatay. I thought he would really come…and that I could see him for the first time…”
“Bong-”
“I curse him. He’s a coward. I don’t want to see him again.”
“Bong, I think it’s time that you should know the truth about your Tatay.”
At that moment, Nyor was envigorated. “What truth?”
“You’re father’s sick.” What disease? Think Luisa…uhm…Cancer? AIDS? Leprosy?
“Sick? He’s sick? Since when?”
“Since his first year in Dubai…I dunno…it’s a rare disease…his skin is terrible…he’s so thin…”
Bong’s anger towards his father suddenly turned to pity. He felt worried. “Did he send a new picture? Where is he then?”
Luisa had diaphoresis. She was feeling guilty of her new alibi. “No picture…you’re father won’t let us see his condition.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s in Australia, seeking medical assistance.”
“I’ll pray for him.”
Entering Caningay National High School opened a new world for Bong. After surviving the intimidating puberty years, Bong turned into a beautiful man that every girl would crave for. He was the ultimate campus crush.
It was also in CNHS that he met his only barkada, the ‘G. melina Boys’, named after their favorite tambayan below the G. melina trees.
“Pre, Jenny has a crush on you,” Larry told Bong one afternoon at their tambayan.
“Naks! Another one?” Lando quipped.
Hans, who was on the curved branch of a G. melina tree, suddenly jumped to the ground and said, “Too much, Bong! Give us the others!”
Bong just smiled.
“I heard that you screwed Carla already?”
“No way!’ Bong finally said. “I didn’t even spoke to her after he treated us banana cues.”
“Ows?” Larry and Hans chorused.
“That girl? She’s a pimple who evolved into a face.”
And the four laughed.
On weekeneds, when they had nothing to do or had exhausted themselves playing basketball, the barkada would stay at Lando’s uncle who was a barber. It was there that Bong learned how to cut hair. At first, he was just observing. But as time passed by, he mastered the use of scissors and comb and began cutting his friends’ hairs for free.
Bong never inquired his mother about his father all throughout his high school life. He never asked about the progress of his treatment or whether he’s going home at last or not. But during his graduation day, he finally asked his mother which ignited a serious fight between them.
“I know you’re father will be proud of you, Bong…” Luisa told his son as she fixed his toga.
Bong laughed sarcastically. “Whatever,” he replied.
Luisa was hit by his son’s sarcasm. “What did you say? Say that AGAIN!”
“I said ‘whatever’…I mean…I don’t care.”
SLAP!
“RICHARD, YOU’RE GETTING RUDE! IS THAT WHAT YOU GET WITH YOUR BARKADA?!” Luisa was furious. Her makeup was ruined as she began to sweat.
“Come on Ma…let’s stop pretending…I’m tired of this…”
“…YOU’RE TIRED?! RICHARD, I’M THE ONE WORKING FOR YOU! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! SO TELL ME…YOU’RE TIRED OF WHA-”
“OF YOUR LIES!”
That silenced Luisa.
“I’m tired of them mother…I’ve been silent for the past years and to hell with it! You’ve been keeping my father away from me…”
“Bong, anak…your father…”
“He’s abroad? He’s sick? No calls? No letters? Isn’t that obvious?” Bong pretended calm. Deep inside he wanted to explode.
“Listen Richard…I’m sorry…”
“There’s no need to be sorry Ma…I’m not mad at you…It’s just that I feel deprived of having a father…”
“YOUR FATHER FORSAKEN ME! AND HE…HE HAD DISOWNED YOU!” At last! Point of no return…
Bong was speechless as his mother revealed to him everything.
“I worked as a maid,” Luisa began. “I fell in love with the son of my employer, Jose. I thought he loved me…something happened…when I got pregnant, he denied me… I was forced to leave…”
Tears were leaking from Bong’s eyes. He pitied his mother. Now I understand. “I’m sorry…Nay…” He hugged his mother.
“No Bong, I should be the one saying that…I should have told you earlier…I was afraid…”
“Don’t worry mother. I will forget about this…and my stupid father forever…”
“Anak-”
Bong hugged his mother tighter. “We’ll have a new life…I will be an engineer, right?” He chuckled.
“Oh…I almost forgot…it’s your graduation!”
“Yeah Nay, and we have 30 minutes to fix ourselves.”
An hour after, Bong was receiving his medal for being the third honorable mention.
Bong took up Electronics and Communications Engineering at the Technological University of the Philippines (TUP-V) with a DOST scholarship. He was desperate to finish his studies and alleviate the status of their lives. But then he had to be away from his mother. From a being a mountaineer in Candoni, he became a city boy as he studied in Talisay City.
What’s good with TUP-V is that, the students will no longer encounter problems with regards to having work after graduation. The university looks for their jobs. Some could work at giant companies in Manila, and some could even reach Japan.
Like any other engineering courses, Bong had to endure five years in ECE. He could quit school after three years and be entitled as a technician. But he promised his mother an engineer status.
It was culture shock for him, not that he was now living in the city but because the university was full of masculine race. What for is my being gwapo? In TUP-V, the few girls were divided into four: a) pretty girls who got rich boyfriends; b) nerd girls who had no time to flirt; c) girls who looked like boys; d) girls who have penises, preferably called, girlalets.
Bong: hans…hws lyf, pre? Hws lasal?
Hans: Bong! I’m fyn. Ei…2 mny hot grls hir…
Bong: envy u. hir, only fagots
Hans: wahehe
He did screw a girl in TUP-V. But then, it only turned Bong’s life upside down. He was on his second year. A friend invited him for a wild party at his house.
“Richard, more beer?” his classmate offered Bong.
He had finished five bottles of Colt 45 already. Bong was having a slurred speech as he replied, “Sure…thanks…”
Then his classmate had a follow-up. “And hey, this is my high school classmate, Diana…” A tall girl appeared in front of Bong. He could hardly focus her face courtesy of his blurring vision. “She’s in TUP-V too…but she’s into chemicals…”
Someone from the dancing crowd screamed, “Go Richard! Diana has a crush on you…”
“Hi…Diana…”
As Bong greeted, Diana seductingly sat on his lap and began caressing his face.
“Richard Hinolan…hmmm…let’s try if you’re really delicious…”
Diana then kissed Bong torridly. The guy was weak. It was the last thing he could remember.
He woke up on a bed naked. He didn’t know whose room was it. He had hangover. Rotations and revolutions. He wanted to vomit. He felt so bad. He felt worse seeing a sleeping girl naked beneath the blanket.
Shit! What have I done?! I go to go…I will be dead if this bitch gets pregnant!
He put on his pants and fled as soon as possible.
Bong had become paranoid. He never stayed in the university that much. After dismissal, he would go to his boarding house immediately. He was avoiding Diana. He could sense it that the girl was after him. Why did I drink too much that night? Argh!
He was eating in the canteen one afternoon when doomsday came.
“Hi Richard!” It was Diana. She caught him at last.
“Oh…Hi…mahaw…”
Diana sat on the chair beside him and said in her seducting voice, “Thanks…but siopao isn’t enough for me…”
Bong was sweating. He had no way to escape. He was trapped. “What do you want to eat then? Just choose, I’ll buy it for-”
“YOU!” Diana went closer to Bong and continued speaking in whispers. “…I wanna eat you…your mushroom, your eggs, your sausage…I wanna drink your protein-rich milk…”
Bitch! She’s got me. If only I can kill her! Bong moved away from Diana. He looked from side to side making sure no one was looking at them. “Diana…please…”
“You’re hiding from me, aren’t you? You thought you can escape me?”
“Diana…I…what are you talking ab- whoa…stop…” Bong was stunned feeling Diana’s hands cupping his crotch.
“What am I talking about? Did you forget? We enjoyed that night…”
“I DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Diana replied still touching Bong’s perineal area beneath the table. “You were delicious…
Bong couldn’t tolerate the embarrassment anymore. He finally stood up and said, “I’m going.” As he put on his knapsack, Diana’s last words reverberated in his mind.
“You should be buying bottles and rattles by now. You’re going to be a father.”
Dear Nanay,
Nay, I have some bad news. Before I reveal it to you, allow me to say my sincere apology: SORRY NAY, I’M VERY VERY SORRY.
I quitted school, almost a month already. I didn’t fail in any of my subjects. I did something which I know would break your heart. I made a girl pregnant.
It was a mistake which I totally regret. We had a party at my classmate’s. I was drunk and this girl came in the scene. I was weak. I couldn’t remember what happened.
The girl’s name is Diana. She lives in Bacolod. She stopped schooling also since her stomach gets bigger. She’s an orphan already. Her only sister working in Singapore supported her. She has no plans of telling her sister yet about her condition.
Nay, as a man, I want to face my responsibilities with her. I want to be a father to my baby. Diana’s giving birth three months from now. I want to give my child something which my father failed to give me.
I’m sorry to disappoint you. I know you really want me to become an engineer but fate had been unkind. But let’s look at the brighter side…you’ll be a lola.
I’m looking for a job right now, getting ready for my family. And I had to pay the apartment where we moved in recently. Maybe I should continue my ECE course someday. In the mean time, as this is the situation, I really have to quit. I hope you understand.
Again, I’M VERY VERY SORRY.
Your son,
Bong
Dear Bong,
I forgive you. And I appreciate your honesty. I want you to know that I am happy for you. I’m VERY VERY PROUD OF YOU!
My dream of you becoming an engineer may wait. I know God has plans. Don’t mind me, I’m living a simple life here in Candoni. I’m still working at the municipal hall and I might be promoted for the Mayor’s Office this month. Just pray.
You know what, when God takes something, He gives back something more. I can’t wait to see my apo! Tell me if Diana gives birth coz I might visit you there in Bacolod.
I once feard that you would become exactly like your father. I’m glad you’re not like him.
Love,
Nanay
Bong found it difficult to look for a job that could support him with Diana pregnant. Applying for a salesboy wouldn’t be enough. It was the lowest time of his life. He realized how hard it was to look for money. If only he had reached third year and graduated as technician, he could have had a job already. But he quitted a sophomore and that’s the consequence.
At first, he loathed Diana for bringing him in such a situation. He wanted to commit suicide when she revealed to him her pregnancy that afternoon in the canteen. But with the advice of Larry, his friend who had entered the seminary, he called Diana for a serious talk which settled everything. Diana, after all, wasn’t that bad. In fact, she belonged to those girls who were nerd and had no time for boys. It’s just that she was crazy in love with Bong that’s why she began behaving such. Funny it was what love could do. The nerd transformed to a bitch.
Diana didn’t want to tell her sister abroad that she got pregnant. She didn’t want to disappoint her. She would tell her soon probably, but not now. Even though she had stopped school already, her sister was still sending her money thinking it would go to tuition. Diana kept the money for the apartment rental and in preparation for her childbirth.
It wasn’t difficult, on the other hand, for Bong to love Diana. At first, he just decided to live with her because of responsibility and not affection. But love is a force of nature. As time passed by, Bong was beginning to think that Diana’s the prettiest woman in the world.
Their son was a boy. They named him Ricky.
He found hope while he was in Villamonte one day. Bong was walking by the Mariposa Building after buying Ricky’s milk at Lopues East when he saw ALK Barber Shop with a poster outside saying, “WANTED: BARBER”.
His memory of Lando’s uncle’s barber shop flooded his mind. I know how to cut hair.
Bong inquired immediately. As he entered the airconditioned shop, a fat old man approached him. “Haircut sir?” the old man asked.
“No. I would like to inquire about the advertisement outside…that you need a barber here?”
“You come back tomorrow,” a man with a huge stomach quipped. “Mr. Gonzaga had just gone out. You can talk to him tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” As Bong went out, a man with a humongous belly entered the shop.
“By the way…bring biodata…” the old man said just before Bong closed the door.
The next day, Bong went back to ALK with his biodata. He arrived at the shop around 9am.
“Good morning,” Bong asked a sturdy man inside the shop. The old barber whom he talked yesterday was busy with a customer. “Is Mr. Gonzaga here?”
“I am Mr. Gonzaga.”
Bong had goosebumps. “Oh…good morning sir…I’m Bong and I came here yesterday to apply as a barber…”
“Do you have your biodata?”
“Yes sir.” He handed the folder he was holding.
“Okay. Come here.” They went on a corner at the far end of the shop where there was a table with a receptionist. “Chit, will you keep this please.” The short woman with a curly hair received the folder and placed it on a drawer without reading it.
That’s it? I slept late last night typing that damn biodata and they wouldn’t read it?
“Okay…so Bong, what kind of cut do you cut?”
“Uhm…well, I can do barber’s cut, semi-kalbo, flat-top, military-”
At that moment, a pretty girl of Bong’s age came in.
“Dad, let’s go! I have a class by 10,” the girl said.
“Wait, I’m interviewing an applicant,” Mr. Gonzaga replied.
“But can I talk to you for a second…puhleez…”
“Okay. Bong, please wait.” Mr. Gonzaga stood up and followed his daughter in a corner. They talked for two minutes. Then his daughter went out.
Mr. Gonzagawas laughing as he returned to Bong. Then, to the applicant’s surprise, he said, “You’re hired. You can start working tomorrow.”
Bastard. Richard Hinolan was fated to be such.
His mother, Luisa Hinolan, feard the day that his son would ask her who his father was. She loathed him, her son’s father. It was a memory not deserving of recall.
“Nay, my classmate was fetched this afternoon by his Dad at school,” her son finally asked Luisa when he was in kindergarten. “What about my Dad? Do I have one?”
Damn! I never thought he would ask this early. “You have, Bong…” Shall I tell him that the son of a bitch is dead? “Uhmm…your father is…” No, he might get mad at me when he learns the truth. “…He’s just around.” Sighs.
“Around?” Bong said curiously.
“Uhoh...he’s just waiting for the right time…he’s shy you know…”
“Shy?”
“Yes, Bong. Some fathers are shy to show up to their children. They fear they might not look like the same with them.”
“His name?”
“His name is Jose.”
“Okay.” And the young Bong never asked his mother again.
Two years later, when Bong was about to enter grade 1, he asked his mother again about his father.
“Nay, is my Tatay shy so much? I won’t be mad at him if we don’t look the same.”
Damn! He’s getting curious. But I’m not yet ready. “Uhmm…your father is…” If I tell him he’s a bastard, he might become his classmates’ laughing stock. “…Well…he’s uhmm…he’s a abroad-”
“Abroad?”
“YES. Sorry Bong, I wasn’t able to tell you earlier…I thought you wouldn’t understand…”
“But Nay, if Tatay is abroad, how come I don’t have chocolates and huge robots…just like Rey…his father is in Taiwan…”
Stupid child! Think Luisa…alibis…alibis… “You will have soon! Your father went to Dubai just last month…he might not be having his salary yet.”
“Yehey!” And Bong jumped liked he had won in a marble game.
The next month, Luisa’s salary was drained from buying Toblerones and original Transformer toys. Damn! For the sake of lying. But I have to do this…
She showed Bong a picture of his father for the first time. That picture belonged to her diseased relative.
Six years later, Bong finished his elementary education. He got to ribbons on their commencement exercises: Most Helpful and Boy Scout of the Year.
“Boy Scout of the Year, Richard Hinolan…” the emcee called. Bong went up the stage with his head turning from side to side. He was expecting his father. Where is he? Nanay said he would come and pin me the Boy Scout of the Year ribbon.
To Bong’s disappointment, it was his mother who went up the stage.
“Nay…where’s Tatay? I thought-”
“Bong…sorry…” Luisa explained as she pinned the ribbon. “The airplane was delayed…your father might not come…”
His special day was ruined.
Later that night Bong had no appetite when he and his mother were having a dinner at Nibble’s Snackhaus.
“Bong? Anak, what’s wrong? Finish your spaghetti…it’s getting late.”
Bong remained silent.
“Bong! Be happy…tis your graduation…” Luisa knew why her son was sad. She was trying to cheer him up without opening a topic about his father.
“I hate him,” Bong talked at last.
“Who?” No…not again…
“Tatay. I thought he would really come…and that I could see him for the first time…”
“Bong-”
“I curse him. He’s a coward. I don’t want to see him again.”
“Bong, I think it’s time that you should know the truth about your Tatay.”
At that moment, Nyor was envigorated. “What truth?”
“You’re father’s sick.” What disease? Think Luisa…uhm…Cancer? AIDS? Leprosy?
“Sick? He’s sick? Since when?”
“Since his first year in Dubai…I dunno…it’s a rare disease…his skin is terrible…he’s so thin…”
Bong’s anger towards his father suddenly turned to pity. He felt worried. “Did he send a new picture? Where is he then?”
Luisa had diaphoresis. She was feeling guilty of her new alibi. “No picture…you’re father won’t let us see his condition.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s in Australia, seeking medical assistance.”
“I’ll pray for him.”
Entering Caningay National High School opened a new world for Bong. After surviving the intimidating puberty years, Bong turned into a beautiful man that every girl would crave for. He was the ultimate campus crush.
It was also in CNHS that he met his only barkada, the ‘G. melina Boys’, named after their favorite tambayan below the G. melina trees.
“Pre, Jenny has a crush on you,” Larry told Bong one afternoon at their tambayan.
“Naks! Another one?” Lando quipped.
Hans, who was on the curved branch of a G. melina tree, suddenly jumped to the ground and said, “Too much, Bong! Give us the others!”
Bong just smiled.
“I heard that you screwed Carla already?”
“No way!’ Bong finally said. “I didn’t even spoke to her after he treated us banana cues.”
“Ows?” Larry and Hans chorused.
“That girl? She’s a pimple who evolved into a face.”
And the four laughed.
On weekeneds, when they had nothing to do or had exhausted themselves playing basketball, the barkada would stay at Lando’s uncle who was a barber. It was there that Bong learned how to cut hair. At first, he was just observing. But as time passed by, he mastered the use of scissors and comb and began cutting his friends’ hairs for free.
Bong never inquired his mother about his father all throughout his high school life. He never asked about the progress of his treatment or whether he’s going home at last or not. But during his graduation day, he finally asked his mother which ignited a serious fight between them.
“I know you’re father will be proud of you, Bong…” Luisa told his son as she fixed his toga.
Bong laughed sarcastically. “Whatever,” he replied.
Luisa was hit by his son’s sarcasm. “What did you say? Say that AGAIN!”
“I said ‘whatever’…I mean…I don’t care.”
SLAP!
“RICHARD, YOU’RE GETTING RUDE! IS THAT WHAT YOU GET WITH YOUR BARKADA?!” Luisa was furious. Her makeup was ruined as she began to sweat.
“Come on Ma…let’s stop pretending…I’m tired of this…”
“…YOU’RE TIRED?! RICHARD, I’M THE ONE WORKING FOR YOU! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! SO TELL ME…YOU’RE TIRED OF WHA-”
“OF YOUR LIES!”
That silenced Luisa.
“I’m tired of them mother…I’ve been silent for the past years and to hell with it! You’ve been keeping my father away from me…”
“Bong, anak…your father…”
“He’s abroad? He’s sick? No calls? No letters? Isn’t that obvious?” Bong pretended calm. Deep inside he wanted to explode.
“Listen Richard…I’m sorry…”
“There’s no need to be sorry Ma…I’m not mad at you…It’s just that I feel deprived of having a father…”
“YOUR FATHER FORSAKEN ME! AND HE…HE HAD DISOWNED YOU!” At last! Point of no return…
Bong was speechless as his mother revealed to him everything.
“I worked as a maid,” Luisa began. “I fell in love with the son of my employer, Jose. I thought he loved me…something happened…when I got pregnant, he denied me… I was forced to leave…”
Tears were leaking from Bong’s eyes. He pitied his mother. Now I understand. “I’m sorry…Nay…” He hugged his mother.
“No Bong, I should be the one saying that…I should have told you earlier…I was afraid…”
“Don’t worry mother. I will forget about this…and my stupid father forever…”
“Anak-”
Bong hugged his mother tighter. “We’ll have a new life…I will be an engineer, right?” He chuckled.
“Oh…I almost forgot…it’s your graduation!”
“Yeah Nay, and we have 30 minutes to fix ourselves.”
An hour after, Bong was receiving his medal for being the third honorable mention.
Bong took up Electronics and Communications Engineering at the Technological University of the Philippines (TUP-V) with a DOST scholarship. He was desperate to finish his studies and alleviate the status of their lives. But then he had to be away from his mother. From a being a mountaineer in Candoni, he became a city boy as he studied in Talisay City.
What’s good with TUP-V is that, the students will no longer encounter problems with regards to having work after graduation. The university looks for their jobs. Some could work at giant companies in Manila, and some could even reach Japan.
Like any other engineering courses, Bong had to endure five years in ECE. He could quit school after three years and be entitled as a technician. But he promised his mother an engineer status.
It was culture shock for him, not that he was now living in the city but because the university was full of masculine race. What for is my being gwapo? In TUP-V, the few girls were divided into four: a) pretty girls who got rich boyfriends; b) nerd girls who had no time to flirt; c) girls who looked like boys; d) girls who have penises, preferably called, girlalets.
Bong: hans…hws lyf, pre? Hws lasal?
Hans: Bong! I’m fyn. Ei…2 mny hot grls hir…
Bong: envy u. hir, only fagots
Hans: wahehe
He did screw a girl in TUP-V. But then, it only turned Bong’s life upside down. He was on his second year. A friend invited him for a wild party at his house.
“Richard, more beer?” his classmate offered Bong.
He had finished five bottles of Colt 45 already. Bong was having a slurred speech as he replied, “Sure…thanks…”
Then his classmate had a follow-up. “And hey, this is my high school classmate, Diana…” A tall girl appeared in front of Bong. He could hardly focus her face courtesy of his blurring vision. “She’s in TUP-V too…but she’s into chemicals…”
Someone from the dancing crowd screamed, “Go Richard! Diana has a crush on you…”
“Hi…Diana…”
As Bong greeted, Diana seductingly sat on his lap and began caressing his face.
“Richard Hinolan…hmmm…let’s try if you’re really delicious…”
Diana then kissed Bong torridly. The guy was weak. It was the last thing he could remember.
He woke up on a bed naked. He didn’t know whose room was it. He had hangover. Rotations and revolutions. He wanted to vomit. He felt so bad. He felt worse seeing a sleeping girl naked beneath the blanket.
Shit! What have I done?! I go to go…I will be dead if this bitch gets pregnant!
He put on his pants and fled as soon as possible.
Bong had become paranoid. He never stayed in the university that much. After dismissal, he would go to his boarding house immediately. He was avoiding Diana. He could sense it that the girl was after him. Why did I drink too much that night? Argh!
He was eating in the canteen one afternoon when doomsday came.
“Hi Richard!” It was Diana. She caught him at last.
“Oh…Hi…mahaw…”
Diana sat on the chair beside him and said in her seducting voice, “Thanks…but siopao isn’t enough for me…”
Bong was sweating. He had no way to escape. He was trapped. “What do you want to eat then? Just choose, I’ll buy it for-”
“YOU!” Diana went closer to Bong and continued speaking in whispers. “…I wanna eat you…your mushroom, your eggs, your sausage…I wanna drink your protein-rich milk…”
Bitch! She’s got me. If only I can kill her! Bong moved away from Diana. He looked from side to side making sure no one was looking at them. “Diana…please…”
“You’re hiding from me, aren’t you? You thought you can escape me?”
“Diana…I…what are you talking ab- whoa…stop…” Bong was stunned feeling Diana’s hands cupping his crotch.
“What am I talking about? Did you forget? We enjoyed that night…”
“I DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Diana replied still touching Bong’s perineal area beneath the table. “You were delicious…
Bong couldn’t tolerate the embarrassment anymore. He finally stood up and said, “I’m going.” As he put on his knapsack, Diana’s last words reverberated in his mind.
“You should be buying bottles and rattles by now. You’re going to be a father.”
Dear Nanay,
Nay, I have some bad news. Before I reveal it to you, allow me to say my sincere apology: SORRY NAY, I’M VERY VERY SORRY.
I quitted school, almost a month already. I didn’t fail in any of my subjects. I did something which I know would break your heart. I made a girl pregnant.
It was a mistake which I totally regret. We had a party at my classmate’s. I was drunk and this girl came in the scene. I was weak. I couldn’t remember what happened.
The girl’s name is Diana. She lives in Bacolod. She stopped schooling also since her stomach gets bigger. She’s an orphan already. Her only sister working in Singapore supported her. She has no plans of telling her sister yet about her condition.
Nay, as a man, I want to face my responsibilities with her. I want to be a father to my baby. Diana’s giving birth three months from now. I want to give my child something which my father failed to give me.
I’m sorry to disappoint you. I know you really want me to become an engineer but fate had been unkind. But let’s look at the brighter side…you’ll be a lola.
I’m looking for a job right now, getting ready for my family. And I had to pay the apartment where we moved in recently. Maybe I should continue my ECE course someday. In the mean time, as this is the situation, I really have to quit. I hope you understand.
Again, I’M VERY VERY SORRY.
Your son,
Bong
Dear Bong,
I forgive you. And I appreciate your honesty. I want you to know that I am happy for you. I’m VERY VERY PROUD OF YOU!
My dream of you becoming an engineer may wait. I know God has plans. Don’t mind me, I’m living a simple life here in Candoni. I’m still working at the municipal hall and I might be promoted for the Mayor’s Office this month. Just pray.
You know what, when God takes something, He gives back something more. I can’t wait to see my apo! Tell me if Diana gives birth coz I might visit you there in Bacolod.
I once feard that you would become exactly like your father. I’m glad you’re not like him.
Love,
Nanay
Bong found it difficult to look for a job that could support him with Diana pregnant. Applying for a salesboy wouldn’t be enough. It was the lowest time of his life. He realized how hard it was to look for money. If only he had reached third year and graduated as technician, he could have had a job already. But he quitted a sophomore and that’s the consequence.
At first, he loathed Diana for bringing him in such a situation. He wanted to commit suicide when she revealed to him her pregnancy that afternoon in the canteen. But with the advice of Larry, his friend who had entered the seminary, he called Diana for a serious talk which settled everything. Diana, after all, wasn’t that bad. In fact, she belonged to those girls who were nerd and had no time for boys. It’s just that she was crazy in love with Bong that’s why she began behaving such. Funny it was what love could do. The nerd transformed to a bitch.
Diana didn’t want to tell her sister abroad that she got pregnant. She didn’t want to disappoint her. She would tell her soon probably, but not now. Even though she had stopped school already, her sister was still sending her money thinking it would go to tuition. Diana kept the money for the apartment rental and in preparation for her childbirth.
It wasn’t difficult, on the other hand, for Bong to love Diana. At first, he just decided to live with her because of responsibility and not affection. But love is a force of nature. As time passed by, Bong was beginning to think that Diana’s the prettiest woman in the world.
Their son was a boy. They named him Ricky.
He found hope while he was in Villamonte one day. Bong was walking by the Mariposa Building after buying Ricky’s milk at Lopues East when he saw ALK Barber Shop with a poster outside saying, “WANTED: BARBER”.
His memory of Lando’s uncle’s barber shop flooded his mind. I know how to cut hair.
Bong inquired immediately. As he entered the airconditioned shop, a fat old man approached him. “Haircut sir?” the old man asked.
“No. I would like to inquire about the advertisement outside…that you need a barber here?”
“You come back tomorrow,” a man with a huge stomach quipped. “Mr. Gonzaga had just gone out. You can talk to him tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” As Bong went out, a man with a humongous belly entered the shop.
“By the way…bring biodata…” the old man said just before Bong closed the door.
The next day, Bong went back to ALK with his biodata. He arrived at the shop around 9am.
“Good morning,” Bong asked a sturdy man inside the shop. The old barber whom he talked yesterday was busy with a customer. “Is Mr. Gonzaga here?”
“I am Mr. Gonzaga.”
Bong had goosebumps. “Oh…good morning sir…I’m Bong and I came here yesterday to apply as a barber…”
“Do you have your biodata?”
“Yes sir.” He handed the folder he was holding.
“Okay. Come here.” They went on a corner at the far end of the shop where there was a table with a receptionist. “Chit, will you keep this please.” The short woman with a curly hair received the folder and placed it on a drawer without reading it.
That’s it? I slept late last night typing that damn biodata and they wouldn’t read it?
“Okay…so Bong, what kind of cut do you cut?”
“Uhm…well, I can do barber’s cut, semi-kalbo, flat-top, military-”
At that moment, a pretty girl of Bong’s age came in.
“Dad, let’s go! I have a class by 10,” the girl said.
“Wait, I’m interviewing an applicant,” Mr. Gonzaga replied.
“But can I talk to you for a second…puhleez…”
“Okay. Bong, please wait.” Mr. Gonzaga stood up and followed his daughter in a corner. They talked for two minutes. Then his daughter went out.
Mr. Gonzagawas laughing as he returned to Bong. Then, to the applicant’s surprise, he said, “You’re hired. You can start working tomorrow.”
v o l t a i r e
The reason why he drank liquor too much was denial. He was the black sheep of the family. His brothers’ achievements were far greater than him. His father didn’t love him.
Voltaire Natividad was named after the famous French philosopher, Francois Marie Arouet de Voltaire. His father, who was a professor of Philosophy in the University of Negros Occidental – Recoletos, named his sons after great philosophers in history: Aristotle, the eldest, Confucius, the middle child, and Voltaire, his youngest.
“You must stand out from your classmates…I know you are intelligent…the spirits of famous philosophers in the world live in you…” the professor would tell his sons.
Being the youngest of the three siblings, Voltaire would look up at his brothers as role models. He was inspired when his Manong Aris won a Math quiz bee when he was just in grade 3. He was amazed whenever his Manong Cocoy would show his report card with all his grades in line of nine. I wish I can achieve as much.
Voltaire was never like his brothers, though. No matter how hard he tried, he never stood out. He did not exceed his father’s expectations. While Aris and Cocoy were raking awards every recognition day, he would just have a single ribbon or two.
SPANK!
“Dad, I’m sorry…please forgive me…” Voltaire was crying one day on the sofa.
“YOU GOT A 79 IN SCIENCE?! YOU DISAPPOINT ME! WHY CAN’T YOU BE JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHERS!”
SPANK!
“I’m sorry…I tried to…but it’s all I got…” Voltaire’s butt was burning in pain.
“YOU DIDN’T GIVE YOUR BEST! FROM NOW ON, NO TELEVISION, NO BICYCLE…YOU WILL STAY IN YOUR ROOM TO STUDY WHEN YOU ARRIVE FROM SCHOOL!”
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Voltaire grew up despising his father.
He began drinking when he was in second year high school. Beer was good. Whiskey was better. Tequila was the best. He could forget his father’s academic pressures.
“Voltaire?”
He looked back hearing someone calling his name. He was in an open bar drinking with his friends. “Nong?” It was his brother Aris.
“Gago! Since when did you learn to drink?!” Aristotle said angrily.
“Nong, come in…try a shot…”
Aristotle grabbed the glass and displaced it’s contents to Voltaire.
“WHAT?!”
“You come here…” Aristotle caught Voltaire by his shirt and went out of the bar into the highway. “We will go home…wait till Dad knows about this…you’ll be deadmeat…”
They entered a taxi.
Professor Natividad was enraged with what his youngest son had done to himself.
“Where did you find him?” the professor asked his eldest son.
“Outside UNO-R, in an open beerhouse with his barkada,” Aristotle replied.
“Cocoy, get my belt.”
When Confucius came back, Voltaire suffered another spanking session.
SPANK!
“WON’T YOU COME TO YOUR SENSES? YOU’RE A PROFESSOR’S SON AND LOOK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOURSELF!”
SPANK!
Voltaire remained silent. He had enough. The belt’s buckle was killing him.
“I’M DOING EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU WILL PAY ME?! YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A BRIGHT FUTURE!”
SPANK!
Voltaire wanted to explode. He couldn’t bear it anymore.
“I’M ASHAMED OF YOU… I REGRET YOU’RE MY SON! YOU’RE GIV-”
“I regret too that you’re my father!” Voltaire spoke the words clearly.
SPANK!
“SO YOU’RE FIGHTING BACK NOW?! VOLTAIRE, YOU’RE EMBARASSING-”
“BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU’RE THE WORST FATHER IN THE WORLD! YOU’RE FORCING US TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST OUR WILL! LOOK AT NONG ARIS…HE HAS NO TIME FOR HIMSELF. DON’T YOU KNOW THAT HE SLEEPS TILL 4AM? AND NONG COCOY…HE’S BEING TEASED AT SCHOOL…A GEEK! TOO MUCH OF YOUR PRESSURES, DAD. YOU’RE CRUEL…YOU’RE A DEMON…YOU’VE NEVER BEEN A GOOD FATHER!”
Professor Natividad fell on the floor unconscious. An hour later, he was in the ICU of The Doctor’s Hospital diagnosed with mild stroke.
Mama Mary, please forgive me. I shouldn’t have fought my father. I was wrong. It was my entire fault. My conscience is killing me. We already lost our Mom. I will not forgive myself if something bad happens to Dad. Please help him survive. We needed him. If he gets well, I promise… I promise to fix my life. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll study hard if that’s what he wants. I will always obey him. Please Mama Mary…I’m begging you…please give my Dad another life…”
Voltaire’s father was discharged from the hospital after a month of confinement. His half body was paralyzed and his speech was affected by the stroke. Timing, it was summer vacation. Voltaire took care of his Dad at home.
“Dad, I’m reading the works of Plato…”
“Dad, I’m studying trigonometry…”
“Dad, I watched Discovery Channel…they featured French philosophers…”
“Dad, I’m sorry for everything I said…”
“Dad, I won over Nong Aris in chess…”
“Dad, you’re the best father in the universe…”
“Dad, Nong Cocoy and I answered the 1 million question in Game KNB…
“Dad, forgive me…”
It was indeed a miracle. Professor Natividad’s condition went better with Voltaire’s care. A physical therapist was visiting them from time to time. After six months, his speech was fine. After a year, he was able to work back in the university.
“I forgive you,” the professor told his youngest son. “But please…don’t you ever disappoint me again.”
“Yes Dad!” Voltaire replied enthusiastically. “I promise.”
“So how’s your father?” Ferdinand, his barber in his patronized barber shop, asked Voltaire one day while he was having a haircut. He trusted the old barber with all his problems.
“He’s fine, Nong Ferds. Thank God.”
“You should not cause him any stress. For all I know, if you had stroke, you should live life to the fullest.” Ferdinand was finishing his customer’s hair.
“Yeah I know. I promised Dad I will study hard.”
“That’s good. It will benefit the both of you. But don’t force yourself too much…just accept what’s there…”
I wish Dad is like Manong Ferds. “Yeah…oh…I love my new hair…as usual…you’re the best barber!” Voltaire got the brush and began removing the hairs sticking on his shirt.
“Always the best for a suki,” Ferdinand quipped.
“Haha! Maybe I should be a barber someday.”
“DON’T SAY THAT. You deserve a good future…not a barber like me.”
“I hope so.”
He loved his old barber. Ferdinand was Voltaire’s second father. If not of the barber’s advices, he had been lost from sanity ages ago courtesy of his father’s perfectionism.
Voltaire graduated high school with flying colors. He missed alcohol but he controlled himself sticking to his promise. He took up BS Political Science at UNO-R. His father wanted him to be a lawyer.
The problem rose again when he was on his third year. Aristotle graduated a summa cum laude. Confucius graduated a magna cum laude and was awarded at Malacañan Palace as one of the ten outstanding students of the Philippines. Voltaire was very much pressured to achieve greater what his brothers had achieved. He was desperate to please his father more than any of them.
His only way to top his class would be to get a high grade in every quiz. He would usually get leakages from a friend in the other section. It wasn’t that he didn’t study. He wanted to make sure he would perfect the test. A mistake would mean a lot.
“Enumerate the punishments for grave felony,” the professor in Criminal Law asked his students in a quiz.
There was silence.
“For numbers 21-25, define subpoena duces tecum.”
There was silence.
A sound of crumpling paper.
“Mr. Natividad?”
All eyes were at Voltaire.
“Voltaire Natividad?” The professor walked towards Voltaire. “What is that in your hands?”
Oh no! SHIT! I’m real deadmeat! “Ah…uhmm…sir…it’s just…” His hands were trembling.
The professor snatched the piece of yellow pad from Voltaire’s hand and studied it.
“Mr. Natividad, you proceed to the dean’s office right now. Tell Dean Tomaro I’ll be there after I finish this quiz,” the professor said calmly.
Voltaire felt very much embarrassed. His doom befell him at last.
“Voltaire Natividad…dean’s listee…resident scholar…son of a university professor…don’t you know how humiliating it is what you’ve done?” the dean of the college of law spoke to Voltaire.
Voltaire remained silent. He couldn’t look at Dean Tomaro straight to the eyes.
“…I never thought that someone like you is a cheater…I expected much from you…after all, your brothers gave honors to the school…”
Voltaire’s heart was beating fast. Oh my God…how would Dad react to this? I’m endangering his life…
“…Maybe I should call your father…we’ll settle everything today…”
“No Ma’am!” Voltaire said. “Please, I’m begging you…don’t break this to my father for now…he had a stroke…”
“I understand that Mr. Natividad. It’s good that you reminded me…the university cannot afford to lose a brilliant professor like your father…”
They waited for Voltaire’s professor in Criminal Law to arrive. He came after thirty minutes.
“Atty. Tomaro, sorry…I had to dismiss the class…and I called Mr. Natividad…”
“WHAT?!” Voltaire was horrified hearing his professor who entered the dean’s office.
“Mr. Natividad, I decided it would be better-”
“Atty. Sicangco,” Dean Tomaro entered the conversation. “I’ve been talking to the student a while ago. He requested we should not tell the matter to his father because Professor Natividad is reviving himself from stroke.”
“But attorney…Mr. Natividad is-”
“I’m here.”
It’s the end of the world. Forgive me, Dad.
“Professor…”
“Yes Dean? I heard that my son cheated in his class?”
“Ah…well…” Dean Tomaro found it hard to speak as she was surprised with the appearance of Voltaire’s father. “…Unfortunately, Prof…uhm…Voltaire, you explain to your father…”
Voltaire’s uniform was wet with sweat. “Dad, I’m sorry…I…I…”
Professor Natividad turned back to the dean and said calmly, “What is the sanction, dean?”
“He might be suspended for a week…and he should write an incidental report.”
“Did you hear that Voltaire?” the professor now turned to his son.
“Yes Dad.”
“Professor Natividad…are you okay? I know this is bad for-”
“I’m alright, Dean, thank you…and I apologize for Voltaire.”
There was silence while they were having their dinner that night. Driven with guilt, Voltaire broke the silence and began talking to his father.
“Dad…about this afternoon…I’m sorry…”
“There’s no need for sorry, son…it’s my fault…I might be pressuring you a lot.”
“But I disappointed you…I mean, with my incidental report, I might not qualify for a laude anymore.”
“It’s alright. I can accept it. I know it’s all you’ve got.”
“Thanks Dad.” Thank God he understood me. This is great. I feel so free. I’m released from the bondage of academics.
Voltaire slept peacefully that night.
The next morning, he woke up early. Voltaire and his father would usually go to the university together. He prepared their breakfast. When it was already 7:30 and his father wasn’t in the dining table yet, he went to his room to alert him.
He knocked twice. There was no answer.
He entered.
His father was dead on the floor, hugging the laminated diplomas of Aristotle and Confucius.
“DAAAAAAD!”
“So how’s your father?” Ferdinand asked Voltaire one day as the customer returned to have another haircut.
“He’s dead…buried just last week.”
Ferdinand quitted cutting his customer’s hair for a moment. “Really? Why didn’t you inform me? I could’ve gone to his burial.”
“Sorry…my brothers wanted Dad be buried as soon as possible. Nong Aris would be returning to his work in Australia and Nong Cocoy had a business in Manila…”
“What happened? Did you cause him stress?” the barber continued cutting hair.
“Nong Ferds, please…uhm…well, he died in his sleep.”
“Oh, I’m sorry then. What’s your plan now?”
Voltaire replied after a few seconds. “I quitted school. I don’t have a face to show in the university. The house was left to me and…that’s it…I’m alone…”
“No girlfriend?”
“No. No plans yet.”
After the cutting session, Voltaire got two 20-peso bills from his wallet.
“Just pay 30 pesos to that woman.”
“But Nong Ferds, I’m no longer a student.” An ordinary haircut was worth 30 Php for students and 40 Php for regulars.
“Just pay 30 pesos.”
“Thanks.”
Professor Natividad left some money to his children. Divided by three, Voltaire got so little. But at least he got the house. As time passed by, though, his money was running out. He was a bum. His father was right, he had no future.
With his mind full of regrets and denial, Voltaire went back to his alcoholic life.
When he’s not drinking…
I’m a loser. I’m the poorest among us three. I was the reason why Dad died. He’s right…I’m an idiot…I don’t deserve to be his son.
When’s he’s under whiskey…
Haha. I’m the winner, after all. I had a wonderful teen’s life. I rebelled against my father and I’m proud of that. My brothers are just compensating because they never had a life. It’s good that Dad’s gone. It’s time for me to enjoy.
Voltaire drank and drank until his abdomen got humongous. After two years, he was bankcrupt.
“So…how’s life?”
“I’m broke, Nong Ferds…I’m nothing…”
So that’s the reason why you want to be bald? Ferdinand was shaving the hair of his customer with an electric razor. He felt uneasy. Voltaire was once a nice guy who always asked a decent haircut. Now, he looked old, more like a tambay. “I told you not to waste your money in drinking. Look at you…you’re belly’s so big.” He pitied Voltaire.
“Yeah. I’m a penniless drunkard with a gargantuan stomach.”
Ferdinand was finishing the cut. Skin-heading was the fastest job in the barber shop.
“Nong Ferds…can I apply as a barber here? You told me that Nong Tiyago was hit by a ten-wheeler truck. Has someone replaced him?”
The barber was stunned. “Hmm…no one has applied yet. But are you sure?”
“No choice. I’m running out of money. I can’t rely to my brothers forever.”
“What I mean is, do you know how to cut?”
“Of course? After years of observing you, I know how to use those scissors and comb. And isn’t it that I told you once I wanted to become a barber like you?”
They laughed.
“Okay boy…if you’re really interested, you have to talk to Mr. Gonzaga, the owner of this barber shop.”
“Thanks for the tip. Whoa…I love my hair.”
“Are you kidding? There’s no hair,” Ferdinand quipped before he chuckled.
“Whatever! I’m paying 60 pesos whether you like it or not.”
Two weeks later, Ferdinand and Voltaire were already colleagues at ALK.
The reason why he drank liquor too much was denial. He was the black sheep of the family. His brothers’ achievements were far greater than him. His father didn’t love him.
Voltaire Natividad was named after the famous French philosopher, Francois Marie Arouet de Voltaire. His father, who was a professor of Philosophy in the University of Negros Occidental – Recoletos, named his sons after great philosophers in history: Aristotle, the eldest, Confucius, the middle child, and Voltaire, his youngest.
“You must stand out from your classmates…I know you are intelligent…the spirits of famous philosophers in the world live in you…” the professor would tell his sons.
Being the youngest of the three siblings, Voltaire would look up at his brothers as role models. He was inspired when his Manong Aris won a Math quiz bee when he was just in grade 3. He was amazed whenever his Manong Cocoy would show his report card with all his grades in line of nine. I wish I can achieve as much.
Voltaire was never like his brothers, though. No matter how hard he tried, he never stood out. He did not exceed his father’s expectations. While Aris and Cocoy were raking awards every recognition day, he would just have a single ribbon or two.
SPANK!
“Dad, I’m sorry…please forgive me…” Voltaire was crying one day on the sofa.
“YOU GOT A 79 IN SCIENCE?! YOU DISAPPOINT ME! WHY CAN’T YOU BE JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHERS!”
SPANK!
“I’m sorry…I tried to…but it’s all I got…” Voltaire’s butt was burning in pain.
“YOU DIDN’T GIVE YOUR BEST! FROM NOW ON, NO TELEVISION, NO BICYCLE…YOU WILL STAY IN YOUR ROOM TO STUDY WHEN YOU ARRIVE FROM SCHOOL!”
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Voltaire grew up despising his father.
He began drinking when he was in second year high school. Beer was good. Whiskey was better. Tequila was the best. He could forget his father’s academic pressures.
“Voltaire?”
He looked back hearing someone calling his name. He was in an open bar drinking with his friends. “Nong?” It was his brother Aris.
“Gago! Since when did you learn to drink?!” Aristotle said angrily.
“Nong, come in…try a shot…”
Aristotle grabbed the glass and displaced it’s contents to Voltaire.
“WHAT?!”
“You come here…” Aristotle caught Voltaire by his shirt and went out of the bar into the highway. “We will go home…wait till Dad knows about this…you’ll be deadmeat…”
They entered a taxi.
Professor Natividad was enraged with what his youngest son had done to himself.
“Where did you find him?” the professor asked his eldest son.
“Outside UNO-R, in an open beerhouse with his barkada,” Aristotle replied.
“Cocoy, get my belt.”
When Confucius came back, Voltaire suffered another spanking session.
SPANK!
“WON’T YOU COME TO YOUR SENSES? YOU’RE A PROFESSOR’S SON AND LOOK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOURSELF!”
SPANK!
Voltaire remained silent. He had enough. The belt’s buckle was killing him.
“I’M DOING EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU WILL PAY ME?! YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A BRIGHT FUTURE!”
SPANK!
Voltaire wanted to explode. He couldn’t bear it anymore.
“I’M ASHAMED OF YOU… I REGRET YOU’RE MY SON! YOU’RE GIV-”
“I regret too that you’re my father!” Voltaire spoke the words clearly.
SPANK!
“SO YOU’RE FIGHTING BACK NOW?! VOLTAIRE, YOU’RE EMBARASSING-”
“BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU’RE THE WORST FATHER IN THE WORLD! YOU’RE FORCING US TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST OUR WILL! LOOK AT NONG ARIS…HE HAS NO TIME FOR HIMSELF. DON’T YOU KNOW THAT HE SLEEPS TILL 4AM? AND NONG COCOY…HE’S BEING TEASED AT SCHOOL…A GEEK! TOO MUCH OF YOUR PRESSURES, DAD. YOU’RE CRUEL…YOU’RE A DEMON…YOU’VE NEVER BEEN A GOOD FATHER!”
Professor Natividad fell on the floor unconscious. An hour later, he was in the ICU of The Doctor’s Hospital diagnosed with mild stroke.
Mama Mary, please forgive me. I shouldn’t have fought my father. I was wrong. It was my entire fault. My conscience is killing me. We already lost our Mom. I will not forgive myself if something bad happens to Dad. Please help him survive. We needed him. If he gets well, I promise… I promise to fix my life. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll study hard if that’s what he wants. I will always obey him. Please Mama Mary…I’m begging you…please give my Dad another life…”
Voltaire’s father was discharged from the hospital after a month of confinement. His half body was paralyzed and his speech was affected by the stroke. Timing, it was summer vacation. Voltaire took care of his Dad at home.
“Dad, I’m reading the works of Plato…”
“Dad, I’m studying trigonometry…”
“Dad, I watched Discovery Channel…they featured French philosophers…”
“Dad, I’m sorry for everything I said…”
“Dad, I won over Nong Aris in chess…”
“Dad, you’re the best father in the universe…”
“Dad, Nong Cocoy and I answered the 1 million question in Game KNB…
“Dad, forgive me…”
It was indeed a miracle. Professor Natividad’s condition went better with Voltaire’s care. A physical therapist was visiting them from time to time. After six months, his speech was fine. After a year, he was able to work back in the university.
“I forgive you,” the professor told his youngest son. “But please…don’t you ever disappoint me again.”
“Yes Dad!” Voltaire replied enthusiastically. “I promise.”
“So how’s your father?” Ferdinand, his barber in his patronized barber shop, asked Voltaire one day while he was having a haircut. He trusted the old barber with all his problems.
“He’s fine, Nong Ferds. Thank God.”
“You should not cause him any stress. For all I know, if you had stroke, you should live life to the fullest.” Ferdinand was finishing his customer’s hair.
“Yeah I know. I promised Dad I will study hard.”
“That’s good. It will benefit the both of you. But don’t force yourself too much…just accept what’s there…”
I wish Dad is like Manong Ferds. “Yeah…oh…I love my new hair…as usual…you’re the best barber!” Voltaire got the brush and began removing the hairs sticking on his shirt.
“Always the best for a suki,” Ferdinand quipped.
“Haha! Maybe I should be a barber someday.”
“DON’T SAY THAT. You deserve a good future…not a barber like me.”
“I hope so.”
He loved his old barber. Ferdinand was Voltaire’s second father. If not of the barber’s advices, he had been lost from sanity ages ago courtesy of his father’s perfectionism.
Voltaire graduated high school with flying colors. He missed alcohol but he controlled himself sticking to his promise. He took up BS Political Science at UNO-R. His father wanted him to be a lawyer.
The problem rose again when he was on his third year. Aristotle graduated a summa cum laude. Confucius graduated a magna cum laude and was awarded at Malacañan Palace as one of the ten outstanding students of the Philippines. Voltaire was very much pressured to achieve greater what his brothers had achieved. He was desperate to please his father more than any of them.
His only way to top his class would be to get a high grade in every quiz. He would usually get leakages from a friend in the other section. It wasn’t that he didn’t study. He wanted to make sure he would perfect the test. A mistake would mean a lot.
“Enumerate the punishments for grave felony,” the professor in Criminal Law asked his students in a quiz.
There was silence.
“For numbers 21-25, define subpoena duces tecum.”
There was silence.
A sound of crumpling paper.
“Mr. Natividad?”
All eyes were at Voltaire.
“Voltaire Natividad?” The professor walked towards Voltaire. “What is that in your hands?”
Oh no! SHIT! I’m real deadmeat! “Ah…uhmm…sir…it’s just…” His hands were trembling.
The professor snatched the piece of yellow pad from Voltaire’s hand and studied it.
“Mr. Natividad, you proceed to the dean’s office right now. Tell Dean Tomaro I’ll be there after I finish this quiz,” the professor said calmly.
Voltaire felt very much embarrassed. His doom befell him at last.
“Voltaire Natividad…dean’s listee…resident scholar…son of a university professor…don’t you know how humiliating it is what you’ve done?” the dean of the college of law spoke to Voltaire.
Voltaire remained silent. He couldn’t look at Dean Tomaro straight to the eyes.
“…I never thought that someone like you is a cheater…I expected much from you…after all, your brothers gave honors to the school…”
Voltaire’s heart was beating fast. Oh my God…how would Dad react to this? I’m endangering his life…
“…Maybe I should call your father…we’ll settle everything today…”
“No Ma’am!” Voltaire said. “Please, I’m begging you…don’t break this to my father for now…he had a stroke…”
“I understand that Mr. Natividad. It’s good that you reminded me…the university cannot afford to lose a brilliant professor like your father…”
They waited for Voltaire’s professor in Criminal Law to arrive. He came after thirty minutes.
“Atty. Tomaro, sorry…I had to dismiss the class…and I called Mr. Natividad…”
“WHAT?!” Voltaire was horrified hearing his professor who entered the dean’s office.
“Mr. Natividad, I decided it would be better-”
“Atty. Sicangco,” Dean Tomaro entered the conversation. “I’ve been talking to the student a while ago. He requested we should not tell the matter to his father because Professor Natividad is reviving himself from stroke.”
“But attorney…Mr. Natividad is-”
“I’m here.”
It’s the end of the world. Forgive me, Dad.
“Professor…”
“Yes Dean? I heard that my son cheated in his class?”
“Ah…well…” Dean Tomaro found it hard to speak as she was surprised with the appearance of Voltaire’s father. “…Unfortunately, Prof…uhm…Voltaire, you explain to your father…”
Voltaire’s uniform was wet with sweat. “Dad, I’m sorry…I…I…”
Professor Natividad turned back to the dean and said calmly, “What is the sanction, dean?”
“He might be suspended for a week…and he should write an incidental report.”
“Did you hear that Voltaire?” the professor now turned to his son.
“Yes Dad.”
“Professor Natividad…are you okay? I know this is bad for-”
“I’m alright, Dean, thank you…and I apologize for Voltaire.”
There was silence while they were having their dinner that night. Driven with guilt, Voltaire broke the silence and began talking to his father.
“Dad…about this afternoon…I’m sorry…”
“There’s no need for sorry, son…it’s my fault…I might be pressuring you a lot.”
“But I disappointed you…I mean, with my incidental report, I might not qualify for a laude anymore.”
“It’s alright. I can accept it. I know it’s all you’ve got.”
“Thanks Dad.” Thank God he understood me. This is great. I feel so free. I’m released from the bondage of academics.
Voltaire slept peacefully that night.
The next morning, he woke up early. Voltaire and his father would usually go to the university together. He prepared their breakfast. When it was already 7:30 and his father wasn’t in the dining table yet, he went to his room to alert him.
He knocked twice. There was no answer.
He entered.
His father was dead on the floor, hugging the laminated diplomas of Aristotle and Confucius.
“DAAAAAAD!”
“So how’s your father?” Ferdinand asked Voltaire one day as the customer returned to have another haircut.
“He’s dead…buried just last week.”
Ferdinand quitted cutting his customer’s hair for a moment. “Really? Why didn’t you inform me? I could’ve gone to his burial.”
“Sorry…my brothers wanted Dad be buried as soon as possible. Nong Aris would be returning to his work in Australia and Nong Cocoy had a business in Manila…”
“What happened? Did you cause him stress?” the barber continued cutting hair.
“Nong Ferds, please…uhm…well, he died in his sleep.”
“Oh, I’m sorry then. What’s your plan now?”
Voltaire replied after a few seconds. “I quitted school. I don’t have a face to show in the university. The house was left to me and…that’s it…I’m alone…”
“No girlfriend?”
“No. No plans yet.”
After the cutting session, Voltaire got two 20-peso bills from his wallet.
“Just pay 30 pesos to that woman.”
“But Nong Ferds, I’m no longer a student.” An ordinary haircut was worth 30 Php for students and 40 Php for regulars.
“Just pay 30 pesos.”
“Thanks.”
Professor Natividad left some money to his children. Divided by three, Voltaire got so little. But at least he got the house. As time passed by, though, his money was running out. He was a bum. His father was right, he had no future.
With his mind full of regrets and denial, Voltaire went back to his alcoholic life.
When he’s not drinking…
I’m a loser. I’m the poorest among us three. I was the reason why Dad died. He’s right…I’m an idiot…I don’t deserve to be his son.
When’s he’s under whiskey…
Haha. I’m the winner, after all. I had a wonderful teen’s life. I rebelled against my father and I’m proud of that. My brothers are just compensating because they never had a life. It’s good that Dad’s gone. It’s time for me to enjoy.
Voltaire drank and drank until his abdomen got humongous. After two years, he was bankcrupt.
“So…how’s life?”
“I’m broke, Nong Ferds…I’m nothing…”
So that’s the reason why you want to be bald? Ferdinand was shaving the hair of his customer with an electric razor. He felt uneasy. Voltaire was once a nice guy who always asked a decent haircut. Now, he looked old, more like a tambay. “I told you not to waste your money in drinking. Look at you…you’re belly’s so big.” He pitied Voltaire.
“Yeah. I’m a penniless drunkard with a gargantuan stomach.”
Ferdinand was finishing the cut. Skin-heading was the fastest job in the barber shop.
“Nong Ferds…can I apply as a barber here? You told me that Nong Tiyago was hit by a ten-wheeler truck. Has someone replaced him?”
The barber was stunned. “Hmm…no one has applied yet. But are you sure?”
“No choice. I’m running out of money. I can’t rely to my brothers forever.”
“What I mean is, do you know how to cut?”
“Of course? After years of observing you, I know how to use those scissors and comb. And isn’t it that I told you once I wanted to become a barber like you?”
They laughed.
“Okay boy…if you’re really interested, you have to talk to Mr. Gonzaga, the owner of this barber shop.”
“Thanks for the tip. Whoa…I love my hair.”
“Are you kidding? There’s no hair,” Ferdinand quipped before he chuckled.
“Whatever! I’m paying 60 pesos whether you like it or not.”
Two weeks later, Ferdinand and Voltaire were already colleagues at ALK.
j i m m y
When Jim “Jimmy” Tagle entered to work at ALK Barber Shop, he became the subject of his co-workers’ gay jokes.
“Wow! Bongga your hair!” Ben, the funny barber, would say referring to Jimmy’s long blond hair.
“Girlaloo girlaloo girlaloo laloo laloo…” Voltaire would hum along seeing Jimmy arriving at the shop.
“You’re sexier than my damn wife!” Bong, the newest barber, would comment Jimmy’s thin body.
“Oh my…you move more feminine than I am,” Chit, the receptionist-cashier-janitress, once said seeing Jimmy cleaning his cutting area.
“Jimmy! Want a free blow-job?” Cesar, the muscular barber, would give the grossiest insult.
The only one who never teased him was Ferdinand, the barber who was old enough to say such jokes.
Jimmy didn’t take his colleagues’ jokes seriously. If that was how they would befriend him, then let them be. Jimmy knew for himself that he wasn’t gay. I’m damn straight! Who could blame the other barbers teasing him? He had an overall package of that of a faggot. He was as slim as Mother Ricky Reyes and his hair was heavily dyed like that of Tim Yap.
He would only disagree when people in ALK would call him ‘Jimmy’ while his real name was plainly ‘Jim’. It was only in ALK that he had been called such. I got a short name and they’re complicating things adding up another syllable. Argh! But as time passed by, he was used to it. ‘Jimmy’ was better than ‘Jim Jim’, a name that a customer once called him.
Jimmy grew up in a squatters’ area in Brgy. Bata. He had never seen his parents and he grew up never wanting to see them. His grandmother raised him. All he knew about his parents, as told by his Lola Maring, was that they separated when he was just an infant and they explored the whole wide world in search of themselves.
Lola Maring owned a sari-sari store. Every afternoon, people would swarm at the store to drink tuba or play pusoy dos. Jimmy, as a young boy, would help his grandma look after the store. It was there that he adapted neatness. He arranged the de latas, chichiryas, noodles, and other dry goods very well such that people would be attracted to buy.
He was not malnourished. The reason why he was thin all his life was Lola Maring’s tuberculosis. With the populated area where they lived, the disease was common. If only he had a mother who was responsible enough to bring him to the health center when he was a baby and have his BCG vaccine. It was too late. He was already exposed to the bacilli and was treated with Kid’s Kit.
The mycobacterium finally killed Lola Maring when Jimmy was in high school. Since then, Jimmy was alone and continued his grandma’s mini-business. He couldn’t afford college education. He was a bum after graduating high school.
As a sideline, he tried to cut his neighbor’s hair and earned 10 pesos per head. He had no experience in cutting hair. He did it out of desperation to add something for his weekly budget. His first works were horrible and he catered only kids. But as he mastered the craft, he began having adult customers. He even had women.
It was an uncle of one of his customers in the squatters’ area, who invited him to work at ALK Barber Shop in Brgy. Villamonte. That man was a regular suki of ALK that time. With his expertise, Jimmy was immediately hired by Mr. Gonzaga, the owner of the barber shop.
Lola Maring’s Sari-Sari Store was closed. Jimmy sold the house in Bata since he was tired of the sqatter’s life. He rented a small apartment in Villamonte.
Maybe, one reason why his fellow barbers kept on making fun of him was that, many costumers liked Jimmy and he always got larger tips.
One day, a rich-looking man entered the barber shop and, being a phenomenon, those barbers who had no costumers yet alerted themselves to serve the man who might give them a big tip. Ferdinand and Jimmy had customers. The other four prepared themselves.
“Haircut Sir?” chorused the four.
“Yes but…I’m waiting for my son,” the customer said.
“You may seat for a while, Sir,” Chit said who was sweeping the mountains of hair on the floor.
“Thank you.”
When Jimmy was done with his customer, the rich-looking man suddenly stood up and went to his cutting area.
“Barber’s cut please,” Jimmy’s new customer requested.
As Jimmy began to work, his fellow barbers were backbiting him.
Damn that faggot!
He always gets the best customer.
I thought he’s waiting for his son? Was that an alibi?
He might give him as much as the fee.
On the other hand, Jimmy was thinking, Seems like I can’t take a break. His stomach was thundering.
The price for ordinary haircut that time was already 50 Php for students and 60 Php for regulars. After the cutting his hair, the rich-looking customer gave Jimmy a violet bill.
“Thank you Sir, come again,” Jimmy said as he inserted his 100 pesos in his pocket.
“I will.”
When the customer was out, Cesar, whose cutting area was beside Jimmy’s, broke from silence.
“Hey Fanny Serrano…what’s you’re secret huh? Why do you always have the richest customers?”
“I dunno,” Jimmy replied. “Maybe it’s my being Fanny Serrano.”
Cesar gave a sarcastic laugh.
After a few minutes, another rich-looking customer sat at Jimmy’s cutting area.
Jimmy had a girlfriend, a waitress in a KTV bar.
“Babes, I want your hair red…too much of the brown days,” Cookie told Jimmy one night in the bar. Jimmy would go the place every night after work.
“What?!” Jimmy replied almost spilling the beer. “I dyed my hair with this color from bluish last month and now you want me become a brunette?”
“Do it…please…red hair makes me horny nowadays…”
Jimmy’s girlfriend had admitted that her fetish was colored hair. It was weird and Jimmy couldn’t adapt to it at first. When they made love, Cookie would lick his hair hungrily or rub her pussy on the colored strands. What kind of a woman fell in love with me?
“NO WAY! My friends at the barber shop already think that I’m gay…because of this damn hair!”
Silence.
Sobs.
Growls.
“WELL THEN! NO RED HAIR, NO SEX!”
It was loud. But the voice of a drunken man singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way at the table nearby overcame Cookie’s mouth.
“Shhh…alright…okay…fine…red hair…”
Cookie jumped joyfully like a little girl winning in jackstone. Then she returned to her barber lover and whispered slowly in his ears, “Exhaust me tonight. I wanna make love to your brown hair one last time…”
“You’ve been here before, right?” Jimmy asked his customer one evening. Plus Chit, they were the only ones left in the shop. Closing time of ALK was 7pm. The late customer arrived around 6:45 and poor Jimmy decided to serve.
“Yup! Twice I think,” the customer replied. He was young, a college guy. He was wearing an all-white uniform.
“What’s your course?”
“Nursing.”
“Good choice! Nurses are in demand abroad, right?”
“Uhoh, goin’ the flow.”
“T’was my dream to be a nurse. But we got no money. So this is my fate.” Lola Maring, if I would be a nurse someday, I will cure your TB.
“Don’t say that…at least you’re not begging on the streets.”
Laughs.
“How much is the tuition per semester nowadays?” Jimmy asked.
“Running 25?”
“Thousand?”
“Yes. And the student population is high.
“Ouch! That’s a big money. Nursing schools are getting’ richer and richer?”
Laughs.
The cutting session ended at 7:30. Jimmy was in a hurry after signing out at the shop. Cookie sent a text message: Hury, pusy wnts ur birdie & ur red nest.
His last customer was the only one who didn’t give him a tip that day.
There was one instance that Jimmy announced that he’s a member of the third sex, for a purpose.
Bong had a customer who went to ALK with a girlfriend. The customer was a huge muscular man who ordered a military cut. He could have refered him to Cesar, napping on his cutting chair, who is good at military cuts. But the costumer sat on his cutting area as he entered and with his giant of an overall package, Bong began to cut as soonn as possible.
All the barbers in the shop agreed in their minds that Bong’s customer’s GF was something they wished to screw on bed. The woman wore tight spaghetti straps revealing her coconuts and clean cleavage, not to mention her red mini skirt. But then, the crush of the shop was none other than Bong. The barbers were expecting the woman to go flirting with the youngest barber.
In the middle of bong’s cutting, his customer’s GF stood up and tapped him.
“Excuse me boy…where’s the CR?” She looked on him straight to the eyes which made Bong uncomfortable.
“Uhm…that door Ma’am…over there…”
“Thank you.” The woman passed by him and seemed to push on him her boobs.
“AHEM!” Bong’s customer muttered.
Bong continued to cut hair. After five minutes, the woman returned and to Bong’s surprise, she cupped his butts suddenly as she passed by him. Whatta fuck! Oh God, not again…don’t you tease me bitch! As Bong looked back, he saw a pink hanky on his feet. Whore! She dropped it on purpose.
“Ma’am is this yours?” Bong said forcively.
“Oh yes. Oh thank you dear boy.”
As Bong handed the hankerchief, there was a sudden crash. Bong’s customer had smashed the front mirror to pieces. Chit screamed. The other barbers stopped cutting. A customer ran out terrified.
“HEY BARBER! YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHY ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH MY FIANCEE?” the angry customer said.
“Flirting? I wasn’t…I don’t do that Sir. She-”
“FUCK OFF! I SAW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” At that moment, he grabbed a monobloc chair and was about to hit Bong with it. “I’LL KILL YOU BASTARD!”
“Stop!” Jimmy backed-up.
Everyone’s eyes were at him. She approached that mad customer with his hips moving like that of a duck. His fellow barbers concluded that Jimmy was truly gay.
So come out his true colors, Cesar thought.
“Sir, Bong wasn’t flirting with your fiancée…why would he?” Jimmy was speaking in a feminine voice.
“YOU FAGGOT…WHAT DO YOU MEAN “WHY WOULD HE DO THAT”?! I SAW IT!”
“My sistah Bong, Mister Macho, won’t have an urge Sir. He’s gay…we’re in the same federation…”
Bong understood that Jimmy was just helping him. “Oh yes, Sir. I’m a badash! Actually, I was looking at your fiancée because I wanna do her pretty long hair.” He was knocking on wood behind his back.
The customer’s girlfriend bitchily nodded. She was obviously nervous. After Bong spoke like being possessed by Marilyn Monroe, his angry customer became calm.
“Oh…alright…I apologize. Gee…this place has faggots? You-” He pointed at Cesar. “…You finish my cut…I won’t let this faggot touch me again. YUCK!”
Everyone was back to business. Cesar finished the military cut. Bong signaled Jimmy to go outside for a while.
“Thanks for that,” Bong said. “That man’s horrible. He could have killed me.”
“That’s nothing.” Jimmy chuckled.
“But that’s embarrassing! I mean…yuck! Are you really-”
“Gay? Please Bong, that’s just a drama. How many times do I have to tell you guys that I’m not gay!”
“Okay. Thanks again. I’ll treat you and the rest this weekend. Tis my birthday.”
“NEEEEHA!”
They were at Maryo’s that Saturday night. There were only five of them. Ferdinand didn’t drink and went home after giving Bong new scissors as gift.
“Happy birthday to you…hap berday tya…” Ben was singing on and on. He was drunk, as well as the the others.
They had emptied two cases of Red Horse already.
“Guys…thank you for the friendship,” Bong said.
“Let’s toast to that.”
“CHEERS!”
Laughs.
“So Jimmy, how does it feel exposing your cape? You’re like Rustom Padilla…mariposa…” Cesar said.
Jimmy was so drunk. He was having a slurred speech when he replied, “I said I’m not gay.”
“YOU ARE GAY!”
“Yeah…you’re so gay…”
“It’s okay Jimmy…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo…”
“I’M NOT GAY!” Jimmy stood up and said loudly then fell back on his seat. “I’m not…I can prove to you…”
“Prove this…” Cesar who was beside Jimmy opened his pants’ zippers and freed his erected birdie out. “SUCK THIS JIMMY! Let my cock be the first one you suck…”
It was dark in the beerhouse. No one noticed the immorality the four barbers were doing to their fellow barber.
“Go on Jimmy…”
“Tell me the taste…”
“Suck mine next…haha…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo…”
Jimmy was weak. With Cesar pushing his head to suck his penis, he was forced to do it. He was suffocated. Cesar’s cock was humongous. He wanted to vomit. He did vomit when Cesar exploded his semen to his mouth.
Hangover. Jimmy was absent to his work the next day. His mind was rotating like roulette. He wanted to vomit but there was nothing more to vomit. His stomach was in pain with gallons of acid. He couldn’t lift up his body.
Words from the previous night’s event were echoing in his thoughts.
You’re gay…
Suck this Jimmy…
Girlaloo…girlaloo…
And he recalled how Cesar forced him to suck his smelly penis. Damn you! Shit! What am I supposed to do? They might be laughing at me right now. CESAR! You son if a bitch! I’ll kill ya…
He searched for his cell phone. The screen said 18 messages recived. I’m not gay…I was forced…
He dialed Cookie’s number. I’m not…I’m not…I’ll kill him…
“Hello?” Jimmy heard Cookie’s voice.
“Cook…kie…oh…”
“What happened to you? I was texting you the whole morning and you weren’t replying. Are you alright?”
“Babes…come over…do me a favor…”
“Okay. I’m coming. Is your hair still red?”
Monday morning. ALK Barber Shop would have few customers on that day since the week is just beginning. Upon arriving, the barbers would usually sit down on their cutting chairs and read newspapers while awaiting for a customer to enter. It was 9:30 and there were only five barbers in the shop.
“Where’s Jimmy? Still absent?” Chit asked while sweeping the floors.
The barbers looked at each other and grinned.
“Dunno. We’re texting him. No replies.”
“Might be ashamed oh what he did last Saturday.”
“Might be reflecting…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo girlaloo laloo laloo…”
As Voltaire hummed, the door of ALK burst open and in came Jimmy with Cookie holding his arm.
“Sorry guys…I was late,” he said with a smile. Everyone was stunned. “Neways, I want you to witness this special event in my life.”
Jimmy got a small box from his pocket and flipped it open. It was a ring. He turned to Cookie who was wearing thick makeup. “Babes, will you marry me?”
“YES!” Cookie replied loudly.
Jimmy kissed Cookie torridly in front of his fellow barbers who were dumbstruck.
“You,” Jimmy turned to Cesar who was reading Bandera. “I always thought you’ll be a good Best Man…”
He then punched poor Cesar in the face which made him fall unconsciously on the floor.
“…Not anymore you pervert!”
A month later, Jimmy and Cookie were married. It wasn’t a grand wedding. They had a judge.
Jimmy’s hair was back to blond. Cookie was three months pregnant.
Mr. Gonzaga and Ferdinand were godfathers.
Bong was the Best Man.
Voltaire and Ben were groom’s men.
Chit was a bride’s maid, her dream come true.
Reception was at Apollo’s Restaurant.
Cesar received no invitation.
When Jim “Jimmy” Tagle entered to work at ALK Barber Shop, he became the subject of his co-workers’ gay jokes.
“Wow! Bongga your hair!” Ben, the funny barber, would say referring to Jimmy’s long blond hair.
“Girlaloo girlaloo girlaloo laloo laloo…” Voltaire would hum along seeing Jimmy arriving at the shop.
“You’re sexier than my damn wife!” Bong, the newest barber, would comment Jimmy’s thin body.
“Oh my…you move more feminine than I am,” Chit, the receptionist-cashier-janitress, once said seeing Jimmy cleaning his cutting area.
“Jimmy! Want a free blow-job?” Cesar, the muscular barber, would give the grossiest insult.
The only one who never teased him was Ferdinand, the barber who was old enough to say such jokes.
Jimmy didn’t take his colleagues’ jokes seriously. If that was how they would befriend him, then let them be. Jimmy knew for himself that he wasn’t gay. I’m damn straight! Who could blame the other barbers teasing him? He had an overall package of that of a faggot. He was as slim as Mother Ricky Reyes and his hair was heavily dyed like that of Tim Yap.
He would only disagree when people in ALK would call him ‘Jimmy’ while his real name was plainly ‘Jim’. It was only in ALK that he had been called such. I got a short name and they’re complicating things adding up another syllable. Argh! But as time passed by, he was used to it. ‘Jimmy’ was better than ‘Jim Jim’, a name that a customer once called him.
Jimmy grew up in a squatters’ area in Brgy. Bata. He had never seen his parents and he grew up never wanting to see them. His grandmother raised him. All he knew about his parents, as told by his Lola Maring, was that they separated when he was just an infant and they explored the whole wide world in search of themselves.
Lola Maring owned a sari-sari store. Every afternoon, people would swarm at the store to drink tuba or play pusoy dos. Jimmy, as a young boy, would help his grandma look after the store. It was there that he adapted neatness. He arranged the de latas, chichiryas, noodles, and other dry goods very well such that people would be attracted to buy.
He was not malnourished. The reason why he was thin all his life was Lola Maring’s tuberculosis. With the populated area where they lived, the disease was common. If only he had a mother who was responsible enough to bring him to the health center when he was a baby and have his BCG vaccine. It was too late. He was already exposed to the bacilli and was treated with Kid’s Kit.
The mycobacterium finally killed Lola Maring when Jimmy was in high school. Since then, Jimmy was alone and continued his grandma’s mini-business. He couldn’t afford college education. He was a bum after graduating high school.
As a sideline, he tried to cut his neighbor’s hair and earned 10 pesos per head. He had no experience in cutting hair. He did it out of desperation to add something for his weekly budget. His first works were horrible and he catered only kids. But as he mastered the craft, he began having adult customers. He even had women.
It was an uncle of one of his customers in the squatters’ area, who invited him to work at ALK Barber Shop in Brgy. Villamonte. That man was a regular suki of ALK that time. With his expertise, Jimmy was immediately hired by Mr. Gonzaga, the owner of the barber shop.
Lola Maring’s Sari-Sari Store was closed. Jimmy sold the house in Bata since he was tired of the sqatter’s life. He rented a small apartment in Villamonte.
Maybe, one reason why his fellow barbers kept on making fun of him was that, many costumers liked Jimmy and he always got larger tips.
One day, a rich-looking man entered the barber shop and, being a phenomenon, those barbers who had no costumers yet alerted themselves to serve the man who might give them a big tip. Ferdinand and Jimmy had customers. The other four prepared themselves.
“Haircut Sir?” chorused the four.
“Yes but…I’m waiting for my son,” the customer said.
“You may seat for a while, Sir,” Chit said who was sweeping the mountains of hair on the floor.
“Thank you.”
When Jimmy was done with his customer, the rich-looking man suddenly stood up and went to his cutting area.
“Barber’s cut please,” Jimmy’s new customer requested.
As Jimmy began to work, his fellow barbers were backbiting him.
Damn that faggot!
He always gets the best customer.
I thought he’s waiting for his son? Was that an alibi?
He might give him as much as the fee.
On the other hand, Jimmy was thinking, Seems like I can’t take a break. His stomach was thundering.
The price for ordinary haircut that time was already 50 Php for students and 60 Php for regulars. After the cutting his hair, the rich-looking customer gave Jimmy a violet bill.
“Thank you Sir, come again,” Jimmy said as he inserted his 100 pesos in his pocket.
“I will.”
When the customer was out, Cesar, whose cutting area was beside Jimmy’s, broke from silence.
“Hey Fanny Serrano…what’s you’re secret huh? Why do you always have the richest customers?”
“I dunno,” Jimmy replied. “Maybe it’s my being Fanny Serrano.”
Cesar gave a sarcastic laugh.
After a few minutes, another rich-looking customer sat at Jimmy’s cutting area.
Jimmy had a girlfriend, a waitress in a KTV bar.
“Babes, I want your hair red…too much of the brown days,” Cookie told Jimmy one night in the bar. Jimmy would go the place every night after work.
“What?!” Jimmy replied almost spilling the beer. “I dyed my hair with this color from bluish last month and now you want me become a brunette?”
“Do it…please…red hair makes me horny nowadays…”
Jimmy’s girlfriend had admitted that her fetish was colored hair. It was weird and Jimmy couldn’t adapt to it at first. When they made love, Cookie would lick his hair hungrily or rub her pussy on the colored strands. What kind of a woman fell in love with me?
“NO WAY! My friends at the barber shop already think that I’m gay…because of this damn hair!”
Silence.
Sobs.
Growls.
“WELL THEN! NO RED HAIR, NO SEX!”
It was loud. But the voice of a drunken man singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way at the table nearby overcame Cookie’s mouth.
“Shhh…alright…okay…fine…red hair…”
Cookie jumped joyfully like a little girl winning in jackstone. Then she returned to her barber lover and whispered slowly in his ears, “Exhaust me tonight. I wanna make love to your brown hair one last time…”
“You’ve been here before, right?” Jimmy asked his customer one evening. Plus Chit, they were the only ones left in the shop. Closing time of ALK was 7pm. The late customer arrived around 6:45 and poor Jimmy decided to serve.
“Yup! Twice I think,” the customer replied. He was young, a college guy. He was wearing an all-white uniform.
“What’s your course?”
“Nursing.”
“Good choice! Nurses are in demand abroad, right?”
“Uhoh, goin’ the flow.”
“T’was my dream to be a nurse. But we got no money. So this is my fate.” Lola Maring, if I would be a nurse someday, I will cure your TB.
“Don’t say that…at least you’re not begging on the streets.”
Laughs.
“How much is the tuition per semester nowadays?” Jimmy asked.
“Running 25?”
“Thousand?”
“Yes. And the student population is high.
“Ouch! That’s a big money. Nursing schools are getting’ richer and richer?”
Laughs.
The cutting session ended at 7:30. Jimmy was in a hurry after signing out at the shop. Cookie sent a text message: Hury, pusy wnts ur birdie & ur red nest.
His last customer was the only one who didn’t give him a tip that day.
There was one instance that Jimmy announced that he’s a member of the third sex, for a purpose.
Bong had a customer who went to ALK with a girlfriend. The customer was a huge muscular man who ordered a military cut. He could have refered him to Cesar, napping on his cutting chair, who is good at military cuts. But the costumer sat on his cutting area as he entered and with his giant of an overall package, Bong began to cut as soonn as possible.
All the barbers in the shop agreed in their minds that Bong’s customer’s GF was something they wished to screw on bed. The woman wore tight spaghetti straps revealing her coconuts and clean cleavage, not to mention her red mini skirt. But then, the crush of the shop was none other than Bong. The barbers were expecting the woman to go flirting with the youngest barber.
In the middle of bong’s cutting, his customer’s GF stood up and tapped him.
“Excuse me boy…where’s the CR?” She looked on him straight to the eyes which made Bong uncomfortable.
“Uhm…that door Ma’am…over there…”
“Thank you.” The woman passed by him and seemed to push on him her boobs.
“AHEM!” Bong’s customer muttered.
Bong continued to cut hair. After five minutes, the woman returned and to Bong’s surprise, she cupped his butts suddenly as she passed by him. Whatta fuck! Oh God, not again…don’t you tease me bitch! As Bong looked back, he saw a pink hanky on his feet. Whore! She dropped it on purpose.
“Ma’am is this yours?” Bong said forcively.
“Oh yes. Oh thank you dear boy.”
As Bong handed the hankerchief, there was a sudden crash. Bong’s customer had smashed the front mirror to pieces. Chit screamed. The other barbers stopped cutting. A customer ran out terrified.
“HEY BARBER! YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHY ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH MY FIANCEE?” the angry customer said.
“Flirting? I wasn’t…I don’t do that Sir. She-”
“FUCK OFF! I SAW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” At that moment, he grabbed a monobloc chair and was about to hit Bong with it. “I’LL KILL YOU BASTARD!”
“Stop!” Jimmy backed-up.
Everyone’s eyes were at him. She approached that mad customer with his hips moving like that of a duck. His fellow barbers concluded that Jimmy was truly gay.
So come out his true colors, Cesar thought.
“Sir, Bong wasn’t flirting with your fiancée…why would he?” Jimmy was speaking in a feminine voice.
“YOU FAGGOT…WHAT DO YOU MEAN “WHY WOULD HE DO THAT”?! I SAW IT!”
“My sistah Bong, Mister Macho, won’t have an urge Sir. He’s gay…we’re in the same federation…”
Bong understood that Jimmy was just helping him. “Oh yes, Sir. I’m a badash! Actually, I was looking at your fiancée because I wanna do her pretty long hair.” He was knocking on wood behind his back.
The customer’s girlfriend bitchily nodded. She was obviously nervous. After Bong spoke like being possessed by Marilyn Monroe, his angry customer became calm.
“Oh…alright…I apologize. Gee…this place has faggots? You-” He pointed at Cesar. “…You finish my cut…I won’t let this faggot touch me again. YUCK!”
Everyone was back to business. Cesar finished the military cut. Bong signaled Jimmy to go outside for a while.
“Thanks for that,” Bong said. “That man’s horrible. He could have killed me.”
“That’s nothing.” Jimmy chuckled.
“But that’s embarrassing! I mean…yuck! Are you really-”
“Gay? Please Bong, that’s just a drama. How many times do I have to tell you guys that I’m not gay!”
“Okay. Thanks again. I’ll treat you and the rest this weekend. Tis my birthday.”
“NEEEEHA!”
They were at Maryo’s that Saturday night. There were only five of them. Ferdinand didn’t drink and went home after giving Bong new scissors as gift.
“Happy birthday to you…hap berday tya…” Ben was singing on and on. He was drunk, as well as the the others.
They had emptied two cases of Red Horse already.
“Guys…thank you for the friendship,” Bong said.
“Let’s toast to that.”
“CHEERS!”
Laughs.
“So Jimmy, how does it feel exposing your cape? You’re like Rustom Padilla…mariposa…” Cesar said.
Jimmy was so drunk. He was having a slurred speech when he replied, “I said I’m not gay.”
“YOU ARE GAY!”
“Yeah…you’re so gay…”
“It’s okay Jimmy…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo…”
“I’M NOT GAY!” Jimmy stood up and said loudly then fell back on his seat. “I’m not…I can prove to you…”
“Prove this…” Cesar who was beside Jimmy opened his pants’ zippers and freed his erected birdie out. “SUCK THIS JIMMY! Let my cock be the first one you suck…”
It was dark in the beerhouse. No one noticed the immorality the four barbers were doing to their fellow barber.
“Go on Jimmy…”
“Tell me the taste…”
“Suck mine next…haha…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo…”
Jimmy was weak. With Cesar pushing his head to suck his penis, he was forced to do it. He was suffocated. Cesar’s cock was humongous. He wanted to vomit. He did vomit when Cesar exploded his semen to his mouth.
Hangover. Jimmy was absent to his work the next day. His mind was rotating like roulette. He wanted to vomit but there was nothing more to vomit. His stomach was in pain with gallons of acid. He couldn’t lift up his body.
Words from the previous night’s event were echoing in his thoughts.
You’re gay…
Suck this Jimmy…
Girlaloo…girlaloo…
And he recalled how Cesar forced him to suck his smelly penis. Damn you! Shit! What am I supposed to do? They might be laughing at me right now. CESAR! You son if a bitch! I’ll kill ya…
He searched for his cell phone. The screen said 18 messages recived. I’m not gay…I was forced…
He dialed Cookie’s number. I’m not…I’m not…I’ll kill him…
“Hello?” Jimmy heard Cookie’s voice.
“Cook…kie…oh…”
“What happened to you? I was texting you the whole morning and you weren’t replying. Are you alright?”
“Babes…come over…do me a favor…”
“Okay. I’m coming. Is your hair still red?”
Monday morning. ALK Barber Shop would have few customers on that day since the week is just beginning. Upon arriving, the barbers would usually sit down on their cutting chairs and read newspapers while awaiting for a customer to enter. It was 9:30 and there were only five barbers in the shop.
“Where’s Jimmy? Still absent?” Chit asked while sweeping the floors.
The barbers looked at each other and grinned.
“Dunno. We’re texting him. No replies.”
“Might be ashamed oh what he did last Saturday.”
“Might be reflecting…”
“Girlaloo girlaloo girlaloo laloo laloo…”
As Voltaire hummed, the door of ALK burst open and in came Jimmy with Cookie holding his arm.
“Sorry guys…I was late,” he said with a smile. Everyone was stunned. “Neways, I want you to witness this special event in my life.”
Jimmy got a small box from his pocket and flipped it open. It was a ring. He turned to Cookie who was wearing thick makeup. “Babes, will you marry me?”
“YES!” Cookie replied loudly.
Jimmy kissed Cookie torridly in front of his fellow barbers who were dumbstruck.
“You,” Jimmy turned to Cesar who was reading Bandera. “I always thought you’ll be a good Best Man…”
He then punched poor Cesar in the face which made him fall unconsciously on the floor.
“…Not anymore you pervert!”
A month later, Jimmy and Cookie were married. It wasn’t a grand wedding. They had a judge.
Jimmy’s hair was back to blond. Cookie was three months pregnant.
Mr. Gonzaga and Ferdinand were godfathers.
Bong was the Best Man.
Voltaire and Ben were groom’s men.
Chit was a bride’s maid, her dream come true.
Reception was at Apollo’s Restaurant.
Cesar received no invitation.
b e n
Benedict Jalandoni Jr. was born in Silay City but grew up in California, USA. His father, an engineer, migrated in the States with his family in 1978, when Martial Law was the cancer of the Philippines.
His friends called him ‘Ben’. He preferred it. As a young boy in America, he would punch his classmates for calling him ‘Dict’ because, as what he heard from older bullies, that name means a guy’s humongous genitalia. He and his younger sister, Benilde, went on the same primary school. But as they went older, they were separated because Ben was fond of bullying those who picked on his sister.
His father, working in a great company, never had time for his son. Ben loathed his father for being too busy. Yes, they were rich. But his father was aiming to be the first Filipino millionaire in California. He had no time for his son. Ben’s most unforgettable moment in childhood was his 7th birthday party. It was the only birthday that his father was present and gave him his first Transformers toy robot.
Ben was addicted to Transformers. From his Optimus Prime, he had Bumblebee, Starscream, Megatron, Ravage, and many others added to his collection. Though his father had little love for him, his mother spoiled him so much. She would buy his beloved son a new robot by Hasbro every time they go shopping.
“Mom, it’s okay Dad’s not coming to my 12th birthday dinner. But I want the latest version of Optimus Prime.”
Even high school could not stop Ben’s childish collection.
In America, racial discrimination is the worst thing that came out from Pandora’s box. Being a racist was Benedict Senior’s mortal sin.
It was a quarrel with his boss that ended Ben’s father’s career. One day, Engr. Jalandoni was called by Engr. David Tyrone, his black American superior.
“You called for me, sir?”
“Yes Jalandoni. Sit down please.”
Benedict Senior sat on the chair while Engr. Tyrone opened a folder.
“I have here some reports regarding your work for the last two years. Sorry to tell you Jalandoni, the company is very much disappointed…”
“Disappointed? For what?”
“Lacking cement bags…missing galvanized irons…malfunctioning electrical systems in Project 176…a number of people are pointing at you being responsible for these things.”
“What?! You believe those morons? They’re just jealous, sir, I was doing my job well…I mean, goddamnit…those supplies…the hell-”
“Your language please, Engr. Jalandoni.”
“Look Tyrone, I am not responsible with those shit-”
“YOU’RE RUDE JALANDONI…I’LL REPORT YOU TO THE HEAD MANAGEMENT!”
Benedict Senior was quiet for a moment. He fixed himself, moved closer to his boss and whispered, “I don’t give a damn, NIGGAH, if you tell those above with your lies and your fat BLACK ASS!”
Engr. Jones, the black American president of the company who was listening secretly somewhere, entered the David Tyrone’s office and ejaculated, “YOU’RE FIRED MR. JALANDONI!”
The next month, the family Jalandoni was on their way back to the Philippines.
“What are your plans for now, darling,” Mrs. Jalandoni asked his husband on board of an Emirates aircraft.
“I’m tired of working. Maybe we can begin a business in Bacolod…and I’ll be a good father to Ben and Beni.”
They kissed.
Corny, 16-year-old Ben thought seeing his parents kissing. He was on the window seat, hugging his Optimus Prime. He only brought his Autobot Transformers collection. He sold his Decepticons to his friends in California who were also Transformers maniacs.
Seeing the clouds, he missed Starscream.
Benedict Jalandoni Sr. could’ve stayed in California and fulfill his dream of being the first Filipino millionaire there. But then he got his pride. Stupid Negroes! They’re just jealous a brown-skinned engineer’s far better than them. He wanted the company to apologize to him. He was just waiting for their call. I just stole five sacks of cement…that’s all! Some of my colleagues were doing worse…
They sold their house in Silay a long time ago. They bought a new house in Bacolod. The engineer was rich so the house was kind of a mansion. As what he said, Benedict Senior was tired of working. So as soon as they’re settled in the city, they began their business: B & B Motor Parts and Supplies.
Ben was enrolled by his mother at USLS Integrated School to finish his high school so he could proceed to college. His father was forcing him to take up medicine, as engineering he said was a pain in the ass. Benilde was enrolled at St. Scholastica’s Academy.
At first, it was hard for teenage Ben to adapt. He was a loser in junior high back their in California. In his new school, since he was English-speaking, his classmates seemed to rely on him. In the States, teachers are the students’ toys. In USLS-IS, teachers rhyme with terror.
Ben was fine after a month, knew the ropes already, knew some people. He happened, however, to make friends with some bad guys.
“We’re goin to Jason’s this weekend.”
“Cool. What’s the trip?” Ben asked.
“Pop session.”
That Saturday, Ben felt like he’s Starscream, a robot freely soaring in the skies.
“SHIT!” Engr. Jalandoni cursed as he smashed a glass of wine.
“What’s the matter dear? Oh…Teray, clean this mess here…”
“Honey, look at these papers…” Benedict Senior poured another wine. His veins were visible in his neck and forehead. “DAMNIT! Few customers so far…Masami Gears pulled out their stocks…no one of my friends are willing to invest…”
“Patience, Benny dear, we’re just beginning in the business.”
SMASH!
“Patience? It’s almost a year? I should’ve thought that there’s a lot of competition in this sort of business.”
“Teray, that mess again. Please. Oh Hon, why don’t we try other businesses? A grocery store perhaps…or a restaur-”
SMASH!
“HIJO DE PUTA! What am I? I’ll not settle with such business for faggots. I’m an engineer, for Christ’s sake…”
“I’m just suggesting, Hon. Actually, my friend Andrea Gamboa would like to invest if we would-”
“Enough! I must save this business once and for all. You know my pride.”
“But Benedict…you said it yourself…the business is-”
SMASH!
Ben had three girlfriends left in the US. But they were just his lust. He never felt so much in love with Monica, his girlfriend in college.
“You love Transformers too?” College freshman Ben asked his classmate in a Biology class which he began courting a week later.
“Uhoh…I love Bumblebee.” Monica smiles perfectly but she’s not that pretty compared to those Ben had screwed in bed. But that’s what Ben he in her. Pretty girls cheat on you.
“You’re a tomboy?” Ben chuckled.
“Of course not! I just hate Barbie when I was a kid. I’m a Papa’s girl…he’s got a collection of Transformers too. He influenced me.”
“Cool.” I envy you. I’m a Mama’s boy.
Christmas of 1995 was Ben’s worst nightmare. The noche buena was ready. His mother went to wake Benilde in her room. His father went to wake him up.
“Merry Chris – wha…what are you doing?”
He was caught red-handed. The foil was on his nose, sniffing the last smoke of amphetamine.
“DAD! WHY DIDN’T YOU KNOCK!”
“Is this…oh my God! SHABU?! Come here you devil!”
Engr. Jalandoni wrestled with his son. His rage made him mad as a toro. He was Hulk Hogan kicking and punching his poor opponent. “STUPID! THIS IS YOUR GIFT FOR ME?! YOU’RE A DISGRACE IN THE FAMILY!”
A minute had passed since Ben was caught sniffing drugs, he was already bloody and his body was burning with pain.
“Benedict! Ben!” Mrs. Jalandoni came horrified. “What happened…oh my God! Teray! Call an ambulance…”
They had their noche buena in room 504 of Riverside Hospital. Ben got three stitches in the forehead. He had an x-ray for possible fracture in his arm. He was asleep in his Bed. He was murmuring from time to time. “I’m Starscream…go Decepticons…I’m flyin…”
Engr. Jalandoni told the doctor that his son went home already in that condition.
“…Might have been with frat rumbles…you know…college boys…”
“He’s hallucinating, Engr. Jalandoni. We suggest for a drug test…” The doctor said.
“DRUG TEST?! What do you think of my son, Doc? Addict? No…I won’t allow that. He’s fine…he’s a good boy…not into shab – oh…drugs or anythin…”
Ben was forgiven. His family wouldn’t stand the embrassment if anyone knew he was a drug addict. But then, Engr. Jalandoni made sure his son wouldn’t do anything stupid again. Ben was grounded. He must be home from school by 9pm. He was forbidden to see his friends. His allowance reduced.
But it was no reason for an addict to quit the addiction.
“Hey Brian,” Ben called his classmate one day. “You love Transformers, right?”
“I do! Megatron…terrorize! Haha.”
“Okay. Are you interested buying some of my robot collection? They’re imported…I reduced the price. I just need money badly.”
He used the money for shabu. He was too careful not to be caught again with his pot sessions. He outwitted his father.
“You’re selling you’re robots? How come?” Monica asked his boyfriend for two years.
“I have a lot already. I need to dispatch some.”
“I thought your toys are valuable to you? In fact, I get jealous with them sometimes.”
“I think I’m just growing up. And don’t ya worry…I still got Bumblebee.” And my beloved Optimus Prime, the one Dad gave me when I was seven.
He was on his third year and just had their final exams. His brain would want to explode with Anatomy. He didn’t love taking up medicine, actually. He was just in his pre-med course but he already wanted to give up. Five years to go before he could add an M.D. in his last name.
Ben arrived in their house which was silent that evening. The only sound he could hear was Teray washing the dishes in the kitchen. His mother wasn’t around. Might be in her evening shopping again. His sister was in the sala, reading a book. When he entered, Benilde looked at him suspiciously.
He climbed the stairs to his room. The door was open. He was surprised to see his father sitting on his bed.
“Good evening, son.” Engr. Jalandoni smiled to Ben’s surprise.
“Good evening.” He placed his knapsack on his study table. He didn’t kiss his father, or do mano po. He was never used to it.
“How’s my doctor? Pefected the exams?”
Silence.
“I’m asking you, Benedict Junior.” The engineer was serious now.
“Fine! I’m fine! School’s fine!”
Ben’s father stood up and approached him while he was changing his uniform.
“You’re so hyperactive…are you into drugs again?”
Silence.
“Answer me…are you sniffing something again?”
“Dad…I stopped.”
PUNCH!
Ben fell on the floor. His sight was darkening. The last thing he saw was his Dad above him, holding a strip of aluminum foil.
Ben woke up in the hospital the next day. His mother was crying beside him. Benilde was reading a book in the couch. Teray was slicing apples. His father was standing beside his mother with his arms crossed on his chest.
“Anak? Ben? Oh…he’s awake…”
“Mom? Where am I?”
Mrs. Jalandoni tightened her grasp with her son’s arm. “Shhh…don’t speak…the stitches will hurt…”
“DON’T TREAT HER LIKE HE’S STILL A BABY, CECILIA!” Engr. Jalandoni spoke. “The reason why he’s that is because you spoil him very much.”
“Don’t blame me, Anton,” Ben’s mother turned to his father. “It’s your fault. You were never a good father to him.”
“Mom…”
“Shhh…”
“I worked so hard for their future…and I’m a bad father? Ha!”
“You never had time for him. He was longing for your love.”
“STOP! My fault or your fault, that is no matter of concern as of now. YOU Benedict Junior will be going back to the States.”
Mrs. Jalandoni sobbed harder.
“Dad…” Ben forced to talk. “I’m not going back there.”
“Of course you are. We’ll just tell everybody that you went back to California to finish your studies. But the truth is…”
Three weeks later, Ben was confined at St. Anthony’s Rehabilitation Center.
His anger to his father worsened. Ben would never forgive his father for keeping him in a rehab center. His freedom was taken. He could no longer soar to the skies with Starscream.
The withdrawal symptoms were killing him. He couldn’t sleep at night. He could see monsters. He could hear different voices. He felt losing his sanity.
Troubled by his sad fate, Ben, though, did help himself to be detoxified. Someday I’ll get out of here. Dad will regret this. I hate him!
His only hope was Monica. He had made Optimus Prime, the last robot left from his collection, his security blanket while in the rehab center.
Seven months later, Benedict Jalandoni Jr. was to be released from St. Anthony’s. He was overjoyed. Goodbye to the cage.
His mother and sister fetched him in the rehab center riding a taxi.
“Where’s the van?” Ben asked his mother.
“Oh…you’re Dad sold it last month. Business is getting worse. Poor sales…”
“I’m excited to see Dad.”
“You are?” Benilde asked surprisingly.
“Why not?” Ben replied.
“Your father’s not ready to see you yet…that’s why he didn’t go with us.”
“Well, I’m ready to see him.” I’ll kill him when I see him.
They were home at last. Ben was shocked to see that there was no longer grandeur. The paintings were gone. The piano was gone. Teray was gone, fired by his father according to his mother’s tales in the taxi.
“Where’s father?” Ben asked when they were settled in the sala.
“Maybe in her room,” Benilde replied.
“I’ll see him.”
“Don’t take it so long,” his mother said from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready…I cooked your favorite estofado…”
Ben climbed up the stairs excitedly. He had waited that moment. He got out his pocket knife which he sharpened secretly in the rehab center. He would stab his father before he could say a word. You deserve to go to hell.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
BANG!
He thought it was his third knock. No! It’s a gunshot!
Ben had an adrenaline rush. He heard his mother and sister screaming downstairs. He kicked the door to open.
He found his father lying bloddy on the floor with a gun on his mouth.
On the floor were scattered letters. Letters of bankruptcy. Letters from pulling out investors. Letters of poor sales. Letters of filed estafa case.
DAMNIT! You’re unfair! Why didn’t you wait for me to do it for you?
Ben spitted on his father’s body before his horrified mother and sister arrived in the tragic scene.
B & B Motor Parts and Supplies was closed. All the properties of the Jalandoni family were taken by the bank. The mansion was gone. Ben and his mother and sister moved in to a smaller house.
“Argh! I hate this life!’ Benilde voiced out in their new home. “What will my friends say? All my pocketbooks were gone.”
“Stop it, Beni…you have to adapt to this life now,” her mother said.
“It’s his entire fault! If only he didn’t give Dad such headache…”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Ben became angry all of the sudden.
“It’s your fault why we’re poor now! Dad could’ve solved his problems only if he wasn’t minding you as a prob-”
SLAP!
“What happened to Dad was his fault.”
“You wait til I finish my studies, you addict…” Benilde was crying. “I’ll take Mom away from you…away from this place…”
Monica. He hadn’t seen her for ages. Ben was desperate to hug her, kiss her, talk to her. He was on his lowest times. Monica was his hope. Maybe his girlfriend could help her.
He wanted to surprise her. He waited in front of their house. Monica might be graduating BS Biology now…
It was late in the evening. A car stopped in front of Monica’s house. In the dark, from a distance, Ben was heartbroken seeing Monica going out of the car with a man. They kissed under the moonlight.
Back home, Ben was very much disappointed. The first thing he saw in his room was his Optimus Prime. He grabbed it and smashed it on the floor.
The next day, he placed the broken pieces of Optimus Prime in a box and left it at the gate in front of Monica’s house.
Ben was back to his old ways. He could no longer afford for shabu. He tried marijuana.
Benilde didn’t finish her studies. She was able to contact her rich boyfriend back there in California who was dying to marry her. She didn’t love the guy but she had no choice. When the guy sent her dollars for her to go to USA, she grabbed the opportunity and took her mother with her.
They left Ben alone in poverty.
Ben applied for different jobs to earn a living. He had been a waiter, a salesboy, a factory worker, a vendor, a carwasher. His wage, though, was never enough. He missed amphetamine. He would do everything to afford buying it again.
“Do you know how to cut hair?” a fellow waiter asked Ben one day.
“Uhmm…not quite good but I can…”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, I did cut my fellows’ hairs back there in the rehabilitation center. A friend of mine there has taught me with scissors.”
“Good then. There’s a famous barber shop in Villamonte. The owner is kind, gives high salary if you do your job well. And rich customers give large tips. My uncle has just retired from his work there. Maybe you could replace him.”
“Day off tomorrow, right?”
“Uhoh.”
“What’s the name of the barber shop?”
“ALK.”
“I’ll go there.
The next day, Benedict went to see Mr. Gonzaga, owner of ALK Barber Shop.
“Before I hire you, I want you see you cut for a sample,” said Mr. Gonzaga.
“I’ll do that, sir.”
At that moment, a woman entered the shop with her 3-year-old son in her arms.
“Sir, I want my son’s hair cut…but he’s having tantrums. He fears the electric razors,” the woman said.
Ben grabbed the opportunity. “Oh really? Hey boy…wanna play with Manong Ben? C’mon…sit here. This electric razor you know is a robot…it’s a Transformer!”
Mr. Gonzaga was amazed. The child behaved all throughout the hair-cutting process. Ben did it with no hassle.
“You’re hired. If you want, you can start today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“From now on, you cut the kids’ hairs.”
Benedict Jalandoni Jr. was born in Silay City but grew up in California, USA. His father, an engineer, migrated in the States with his family in 1978, when Martial Law was the cancer of the Philippines.
His friends called him ‘Ben’. He preferred it. As a young boy in America, he would punch his classmates for calling him ‘Dict’ because, as what he heard from older bullies, that name means a guy’s humongous genitalia. He and his younger sister, Benilde, went on the same primary school. But as they went older, they were separated because Ben was fond of bullying those who picked on his sister.
His father, working in a great company, never had time for his son. Ben loathed his father for being too busy. Yes, they were rich. But his father was aiming to be the first Filipino millionaire in California. He had no time for his son. Ben’s most unforgettable moment in childhood was his 7th birthday party. It was the only birthday that his father was present and gave him his first Transformers toy robot.
Ben was addicted to Transformers. From his Optimus Prime, he had Bumblebee, Starscream, Megatron, Ravage, and many others added to his collection. Though his father had little love for him, his mother spoiled him so much. She would buy his beloved son a new robot by Hasbro every time they go shopping.
“Mom, it’s okay Dad’s not coming to my 12th birthday dinner. But I want the latest version of Optimus Prime.”
Even high school could not stop Ben’s childish collection.
In America, racial discrimination is the worst thing that came out from Pandora’s box. Being a racist was Benedict Senior’s mortal sin.
It was a quarrel with his boss that ended Ben’s father’s career. One day, Engr. Jalandoni was called by Engr. David Tyrone, his black American superior.
“You called for me, sir?”
“Yes Jalandoni. Sit down please.”
Benedict Senior sat on the chair while Engr. Tyrone opened a folder.
“I have here some reports regarding your work for the last two years. Sorry to tell you Jalandoni, the company is very much disappointed…”
“Disappointed? For what?”
“Lacking cement bags…missing galvanized irons…malfunctioning electrical systems in Project 176…a number of people are pointing at you being responsible for these things.”
“What?! You believe those morons? They’re just jealous, sir, I was doing my job well…I mean, goddamnit…those supplies…the hell-”
“Your language please, Engr. Jalandoni.”
“Look Tyrone, I am not responsible with those shit-”
“YOU’RE RUDE JALANDONI…I’LL REPORT YOU TO THE HEAD MANAGEMENT!”
Benedict Senior was quiet for a moment. He fixed himself, moved closer to his boss and whispered, “I don’t give a damn, NIGGAH, if you tell those above with your lies and your fat BLACK ASS!”
Engr. Jones, the black American president of the company who was listening secretly somewhere, entered the David Tyrone’s office and ejaculated, “YOU’RE FIRED MR. JALANDONI!”
The next month, the family Jalandoni was on their way back to the Philippines.
“What are your plans for now, darling,” Mrs. Jalandoni asked his husband on board of an Emirates aircraft.
“I’m tired of working. Maybe we can begin a business in Bacolod…and I’ll be a good father to Ben and Beni.”
They kissed.
Corny, 16-year-old Ben thought seeing his parents kissing. He was on the window seat, hugging his Optimus Prime. He only brought his Autobot Transformers collection. He sold his Decepticons to his friends in California who were also Transformers maniacs.
Seeing the clouds, he missed Starscream.
Benedict Jalandoni Sr. could’ve stayed in California and fulfill his dream of being the first Filipino millionaire there. But then he got his pride. Stupid Negroes! They’re just jealous a brown-skinned engineer’s far better than them. He wanted the company to apologize to him. He was just waiting for their call. I just stole five sacks of cement…that’s all! Some of my colleagues were doing worse…
They sold their house in Silay a long time ago. They bought a new house in Bacolod. The engineer was rich so the house was kind of a mansion. As what he said, Benedict Senior was tired of working. So as soon as they’re settled in the city, they began their business: B & B Motor Parts and Supplies.
Ben was enrolled by his mother at USLS Integrated School to finish his high school so he could proceed to college. His father was forcing him to take up medicine, as engineering he said was a pain in the ass. Benilde was enrolled at St. Scholastica’s Academy.
At first, it was hard for teenage Ben to adapt. He was a loser in junior high back their in California. In his new school, since he was English-speaking, his classmates seemed to rely on him. In the States, teachers are the students’ toys. In USLS-IS, teachers rhyme with terror.
Ben was fine after a month, knew the ropes already, knew some people. He happened, however, to make friends with some bad guys.
“We’re goin to Jason’s this weekend.”
“Cool. What’s the trip?” Ben asked.
“Pop session.”
That Saturday, Ben felt like he’s Starscream, a robot freely soaring in the skies.
“SHIT!” Engr. Jalandoni cursed as he smashed a glass of wine.
“What’s the matter dear? Oh…Teray, clean this mess here…”
“Honey, look at these papers…” Benedict Senior poured another wine. His veins were visible in his neck and forehead. “DAMNIT! Few customers so far…Masami Gears pulled out their stocks…no one of my friends are willing to invest…”
“Patience, Benny dear, we’re just beginning in the business.”
SMASH!
“Patience? It’s almost a year? I should’ve thought that there’s a lot of competition in this sort of business.”
“Teray, that mess again. Please. Oh Hon, why don’t we try other businesses? A grocery store perhaps…or a restaur-”
SMASH!
“HIJO DE PUTA! What am I? I’ll not settle with such business for faggots. I’m an engineer, for Christ’s sake…”
“I’m just suggesting, Hon. Actually, my friend Andrea Gamboa would like to invest if we would-”
“Enough! I must save this business once and for all. You know my pride.”
“But Benedict…you said it yourself…the business is-”
SMASH!
Ben had three girlfriends left in the US. But they were just his lust. He never felt so much in love with Monica, his girlfriend in college.
“You love Transformers too?” College freshman Ben asked his classmate in a Biology class which he began courting a week later.
“Uhoh…I love Bumblebee.” Monica smiles perfectly but she’s not that pretty compared to those Ben had screwed in bed. But that’s what Ben he in her. Pretty girls cheat on you.
“You’re a tomboy?” Ben chuckled.
“Of course not! I just hate Barbie when I was a kid. I’m a Papa’s girl…he’s got a collection of Transformers too. He influenced me.”
“Cool.” I envy you. I’m a Mama’s boy.
Christmas of 1995 was Ben’s worst nightmare. The noche buena was ready. His mother went to wake Benilde in her room. His father went to wake him up.
“Merry Chris – wha…what are you doing?”
He was caught red-handed. The foil was on his nose, sniffing the last smoke of amphetamine.
“DAD! WHY DIDN’T YOU KNOCK!”
“Is this…oh my God! SHABU?! Come here you devil!”
Engr. Jalandoni wrestled with his son. His rage made him mad as a toro. He was Hulk Hogan kicking and punching his poor opponent. “STUPID! THIS IS YOUR GIFT FOR ME?! YOU’RE A DISGRACE IN THE FAMILY!”
A minute had passed since Ben was caught sniffing drugs, he was already bloody and his body was burning with pain.
“Benedict! Ben!” Mrs. Jalandoni came horrified. “What happened…oh my God! Teray! Call an ambulance…”
They had their noche buena in room 504 of Riverside Hospital. Ben got three stitches in the forehead. He had an x-ray for possible fracture in his arm. He was asleep in his Bed. He was murmuring from time to time. “I’m Starscream…go Decepticons…I’m flyin…”
Engr. Jalandoni told the doctor that his son went home already in that condition.
“…Might have been with frat rumbles…you know…college boys…”
“He’s hallucinating, Engr. Jalandoni. We suggest for a drug test…” The doctor said.
“DRUG TEST?! What do you think of my son, Doc? Addict? No…I won’t allow that. He’s fine…he’s a good boy…not into shab – oh…drugs or anythin…”
Ben was forgiven. His family wouldn’t stand the embrassment if anyone knew he was a drug addict. But then, Engr. Jalandoni made sure his son wouldn’t do anything stupid again. Ben was grounded. He must be home from school by 9pm. He was forbidden to see his friends. His allowance reduced.
But it was no reason for an addict to quit the addiction.
“Hey Brian,” Ben called his classmate one day. “You love Transformers, right?”
“I do! Megatron…terrorize! Haha.”
“Okay. Are you interested buying some of my robot collection? They’re imported…I reduced the price. I just need money badly.”
He used the money for shabu. He was too careful not to be caught again with his pot sessions. He outwitted his father.
“You’re selling you’re robots? How come?” Monica asked his boyfriend for two years.
“I have a lot already. I need to dispatch some.”
“I thought your toys are valuable to you? In fact, I get jealous with them sometimes.”
“I think I’m just growing up. And don’t ya worry…I still got Bumblebee.” And my beloved Optimus Prime, the one Dad gave me when I was seven.
He was on his third year and just had their final exams. His brain would want to explode with Anatomy. He didn’t love taking up medicine, actually. He was just in his pre-med course but he already wanted to give up. Five years to go before he could add an M.D. in his last name.
Ben arrived in their house which was silent that evening. The only sound he could hear was Teray washing the dishes in the kitchen. His mother wasn’t around. Might be in her evening shopping again. His sister was in the sala, reading a book. When he entered, Benilde looked at him suspiciously.
He climbed the stairs to his room. The door was open. He was surprised to see his father sitting on his bed.
“Good evening, son.” Engr. Jalandoni smiled to Ben’s surprise.
“Good evening.” He placed his knapsack on his study table. He didn’t kiss his father, or do mano po. He was never used to it.
“How’s my doctor? Pefected the exams?”
Silence.
“I’m asking you, Benedict Junior.” The engineer was serious now.
“Fine! I’m fine! School’s fine!”
Ben’s father stood up and approached him while he was changing his uniform.
“You’re so hyperactive…are you into drugs again?”
Silence.
“Answer me…are you sniffing something again?”
“Dad…I stopped.”
PUNCH!
Ben fell on the floor. His sight was darkening. The last thing he saw was his Dad above him, holding a strip of aluminum foil.
Ben woke up in the hospital the next day. His mother was crying beside him. Benilde was reading a book in the couch. Teray was slicing apples. His father was standing beside his mother with his arms crossed on his chest.
“Anak? Ben? Oh…he’s awake…”
“Mom? Where am I?”
Mrs. Jalandoni tightened her grasp with her son’s arm. “Shhh…don’t speak…the stitches will hurt…”
“DON’T TREAT HER LIKE HE’S STILL A BABY, CECILIA!” Engr. Jalandoni spoke. “The reason why he’s that is because you spoil him very much.”
“Don’t blame me, Anton,” Ben’s mother turned to his father. “It’s your fault. You were never a good father to him.”
“Mom…”
“Shhh…”
“I worked so hard for their future…and I’m a bad father? Ha!”
“You never had time for him. He was longing for your love.”
“STOP! My fault or your fault, that is no matter of concern as of now. YOU Benedict Junior will be going back to the States.”
Mrs. Jalandoni sobbed harder.
“Dad…” Ben forced to talk. “I’m not going back there.”
“Of course you are. We’ll just tell everybody that you went back to California to finish your studies. But the truth is…”
Three weeks later, Ben was confined at St. Anthony’s Rehabilitation Center.
His anger to his father worsened. Ben would never forgive his father for keeping him in a rehab center. His freedom was taken. He could no longer soar to the skies with Starscream.
The withdrawal symptoms were killing him. He couldn’t sleep at night. He could see monsters. He could hear different voices. He felt losing his sanity.
Troubled by his sad fate, Ben, though, did help himself to be detoxified. Someday I’ll get out of here. Dad will regret this. I hate him!
His only hope was Monica. He had made Optimus Prime, the last robot left from his collection, his security blanket while in the rehab center.
Seven months later, Benedict Jalandoni Jr. was to be released from St. Anthony’s. He was overjoyed. Goodbye to the cage.
His mother and sister fetched him in the rehab center riding a taxi.
“Where’s the van?” Ben asked his mother.
“Oh…you’re Dad sold it last month. Business is getting worse. Poor sales…”
“I’m excited to see Dad.”
“You are?” Benilde asked surprisingly.
“Why not?” Ben replied.
“Your father’s not ready to see you yet…that’s why he didn’t go with us.”
“Well, I’m ready to see him.” I’ll kill him when I see him.
They were home at last. Ben was shocked to see that there was no longer grandeur. The paintings were gone. The piano was gone. Teray was gone, fired by his father according to his mother’s tales in the taxi.
“Where’s father?” Ben asked when they were settled in the sala.
“Maybe in her room,” Benilde replied.
“I’ll see him.”
“Don’t take it so long,” his mother said from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready…I cooked your favorite estofado…”
Ben climbed up the stairs excitedly. He had waited that moment. He got out his pocket knife which he sharpened secretly in the rehab center. He would stab his father before he could say a word. You deserve to go to hell.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
BANG!
He thought it was his third knock. No! It’s a gunshot!
Ben had an adrenaline rush. He heard his mother and sister screaming downstairs. He kicked the door to open.
He found his father lying bloddy on the floor with a gun on his mouth.
On the floor were scattered letters. Letters of bankruptcy. Letters from pulling out investors. Letters of poor sales. Letters of filed estafa case.
DAMNIT! You’re unfair! Why didn’t you wait for me to do it for you?
Ben spitted on his father’s body before his horrified mother and sister arrived in the tragic scene.
B & B Motor Parts and Supplies was closed. All the properties of the Jalandoni family were taken by the bank. The mansion was gone. Ben and his mother and sister moved in to a smaller house.
“Argh! I hate this life!’ Benilde voiced out in their new home. “What will my friends say? All my pocketbooks were gone.”
“Stop it, Beni…you have to adapt to this life now,” her mother said.
“It’s his entire fault! If only he didn’t give Dad such headache…”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Ben became angry all of the sudden.
“It’s your fault why we’re poor now! Dad could’ve solved his problems only if he wasn’t minding you as a prob-”
SLAP!
“What happened to Dad was his fault.”
“You wait til I finish my studies, you addict…” Benilde was crying. “I’ll take Mom away from you…away from this place…”
Monica. He hadn’t seen her for ages. Ben was desperate to hug her, kiss her, talk to her. He was on his lowest times. Monica was his hope. Maybe his girlfriend could help her.
He wanted to surprise her. He waited in front of their house. Monica might be graduating BS Biology now…
It was late in the evening. A car stopped in front of Monica’s house. In the dark, from a distance, Ben was heartbroken seeing Monica going out of the car with a man. They kissed under the moonlight.
Back home, Ben was very much disappointed. The first thing he saw in his room was his Optimus Prime. He grabbed it and smashed it on the floor.
The next day, he placed the broken pieces of Optimus Prime in a box and left it at the gate in front of Monica’s house.
Ben was back to his old ways. He could no longer afford for shabu. He tried marijuana.
Benilde didn’t finish her studies. She was able to contact her rich boyfriend back there in California who was dying to marry her. She didn’t love the guy but she had no choice. When the guy sent her dollars for her to go to USA, she grabbed the opportunity and took her mother with her.
They left Ben alone in poverty.
Ben applied for different jobs to earn a living. He had been a waiter, a salesboy, a factory worker, a vendor, a carwasher. His wage, though, was never enough. He missed amphetamine. He would do everything to afford buying it again.
“Do you know how to cut hair?” a fellow waiter asked Ben one day.
“Uhmm…not quite good but I can…”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, I did cut my fellows’ hairs back there in the rehabilitation center. A friend of mine there has taught me with scissors.”
“Good then. There’s a famous barber shop in Villamonte. The owner is kind, gives high salary if you do your job well. And rich customers give large tips. My uncle has just retired from his work there. Maybe you could replace him.”
“Day off tomorrow, right?”
“Uhoh.”
“What’s the name of the barber shop?”
“ALK.”
“I’ll go there.
The next day, Benedict went to see Mr. Gonzaga, owner of ALK Barber Shop.
“Before I hire you, I want you see you cut for a sample,” said Mr. Gonzaga.
“I’ll do that, sir.”
At that moment, a woman entered the shop with her 3-year-old son in her arms.
“Sir, I want my son’s hair cut…but he’s having tantrums. He fears the electric razors,” the woman said.
Ben grabbed the opportunity. “Oh really? Hey boy…wanna play with Manong Ben? C’mon…sit here. This electric razor you know is a robot…it’s a Transformer!”
Mr. Gonzaga was amazed. The child behaved all throughout the hair-cutting process. Ben did it with no hassle.
“You’re hired. If you want, you can start today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“From now on, you cut the kids’ hairs.”
f e r d i n a n d
It was in the terror of the World War II. A few hours after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the Japanese launched air raids in several cities and US military installations in the Philippines on December 8, and on December 10, the first Japanese troops landed in Northern Luzon. At the dawn of December 11, Ferdinad Genovia was expelled from the womb of his mother in a bamboo bed, in a nipa house, in a town terrified by the invasion of the yellow-skinned soldiers.
“Felipe, what’s the news so far?” Beatriz asked her husband while cuddling their firstborn child.
“MacArthur has fled to Bataan. More Japanese are coming,” Felipe replied in Tagalog with his Hiligaynon accent. He came from Negros Occidental.
“I’m worried of what’s happening here, Peling. It’s not good for our baby being in this place. We’ve got to transfer somewhere.”
“I’m thinking of it. I was checking if the invaders have controlled the transportation. When you’re fine, Bi-ang, we might travel to Negros.”
“Negros?”
“Yes, in my hometown, Calatrava. We have a farm there. Simple living but it’s better than here.”
“I’ll go anywhere just to stay away from these ruthless Hapones.”
The baby Ferdinand was silent in her mother’s arms, sucking her colustrum.
Sixty five years later, Ferdinand Genovia, obviously, was no longer a baby. He was a fat old man working as a barber in ALK Barber Shop in Villamonte, Bacolod City. The thing he was proud of was that, on that year, 2006, he was the last remaining barber in the shop out of the pioneer barbers hired by Condrado Gonzaga when ALK opened on June 29, 1988.
“Manong, what kind of cuts do you cut?”
Ferdinand could still remember when his employer interviewed him 18 years ago. Condrado, 33 years old that time, called him ‘manong’ since he was older than him. He was 47 years old.
“Any cuts, sir. I’m a skilled barber because I did cut hair when I was working abroad.”
“Exactly what I need,” Condrado replied. “Manong…uhm…Ferdinand right? The shop’s opening tomorrow so you can start working then. With regards to your wage, it will be 60-40. Is it fine with you?”
“Can you elaborate on it, sir?”
“Sixty percent of what we’ll get from the customers will go to the barbers, forty percent to the shop. The other barbers I hired have agreed on that.”
“Oh, no problem with that, sir. It’s a good deal.”
Thus began Ferdinand’s career as a barber in ALK, a job he loved so much. For him, cutting hair in the Philippines was better than working abroad. He loved to talk to his customers, sharing ideas, debating about the country’s crises. He had neither wife nor children. His friends in the shop were his family.
There were seven of them, pioneer barbers hired by Mr. Gonzaga: Renante, Juancho, Santiago, aka ‘Tiyago’, Dante, Alfonso, Vicente, and himself. Of the other six, Tiyago was his closest friend. The two of them were the last two survivors of the seven pioneers in the shop in 2006. Unfortunately, Tyago had a fatal accident which made Ferdinand the last remaining of the seven.
Being the oldest barber, Ferdinand was the living witness of how the barber shop survived for years. He would usually tell ALK’s history to some loyal customers or to his fellow barbers.
“…When the shop opened in 1988, the first seven customers we cut paid none. Mr. Gonzaga ordered such so as to attract more passengers. I was exhausted that day…we had about seventy…”
“…ALK nearly closed in 1990. That idiot Mr. Marasigan, he’s the owner of this building…he forced us to leave because this area would be transformed into some sort of a mall…”
“…Alfonso, one of the pioneer barbers here, was the only barber fired by Mr. Gonzaga. He left his electric razor unplugged overnight. Half of this shop was burned…”
“…When Karlo, Mr. Gonzaga’s unico hijo, was baptized in 1992, Tiyago and I were godfathers. Portia and Flor were godmothers. Portia was the first woman hired here in ALK as a barber, replacing Alfonso. Flor was the first cashier. Before, Mrs. Gonzaga was the one who collected the money…”
“…We had the taste of the first aircon here in 1995. We barbers were glad when that Kelvinator was installed. At least, this shop no longer smelled…”
When asked if what’s his secret for staying in the barber shop for years, Ferdinand would always reply that it’s his friendship with Condrado Gonzaga and his family.
Ferdinand had no regrets in not finishing a college degree. In his time, graduating high school was good enough. He grew up in Calatrava where his parents resided after moving in from Luzon. He helped his father in the farm while his mother sold their vegetables in the market.
After graduating high school, Ferdinand went to Bacolod to work in his uncle’s machine shop. He earned a living there for quite a time but quitted years later due to health hazards. He then entered into business: selling fish in Libertad Public Market. His business lasted three years.
At the time of the Martial Law, Ferdinand went back to their farm in Calatrava. His mother was dead already. He helped his father surviving in their lowest times. When his father died finally, he got the farm on his own. He continued plowing the field for some years.
In 1983, a friend of his from Bacolod, persuaded Ferdinand to work in Taiwan as a hotel bellboy. He was interested; he was tired of being a farmer somehow. He sold his land and used the money for going abroad.
“So, you learned to cut hair in Taiwan?”
“Yes,” Ferdinand replied when Voltaire, his closest fellow barber, asked him.
“How come?”
“I cut my fellow OFW’s hair as a sideline. Ya know…a haircut there in Taiwan costs much. Better to me that they would go to barber shops there. They would pay me cheaper fee but if you convert it to peso, it’s great money.”
“Wow! I might want to work in there,” Voltaire said amazed. Poor boy. He was once a brilliant lad and a good customer of Ferdinand. Life was cruel though, Voltaire became a barber also.
“It might be good for you at that age. As for me, Voltaire, I love my job here. Old men like me ought to live here. Ya know…it’s good bein abroad while you’re young. When you get old, you would want to live and die here in your homeland…”
There were only six barbers in ALK that year, when Ferdinand was the oldest among them. He was very close a friend to Voltaire, as he was once his loyal customer, and to the rest, he had been as good as a father. The truth was that, the other five barbers had angst to their real fathers.
Voltaire was mad at his father, a professor at UNO-R before he died, because the old man pressured him in academics along with his brothers.
Ben’s father had no time for him; killed himself before his angry son could do it for him.
Bong was a bastard. “I would kill my father if I see him, just like Ben,” he once said.
Jimmy had never met his father or his mother either. He grew up with his grandmother. The way Jimmy handled things, Ferdinand could say that the man longed for a father figure.
Cesar, on the other hand, wouldn’t tell anything about his father. He only spoke of himself, nothing more.
In ALK, the barbers call him Nong Ferds. It was difficult at first for Ferdinand to deal with those younger than him. He couldn’t relate, he couldn’t go with the flow, he couldn’t even laugh at their jokes. But as time passed by, he learned to understand them. The only thing he couldn’t tolerate was whenever they invite him to drink.
“Sorry boys…quitted liquors long time ago…threats to my liver…enjoy the night…”
When they talk, barber-to-barber, Ferdinand would always stress out the importance of their advocacy to their customers in ALK. “We give them good service, in return, we gain their loyalty,” he would explain. “In that loyalty we live…it’s something we must be proud of…in time you will realize that receiving tips from them is a sign of respect…”
Ferdinand knew all the loyal customers (suki) of his fellow barbers. As for him, he had a lot to enumerate. He didn’t count the number of times the customer would have a haircut with each of the barbers. It was just intellectual assumption.
Voltaire’s suki was a rich man named Mr. Torre. They only knew his last name so they call him that or sometimes, ‘Sir’ would do. Mr. Torre, as far as they knew, sold cars. He would go to ALK riding different cars in each visit. Sometimes, he would bring pizza for the barbers. He didn’t speak much. But he could give Voltaire a tip as much as a violet bill.
Bong’s suki was also a rich man. They called him Don Ricarte. All they knew was that, Ricarte Perez owned a hacienda somewhere in La Carlota. He would travel to Bacolod just to have his haircut in ALK and with Bong as his favorite barber. His difference with Mr. Torre was that, he loved to discuss things. He would always give advice to Bong on fatherhood, especially when he knew that the young barber was already a father.
Jimmy had a lot of sukis, just like Ferdinand. Ferdinand would admit, Jimmy was a competition. If a rich customer would enter the barber shop, either it would go to him or Jimmy or leave. Jimmy would get great tips from his customers, sometimes greater than that of Ferdinand’s.
With all of Jimmy’s customers, Ferdinand could only spot one whom he always monitored. His difference with Jimmy’s other customers was that, he never gave any tip. Ferdinand understood that the customer was just a student but even some of Jimmy’s student customers could afford to give the barber a tip. This student he knew by the name of Alfred. He was a student nurse, always carrying thick books and a bag of laboratory apparatuses.
Ben’s suki on the other hand was a mother. It wasn’t the mother, though, who had her hair cut but rather her four-year-old child named Kirk. Mrs. Dequiña was a hyperactive woman who could speak a thousand words per minute. She always complained why her son’s hair would grow so fast. “Omigod…I dunno what to do with my son. His hair grows so fast…look, we just had haircut last two weeks but now his hair’s so thick…Ben…make him bald please…damn…I spend so much for this child’s hair…blah…blah…blah…”
Cesar’s suki was a muscular man named Reed. Ferdinand didn’t know much of this man. Cesar would speak silently with his suki. Sometimes, Ferdinand could hear what they talking about. They spoke of bodybuilding, or burning fat, or healthy diet, and so on.
“Do you know why this building was named Mariposa?” Ferdinand asked his godson Karlo one day. As a young boy, Mr. Gonzaga’s son would visit the barber shop after school and talk with his godfather.
“No, Ninong. Why’s that?”
“This building was once named Marasigan Building. One day though, the tenants here were surprised when this building was infested by giant moths called ‘mariposas’. We didn’t know where those insects came from. Some of them were as large as papaya leaves. That was featured in radio stories that time-”
“What happened to the mariposas?”
“They weren’t eradicated. Mr. Marasigan thought that the presence of those humongous moths meant prosperity in the building. So for days the mariposas lingered here…they just disappeared one day and we didn’t know where they went.”
“Mysterious but amazing.”
“Yeah, son.” Ferdinand was comfortable calling Karlo ‘Son’. Actually, he treated him as his own. He loved Karlo so much. “So that’s why this building was renamed to Mariposa Building…after those moths…”
Ferdinand didn’t know why. He felt deep affection for Karlo. He had other grandchildren too but he couldn’t afford to hide from Karlo Gonzaga every Christmas. Condrado Gonzaga noticed it too.
“Seems like my boy likes you very much, Manong Ferdinand,” Condrado told him one day.
“Yes, sir. He goes here in the shop every afternoon. He’s intelligent. I love that godson of mine.”
“Why not have children of your own?”
Ferdinand chuckled.
“It’s not too late…after all…you’re settled with your life now. You’re not planning to marry?”
“Sir, I’m quite old. I might die a single man. I’m happy as of now…”
“Happy alone?”
“Sir, this is my family, ALK. I’m happy here.”
Ferdinand monitored his beloved godson’s growth. From being a naughty boy, Karlo was growing as a decent fine-looking lad. When he was young, Karlo was fond of asking childish things to his godfather, just like about the mysterious mariposas.
“…When shall the mariposas return?”
“…What happened why Tito Tyago has a scar on his arm?”
“…Where’s Tito Renante? Why is he not in the shop anymore?”
Ferdinand would answer everything to satisfy the child’s curiosity. Some were truths, some were fabrications. Well, no one could really satisfy a child’s cusiorsity.
There’s only one question asked by Karlo which Ferdinand failed to answer. He tried to fabricate but he was just being stupid.
“Why is this shop named ALK? What does ALK mean?”
“Uhm…ah, well son, it’s uhm…well you know…I dunno…it’s plain ALK. Your father can explain it…”
When Karlo entered high school, the childish questions were gone.
“…I feel uncomfortable seeing her. Is this normal?”
“…Hairs are coming out of my arm pits. Is it normal?”
“…Ninong, this is just our secret. I was stroking my penis last night and a transparent fluid came out. I’m sure it wasn’t urine. I did feel something nice. Am I sick or was that normal?”
It gave Ferdinand some headaches. Why is this boy asking me? He has a father, for Christ’s sake.
When Karlo was more mature, he began asking his godfather about courting ladies.
“…Her name is Lindy…she’s damn beautiful. How could I ever tell her that I love her?”
“You send her a letter about your feelings,” Ferdinand advised.
“Ngek! That’s corny, Ninong.”
“Then send her a text message. You have your cellphones nowadays, right? Or if I were you, I’ll just confront her so that she won’t doubt about your feelings…”
“What if I get basted?”
“At least you tried.”
The barber shop was about to close one evening. The other barbers were gone, except Ferdinand. He was fixing his things in hos cutting area. Chit, the cashier slash janitress went home early to attend a neighbor’s birthday party,
“Come here you shameless lad!”
Ferdinand was surprised when the door burst open. Mr. Gonzaga was forcively dragging his 15-year-old son into the shop.
“Dad…please…let me go…it hurts…”
“YOU NEVER LEARN!”
Ferdinand stopped what he was doing and tried to meddle.
“Sir, what happened? Karlo-”
“Oh, Nong Ferdinand…good that you’re still here. THAT GODSON OF YOURS HAS JUST DISAPPOINTED ME!”
“Dad, I swear...I didn’t-”
“YOU SHUT UP KARLO GONZAGA!”
“Why…wha…what happened?” Ferdinand knew it was wrong to interfere but then, his godson was the subject.
“That stupid boy…he’s been touching girls at that age? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!” Mr. Gonzaga’s rage was great. He went closer to his son and was about to hit him with fist.
“STOP! Sir…I think you can talk for this matter…I mean…”
“Ferdinand…I’m full with this damn boy! I don’t what did I lack…I’ve given him everything…”
Poor Karlo was sobbing on a divan. He was terrified by his father’s anger.
“Sir…uhm…I think there’s no need of hitting him…there are other-”
“STOP.”
Ferdinand gulped.
“Nong Ferdinand? Are you questioning the way I discipline my son?”
“No Sir…it’s just…”
“Please leave…this is out of your concern in the first place. You’re just a godfather. I’m talking to Karlo as a father to his son…”
Without a word, Ferdinand grabbed his bag and left the shop as soon as possible.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. Ferdinand was worried about Karlo, his godson whom he treated as his real son. He never knew what actually happened. But he was mad at Mr. Gonzaga trying to hit his son.
Damn him! Why wouldn’t he listen to Karlo? It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t harm him like that…
It was early afternoon the next day. Ferdinand was surprised when Karlo entered the barber shop and sat on the divan beside his cutting area.
“Karlo? Son, why are you here? Don’t you have a class?”
Karlo remained silent.
“Son? You have a problem?”
“Ninong, can I talk to you? Please…”
“Why…sure. I’ll just finish this cut, okay?”
Karlo waited around 10 minutes. His godfather’s customer had just a simple barber’s cut.
“Chit, I’m taking a break,” Ferdinand signaled the receptionist in her table who was cutting her fingernails.
“No prob Nong Ferds.”
Ferdinand placed his arm on Karlo’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go, son.”
They had coffee at a coffee shop a few blocks away from ALK. Ferdinand felt sleepy, he gulped his hot coffee as soon as he smelled it in front of him. Karlo on the other looked blank. He was just staring at his coffee, stirring it with a teaspoon for eternity.
“Stop it, son…the cup will melt…your coffee will be wasted...”
Karlo grinned. He loved his godfather’s jokes.
“That’s it son, smile…life is beautiful!” Ferdinand sipped from his cup then continued. “What do you want to talk about? Does it have something to do with last night?”
“Yes.”
“C’mon then…spill the beans.”
“My father’s a jerk, Ninong. How could he just believe that lie about me. He wouldn’t listen to me.” Karlo clenched his fist.
“Relax…take a deep breath...now, I don’t know what exactly happened. Would you mind telling me?”
“That bitch Andrea in school! She told the guidance counselor I touched her breast in the library. She’s a liar!”
“Wait a minute…this Andrea…you mean…?”
“Yes, that ugly Andrea with her face full of craters! How could she have such guts…argh!”
“You really did it?”
“OF COURSE I DIDN’T! NO BOY WOULD DO SO! And to think…she got no breast at all…ambisyosa…”
Silent chuckles.
“Okay son, I get it now. So this Andrea reported you to the guidance counselor saying you molested her? Which is actually not true and-”
“And then they called my father…and…and father believes that bitch’s tale and father wanted me punished!”
“Wait a minute…you are his son…how could he…”
“THAT’S THE QUESTION! I HATE HIM!”
At that moment, Karlo unbuttoned his polo uniform and exposed his back. Ferdinand was stunned to see bruises and black marks undoubtedly made by a belt’s buckle.
“Susmaryusep! Mr. Gonzaga did it?” Ferdinand exclaimed as he examined the bruises.
“Yes, Ninong. And worse, I’m grounded this weekend.”
Karlo forced himself not to cry in from of his Ninong.
Silence.
“Well son, uhm…I’m not the right person to tell your father that what he did was wrong. You heard him last night. I’m just your godfather…nothing more…”
“I hate him Ninong…I wish he’s not my father…I wish my father is you…”
Ferdinand was flattered. He didn’t know that Karlo valued him much as well.
“Well son, you have no choice…he’s your father and forever he will be. Maybe he loves you so much…that’s why he did this…his anger will soon fade out…and yours as well…”
“I don’t think so. He’s so selfish. He thinks I’m a robot. He’s controlling my life. He wanted me to study study study study…do this…do that…don’t court girls yet…”
“So he warned you not to have a girlfriend yet?”
“He always does. But the hell…I’m a teenager! It can’t be avoided…flirting with girls. In fact, some of my classmates…their fathers were persuading them to have girlfriends or to have sex as soon as possible!”
Silent chuckles.
“You’re father wants you to have a good future.”
“I don’t care anymore. I will look on girls whether he thinks I’m ready or not…and by the way…Ninong, I already told Lindy that I love her so much…”
They ordered more coffee. The longer they talked, Karlo was getting better. The sun was lowering in the horizon; Ferdinand was planning not to go back in the shop anymore. He and Karlo talked about many things. They talked about Taiwan, ALK’s history, why Bong became a father at a young age, why Voltaire became a barber, why Ben always had swollen eye bags, why Jimmy was so gay, why Cesar was so secretive, why Chit was such a gossiper.
Finally, they arrived at one interesting topic: women.
“So Ninong, I already shared about my lovelife…would you mind telling me yours?”
Ferdinand was speechless for a moment. He sipped from his cup before he began to share. “Okay, I know that I will be lonely for the rest of my life, son, but…but I did fell in love…before…”
There were six women in Ferdinand’s life.
The first one was Neneng. She was Ferdinand’s childhood friend in Calatrava. Neneng’s parents were farmers too. As children, they loved to play on hills of waste stalks of newly-threshed palay. They rode carabaos together, swam in the river, fed some pigs and poultry, and milked cows. They grew up together until they, eventually, became lovers.
Neneng was raped by one of the town’s known drunkards. Driven by despair and anger with such cruel fate, Neneng was lost in sanity. A week after she was raped, she was out in the field dancing restlessly, cursing the carabaos for raping her.
Love is better the second time around. It proved true to Ferdinand with his second lover, Nora. He met her in Bacolod already, when he was working as welder in his uncle’s machine shop. Nora was an asalera. Her father owned a barbecue stand in front of the machine shop where Ferdinand worked.
Ferdinand would have free inasal from Nora every afternoon for snacks. Nora adored him so much. He loved her so much as well. He would only eat the inasal if Nora roasted it for him. However, Nora’s parents stood between them when they knew about their relationship.
“We are poor as a rat and you’ll settle with that man poorer than the rat?” Nora’s father insulted Ferdinand.
“I love your daughter so much! I’m willing to marry her-”
“YOU ONLY LOVE HER SO YOU CAN HAVE A FREE INASAL!”
Nora was banned to see Ferdinand. His father no longer allowed her to roast inasal in their barbecue stand. It broke Ferdinand’s heart. A month later, he discovered that Nora was already in Japan, taken by her sister who was a Japayuki.
Love is no better the second time around. Love is BITTER the second time around.
Soon, Ferdinand left his uncle’s machine shop. His eyes were hit accidentally by the sparks of the welding rod. He was fine but left the shop as soon as possible before his deleterious job would blind him completely.
He met his third girlfriend, Becky. He was having a business that time, selling fish in Libertad. Becky was a fellow fish vendor. They were stallmates one day, the rest was history.
Ferdinand would want to stop loving women that time. The memory of Nora hurt him. But then, Becky healed his love wounds. Becky wasn’t pretty but she was kind, thoughtful, and caring. She would wipe Ferdinand’s sweat while they sold bangus, bukao-bukao, lagao, and binoro. She would help bark for customers so that Ferdinand’s goods would all be sold.
There was a raid one afternoon in Libertad Public Market. The authorities inspected the vendors’ weighing scales whether they put secret weights to fool customers or not. Ferdinand wasn’t guilty. Becky, however, was caught.
The fourth woman in the life of Ferdinand Genovia was older than him. Ferdinand, by then, was back in Calatrava courtesy of the Marcos’ regime. He was back in farming, and he met Agnes Mayuga, a widow with three children.
Their relationship was a secret. It was taboo. Agnes owned a store in town where Ferdinand brought his rice from the farm to be sold. The made love everytime they were with each other. Agnes was the most aggressive woman Ferdinand had screwed in bed.
“What if I get pregnant? Will you marry me?” Agnes asked Ferdinand one night.
Ferdinand found himself not able to answer the question. My God…what will the people say?
“Ferdie? I’m asking you dear…”
“I…uhm…yeah sure…”
Ferdinand was cornered. Actually, he had little love Agnes. Before they did things on the bed, he was just using the poor widow so that his farm products would be sold.
Agnes got pregnant. She told her lover when she was carrying the fetus three months already.
Damn! Point of no return. “I will marry you, Agnes…and to hell what other people will say.”
Ferdinand readied himself to become a father. They planned to announce that they were going to be married when Agnes’ stomach would be huge enough to be visible to people.
In her fifth month of pregnancy, Agnes could no longer keep in secret her bulging abdomen. Agnes called for his parents and sisters in Iloilo to come by for a very important announcement.
On the eve of their announcement, a tragedy happened. Agnes accidentally fell from the stairs in their house. She had severe hemorrhage. The baby died, so as the mother.
Agnes family was horrified when they arrived in Calatrava the next day. It wasn’t why Agnes was dead. It was why she was pregnant. In curiosity, they asked the children if their mother was seeing someone after their father died. Agnes’ children answered none. They were traumatized by their sudden orphaned lives.
Ferdinand was about to enter Agnes’ house when he noticed the pandemonium inside. He heard from the neighbors that the widow died of accidental abortion. He, too, was horrified. He couldn’t believe it. He was about to have a child! He fled from the town proper and stayed in their farm for good.
He felt terribly guilty. But then…he was free.
One reason why Ferdinand decided to work in Taiwan was that, he wanted to be born again. He had experienced enough cruelty of fate. He had been none other than, Cupid’s dummy.
He worked in Taiwan Moon Hotel as a bellboy. He loved it there. Seventy percent of the newly-opened hotel’s employees were Filipinos. So Ferdinand wasn’t homesick. It felt like he was just in the Philippines.
It is said that God listens when you pray to flee from hatred. But God is deaf when you want to flee from love. Even in Taiwan, when Ferdinand had no plans of falling in love again, he was still menaced by Cupid.
This time, the woman was a decade younger than her. Eliza Javier came from Cebu and Ferdinand fell in love with her wittyness. Eliza was a receptionist in the hotel. She and Ferdinand flirted when there was free time.
“Nand, I love you so much,” the naked Eliza said hugging her lover beside her. She was the only person who had called Ferdinand by the nick ‘Nand’. It was their dayoff. They dated and finally made love.
“I love you too, Eliza,” Ferdinand kissed his fifth girlfriend on the forehead.
“Do you know that you’re my first?”
Ferdinand blushed. So that’s why she bled while we did it.
“Do you want me to be your second also?”
Eliza grinned and replied, “I love that.”
And they made love once again.
It was December, Ferdinand’s second year abroad. Eliza told him that she would be going home in Cebu to attend her brother’s wedding. It saddened Ferdinand to be separated for a while from his girlfriend. After all, it’s Christmas.
“Don’t worry Nand, I’ll come back after a month. I promise. I will call you so you won’t miss me much.”
So Eliza was gone. Ferdinand spent the worst Christmas in his life. He longed for her, wanting her in her arms, on bed, kissing her lips. What hurt him more was that, Eliza seldom called, against what she promised.
The new year came. Eliza hadn’t returned. Then came February, and March, and April…no Eliza came back in Taiwan. It was driving Ferdinand crazy. Eliza was no longer calling him. What happened? I thought she loves me? Oh God…I’m such a fool…
One day, Ferdinand learned the truth from a fellow bellboy who came from Cebu. Eliza didn’t come home for her brother’s wedding. She came home for HER OWN WEDDING.
And Ferdinand realized that he wasn’t born again in Taiwan. He died again.
When he came back in the Philippines years later, he closed his heart. He swore to himself that he would no longer be Cupid’s dummy. He was getting old. Better experienced at least than none at all.
There were six women in Ferdinand’s life. The sixth however was paradoxical. Ferdinand wasn’t sure whether he felt something for the woman or none at all.
He was drunk when they made love.
They were both desperate.
It was only a one night stand.
It was in the terror of the World War II. A few hours after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the Japanese launched air raids in several cities and US military installations in the Philippines on December 8, and on December 10, the first Japanese troops landed in Northern Luzon. At the dawn of December 11, Ferdinad Genovia was expelled from the womb of his mother in a bamboo bed, in a nipa house, in a town terrified by the invasion of the yellow-skinned soldiers.
“Felipe, what’s the news so far?” Beatriz asked her husband while cuddling their firstborn child.
“MacArthur has fled to Bataan. More Japanese are coming,” Felipe replied in Tagalog with his Hiligaynon accent. He came from Negros Occidental.
“I’m worried of what’s happening here, Peling. It’s not good for our baby being in this place. We’ve got to transfer somewhere.”
“I’m thinking of it. I was checking if the invaders have controlled the transportation. When you’re fine, Bi-ang, we might travel to Negros.”
“Negros?”
“Yes, in my hometown, Calatrava. We have a farm there. Simple living but it’s better than here.”
“I’ll go anywhere just to stay away from these ruthless Hapones.”
The baby Ferdinand was silent in her mother’s arms, sucking her colustrum.
Sixty five years later, Ferdinand Genovia, obviously, was no longer a baby. He was a fat old man working as a barber in ALK Barber Shop in Villamonte, Bacolod City. The thing he was proud of was that, on that year, 2006, he was the last remaining barber in the shop out of the pioneer barbers hired by Condrado Gonzaga when ALK opened on June 29, 1988.
“Manong, what kind of cuts do you cut?”
Ferdinand could still remember when his employer interviewed him 18 years ago. Condrado, 33 years old that time, called him ‘manong’ since he was older than him. He was 47 years old.
“Any cuts, sir. I’m a skilled barber because I did cut hair when I was working abroad.”
“Exactly what I need,” Condrado replied. “Manong…uhm…Ferdinand right? The shop’s opening tomorrow so you can start working then. With regards to your wage, it will be 60-40. Is it fine with you?”
“Can you elaborate on it, sir?”
“Sixty percent of what we’ll get from the customers will go to the barbers, forty percent to the shop. The other barbers I hired have agreed on that.”
“Oh, no problem with that, sir. It’s a good deal.”
Thus began Ferdinand’s career as a barber in ALK, a job he loved so much. For him, cutting hair in the Philippines was better than working abroad. He loved to talk to his customers, sharing ideas, debating about the country’s crises. He had neither wife nor children. His friends in the shop were his family.
There were seven of them, pioneer barbers hired by Mr. Gonzaga: Renante, Juancho, Santiago, aka ‘Tiyago’, Dante, Alfonso, Vicente, and himself. Of the other six, Tiyago was his closest friend. The two of them were the last two survivors of the seven pioneers in the shop in 2006. Unfortunately, Tyago had a fatal accident which made Ferdinand the last remaining of the seven.
Being the oldest barber, Ferdinand was the living witness of how the barber shop survived for years. He would usually tell ALK’s history to some loyal customers or to his fellow barbers.
“…When the shop opened in 1988, the first seven customers we cut paid none. Mr. Gonzaga ordered such so as to attract more passengers. I was exhausted that day…we had about seventy…”
“…ALK nearly closed in 1990. That idiot Mr. Marasigan, he’s the owner of this building…he forced us to leave because this area would be transformed into some sort of a mall…”
“…Alfonso, one of the pioneer barbers here, was the only barber fired by Mr. Gonzaga. He left his electric razor unplugged overnight. Half of this shop was burned…”
“…When Karlo, Mr. Gonzaga’s unico hijo, was baptized in 1992, Tiyago and I were godfathers. Portia and Flor were godmothers. Portia was the first woman hired here in ALK as a barber, replacing Alfonso. Flor was the first cashier. Before, Mrs. Gonzaga was the one who collected the money…”
“…We had the taste of the first aircon here in 1995. We barbers were glad when that Kelvinator was installed. At least, this shop no longer smelled…”
When asked if what’s his secret for staying in the barber shop for years, Ferdinand would always reply that it’s his friendship with Condrado Gonzaga and his family.
Ferdinand had no regrets in not finishing a college degree. In his time, graduating high school was good enough. He grew up in Calatrava where his parents resided after moving in from Luzon. He helped his father in the farm while his mother sold their vegetables in the market.
After graduating high school, Ferdinand went to Bacolod to work in his uncle’s machine shop. He earned a living there for quite a time but quitted years later due to health hazards. He then entered into business: selling fish in Libertad Public Market. His business lasted three years.
At the time of the Martial Law, Ferdinand went back to their farm in Calatrava. His mother was dead already. He helped his father surviving in their lowest times. When his father died finally, he got the farm on his own. He continued plowing the field for some years.
In 1983, a friend of his from Bacolod, persuaded Ferdinand to work in Taiwan as a hotel bellboy. He was interested; he was tired of being a farmer somehow. He sold his land and used the money for going abroad.
“So, you learned to cut hair in Taiwan?”
“Yes,” Ferdinand replied when Voltaire, his closest fellow barber, asked him.
“How come?”
“I cut my fellow OFW’s hair as a sideline. Ya know…a haircut there in Taiwan costs much. Better to me that they would go to barber shops there. They would pay me cheaper fee but if you convert it to peso, it’s great money.”
“Wow! I might want to work in there,” Voltaire said amazed. Poor boy. He was once a brilliant lad and a good customer of Ferdinand. Life was cruel though, Voltaire became a barber also.
“It might be good for you at that age. As for me, Voltaire, I love my job here. Old men like me ought to live here. Ya know…it’s good bein abroad while you’re young. When you get old, you would want to live and die here in your homeland…”
There were only six barbers in ALK that year, when Ferdinand was the oldest among them. He was very close a friend to Voltaire, as he was once his loyal customer, and to the rest, he had been as good as a father. The truth was that, the other five barbers had angst to their real fathers.
Voltaire was mad at his father, a professor at UNO-R before he died, because the old man pressured him in academics along with his brothers.
Ben’s father had no time for him; killed himself before his angry son could do it for him.
Bong was a bastard. “I would kill my father if I see him, just like Ben,” he once said.
Jimmy had never met his father or his mother either. He grew up with his grandmother. The way Jimmy handled things, Ferdinand could say that the man longed for a father figure.
Cesar, on the other hand, wouldn’t tell anything about his father. He only spoke of himself, nothing more.
In ALK, the barbers call him Nong Ferds. It was difficult at first for Ferdinand to deal with those younger than him. He couldn’t relate, he couldn’t go with the flow, he couldn’t even laugh at their jokes. But as time passed by, he learned to understand them. The only thing he couldn’t tolerate was whenever they invite him to drink.
“Sorry boys…quitted liquors long time ago…threats to my liver…enjoy the night…”
When they talk, barber-to-barber, Ferdinand would always stress out the importance of their advocacy to their customers in ALK. “We give them good service, in return, we gain their loyalty,” he would explain. “In that loyalty we live…it’s something we must be proud of…in time you will realize that receiving tips from them is a sign of respect…”
Ferdinand knew all the loyal customers (suki) of his fellow barbers. As for him, he had a lot to enumerate. He didn’t count the number of times the customer would have a haircut with each of the barbers. It was just intellectual assumption.
Voltaire’s suki was a rich man named Mr. Torre. They only knew his last name so they call him that or sometimes, ‘Sir’ would do. Mr. Torre, as far as they knew, sold cars. He would go to ALK riding different cars in each visit. Sometimes, he would bring pizza for the barbers. He didn’t speak much. But he could give Voltaire a tip as much as a violet bill.
Bong’s suki was also a rich man. They called him Don Ricarte. All they knew was that, Ricarte Perez owned a hacienda somewhere in La Carlota. He would travel to Bacolod just to have his haircut in ALK and with Bong as his favorite barber. His difference with Mr. Torre was that, he loved to discuss things. He would always give advice to Bong on fatherhood, especially when he knew that the young barber was already a father.
Jimmy had a lot of sukis, just like Ferdinand. Ferdinand would admit, Jimmy was a competition. If a rich customer would enter the barber shop, either it would go to him or Jimmy or leave. Jimmy would get great tips from his customers, sometimes greater than that of Ferdinand’s.
With all of Jimmy’s customers, Ferdinand could only spot one whom he always monitored. His difference with Jimmy’s other customers was that, he never gave any tip. Ferdinand understood that the customer was just a student but even some of Jimmy’s student customers could afford to give the barber a tip. This student he knew by the name of Alfred. He was a student nurse, always carrying thick books and a bag of laboratory apparatuses.
Ben’s suki on the other hand was a mother. It wasn’t the mother, though, who had her hair cut but rather her four-year-old child named Kirk. Mrs. Dequiña was a hyperactive woman who could speak a thousand words per minute. She always complained why her son’s hair would grow so fast. “Omigod…I dunno what to do with my son. His hair grows so fast…look, we just had haircut last two weeks but now his hair’s so thick…Ben…make him bald please…damn…I spend so much for this child’s hair…blah…blah…blah…”
Cesar’s suki was a muscular man named Reed. Ferdinand didn’t know much of this man. Cesar would speak silently with his suki. Sometimes, Ferdinand could hear what they talking about. They spoke of bodybuilding, or burning fat, or healthy diet, and so on.
“Do you know why this building was named Mariposa?” Ferdinand asked his godson Karlo one day. As a young boy, Mr. Gonzaga’s son would visit the barber shop after school and talk with his godfather.
“No, Ninong. Why’s that?”
“This building was once named Marasigan Building. One day though, the tenants here were surprised when this building was infested by giant moths called ‘mariposas’. We didn’t know where those insects came from. Some of them were as large as papaya leaves. That was featured in radio stories that time-”
“What happened to the mariposas?”
“They weren’t eradicated. Mr. Marasigan thought that the presence of those humongous moths meant prosperity in the building. So for days the mariposas lingered here…they just disappeared one day and we didn’t know where they went.”
“Mysterious but amazing.”
“Yeah, son.” Ferdinand was comfortable calling Karlo ‘Son’. Actually, he treated him as his own. He loved Karlo so much. “So that’s why this building was renamed to Mariposa Building…after those moths…”
Ferdinand didn’t know why. He felt deep affection for Karlo. He had other grandchildren too but he couldn’t afford to hide from Karlo Gonzaga every Christmas. Condrado Gonzaga noticed it too.
“Seems like my boy likes you very much, Manong Ferdinand,” Condrado told him one day.
“Yes, sir. He goes here in the shop every afternoon. He’s intelligent. I love that godson of mine.”
“Why not have children of your own?”
Ferdinand chuckled.
“It’s not too late…after all…you’re settled with your life now. You’re not planning to marry?”
“Sir, I’m quite old. I might die a single man. I’m happy as of now…”
“Happy alone?”
“Sir, this is my family, ALK. I’m happy here.”
Ferdinand monitored his beloved godson’s growth. From being a naughty boy, Karlo was growing as a decent fine-looking lad. When he was young, Karlo was fond of asking childish things to his godfather, just like about the mysterious mariposas.
“…When shall the mariposas return?”
“…What happened why Tito Tyago has a scar on his arm?”
“…Where’s Tito Renante? Why is he not in the shop anymore?”
Ferdinand would answer everything to satisfy the child’s curiosity. Some were truths, some were fabrications. Well, no one could really satisfy a child’s cusiorsity.
There’s only one question asked by Karlo which Ferdinand failed to answer. He tried to fabricate but he was just being stupid.
“Why is this shop named ALK? What does ALK mean?”
“Uhm…ah, well son, it’s uhm…well you know…I dunno…it’s plain ALK. Your father can explain it…”
When Karlo entered high school, the childish questions were gone.
“…I feel uncomfortable seeing her. Is this normal?”
“…Hairs are coming out of my arm pits. Is it normal?”
“…Ninong, this is just our secret. I was stroking my penis last night and a transparent fluid came out. I’m sure it wasn’t urine. I did feel something nice. Am I sick or was that normal?”
It gave Ferdinand some headaches. Why is this boy asking me? He has a father, for Christ’s sake.
When Karlo was more mature, he began asking his godfather about courting ladies.
“…Her name is Lindy…she’s damn beautiful. How could I ever tell her that I love her?”
“You send her a letter about your feelings,” Ferdinand advised.
“Ngek! That’s corny, Ninong.”
“Then send her a text message. You have your cellphones nowadays, right? Or if I were you, I’ll just confront her so that she won’t doubt about your feelings…”
“What if I get basted?”
“At least you tried.”
The barber shop was about to close one evening. The other barbers were gone, except Ferdinand. He was fixing his things in hos cutting area. Chit, the cashier slash janitress went home early to attend a neighbor’s birthday party,
“Come here you shameless lad!”
Ferdinand was surprised when the door burst open. Mr. Gonzaga was forcively dragging his 15-year-old son into the shop.
“Dad…please…let me go…it hurts…”
“YOU NEVER LEARN!”
Ferdinand stopped what he was doing and tried to meddle.
“Sir, what happened? Karlo-”
“Oh, Nong Ferdinand…good that you’re still here. THAT GODSON OF YOURS HAS JUST DISAPPOINTED ME!”
“Dad, I swear...I didn’t-”
“YOU SHUT UP KARLO GONZAGA!”
“Why…wha…what happened?” Ferdinand knew it was wrong to interfere but then, his godson was the subject.
“That stupid boy…he’s been touching girls at that age? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!” Mr. Gonzaga’s rage was great. He went closer to his son and was about to hit him with fist.
“STOP! Sir…I think you can talk for this matter…I mean…”
“Ferdinand…I’m full with this damn boy! I don’t what did I lack…I’ve given him everything…”
Poor Karlo was sobbing on a divan. He was terrified by his father’s anger.
“Sir…uhm…I think there’s no need of hitting him…there are other-”
“STOP.”
Ferdinand gulped.
“Nong Ferdinand? Are you questioning the way I discipline my son?”
“No Sir…it’s just…”
“Please leave…this is out of your concern in the first place. You’re just a godfather. I’m talking to Karlo as a father to his son…”
Without a word, Ferdinand grabbed his bag and left the shop as soon as possible.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. Ferdinand was worried about Karlo, his godson whom he treated as his real son. He never knew what actually happened. But he was mad at Mr. Gonzaga trying to hit his son.
Damn him! Why wouldn’t he listen to Karlo? It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t harm him like that…
It was early afternoon the next day. Ferdinand was surprised when Karlo entered the barber shop and sat on the divan beside his cutting area.
“Karlo? Son, why are you here? Don’t you have a class?”
Karlo remained silent.
“Son? You have a problem?”
“Ninong, can I talk to you? Please…”
“Why…sure. I’ll just finish this cut, okay?”
Karlo waited around 10 minutes. His godfather’s customer had just a simple barber’s cut.
“Chit, I’m taking a break,” Ferdinand signaled the receptionist in her table who was cutting her fingernails.
“No prob Nong Ferds.”
Ferdinand placed his arm on Karlo’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go, son.”
They had coffee at a coffee shop a few blocks away from ALK. Ferdinand felt sleepy, he gulped his hot coffee as soon as he smelled it in front of him. Karlo on the other looked blank. He was just staring at his coffee, stirring it with a teaspoon for eternity.
“Stop it, son…the cup will melt…your coffee will be wasted...”
Karlo grinned. He loved his godfather’s jokes.
“That’s it son, smile…life is beautiful!” Ferdinand sipped from his cup then continued. “What do you want to talk about? Does it have something to do with last night?”
“Yes.”
“C’mon then…spill the beans.”
“My father’s a jerk, Ninong. How could he just believe that lie about me. He wouldn’t listen to me.” Karlo clenched his fist.
“Relax…take a deep breath...now, I don’t know what exactly happened. Would you mind telling me?”
“That bitch Andrea in school! She told the guidance counselor I touched her breast in the library. She’s a liar!”
“Wait a minute…this Andrea…you mean…?”
“Yes, that ugly Andrea with her face full of craters! How could she have such guts…argh!”
“You really did it?”
“OF COURSE I DIDN’T! NO BOY WOULD DO SO! And to think…she got no breast at all…ambisyosa…”
Silent chuckles.
“Okay son, I get it now. So this Andrea reported you to the guidance counselor saying you molested her? Which is actually not true and-”
“And then they called my father…and…and father believes that bitch’s tale and father wanted me punished!”
“Wait a minute…you are his son…how could he…”
“THAT’S THE QUESTION! I HATE HIM!”
At that moment, Karlo unbuttoned his polo uniform and exposed his back. Ferdinand was stunned to see bruises and black marks undoubtedly made by a belt’s buckle.
“Susmaryusep! Mr. Gonzaga did it?” Ferdinand exclaimed as he examined the bruises.
“Yes, Ninong. And worse, I’m grounded this weekend.”
Karlo forced himself not to cry in from of his Ninong.
Silence.
“Well son, uhm…I’m not the right person to tell your father that what he did was wrong. You heard him last night. I’m just your godfather…nothing more…”
“I hate him Ninong…I wish he’s not my father…I wish my father is you…”
Ferdinand was flattered. He didn’t know that Karlo valued him much as well.
“Well son, you have no choice…he’s your father and forever he will be. Maybe he loves you so much…that’s why he did this…his anger will soon fade out…and yours as well…”
“I don’t think so. He’s so selfish. He thinks I’m a robot. He’s controlling my life. He wanted me to study study study study…do this…do that…don’t court girls yet…”
“So he warned you not to have a girlfriend yet?”
“He always does. But the hell…I’m a teenager! It can’t be avoided…flirting with girls. In fact, some of my classmates…their fathers were persuading them to have girlfriends or to have sex as soon as possible!”
Silent chuckles.
“You’re father wants you to have a good future.”
“I don’t care anymore. I will look on girls whether he thinks I’m ready or not…and by the way…Ninong, I already told Lindy that I love her so much…”
They ordered more coffee. The longer they talked, Karlo was getting better. The sun was lowering in the horizon; Ferdinand was planning not to go back in the shop anymore. He and Karlo talked about many things. They talked about Taiwan, ALK’s history, why Bong became a father at a young age, why Voltaire became a barber, why Ben always had swollen eye bags, why Jimmy was so gay, why Cesar was so secretive, why Chit was such a gossiper.
Finally, they arrived at one interesting topic: women.
“So Ninong, I already shared about my lovelife…would you mind telling me yours?”
Ferdinand was speechless for a moment. He sipped from his cup before he began to share. “Okay, I know that I will be lonely for the rest of my life, son, but…but I did fell in love…before…”
There were six women in Ferdinand’s life.
The first one was Neneng. She was Ferdinand’s childhood friend in Calatrava. Neneng’s parents were farmers too. As children, they loved to play on hills of waste stalks of newly-threshed palay. They rode carabaos together, swam in the river, fed some pigs and poultry, and milked cows. They grew up together until they, eventually, became lovers.
Neneng was raped by one of the town’s known drunkards. Driven by despair and anger with such cruel fate, Neneng was lost in sanity. A week after she was raped, she was out in the field dancing restlessly, cursing the carabaos for raping her.
Love is better the second time around. It proved true to Ferdinand with his second lover, Nora. He met her in Bacolod already, when he was working as welder in his uncle’s machine shop. Nora was an asalera. Her father owned a barbecue stand in front of the machine shop where Ferdinand worked.
Ferdinand would have free inasal from Nora every afternoon for snacks. Nora adored him so much. He loved her so much as well. He would only eat the inasal if Nora roasted it for him. However, Nora’s parents stood between them when they knew about their relationship.
“We are poor as a rat and you’ll settle with that man poorer than the rat?” Nora’s father insulted Ferdinand.
“I love your daughter so much! I’m willing to marry her-”
“YOU ONLY LOVE HER SO YOU CAN HAVE A FREE INASAL!”
Nora was banned to see Ferdinand. His father no longer allowed her to roast inasal in their barbecue stand. It broke Ferdinand’s heart. A month later, he discovered that Nora was already in Japan, taken by her sister who was a Japayuki.
Love is no better the second time around. Love is BITTER the second time around.
Soon, Ferdinand left his uncle’s machine shop. His eyes were hit accidentally by the sparks of the welding rod. He was fine but left the shop as soon as possible before his deleterious job would blind him completely.
He met his third girlfriend, Becky. He was having a business that time, selling fish in Libertad. Becky was a fellow fish vendor. They were stallmates one day, the rest was history.
Ferdinand would want to stop loving women that time. The memory of Nora hurt him. But then, Becky healed his love wounds. Becky wasn’t pretty but she was kind, thoughtful, and caring. She would wipe Ferdinand’s sweat while they sold bangus, bukao-bukao, lagao, and binoro. She would help bark for customers so that Ferdinand’s goods would all be sold.
There was a raid one afternoon in Libertad Public Market. The authorities inspected the vendors’ weighing scales whether they put secret weights to fool customers or not. Ferdinand wasn’t guilty. Becky, however, was caught.
The fourth woman in the life of Ferdinand Genovia was older than him. Ferdinand, by then, was back in Calatrava courtesy of the Marcos’ regime. He was back in farming, and he met Agnes Mayuga, a widow with three children.
Their relationship was a secret. It was taboo. Agnes owned a store in town where Ferdinand brought his rice from the farm to be sold. The made love everytime they were with each other. Agnes was the most aggressive woman Ferdinand had screwed in bed.
“What if I get pregnant? Will you marry me?” Agnes asked Ferdinand one night.
Ferdinand found himself not able to answer the question. My God…what will the people say?
“Ferdie? I’m asking you dear…”
“I…uhm…yeah sure…”
Ferdinand was cornered. Actually, he had little love Agnes. Before they did things on the bed, he was just using the poor widow so that his farm products would be sold.
Agnes got pregnant. She told her lover when she was carrying the fetus three months already.
Damn! Point of no return. “I will marry you, Agnes…and to hell what other people will say.”
Ferdinand readied himself to become a father. They planned to announce that they were going to be married when Agnes’ stomach would be huge enough to be visible to people.
In her fifth month of pregnancy, Agnes could no longer keep in secret her bulging abdomen. Agnes called for his parents and sisters in Iloilo to come by for a very important announcement.
On the eve of their announcement, a tragedy happened. Agnes accidentally fell from the stairs in their house. She had severe hemorrhage. The baby died, so as the mother.
Agnes family was horrified when they arrived in Calatrava the next day. It wasn’t why Agnes was dead. It was why she was pregnant. In curiosity, they asked the children if their mother was seeing someone after their father died. Agnes’ children answered none. They were traumatized by their sudden orphaned lives.
Ferdinand was about to enter Agnes’ house when he noticed the pandemonium inside. He heard from the neighbors that the widow died of accidental abortion. He, too, was horrified. He couldn’t believe it. He was about to have a child! He fled from the town proper and stayed in their farm for good.
He felt terribly guilty. But then…he was free.
One reason why Ferdinand decided to work in Taiwan was that, he wanted to be born again. He had experienced enough cruelty of fate. He had been none other than, Cupid’s dummy.
He worked in Taiwan Moon Hotel as a bellboy. He loved it there. Seventy percent of the newly-opened hotel’s employees were Filipinos. So Ferdinand wasn’t homesick. It felt like he was just in the Philippines.
It is said that God listens when you pray to flee from hatred. But God is deaf when you want to flee from love. Even in Taiwan, when Ferdinand had no plans of falling in love again, he was still menaced by Cupid.
This time, the woman was a decade younger than her. Eliza Javier came from Cebu and Ferdinand fell in love with her wittyness. Eliza was a receptionist in the hotel. She and Ferdinand flirted when there was free time.
“Nand, I love you so much,” the naked Eliza said hugging her lover beside her. She was the only person who had called Ferdinand by the nick ‘Nand’. It was their dayoff. They dated and finally made love.
“I love you too, Eliza,” Ferdinand kissed his fifth girlfriend on the forehead.
“Do you know that you’re my first?”
Ferdinand blushed. So that’s why she bled while we did it.
“Do you want me to be your second also?”
Eliza grinned and replied, “I love that.”
And they made love once again.
It was December, Ferdinand’s second year abroad. Eliza told him that she would be going home in Cebu to attend her brother’s wedding. It saddened Ferdinand to be separated for a while from his girlfriend. After all, it’s Christmas.
“Don’t worry Nand, I’ll come back after a month. I promise. I will call you so you won’t miss me much.”
So Eliza was gone. Ferdinand spent the worst Christmas in his life. He longed for her, wanting her in her arms, on bed, kissing her lips. What hurt him more was that, Eliza seldom called, against what she promised.
The new year came. Eliza hadn’t returned. Then came February, and March, and April…no Eliza came back in Taiwan. It was driving Ferdinand crazy. Eliza was no longer calling him. What happened? I thought she loves me? Oh God…I’m such a fool…
One day, Ferdinand learned the truth from a fellow bellboy who came from Cebu. Eliza didn’t come home for her brother’s wedding. She came home for HER OWN WEDDING.
And Ferdinand realized that he wasn’t born again in Taiwan. He died again.
When he came back in the Philippines years later, he closed his heart. He swore to himself that he would no longer be Cupid’s dummy. He was getting old. Better experienced at least than none at all.
There were six women in Ferdinand’s life. The sixth however was paradoxical. Ferdinand wasn’t sure whether he felt something for the woman or none at all.
He was drunk when they made love.
They were both desperate.
It was only a one night stand.
c e s a r
Mr. and Mrs. Gregorio Benitez had a desperation: to have a female child. But then, testosterone was oozing in the blood. After a year of marriage, Hannah Benitez gave birth to a boy. After a year, still a boy. Another boy for a third. In their fourth attempt, they prayed to all the saints to have what they want. Gregorio was looking at the pictures of Sharon, Nora, Vilma, and Maricel while he screwed his wife.
Their fourth was a son.
The Benitez family lived in Canetown, Victorias. Mr. Benitez was fortunate enough to have a post in the world renowned Victorias Milling Company (VICMICO). He graduated BS Chemical Engineering and began as brown sugar inspector in the company. In five years, he became a supervisor. VICMICO provides homes for their trusted workers, especially supervisors. Thus, the Benitez family got their nice home along with the houses of other VICMICO supervisors.
Not only did the Benitez family was benefited by a free residence. Their sons’ education also would never be a problem. Like the sons of other supervisors in the company, they would be having scholarships in Don Bosco Technical Institute, a school for boys famous in the province.
Cesar Benitez, youngest of Gregorio’s son, was spoiled by his mother when he was a young boy. His elder brothers envied him for that.
“Hello Baby Cessie…see this? This is a flower,” Cesar’s mother would say to her son in the crib. She called her son Cessie, a name that the rest of the family loathed.
Cesar would smile innocently in his crib. Then his mother would place the flower on her son’s ear.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
As Cesar grew up, his mother bought him many clothes. His mother loved dressing him. His clothes’ colors were red, yellow, orange, violet…sometimes, rainbow colors.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
Also, Cesar’s mother wanted her youngest son’s hair long. Cesar wondered why his brothers always got semi-kalbo, while he wasn’t allowed to have any haircut. His mother would say, “Cutting your hair will make you ugly, like that story I told you…Rapunzel?” And then his mother would endlessly comb his hair.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
It was only when Cesar entered elementary school that he knew that his mother treated him like a daughter all those years.
Yes, Cesar’s brothers envied him. But Cesar envied his brothers also. When he got all his mother’s love, he had his father’s attention less. His father was closer to his other siblings.
Every afternoon, when his father would come home from work, he would just stare at him along with his elder brothers playing basketball in the yard.
In picnics, his father and brothers would play Frisbee while he helped his mother prepare the food in the cottage.
When they go malling, his mother would bring him in the ladies’ section while his brothers go with their father in the sports section.
And speaking of sports…
Rhosan, eldest of the four siblings, was trained well by their father in swimming. Every weekend they went to Sta. Fe Resort in Bacolod to practice. As young as 12, Rhosan already garnered five gold medals in the water sport.
Denel, second eldest, was enrolled by their father in a Taekwondo class. Denel excelled in martial arts. He always dared his father for a sparring. His father was proud, when he wore his black belt at 14.
Karmelo’s sport was soccer. He joined their team when he was in elementary and pursued it until high school. He was aiming for the World Cup, or just the Tiger Cup. So did his father.
Cesar’s? His only known sport was Scrabble. His mother was his ultimate opponent.
In 1951, Don Miguel Ossorio, president of Victorias Milling Company, together with the Salesian Society, instituted a Catholic school for boys in Victorias. The school was named Don Bosco Technical Institute (DBTI), after the Salesian founder, St. John Bosco, who dreamed to establish schools to mold young people into faithful Christians and honest citizens. The school became the first Salesian school in the country, after the said Salesian brothers were expelled from communist China.
Originally, DBTI accepted only the sons of the employees of VICMICO. But as it became known, along with St. Mary Mazarello School, the parallel school for girls, it was open for different boys, from local, or national. The rich sons had to graduate in the said school, which was also their rich fathers’ alma mater.
Aside form arts and other sciences, DBTI focused more in mechanics and electronics, and later computer technology for the education of the boys – things which are manly. At young age, boys had to learn the basics of carpentry, metalworks, machinery, and everything purposeful in the industrial field. As what a quote cliché in the campus, “Hard work creates men from boys.”
Gregorio Benitez enrolled all his sons in Don Bosco Technical Institute. As a supervisor in VICMICO, he and his wife didn’t have a problem with their sons’ tuition fees. They would want to have a child to be enrolled at St. Mary Mazzarelo School. But then, they failed to produce an offspring of such sort.
I’m different.
The six-year-old Cesar felt like a fish out of water when he entered elementary at Don Bosco. Boys. Boys. Boys. The school was full of boys.
I want to stay home with Mama.
There were also girls in the campus. Teachers. Some were nuns, visitors to the Salesian brothers from St. Mary Mazzarelo.
“Cesar, what are your hobbies?” Mrs. Rodriguez, Cesar’s grade two teacher, asked him in their class.
“Ah…uhmm…I love gardening…helping my Mama in the kitchen…and playing jackstone with my cousins.”
The classroom burst to laughter.
“Cesar? You play jackstone?”
“Yes Maam…what’s wrong with that?”
The classroom burst to laughter.
“Well Cesar…helping your mother in the kitchen is a good hobby. But playing jackstone? Isn’t it a game for girls?”
“I enjoy playing it Maam.”
The classroom burst to laughter.
Mrs. Rodriguez wanted to laugh but she tried to control the noise. “Class, keep quiet. Well, Cesar says that’s his hobby…a weird hobby for him. Very good Cesar…who else wants to share?”
Cesar sat down. He heard one of his classmates quipped, “Why don’t he transfer to St. Mary Mazzarelo? Haha.”
Yeah. Why not? I would love to be in other schools.
“Dad, Cesar was teased at school by his classmates. They called him ‘gay’,” Denel broke the silence in their supper one evening.
“What? Is it true?” their father turned to Cesar.
Cesar said no word.
“Is it true?”
“Who said that to our brother? I’ll kill him tomorrow,” Rhosan said.
“I’m asking you Cesar, is it true?”
“Yes Dad…but…it’s nothing…” Cesar replied forcively.
“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Karmelo exclaimed. “It’s a humiliation! I would punch anyone calling me that…”
“Did you punch the boy who teased you?”
Denel chuckled. “Oh Dad, I heard he cried.”
“WHAT?!” The head of the family dropped his spoon in disbelief. “You just cried?! Cesar, it only means you accepted what they called you.”
“Dad, I told you…it’s nothing…” Cesar lost his appetite. He hated his brother Denel for bringing out the topic.
“But dear boy…you should’ve-”
“ENOUGH!” The mother finally entered the conversation. “Greg, you’ve heard your son. It’s nothing for him…why bother?”
“Hannah, it’s a shame to have a gay in the family. Remember Pare Digoy? Well, his son who has just graduated high school confessed to him that he’s gay. My poor kumpare nearly died of heart attack.”
“Greg, enough of this I said. Our son is not gay. Why Cesar? Are you?”
Cesar wiggled his head.
I think I am. I think I’m not.
Cesar began masturbating when he was 11. He only heard of the word ‘masturbation’ once when his brothers would talk about it. They shared one room.
“Denel…Denel…have you tried it?” Rhosan would ask his brother in whispers.
“Yes. It’s kinda gross but…damn…the feeling is great!”
“Karmelo told me…he tried it a couple of times…he loved it too. As for me, I’m dying to do the real thing…ya know…fucking women in bed…”
“Yeah bro, that would be nice.”
Cesar would pretend to be asleep. But he tried hard to hear everything. He was curious. Every time his brothers talked about jacking off, he had a boner. He wanted also to do the ‘thing’.
His long wait was over. He discovered at last how to masturbate. Thanks to his brother Rhosan who was stupid enough to leave the door in the room unlocked while he did the ‘thing’.
Cesar became a peeping tom for the first time. He could see that Rhosan’s eyes were closed, as if imagining something. His genitals all exposed, his right hand holding the shaft of his penis, stroking it up and down. A few minutes later, something spurted out from the tip of his brother’s penis.
That must be the semen they’re talking about.
That night, while Cesar was taking a batch, he began stroking his penis like what his brother did. He never felt his penis that hard before. After a few minutes, he reached his first orgasm. His body stiffened. A small drop of semen came out of his penis.
This is awesome!
It became the new addiction of Cesar. He didn’t want his brothers to know that he knew how to masturbate already because if they did, the conversation would surely lead to his voyeurism. He would do it as often as everyday. He would hide in the CR or in their room, when his brothers weren’t around.
One day, Cesar discovered a magazine beneath his brother Karmelo’s bed. It was Playboy.
Good. I’ll not use my imagination anymore.
He began to masturbate while flipping the pages of the porn magazine. Jacking off was better it. Looking at the pictures made him hornier. By then he was shooting loads of semen already.
When he was near orgasm, he directed his penis to a picture in the magazine.
He spurted his sperms to the muscular guy fucking instead to the woman being fucked.
High school life in Don Bosco was different for Cesar Benitez. If in elementary, he despised boys, now, he seemed to like them. And in high school, he found his real friends, boys who also once felt being different.
I’m not at all different. I am the same as my friends.
In Don Bosco high school, all students are boys. But balance of nature has to be maintained. So instead of girls, there are the gays. These gays, however, aren’t those who dare to spread their capes and walk like beauty queens with their crowns. They’re discreet. They have to act like men because, not the only will they be expelled when the Salesian brothers caught them behaving like girls, they will be dead with their parents. Yes, they know who won in Ms. Universe in this year or that year, but they have to zip their mouths.
Cesar and his friends belonged to the groups who aren’t ‘real’ boys. There were four of them in their barkada: Chris, Jake, Lawrence, and Cesar. Their favorite place in the campus was none other than, the basketball court.
“Oh my god…Kenneth is so yummy,” Chris muttered one day. They were in the basketball court one afternoon, watching their sweaty schoolmates playing.
“You said it Chris,” Jake quipped. “Kenneth oh Kenneth…he’s so sweaty…I think I will wipe his sweat late-”
“Gaga! Ambisyosa! Anyway…my Harold is more macho than that Kenneth.”
“Yuck Lawrence!” chorused Chris and Jake.
“Harold is a maniac!”
“Whatevs.”
Cesar would just listen to his friends. He wasn’t effeminate as they were. How he envied them, being so open with their feelings. He couldn’t get out of the closet. His brothers were still in the campus, ready anytime to tell their father if he behaved something ‘queer’.
It didn’t matter though, in the campus, whether one’s gay or not. Discrimination lessened compared to that in elementary. As a matter of fact, most of the achievers were discreet gays slash bisexuals.
It would be a dream-come-true if you’re gay, your seatmate is a straight guy, the teacher is a sexy woman, and you’re sitting on a desk which hides everything below the torso. Your straight guy classmate would be horny enough to request you to stroke his cock beneath the desk while he fantasizes fucking your sexy teacher.
In the classroom, it was okay if who was teased for having a crush with who (e.g. “Guys! Gary has a crush on Leandro!) It was just like having girls for classmates. Gays made classes livelier. Sometimes, the teachers would even join with the jokes.
Except for the Salesian brothers. For them, homosexuality will always be a mortal sin. His sophomore year was the worst for Cesar. And his blames all went to the Salesian brothers’ unjust school rules.
Chris was kicked out of the school for having been caught putting on makeup in the CR by one of the Salesian brothers.
Lawrence followed his friend out of school when he was caught by a teacher shrieking like a deranged woman upon a lightning.
Jake was also kicked out. Kenneth’s mother accused him of frotteurism with her son.
Cesar loved his friends, and he hated it seeing them disappear one by one. He found where he belonged but then, they were shattered. He felt so different once again.
Is it a crime being who you are? Isn’t it a mortal sin not being who you ought to be?
When Cesar was in third year, only one of his brothers was left in the campus: Karmelo. Rhosan took up Marine Biology in Silliman University, Dumaguete while Denel took up Dentistry in Cebu while.
Somehow, Cesar could breathe free.
At home though, he wasn’t comfortable with himself and Karmelo now sharing one room. Karmelo was a pervert. He feared Karmelo doing something with him.
In school, Karmelo would boo him playing volleyball, the only sport Cesar decided to join. Karmelo, by then, was already the captain of the school’s soccer team and was going in and out of the province for competitions, and, sometimes, championships.
“Dad, I joined the volleyball team,” Cesar told his father at dinner.
His father said nothing.
“That’s good Cessie,” his mother broke the silence. “At least you’re into sports now…isn’t it Dad?”
Karmelo snorted. “Oh Mom…what do you mean sports? Volleyball is for faggots!”
Somehow, Cesar missed his other two brothers.
He had been close to Rhosan. Cesar’s eldest brother defended him when his other brothers accused him of being gay. Rhosan was like his second father. He missed him tickling him. He missed his muscular arms.
He had incestual desires for Denel. Cesar had been guilty of it all the time. Denel was the handsomest of them four. Cesar’s second eldest brother would receive a bundle of letters from the girls in St. Mary Mazzarelo. He missed hugging his brother’s sweaty tees. He missed sniffing his used underwear.
It was in his third year when Cesar Benitez met Ryan Gaspar. They became one of those few from their batch who became members of the Salesian Student Society (S-Cube). Though Cesar didn’t like some of the Salesians, he had no choice but to join the club because activities of some other clubs were quite tough for himself. After all, it wasn’t a burden for him having prayer meetings on weekends or just sharing how God maneuvers their lives. There was only one Salesian brother acting adviser. The rest of the members were students.
It was December, and Cesar never thought his heart would beat for someone for the very first time. They were having a mid-year recollection in the school’s retreat house, atop the mountains of Mambukal. Don Bosco Retreat House was a perfect place for a retreat. But the S-Cube wasn’t there for such purpose. For Cesar, it was the beginning of everything.
“Hi. You’re from section Shrugi right?”
Cesar was surprised when a dark-haired fellow member sat beside him on a giant rock. The sudden companion had with him, a brown-colored guitar. They were free that afternoon, allowed to explore the silent vicinity while waiting for dinner.
Cesar just nodded. He was thinking about the sermon they had in the recollection that morning.
“I’m Ryan, third year too…section Savio. You’re new in the club, right?”
There was friendliness in Ryan’s voice and Cesar was beginning to like him.
“Yes. And I’m enjoying somehow. I’m Cesar.” He couldn’t think of any topic. He wasn’t used of talking to other schoolmates, since his three best friends left. “Nice guitar.”
“Oh...I almost forgot to introduce her. Cesar, this is my best friend, Gretchen…Gretchen, this is Cesar, our new friend.”
Cesar would like to chuckle. But Ryan seemed serious. “Your best friend is a guitar? And it got a name?”
“SHE has a name. And yes…Gretchen…named after my beautiful and sexy celebrity crush.”
“I wish I know how to play guitar. It’s one of my desperations-”
“REALLY?!” Ryan cried. “It’s divine intervention then…want me to teach you?”
“Thanks but…I’m no fast learner.”
“Playing the guitar is easy as pie friend,” Ryan began to discuss. “You hold Gretchen…”
Cesar was shocked holding the brown guitar. It was supposed to be a nonsense topic opener. He never wanted to learn play the instrument.
“Now Cesar…you place your fingers here…and here…that’s it…now strum with your other hand…”
Cesar strummed.
“Bravo! That’s the chord F sharp minor…”
Then they practiced chords A, B, C, G, and so on. Cesar never thought it was that easy. Denel once taught him but his brother gave up with his slow learning. Not Ryan. Cesar’s new friend taught him in words he could easily decipher.
“Gee…I’m quite learning…thanks to you…”
“Nah…I’m glad teaching this craft, right Gretchen?”
Smiles.
Before they were called for dinner, Ryan played the song To Be With You by Mr. Big in front of Cesar.
Cesar knew that he fell in love at last.
It was February. Don Bosco Day. Students from various schools visited the campus for the exhibition of Bosconian crafts and inventions. There were banderitas. There were kiosks. Programs seemed endless in the quadrangle.
Beneath an acacia tree, far from busy people, Cesar and Ryan found solitude for themselves. They walked out of the play depicting the life of St. John Bosco in the quadrangle.
“T’was boring,” Ryan began. “Besides, we’ve already known that story…”
“For funds.”
“Oh yeah…funds of course. Haha. The actors there…almost all of them were gays…”
Gays. The word echoed in Cesar’s thoughts. He was silent for a few minutes until Ryan began to notice him.
“Cesar? What’s wrong? Did I say something bad?”
Silence.
“C’mon…don’t you trust me? I’m your new best friend…”
Best friend.
“Ryan,” Cesar spoke at last. “Do you remember that sermon Brother Ray gave to us in Mambukal?”
“Hmmm…about the friendship of Jonathan and David in the Bible?”
“Exactly. I’ve been thinking about it since then. Ya know…ideal friendship…”
“Yeah…what was it? David loved Jonathan as much as he loved himself…great…”
“The word is ‘ideal’. Maybe it could exist in the ancient times. But nowadays…I don’t think so.”
Ryan coughed. “You don’t? How come?”
“Well, such friendship…here in the Philippines, seems like it’s impossible. If the two of you have that kind of ‘love’ for each other…you might as well be mistaken for something…”
“You mean, as lovers? You mean…homosexual relationship?”
Cesar nodded.
“Nah, I don’t think so. Me, I love you more than I love myself...”
Cesar chuckled. He forced himself not to blush.
“But we’re not lovers, right? I mean, I love you as a friend, a best friend in fact.”
Cesar sighed. “Ryan, what if I tell you that I am…gay?”
There was silence.
Dead end. This is it. I’ve been hiding the real me so I can have his friendship. But then, it’s the end now. Happily never after…
“You are?” Ryan said with disbelief on his face.
“Shall we say…uhmm…sometimes, I feel ‘something’ for guys like me.”
Silence. A wind passed by and dry acacia leaves fell like rain.
“Know what best friend, it doesn’t matter to me at all. I don’t chose my friends because they’re this and that…oh, now I get it…you were disappointed of me a while ago saying against those faggots on stage, right?”
“Sort of.”
“C’mon, Cesar…that’s just a joke. I don’t despise our gay schoolmates at all. In fact, I’m fond of them. They’re funny…and most of them are quite intelligent…”
Cesar couldn’t say a word.
“Well, Cesar…I know we’ve been close in just a few months. But I know you. Be it that you’re gay, I know you’re not doing anything wrong. I mean, you can’t stop that feeling…it’s love…that feeling becomes a sin when it becomes lust…”
Cesar’s tears began to fall.
“Are you okay?” Ryan patted his back. “You can cry on my shoulder.”
“I’m sorry Ryan…it’s just…ahh…I hate myself bein this…but there’s nothing I can do-”
To Cesar’s surprise, Ryan pulled him to his shoulders. More tears.
“C’mon best friend. God loves you. He won’t like it if you hate yourself. He has plans for you.”
More tears.
Cesar never felt so happy when he opened up to his best friend Ryan about his sexuality. At least he had found someone whom he could trust, who he could pour out all his angst about the cruel world.
Yes, he loved him. The more they got closer, the more that feeling tortured him. Cesar wouldn’t let his best friend get disappointed with him. He could remember Ryan’s words beneath the acacia tree. That feeling becomes a sin when it becomes lust.
Renunciation Against Repulsion
By C. Benitez
When I look at you,
I feel hot,
burning hot
I am in flames –
being devoured by it
little by little
My body turns to ash
How much more
when I touch you
and when you touch me
I get breathless
I burst to pieces
I vanish to oblivion
Such righteousness embraces you
Such evil is in my skin
Repulsion is inevitable
It’s suicide to get near
But I’m willing to renounce
I’m tired of the dark
I lust the blinding light
Your light.
“Best friend, what’s your plans? Ya know, we will be graduating next year…you might have already something in your mind.” Ryan was reading his Bible when he asked Cesar in the canteen one day.
“I want to be a teacher. My father wants me to take up BS Bio though, so I can proceed to medicine. I dunno really…it’s cloudy at the moment. How I wish I’m free to choose.”
“My mind is fixed,” Ryan replied silently. “I’m going to serve Him. I’ll enter the seminary. My parents respect my decision.”
It broke Cesar’s heart.
How can I fight for my love, if my rival is Himself, the source of love?
It was April and Karmelo was graduating. Cesar couldn’t wait to make their room his own. Karmelo was planning to take up Engineering in UP-Diliman.
At last, Karmelo’s getting away. No threats now.
One night, when Cesar was sleeping, he was awakened by the sudden entrance of his brother in their room. He grabbed the alarm clock on the divider beside his bed. It was 2 am.
Looking at his brother’s silhouette as he entered, Cesar concluded that Karmelo was drunk. He was invited by his friend that afternoon for a pre-graduation party.
Cesar pretended to be asleep. A few minutes later, he was surprised when Karmelo removed his blanket.
“Karmelo! It’s two in the morning damnit…gimme some sleep!”
“Wake up, you faggot,” Karmelo whispered with a slurred speech.
“WHAT?!” Cesar angrily asked.
“You know what little brother…you were the talk of the town…I mean…in the party…”
Cesar listened curiously. He felt a sudden nervousness.
“You faggot! I knew it! I knew it…my friends just confirmed it. They saw you and your friend…that geek Ryan…you kissed under a tree secretly last Don Bosco Day! Haha!”
“You’re drunk Karmelo…you don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“I’m not DRUNK! Get up faggot! Admit it…you’re a bitch!”
Cesar remained silent. He was wondering who saw them under the acacia tree. I just cried…I never kissed Ryan…never…
He heard Karmelo opening his cabinet. Seconds later the light was on. Cesar felt something thrown to him by his drunken brother.
“Recognize those?”
Cesar was horrified. Scattered on his bed were newspaper and magazine clippings of shirtless pictures of Aga Muhlach, Richard Gomez, Robin Padilla, and many others.
“I saw you masturbating with those pictures one time. I knew it…Cessie so girly…wait until Dad knows this…”
“Please don’t tell Dad.” Adrenaline rush made Cesar said the words.
“Aha…so you’re guilty? What a shame…”
“Karmelo, please, I’m begging you…don’t tell Dad…Mama knows it already. But not our father…please, I’ll do everything-”
“Everything? You sure brother…I mean, sister?”
Cesar nodded. He had no choice. His father would surely kill him when he knows one of his sons is gay.
“Okay then. How about this…I’ll zip my mouth, and you’ll be my bitch as long as Dad doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this…”
Karmelo stripped naked and revealed to anxious Cesar his engorged penis, pulsating in his horniness.
“Suck it, my pretty bitch!”
Cesar’s worst nightmare had come.
He had been silent about his brother’s blackmails and sadism. He couldn’t tell his mother. For sure, his mother would scold his brother and his brother would open the secret.
It was a bad news in the family when Karmelo didn’t pass the UPCAT. He had no choice but to enroll in some other school in Bacolod. He was accepted in West Negros College.
It was death for Cesar. Karmelo would come home to Victorias every weekend and their incest continued.
“Suck it bitch…swallow everything…”
“I just can’t fuck my girlfriend in Bacolod. It’s good I can fuck you anytime I want…”
“Let’s see if putting this cock of mine in your cute ass would taste like fuckin a pussy…”
Cesar had a taste of hell while on earth. He used to fantasize making love with the man of his dreams. But what Karmelo did made him puke even just staring at a picture of a man’s penis.
He couldn’t tell his best friend either. It was Cesar’s only secret never told to Ryan. They were already in their fourth year.
“Best friend…are you alright? Why are you walking like that? Something wrong with your hips?”
The memory of Karmelo fucking his anus the previous night brought Cesar to tears that instant.
“Shall I take you to the school clinic?” Ryan was sweet enough for Cesar to say ‘Yes’. If only I can tell you…
“NO! I’m fine…I’m just…it’s my stomach…But I’ll be fine…”
“You sure? Just tell me if it really bothers you, okay?”
Ryan’s smile while caressing his back gave Cesar a momentary bliss.
Three months later, Ryan and Cesar had to say goodbye to each other. High school days are over. Farewells to their alma mater.
“It’s not yet the end, best friend. We’ll see each other again…I’ll always pray for you.”
Ryan hugged Cesar so tight. Cesar couldn’t believe he would be saying goodbye to his best friend at last. He didn’t want to let go of his best friend hugging him.
“I’ll miss you, so much. I’ll pray for you too…thanks for…thanks for understanding…and everything…”
Cesar felt something damp touch his cheeks. It was so quick. Was it a kiss? Did he just kiss me?
“Goodbye, best friend!”
Cesar was speechless in disbelief.
“I love you…”
He was speaking to himself. Ryan was gone in the crowd.
“…As much as I love myself.”
Summer that year, Cesar felt like giving up his sanity. The world was getting heavier on his shoulders. His father forced him taking up the entrance exam for BS Biology in the University of St. La Salle.
“I’m proud of you son, passing the entrance exam. Ten years from now, there will be a doctor in the family!”
“Dad, I don’t like to be-”
“Teaching is a profession for poor people. We got money. You’re lucky unlike everyone else. You will become Cesar Benitez, M.D. That’s final.”
Cesar wanted to commit suicide.
“And before I forget, son, I already got an apartment for you and Karmelo…so that you’ll be staying together. I’ve seen the place, quite good, only a few blocks away from La Salle…”
Cesar wished he had never been born.
With me and Karmelo sharing a room once again, I’ll be his bitch forever…
Late May, Cesar decided to talk to his mother.
“Ma, I got to tell you something…it’s about Karmelo…”
Early June, Cesar left Victorias for Bacolod to begin tertiary education.
When he was in Bacolod, he proceeded to Banago Port and bought a ticket bound to Manila.
Mr. and Mrs. Gregorio Benitez had a desperation: to have a female child. But then, testosterone was oozing in the blood. After a year of marriage, Hannah Benitez gave birth to a boy. After a year, still a boy. Another boy for a third. In their fourth attempt, they prayed to all the saints to have what they want. Gregorio was looking at the pictures of Sharon, Nora, Vilma, and Maricel while he screwed his wife.
Their fourth was a son.
The Benitez family lived in Canetown, Victorias. Mr. Benitez was fortunate enough to have a post in the world renowned Victorias Milling Company (VICMICO). He graduated BS Chemical Engineering and began as brown sugar inspector in the company. In five years, he became a supervisor. VICMICO provides homes for their trusted workers, especially supervisors. Thus, the Benitez family got their nice home along with the houses of other VICMICO supervisors.
Not only did the Benitez family was benefited by a free residence. Their sons’ education also would never be a problem. Like the sons of other supervisors in the company, they would be having scholarships in Don Bosco Technical Institute, a school for boys famous in the province.
Cesar Benitez, youngest of Gregorio’s son, was spoiled by his mother when he was a young boy. His elder brothers envied him for that.
“Hello Baby Cessie…see this? This is a flower,” Cesar’s mother would say to her son in the crib. She called her son Cessie, a name that the rest of the family loathed.
Cesar would smile innocently in his crib. Then his mother would place the flower on her son’s ear.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
As Cesar grew up, his mother bought him many clothes. His mother loved dressing him. His clothes’ colors were red, yellow, orange, violet…sometimes, rainbow colors.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
Also, Cesar’s mother wanted her youngest son’s hair long. Cesar wondered why his brothers always got semi-kalbo, while he wasn’t allowed to have any haircut. His mother would say, “Cutting your hair will make you ugly, like that story I told you…Rapunzel?” And then his mother would endlessly comb his hair.
“Oh my goodness…my son is so beautiful!”
It was only when Cesar entered elementary school that he knew that his mother treated him like a daughter all those years.
Yes, Cesar’s brothers envied him. But Cesar envied his brothers also. When he got all his mother’s love, he had his father’s attention less. His father was closer to his other siblings.
Every afternoon, when his father would come home from work, he would just stare at him along with his elder brothers playing basketball in the yard.
In picnics, his father and brothers would play Frisbee while he helped his mother prepare the food in the cottage.
When they go malling, his mother would bring him in the ladies’ section while his brothers go with their father in the sports section.
And speaking of sports…
Rhosan, eldest of the four siblings, was trained well by their father in swimming. Every weekend they went to Sta. Fe Resort in Bacolod to practice. As young as 12, Rhosan already garnered five gold medals in the water sport.
Denel, second eldest, was enrolled by their father in a Taekwondo class. Denel excelled in martial arts. He always dared his father for a sparring. His father was proud, when he wore his black belt at 14.
Karmelo’s sport was soccer. He joined their team when he was in elementary and pursued it until high school. He was aiming for the World Cup, or just the Tiger Cup. So did his father.
Cesar’s? His only known sport was Scrabble. His mother was his ultimate opponent.
In 1951, Don Miguel Ossorio, president of Victorias Milling Company, together with the Salesian Society, instituted a Catholic school for boys in Victorias. The school was named Don Bosco Technical Institute (DBTI), after the Salesian founder, St. John Bosco, who dreamed to establish schools to mold young people into faithful Christians and honest citizens. The school became the first Salesian school in the country, after the said Salesian brothers were expelled from communist China.
Originally, DBTI accepted only the sons of the employees of VICMICO. But as it became known, along with St. Mary Mazarello School, the parallel school for girls, it was open for different boys, from local, or national. The rich sons had to graduate in the said school, which was also their rich fathers’ alma mater.
Aside form arts and other sciences, DBTI focused more in mechanics and electronics, and later computer technology for the education of the boys – things which are manly. At young age, boys had to learn the basics of carpentry, metalworks, machinery, and everything purposeful in the industrial field. As what a quote cliché in the campus, “Hard work creates men from boys.”
Gregorio Benitez enrolled all his sons in Don Bosco Technical Institute. As a supervisor in VICMICO, he and his wife didn’t have a problem with their sons’ tuition fees. They would want to have a child to be enrolled at St. Mary Mazzarelo School. But then, they failed to produce an offspring of such sort.
I’m different.
The six-year-old Cesar felt like a fish out of water when he entered elementary at Don Bosco. Boys. Boys. Boys. The school was full of boys.
I want to stay home with Mama.
There were also girls in the campus. Teachers. Some were nuns, visitors to the Salesian brothers from St. Mary Mazzarelo.
“Cesar, what are your hobbies?” Mrs. Rodriguez, Cesar’s grade two teacher, asked him in their class.
“Ah…uhmm…I love gardening…helping my Mama in the kitchen…and playing jackstone with my cousins.”
The classroom burst to laughter.
“Cesar? You play jackstone?”
“Yes Maam…what’s wrong with that?”
The classroom burst to laughter.
“Well Cesar…helping your mother in the kitchen is a good hobby. But playing jackstone? Isn’t it a game for girls?”
“I enjoy playing it Maam.”
The classroom burst to laughter.
Mrs. Rodriguez wanted to laugh but she tried to control the noise. “Class, keep quiet. Well, Cesar says that’s his hobby…a weird hobby for him. Very good Cesar…who else wants to share?”
Cesar sat down. He heard one of his classmates quipped, “Why don’t he transfer to St. Mary Mazzarelo? Haha.”
Yeah. Why not? I would love to be in other schools.
“Dad, Cesar was teased at school by his classmates. They called him ‘gay’,” Denel broke the silence in their supper one evening.
“What? Is it true?” their father turned to Cesar.
Cesar said no word.
“Is it true?”
“Who said that to our brother? I’ll kill him tomorrow,” Rhosan said.
“I’m asking you Cesar, is it true?”
“Yes Dad…but…it’s nothing…” Cesar replied forcively.
“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Karmelo exclaimed. “It’s a humiliation! I would punch anyone calling me that…”
“Did you punch the boy who teased you?”
Denel chuckled. “Oh Dad, I heard he cried.”
“WHAT?!” The head of the family dropped his spoon in disbelief. “You just cried?! Cesar, it only means you accepted what they called you.”
“Dad, I told you…it’s nothing…” Cesar lost his appetite. He hated his brother Denel for bringing out the topic.
“But dear boy…you should’ve-”
“ENOUGH!” The mother finally entered the conversation. “Greg, you’ve heard your son. It’s nothing for him…why bother?”
“Hannah, it’s a shame to have a gay in the family. Remember Pare Digoy? Well, his son who has just graduated high school confessed to him that he’s gay. My poor kumpare nearly died of heart attack.”
“Greg, enough of this I said. Our son is not gay. Why Cesar? Are you?”
Cesar wiggled his head.
I think I am. I think I’m not.
Cesar began masturbating when he was 11. He only heard of the word ‘masturbation’ once when his brothers would talk about it. They shared one room.
“Denel…Denel…have you tried it?” Rhosan would ask his brother in whispers.
“Yes. It’s kinda gross but…damn…the feeling is great!”
“Karmelo told me…he tried it a couple of times…he loved it too. As for me, I’m dying to do the real thing…ya know…fucking women in bed…”
“Yeah bro, that would be nice.”
Cesar would pretend to be asleep. But he tried hard to hear everything. He was curious. Every time his brothers talked about jacking off, he had a boner. He wanted also to do the ‘thing’.
His long wait was over. He discovered at last how to masturbate. Thanks to his brother Rhosan who was stupid enough to leave the door in the room unlocked while he did the ‘thing’.
Cesar became a peeping tom for the first time. He could see that Rhosan’s eyes were closed, as if imagining something. His genitals all exposed, his right hand holding the shaft of his penis, stroking it up and down. A few minutes later, something spurted out from the tip of his brother’s penis.
That must be the semen they’re talking about.
That night, while Cesar was taking a batch, he began stroking his penis like what his brother did. He never felt his penis that hard before. After a few minutes, he reached his first orgasm. His body stiffened. A small drop of semen came out of his penis.
This is awesome!
It became the new addiction of Cesar. He didn’t want his brothers to know that he knew how to masturbate already because if they did, the conversation would surely lead to his voyeurism. He would do it as often as everyday. He would hide in the CR or in their room, when his brothers weren’t around.
One day, Cesar discovered a magazine beneath his brother Karmelo’s bed. It was Playboy.
Good. I’ll not use my imagination anymore.
He began to masturbate while flipping the pages of the porn magazine. Jacking off was better it. Looking at the pictures made him hornier. By then he was shooting loads of semen already.
When he was near orgasm, he directed his penis to a picture in the magazine.
He spurted his sperms to the muscular guy fucking instead to the woman being fucked.
High school life in Don Bosco was different for Cesar Benitez. If in elementary, he despised boys, now, he seemed to like them. And in high school, he found his real friends, boys who also once felt being different.
I’m not at all different. I am the same as my friends.
In Don Bosco high school, all students are boys. But balance of nature has to be maintained. So instead of girls, there are the gays. These gays, however, aren’t those who dare to spread their capes and walk like beauty queens with their crowns. They’re discreet. They have to act like men because, not the only will they be expelled when the Salesian brothers caught them behaving like girls, they will be dead with their parents. Yes, they know who won in Ms. Universe in this year or that year, but they have to zip their mouths.
Cesar and his friends belonged to the groups who aren’t ‘real’ boys. There were four of them in their barkada: Chris, Jake, Lawrence, and Cesar. Their favorite place in the campus was none other than, the basketball court.
“Oh my god…Kenneth is so yummy,” Chris muttered one day. They were in the basketball court one afternoon, watching their sweaty schoolmates playing.
“You said it Chris,” Jake quipped. “Kenneth oh Kenneth…he’s so sweaty…I think I will wipe his sweat late-”
“Gaga! Ambisyosa! Anyway…my Harold is more macho than that Kenneth.”
“Yuck Lawrence!” chorused Chris and Jake.
“Harold is a maniac!”
“Whatevs.”
Cesar would just listen to his friends. He wasn’t effeminate as they were. How he envied them, being so open with their feelings. He couldn’t get out of the closet. His brothers were still in the campus, ready anytime to tell their father if he behaved something ‘queer’.
It didn’t matter though, in the campus, whether one’s gay or not. Discrimination lessened compared to that in elementary. As a matter of fact, most of the achievers were discreet gays slash bisexuals.
It would be a dream-come-true if you’re gay, your seatmate is a straight guy, the teacher is a sexy woman, and you’re sitting on a desk which hides everything below the torso. Your straight guy classmate would be horny enough to request you to stroke his cock beneath the desk while he fantasizes fucking your sexy teacher.
In the classroom, it was okay if who was teased for having a crush with who (e.g. “Guys! Gary has a crush on Leandro!) It was just like having girls for classmates. Gays made classes livelier. Sometimes, the teachers would even join with the jokes.
Except for the Salesian brothers. For them, homosexuality will always be a mortal sin. His sophomore year was the worst for Cesar. And his blames all went to the Salesian brothers’ unjust school rules.
Chris was kicked out of the school for having been caught putting on makeup in the CR by one of the Salesian brothers.
Lawrence followed his friend out of school when he was caught by a teacher shrieking like a deranged woman upon a lightning.
Jake was also kicked out. Kenneth’s mother accused him of frotteurism with her son.
Cesar loved his friends, and he hated it seeing them disappear one by one. He found where he belonged but then, they were shattered. He felt so different once again.
Is it a crime being who you are? Isn’t it a mortal sin not being who you ought to be?
When Cesar was in third year, only one of his brothers was left in the campus: Karmelo. Rhosan took up Marine Biology in Silliman University, Dumaguete while Denel took up Dentistry in Cebu while.
Somehow, Cesar could breathe free.
At home though, he wasn’t comfortable with himself and Karmelo now sharing one room. Karmelo was a pervert. He feared Karmelo doing something with him.
In school, Karmelo would boo him playing volleyball, the only sport Cesar decided to join. Karmelo, by then, was already the captain of the school’s soccer team and was going in and out of the province for competitions, and, sometimes, championships.
“Dad, I joined the volleyball team,” Cesar told his father at dinner.
His father said nothing.
“That’s good Cessie,” his mother broke the silence. “At least you’re into sports now…isn’t it Dad?”
Karmelo snorted. “Oh Mom…what do you mean sports? Volleyball is for faggots!”
Somehow, Cesar missed his other two brothers.
He had been close to Rhosan. Cesar’s eldest brother defended him when his other brothers accused him of being gay. Rhosan was like his second father. He missed him tickling him. He missed his muscular arms.
He had incestual desires for Denel. Cesar had been guilty of it all the time. Denel was the handsomest of them four. Cesar’s second eldest brother would receive a bundle of letters from the girls in St. Mary Mazzarelo. He missed hugging his brother’s sweaty tees. He missed sniffing his used underwear.
It was in his third year when Cesar Benitez met Ryan Gaspar. They became one of those few from their batch who became members of the Salesian Student Society (S-Cube). Though Cesar didn’t like some of the Salesians, he had no choice but to join the club because activities of some other clubs were quite tough for himself. After all, it wasn’t a burden for him having prayer meetings on weekends or just sharing how God maneuvers their lives. There was only one Salesian brother acting adviser. The rest of the members were students.
It was December, and Cesar never thought his heart would beat for someone for the very first time. They were having a mid-year recollection in the school’s retreat house, atop the mountains of Mambukal. Don Bosco Retreat House was a perfect place for a retreat. But the S-Cube wasn’t there for such purpose. For Cesar, it was the beginning of everything.
“Hi. You’re from section Shrugi right?”
Cesar was surprised when a dark-haired fellow member sat beside him on a giant rock. The sudden companion had with him, a brown-colored guitar. They were free that afternoon, allowed to explore the silent vicinity while waiting for dinner.
Cesar just nodded. He was thinking about the sermon they had in the recollection that morning.
“I’m Ryan, third year too…section Savio. You’re new in the club, right?”
There was friendliness in Ryan’s voice and Cesar was beginning to like him.
“Yes. And I’m enjoying somehow. I’m Cesar.” He couldn’t think of any topic. He wasn’t used of talking to other schoolmates, since his three best friends left. “Nice guitar.”
“Oh...I almost forgot to introduce her. Cesar, this is my best friend, Gretchen…Gretchen, this is Cesar, our new friend.”
Cesar would like to chuckle. But Ryan seemed serious. “Your best friend is a guitar? And it got a name?”
“SHE has a name. And yes…Gretchen…named after my beautiful and sexy celebrity crush.”
“I wish I know how to play guitar. It’s one of my desperations-”
“REALLY?!” Ryan cried. “It’s divine intervention then…want me to teach you?”
“Thanks but…I’m no fast learner.”
“Playing the guitar is easy as pie friend,” Ryan began to discuss. “You hold Gretchen…”
Cesar was shocked holding the brown guitar. It was supposed to be a nonsense topic opener. He never wanted to learn play the instrument.
“Now Cesar…you place your fingers here…and here…that’s it…now strum with your other hand…”
Cesar strummed.
“Bravo! That’s the chord F sharp minor…”
Then they practiced chords A, B, C, G, and so on. Cesar never thought it was that easy. Denel once taught him but his brother gave up with his slow learning. Not Ryan. Cesar’s new friend taught him in words he could easily decipher.
“Gee…I’m quite learning…thanks to you…”
“Nah…I’m glad teaching this craft, right Gretchen?”
Smiles.
Before they were called for dinner, Ryan played the song To Be With You by Mr. Big in front of Cesar.
Cesar knew that he fell in love at last.
It was February. Don Bosco Day. Students from various schools visited the campus for the exhibition of Bosconian crafts and inventions. There were banderitas. There were kiosks. Programs seemed endless in the quadrangle.
Beneath an acacia tree, far from busy people, Cesar and Ryan found solitude for themselves. They walked out of the play depicting the life of St. John Bosco in the quadrangle.
“T’was boring,” Ryan began. “Besides, we’ve already known that story…”
“For funds.”
“Oh yeah…funds of course. Haha. The actors there…almost all of them were gays…”
Gays. The word echoed in Cesar’s thoughts. He was silent for a few minutes until Ryan began to notice him.
“Cesar? What’s wrong? Did I say something bad?”
Silence.
“C’mon…don’t you trust me? I’m your new best friend…”
Best friend.
“Ryan,” Cesar spoke at last. “Do you remember that sermon Brother Ray gave to us in Mambukal?”
“Hmmm…about the friendship of Jonathan and David in the Bible?”
“Exactly. I’ve been thinking about it since then. Ya know…ideal friendship…”
“Yeah…what was it? David loved Jonathan as much as he loved himself…great…”
“The word is ‘ideal’. Maybe it could exist in the ancient times. But nowadays…I don’t think so.”
Ryan coughed. “You don’t? How come?”
“Well, such friendship…here in the Philippines, seems like it’s impossible. If the two of you have that kind of ‘love’ for each other…you might as well be mistaken for something…”
“You mean, as lovers? You mean…homosexual relationship?”
Cesar nodded.
“Nah, I don’t think so. Me, I love you more than I love myself...”
Cesar chuckled. He forced himself not to blush.
“But we’re not lovers, right? I mean, I love you as a friend, a best friend in fact.”
Cesar sighed. “Ryan, what if I tell you that I am…gay?”
There was silence.
Dead end. This is it. I’ve been hiding the real me so I can have his friendship. But then, it’s the end now. Happily never after…
“You are?” Ryan said with disbelief on his face.
“Shall we say…uhmm…sometimes, I feel ‘something’ for guys like me.”
Silence. A wind passed by and dry acacia leaves fell like rain.
“Know what best friend, it doesn’t matter to me at all. I don’t chose my friends because they’re this and that…oh, now I get it…you were disappointed of me a while ago saying against those faggots on stage, right?”
“Sort of.”
“C’mon, Cesar…that’s just a joke. I don’t despise our gay schoolmates at all. In fact, I’m fond of them. They’re funny…and most of them are quite intelligent…”
Cesar couldn’t say a word.
“Well, Cesar…I know we’ve been close in just a few months. But I know you. Be it that you’re gay, I know you’re not doing anything wrong. I mean, you can’t stop that feeling…it’s love…that feeling becomes a sin when it becomes lust…”
Cesar’s tears began to fall.
“Are you okay?” Ryan patted his back. “You can cry on my shoulder.”
“I’m sorry Ryan…it’s just…ahh…I hate myself bein this…but there’s nothing I can do-”
To Cesar’s surprise, Ryan pulled him to his shoulders. More tears.
“C’mon best friend. God loves you. He won’t like it if you hate yourself. He has plans for you.”
More tears.
Cesar never felt so happy when he opened up to his best friend Ryan about his sexuality. At least he had found someone whom he could trust, who he could pour out all his angst about the cruel world.
Yes, he loved him. The more they got closer, the more that feeling tortured him. Cesar wouldn’t let his best friend get disappointed with him. He could remember Ryan’s words beneath the acacia tree. That feeling becomes a sin when it becomes lust.
Renunciation Against Repulsion
By C. Benitez
When I look at you,
I feel hot,
burning hot
I am in flames –
being devoured by it
little by little
My body turns to ash
How much more
when I touch you
and when you touch me
I get breathless
I burst to pieces
I vanish to oblivion
Such righteousness embraces you
Such evil is in my skin
Repulsion is inevitable
It’s suicide to get near
But I’m willing to renounce
I’m tired of the dark
I lust the blinding light
Your light.
“Best friend, what’s your plans? Ya know, we will be graduating next year…you might have already something in your mind.” Ryan was reading his Bible when he asked Cesar in the canteen one day.
“I want to be a teacher. My father wants me to take up BS Bio though, so I can proceed to medicine. I dunno really…it’s cloudy at the moment. How I wish I’m free to choose.”
“My mind is fixed,” Ryan replied silently. “I’m going to serve Him. I’ll enter the seminary. My parents respect my decision.”
It broke Cesar’s heart.
How can I fight for my love, if my rival is Himself, the source of love?
It was April and Karmelo was graduating. Cesar couldn’t wait to make their room his own. Karmelo was planning to take up Engineering in UP-Diliman.
At last, Karmelo’s getting away. No threats now.
One night, when Cesar was sleeping, he was awakened by the sudden entrance of his brother in their room. He grabbed the alarm clock on the divider beside his bed. It was 2 am.
Looking at his brother’s silhouette as he entered, Cesar concluded that Karmelo was drunk. He was invited by his friend that afternoon for a pre-graduation party.
Cesar pretended to be asleep. A few minutes later, he was surprised when Karmelo removed his blanket.
“Karmelo! It’s two in the morning damnit…gimme some sleep!”
“Wake up, you faggot,” Karmelo whispered with a slurred speech.
“WHAT?!” Cesar angrily asked.
“You know what little brother…you were the talk of the town…I mean…in the party…”
Cesar listened curiously. He felt a sudden nervousness.
“You faggot! I knew it! I knew it…my friends just confirmed it. They saw you and your friend…that geek Ryan…you kissed under a tree secretly last Don Bosco Day! Haha!”
“You’re drunk Karmelo…you don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“I’m not DRUNK! Get up faggot! Admit it…you’re a bitch!”
Cesar remained silent. He was wondering who saw them under the acacia tree. I just cried…I never kissed Ryan…never…
He heard Karmelo opening his cabinet. Seconds later the light was on. Cesar felt something thrown to him by his drunken brother.
“Recognize those?”
Cesar was horrified. Scattered on his bed were newspaper and magazine clippings of shirtless pictures of Aga Muhlach, Richard Gomez, Robin Padilla, and many others.
“I saw you masturbating with those pictures one time. I knew it…Cessie so girly…wait until Dad knows this…”
“Please don’t tell Dad.” Adrenaline rush made Cesar said the words.
“Aha…so you’re guilty? What a shame…”
“Karmelo, please, I’m begging you…don’t tell Dad…Mama knows it already. But not our father…please, I’ll do everything-”
“Everything? You sure brother…I mean, sister?”
Cesar nodded. He had no choice. His father would surely kill him when he knows one of his sons is gay.
“Okay then. How about this…I’ll zip my mouth, and you’ll be my bitch as long as Dad doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this…”
Karmelo stripped naked and revealed to anxious Cesar his engorged penis, pulsating in his horniness.
“Suck it, my pretty bitch!”
Cesar’s worst nightmare had come.
He had been silent about his brother’s blackmails and sadism. He couldn’t tell his mother. For sure, his mother would scold his brother and his brother would open the secret.
It was a bad news in the family when Karmelo didn’t pass the UPCAT. He had no choice but to enroll in some other school in Bacolod. He was accepted in West Negros College.
It was death for Cesar. Karmelo would come home to Victorias every weekend and their incest continued.
“Suck it bitch…swallow everything…”
“I just can’t fuck my girlfriend in Bacolod. It’s good I can fuck you anytime I want…”
“Let’s see if putting this cock of mine in your cute ass would taste like fuckin a pussy…”
Cesar had a taste of hell while on earth. He used to fantasize making love with the man of his dreams. But what Karmelo did made him puke even just staring at a picture of a man’s penis.
He couldn’t tell his best friend either. It was Cesar’s only secret never told to Ryan. They were already in their fourth year.
“Best friend…are you alright? Why are you walking like that? Something wrong with your hips?”
The memory of Karmelo fucking his anus the previous night brought Cesar to tears that instant.
“Shall I take you to the school clinic?” Ryan was sweet enough for Cesar to say ‘Yes’. If only I can tell you…
“NO! I’m fine…I’m just…it’s my stomach…But I’ll be fine…”
“You sure? Just tell me if it really bothers you, okay?”
Ryan’s smile while caressing his back gave Cesar a momentary bliss.
Three months later, Ryan and Cesar had to say goodbye to each other. High school days are over. Farewells to their alma mater.
“It’s not yet the end, best friend. We’ll see each other again…I’ll always pray for you.”
Ryan hugged Cesar so tight. Cesar couldn’t believe he would be saying goodbye to his best friend at last. He didn’t want to let go of his best friend hugging him.
“I’ll miss you, so much. I’ll pray for you too…thanks for…thanks for understanding…and everything…”
Cesar felt something damp touch his cheeks. It was so quick. Was it a kiss? Did he just kiss me?
“Goodbye, best friend!”
Cesar was speechless in disbelief.
“I love you…”
He was speaking to himself. Ryan was gone in the crowd.
“…As much as I love myself.”
Summer that year, Cesar felt like giving up his sanity. The world was getting heavier on his shoulders. His father forced him taking up the entrance exam for BS Biology in the University of St. La Salle.
“I’m proud of you son, passing the entrance exam. Ten years from now, there will be a doctor in the family!”
“Dad, I don’t like to be-”
“Teaching is a profession for poor people. We got money. You’re lucky unlike everyone else. You will become Cesar Benitez, M.D. That’s final.”
Cesar wanted to commit suicide.
“And before I forget, son, I already got an apartment for you and Karmelo…so that you’ll be staying together. I’ve seen the place, quite good, only a few blocks away from La Salle…”
Cesar wished he had never been born.
With me and Karmelo sharing a room once again, I’ll be his bitch forever…
Late May, Cesar decided to talk to his mother.
“Ma, I got to tell you something…it’s about Karmelo…”
Early June, Cesar left Victorias for Bacolod to begin tertiary education.
When he was in Bacolod, he proceeded to Banago Port and bought a ticket bound to Manila.
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