M.A.D. L I G A Y A

(Last of Three Parts)

Part 1

Part 2

It was hard to believe what I was seeing. His expression kept changing. The emotions on his face shifted again and again. I knew what I was seeing. I wasn’t crazy. Maybe my eyes were just tired. Maybe my mind had been filled too much with the stories my aunts used to tell about this portrait. I even thought I saw him wink when he liked what I said.

Too bad my siblings weren’t there yet. The youngest would probably scream. She was always the frightened one.

If it was true that once the mourning period ended, the soul of the dead finally moved on, then I wanted to make the most of this night. Even if it was frightening, at least I could feel that he was with me.

“Pa, thanks for pushing me to teach overseas. I should have done it a long time ago.”

It was really my father who pushed me to pursue teaching abroad. I just laughed the idea off before because I insisted I did not need to do it. I had a wonderful career as an educator here, and the pay was not bad. I was satisfied. Until I felt job burnout and the need to slay some personal demons, which made me leave the country for a while.

It was supposed to be just for a year.

But when I saw what one year of teaching overseas did for me personally and professionally, I realized my father had been right.

The liquor and my longing for my father drowned whatever fear I had left.

I raised my glass again.

“Another toast, Papa. I can drink now. I can keep up with you. My liver’s strong these days.”

I stared at the portrait again. It felt as if he were staring back.

“Pa, I didn’t bring my wife. There’s a storm coming. Kuya and our youngest will arrive tomorrow. Hay naku, Pa… those two are still the same. Life is hard for them. They did not take their studies seriously, that’s why. I help them sometimes, but it can’t always be like that. They have to find their own way.”

I raised my glass once more, then paused and looked at his portrait again, as if waiting for him to respond.

“I asked Mama to come, just this once, but she refused. But you know what, Pa? Even if she won’t admit it, she still loves you very much. She’s just too proud. I’m sure she’s praying for you right now, asking the Lord to take you to Him and not to the Devil. Haha… just kidding, Pa. If the lifting of mourning weren’t being held here, she might have come. You know how she never got along with the aunts.”

For a while, I just sat there, looking at his face, as if he were really listening.

“That’s life. Nothing we can do. I love them all… but of course, I love Mama more. She’s my mother. And they understand that. They know that in front of me, no one is allowed to speak badly about her. We’d end up fighting. She’s not perfect… but no one gets to disrespect her in front of me.”

I took another drink and looked at the portrait.

“You understand that, don’t you, Pa?”

It seemed that my father’s head in the portrait slowly lowered.

I must have been drunk.

I was seeing things again.

“It’s really a shame you and Mama separated. Maybe if you were together that day… maybe you would’ve made it to the hospital. And Ate Lea… when you started getting sick, that’s when she left you alone.”

Unbelievable, but I think my father was nodding his head.

“Wait… wait… this is getting too sad. Change topic. Ah… okay… time for a photo. Let’s have a twofie pa.”

I took out my phone, stood beside the portrait, and kept pressing the camera.

For a moment, I felt something cold resting on my shoulder.

Either it was the wind…

or it was him.

“One more toast, Papa. This bottle’s almost empty. See? Because you laughed at me that time, I practiced drinking in Japan. Whisky now, Papa. You can be proud of me.”

I glanced at his glass.

It was empty.

I frowned.

Maybe I drank it myself. Maybe I knocked it over. But the table wasn’t wet.

I couldn’t remember anymore.

I filled it again.

“But Pa… why was it always like that? You and Mama were never together at my important moments. Elementary graduation — neither of you. High school and college — only you. Graduate school — neither of you. My wedding — Mama wasn’t there again. I’m not complaining… I’m just saying.”

I knew I was drunk now. I couldn’t stop talking.

“Papa… thank you. For everything you and Mama did. Especially for putting me through college. I wouldn’t be where I am now without you two. Not bad, huh? My English. I got that from you. Especially when I’m drunk.”

I stood up and took the portrait in my hands.

“You’re the greatest father on earth, Papa. The greatest.”

I kissed the picture and set it back on the table.

“Even if you and Mama separated… you’re still the best parents in the world for me. No one can match what you did for us. I love you both. So much.”

After that, everything blurred.

My head spun.

The last thing I remembered was looking at the portrait.

The frame was there.

But his face…

was gone.

Blank.

Impossible.

I must have been too drunk. My vision must have failed.

Then I heard something from the bathroom.

A rustling sound.

Like someone urinating.

I laughed weakly.

“So that’s where you went, Papa… to the bathroom… that’s why you disappeared from the picture.”

I tried to lift my glass again.

Too heavy.

My eyelids felt heavier.

I wanted to stand up and go to the bedroom, but my body wouldn’t move.

Everything slowly went dark.

Before I completely lost consciousness, I felt cold arms rest on my shoulders…

as if someone was trying to help me stand.

Or maybe…

I only imagined it.

**********

“Marco… Marco! Wake up!”

I opened my eyes.

The room was spinning.

“Marco! Get up! It’s almost noon!”

It was Aunt Cecille.

My head hurt, but I forced myself to sit up.

“Wake up. The people for the prayers will be here soon. We still have to fix the living room.”

“Yes, Auntie…”

She looked at me and shook her head.

“There you go. Hangover again. Just like your father. Both of you are intelligent, both handsome, both smooth talkers… and both drunkards.”

She walked into the kitchen. I followed.

“Auntie… who carried me to the bed? I remember falling asleep at the table.”

“How would I know? No one came here last night. It was raining. Boyet said he might come, but he got lazy because of the weather.”

I scratched my head.

Then I looked for the portrait.

“Auntie… where’s Papa’s picture? I left it here.”

“Good Lord. It’s right there. Hanging on the wall. You were so drunk you don’t remember what you did.”

I stared at it.

“I didn’t put that back there.”

“Oh sure. Maybe the picture walked by itself. Crawled up the wall and hung itself. STOP IT, MARCO. Don’t scare me.”

She lifted two empty bottles of Chivas.

“You finished two.”

“No… I only opened one…”

She just shook her head and went to the living room.

She looked up at the portrait.

“Kuya… even with your own son, you’re still playing tricks. Make the most of it. It’s your last day here on earth. But not with me anymore, ha. With Marco only. You’ve already used up all my fear.”

 I just listened as my aunt said those.

“Wait… your smile… that’s different. You look happy today. You weren’t smiling like that yesterday. You did another miracle, didn’t you? Don’t change that smile anymore. Keep it like that. Later, you depart in peace, ha. Go up to heaven. With all the prayers we offered, you might even pass heaven. Say hello to Saint Peter for us.”

I suddenly remembered the photo on my phone.

I searched for that photo.

I looked closely.

It was true.

The smile on my father’s face in the portrait on the wall was different from the smile in the twofie that I took the previous night.