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Edge of the Fall (Part 4)
(A Short Novel)
Light greeted my waking. It hurt my eyes. I closed them again. I felt my body aching all over. When I breathed, there was pain around my ribs.
I turned to my side and opened my eyes again, slowly.
I’m still alive. I’m not in heaven or hell, not in that mountain. I’m in a hospital room.
Two needles were stuck in my hand. Those are for the IV fluids that were hanging over the bed. I had an oxygen mask on, and it made me feel uneasy. I lifted it to check if I still needed it. When I realized I could breathe comfortably without it, I decided to take it off.
My arms were covered in bruises, and I was pretty sure my body and legs were too.
When I looked toward my feet, I noticed a woman with her head resting on the bed where I lay. It seemed she was watching over me. I wondered who it could be.
I tried to sit up, but my ribs hurt a lot. Could one or two of them be broken?
My movements awoke the woman.. She stood up and looked at me.
I knew the woman. I couldn’t be mistaken. She was the woman from the mountain. Without any hesitation, she hugged me. I was surprised, especially when she started crying unabashedly. It was awkward. I didn’t know whether to push her away or hug her back.
She was the reason I got beaten. She put me in harm’s way. Should I blame her?
Her hug tightened. At that moment, I suddenly remembered my sister. She would hug me tightly and cry, the way a woman does, whenever I confronted her about her wrong decisions.
“Dangsin-i sal-a gyesim-eul gamsadeulibnida.”
She thanked God that I was still alive. Should I also thank her for having survived the beating I got from her compatriots? Or blame her for being unable to push through with my plans.
“Jeongmal mianhae. Geugeos-eun modu nae jalmos-ieossda.”
The woman apologized, admitting that what had happened was her fault.
If you think about it, who was to blame for the beating I got? Could I blame the men who hit me, thinking I was assaulting their fellow citizen and a woman? If I had stumbled upon such a scene—a woman screaming, desperately trying to escape a man holding her tightly as they wrestled on the ground—what would I have done?
But is it my fault that it all happened because I stopped the woman from jumping? Was it right for me to try to stop her from taking her own life? The questions swirl inside me like a bitter winter wind, numbing any clarity I might have had. Yet, beneath the cold, like a hesitant bud breaking through the frost, I wonder if there’s any chance for warmth—if I did the right thing or if I’ve just trapped us both in an endless winter. Because of what I did, we continue to live. But does that mean we’ll also continue to feel the pain caused by those who neglected their promise to love us?
“How stupid of me. I put you in danger.”
She could speak English.
“Okay… okay… Just wait a moment! Let go of me first. I can’t breathe.”
She broke free from the hug. To my surprise, she knelt.
“Please forgive me.”
“Wait… wait… Please stand up. Don’t do that.”
The woman didn’t move. Her knees remained glued to the floor as she held my thigh.
I tried to stand. My legs and joints were in pain, but I managed. I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently lifted her.
“I am not blaming you for what happened to me.”
She stood up and hugged me again.
“Thank you. Thank you. But I’m sorry.”
After saying that, she gently sat me back down on the bed.
“Just sit down. You’re still weak. You are badly injured.”
I heeded her advice. I sat back on the edge of the bed.
“You might want to know. The doctors said all you have are bruises and contusions. None of your bones are broken.”
She pulled a chair and sat right in front of me. I couldn’t help but notice how comfortable she seemed doing all those things, as if we had known each other for a long time.
“By the way, I’m Su Jin.”
“Oh, and I’m…”
“Joseph! You’re Joseph. You’re from the Philippines. I’m sorry. I opened your wallet. I had to get information about you when I brought you here.”
I paused for a moment.
“Well, I think you had no choice but to do that. It’s okay.”
She took my cell phone and wallet from her bag and handed them to me.
“Here. Oh… I have your other personal belongings in my car.”
“Thanks. By the way, how long have I been here?”
“This is the second night.”
“How were you able to bring me to this hospital… from the mountain?”
“Those men helped me. I explained to them what happened. They’re very sorry. They were drunk at that time.”
Then I remember how I almost died in the hands of those men.
Ah, by the way, they’re paying for your hospitalization. They’re hoping you would not sue them and settle things amicably.”
Should I file a lawsuit? It doesn’t seem like it. If I were in their position, I might have done the same. It’s enough that they helped bring me to the hospital.
“I told them that they should pay you also for damages, especially if you decide not to work for some time because of what happened. They agreed. I’ll call them later so they can come and talk to you.”
It’s nice to think that she seems to have arranged everything. And she speaks English well. That’s not common among them. Unlike most of her countrymen, she must have graduated from university overseas or studied English seriously.
“How come you can speak English so well?”
“I studied in the US for almost 10 years. I just completed my Master’s there recently.”
That explains it.
“I was also able to contact your family in the Philippines.”
“Really? How?”
“Through your embassy. Your sister is coming to pick you up. She said you need to go home and take a break. By the way, Joseph…”
“Yeah?”
Su Jin hesitated. She seemed to want to say something, but was shy about it.
“Ah… Your sister told me your story.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know what happened.”
I didn’t know whether to be upset or not. My sister was so nosy.
“Is that so?”
She nodded and said, “We’re on the same boat.”
When I heard that, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Su Jin laughed too. I don’t know why remembering what Jinky and my brother did to me didn’t bring any more bitterness.
Then she added, “They broke our hearts.”
I nodded, then said, “You wouldn’t believe this.”
“What?” Su Jin asked.
“I was on that mountain that afternoon to commit suicide.”
Su Jin froze.
“You want me to believe that!”
“But that’s the truth. Believe it or not.”
“Stop it, Joseph! I don’t believe you. You didn’t go there to die. You were there to save me. And you did.”
I just kept silent and listened to what she said. Who would believe that I went there to commit suicide? But instead of death, I found a new lease of life. But who was there for whom? Me for her or her for me. Perhaps we were there for each other. We were there to put an end to the harsh winter we experienced. We provided each other a spring of hope.
She took my hand. Her palms were so soft. She smiled and looked at me. Then, I realized how beautiful and sweet her face was, like the first bloom of spring pushing through the stubborn frost.
“”I owe you my life. You saved me. You are a very good man.”
I gently squeezed her hands in response, not knowing what to say. After all, was she the only one saved when I stopped her from jumping? I got saved as well.
“Thank you, too, Su Jin.”
She nodded and smiled and slowly bowed her head.
I don’t believe in fate. Everything that happens in a person’s life is the product of their collective decisions. But before I established my own belief system, informed by the things I learned and experienced, as well as the ideas I read and decided to embrace, my father told me when I was a boy that there are times when God intervenes in human affairs. Subconsciously, I sometimes revert to what my father said, rather than clinging to my new belief about fate. Additionally, he stated that everything happens for a reason.
So, how should I put it? Was it the will of God that I climbed the mountain that day to prevent Su Jin from jumping? But who prevented whom from jumping? It’s hard to believe that God would will Jinky and my brother to commit that treachery against me so that I would go to the mountain and eventually meet Su Jin. I think I met her on the mountain because we both decided to go there for personal reasons. But whatever it may be, it’s no longer important.
“By the way, aren’t you hungry?” That was Sujin breaking the silence as she let go of my hands.
“I brought some food.” She pointed to the table.
“Yeah, actually, I’m starving. Is there coffee available?”
“I’m afraid not, but there’s a café nearby. I’ll buy us coffee. What do you want?”
“Is it okay?”
“Of course!”
“Can you get me a caramel macchiato, please?”
“Sure! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Wait!” I opened my wallet.
“No please. It’s on me.”
Before she left the room, Su Jin looked back at me. She smiled again.
“Don’t go anywhere, okay? Don’t run away from me.”
I laughed at what she said. Su Jin had a sense of humor.
I thought about her words before she left. It was funny, but honestly, I’d feel regret and sadness if she didn’t come back. It felt like she was filling some gap in my life at that moment. Did she feel the same way?
After a while, the door opened.
“Oh, you’re still here. I am glad you didn’t try to escape.” She said as she handed me the coffee.
“You’re funny.”
“Am I?”
She took a piece of bread from the table and gave it to me.
“By the way, your sister invited me to visit the Philippines. I’d like to. May I go with you and your sister? PLEASE. I need a little break.”
I looked at her and smiled.
“Chincha?”
I asked if she was serious. She looked like she was.
“Ne!.. Boo ta kam ni da!”
She retook my hands. She squeezed them tightly. It felt like she was warning me that if I disagreed, she’d twist my hands.
When I nodded, I saw how her face lit up with happiness.
“Yes! Gomabseubnida!”
Su Jin thanked me, and in her joy, she hugged me again. I hugged her back and rested my head on her shoulder. She allowed it. In that moment, the warmth of her embrace felt like the first rays of spring breaking through my heart’s long, harsh winter, offering a glimpse of renewal I hadn’t dared to hope for.
As for my mother, elder brother, and Jinky, I think I would eventually learn to forgive and forget, like the last snow of winter thawing and finally giving way to the soft bloom of spring.
EVERLASTING (Part 5)
(Short Story / Last of 5 Parts)
I felt tremendously excited and a little bit worried for my grandmother. I cannot be mistaken. The old man who gave the card was her adorer. I wished that the old man decided to stay longer. I opened the gate. Grandma got out first.
“Where is he… where?” asked my grandmother. “My God! Why didn’t you give this to me immediately.” I scanned the part of the road where I saw the car parked. It was no longer there. In the whole neighborhood, I searched, my Grandma’s adorer was nowhere to be found.
When I returned, my grandmother stood in front of the newly-built bungalow where the old man parked his car earlier. Needless to say any word, both Grandma and I were despondent. My sadness emanated from the failed expectation that I would meet the noblest lover I have known.
The source of my Grandma’s sorrow was different, I was sure. Now, I no longer need to ask if Grandma loved her adorer. Her actions at that time betrayed her – her being so disconsolate for failing to finally see her adorer after more than four decades revealed how she truly feels for him.
We exchanged no words until we reached her room. I decided to stay with my grandmother. She had laid on the bed while I went back to continue reading Peeker’s blogs. My Grandma’s eyes were closed. I watched her intently. Even in old age, she remained elegantly beautiful, notwithstanding all those wrinkles. No wonder why her adorer fell madly in love. Later on, I noticed some tears falling from her closed eyes. At that instance, all the more that it became clear to me how she felt about her adorer.
After a few minutes, a notification about a new blog entry appeared on the laptop’s screen. After 10 years, Peeker blogged again for Charming.
“Grandma, wake up. Peeker has a new post for you!” There was no reaction from Grandma. She seemed disinterested. “Did you hear that grandma, a new post from Peeker!”
It took a while before Grandma reacted and said with her eyes still closed, “Would you like to read it aloud for me?”
“My pleasure!” I answered. With tremendous excitement, I opened the blog entry and started reading aloud.
—–
My Ever dearest Charming,
“Happy 60th birthday… Rest assured that I never stopped thinking about you. God knows I never stopped loving you.
Now I can tell you. I worked in the Middle East only for 5 years. I returned to our country after that, but I decided never to bother you. I made it appear that I stayed for good in the Middle East. Please forgive me for that.
I was there when you graduated from college and in graduate school. You just did not see me. I was there during your 30th, 40th, and 50th birthday celebrations. I was there each time that I wanted to see you. Each time I would only be watching clandestinely from a distance and through the tinted glasses of my car. How lucky I would be to see you daintily tending the flowers in your garden as my car rolled by. You know so well that just seeing you would give me immeasurable joy. But why do you seem sad whenever I see you alone in the garden?
I almost died in jealousy each time I passed by and witnessed on your terrace how gently your husband would kiss you on your cheeks and lips.
I was there also when you got married at the age of 25. You were the prettiest bride that I have ever seen. That was the most ironic moment in my life. While you were tying the knots, mine was unknotted, for it was that day when the court approved the annulment of marriage that my wife filed. I never got married again, for I vowed you would be the last woman I would love.
Why did I stop blogging for the past 10 years? Your husband got sick, and I don’t want to burden you more. I wanted you to provide him with undivided attention. When he died, I tried to respect your bereavement. I may have stopped blogging, but I never stopped tirelessly watching you from afar.
I own the bungalow nearby. I was watching when you and a young gentleman came out of the gate of your house several minutes ago. But I don’t know why until now I am afraid to face you. Perhaps I need an answer to a question I should have asked you before we parted that day.”
—–
Upon hearing that portion, my Grandma opened her eyes and excitedly exclaimed, “What did he say again?”
“Grandma, he was in his house when we searched for him. He saw us.” I retorted.
“Oh, that melodramatic fool,” my Grandma said in exasperation.
—–
“I was the happiest person on earth when I saw you. I would like to believe that you were looking for me and wanted to see me. I hope I am not so presumptuous, but under the bright light post, I saw in your face how much you wanted to see me. When you could not locate me, I saw how sad you were, the same sadness that I saw during our first and only date… it was a picnic we had then… I told you that I would be leaving for the Middle East.
Now I have one request to make. I will now allow you to comment on this post. Please answer my questions.
Do you love me? Please allow me to live the last days of my life with you.
—–
My grandmother obliged. She requested me to encode her reply to her adorer’s questions.
—–
If only you tried to show up before I got married, things would have been different. Right from the start, you have stolen my heart. You’re a thief. But I was so young and so afraid. I didn’t know what to do. I cried when you left. I cried a river. That river drowned me for a long time. I wanted to stop you from going, but I don’t know if you would listen. I was waiting for you to kiss me, embrace me, and do whatever you wanted to do to me. But you never did.
I cried every time I read your blogs. And as the days, weeks, months, and years passed, I felt how much my love for you had grown stronger.
If only you appeared in the church during my wedding, I would have ran to you and asked you to bring me anywhere you wanted. But you never did. I want to think that you’re a coward. I did not ask you to sacrifice to give me away to someone else because you always wanted to toe the line of propriety and morality. I don’t know if I would consider that sacrifice on your part or if it was cowardice. It hurt that you did not try to express your feelings for me. I would have preferred to be ridiculed by my friends and family…by society…than lose you.
You are right. I was not happy all those years because I kept waiting for you. My husband knew about you, about my feelings for you. We quarreled many times because he resented that I could not forget you until he accepted that you would always be part of me.
But I never told him about your blogs. Your blogs kept me afloat, but I preferred seeing you in flesh and blood. I waited for you to show up anytime and take me away, but you never did. My husband knows that anytime you appear, he may lose me. I hate to admit it, and may our God forgive me for this… there were nights I shared the bed with my husband, but I imagined you.
And here you are now, finally.
How cruel of you not to have blogged for the past 10 years. It was during those years that I needed you most. Not just that. You doubled my pain. For not blogging, you kept me drowned in anxiety. I did not know what happened to you. I thought you finally got tired of loving me. I thought you were sick. I thought you were dead.
How cruel of you not to have just shown up, kissed, and embraced me when I left the house earlier.
I want to see you in my garden tomorrow. If you don’t show up, forget about me.
—–
“Are you happy now?” Grandma asked. “Now you know the answers to all your questions.”
“What will you do when you see him tomorrow, Grandma?”
“I will slap that melodramatic old man!”
“Then?”
“I will embrace and kiss him! I will demand that he marries me.”
(The End)
EVERLASTING (Part 4)
(Short Story / 4th of 5 Parts)
Then I noticed that sadness gradually disappeared in the landscape of Peeker’s next blogs as weeks passed after he met Grandma.
—–
“There’s no denying that I have fallen in love with you. But it is also pointless to expect reciprocity from you. I could only dream; anyone can dream that you would love me in return. I could only wish, for there’s no limit to wishful thinking, that you should have come into my life when I had no moral restrictions.
While I ceased uselessly thrusting aside my feelings for you to God, I fervently prayed (and always pray for you) that He may keep my intentions for you pure. After that, I began noticing the good things you have done for me, something that I did not see when trying to shrug off what I felt for you. Only then did I realize how wonderful my life was turning since you came into my life? You have served as a tremendous inspiration.
With you around, I began to view life positively again. I became more passionate and creative with you everywhere in my work.”
I have promised never to let you know how I really felt for you, for I am afraid that you may no longer treat me the way you did and that even our friendship may be extinguished. But it was a risk that I had to take. I decided I must tell you, not because I wanted you to reciprocate, but I just want you to know, before I go and may never see you again, how endeared to me you have become.
—–
“So, grandma, before that 3-month program ended, did he make the big revelation?” I asked.
My grandma looked at me, paused for a while, then said, “Actually, during the last month of the program, he told me about someone serving as his inspiration, a very young woman. Then, later on, he admitted to having fallen in love with her. But no matter how pushy I was in asking him when we talk or exchange text messages to divulge her identity, he would not.”
I could sense the excitement in how Grandma relived the past. Then she continued, “During our last session for the program, he asked if we could talk that weekend in a quiet place, just the two of us. I acceded for a gentleman like him I know could be trusted. We had a picnic in a park on the outskirts of the next town. He was undeniably happy. I had never seen him so happy. I have never seen him smile genuinely or laugh so vigorously. Before, he may smile, but his eyes always radiate sadness.”
“We talked about many things but intentionally avoided touching on serious matters. He informed me that he had resigned from the university where he was teaching. After two months, he would be leaving for the Middle East, where he accepted an invitation to head the university’s English Department there.
Honestly, I became sad and momentarily speechless upon hearing that. I didn’t understand why. But I didn’t like him to notice it. I wanted to tell him not to leave the country, but I chose not to. I really did not like him to leave. I don’t know why. We spent almost the whole day in that park.”
Then I asked Grandma how his adorer told him about his feelings.
“He did not tell me anything about that young woman he fell in love with and drew so much inspiration from. Before we parted that day, though, he gave me the note I had shown you once. He requested that I open it when I got home. Which I did.”
“Ahh, I remember that card, Grandma,” I said, “But you did not allow me to read the short message it contains. Please allow me to read the note now. Please…”
Miraculously, Grandma nodded and gave me the note that she was just hiding in her purse.
“I know you will come looking for this note when I told you about this. So, I made sure you won’t find it. But here! You can see it now!” my grandma said with a taunting smile.
Finally, I got to see it. The note reads, “Falling in love with you was the most wonderful thing in my life. I only regret that it is a love that was never meant to be. Leaving was painful, but it was the best thing I must do. I have never asked anything from you in return except this one… please read my blogs whenever you have time.”
As planned, Grandma’s adorer left for the Middle East after two months. But amazingly, he continued to write blog entries for her…
—–
“I was so happy on the eve of my departure because you allowed me to call you. We chatted for almost a couple of hours. Then playfully that I asked, “Why were you born too late?”… you answered, “And why were you born too soon?” We laughed at those oft-repeated lines in a movie.
Then I asked how you felt when you learned that that young woman with whom I fell crazily in love was you. You said you didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t even know what to say at that moment. Upon hearing that, I wanted to think you are naïve, but who am I to judge you. Perhaps I was the one so naïve, putting an emotional burden on someone so young like you. I didn’t bother to push you further. Later you said you were so surprised that a person of my stature would be blinded by someone just like you that you wanted to think it was just one of those jokes I tried to play on you. I offered no explanation for that occurrence in my life – falling in love with you – was something I could not explain. It just came spontaneously. JOKE? It could be, but it is a joke that I did not play on you, but a joke that fate played on me.
Before my plane flew, I sent you several text messages. Unabashedly, I told you how much I love you. And, of course, you know what you said in return.”
—–
“Grandma, what did you tell him in response?
“I admitted that he has become a part of my life, very much a part of my life. I told him how I wished I could love him in return.”
My grandma momentarily stopped. “Hey grandma, what? What else did you tell your adorer?”
A moment of silence ensued. Grandma stared and smiled at me and answered hesitatingly, “I… I was not sure… I was too young…too confused. I didn’t know what more to say then.”
I was so disappointed with Grandma’s response. I would like to believe what Peeker said that Grandma is naïve, but who am I also to pass judgment on her.
—–
“Goodbye, Charming! The greatest pleasure that I have in my life is knowing you. Certainly, you will remain forever in my heart and mind. I will be praying for your good future. May you have a great family. As I wrote in the note I gave you after our picnic… please read my blogs whenever you have time.”
—–
How tirelessly that Peeker expressed his eternal adoration for Grandma. Her feelings for Charming seemed to have not relented through the years. He never got tired of blogging for Grandma – telling her about events in his life – asking her for prayers for his problems and difficulties – detailing his pains and grief – expressing his unfathomable affection to her. That went on and on through the years.
“Grandma, did you regularly read your adorer’s blog?” I asked.
Grandma nodded and said, “Of course, weekly, sometimes fortnightly, there were times I did it daily. I did it in secrecy, always in the wee hours of the morning when nobody would notice. But he discouraged me from giving reactions to his blogs, which I obediently followed.”
Asking Grandma again how she felt about Peeker would just be a practice in futility, for, as always, she would give a vague answer. But regularly reading his blog would mean that, at least to Grandma, her adorer is someone very special, or it could be more than that.
At 3:00 A.M., I decided to allow Grandma to rest. My thirst for information about her adorer was more than quenched. She promised to give me access to Peeker’s blogs anytime I wanted.
Then I remember the old man and the birthday card. Before leaving Grandma’s room, I gave her the said card.
” By the way, Grandma, somebody wants you to have this.” She read the card as I head out.
“Wait!” She said, “Who gave you this? Where’s he?” I have not seen Grandma so excited.
“An old man in a car parked by the roadside before I came here. I wonder if he’s still there. Why?”
To my amazement, Grandma got a jacket and scurried downstairs while wearing it. I followed her immediately.
EVERLASTING (Part3)
(Short Story / 3rd of 5 Parts)
He admitted being so stupid for feeling how he felt because my grandmother was so young at that time, almost half his age. He admitted to being inappropriate because he was already married then.
“Ahh, those were why you did not love him in return, you were half his age, and he’s married?” Right Grandma? I inquired.
“Just keep on reading, will you!” was Grandma’s response.
I expected she would finally tell me directly how she felt about her adorer. It was again a futile attempt. I just continued reading.
—–
“I have laughed off Francis Bacon’s thesis about love. He said that love is similar to the stage. It is filled with tragedy, comedy, mischief, and fury. I thought it was a shallow analogy. But now here I am, sounding like an actor in a play delivering a soliloquy. And I am not sure when this will end… when I end talking to myself. “
“This is a comedy. I made myself my own laughingstock. And I am almost certain you are laughing now at my stupidity.”
—–
I paused reading again and asked my grandma, “Did you consider all these kinds of stuff stupidity, grandma?”
“Never! Why should I?” was her curt reply.
When I continued, I suddenly laughed (and my grandma was amused) when I read that portion of the adorer’s blog where he admitted he was crazy thinking of grandma almost every moment. The following lines are similar to the content of my video message to a pretty classmate I was wooing at that time. The next were the words I told that lady, “I think of you almost every moment…before sleeping at night, I would think of you. I would see you in my dreams, and when I woke up, the image of your pretty smiling face would greet me. You seemed to have established omnipresence in my consciousness. Your image is present in the books I read, in the movies I watch, in the sky, in the trees, EVERYWHERE!
Then I continued reading the blogs…
—–
” I have disagreed with Bacon when he posited that ‘it is impossible to love and to be wise.’ It is equivalent to saying that love makes a person crazy. I disagreed, but here I am swirling around my own disagreement.”
“Funny, but I considered kinds of stuff like these childish. I hate being dramatic. But it’s exactly what I have become.”
“What have you done to me? Most of my working hours were spent daydreaming about you. The first time that something like this happened to me. I never paid so much attention to a lady, and never had I almost begged to be given attention in return. There were women I dated who were as pretty and charming as you are but more sophisticated and schooled. But none of them charmed me the way you did. None of those beautiful and successful women made me feel and act so strangely this way. It was only you – a youngster – someone who has yet to prove her worth. You rendered my training in Philosophy worthless, for in matters about you, I have become illogical.”
“Yeah, I hate to admit it, but what happened is plain stupidity. This should not be, but I am so helpless. People at a certain stage in their lives commit stupid acts and say stupid things they may regret. Is this my turn?”
—–
“Gosh, Grandma, are you sure you are not a witch? I would like to think that you gave this man some potion.”
My grandma just gave me a smile and a loving nudge on my nape in response. “I would say that he had really gone crazy over you. How did he cope? I hope that your most ardent adorer did nothing stupid.”
Grandma smiled and said, “He is a decent man! He did nothing wrong! I did not know about his feelings, his predicaments, or the pain I caused him. He kept those to himself for a long time! Everything seemed normal when we talked personally, on the phone, or exchanged text messages! Okay, just read on.”
Read on. I did. I passed by entries that vividly elucidated the man’s emotional struggles, the predicament I hoped I would never be able to undergo.
—–
“That night, I went to the riverbank where I would have my reflections every time I would be emotionally burdened. Falling in love was supposed to be a wonderful feeling, but why it has become an emotional struggle for me. It has brought me more sadness than joy.
No, the sadness was not a product of guilt for falling in love with another woman when I had already tied the knot with another one. Not even for falling in love with someone so young. The moral purists may disagree, but falling in love is never wrong. Falling in love per se is not a sin. The subsequent acts committed to pursuing the feeling would determine whether it’s sinful. Ahh, I am clearly trying to justify my stupidity.”
—–
Falling in love is a beautiful experience, but the adorer’s seemingly hopeless struggle to shrug off the feeling prevents him from experiencing the joy of falling in love. He said that he tried so hard to suppress the emotion. But to no avail. The adorer admitted having his ways with women. He knew how to make women fall in love but never tried any trick on my grandmother.
The adorer wished that he could circumvent the existing moral standards so he would not suffer from his ethical dilemma or that he could have been born in a culture that would not give him such prohibitions.
—–
“I know I can love you but never have you. I can love you, for nobody has the right to prevent me from feeling what I have felt for you. As hard as I did, I could not restrain my heart from falling in love with you.
But I can never have you for obvious reasons. That I needed to accept wholeheartedly my love for you is a love that was never meant to be.
It was also pride, not guilt, preventing me from experiencing the joy of falling in love. I found it hard to accept that a young woman like you could put me on an emotional leash. But that also is a reality I have to accept. I gladly put in your hands that emotional leash. Make me happy, make me sad. Do as you wish!
Could this be my karma? I used to be the one who held the handle of the emotional leash.”
—–
I sympathized deeply with the man for all the emotional struggles he underwent because of his love for Grandma. What could be more painful than finally finding true love in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and under the wrong circumstances? What a crazy fate! This stuff, I thought, I would only read in stories and watch in movies.
In one blog entry, he mentioned how sad he became one night when he heard the song “Please Don’t Ask Me.” I sympathized so profoundly when he said that the line in the song that hit him the hardest was… “It only hurts the more I pretend that we could ever be more than friends.”
Several other blog entries dealt with how wholeheartedly my grandma’s adorer accepted the realities that confronted him – the truth that only a youngster like my grandma then would drive him nuts – the reality that he could love my grandma, but he could never have her – the reality that they could never be more than friends.
Then I noticed that sadness gradually disappeared in the landscape of Peeker’s next blogs as weeks passed after he met Grandma.
EVERLASTING (Part 1)
(Short Story / 1st of 5 Parts)
It was halfway through the century, my grandma’s 60th birthday. My parents were making sure that it would be a very memorable celebration. The services of a caterer and an event coordinator were acquired to ensure that the nitty-gritty details of the affair would be taken care of.
Our family compound was bustling with so much activity. People were all over. Most were in our sprawling front yard pitching tents, positioning tables and chairs, and decorating a makeshift stage. A few were in the lounge and the terrace for curtains and decorations, while others were in the kitchen cooking. In the backyard, the butchers worked on pig and cow carcasses, making the place messy and smelly. Thanks for the pig being roasted in an adjacent vacant lot. Its delectable aroma countered the nauseating smell of blood and uncooked meat.
It was not, however, with the big celebration that I was excited about but rather with my grandma’s promise that she would show me the blogs posted by one of the many men who fell crazy for her when she was still young. How did blogs look like when my grandma was still young? But more than that was the curiosity developed by my grandma’s constant mention of the man who she never thought would profess so much affection for her, more than the appreciation showered to her by anyone. But whenever I would ask if she also loved the man, my grandma would only smile but refuse to answer. No matter how adamant I would be in pressing for an answer, she would just stare at me and smile. And when I asked why she did not marry the man, she retorted, “Better if you just read later what he wrote for me in his blogs!” How frustrated I would be if she stated the same line for whatever questions I asked about her mysterious adorer.
She told me about the man and his blogs five years ago, after my grandpa died. Grandma said that Grandpa did not know about it. And since then, my curiosity about the man and his blogs has grown enormously. My grandma promised to finally show me what her mysterious adorer wrote about her in his blogs only when she turned 60, and that was that night. Five years of waiting would be over.
Like most blogs, the adorer’s blogs were purely personal, not interconnected or socially networked in the blogosphere. Those blogs were even classified as “private”; thus, they could not be read by anyone but the blogger himself. That was according to my grandma. But before that man left to pursue a career overseas, so my grandma could access his blogs, he left her a note containing the blog’s account name, the corresponding password, and a short message. Grandma kept that note carefully. She mounted it on a cardboard and carefully wrapped it with a plastic cover. She gave me a glimpse of it after my grandpa’s death but did not allow me to read the message. I tried to sneak into her room several times and wanted to find it, but Grandma was so clever. She kept it so tightly that, presumably, even my grandfather did not see it.
Nothing seemed to interest me that night, but when Grandma finally revealed everything to me. Not even the seemingly endless stream of food and drinks and the presence of relatives and friends would distract me from wanting to know more about my grandma’s adorer. I wished the celebration would be finished early, if not abruptly ended.
Anxiously that I waited until the last of the visitors went out. It was almost midnight when the caterers left, hauling their materials and equipment with them. Even my dead-tired parents proceeded to the bedroom and took their well-deserved rest.
My most awaited moment came. I proceeded to the gate, but an old car stopped before I could close it. That old car looked familiar, for many times that I have seen it in the past. It was a Mercedes Benz car. It would always roll off slowly whenever it passed by our house. It was for the first time that it made a stop. It was my intention not to mind whoever was in the car, fearing that the one driving may be a visitor who would require the attention of my grandma, thereby unnecessarily prolonging my agony of waiting for the realization of grandma’s promise.
To my surprise, the driver disembarked and walked towards the gate. I tried to walk away, pretending not to have seen him. But much to my chagrin, he called me out.
“Hey, young man. May I have a moment with you?”
With a heavy heart, I approached him. The driver was an old man. It’s hard to determine his age. I wasn’t good at that, but I think he’s older than my grandmother. However, he looked trim and healthy. His shoulders were broad, and his biceps and chest muscles were well-defined. His physique suggests that he could have worked out regularly when he was young, or he might still be doing it. I have been seeing a lot of senior citizens in the gym where I go once in a while.
“Good evening, hijo,” he said, “please give this to your grandma. My apologies for the bother!”
“No worries, sir! You are welcome! I replied.” It was an old-fashioned birthday card that the old man handed me. I didn’t realize that such stuff still exists.
“Thank you. Good night!” said the old man. He gave me a tap on the shoulder, went back to his car then rolled off slowly. As I closed the gate, I noticed the car parked on a nearby roadside under a bright light post in front of a newly-built bungalow.
When finally, nothing stood between me and the fulfillment of my grandma’s promise, excitedly that I searched for her. Grandma was nowhere to be found, not in the garden or the living room. I suspected she could be in her bedroom dozing off already, for indeed, it was a tiring birthday celebration she had had.
Hindi Nga Ba Ukol? (7)
(Last of 7 parts)
“Okay… okay… I feel like… I feel like…”
“Feel what?” Ang tanong ni Kath.
“I feel like doing a selfie.”
Natahimik kami pareho ni Kath. Kung nasa tabi ko lang sana siya. Gusto ko siyang yakapin, halikan… angkinin.
Napansin kong hinawakan ni Kath ang kanyang dibdib. Dahan-dahan niya itong hinimas.
“Marco… Marco… what is this that I am feeling? Shit!”
“Kath… sando mo… please take it off.”
“Marco… please… don’t make me do this. Let’s stop.”
“Please Kath…”
“Shit… Marco… bakit ang hirap mong tanggihan.”
Mula sa study table ay binitbit ni Kath ang kanyang laptop at nagpunta sa kanyang kama. Sumandal siya sa headboard ng kama at sa harapan niya’y nakalapag ang laptop.
I did the same. Nagpunta rin ako sa aking kama’t sumandal sa headboard. Nasa harapan ko rin ang gamit kong laptop.
Halos sabay kaming naghubad ni Kath… pantaas… pambaba… panloob.
“Kath… baby…”
“Marcooo…”
**********
Maraming beses naming ginawa iyon. Mula noon ay sa ganoon namin tinatapos ang aming pag-uusap halos tuwing gabing may video calls kami. Parehong sa kama na kami nakapuwesto tuwing nag-uusap.
Dumating ang pagkakataon na hindi na sapat sa akin na ganoon lang kami ni Kath. Gusto kong umuwi muna sa Pilipinas upang makasama ko siya.
Isang gabi…
“Marco… ano ba talaga ang plano mo sa akin… sa atin…”
Matagal ko ring hinintay ang pagkakataong iyon… na magtanong si Kath tungkol sa kung ano ang mga gusto kong gawin para sa aming dalawa.
“Kath… may gusto lang akong itanong bago ko sabihin sa iyo ang mga plano ko.”
“Go ahead… What is it?”
“Who do you love more… me or Jay?”
“Ridiculous!!!”
“Ang alin?” Ang tanong ko kay Kath.
“That’s a ridiculous question Marco.”
“Why!?”
“Why!!??… Are you playing dumb or are you really dumb Marco.”
Nasorpresa ako sa mga sinabing iyon ni Kath.
“Do you recall Marco when we talked before you left for Korea?”
Tumango na lang ako bilang tugon.
“I and Jay had a fight… right?”
Tumango ulit ako.
“…a fight that almost led to our separation.”
“Kath… please cut the story short. Why are you telling me about that.”
“Ha… Because you were the reason we fought you stupid shit.”
I couldn’t believe what I heard. Hinayaan ko na lang siyang magsalita.
“Jay knows everything about us at that time. I told him. He was so jealous. He was mad. Iyan din ang tinanong niya sa akin. Sino ang mas mahal ko siya o ikaw. I had to be honest with my answer. I told him it’s you. Nagalit siya. Naghamon ng hiwalayan. That’s why I talked to you that day. I wanted to tell you about it.”
Natandaan ko lahat ng iyon.
“But what did you tell me ha… napakagago mo Marco… You we’re so indifferent that day. I was expecting that you would be warm and would give me a hint that your feelings were still there. Pero ano ginawa mo? You told me na pag-usapan namin ni Jay ng mabuti ang problema namin and it’s best for us to reconcile. Itinaboy mo ako papunta sa kanya.”
Nakakagulat. Hindi ko akalaing ganoon. Had I known ay maaaring hindi na ako tumuloy ng pagpunta ng Korea at dinala ko na lang sana si Kath kung saang lupalop ng mundo man kami mapadpad.
“So. What did I do? The moment na nag-sorry si Jay at nangakong buburahin ka niya sa isip ko eh I grabbed the opportunity. Pero ano? Nabura ka ba niya sa isip ko? Hindi… di ba? Hindi ka naman siguro tanga para ipaliwanag ko pa kung bakit ko sinabing hindi ka niya nabura sa isip ko.”
Hindi pa rin ako nagsalita. Nakinig na lang ako kay Kath.
“Sa halip na siya ang kausap ko sa mga ganitong pagkakataon, iton disoras na ito ng gabi, eh pinili kong ikaw ang kausapin. I never miss him. Not a bit. Pero ikaw… hindi kasya ang halos magdamag na magka-chat tayo. Minsan kahit sa araw tinatawagan kita. I want to see you all the time. Tapos ngayon tatanungin mo ako kung sino ang mas mahal ko… ikaw o siya? Stupid!!! Ikaw kaya ang sumagot ng tanong mong iyan. Sige Marco. Answer your own question. Who do I love more… you or Jay?”
“So… sorry Kath…”
“Don’t ‘sorry’ me Marco! Answer your own question!!!”
“Okay… Okay Kath. It’s clear to me. Mas mahal mo ako.”
“Gago… Ikaw lang ang mahal ko… I can’t say if I really love Jay. I just needed him. I needed somebody because you were not there.”
Nagsimulang umiyak si Kath.
“Tahimik na ako Marco. Bakit ba kasi nagparamdam ka pa ulit. Tanggap ko na hindi tayo ukol. Tanggap ko na eh. Pinapagaralan ko nang mahalin si Jay. Pero pumasok ka nanaman sa eksena.”
Kath stopped talking. She just kept sobbing. Ako naman ang nagsalita.
“Sino nga ba ang nakakaalam talaga at makakapagsabi kung ukol ba tayo sa isa’t isa o hindi? Kath… tayo ang magdedesisyon if we’re meant for each other or not.”
Nakayuko si Kath. Patuloy lang sa pag-iyak.
“Iiwanan ko si Anna. Makikipaghiwalay na ako sa kanya. Gusto ko magsama na tayo.”
Muling humarap sa webcam si Kath. Pinunasan ang kanyang luha at suminga ng bahagya.
“Ikaw… kaya mo bang iwanan si Jay?” Tanong ko sa kanya.
“Seryoso ka Marco?”
“Bakit? Nagbibiruan lang ba tayo dito? Is everything between us just a joke?”
“Paano ang mga anak ko?”
“Tatanggapin ko sila. Aariing ko bilang mga tunay na anak.”
Maraming bagay kaming pinagusuapan ni Kath. Sinabi ko sa kanya ang mga bagay na dapat naming gawin bago kami tuluyang makipaghiwalay sa aming mga asawa. Sinabi ko sa kanya na handa na ako. Hinihintay ko na lang ang kanyang magiging desisyon.
“Give me time Marco… give me time to think. Nalilito ako, Naguguluhan. I really don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”
“Kath… baby… I will give you all the time you need to think. I have made up my mind a long time ago. The ball is in your court. Ikaw ang magpapasiya kung ukol ”
“Okay… Marco… it’s goodnight for now. Masakit ang ulo ko. I want to rest.”
Pinagbigyan ko ang kahilingan ni Kath.
“By the way, tomorrow’s Saturday… wala muna tayong video call. I need to go to Church early on Sunday. We have a very important activity.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday night then.”
“I’m not sure Marco. Let’s see.”
Hindi ako sigurado kung iiwanan ni Kath si Jay. Alam kong mahal niya ako pero maraming bagay siyang dapat i-consider bago siya mag-decide na sumama sa akin.
Maraming haharaping complications si Kath. Isa na doon ay ang posibleng iskandalo na haharapin namin kapag nalaman ni Jay o ni Anna ang tungkol sa amin. Kaya sinabi ko sa kanya na we would be keeping our relationship secret for some time kahit humiwalay na kami sa aming mga asawa. Isyu rin ang tungkol sa kanilang mga anak. Kapag nalaman ni Jay later na dahil sa akin kaya nakipaghiwalay sa kanya si Kath ay siguradong kapag hindi babawiin ang mga anak nila ay pagbabawalan ang mga itong makita ang kanilang ina. Kung tutuusin ay mas maraming isasakripisyo si Kath kaysa akin kung magdesisyon siyang sumama sa akin.
Pero sa tingin ko, lahat ng mga isyung naturan ay kayang harapin ni Kath alang-alang sa akin. Gagawin niya ang mga sakripisyong iyon para sa akin. Ganoon ako ka-confident. Confident rin ako na kung mamimili lang siya between me ang Jay ay ako ang pipilian niya.
Kaya lang, may involved na third party. Alam kong hindi lang si Jay ang karibal ko kay Kath. May kaagaw ako.
**********
Dumating ang Linggo ng gabi…
Si Kath na mismo ang tumawag. Parang mugto ang mga mata niya.
Sa study table nakalagay ang laptop na gamit ni Kath… hindi na sa kama. Ako’y sa kama pa rin nakapuwesto.
“How are you?” Ang panimula ko.
Inilapit ni Kath ang kanyang mukha sa direksyong ng webcam na gamit niya.
“I’m not okay Marco… not okay.”
“May… may I know why.”
Umiling-iling si Kath bago nagsalita.
“Sapol na sapol nanaman ako sa preaching ni pastor kanina.”
Nagsimula nanamang umiyak si Kath. Wala akong puwedeng sabihin na maaaring magpagaan ng kalooban niya. Nakinig lang nanaman ako sa kanya.
“Hindi lang kanina Marco na ganoon. Tuwing aattend ako ng midweek o Sunday service mula nang magsimula tayong to be seriously get involved with another, eh pakiramdam ko lagi ang pinatatamaan ng kung sino man ang naka-assign na mag-preach.”
Kung tutuusin, hindi si Jay ang matinding karibal ko kundi ang pananampalataya ni Kath sa Panginoon.
“Marco, are you not bothered by what we are doing?”
Hindi man ako pala-simba eh I believe in Him. Paano ko ba sasabihin kay Kath na ako man ay may struggles din katulad ng sa kanya. But I keep asking Him for forgiveness and understanding. Para kasing itinapon ko na sa basurahan ang aking konsensya. Wala na akong gustong mangyari kung hindi iyong makasama ko si Kath.
“I can’t take it anymore Marco. Every time we do those things we did, I feel so dirty.”
Mas lumakas pa ang iyak ni Kath.
“I am sorry Kath… This is all my fault.”
“No Marco. Hindi na ako bata. May isip naman ako. May sarili akong desisyon. Ginusto ko lahat ng ginawa natin. Ginusto kong pumasok sa relasyong ito na walang pumipilit sa akin. Kaya pareho lang tayong may fault dito.”
Gusto kong bigyan ng justification ang mga ginagawa namin. Pero anong justification ang puwede kong ibigay. Puwede ko bang sabihin na tao lang ang may gawa ng lahat ng existing moral standards?
“We love each other Kath. That’s all that matters.”
“Stop that Marco. Mahal nga natin ang isa’t isa pero mali eh. Patuloy ba tayong mamumuhay sa kasalanan?”
Puwede ko bang sabihin na mas malaking kasalanan na patuloy silang nagsasama ni Jay… at kami ni Anna… na alam naman namin pareho na hindi namin sila mahal?
“It has to stop Marco. We have to stop. Bago pa man na mabisto ni Jay… o ni Anna… o ninoman… ang mga ginagawa natin eh itigil na natin.”
Ano pa ba ang puwede kong sabihin para ma-convince ko si Kath na huwag tapusin ang relasyon namin.
“Marco… I am sorry. I am not choosing between you and Jay. I am choosing between what is right and what is wrong.”
Gusto ko sanang sabihin kay Kath na ako nama’y hindi namili sa pagitan ng kung ano ang tama at mali. Tatlo ang pinagpipilian ko – ang tama, ang mali, at si Kath. At si Kath ang pinili ko.
“Let’s just be friends Marco. But no more calls. Let’s go back to what it used to. Puwede tayong magkumustahan once in a while pero PM na lang.”
“Kath please… allow me to still call you…”
“Marco… we both know what will happen if we still do video calls. So please… Hayaan mo na ako. Tulungan mo ako sa gusto kong gawin. Mahihirapan din ako. Nasanay na ako na lagi kang kausap at alam mo kung gaano ako karupok pagdating sa iyo. But I have to bear it.”
“Basta Kath… I will still call you.”
“If you do that Marco, I will be forced na i-block ka sa Facebook. If you will call me using your phone, I will block your number as well.”
Wala na akong masabi. Tinignan ko na lang si Kath. Maaring iyon na nga ang huling pagkakataon na makausap ko siya.
“If you have nothing more to say, I have to end this call. Jay will be calling anytime soon. Ni-request ko iyon. Parte ng prosesong pagdadaanan ko. Sa halip na ikaw, siya dapat ang kausapin ko.”
Nasaktan ako sa narinig kong iyon. Pero ano ang magagawa ko.
“Ano, may sasabihin ka pa ba?”
Iling na lang ang naitugon ko kay Kath.
“Marco, for the last time… let me say this. I love you. But I have to learn to forget you. Sana maintindihan mo kung bakit ko kaylangang gawin ito. I am sorry.”
“I love you too Kath.”
“Goodbye now Marco. Pilitin mo sanang matutuhang mahalin si Anna. I wish the best for the two of you.”
Wala na si Kath. If that is for good, only God knows.
I lost Kath… not to Jay… but to her strong faith.
Mahirap talagang karibal ang Panginoon. Wala akong panalo.
Siguro nga eh tama si Kath… hindi kami ukol para sa isa’t isa.
– W A K A S –
The Runner-up
(A Dramatic Speech)
Thrice that I tried, thrice that I failed. That in a nutshell is the story of my attempts to represent our school in the annual extemporaneous speech competition. Had I won first place in the contest I should have been the school’s bet for that event. But as usual, I ended up the runner-up and my friend Athena the winner. She really is an excellent orator. Whatever I can do, she can do better. It is what it is. That’s it. Perhaps next year, I’ll just try declamation so I wouldn’t compete with her anymore.
“I was just lucky Christian!” That was Athena trying to console me after the contest.
“It has nothing to do with luck. You’re really a good speaker.” You deserve to win. Good luck with the speech competition.”
After saying “thank you,” Athena embraced me. Well, that’s my consolation prize, I got a hug from my friend.
Then the day of the competition came. I went to the school hosting the cultural contests to watch the different events. As soon as I reached the campus of the host school, my phone rang. It was Mrs. Simon, our school principal. She asked me to see her immediately so we could talk. Sensing the urgency in her voice, I headed hurriedly to the library of that school where she said she would wait for me.
“Christian… Athena is in the hospital now, she had an accident on her way here. She wouldn’t make it to the contest. Having won second place in our elimination you ought to substitute for her. You will be our contestant for the extemporaneous speech. The officers of the event allowed it.”
I was dumbfounded…speechless! She talked fast as if not wanting to give me the opportunity to say no. That’s vintage Mrs. Simon… direct to the point, firm, and wouldn’t take NO for an answer. No ifs, no buts. I didn’t know what to say then. I was worried about the fact that I’m joining a competition on so short a notice…but I was more worried about Athena.
“The contest starts in less than two hours. Do this not for yourself, not even for the school. Do this for your friend Athena. PLEASE!” Mrs. Simon implored.
I accepted the challenge and started preparing mentally. It’s good that I was familiar with the criteria for judging and the theme was the same one we used for our school competition. The only problem was the specific topic.
When Ms. Cruz, Athena’s coach arrived, we had a discussion about the contest rules and the possible specific topics the judges might give.
Then finally, the contest started. And as if having only less than two hours to prepare is not challenging enough, I even picked no. 1 in the drawing of lots making me the first contestant.
In a room adjacent to the contest venue, I was handed a piece of paper containing the specific topic written in a question form.
“What can you do to make the Philippines a better nation?”
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. That’s not one of the possible questions I practiced with Ms. Cruz.
I had three minutes to prepare my speech…three minutes to think of how can I make my country better. Are the judges kidding me? They are giving me just a few minutes to solve the problems that bedeviled this nation for God knows how long.
Look! How many presidents took turns in running the show in Malacañang? How many years did each of them have to make this nation great? Did they succeed? NOOO!!! And here are the judges asking me to perform a miracle… make the Philippines a great nation… and I only have what… 3 minutes!!! Those presidents even had the help of the honorable senators and congressmen and here I am…just an ordinary boy… by my lonesome! What can I do?
Wait…wait…! Calm down Christian….calm down…this is just a contest…take the competition seriously and not the question…it’s only a question…it’s hypothetical. Don’t take it personally! Take a deep breath. Come on! Inhale….exhale…
I want to stop the hands of time. Every movement of the minute hand is like a knife slicing my mind, shredding to pieces my composure.
Until the last few seconds, nothing came to my mind. Then Ms. Cruz came telling me it’s time. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Dear Lord, please help me.”
Deliberately that I walked slowly towards the next room. Then I passed by one student standing on the hallway his head swaying to the music he’s playing on his cell phone. I know the song. It’s Michael Jackson’s “Man In The Mirror.” Then that part of the song I heard as I passed by the student was like electricity that lightened a bulb in my head.
That was one of my “aha moments.” God heard my plea.
“I am but a young man. Still struggling to get an education. I don’t have much to give… no brilliant ideas to share… to make the Philippines a better nation. I don’t have the power, the money, the influence to make any meaningful contributions to our society. But there is one thing I can do that might just be what this nation needs. In one of his songs, the king of Pop, the late Michael Jackson, said that if I want to make this world a better place, I have to take a look at myself then make a change. That exactly is what I intend to do. I cannot change the system of our government. I cannot change your ways of thinking and of doing things. I cannot change you…but I can change myself. I have the power to transform me. I can change my attitude in life. I can change my perspectives. I can be the best me. If only each of us can change for the better, the Philippines might be a better nation.”
That I supposed was the best part of my 3-minute speech. I did not stay in the contest venue after I delivered my impromptu speech. I went out and proceeded immediately to the hospital where Athena was confined. I was happy to see her sustaining just minor injuries.
While in the hospital, I got a call from Mrs. Simon informing me of the results of the contest. Guess what! NO! I did not win 1st place. I was again a runner-up. At least, along with the winner, I will represent the district in the provincial competition.
Anyway, winning the contest was not the great news I wanted to have that day… it was knowing that my friend Athena is okay after the accident.
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 