Friday afternoons are always hectic in the air- conditioned mall. After school,
the students would congregate there. Not too many of them are buying. The boys
are girl-watching while the girls are boy-watching. And the plainclothes house
detectives are watching the boys and the girls.
Manny was trying to look inconspicuous. He wore his favorite golf cap that
camouflaged his receded hairline and hid his eyes with his signature mirrorized
dark glasses and was standing near the entrance of the shoe store, pretending
to observe the children going up and down the escalator. He noticed that there
were some older people, probably from distant barangays, doing the same, trying
to appear bored by the moving staircase but one could tell by the way they were
holding on to the moving hand rails and looking all around them that they found
the experience exhilarating, like being on a Ferris Wheel, an experience they
would nonchalantly brag about to people back home in La Paz, Bunawan, or
Esperanza.
The girl manning the cell phone counter had on an abbreviated mini-skirt that
revealed skinny thighs and crooked legs, over which she wore loose and wrinkled
cheap-looking beige pantyhose, too thick and warm for the tropics as evidenced
by the dark perspiration stains at the back of the knees, like outlines of maps
to secret buried treasures. She wore a push-up, pull-in miracle bra one cup
size larger than what was appropriate for her build. Her pink lipstick, which
did nothing to compliment her dark complexion, was, unknown to the poor girl,
smudged on her left front incisor so that people could not help but notice her
irregularly spaced front teeth. On her face, she had applied a whitening cream
make-up base which had dried up and which was beginning to crack, creating fine
linear fissures at the corner of her mouth and eyes. The poor girl would have
been pretty in her own way but instead, she had become a distorted caricature
of her true self.
Manny felt sorry for her and thought that that girl was Jennifer. He laughed
heartily believing that Betty had finally succeeded on playing a practical joke
on him. "Oh, well, score one for Auntie Betty." taking the joke good-naturedly.
He had time to kill. He remained standing there for a few moments, undecided
whether to go to the movie theaters on the top floor near the food court and
watch a domestic horror film starring Rica Peralejo or to proceed to Margie's
Coffee Shop for an espresso. Michael had bragged to him that the movie
auditoriums at the mall were now of Manila standard, no more sticky Wrigley
peppermint chewing gum on the seats and no more bloodsucking bedbugs peeking
out of the cracked joints of rough hewn laua-an benches.
Margie's Coffee Shop is a favorite hunting ground for the patient and the
adventurous but it was still a tad too early. The real good looking ones
usually come around at about ten at night. The ladies looking for action
usually smoke king-sized, filtered, blue-seal, mentholated cigarettes, wear
stiletto heels, ankle length sequined blue jeans and tight fitting peek-a-boo
blouses open down to the third button hole, the front gap through which one
could just barely discern flesh colored embroidered bras, an invitation for
viewing that only a retard could resist. These ladies, accompanied by men who
wear make-up, would usually have nothing but coffee and a generic smile. The
other real customers were out-of-towners who came for the famous cakes and
pastry and out of curiosity for the renowned Butuan society hideaway, to see
and be seen by the local elites. Once in a while, the certified town dirty old
men who usually congregate at McDonald's in the mornings, would come to drool
and ogle and pretend they still had it in them, and would be convinced that
they did each time the ladies glanced sideways in their direction. "Ha?" was a
question that punctuated every other sentence between these senior citizens but
they all dismiss the suggestion that they could benefit from hearing aids.
Manny was still undecided as to what to do with his time when he saw her in the
ascending escalator.
The face! That face in his dream.
The rest of the world turned blurred and unfocused and all the deafening
mixture of hip-hop noise from the dozens of blaring loudspeakers and the din of
people chattering and yelling to one another seemed muffled as if he were
submerged under the waters of the E. coli polluted Masao River and only the
soft tinkling sound of a distant xylophone echoing a sentimental love song
invaded his consciousness.
Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming again. He watched her float to the cell
phone counter, as if she were gliding on a layer of fluffy clouds, her feet
barely touching the artificial marble floor, the crowd of shoppers and gawkers
parting as she passed through their midst like Moses did through the Red Sea,
only that she looked more divine.
Manny could not decide whether to come forward and introduce himself or not.
"I can learn to love her." Manny thought.
"No, she's mine." The other Manny answered out of nowhere.
Manny turned pale, somewhat confused, and hurriedly ran down the escalator when
he heard Manny's voice. He rushed to his car, seemingly arguing with himself. A
few shoppers moved away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. He proceeded to the
parking lot at the back of the mall where there were fewer rugby boys to harass
him, got in his car, turned the ignition on and just sat there with the
air-conditioner blowing full blast on his face. He was getting concerned. These
visitations by his other self was getting more frequent. He had no control over
it. There had been times when he was somewhere and would not know how or why he
got there. Sometimes he could not account for some missing hours. These
episodes usually happened when he was angry, or sad, or tired but they seemed
to be happening more frequently now. Extremes of anything provoked it. His
bipolar disorder had been diagnosed but he never conveyed to his psychiatrist
his suspicion that he also suffered from a dissociative identity disorder. He
was almost sure he had multiple personalities. Doubling his Lithium tablets
just made him unconnected to the world and left him with a metallic taste in
the mouth and a weird peculiar smell of his perspiration and his urine. Taking
deep breaths, holding his breath, and exhaling the air from his lungs slowly
helped some. He felt a little more in control after a few minutes. He felt for
his radial pulse. Sixty. "Thank God!" he thought. He knew that any time the
other Manny was around, his pulse would start racing up to a hundred per
minute. He drove back to his hotel room and stayed there the rest of the day.
Wednesday was still five days away. The prospect of finally talking to her made
the anticipation hopelessly exquisite, like waiting for the sun to peep between
dark clouds after two weeks of heavy continuous rain. He could not sit still.
He finally decided to leave for Cagayan de Oro and spend the remaining days
there, playing two rounds of golf every day with his golfing buddies.
"Are you sure you're a senior? You should be hitting from the blue tee." His
friends were teasing him, amazed that he was hitting the balls two hundred
thirty yards.
"Manny, what kind of megavitamins are you taking? Your game has gotten
phenomenal!" Omar, the youngest guy in the foursome was truly amazed at the old
man's stamina.
"Not vitamins. He's just in love." Manny replied cryptically while pointing to
his own nose.
"No way."
"Yes way."
Nick smiled knowingly. "With whom, pray tell, another one of your sixteen year
old scholars?"
"Nope." Manny smiled back.
"You serious?"
"Yup. And I intend to marry her."
Nonnie missed his two foot putt. "Whoa! Like wedding bells? What are you
talking about, boy? You gone nuts or something? Listen, my wife left me for a
tennis instructor five years ago and I have never been happier. And how old is
this future Mrs. De la Verdad? If she's your age, she'd be all puckered up and
shrunken there. Vaseline won't help, not even KY jelly. Talk to Nick before you
go on your honeymoon." Nick is a gynecologist.
"Hey, Nonnie, mind your own business." Nick was beginning to see that Manny was
dead serious.
"Yeah, let's just get this round over with, then we can all get drunk. Listen
guys, I found a new karaoke bar with, you know, a lot of new wow wow wee!" Omar
butted in.
"You haven't answered the question yet, how old is this chick du jour?" Nonnie
challenged Manny.
"Eighteen."
"Eighteen? Manny, buddy, you da man!" Nonnie exclaimed in real admiration and
with a tinge of envy.
Wednesday afternoon and Manny took another shower. It was getting muggier the
later it got in the day. It took him thirty minutes to decide which shirt he
was going to wear. He then killed time tinkering with the cantankerous desk top
computer in the Almont Hotel lobby, sorting out his e-mails. At exactly ten to
seven, Manny got on his car and drove to the Inland Resort Hotel.
There were five teenage boys and six young girls. They had not started
practicing yet, just stretching and gathered at one corner of the large social
hall. From the corner of his eye he saw Jennifer talking with a Filipina
version of Jane Russell, Neri June, he was quite certain.
"Oh, Doctor! I'm so glad you could come. Betty told me you might come and watch
us practice." Wenwen rushed to the door to greet him as soon as he entered the
room. "I'm Wenwen." Wenwen limply extended his right hand towards Manny. Manny
took it and on contact, developed goose pimples at the back of his neck. The
young man's hand was soft and indecently moist with perspiration. Manny
immediately wiped his palm with the seat of his pants as if he had just come in
contact with fresh chicken manure.
Wenwen rolled his rs "Child-rrren, gather around and let me introduce you to
Dr. de la Verdad." The voice was painfully squeaky. Wenwen introduced everybody
one by one and Manny shook everybody's hand but held on to Jennifer's a bit
longer, something everybody noticed. Wenwen face darkened into a scowl as he
had always known that Jennifer could be a competition.
"It is my pleasure to meet you all. But please, don't let me interrupt your
practice. May I observe while you're at it?"
There was a chorus of unconvincing protest, "Oh, no!! That would be too
embarrassing. We are just beginning to learn a new dance routine." But everyone
was smiling.
"Oh, okay. Perhaps next week. Mr. Ginete, let's talk outside, shall we?"
"Yes, of course, but please call me Wenwen." The dance instructor tried to
touch his elbow and Manny moved a step back trying to avoid the contact. His
reaction was not unnoticed by Wenwen who got the message.
They talked about past performances, present projects, plans for the future,
and the arts in general for almost an hour.
"Okay, I suggest that you create a formal organization. I think you can qualify
for a non-profit cultural corporation and I can make a donation to the group
and enjoy the tax benefits from it. I shall make an initial deposit of one
hundred and fifty thousand pesos. All expenses will, of course, be accounted
for. What do you think?"
Wenwen was salivating and almost choked. "I will start the application process
tomorrow, but I insist that you be our adviser."
"It would be an honor. But I would like to be candid with you. My interest in
your group is not purely cultural. I have taken a fancy for one of your members
and I would appreciate your assistance...in any form." Manny winked.
Wenwen had the fleeting scowl again. Jennifer, of course. "Would that be
Jennifer?"
"Mr. Ginete, ah, Wenwen, you're so very perceptive, a quality of a true artist.
Tell me, have you dabbled in poetry and painting yet?" Manny's words were
dripping with honey as he touched Wenwen's pectoralis major with the tip of his
right index finger.
"A little." Wenwen lied meekly. He could hardly contain himself and was ready
to pass out in ecstasy when the doctor's finger touched his chest. "I shall
discretely mention it to Jennifer tonight." He whispered dramatically, looking
around to see if there was anybody nearby who could possibly overhear their
conversation.
"Very well, then. I got to be going. You have my cell phone number. We can call
each other as the occasion demands. In the meantime, I shall enjoy coming to
your practice sessions."
"Good night, Sir. I hope you come regularly. The kids will be inspired to do
their best. And thank you so much." The young man raised both hands over his
head and pirouetted to face his troupe.
Manny was in a good mood. He decided to go to the Embassy Hotel and have dinner
there. He called up a few of his buddies and did not return to his hotel room
until midnight.
"He had eyes only for you, you know that?" Neri Jun pinched Jennifer's arm,
pretending to be envious.
"Really? You really think so? Mmmm, I guess so. But he was looking at you, too,
like he was peeling your clothes off layer by layer with his eyes."
"Yeah, I know. My nipples are still hard. The eyes are so.. penetrating. I'm
still shivering. Ooh, he's so hot!"
"My gosh, Neri, get hold of yourself. The man is ancient. And he's fat and
bald. Why, he's old enough to be my grandfather!"
Neri whispered in Jenifer's ear, "Hi, hi! I know. I wonder if he can still get
it up." They started making loud girlish giggling sounds while trying to pinch
each other's side.
"Neri, you're just too much!"
"Jen, let's be practical. Remember our pledge, one for two and two for one. I
think we both can get something out of his interest in you." Neri rubbed her
fingers and thumb together, like counting peso bills.
"You're awful."
"I know." Neri grimaced, pretending to make an evil face. "A dress here, a pair
of shoes there, a trip to Boracay. We have endless possibilities."
"You're crazy."
"Maybe he would be willing to support us through college."
"No."
"And give us pocket money."
"No. And I don't like the direction of this conversation."
"Why not? A lot of students do it. And who cares, for as long as we are able to
get some kind of education? You can't afford it. Neither can I. If we are going
to wait for our parents, we'll never become nurses. Fifty thousand a year just
for tuition alone, can you imagine that? We'll be working in the mall for a
million years."
"My God, Neri, listen to yourself. Are you suggesting what I think you're
suggesting? Neri June, tell me truthfully. We have been friends forever. Are
you still a virgin?"
Neri June did not say anything. She was not smiling anymore. She turned her
face away from her friend for a while, to hide the tears that were beginning to
coalesce. She turned back to face her friend and hug her. "I'll do anything,
sell anything, to get us out of this misery! How about you?"
Then they started crying together a la Kristine Hermosa.
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Next - Chapter 12
