The San Vicente Road to Bingkilan is littered with potholes. Recurrent floods
had damaged the poorly maintained roads that can barely accommodate two
regular-bodied trucks. Squatters and legitimate land owners, for inexplicable
reasons other than lack of space, have built their homes and shacks flush
against the sides of the roads and over the open stagnant water-filled canals.
One can take one step from their al fresco family room right onto the side of
the road. Dogs and cats sunbath between the potholes and spend their afternoon
siesta on the hot paved segments at the same time that their masters take their
own. The City Zoning Ordinances are either non-existent, un-enforced, or
unenforceable.
The western shore of the river is lined by furniture companies, small time
sawmills, marble and granite shops, and mostly shanties with a natural sewage
system called the Agusan River. There is no proof that these furniture shops
buy lauaan, narra, tugas, magkono and other endangered species for commercial
purposes. It is against the law to cut these trees down therefore it is
presumed that the rumors of illegal logging are only idle gossip engaged in by
the uninformed to harass the innocent rich and the powerful entrepreneurs
because they have nothing better to do and gossiping against those who can't
retaliate is as good a pastime as any.
Tony Lee and Jennifer enjoyed the riverside scenery during their evening trips
to the almost completed second Butuan Bridge. Tony knew to slip a hundred pesos
to each of the night watchmen guarding the construction equipment and material.
They were allowed to drive up to the edge of the construction and to walk up
the end of the finished segment where they could be alone with the crescent
moon. They would sit close together on the inner metal railing, hardly saying
anything, with only the sides of their arms touching, enjoying each other in
their own private hideaway. They could just see the lights of the few scattered
houses across the river and they could barely hear the slow flowing water of
the river below them. Once in a while a bat would whiz by and once in a while
they would hear the hoot of an owl or the crying of a baby from somewhere.
There are no mosquitoes because the incessant northerly wind causes a
turbulence that can damage their soft filmy wings.
Tony was caught by surprise when, on their second trip to the unfinished
bridge, Jennifer sought his hand out, gently squeezed it and not let go, a
quiet and simple declaration of affection that the Bard himself would have been
unable to express in a thousand sonnets or in a thousand years. Religious rites
and civil ceremonies were no longer necessary to seal their bond and bondage to
one another because for Tony, from that moment on, not even death could do them
part.
Facing north, in their first moments of sweet nothings, in the silliness that
only the young in love have the right to indulge in, they decided to claim the
last star on the handle of the Big Dipper as their own. She christened it
Twinkle.
Twinkle, twinkle little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Come tomorrow, shall I die?
Jennifer did not know how the rogue fifth line came about. She was startled
because it insinuated itself into her mind with rhyme but for no reason at all.
She refused to have morbid thoughts intrude into these precious moments. Over
the last few days she had confirmed her first impressions of Tony. He was her
own great bear, her own Ursa Major. He looked so innocent and so vulnerable
that her maternal instinct to cuddle him and to protect him became undeniable
and overwhelming, enough for her to be sure that this was the man she wanted to
live the rest of her life with.
"I will have to let him know."
"Who?"
"Dr. De la Verdad."
"Of course."
Jennifer had confided earlier that she had another suitor although Manny's
pursuit was limited to that single instance when they were caught in the
thunderstorm. She told him about Manny's offer which, she assured Tony, was
offered with sincerity and that Manny had always acted in a manner consistent
with his profession.
"The sooner you tell him, the less painful it will be for him. I can only feel
for the man. It would not just be the rejection or repudiation that would be
unbearable but the realization that it would be the end of his world, as it
would be the end of mine, should I ever lose you."
Jennifer understood the wisdom in his words and heard the kindness in his voice
and she loved him even more.
"Very well then, I shall tell him next Wednesday when he comes to our dance
practice."
Sunday started out as an overcast morning. But this did not dampen the spirits
of Barangay Obrero Captain Roberto Buhat and the other "kagawads." They were
going to make St. Joseph's Day Celebration in Barangay Obrero a day to
remember. The one year accumulation of trash on and around the Barangay
basketball court had been removed. The area had undergone sporadic
beautification through the years. Vincent Van Gogh would have sliced off his
other ear had he seen the mint green bleachers and the indigo blue stage across
the court, a color combination only the divinely enlightened would dare
compose. But then, of course, his artistic concepts were antiquated, compared
to the contemporary natural talent of Boyong, the all around volunteer handyman
who left his signature boldly scrawled vertically on the main stage post, in
italics and in florid red.
The gravel road Montilla Boulevard Extension had been graded, compliments of
some city officials who were concerned about the voters' sentiments, hoping to
alter the trend in their favor. Election time was not until 2007 but they
reckoned it would not hurt to start early.
By ten o'clock, the clouds had dissipated and the sun had started to beat down
on the cement court. The barefooted Langihan street children could no longer
play on the scorching cement and were consigned to harassing the electricians
who were now putting up the sound system on the stage.
"Tessst, tessst. Testing one two three." The five foot tall speakers were
booming and could be heard several blocks away, up to the waterways that were
covered with water hyacinths. The electrician who fancied himself the
reincarnation of Frank Sinatra could not help but sing My Way, accompanied by a
CD he had "accidentally" kept in his left shirt pocket. Some of the street
children and a couple of the Badjao kids from the bus and jeepney terminal were
singing cho-cho-wa with him.
Blinking colored lights and lightbulbs that bubbled were hung completely around
the basketball court and were it not for the absence of an artificial pinetree
covered with artificial snow, one would have thought it was Christmas time. The
students who were putting up buntings donated by Smart and Globe were actually
humming White Christmas, imagining snowflakes floating down from above, "just
like the ones they used to know" although none had ever seen the real stuff.
The whole place was in a festive mood. A few homes opened their doors to
guests, strangers and acquaintances, for lunch and the "professional" traveling
fiesta celebrants from as far away as Nasipit had started to congregate for the
free meal.
The beauty parlors all around Butuan, Buenavista, and Cabadbaran were fully
engaged and domestics competed with the society people for appointments.
Everybody had to have their manicure, pedicures, facials, make-ups, and false
eyelashes because that night was the night, the first day of May, the first day
of a string of celebrations. People from as far away as Camguing and Bohol
would take a three week vacation in Butuan to join in the dancing, free food,
and merrymaking which usually culminated on May 20, after the City Fiesta.
By sundown people had started arriving at the Barrio Obrero Barangay Basketball
Court. There were hundreds of seats lined along the four sides of the court and
there was a long table intended for the Barangay Officials and other VIPs. Of
course a special place was reserved for the priest who would do the blessing.
This year they did not know who it would be. People gossiped that there was a
verbal confrontation between the parish priest and his subordinate and that the
argument had something to do with the altar boys, no one new for sure.
Neri June brought her clothes and other female thingies to Jennifer's house,
put on her own make up and helped Jennifer with hers. They were both excited
about the dance and had been practicing the old dances like the tango, cha-cha,
waltz, and swing. The balikbayans, most especially those from Texas, Georgia,
and California were particularly into these ballroom dances.
Neri June was somewhat distracted, constantly checking her cellphone for
messages, like she was concerned that she had missed a call.
"Ner, stop fussing with that phone and check my eyeliner. What's the matter,
are you expecting Richard Guttierez to call you tonight?"
"Huh? No, no. Golly, Jenn, you look gorgeous. The guys are going to go nuts.
No, your eyeliner is perfect."
"Well, let's get ready to go already. It's hot in here."
"How's my make-up? I hope my lipstick is not too bright."
"No it looks good. Apply a little gloss. Are you wearing a bra?"
Neri smiled. "NO. Why do you ask?"
"Cause I can almost see your nipples."
"Ha! That's the general idea."
"But it will look like you're flaunting them."
"Exactly!"
Naturally, they were a hit. The young men lined up to get to dance with them.
The sweaty Capitan could not help but ogle at Neri June's promontories and
begged to dance with her, much to his wife's chagrin. She pleaded a splitting
headache and decided it was time for them to retire when she saw him pull Neri
June toward his chest during Englebert Humperdink's "Release Me."
At eleven forty five, right after one of the rich balikbayans decided to buy a
refreshing soft drink for all three hundred guests, Neri June decided it was
time for them to leave. She just had gotten a text message. She wiped off the
cold moisture of the coca-cola bottles and put them inside her big handbag.
"Let's go." she motioned to Jennifer.
"Where are we going?"
"Just come with me."
Boyong, the local Picasso, was saddened to see them go. He was enchanted by the
beauty of the girls but was undecided which one captured his heart. So he
decided to dedicate his next poem to both of them and would start composing it
as soon as he got home and after the effects of the cheap Tanduay Rum had
subsided.
Neri June was glad that the Montilla Extension Road was dry and recently
graded. She liked her new pair of high heel shoes which was just perfect for
dancing. The shoes made her look tall and statuesque, accentuating her thighs.
She got hold of Jennifer's hand and pulled her towards the Desmark and Honda
display windows on the boulevard.
"Where are we going?"
"Just come with me. I want you to meet someone."
Before Jennifer could protest, a white SUV stopped in front of where they were
standing, right under the broken street light. The passenger side door opened
and a hand was extended out. "Hi, I'm Arnie. I'm the one who called you. Come
on in!"
Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.
There were two other men in the SUV, as well as the driver, but it was one of
those large SUVs so it was not too crowded when they got in.
"Would you like to have a chocolate candy?"
Back to Table of Contents
Next - Chapter 16
