The mass was well-attended. Masses during fiesta have always been like this. People from the outskirt of the barrio were coming over to meet and greet the "balikbayans " on this event repeated only once a year. The church, being small, was swelling with believers. I saw many were standing near the entrance and on the sides. I was on the lectern carefully leafing through the songs we practiced for the Eucharistic celebration. I do not know what went wrong but something odd went up the air as the members of the choir I was handling started glancing one another. Then I saw my sister, Ramy her name, from the second pew on the right. Her eyes are daggers that pierce through my anxious gesture. Then i realize, I indeed made a mistake. And my sister will not let it past without judgment.
After the event, I hurriedly went out the church. I did without talking, and as much as possible, I wanted no one would notice. I did something wrong and my sister's going to look for me, probably to reprimand me, as she always did as if I am a unblemished sheet needed to be filled with her teachings. I remember one time, I was high school then, when she ordered me to go and get 'lukay' (dried coconut palm) which we used for starting the fire on the wood when we cook. Then having been to and fro looking for one to no avail, I returned and ask her where can I get one. She suddenly said, "sa bulanghoyan" ( to the cassava field). It's already getting dark over there but believing what my sister said, I went and look for one. I always believed what my sister said. That "lukay" might be somewhere there. She must have seen it late this afternoon and left it there and is now asking me to get it. But fruitless of all toil, I did not see one. I went back, holding my tears for the unfulfilled task. I told my sister I was not able to bring any. With the tone for anger, she asked, "where did you go looking for "lukay?" "To the cassava fields," I said. "The hell,' she yelled at me, 'I thought you are intelligent. How could you find one in the sea of cassava. Use your 'coconut' (intelligence). Of course, 'lukays' are probably under the coconut trees, not in the cassava field.'"
Then I went out. I could no longer hold my tears. I let it flow like a dike giving up to the weight of water. I was sobbing outside, beside a pit where we dump our garbage. I was thinking, how could she do that. I was like, "my sister was making joke when she told me to get 'sa bolanghuyan' but, yeah, how fool I am not to realize my sister is capable of humor. Later, it sounds funny. I realize, really, how could I find a "lukay" in the vast field of cassava. I smile a little for the wit of that but then, continue sobbing.
My sister heard it and wondered if she was being haunted by some ghosts lingering around. she almost run to the house until she saw me beside the pit. She approached me and scolded what was that I was crying for. I did not answer. Then she started crying too. Tears drip through her face as she uttered words like, why was I hurt for that. I should even be grateful for not experiencing the things she does. I was sent to school by our parents, unlike her who has to be a working-student only to make it in High School. I should even be grateful that I got to see our parents every weekend, unlike her who has to wait busy-ness to subside for her to be able to go home. I should have been grateful I have a sister like her to mend ways, unlike her who has been alone all over. Then lumps started forming on my throat. I stop sobbing and realize my sister is right.
Now, I run as if I could be killed once I am catch. I jumped through the rice paddies and it seems she's always right behind me. I hid behind rock and suddenly saw her coming as if in a lightning flash. I towards the church and hid behind the coconut tree as if it can enclose my slender figure. I was exhausted and I thought she will not stop until she can talk to me. Then I thought, I have to face her all at once. I cried why is it that she will not let go of me. I am no longer the young brother she used to know. I know what I am doing now and that she no longer have to point out my mistakes nor reprimand me. Then she lift her chin, look straight right at me saying she just want us to be buddies again, the way we used to. She wants to mend our ways and be the best of brothers and sisters one could ever think of. Then I replied, what we are is nothing for us and we can just go on our lives just the same. Then she said this would be last time time she'll be talking to me. She will be leaving. I felt cold water drenched through my hot and tired body as I heard her say that. I fear at the thought that my sister is going to leave me and I may not know when will be the next time we are going to see each other again. I almost cry at the thought that she has to go after me just for her to say her last goodbyes. She'll be leaving... she'll be leaving.... The words kept echoing my mind. The feeling of having her leave is intensified by the thought that she'll be gone the soonest I could muster.
Then amidst our drama, we were approach by a girl, I thought my other sister Mercy, telling us we need to be hurry for the jeepney that's gonna take her to the place I do not know where is waiting for her. I reluctantly walked with them, silenced by my gamut of emotions. There's only one vacant seat in the jeepney and it is reserved for her. She's wiping her tears as she embraced my sister Mercy before getting on the jeepney. She didn't look at me, I cannot look at her either. I am embarrassed although I am holding my body who wants to wrap her with my tight embraced. Then the jeepney starts its engine. As it slowly go, I ran and hold her hand, extending outside, very tight. The more I squeeze her hand, the more she cried.
And all of a sudden, there was , "bro, bro!". I understand I am being called. Then it gets louder with accompanying tap on my shoulder. "Bro, bro!" It continued. When I look back to heed the call, I saw Daive. "Bugtaw na kay mag-market ta." It was Daive, my roommate, walking me up for our Saturday morning ritual - marketing. Wheew!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment