Family Values

I. Human Dignity

"What if we just drag all of the blind people out of the way? All the ones we see on the streets?" my dad asks. We're in the car on the way to church. He's driving, and I'm on the seat next to him.

"What?"

"They're traffic hazards. And I don't know if you noticed -- there seems to be more of them on Sundays. Taking advantage of how some people behave better on church day than on the other days." He checks the traffic light and the car ahead of him. "Running over one would be a hassle too. I bet it takes a longer time to get things processed when you hit somebody. They'll take my licence. Have this impounded. Type up reports in the precincts. What'll you do if ever we run over a blind man?"

"Call Tod?" I say. Tod is Dad's right hand man. He knows everybody who's anybody in City Hall. I figure he could get us out of any sticky wicket. Or so I thought.

"Tod's nothing. Call a lawyer. That's what we'll need."

The road's slick and glossy. It has stopped raining, but the thin sheet of water can still make the pavement slippery. Perfect day for an accident.

II. Blood and Water

John hands me the wad of cash. It's in a white envelope. "Don't forget the receipt."

If someone else said it, I would have taken it as a thoughtful reminder. But it was John. Anything my brother ever said hinted at a complete lack of trust. Now, what he means without saying is he wants to make sure the money goes to whatever it was I said I was needing the money for.

I shut up, but I want to give him a piece of my mind. I'm your sister, damn it.

III. Freedom of Choice

My legs are still numb. I can't feel my belly, even if I poke it with my finger. I look around and see Tod sitting on the chair next to me. He's reading the Sunday paper and looking for familiar names. The obits page.

I knew it. I shouldn't have brought him along.

The doctor comes in the room (it's the spare in his house which he turned into a recovery room) and tells me that I should be fine the next day. The womb's clean, as far as he could tell. Every bit's been scraped and taken out. There's no way an infection would start, that's his promise.

I can't help it but I cry for hours. I miss my mother.

Wish Me Luck

Just sent off a story to an open call.

Time to get some sleep.

Vignette:Josephine & Marcia and the Missing Silver Hairdryer

"The hairdresser was chatting away about some nouveau riche madame getting her hair fried when suddenly the lights went out and everything, everything in the parlor! went up in flames!"

"And how did you escape?"

"I was on the chair by the door, reading the latest OK magazine, the one that featured Regine and Ogie and Ruffa and Yilmaz."

"Did anyone get hurt? I mean, when I saw the parlor this morning, it looked like charred black things. There wasn't a flicker of pink anywhere."

"The hairdresser -- sheem's dead! And that's strange because the place was small, it was easy to get out of. Even the manicurista who was washing her tools in the corner sink came out with nary burn nor bruise."

"Sheem's gone! How awful! I have an appointment booked for the wedding on Friday! Where can you get a stylist at this late a time?"

"Hear, hear. Sheem was a rather talented one, wasn't sheem? I mean, sheem had hands like Franck Provost. Sheem can make Lotlot de Leon look like Keira Knightley."

"Or poor ol' me from a wilted spinster to a dashing debutante."

"Aye, me. Sheem will be missed."

"Fancing cracking the mystery?"

"Of the exploding parlor?"

"What else, dearie? Heaven knows I'm not going to go after whether the naked photo that's going around is the real teenage girlie from High School Musical."

"Hmm. Let me get my thinking cap on."

"Where should we begin?"

"Let's go to ground zero then. Number 45, Severina Avenue -- the building with hideous yellow accents and pink pink walls. It is too horribly loud for even a gay man to work in."

"Ahh, dear. Let's not get our personal preferences for classic and tasteful design in the way of good ol' fashion sleuthing."

"Hear, hear."

Whatever Happened to... First Love?

It's here! It's finally here!!!

Get a hold of FIRST LOVE, the latest anthology from Cozy Reads Publishing. Features 11 new stories from prizewinning authors as well as new and exciting voices.

Here's the TOC from the official website:

Project Uno - Elyss Punsalan
That Familiar Hand - Celestine Marie G. Trinidad
Room 101 - Belen Morabella
Summer Interlude - Chona Suner-Narvadez
A Certain Quality - I. P. Goze
A Kiss Is a Kiss Is a Kiss - Karen Manalastas
Whatever Happened To...? - Sally Magdiwang
Meeting at San Agustin - Ana Maria S. Villanueva
Love Digitally - Jason Paul C. Laxamana
The Seatmate - Raymund P. Reyes
Note to Self - Isabel Reoja

The book was released at the 28th Manila Book Fair. I'm not sure if there would be a formal book launch anytime soon... Anyway, if there is going to be one, it'll be posted here.

Like Cozy Reads says, Curl up with a good book. Make it First Love, ei? :-)

Forwarded Massage II (Classic)

After the seminal Forwarded Massage I (Classic), here's Part II. The author's still unknown. God bless her! Or him!

WARNING: Reading this out loud (and acting it out like I did) would really screw up your grammar IQ.

---------------------------------------------

I thought Jay's ex-girlfriend was really out of our lives. But heaven only goes
that I was wrong. Kakakasal pa lang namin nun when Jay received a uninamous
text. "Meet me at the clinic." I had a stinking feeling in my butt. I told him
not to go. It might in danger him. Pero sabi niya, ok lang daw because life is
what we make. Tumahimik lang ako. Sabi niya, "Penny for you talks." But I didn't
know what to say. Beggars can't be losers. Isa pa, worried talaga ako na baka
yung girl yun. Jay said, "Can't got your tongue?" I tried to smile at him. Kahit
di ako nagsalita, actions speak louder than works, di ba?

Be that as is
may, umalis pa rin siya. I was out of the loophole. After a few hours, I called
him on his cellphone. But my calls fell on Jeff's ears. Lalo akong nag-worry
kasi I didn't even know Jeff. Sabi na nga ba di na dapat umalis si Jay. That's
what I'm talking about it.

So I tried calling some friends who will help
me find Jay. That's what friends are for naman di ba? But I just faced a blank
mall. I had to do this alone. Nag-taxi na lang ako. Pero ang mahal na pala ng
plug down rate.

When I got to the clinic, the security was really buffed
up. Di basta- basta makakapasok. So I said, "I beg your cordon. I'm patient.
It's my favorite virtue nga e.Nagduda yata yung isang guard. Hinawakan ako sa
arm. The nerd! I shouted, "Don't touch me not!" Buti na lang the other guards
were nice and said, "Come on, let's join us."

When I went inside, parang
I've been there, done there. Nung walang nakatingin, nag-explore ako. Nakarating
ako sa top floor and I had a bird's IQ of the clinic. I could not explain it but
I was drawn to a room on the floor. Siguro Divine Intermission na yun.

Parang may narinig akong umuungol. I was thorn. Di ko alam kung aalis ba
ako o papasukin ko. It made me stick in the stomach to think that Jay and his
ex-girlfriend were there. I tried to tell myself to slower my expectations. But
to tell with it! I had to strike while the iron is not. I had to hear the truth
from the corpse's mouth. I barraged in. O my gas! Si Jay, naka-strap sa
operating table, parang genie pig sa isang nakakatakot na experiment. He was on
the cutting edge. He was bleeding. At ang doctor na nagpapahirap sa kanya, ang
ex- girlfriend niya at ang bago nitong boyfriend, ang nurse na si Walter. Doon
ko napatunayang blood is thicker than Walter.

Guess watch? Di ko alam
kung paano ko nagawa pero I was able to search and rescue Jay. Siguro adrenaline
brush na yun.

Now, he's recovering. Nag-sorry siya na hindi siya nakinig
sa akin. I know it's a better pill to swallow your pride so it's forgive and
forget me not. All swell that end swell. I know we should kiss and put on
makeup.

Ang ex-girlfriend naman niya at si Walter, nakakulong na.
Detention is really better than cure. So the moral of the lesson is: if symptoms
persist, insult your doctor.

The Day Sally Decides to be Single and...

Made out of unexplainable boredom and paranoia.

Keeping It Together

So for a minute I thought that the train was going to run me over and grind my innards into a summer fruit slosh on the Ayala station tracks. But then Oliver grabbed my collar and pulled me back, and I'm reminded of that scene from Sassy Girl where the very drunk love interest is saved by the unassuming protagonist.

I don't want to ramble on and on. But I have to tell you that my life flashed before my eyes and it was a pretty boring show. If I could I would've channel surfed, or subscribed to a different cable provider. I'm regretting that I didn't live my life. And I mean LIVE like the way the boys in "Stand By Me" or the dimwitted beauties on "Temptation Island" circa 1980 film did.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," I said. It's a strange feeling to be looking at Oliver so closely. My recollection of him in college was this unflappable and gorgeous student who made being a genius in engineering equivalent to owning a car. And he owned a car. How uber-cool was that? Years later he's within breathing distance and I can barely feel my legs -- the skin on his face was luminous, his eyes evenly lashed, his bone structure was a candidate for the perfect symmetry test. He could blind me with all that beauty. I reached to touch my eyes and pretended there was something in them.

When he spoke again, there was a mini second delay from the time his mouth moved to the point where I heard his voice. Like a missing audio-video lock, video editors would say. "You should really be careful."

"Yeah." It was the only word in my vocabulary that moment. I wanted to run into the wall and smash my head to get the words out, pick them up like I would do to coins from a broken coin bank. See? I have pretty coins! I have sparkling wit!

"I gotta go. You sure you could find your way back? On your own?" he asked.

There really was no point to the question, I realize just now. He wanted me to go on my own because he didn't have time, the energy, or the emotional attachment, for him to accompany me to my house's doorstep. That's the problem with married guys.

"Yeah."

We waited for the next train to arrive, and when the doors opened, I managed to squeeze my way through the egressing mob and into the car. I heard the buzzer and the doors closed. Oliver had gone. I felt faint, but the pack of people held me up. I might have lost my cellphone which I put in my shoulder bag pocket, but I wasn't really up to protecting anything. All I focused on was getting home without falling apart.