The Jeepney Stories

……..

Mananalo si Mang Bert sa lotto

Hulaan niyo kung magkano

……..

I don’t know if forgiveness can repair what was broken

but if only she could turn back the hands of time

flowers blossom fragrance gives the feeling of hope and comfort

laundry still soaking in fabric conditioner

it was raining for days

today the sun came out

it was raining when he left

Babalik ka pa kaya?

……..

At the corner where it reeks of barbecued liver, intestines, and chicken feet, a plump seventeen year old sells newspapers.  She enjoys the komiks and the crossword puzzles. And she laughs whenever Rey, the taho man, limps by. Rey was shot in the hip by some police man three years ago.  It was a “stray bullet” the tabloid said.  She laughed at the stories.  It wasn’t because of the way he limped that made her cringe with embarrassment, almost wishing she or he were dead; it was the unbearable attraction.  Rey would fill five of her glasses with taho every morning free of charge. “Ikaw pa, libre ko na yan sa iyo.”  He’d say other things, too.

He walked funny and smelled a little bad, but she thought about the Axe Deo Cologne ads and knew it would help should she… well, if she considered the subtle invitations.

Between the crossword puzzles, the komiks and her thoughts every morning, Guita was a very busy girl. She would sit there entertaining her sukis, the regular buyers who would hang around, read and then pay. Often her sukis, after making small talk with Guita, would clutch their newspaper under sweaty armpits and wolf down a taho or two on their way to wherever they went. It was the same almost everyday, except the time Rey was shot.

In their small apartment Guita lived with her grandfather, her mom, her older brother and his wife.  Lolo, or lolo taba, used to run the newspaper stand. He now watches television with a passion.  Nanay, a chain smoker, runs a carinderia business with her kumares two blocks away.  Kuya Boy is in and out of the country. His last work was in Dubai as a janitor.  His wife, Ate Sandy, was as pretty as a 19 year old slut but she was 34 years old. Four years older than Kuya Boy and very malindi. That’s what Nanay would say under her breath. Malindi. Pokpok. If Ate Sandy asked for any of them to please pass the scrambled eggs, the pandesal, or the Chizwhiz, and it happened to be within Nanay’s reach, Guita could barely hide the smirk from knowing Nanay’s inner thoughts. It wasn’t very nice.  But, it actually thrilled Guita; her ways, her clothes, her perfume, the way men looked at her. Ate Sandy was the woman she often thought of being similar to. Minus, perhaps, the damaged feet from too much pedicure. Guita swore she would have better pedicures.

Ten years have passed.

……..

She was dizzy. She was very dizzy. I thought she would give birth. Right there. All her dreams. All their dreams in one dizzying tie-dyed dream. A big crystal ball that held their future together. Neither one could guess.

“Akong bahala”, sabi ni Inay. She would figure something out.

……..

One look and you’d probably notice her hands.

Her hands that reached in her pocket and shuffled around for change; that clutched her bag and felt the tupperware, the one she filled with rice and chopsuey. Chopsuey, the one from two days ago. The one she was glad that still had a few chopped liver.

It hurts sometimes. A lot. Sometimes. And she was off to see her Doctor. Maybe.

She had twenty pesos. Ah, finally. It took a while to dig in there. She fiddled with her watch.

It was really loud. I mean, I command you to stop right now loud.

That was how she presented herself.

Her magic umbrella banging the metal. Make way for me. Hindi mo ba ako naririnig?

She hopped in triumphantly with her yellow umbrella and her hands.

……..

Oh young love, let me count the ways. First, the matching shirts.

Second, she listens to the song on his iPod.

He cranks up the volume.

Third, the side glances and smiles. The secret messages.

Her hand.

Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and to Eternity, the feeling of loving you and only you. Forever.

Ikaw lang.

……..

Everybody now : “One of these things is not like the other…”

……..

We’re constantly thinking, moving, talking, wondering, communicating, commuting, buying, roving, shifting, hoping, watching… just constantly, this “doing something”.

Do you think that for a fraction of a second there was nothing on her mind?

That in the next jeep, the lady had nothing to say?

……..

Sometimes I don’t mind taking the slow jeepney rides to my destination. I figure I could use the time to think. These days it’s always about how many things you can accomplish in one minute and that can leave your brain hopping and skipping and tripping over things.

These feet want to run. Run to get my heart pumping. Run to think. Run to sweat. Run marathons.

……..

Watching her bundle all that suman was such a joy.

Malamang naubos ang paninda niya nung araw na iyon. At maraming nasiyahan.