Rene Villanueva's Class

We lay on the bed there.
Kissing just for practice.
- Belle and Sebastian, "Seeing Other People"

Part One

After Rene Villanueva's class, I'm so elated that I fly around the field. I experiment with means of take-off. Running, skipping, piroueting... My favorite is me taking a few steps back, tipping back until I think I am going to fall but the air catches me and I am in flight.

I do this for too long and even when I hear the bell ring I carry on flying. It's too good I can't stop!

I'm late for class and they ask me to fill out an excuse slip. Under "Reason for tardiness" I write "Flying."

Part Two

Time has come for us to act out the plays written in Rene Villanueva's class. J and I are cast in the lead roles.

The play's climax goes something like:

Boy: This is what I have to tell you.
Girl: (Looks tense. Hand goes to table behind her for support.) I thought it was good news? It doesn't look like good news.
Boy: (Pauses. Clears throat.) It was me.

But during practice it comes out like this:

Boy: This is what I have to tell you.
Girl: (Looks tense. Hand goes to table behind her for support.) I thought it was good news? It doesn't look like good news.
Boy: (Takes two giant steps toward Girl and kisses her on the mouth. It's a long, long kiss.) It was me.

Reading Braille

Sockie, Cheng and I arrive at the old house. We explore it and get to know it again. Places of it are dark and derelict but we don't mind. I touch the walls, the bannisters, the doors like a blind person reading braille.

Upstairs is the gallery. I look at the pictures. Sockie, Cheng and I. No one else. It means it's our house now.

At the Moment

I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. It's so nice of you to meet me. So. Well. Here we are. Is he looking? Sphinx?

Yes.

Never mind.

Is it true what I heard?

Yes, of course it is which is partly why I needed to talk to you. Remember the elevators?

Yes.

There. That's all I can say at the moment but do you understand?

Yes.

All Her Moves

Beauty is where you find it. - Madonna

David Bowie picks me up at hotel room. "Why are you carrying all those bags?" he asks.

I try to explain, "This one has my cell. This one has my lip gloss. This one has my wallet -- "

And it's the idea of needing to carry around money that he finds funny. I feel slightly ashamed that I have revealed my non-celebrity status by needing cash but he acts so nice about it albeit he can't help from laughing when he says, "Leave your stuff sweetheart and take my arm."

So that is how you see us, Me and David Bowie walking across the hotel lobby. And you stop dead in your tracks and I blow you a kiss.

It changes one, you know, to be treated like a celebrity. I've done more significant things in my life but I've never felt this important. Or so loved.

Anyways.

People from our entourage open the doors of a theater and guide us to VIP seats and then, she comes on stage, because our people have cued her people that we have arrived. She comes on stage and starts singing and dancing, Madonna my idol is singing and dancing for me and David Bowie. I squeal from delight and sing and dance along. I know every word and know all her moves.

David Bowie just watches me and smiles.

Kilig Junkie

He pretends it is accidental -- the way his arm keeps touching mine. We're part of a group and we're working on a project and don't ask me what project it is because I haven't been paying attention what with all this clandestine touching of skin.

It's electric, it is. I am high for this kind of thing. I will feel jubilant for days. I am a kilig junkie.

Suddenly, amidst the chaos, his puts his hand on top of mine. No one notices. I tilt my head to meet his eyes and smile.

Barefoot

You don't know the power that you have with that tear in your hand.

Your car is the first thing I see. It's not likely that we will meet here but still my heart races. I wander around wanting to see you but not wanting to see you too. Do you understand?

While wandering I see: a group of yuppies still in their suits toasting the fine weather (indeed it is fine), a playground, a pond, swimming pools, bath tubs, a beach -- all kinds of water and water containers and the black of the blackest ocean.

I take my sandals off and carry them in my hand. All the world is all I am. Do you understand?

This is how I am when I see you: Barefoot, flushed from the exercise, my hair sticking to my face, my shirt wet.

You are sitting in a gazebo that overlooks a lake. You are with two girls. (I think they're pieces of me you've never seen.) I approach. (I've forgotten to put my sandals on and they are still swinging from my left hand.)

You rise and stare in disbelief. Well, part of me doesn't want to see you, right? And that part of me wants to turn around and run. But you smile at the same time a tear falls from the corner of your eye and you come towards me and we hug and I let my sandals drop on the ground.

All the world just stopped now.

***
Tori Amos' words from "Tear in Your Hand" in Italics.

Closer, Closer

I follow him to a party. It's dark. We're in a house that sits on top of the hill. The floors are slippery, red. People I don't know talk to me. I try to keep an eye on him but it's dark, black. I lose him.

All around are candles and the smell of wax.

When I see him it is exactly like I feared. Him and her locked in a kiss. How could he, how could he do this to ME.

The sense they are being watched so they look at me. I'm so startled that I start to run. He comes after me so I run faster. I make my way out the house that sits on top of the hill. Do you know the walls could be peeled off? Like paint? That's how easy they came off for me. I kick of my shoes and run down the hill, the music from the party getting softer and softer. I run down the streets, the asphalt bruising my soles. I see lights from cars, a road, more lights.

I wave both my hands at passing cars trying to hitch a ride. No one will stop. I start crying. From behind me I hear him coming closer, closer.

Grounds

You've never felt so stressed in your life. The school bus has left you. Your cell phone went dead. The hallways are haunted. The lessons are difficult. The girls are unfriendly. Your best friend is dead.

Your best friend is dead.

She's the one torturing you, driving you mad, making strange these once familiar grounds of school.

Blue Blue

I think I'm in love but it makes me kinda nervous to say so.
- Beck

You know you should be afraid but it's nice that you feel. You let him pull you by the wrists. No, no, you say but you don't mean it and you giggle when he pulls harder. You're near enough for a kiss and you close your eyes to receive it.

Yes, your eyes are closed but still you see it.

You see him, you, the kiss, the blue blue sky get bigger and bigger to swallow you up.

Petiks and Bisi-bisihan at The Colony

You're surprised at how good it feels to be back. Outside the glass walls you can see that it's night. Inside there's a particular energy level that will reach its peak at around 2 am. You can't hear people approach you -- the carpet silences footsteps -- but you can see all around you because of the glass. There is a distinct hum of voices and keys. A vibration, if you like - a vibe, a hum punctuated by steady clicking and tapping of all those keys.

You are back but don't know what to do so you linger and move papers around. Petiks. You don't want to appear lazy or useless at your first night back at The Colony.

You don't recognize anyone but that's okay. It's early yet. Your team comes in later. And when you see Camille-wannabes wearing clothes that remind you of your own, you kind of laugh and change attire. You are able to change just like that. You change into short shorts (why not?) layers of tops and a coat. Let's see them copy this.

You see Ari and you remember why you liked him. He was so smart and talked to you about economics and gold and investments. "I liked a girl in college who looked exactly like you," he said. "Are you sure that wasn't me?" you said back. Now you ask him, "Ari, could you walk with me to the other side? I don't want to walk alone. This person I am avoiding will be easier to avoid if it appears we are talking about something important. You know, bisi-bisihan." He laughs. Ari, the economist.

When your team comes in you realize you don't recognize them and when they ask you for help you realize you don't know what to do. You don't know your passwords, you don't know The Systems, you don't know anything.

But it's okay. It's okay because... because... you've gotten through this before. You're happy. You have a feeling it will work. Yes.

Doors

There are things known and there are things unknown and in between are the doors.
- Jim Morrison

Chapter 1

We get along so well, she and I. I don't realize even realize that she's killing me until she pushes me down the floor of the car, and puts a pillow on top of my face until I suffocate. Her smile, so much like mine, is the last thing I see.

Chapter 2

A group of us are at a dock, waiting for someone to tell us what to do. I note sadly that we're all dead. I see June Pangan and we exchange stories on how we died. Here, in this place, the question "How did you die?" is a perfect conversation starter.

There must be a way out, since there's a way in. That's only logical, right? I concentrate all my efforts on thinking of that way out. They say there are doors and more doors that I must go through.

I can simply retrace my steps, right? Try to remember how I got here? But I can't remember. Her smile, so much like mine, is the only thing I remember.
Chapter 3

Twilight. Still bright enough to see my way but dark enough to be concealed. I fly over fences, over houses. I am escaping, going back. The mountains are beautiful. The ravines are scary. Everything is so quiet. Until a pack of wild dogs sniff at the air, see me flying above them, and start to bark.

Shit.

Chapter 4

I keep flying. This time I'm flying over a castle. The doors conceal the parties inside but I hear the laughter and the rattling of china and silver.

Inside this castle is my house. Where the library is and all of the old rooms. I open all the doors and check all the rooms. I decide to stay for a while. I can fix this place up, make it feel like home again.

I see a picture of a girl. Her smile, so much like mine, moves to form a grimace.

I scream.

Mudberg

All this water feels claustrophobic. Days and days on this ship and I would give anything for some land.

Is this what drove Rose insane for Jack? Stuck in a cruise ship with all that luzury and nothing to do. Oh, Jack, let's hide in the ship's luggage area and let's fuck like crazy, I'm so bored, and perhaps I can wear nothing but jewelry as you sketch my likeness that will make you want to fuck me more.

Land, someone shouts, land. Oh, thank god and I look around to see if I can see it but I can't then people start screaming, and I believe it's because they're so happy like I am but no, they're frightened and when I look at where they're screaming at, I see a mountain. Land, indeed, coming towards us, or rather, or more accurately, we are coming towards the iceberg of mud -- a mudberg.

So, like, being a smart girl, I run towards the life jackets and it's quite difficult to run with all this water first around my ankles then my calves then my waist.

I am going under and I hope my family will still be able to identify my drowned, wet, dead body.

Puddles, Rock, Alkaline

Restless for the likes of reckless me.
- Joni Mitchell, "Don Juan's Reckless Daughter"

Daddy is arranging to get our visas approved. I hover. Go away, he says but not angrily, go away, I can handle this. Daddy, let me help. No, no, it's quite alright. He smiles at the official, my daughter here, quite the girl to put her finger in everything. He apologizes for me, what for, it's not clear. Why is he mad at me for wanting to fix it myself? When finally it's done, approved, a-ok, we walk. Daddy, Mama and Me walk to the car. It's just rained. The ground is wet. Puddles. Are you alright, Daddy asks. Yes, see, I'm wearing my Doc Martens. I can walk on anything -- puddles, rock, alkaline. Anything at all! I deliberately step on all the puddles. My jeans are six inches in mud but I'm so happy.

G

I should have known, should have known, should have known again.
But here it goes again. Oh here it goes again.
- OK GO

I'm back.

It's Normie who calls the shots. She's the shortest girl in class but she is the class president. She stands on the platform, assigning tasks, making announcements, telling everyone to keep quiet which is really the class president's main job.

She calls me Cookie. Of course there's that nastinest left over from all those years of fighting but being Seniors makes everybody feel sisterly and forgiving which is why, perhaps, she calls me Cookie. Henceforth I will allow it.

I look down at my left jumper strap. There it is -- the G. So, it's true, I'm back.

I almost drown in a wave of panic. Who knows how much time I have left to correct all the things that need to be corrected.

Step one. Ignore Anna. Less than 10 years from now she will proposition you and you'll laugh. Step two. Let Annie be. She's going to UST soon -- the school which made even Jose Rizal unhappy and in that school she will betray you. Step three. Ah, Ella. Warn her about your favorite ex who won't like her as much as she likes him. Step four -- oh forget it. This should be step one -- find Naj. Tell her! Tell her everything!

Now how can I slip past Normie?

It's no fun to go back. This responsibility, heavy like lead, heaviest around my heart.

Don't Ask Questions

Where do I turn? There, the cemetery gates. Tombstones, left and right. Mud. Keep going. A highway, a city. Lights. Why is there a city in the middle of a cemetery? Don't ask questions. Keep driving. Where is this going? The car has no breaks. It's not going to stop. My legs won't move. My arms won't move. I can't drive. The cemetery gates. Tombstones. Mud.

Fair is Fair

Hear them listening. Hear them talking.
Bark, bark, bark, bark.
Talking nonsense.
- Possum Dixon

It's Anna who helps me read my new schedule. She rattles off names of classes I should attend, their times, their venues. I listen carefully but I don't understand her -- it seems as if she's talking too fast and I wonder if I'm getting enough sleep.

And I wonder why she's talking to me. Or if anyone is watching. Or if it's all in my head.

She's saying something important. I concentrate to understand. It has to do with a ring.

"You'll have to give me your rings. As payment, you know."

"No, I don't know."

"Fair is fair, Camille."

And I start to cry. It isn't fair. I don't understand my schedule any better, I'm stuck in my old uniform, I seem to have lost my sense of hearing and now I have to give her my rings.

I hand them to her. She bites off the diamond of the engagement ring (formerly mine) and winks at me.

Sigh

The walls are made of glass and security is strict. Paolo gets in because he swiped a special ID that I had no idea he had. I search my wallet hoping to find something like his but I take too long and the guards get suspicious.

"I must have lost it," I say.

Paolo intervenes. I watch him talk (watch because I can't seem to hear him) to the guard, explaining, entreating, joking. They lighten up and they let me in only if I arrange to get myself a new ID.

I look at Paolo surprised. I don't know what I'm doing but it sure feels fraudulent.

He tells me, "Just go along with it. It's no problem. I promise."

So I apply for a new ID but whoah, what's this, I have to stand in line at the salon to get my hair and makeup done and wait for a photographer to make me to a scenic location where I will finally get my headshot taken.

"All this for an ID? What kind of ID is this anyway? What kind of a place is this? Who do they think they are that they can do this to me?"

(I myself can't understand why I'm so angry over this.)

Paolo says nothing but I think I hear him sigh.

Annie

Nyanne and I are five years old.

"This is exactly the way it is in my dreams, Annie." Annie like before. We walk out into the school yard, holding hands, buddy system and then we fly.

We spend so much time in the air just staring down at school. By the time we land, we're seniors, late for class and we have a hard time getting back to our room.

When we finally find our room, the teacher is in the middle of a lecture and the we see that the classroom has boys. This means we're in college now.

"Good afternoon," the teacher says.

"Uh, hi." This makes the class laugh. Annie and I scamper away giggling. We hide in the next room which is empty and dark.

Ying, April and Estee come to pick me up.

"Cami, come inside. It's an important class. Where have you been?"

"I got lost."

"Lost? But you're a Scholastican! You should know this place!"

"Yes but I haven't been in this part of the campus since I was in... PREP!" I sigh. "Come, Annie," I say turning to the figure slouched against the wall.

"No," she says, "you dragged me out of there and now I'm not going back."

I consider. I do want to attend class but Annie is... I dunno. I feel responsible for her now. Guilt trip.

"Well Annie, what do you think we should do? I know I got you into this but now I miss class and I want to go back."

"Cami!" Ying sounds impatient. "Who are you talking to?"

Ying is right. There's no one there.

Exactly Like Me

I see them from the gap in the door so instead of stepping out and passing where they are I exit the back door and circle around the house. I realize that I'm being rude, that if I were younger Zitang would pinch me right in the singit for not entertaining callers properly thereby giving the family a bad name. I decide to risk it anyway and hide.

He sees me anyway.

"Cookie, what are you doing?" he asks.

"What does it look like?" I ask back. A question for a question.

"Hay, Cookie. Tumanda na tayo't lahat. Ganyan ka pa rin. Halika na!"

"Ano ba. Tignan mo. I'm drawing circles in the mud!"

This makes him laugh and he picks me up and dusts my shorts, fixes my hair and says, "I want you to come inside to meet my wife."

On our way back inside, I wonder what this girl looks like, my aftermath, his so-called wife.

My heart skips a beat when I see her face. I whisper to him, "Kiko, she looks exactly like me!"

Praise God

I don't want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run.
- Cake

Rom and I are finallly united in our hatred for each other. The marriage rites are over and we are now (puke!) husband and wife.

We obviously skip the honeymoon and my old room in Princeton is the safest place to hide from him and from everybody else. This is where I take refuge before I have to face the world and show up for work.

I'm gloomy and can't concentrate on my job which is to clean toilets and I ask my fellow toilet-scrubers, "What should I do? I hate him. I've always hated him and now I'm (puke!) married to him."

"Gosh," they say. "Talk to him. Reverse it. There has to be a way."

Funnily enough, I see Rom pass by the rows of toilets I have to clean and we merely smile that makes us both look like we are constipated.

Later, I confront him and remember to apply the sandwich approach. Positive-negative-positive. "Rom," I begin by ass-kissing, "I've always thought you were a logical man."

I can't believe it. This insincere statement has captivated him. He sits enthralled, waiting for more. I take advantage of my momentum and continue.

"But it looks like, through no fault of ours, we've gotten ourselves in an Impossible Situation."

He agrees, I can't believe how easy this is going to be. This is, by far, the easiest breakup I have ever engineered!

"You and I will have to work together to un-marry ourselves." I pause dramatically. "Do you concur?"

"What?" Hay dios ko, bobo talaga.

"Do you agree?" I paraphrase.

"Yes, yes, surely."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" I say. I am starting to see the light.

"What is it, what is it?" he asks.

"Diba before you left for Australia, you married what's-her-face? O, that means, under Philippine Law, you're still married to her! Therefore your marriage to me is - is - NULL! Diba? Makes sense?"

"Tama ka Camille but now what are we gonna do? Our parents..."

"Never mind our parents! Let me call my lawyer." By 'my lawyer' I just mean 'my friend Naj.'

We sit nervously while I call her cell. When she picks up I start ranting, "Tangina, Naj. So, Rom and I got (puke!) married totally against our wishes and so we want to reverse it and it turns out he's still married to what's-her-face, at least under Philippine law. God, I so want out of this. Can you get me out of this?"

"Camille," she says quite puzzled, "you don't have to look to Rom's marriage because... You are married. Remember? You married Paolo!"

"Ooohhhhh! You're right! Fuck! Praise God!"

Skinhead Boy

We hold hands as soon as we are out of sight. We exchange meaningful smiles, smiles that carry promises, smiles that tease, smiles that are there simply because we are so happy.

It's hot and dark and the alley is filled with the cooking smells - inasal, sinigang, adobo, grilled lamb chops, roast duck, garlic.

We make our way to the heart of the alley and I can't get over him. This skinhead boy with the long legs and washboard tummy. I brush against him just to feel him and he brushes back.

He pulls me inside one store in the alley and asks me, "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything," I say.

He takes a good look at all the food spread out and as he is choosing, I lean on him and put my arms around his waist and tell him, "I love you, Skinhead Boy."

He leans over for a long, wet kiss.

The Missing Skirt and The Irate Caller

Someone had a bright idea to have a wedding photo-op and for some reason everyone agreed. So here we all are again in church, re-constructing our wedding for the camera. In between shots I sit around in my wedding attire sans skirt and put on a pair of shorts.

When it's time to shoot our wedding kiss, I can't find my skirt. I try to convince everyone that my shorts will have to do. Do I not look so deconstructed? So postmodern? This is the look on this month's Italian Vogue, I swear! Perhaps the photographer can later on just photoshop a skirt on my person. But no, everyone insists that I should not stop until I find my skirt. I look everywhere but I don't find it and everyone is so annoyed at me because it looks as if we will have yet another wedding pictorial.

***

Jill answers her cell phone, listens and hands the phone to me. "It's Moe. For you."

I gesture wildly, like in charadres, shake my hands to mean, "No, no, no!"

Jill takes on a very professional manner (I guess it's her call center training) and says to her phone, "She can't come to the phone right now. May I take a message?"

She listens and from time to time covers the mouthpiece to repeat snippets of his message to me. "He hates you. He regrets ever having known you. He hopes you go to hell."

The rest of the barkada form a panel and comment on this new development. It is so American Idol.

"Who is Moe?" wonders Chingkay.

"MInsan mas mabuti na ang walang balita," says TL.

"This calls for an intervention," declares Nins.

As soon as Jill hangs up, she rolls her eyes as if to dismiss the call and says quite lazily, "What an irate caller."

I smile. Irate caller! I haven't heard that term in... years! And what a term to call Moe. It's so ironic but nobody but Jill and I understand the joke so when our eyes meet we burst out laughing.

The Other Wife

I bring it up in the most frank and calm way I can manage: "My love. There is a woman outside the house who says she is your wife. Your real wife. Is she telling the truth? 'Yes or No' lang please."

He hangs his head in shame and tells me that truly, the woman outside is telling the truth. He says I have to leave now. Thank you, good bye.

"Asshole. Do you know how much trouble you would have saved me if you had just told me about this sooner? Unbelievable."

I'm so stunned and confused that I don't know what to pack first. I just take a bag, stuff in the bank books and some money and put Forest on a leash. I realize I can carry more stuff so I take his bath tub.

On the way out I meet the other wife. I take a good look at her and realize that instead of jealousy, I feel pity and I want to reach out to her and tell her, "Good luck," but Paolo hurriedly takes her inside and shuts the gates on me.

Game Master

They say I have to stand in front and wet all these people with this hose. Are they crazy? It's for the party, they say. I volunteered to be game master, do I remember?

So I gather everyone and make them form 2 lines (the teacher in me takes over) and lead them out into the field. The idea is so ridiculous that I can't stop myself from giggling and people keep asking me, "What's so funny? Why are you laughing?" And I say, "Nothing, nothing. Heeheehee."

Out in the field, I make them stand in little groups while I take out the hose and before anyone can ask me what I'm doing with a hose in my hand, I start spraying.

They all start squealing and wiggling about and by now I'm laughing out loud. It's just too inane. I don't think anyone would want me to be game master after this and that thought is so funny -- though I don't know why -- that I keep laughing.

I laugh so much that the hose shakes. It lifts off the ground. I step up into the air. Into the air! I'm flying! Me and the hose are flying! From my vantage point, I keep spraying the people and they keep squealing. What fools. And since I can't resist a little bit of added attention, I spray myself with water and do cartwheels in the air and the fool crowd claps for me.

Jojo Grecia

I call Jojo Grecia as soon as I realize where I am. That I am back here is hard to accept but even sadder is that maybe I never even left. Jojo can explain. He will tell me what happened and what I should do.

He assures me that he will meet me for lunch. Which means, of course, 2 am. When I see him, I start crying just because he's so familiar. Everyone I was friends with, everyone I know is gone.

He says he has to take a train to get to the next building and he tells me to ride with him. On the ride, I rest my head on his shoulder and he holds me tight to keep me from sliding off my seat. Keeping his voice down to a whisper, he tells me what happened, that someone is after me, that as long as I don't tell anyone who I am I will be okay.

Incredible Scorn

He’s been lecturing me for quite some time now. I try to be empathetic, to listen with my heart, to unleash my inner Oprah but I have no clue as to what he’s talking about. He’s tall and bald and so, so hot. Just look at his butt!

Oh I swear, when he came towards me, I undressed him (in my mind) and by the time he said his first angry word, I consummated the relationship (in my mind). Still I am stunned when he asks, “What kind of girlfriend are you?”

“What? I mean, pardon? Say that again please?” I come to.

“You are an awful girlfriend.” Oh dear. A scene.

Quickly I scan my mental files. Quickly I scan the area around us -- no one must overhear this demented conversation. This man claims to be my boyfriend! How can I have forgotten him? I am getting old. I forget boyfriends (present ones at that!) as easily as I forget the dates. I’m too embarrassed by my lapse and though I don’t remember his name and can swear I’ve never met him in my life, I try to pacify him, to be polite. Surely good manners will see me through.

He continues, still dignified, but this time holding back tears. “You promised to come with me. I went with you wherever you took me. It’s all about you. You’re so selfish but I still love you. Please come back.”

I don’t understand it but I am crying as well. I’m so moved! This man still loves me! If I could just remember his name!

He turns around and leaves and I stand (I’ve been sitting on the pavement) and scamper along. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry! Please, don’t be like that. Wait! You! I still love you too!” Now, what the fuck is his name?

I lose him. It’s a big crowd – the auditorium is full. The concert has ended and Sunshine and Seo have come to take me home.

“God, “ I begin. “God! I feel awful! My boyfriend’s name completely slipped my mind! Talk about awkward! Poor guy! Oh well. Oh well, have you seen my husband?”

“You’re married?!?” they exclaim together, on their faces a look of incredible scorn.

Bring the Rum

Get used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
- The Shins

"We are all worried sick," the note begins. "Your sudden disappearance has caused us much distress. Where have you been? You are reading this note which means you are back. You have done a lot of wrong that you must atone for. You can start by doing a turn at the oval."

I sigh and change my pretty shoes for roller blades. Punishments, punishments. Fuck.

This oval that they are talking about is a complex roller-blading rink complete with landscapes and seascapes and whatever view you can imagine.

I skate out to it with a heavy heart, deliberately ignoring the gorgeous scenery and not looking any of the other skaters in the eye. Alex Vista sees me and exclaims that he misses me and since I am going for a turn, he might go for a turn too and he runs inside to change.

"Bring the rum!" I yell out to him as he disappears.

Two Weddings and a Giant Bouquet

Rica had 2 weddings. The first one didn't have the groom. In fact, it didn't have any men present at all. It was just us girls in our best gowns partying in the church. It was like some kind of debut.

The second was the same ceremony but this time with the groom and the rest of the men. It was more sober. It was like some kind of funeral.

I asked her why go through double the trouble and she said, "It's the way it's done." So I thought back to my own wedding but seemed to remember doing it only once. I felt awful.

Rica looked beautiful in both her weddings. But by the time it was time for us to do it again, everyone was so pooped and the girl's dresses didn't look too fresh. I was too distracted that when it was time for me to walk down the aisle as bridesmaid I realized I had left my bouquet somewhere and I tried to remember where I put it but I couldn't remember and the look of the church kept changing so it was useless to try to find it.

I yanked a fistful of flowers from a nearby pot and starting my walk down the aisle. I thought I would be alright but people kept handing me all kinds of flowers and I started having a hard time walking steady. I dragged my feet. I started to sway. The slit of my skirt ripped and exposed the whole length of my thigh. I wanted to hold on to my skirt but both my hands were busy grasping the motley bouquet to keep it steady.

By the time I got to the front, Rica's 2nd Wedding Ceremony was over and I was exhausted and had in my possession a bouquet so unusual and so large that they would later have to knock down one of the church's walls for me to be able to get out with it.

21 Again

My Darling Love, what did you do to your hair? What made you shave it all off? Did you save me a lock? You look funny, like an egg.

You've woken me up and you're now lying beside me and smiling because you got away with cutting your hair.

Darling, the idea was to look like George Harrison (circa Abbey Road). Now you just look funny, like an egg. I will never forgive you.

But I do forgive you because you say, "You can pretend I'm 21 again and you can close your eyes and run your hand across my shaven head while we make love and it will be like before."

I close my eyes and it is like you said it would be.

Pajamas, Bandaid, Knight

No one has said a word and it's getting dark outside. The chicken is roasting and the car is getting vulcanized.

You move.

My white pajamas all white with tear in the knee. A bandaid.

If I move, it'll be the wrong one but I want to keep playing. To wait for the chicken to roast, the car to get vulcanized and my wound to become a scab then heal.

I move.

Then, it happens like I always knew it would.

You laugh and you move and and move and move and I try to say stop, it's my turn, that's not how we used to play, that's all wrong but I can't move my mouth so you keep laughing and moving and I try to move but my arm won't budge and my fingers won't budge and my wound it tickles and I can't even scratch it.

The chicken burns, the car explodes, my pajamas catch fire, you disappear.

I take a deep breath. I Tell myself, "move, move, move." Until finally, my body jerks forward, I grab my knight (the only piece left) and run outside and scream for help.

117th Steet

Mama says, "Trust me, it's easier to get to the Mall if you cut through this parking lot then cross 117th street."

It sounds so impossible. I haven't even heard of 117th street. It connotes chaos because it sounds like Divisoria's 168.

So I say, "Oh, I dunno Ma. Maybe I'll try that when I'm not in a hurry and when I'm wearing the right shoes."

But she insists and even walks me part of the way but then she has to leave.

"Remember, 117th street!"

Mama is right, who would've thought. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a street like this would exist in Ortigas. Floating neon signs, midgets, purple chickens, book shops and the smell of caramel in the air.

I see the Mall but linger on 117th street.

Excitement, Conspiracy, Love

When the rain poured and people who were partying in the streets came inside the hotel, a beautiful stranger pulled me aside for a kiss.

But there was too much jostling and an almost-stampede and we got separated but as I was making my way to my room, there he was again. Smiling and beckoning, "Here, follow me, come."

And I giggled from excitement, from conspiracy, from so much love.

He opened a door to the hotel's ballroom and we danced the waltz the whole night. There in that ballroom -- gold gilded everything, ceilings as high as the sky, and mirrors all around for me to watch the beautiful stranger and myself glide, glide, glide.

Just One, "Bang!"

I chase The Enemy into The Twilight Hotel. I'm wearing my new pink shoes so I don't run very fast but I know that I should've because he steps into the elevator and winks lecherously at me as the elevator slowly closes.

This is when David steps in -- literally out of nowhere. He's wearing a gangster suit and a gangster hat and with one lovely move of his gangster hand he stops the elevator doors from closing.

Wow, I think, that's so sexy.

And David lights a cigarette, just as he always does before a kill, before he pulls his gun. Then I hear it. Just one, "bang!"

EAF

We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control.

I turn cold when they tell me they have revoked my college degree because I failed to show up for Algeb101 that one term I was supposed to and to prove it they show me an old copy of my EAF. I explain to them that I have in fact completed my Algeb101 and that my grade was, uhm, a 1.0 but still I passed and that counts as completed, right? The very idea! After all these years! They could've talked to me about this ten years ago when I was still a student!

They say I don't understand. I must take it now before it's too late. They give me my EAF and say, "Here, read it carefully this time."

So, since I have no choice, I try to find that stupid class but I keep misreading the time, the room, the time, the room, the time, the room. I give up and wonder how to break it to my parents that I haven't graduated from college after all!

Going Up

We manage to outrun them and hide in his apartment. Paolo locks all the doors and I shut all the curtains. I peek outside. I see the men with guns split up -- some take the stairs and some the elevator. I am surprisingly not afraid. I know what to do.

I tell him, "They're on their way up. They've covered the stairs and the elevator. We must go up!"

But to my horror I see that someone has shot him with a tranquilizer gun. "Wake up!" I yell at him. "Move! Walk! I will never forgive you if we don't make it!"

Another needle comes flying past us and gets Forest. So I carry Forest and continue to yell instructions and threats at Paolo who moves like his bones are made of jello.

Up the stairs we go and into the building's penthouse where we see Ms Abiog.

"I've been waiting for you," she says, smiling.

"Oh dear," I think silently to myself, a sleeping dog in my arms and a sleeping husband at my feet.

Easier Than Sorry

She urges me to go on. She's crying as she says to me, "Go on, Camille, please."

The hanging bridge shakes as I take a step. To get to other side, Anna and I must brave the rain, cross this slippery bridge. And try to get along.

Everything is wet. And trembling.

She keeps talking to me about when we were young and I can barely hear her for the rain and the noise the bridge makes as it swings and shakes.

"Shut up," I hiss. "Please, shut up. I want you to know that I am just putting up with you. We'll reach the other side together but I never want to see you again."

The sky swirls like it wants to fall. But what falls is only more rain.

I start to think we might never make it but suddenly we're there. We're here.

Because I'm so relieved and because it's easier than "sorry", I pull her close for a wet, trembling kiss. For old times' sake.

Shroud

It's our biggest fight ever and I keep it up because I'm winning. Our beautiful furniture, our appliances -- everything downstairs is wrecked. So we move upstairs, to the next level and keep at it.

I throw all his shirts out the window. He breaks off the heels of my shoes. I smash his guitar. He slashes my pillows and goose down swirls around the room. I throw his Ipod in his face.

It looks like I've won but he goes to my dressing table, picks up my favorite bottle of perfume, opens it and pours the contents on the floor.

"Nooooooo!" I scream. I scream and scream.

Falling around me, goose down like snow. Around me too, the sweet smell of flowers embracing me like a shroud.

Shore

It's a giant banana boat and it looks sturdy enough not to capsize. Well, it doesn't capsize but my friend and I get thrown off. It's not so scary at first. In fact, we swallow so much sea water from all the laughing as we try to get back on the banana boat.

I'm gripped with a brilliant idea. Why not swim to shore? It looks far but with the two of us swimming, it would be fun. Like people in Amazing Race! Like a real adventure!

So we let go of the banana boat and start drifting.

The sea. I have to admit the shore isn't as close as it first seemed. We swim to a life bouy and hang on for a while. The banana boat is gone. The waves are getting bigger.

"Now what?" I turn to my friend but she's gone.

So I swim to shore but the tide keeps taking me further and further. At times I almost reach it, I almost touch it, but another tide comes and takes me far, far away.

Shawn

We grin at each other. He hands me a Ving card just as a crowd comes in. I'm so surprised that I drop it and to make sure no one sees it, I step closer to him to step on the Ving card. We're standing so close that I smell his hotel-laundered shirt.

We're both still grinning when he leaves me. It could've been just my imagination but when I move my foot, there it still is. I pick it up and stare at it for a while.

It takes me a long time to assess the situation.

Finally, I go to a secret place that harbors a secret drawer and add that Ving card to the many others that are there and make up my mind to pretend that those plastic keys don't exist.

In My Dreams

They spot me walking in Greenhills and they call out to me and we talk in a very polite and grownup way about our so-called lives.

"How's teaching?"

"How's photography?"

"What's it like being the operations manager of google? Manlibre ka naman."

I see Daddy at my far right make a gesture of impatience so I turn to him and say, "Daddy, maybe you can go ahead? I'll just stand and talk here a bit."

We wait until Daddy is out of sight before we burst out laughing and stop the grownup bullshit. And as if to acknowledge how ridiculous we've been acting they tickle me and punch each other and they take turns stroking my hair and then I take a step to hug either one of them but I stop myself because I realize it's important who I hug first and I'm not ready to make that kind of weird decision now.

These two boys. Look at them. Who would've predicted they'd turn out so nicely and we would all stand around and make bullshit small talk.

They sense my aborted embrace. Then to solve matters, David, always the pragmatic one, takes a step back and Teejay, beautiful Teejay, hugs me and whirls me like he does in my dreams.

Fiona, Wishing Well, Rain

The minute I see Fiona I tell her all about my class.

"It's a major's class, right? It's not like a typical gen ed literature class wherein I can just fly by some selections and watch movies whenever I don't feel like teaching and not care if they understand theory or not. I mean, these are literature majors! What's gonna happen if they end up taking their masters at UP and they're so full of shit and someone like Neil asks them. 'Who put all that crap in your head?' and they say, 'Why, our teached did, Camille Dela Rosa, that's who!' I'll be soooo fucked!"

Fiona laughs like she truly understands so I continue and monopolize the conversation some more.

"I've never felt so harassed in my life. Never. I've never worked so hard. Never!"

It starts to rain but we don't care. We walk outside the campus towards a wishing well and we look down it and she asks me, "Do you wanna be the first to make a wish?"

"Really? You don't mind? You're sucha friend! Okay here goes..." And I close my eyes and take a deep breath and start to formulate the wish. I learned from The Labyrinth that a wish had to start with "I wish" for it to be granted so I'm very careful. This is something I want very, very badly.

Beside me, I sense her feel around her pockets for a coin for me to drop.

But I don't need the coin.

I feel that it has come. The moment the planets are aligned in my favor and the universe is standing still, waiting for me, me, me and I stick my tongue out to taste the rain.

"I wish..." I jump in the well, bottomless like guilt.

Fiona's panicked voice seems far, far away, "You weren't supposed to throw yourself!"

"Sdeah rieht edih dna nur yeht semoc nair eht fI."

The Accident

I don't remember how long I've been married to him.

I don't remember marrying him at all.

But he seems nice enough. Lets me be. Gives me a shitload of money. Sometimes, at night, when we're sitting on our posh couch in our posh apartment watching TV and I happen to stare at him without him knowing it, I decide that he's cute.

We have his and hers bedrooms. Two master bedrooms which I wonder about. He asks me, "Don't you remember? You insisted on two master bedrooms." His and hers bathrooms. His and hers everything. His and hers lives.

After dinner he tells me about the accident I have forgotten. The accident that made me forget everything including who I was.

"Your friend Moe was driving." He pauses. "Do you remember Moe?" he asks.

"I don't."

He continues, "You were officemates and you were bound for work that night and Moe was driving very, very fast in spite of the rain. The car's wiper broke but he drove on because you said you didn't want to be late. Do you remember?"

"I don't."

"You hated being late..." and I see him try not to go into too many details.

"And then?"

"Um. That's it. You crashed into a truck and you were dead when you got to the hospital but then they brought you back to life."

"And my friend? Moe?"

"He didn't make it."

He senses my sadness and walks to his room to leave me alone.

I sit by myself for a long time and make up my mind about something.

When I am ready, I enter his room. I don't bother to knock. He's lying on the bed and sits up in surprise when I come in.

I look at him squarely as I disrobe.

G-Spot

I run up and down (down and up?) the stairs. People from below (above?) me shout, "Slow down! Slow down!" But I can't! It's too exciting.

They say, in this labyrinth, is a G-spot. G for God. The perfect prayer place. Anyone standing there while praying will get his or her prayers answered.

For real?

What shall I ask for? Will I ever find this spot?

I keep running. It doesn't matter. I'm so happy.

Raspberry Swirl

Things are getting desperate when the all the boys can't be men.

He finds me at my old desk and asks me to help him look for Nyanne.

We search the grounds until we find her and she tries to explain to me that it's late, that the school bus is going to leave without us, but before she gets any further, he goes up to her and yanks her panties down. Pink panties with yellow flowers.

I wonder what color mine are but as I am about to look under my skirt he takes my hand and we run away.

"Can you fly?" he asks me.

"Yes, of course," I say.

So we take off and fly over the roofs and we can hear people below us looking for us but since no one bothers to look up, no one finds us.

We land on a field of barley and daisies and he asks me, "Can I give you pleasure?"

"But you're just a boy!, " I say.

"How?" he insists. "I'd like to make you come."

"Well. Like this," I say, pulling my panties down.

He stares.

"See this?" I point. "Eat it. Go ahead, eat it like it's the most delicious candy you've ever tasted or better yet eat it like it's the first time you've ever eaten candy.

He lunges at me and I topple down.

"Stop. Go back. Crawl to me and beg."

So he crawls and begs me, "Let me eat you, let me eat you, please." And I'm so turned on and he reaches me and then tastes me and eats me until I come.

Concubine, Concubine

As the King's favorite concubine, I know certain things. I know that outside these walls, all Chinese children are being slaughtered like pigs. He tells it to me in detail so that I am able to see what goes on. The children first then the adults.

The Chinese community is thrown in confusion. All their dead children line the pavements. They are not buried; their stink allowed to weigh heavy around them like a shroud.

"Why kidnap them when I can kill them?"

"Do they smell like dimsum -- the Chinese, I mean -- when they're left to rot?"

"Like rotten dimsum." The King can't make up his mind who's funnier -- him or me.

Elephants stomp around the disheveled city just because the King thinks it would be a hilarious picture and I have to admit it kinda is.

The King and I huddle together in a naughty air of conspiracy. It's all a childish prank to him. With his one hand in between my legs and his other hand cupping his mouth to my ear, he tells me his other gruesome pranks. He set China town on fire because "it's so ugly and smelly." It was funny, he adds, to watch the little Chinese "peasants" run around speaking Chinese that "sounded ugly."

Something occurs to me. "Do you rape the women?"

"What for? Anyone I fuck will just like it."

His hand between my legs. I can't think. I can't follow his logic. I can't argue.

"Castro is coming to wage war on me. He loves the Chinese."

"Noli de Castro?"

"Fidel Castro. Hello! Let him come. Let him make his way to me."

Dead Chinese bodies will line the runway he lands on. Dead Chinese bodies will be the dimsum he eats. Dead Chinese bodies will make the incense to scent the air he breathes. Dead Chinese bodies will be the very streets he walks on.

"You're crazy," I tell him, "What makes you think he simply won't send a nuclear missile from Cuba?"

He laughs.

He lays me on the bed and starts fucking me.

"Concubine, concubine. My favorite, favorite concubine."

Gold Slippers

When TL and Bunny finally arrive, TL presents me with a no-reason present. Gold slippers! They fit exactly.

"Sabi sayo kasya!" Bunny says to TL.

"We were worried about the size," TL says.

"You know, I don't understand it myself but it appears my feet are growing! Weird! But these fit exactly. I love them! Thanks!"

The Good Pass

It's a coed retreat so it can't be St Scho but it sure looks like the St Scho retreat house in Tagaytay and there are 30 of us to a room -- boys and girls! We even have unisex bathrooms!

Everyday, a trainer teaches me how to play soccer. None of us have any of our old clothes so we're outfitted with all the clothes we'll ever need. I have all these cool Adidas sportswear in my closet. I get to wear a new combination everyday.

Our days are busy and the house gets pretty chaotic but even so our society, because that's what we've become, is peaceful like we know Big Brother is Watching.

Moe sleeps across from me. We don't talk. We don't even look at each other directly but I look when I think he doesn't notice and he looks when he thinks I don't notice. We've memorized each other's movements so we don't have to cross each other on the aisles between the beds or have to be in the unisex bathroom at the same time or have to eat together. Sometimes, it can't be helped that we're being trained together but even on the field we don't say a word to each other. No one can tell we were friends or that we even met before.

Moe and I are ever so civil like strangers are to one another. One day, playing on the field, the day he wore his blue jacket and me my white, I almost called out to him, "Here, here! Pass to me!" But I stopped myself but I think he understood anyway because he kicked the ball to me and I was so embarrassed that I botched the good pass.

That night, we followed our unspoken routine. We never crossed each other on the aisle, we never used the unisex at the same time. Right across from me, can you imagine? And not a word. I said to myself, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will set this right."

The next day he was gone. His bed was made. On my bed, beside my pillow was a package he left. Bric-a-brac, pictures of us, (returned) letters from me to him, letters he wrote to me.

I open one and start to read. "Dear Camille." I cry so much that I can't read anymore.

Then I hear the bell that means it's time to train so I leave the package there on my bed and soon forget about it. I even manage to convince myself that I was just dreaming. There was no Moe and no package. It was just a dream.

Masquerade

I've stumbled upon a masquerade. I'm not masked but when I look at what I'm wearing I'm surprised to see I'm wearing an odd green and white button-down ruffled combo. Ruffles, geez.

The strip of bars looks unfamiliar but I feel right at home and go from bar to bar, sipping my tea which everyone thinks is beer.

Since everyone is in a mask they think I'm in a mask as well. They think I'm someone else pretending to be Camille.

I remember looking at the nights at Ortigas. Empty streets. Traffic lights changing for nobody. A scene from a David Lynch movie.

This night redeems all those empty nights. There are tiangge strips, bars, clubs and concerts, amusment parks, wild rides, car races.

I stop at one stall to buy fish balls.

Nyanne's UST Friends

"Nyanne and Camille lived in their gingerbread house."
- Pax '95 (High School Year Book)

I'm driving Nyanne to a party. She won't say where and she won't say whose except to say, "Some friends from UST."

Since I don't know where we're going exactly, she gives me last minute instructions, "Turn right, right, right! Oh fuck, we missed it. Make a u-turn there, there, here!"

Soon, we find ourselves in Commonwealth (the end of the world) where the only familiar place to me is UP but we go past UP and I begin to suspect where we're going and start a harangue.

"No, Annie, no! I'm not driving you anywhere anymore! I know where we're going you can't trick me into going!"

But she finds the whole thing hilarious and I begin to feel the downside of having good manners because as much as I want to tell her to get out of the car, I just can't.

And my suspicions turn out to be correct because it's Moe's party and as I consider where and how to park, I also consider what to do about the situation. I decide, as we're walking to the party, to tell Nyanne some of the truth.

"See here, Annie, maselan na sitwasyon to."

"Maselan? How?"

"In a lot of ways I can't explain right now! Besides, I'm not even invited!"

But I've been spotted. Moe hands me a beer and tells me to sit anywhere but I'm too dumbfounded by everything that I just stand there with my beer.

Nyanne, meanwhile, goes across the street to a boy's dorm and starts flirting with everyone and I hear her laugh her really loud and hearty laugh, the only one that could match mine in high school, and I'm so envious because she's enjoying the night and I'm not.

I go around Moe's party and I find no one to laugh with, until Moe who is the host after all, takes pity on me and talks to me but it's so noisy that I can't hear what he's saying. I watch his mouth move, I watch his movements but I can't understand a thing he wants to tell me.

"Slow down! What? What are you saying?"

He begins again but I still don't understand anything.

So I give up. I walk back to the car and leave Nyanne in the boy's dorm.

The car makes a toot toot toot noise as I back up and check all my mirrors to see why. Why? I'm not going to hit anything! But it continues even more loudly toot toot toot and there really must have been something back there because I crash quite loudly. My head hits the steering wheel and I get knocked unconscious.

Dear Prudence

Training and Quality Office, 37th floor. Dim lights.

What's going on?

"Mermaid, I thought you resigned!"

"I did. I'm back. Pretty cool, huh?"

"But I thought I resigned as well! For good! Forever!"

"You must've been dreaming!"

It's too good to be true. Jill, Lovey, Jojo, Doods, Ariel, Me. Just us in our favorite room. We're all pooped from training and all talking quietly and laughing quietly and just taking advantage of each other's company before our Quality cousins come in and just burst with shrill chatter after the whole shift of just listening to all those boring calls.

I want to tell Jill, Lovey, Jojo, Doods and Ariel, "I really, really love you, you know?"

What's gonna happen if they find out I really resigned? Will I be escorted out of the building like the people who stole from company money?

All my passwords still work. My work station hasn't been touched. My headset is right here. I've never worn my ID but look, I'm wearing it now! Outside is... darkness. It's... night! I guess it's true. I'm back.

I should just keep printing these manuals before my passwords expire or before someone detects my presence and I'm called an impostor but, oh no, shit!

"Shit!"

"What?"

"The printer's not printing!"

"You'll have to print outside."

"Noooo!"

"It's simple! You can select the printer you want to print with, you know?"

"I know that! I'm not completely inane! I just don't want to step out to the colony! Please just let me stay in here! I don't want to leave! You might not be here when I get back! Please! I'm afraid! Things just change a lot around here and I don't want to lose you. And in my dreams I'm not going to be with you for long! Please!"

"Camille, we swear, we're not leaving this room."

So I go. Click, click, click, my shoes would say except that the floors are carpeted. So with my chin up I glide.

The colony is bigger than I remember. It stretches on and on. I hear the familiar drone of voices. I feel sick. But I carry on walking until I reach the printer and wait for my stuff to come out. Pages and pages of the training manual.

I'm so afraid. I wish it would finish printing already. All these people I love. Will I lose them? What will happen when I leave this place? Will we find a way to keep in touch and be friends? I'm scared!

To keep myself brave, I sing, "Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, such a lovely day. The sun is up, the sky is blue. It's beautiful and so are you."

Eventually, a heavy drowsiness overtakes me and I fall asleep.

Black Betty

Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)!
She's always ready (bam-ba-lam)!
She's so rock steady (bam-ba-lam)!
- Spiderbait, "Black Betty"

"We told you, remember, Camille? That you were going to play bass for us tonight? Spiderbait?"

"Fuck! I don't remember! I can't! I haven't learned it!"

"You'll just have to play your best because everyone's expecting you to play."

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I love Spiderbait. I won't do them justice."

"People don't know the song we're going to play. Just act really thrashy. Punk style, yeah?"

"Fuck. Death by Punk."

"Fuck this, fuck that. Why do keep saying that word?"

"Oh, 'fuck' is more than a word. It's my way of life." And suddenly I feel, fuck them, I will not only play "Black Betty" but the whole fucking Tonight Alright album and dedicate "Fucken Awesome" to myself. Is that done? Can rock stars dedicate songs to themselves? Henceforth, let it be said that I am the only rock star to dedicate songs to herself.

A miracle happens on stage. I've learned "Black Betty" and I'm thrashing and singing along to "bam-ba-lam." And my band mates were right -- no one notices if I've made up some parts of the song because I've forgotten the real notes. I feel like I am Black Betty. It's so glorious.

Death by Trance

What can I say? These massives are really massive.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, even though I mean "no" because I feel guilty about him wasting his $40 on a silly girl who can't appreciate a rave party. I can't help but make a biting remark, "I just hope your dancing skills have improved."

Massive chandeliers that give off different colors of light. Massive ferris wheels that spin you around to heighten your high. Massive bars. Massive stages. Massive stars.

Yes, because it's an outdoor rave party in the middle of San Francisco. Even though it's outdoors, it seems indoors because how else will those chandeliers hang. Unless... Am I drugged?

"Cams, keep up! I nearly lost you!"

"Fuck, I can't go on anymore. Death by Trance!"

"Trance? What are you talking about? This is my room."

I look around and see that he's right. We're in his room in his house in South Bay. I'm wearing my St Scho uniform. He's wearing his La Salle uniform. We're 10 years wiser but 10 years younger. We are before and after at the same time.

So I know because I remember. We've been fighting on the streets of South Bay. Me sitting on the sidewalk. Him giving a deranged soliloquy, pacing back and forth. Me thinking, "How can I help you if you push me away? Fuck you, say it! Tell me what I've already guessed! How dare you think that I don't know! How dare you treat me like a child!" And I remember him sitting beside me to cry which makes me cry too and then me thinking, "Maybe all we needed was a good cry."

"Just love me?"

"I do. You don't have to ask."

Did it really happen that way? Yes, yes, it did.

"Call Jill's house. They're waiting for me to come back. They might be worried." I say the exact words I said 10 years ago.

He steps out, exactly like he did ten years ago.

And I see everything with the voyeurism and hindsight of 10 years of wisdom and memory. I see him dial Jill's number and wait for her to pick up. I see Jill pick up the phone. I see him say, "She's with me. She's okay." I see Jill turn to the others - Nins, Chinx, TL - and say, "She's with him. She's okay." I see them give a collective sigh of relief. I see them lock the door that they were keeping unlocked for me. I see them turn off the lights.

And when he steps back into the room, exactly like he did ten years ago, I am asleep.

And it's with innocence he puts his arm around me and watches me sleep.

And it's with wisdom that I hurt because I know that this gesture of possession will be repeated, with different boys in different rooms, but no other gesture of love and possession will ever be as sweet and innocent as this first time.

Just Love Me

Maybe it helps you be a better friend if you've never been on Friendster.

Isn't this funny, my bad luck in elevators has transliterated to planes. I managed to ride the wrong one because here I am in China with no luggage, no passport, no currency. This is my ultimate Bridget Jones Moment.

But the beaches are beautiful. Maybe I can just pretend this is Boracay. Oh, forget it. There are too many Chinese. I wonder how you say, "Where can I get a Brazilian wax?" in Chinese.

I don't even have a bathing suit.

This man. This man transforms into anyone I want him to be. It's almost scary. We walk to his room which is just a shack ten other people share with him but they all complicitly step out to go to the beach when we enter. We look at each other, this anyman man, and giggle because really, we have nothing lascivious in mind. No, I lie. Lascivious is all I have in mind.

"Who do I transform you to now?"

We kiss.

"Who are you?"

I can't see. I try to figure out who he is, from the taste of his saliva, from the pressure of his lips, from the way he bites.

"Tell me who you are."

"Don't you recognize me? From Friendster?" He pulls me closer.

"I quit Friendster."

"Yes but you didn't quit me, did you?" He tugs at my hair. "You didn't, did you?"

"If I don't know who you are how will I know if I should love you or hate you?"

"Just love me," he says just as I take him inside me.

Suddenly I know who he is.

Messages

Oh, please, not the St Scho uniform again.

I sit at the back of the classroom and start messaging people in furious, desperate manner as being in classroom wearing a uniform makes me feel helpless and cut off from the world. I look at my phone. Oh my god. So many messages. I was so sure I answered these messages already! Remember sinking feeling of being in Ambergris and opening email to see 50 unread in inbox, all waiting for reply.

"Sunsh, you'll never believe it but am stuck, once again, in St Pain. Please rescue. Don't want to miss your birthday."

"Pao, I might be stuck here for some time. Please take care of Forest."

"Mama, test results on top of dining table. Please take to Dr. Lumibao. Particularly interested in reason am bruising."

"Kit, when is fucking deadline again?"

"Ricci, count me in. Text directions."

"Naj, I need a lawyer."

I know the rest of the students look at me suspiciously as cell phones are like, banned, and people who message in the middle of the school day are serious vigilantes, likened to the NPA. They're so young and gullible. I feel so smug. How can they not see that I am not one of them?

I keep sending messages until my phone's screen becomes blurry, until the keypad is almost destroyed but my unread messages keep growing exponentially, until my messages become more and more desperate.

New message. More? It's from Moe. "Waiting for you. Won't leave without you but hurry. Rest of them went ahead."

I'm so confused I can't even begin to reply.

"Do you think you can rescue --- " Clear message.

"I don't think I can --- " Clear message.

"I'm stuck in ---" Clear message.

"Sorry but --- " Clear message.

"Sorry for the delay. All very weird. Wait. Will be there shortly." Send.

Acting

Driving car. Drunk with Naj. Forgotten how to drive non-automatic car. Feet do not want to cooperate, stick feels heavy. Goodness I must concentrate because we have to rush back to St Scho to star in a school play. It dawns on me, we don't have to attend this thing, we're not students anymore, but the thought vanishes and I feel compelled to oblige.

Backstage. Wearing Queen costume. I don't even know my lines. Director says just go and pretend you know what you're doing. What? What does that mean? What does she mean by pretend?

Onstage. Sitting pretty like real Queen Camille I. Everyone else knows their lines. Never mind. Walk a little, fan myself a little. I guess I should just go ahead with normal stage business. Even Mama came to watch me, how funny!

Curtain call. What's going on? Why is the audience coming on stage? Why are they all bowing to me?

I turn Naj, "Are they bowing to me because I'm Queen Camille I?"

"No, fool. They're bowing because they've been performing for you! They were acting like an audience. Gets?"

"That's hilarious! What an original idea! I guess I should clap then! Clap with me Naj! Not like that, fool! With one hand steady and the other's fingers tapping the steady palm --- like a lady, like we were taught in school!"

Superior Hostess

Your emergency's about to end.
Earlier this evening on your bed.
- Possum Dixon, "Emergency"

Chapter 1

Slumber party! The whole house to myself and my guests! It's a dream come true!

At first I was concerned about the condition of the house because it's been empty for so long but everything is in tip-top shape. Excellent.

I get to keep my old blue room, of course. The guests get to pick from the other rooms.

Sunshine takes Cheng's room. Good choice, Sunsh. Big airy room with two views - one of the courtyard.

My UP friends (Kit, Kath, Abi, LaVerne) take Sockie's room since there are more of them and that room has more beds.

Where to put my barkada? Oh, the library! That has its own bathroom too! Everything is fine. Lalalala.

Moe gets the upstairs master's bedroom. The master's bedroom! That room has two views as well! Wait a minute! Oh, okay, whatever. At least he gets his own bathroom and doesn't have to share with the girls.

More people are coming! Wee! Will just open up more rooms.

Feeling very much like superior type of hostess. People will say, "That Camille throws the best slumber parties!" Heehee.

"Hey! Come in! So glad you could come!" Beso, beso. Move on to next guest. "Hey... Tina?"

Blink, blink. Now how did she happen to be invited?

"Umm. Moe invited me. Can I stay?"

It only takes me a second of hesitation to earn a lifetime of guilt for being inhospitable and I fall over myself trying to make up for it.

"Yes. Yes! Come in! Certainly!" Weirdly enough I don't want to hurt her feelings. Her feelings!

It doesn't seem enough of an act of contrition so I say, "Look, you get the best room in the house!"

And before I can stop myself I've led her to the downstairs master bedroom. Auntie Nieves' room! The one with the best two views. The one with high ceilings! The one beside the bush of rosal whose flowers make the room so fragrant. The one with the walk in closet! I look at Tina's clothes and think she doesn't deserve a walk in closet and for a second want to tell her, "Don't go in there! Don't go in that room! It's my favorite!" But I am a superior hostess and god damn me if I am rude to my guests.

I settle her in and sit outside her room. I'm so envious. Am I selfish? Begrudging her a short stay in my favorite room? It's just that she's so lukcy. She's so lucky. This master bedroom comes with a master suite. It has a little common room and an extra room. It comes with so many perks! Sigh. Lucky, lucky Tina.

And hello?!? Who is this woman sitting in the extra room in the master suite? I swear next time must hire bouncer.

I inhale and do recite my mantra in my head. "Superior hostess. Superior hostess. Superior hostess."

Then Tina pops out. "Camille? I forgot to tell you. I brought my Mother. Ma, meet Camille, our gracious, superior hostess."

Chapter 2

Stupid fuck! Gracious, superior hostess indeed!

Must find Moe. What's this? Mothers? What kind of slumber party is this? Will never forgive him. Never can ever! Why am I mad at him? Why? Because I cannot get mad at Tina, that's why! Because I cannot get mad at the old lady who is her mother, that's why! This one is on him! Damn him!

Where are my cigarettes?

I confront him in the upstairs master bedroom and it hits me that him and Tina have one master bedroom each and that just makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

"I cannot believe it! You brought her and she brought her mother! You didn't even bother to ask me! This is my house!"

"Her mother? Has she come? Where is she?"

"Oh, don't worry. I settled her in. She and Tina are staying in the master suite with Tina in the master bedroom! How did it happen that you and Tina get the best rooms!"

"Fine. Take this room! Tina and I will share. She'll share with me, generous, sweet, perfect girl that she is."

Ouch. "GO AHEAD TRAITOR!" Ang sakit talaga!

"Who are you calling a traitor? You're an infidel! Evil Cam-evil! What made you think I could ever take you seriously? You're a bad person and a terrible hostess!"

"Ohhhh, fuck it! Fuck you! Fuck the world! I am a superior hostess and will continue being a superior hostess and attend to my other guests but we're not done here!"

"Oh, yes we are! We were done long ago!"

Chapter 3

Dinner. Tired. Now how can it be that I can't find a seat in my own house?

Ah, there, Moe. Never mind if we parted in a sour, bruttish fashion. Must make up now and share a table.

But as I'm making my way, he spots me and as if to not make me come any closer, he stands up hastily and prepares to give a speech and for a while I smile thinking he will repeat his welcome-to-MCI speech just to make me laugh but he announces his engagement to Tina and I see that they've been sitting beside each other all this time. Engagement! That's why she brought her mother! Fuck me, why didn't I see this coming?

Everyone stands up to clap and cheer and I'm standing there holding my plate, holding my breath, holding my tears.

"Superior hostess. Superior hostess. Superior hostess." No, it's no good. It's not working.

I start to cry. Never mind. No one is looking at me anyway.

Hay, Moe. You do what you have to do.

Good bye guests. Good bye my room with my postcards on the walls and my dolls on shelves. Good bye house. I thought this time I could keep you.

No one notices me put my plate down on the nearest table, leave the room, walk out of my own house and disappear.

No Point

We're being bombed. St Scho is a relocation center and I'm put together with thousands of strangers. Bombs drop left and right. The ground rocks. The walls crack. The ceiling comes crashing. We scamper right and left.

I think of Forest. He's so dumb and helpless. I shouldn't have left him in our house to die with Paolo. Forest wouldn't understand it when a bomb comes for him. He's so silly. We could've made it, the two of us, running and hiding. I wouldn't even take anything in my bag except his food.

I leave the crowd. I need to be alone. There's no point to life.

I take a moment to remember him, my baby Forest. The way he'd jump at me when I'd walk in the door. The way he'd wake me up or cuddle beside me at night. The way we'd play hide and seek, me pretending not to see him, "Where's Forest? Forest, why did you leave Mommy?" and his tail going "tak, tak, tak" and he's so stupid to think I don't see him and then I'll pretend to cry and then he'll emerge from his hiding place to jump on me and lick my face, all this time squirming from delight thinking he played a really good joke on me.

It's the most fortunate blessing to be loved by a dog.

Oh, Forest. I love you. I hope it didn't hurt for you.

The building in front of me has caught fire. I walk towards it slowly until I disappear into the fire.

Crossing the Ocean

We're to cross the ocean on nothing but tiny boats that fit one person. There are four of us adults, a baby and four boats.

John is the only boy and first in command and he's the crummiest, dumbest boss I've ever worked with.

His first blunder: Forcing us to leave before we were ready. We were only wearing our bathing suits that didn't help us against the cold. The baby was assigned to me. I almost dropped it in the water thrice!

His second blunder: Making us set sail when it was high tide. When we were no further than 20 feet into the ocean the tide brought us in.

His third blunder: Ordering us to rest by the shore once the tide brought us in. I saw huge waves coming in and yelled, "Run!" and we all scampered to higher ground.

John was once again giving orders once we had settled down but I shut him up and took over. I ordered the girls to get us proper ocean wear (giving specific instructions as to the kind of bathing suit I want to wear under the outer suit.) Then I find the baby some milk.

The water is soon so calm. Not a ripple in sight. I decide we need to set sail. I assign the baby to someone else and tell John and I don't to hear a squeak out of him. We move along the water. (I love my outfit!) We keep sailing and I'm so happy but at the same time so frightened because there's nothing in sight but the ocean.

Pixie and Pony

"Best friends?" Pony says. "We are sisters," Pony says.
- From "Pixie and Pony" by Francesca Lia Block

We're Sunshine and Camille. We're also Pixie and Pony. We're not exactly sure if St. Pain is the bubble gum / film noir, vintage / ultramodern, starstruck Los Angeles of Block's work but today we're on a mission.

Before we even get to talk about strategy the students come down to the quadrangle and I'm literally engulfed by a sea of blue and white uniforms smelling as if they just came from PE.

Then Tina comes up to me to tell me that we have to leave as the whole institution is having Mass and that strangers are not allowed.

They caught us, I realize, so I say, "Okay, we're leaving."

Sunshine and I look at each other in disbelief and on our way out we dissect just what happened.

"Who would think Tina could do this to us?"

"She was always nice to us!"

"I was expecting Juliet to pounce upon us, honestly, but not Tina!"

"God, what's wrong with these secretaries?"

"Tina has lost it."

"Totally."

"Juliet's influence."

"Do you notice how secretaries have strange names?"

"I think people with certain names are destined to become secretaries. Don't you think?"

"I can imagine a Juliet and a Tina doing secretarial things."

"Juliet, Tina. Joo-leeh-et. Tee-nah. Hahaha."

"There's another Juliet in UP. Hahaha."

"Right, really sungit too. Hahaha!"

"I know an Annabel and a Maricel. Hahaha!"

"I know a Maritess. Hahaha!"

"And what about us? Camille and Sunshine? Pixie and Pony?"

"We're not secretaries! We're sisters!"

The Orchestra Pit and The Game of Tetris

Sunshine and I are judges and the only audience of this lavish St. Pain student production. What can I say, it's far better than any school production I've ever seen. The ambience of St. Cecilia's hall lends the whole thing some professionalism.

This tiny girl, Joanna (and I don't even remember having her as a student), makes a big entrance but misses the X spot marked for her on the stage and bounces off the big props and disappears down the orchestra pit --- the same pit I almost fell into years ago. We're all stunned into silence. It's so quiet that we hear her bones crack as she lands.

Could the pit really be that deep?

"Oh my God!" I scream and while I run to the pit I call out to the class president, "Chukis, run to the clinic! Run! Tell them we need an ambulance!"

"Sunshine? Sunshine?" Sunshine has disappeared.

By the time I get to the orchestra pit, the whole class is there and I see someone stroking Joanna's leg, trying to get her to move.

"Don't touch her! Don't move her!" There's so much crying and wailing and I myself want to start crying but I feel that as a teacher I must keep my composure.

"Everbody move away from her. Everyone except you, Balot. You can stay beside her and keep talking to her."

The pit clears and I see Joanna's broken face for the first time.

Bloody. Cracked into several pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle. Limbs twisted like gnarled branches.

I realize how tiny she really is. How tiny and broken. Like Barbie having a bad hair day.

I am unable to speak nor cry.

(At the next issue of The Blue Flame, an editorial will comment on my lack of tears and they will interpret my shock as unfeelingness.)

***

I want to say I'm sorry.

If you think that I could be forgiven. Wish you would.

I look at him from afar and practice my apology in my head but before I gather enough of myself he calls out to me, "Come, Camille and watch me play Tetris."

I come up to him from behind and watch. Nothing else is said.

I can't remember the last thing that you said to me as you were leaving. Now the days go by so fast.

To be able to follow the game more closely, I bend and rest my chin on his right shoulder. And he doesn't flinch so perhaps I have been forgiven.

I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass.

And this is the only tender moment we share. Me and this nameless, faceless man who has yet to tell me I have been forgiven.

Returned

I've been returned.

"What am I going to do with you now?" Mama asks.

"Give me my inheritance, Ma, and I promise to never cause trouble again."

To my surprise, Mama gives me a house and lots of money. I may be disgraced but at least I'm still rich.

It gets lonely and on my first night alone I call Paolo.

"This is ridiculous. Take me back or else!"

Silence. I wonder what's taking him so long to say, "Okay."

All the World Drops Dead

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

"Camille!"

I realize I've been mumbling Sylvia Plath. I take a deep breath and look around. It's all dark and fuzzy at first but soon I begin to see.

Around me are evidence of a plane crash. Pieces of metal still steaming with heat. Luggage. Severed limbs. Blood.

It's beautiful beyond the grounds that are dirtied by signs of the crash. Blue ocean. White sand. Coconut trees. Fruit waiting to be picked.

The voice again, "Camille!"

I ignore it and start to search for survivors but find nothing but limbs that don't have bodies, bodies that don't have faces and soon I scream from frustration.

I scream until the voice comes again. Urgently this time, "Camille!"

I try to locate its source as all world drops dead.

Science Experiment and Super Mario Top Score

Huddled on the floor of the science room. Late afternoon. Wearing St Scho uniforms in different stages of untidiness.

Normie: It's genius. We'll have to go through with it.

Nyanne: I can't believe nobody's ever thought of this before. We'll be famous.

Camille: Who gets to be IT?

Normie: We draw straws. [Holds up 3 straws. The three of them draw then compare.]

Camille: Shit. [Slumps on the floor and theatrically covers her eyes with her arm.]

Normie: Take this. [Gives Camille a bottle.] Rub a substantial amount of lotion on your nipples and wait for them to disappear.

Camille: [Sadly.] What if they do?

Nyanne: Then it means our formula for disappearing nipples works! Imagine that, you can rub away your nipples.

Camille: But I like mine! I don't want to be the girl without nipples! That's worse than having three!

Normie: I promise you, it's worth it.

Camille: What if I'm allergic to this thing? How cruel of you to not even check.

Nyanne: We'll check now. [Takes some of the lotion and rubs it on Camille's forearm. The three of them just stare for a minute or so.]

Normie: Nothing.

Nyanne: Nothing, I told you.

Camille gets up and goes to the bathroom and locks herself in a stall. She then dunks the lotion in the toilet bowl and waits. Soon she returns to join Normie and Nyanne.

Normie and Nyanne: Well?

Camille: That stuff doesn't work. [Normie and Nyanne peer at her breasts from her neckline.]

Normie: I was so sure!

Nyanne looks at Camille suspiciously but Camille just smiles, happy that she still has her nipples.

***

It's our bedroom minus the walls and the ceiling. Paolo is fast asleep but I nudge him and say, "Water, please." He doesn't wake up, not tonight.

I stand and go the the water pump and wait my turn because there's someone else getting water. Paolo wakes up and sees me, "Camille! Come back! Come back!"

I'm so frightened by his voice and the look on his face that I run and jump back into bed.

He says, "Have you got no sense at all? Look!"

I look and see that the person getting water has turned around and has revealed himself to be a monster.

The monster changes shape several times. First he's a horse that bares all its teeth. Then a transparent labrador who shows his fangs. Then a monster in green with a ghoulish face.

The monster starts moving closer to us. I try to say my prayers but I have forgotten them. I make the sign of the cross but the monster mimics me and makes the sign of the cross too. I knew it, I knew religion would never come through for me.

I peer at the monster. Why, he's just a little boy. I lunge forward and wring his neck. He laughs and sticks his tongue out. His eyes roll around and around.

"What do you want?" I ask.

He cackles like a witch and his eyes pop out and I from the empty sockets I can see his brains.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT? TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!"

Finally he says, "I would like to beat your Super Mario top score you evil, evil, evil Cam-evil bitch!"

The God of Calvin and The Presidential Limousine

She thinks she is providence... She thinks she is the God of Calvin, she sees the beginning and the end.

What people don't realize about being the Messiah is that mere presence is enough to save.

What's even more ironic is that nobody needs saving. We've all been saved already.

So I'd rather be providence, the God of Calvin or the Messiah than someone always pathetically crying out to be saved.

***

Because the Philippines is in a State of Emergency, I'm wary to attend class all the way to UP. But Gloria Macapagal Arroyo herself gives me a ride.

I'm sitting beside her on the back of the Presidential Limousine and she talks about her family. I ask her, "Do they always support your crazy schemes?"

Pretty soon I start feeling guilty. I know why she's giving me a ride. She knows I want to be president. She knows I wish her dead.

I draw a breath and concentrate on small talk.

"Doesn't it feel like summer?"

She doesn't only drop me off at UP. She walks me to class. It's such a hassle, walking beside this small tiresome woman, who won't leave me alone. We meet Butch Dalisay on the way to my class room and I feel obliged to make the introductions.

Soon afterwards, Gloria leaves me alone and as much as I hate her, I wish I arranged for her to lend me her car so I could have a safe ride home.

Lost in a Beautiful Hotel

It's a beautiful hotel. The place isn't lighted by artificial lights but by real sunlight and I around to try to find its source.

Teejay is carrying a drink that looks like Scotch and he's trying to find somewhere we can sit so he can enjoy his drink but I'm getting tired of walking. I ask, "Why don't we just sit in your room as I still can't find mine?"

He gives me a little smile like I had just propositioned him.

"Oh please, Teejay! It's not what you think!" but I myself am flustered and he's still wearing that smile.

I've been waiting for this moment to be able to talk to him but for some reason I can't bring myself to say what I really want to say. So we keep walking.

We reach the outside of the hotel where the light is even more dazzling. The swimming pool is as big as an ocean. There are gigantic slides as tall as skyscrapers. And an ferris wheel in the middle of the water. The whole place smells like cotton candy and barbeque - like a school fair.

I stumble and try to keep up with Teejay who's walking too fast. "Teej, wait! Teej, please, I can't walk fast enough. Antonio!" But he keeps walking and soon he's out of sight.

I hate myself for letting my opportunity pass.

It's quiet inside the elevator and I sadly try to decipher what room number is written on my key. Nothing is going according to plan. What am I even doing in this hotel? Where am I? "Tomorrow," I resolve, "Tomorrow I will find him and tell him."

The elevator shakes and parts of it fall apart and I dodge the screws, bolts and nails that rain on me. The doors open to a floor of a different hotel. "Oh, no," I think, "not again."

I will never find him.