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!"
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Carinderia, Ball Room, Gym
Mama left me to myself to wander through divisoria. I protest, "Mama, hold my hand! I feel like getting lost!" But she has disappeared.
So I look around. I consider buying a beautiful pair of shoes but more and more things for sale keep catching my eye and I walk on and on. In the middle of the chaotic market, like an oasis, is a Marc Jacobs outlet. I gasp. I go to it and it even smells like America! I'm so excited that I riffle through the clothes but I'm so dissapointed that there's not a single clothing article that I like.
Finding my way out, I see Daddy and Mama eating at a small carinderia. I join them and look so desolate because the place is so tiny and hot and fly infested. Mama asks me, "Why don't you eat something? Too good for this now, Miss Priss? What happened to my daughter who would eat anything anywhere?"
"Oh, I dunno Ma. She died. This isn't her anymore."
***
I'm at a party in one of Discovery Hotel's ball rooms. I'm wearing a pink silk puffy gown that makes me look like Cinderella. In the other ball room next to the one I'm at is another party that's just breaking up. I see Jackie Arellano and we compare notes about our respective parties. Most of what she's saying gets drowned out by the noise around us. But something she says hits me hard and clear, "Teejay was asking about you."
I pause and remind myself to breathe. Breathe, Camille, breathe. Act normal. Say something. "Really now."
"He says you went to each other's graduation balls. And wrote each other letters."
"Hmm. Yes. Ten years ago, imagine." Breathe, Camille, breathe.
"He's still in the ball room, you know. Down the stairs, through the narrow corridor, right turn, left turn, straight ahead. So are you going?"
"I don't know. Maybe later. Maybe not."
"Alright. Nice talking to you again." Beso, beso.
As soon as Jackie's out of sight, I turn and run. Down the stairs, through the narrow corridor, right turn, left turn, straight ahead. My pink gown gets torn, my hair comes undone. I try to compose my speech to him. "Teejay, I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I only found out last Saturday through Arcy of all people! For ten years nobody told me. You should've told me! If I had only known then things would've been different! Because it's only now that I realize... I realize... things. So until you tell me it's okay, until you tell me you've forgiven me, until you explain to me what you were thinking, until you lift this curse, I will keep hurting those I love and I will never, never find peace."
And I enter the room and I realize that I've been tricked. This isn't a ball room. It's a mausoleum and I'm trapped and it's getting harder and harder to take in some air and I realize that it's only a matter of time before I die.
***
This is the sossy-iest gym I've ever been to. It looks like a palace. Moe asks me, "Why are you wearing those ridiculous green jogging pants?" I laugh.
"Surely, they're not that ridiculous? Oh, come on, after all it's just a PE uniform! You're way too harsh!"
As soon as I say that I turn cold and realize I'm back in college. True enough, I see April, Estee, and Kathleen all wearing ridiculous looking green jogging pants and ugly PE shirts.
They don't know what's happened. That we're back in time. That I've seen the future, their future, everyone's future!
"Come, Cami, have Moe take a picture of us!"
The four of us smile, like before, like nothing has happened, like we will forever be the four cutest, perkiest girls ever, who hate badminton but will play gracefully anyway, who are heartbroken but will smile, who can have any boy we want except the ones we truly love.
After the pictorial, we pair up to play badminton, and I end up with April exactly like I should. But she plays differently this time or is it me playing differently? I can't seem to focus on the shuttle cock. It isn't a shuttle cock! It's a bullet! And before I find the sense to dodge it, it hits me in the heart and I fall on the floor.
The palace is just a regular gym now. Everyone else is gone and I'm still wearing my ridiculous green jogging pants and although I don't feel any pain, I feel very, very tired.
Moe comes to me, craddles me and doesn't let me go until I die.
So I look around. I consider buying a beautiful pair of shoes but more and more things for sale keep catching my eye and I walk on and on. In the middle of the chaotic market, like an oasis, is a Marc Jacobs outlet. I gasp. I go to it and it even smells like America! I'm so excited that I riffle through the clothes but I'm so dissapointed that there's not a single clothing article that I like.
Finding my way out, I see Daddy and Mama eating at a small carinderia. I join them and look so desolate because the place is so tiny and hot and fly infested. Mama asks me, "Why don't you eat something? Too good for this now, Miss Priss? What happened to my daughter who would eat anything anywhere?"
"Oh, I dunno Ma. She died. This isn't her anymore."
***
I'm at a party in one of Discovery Hotel's ball rooms. I'm wearing a pink silk puffy gown that makes me look like Cinderella. In the other ball room next to the one I'm at is another party that's just breaking up. I see Jackie Arellano and we compare notes about our respective parties. Most of what she's saying gets drowned out by the noise around us. But something she says hits me hard and clear, "Teejay was asking about you."
I pause and remind myself to breathe. Breathe, Camille, breathe. Act normal. Say something. "Really now."
"He says you went to each other's graduation balls. And wrote each other letters."
"Hmm. Yes. Ten years ago, imagine." Breathe, Camille, breathe.
"He's still in the ball room, you know. Down the stairs, through the narrow corridor, right turn, left turn, straight ahead. So are you going?"
"I don't know. Maybe later. Maybe not."
"Alright. Nice talking to you again." Beso, beso.
As soon as Jackie's out of sight, I turn and run. Down the stairs, through the narrow corridor, right turn, left turn, straight ahead. My pink gown gets torn, my hair comes undone. I try to compose my speech to him. "Teejay, I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I only found out last Saturday through Arcy of all people! For ten years nobody told me. You should've told me! If I had only known then things would've been different! Because it's only now that I realize... I realize... things. So until you tell me it's okay, until you tell me you've forgiven me, until you explain to me what you were thinking, until you lift this curse, I will keep hurting those I love and I will never, never find peace."
And I enter the room and I realize that I've been tricked. This isn't a ball room. It's a mausoleum and I'm trapped and it's getting harder and harder to take in some air and I realize that it's only a matter of time before I die.
***
This is the sossy-iest gym I've ever been to. It looks like a palace. Moe asks me, "Why are you wearing those ridiculous green jogging pants?" I laugh.
"Surely, they're not that ridiculous? Oh, come on, after all it's just a PE uniform! You're way too harsh!"
As soon as I say that I turn cold and realize I'm back in college. True enough, I see April, Estee, and Kathleen all wearing ridiculous looking green jogging pants and ugly PE shirts.
They don't know what's happened. That we're back in time. That I've seen the future, their future, everyone's future!
"Come, Cami, have Moe take a picture of us!"
The four of us smile, like before, like nothing has happened, like we will forever be the four cutest, perkiest girls ever, who hate badminton but will play gracefully anyway, who are heartbroken but will smile, who can have any boy we want except the ones we truly love.
After the pictorial, we pair up to play badminton, and I end up with April exactly like I should. But she plays differently this time or is it me playing differently? I can't seem to focus on the shuttle cock. It isn't a shuttle cock! It's a bullet! And before I find the sense to dodge it, it hits me in the heart and I fall on the floor.
The palace is just a regular gym now. Everyone else is gone and I'm still wearing my ridiculous green jogging pants and although I don't feel any pain, I feel very, very tired.
Moe comes to me, craddles me and doesn't let me go until I die.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Buri, Flash Flood, The Rose People
If there's one person who's more paranoid than I am it has to be Nyanne.
She won't give up giving me the third degree.
"Who came here with my past?"
"Sorry, Annie, but I really don't understand the question!"
"Who came to tell you about me?"
"Well. If you must know... Nobody! Nobody comes here asking for you, okay?"
Talk about stress!
I ask her if I can use the bathroom. I take a long shower. What is the word to describe what I feel? What is that word?
It comes to me. "Buri." The word is "buri." And this makes me smile and shout, "Diega!"
***
There's a flash flood on my way home. The water on the street goes up to my waist. I look around trying to figure out where I am. I dodge abandoned cars that are floating around. I worry about people who must be worrying about me. I wish I had told someone where I was going. What if I get lost? No one will even know I'm missing.
I'm getting tired, dodging cars and walking through the flooded streets. I grab on to what remains of a fence and rest. I look up at the sky and am startled to see how clear and blue it is.
***
The Rose People live in a land that can be reached by drowning yourself in the ocean at the end of the world.
Once you reach their land, your senses will be assaulted by colors that are yet unnamed and smells that don't dissipate.
The Rose People are a peaceful and shy people. They're shinning brown and limbre and love to sing. They get their name from their unusual mating habits:
Everyday, they converge by a stream with water that tastes like roses. This water flows from one end to another and the smell of roses gives the air a heavy intensity. The women stand on one end of the stream, the men on the other and they wait for the water to flow in two directions, from opposite ends to meet in a whirpool in the middle of the stream.
They squeal as soon as this happens and one at a time, scrupulously taking turns, a man from one end and a woman from another end jump into the water and are carried to the center where they disappear into the whirlpool.
Surrounded by nothing but water, holding their breaths, they make love until the woman is impregnated. There are cheers each time a couple emerges.
Sadly, one time a copulation was interrupted. The couple emerged disgruntled and the woman had a baby's hand, no bigger than a thimble, sticking out of her belly.
She won't give up giving me the third degree.
"Who came here with my past?"
"Sorry, Annie, but I really don't understand the question!"
"Who came to tell you about me?"
"Well. If you must know... Nobody! Nobody comes here asking for you, okay?"
Talk about stress!
I ask her if I can use the bathroom. I take a long shower. What is the word to describe what I feel? What is that word?
It comes to me. "Buri." The word is "buri." And this makes me smile and shout, "Diega!"
***
There's a flash flood on my way home. The water on the street goes up to my waist. I look around trying to figure out where I am. I dodge abandoned cars that are floating around. I worry about people who must be worrying about me. I wish I had told someone where I was going. What if I get lost? No one will even know I'm missing.
I'm getting tired, dodging cars and walking through the flooded streets. I grab on to what remains of a fence and rest. I look up at the sky and am startled to see how clear and blue it is.
***
The Rose People live in a land that can be reached by drowning yourself in the ocean at the end of the world.
Once you reach their land, your senses will be assaulted by colors that are yet unnamed and smells that don't dissipate.
The Rose People are a peaceful and shy people. They're shinning brown and limbre and love to sing. They get their name from their unusual mating habits:
Everyday, they converge by a stream with water that tastes like roses. This water flows from one end to another and the smell of roses gives the air a heavy intensity. The women stand on one end of the stream, the men on the other and they wait for the water to flow in two directions, from opposite ends to meet in a whirpool in the middle of the stream.
They squeal as soon as this happens and one at a time, scrupulously taking turns, a man from one end and a woman from another end jump into the water and are carried to the center where they disappear into the whirlpool.
Surrounded by nothing but water, holding their breaths, they make love until the woman is impregnated. There are cheers each time a couple emerges.
Sadly, one time a copulation was interrupted. The couple emerged disgruntled and the woman had a baby's hand, no bigger than a thimble, sticking out of her belly.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Magic in the Air
"Which city would you like to visit, Camille?"
"New York."
"Why?"
"I didn't know I had to explain."
"Okay. Fine. You leave as soon as you finish packing."
I know I only lived in New York for a year and that was way back to even count. But my first memories are New York memories. Daddy carrying me on the subway, his one arm carrying me, his other hand holding on to the rail to steady us. Going with Mama to the grocery in front of our apartment. The Italian ice cream shop below our apartment. The smell of tire tracks on the streets. Learning how to chew bubble gum without swallowing it. Learning to tie my shoelaces. Eating only green M&M's. Getting my finger stuck inside a semi-open can. And finally leaving New York to go on a road trip to Minnesota. New York Memories. I remember, I remember.
It's time to go back. My first stop is the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then the bookstores and then see if that ice cream shop is still there and maybe the owner will still think I'm cute enough to give me a free scoop like he used to.
They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway. They say there's always magic in the air.
I rush to my room and open an empty suitcase. I look inside the closets but nothing's fit to pack. I can't find the clothes I want to bring. I don't even recognize the clothes. The clothes fall to the floor. I pick then up and try to take a good look at them but they slip out of my hands. I glance at the empty suitcase and start to panic. Oh no. Oh no. I know I have that beautiful winter coat I bought in Hong Kong on a whim. Where is that? Where are my jeans? I can't even find my jeans! Shit, please, please, let me pack, please let me go back to New York.
Please. Please. Please.
"New York."
"Why?"
"I didn't know I had to explain."
"Okay. Fine. You leave as soon as you finish packing."
I know I only lived in New York for a year and that was way back to even count. But my first memories are New York memories. Daddy carrying me on the subway, his one arm carrying me, his other hand holding on to the rail to steady us. Going with Mama to the grocery in front of our apartment. The Italian ice cream shop below our apartment. The smell of tire tracks on the streets. Learning how to chew bubble gum without swallowing it. Learning to tie my shoelaces. Eating only green M&M's. Getting my finger stuck inside a semi-open can. And finally leaving New York to go on a road trip to Minnesota. New York Memories. I remember, I remember.
It's time to go back. My first stop is the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then the bookstores and then see if that ice cream shop is still there and maybe the owner will still think I'm cute enough to give me a free scoop like he used to.
They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway. They say there's always magic in the air.
I rush to my room and open an empty suitcase. I look inside the closets but nothing's fit to pack. I can't find the clothes I want to bring. I don't even recognize the clothes. The clothes fall to the floor. I pick then up and try to take a good look at them but they slip out of my hands. I glance at the empty suitcase and start to panic. Oh no. Oh no. I know I have that beautiful winter coat I bought in Hong Kong on a whim. Where is that? Where are my jeans? I can't even find my jeans! Shit, please, please, let me pack, please let me go back to New York.
Please. Please. Please.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Film Noir
"Yuck, Rom, what are you doing here? Shoo fly!"
No, of course, that's not what I say out loud and for a second I wish I could forget my breeding and say something really nasty and act ill-mannered but I say, "Oh, hi," with my voice leveled but icy with suppressed disdain.
Just his presence oppresses me! I have to endure sitting beside him until this racket outside this building dies down.
I see some chairs stacked in the corner of the room and start moving them towards the window so I can escape but each chair I drag to the window drags itself back to the corner and soon I'm exhausted.
When I get home Paolo asks me, "Where'd you come from?"
"Nowhere."
"Where?"
"Nowhere."
"WHERE?"
"NOWHERE!"
He takes out pictures from a manila envelope anonymously mailed to him.
We're in a pre-internet spy movie. Everything is in shadows. Film noir.
He throws the pictures on the floor and I pick them up and see me and Rom in bed. Even the pictures are black and white. It's obviously not me. How can anyone make that mistake?
I throw them back at him.
"You're disgusting! This was set up! It's an insult that you could believe I would sleep with him! I never even touched that asshole! This is a hoax!"
The very idea of me touching that jerk! I'm so angry that I begin to upturn all the furniture in the room. I start with the dinning table then the sofa then all the chairs and coffee tables. I throw the electric fan out the window and pieces of shattered glass fall all over the place.
The last thing I see before I die is the chandelier coming towards me.
No, of course, that's not what I say out loud and for a second I wish I could forget my breeding and say something really nasty and act ill-mannered but I say, "Oh, hi," with my voice leveled but icy with suppressed disdain.
Just his presence oppresses me! I have to endure sitting beside him until this racket outside this building dies down.
I see some chairs stacked in the corner of the room and start moving them towards the window so I can escape but each chair I drag to the window drags itself back to the corner and soon I'm exhausted.
When I get home Paolo asks me, "Where'd you come from?"
"Nowhere."
"Where?"
"Nowhere."
"WHERE?"
"NOWHERE!"
He takes out pictures from a manila envelope anonymously mailed to him.
We're in a pre-internet spy movie. Everything is in shadows. Film noir.
He throws the pictures on the floor and I pick them up and see me and Rom in bed. Even the pictures are black and white. It's obviously not me. How can anyone make that mistake?
I throw them back at him.
"You're disgusting! This was set up! It's an insult that you could believe I would sleep with him! I never even touched that asshole! This is a hoax!"
The very idea of me touching that jerk! I'm so angry that I begin to upturn all the furniture in the room. I start with the dinning table then the sofa then all the chairs and coffee tables. I throw the electric fan out the window and pieces of shattered glass fall all over the place.
The last thing I see before I die is the chandelier coming towards me.
Monday, February 13, 2006
The Weirdest Conversation
I'm stuck in a haunted hotel. I have to find my way out but I can't since the stairs lead you back to the floor you came from and elevators open to floors that have no floors. Everything is a nostalgic shade of sepia and I could almost love that hotel except that it's haunted, it's scary, something evil is after me and I cry. What did I do to deserve this? What did I do? Why am I being punished? Leave me alone! Stop hurting me!
Someone meets me in the hallway and gives me my "mission" that I must accomplish before I am allowed out of the hotel. This mission will lead me to my destiny. I walk and find myself in a library with shelves a hundred feet high filled with all the books I could ever want, ever.
An elf meets me and says, "I am your trainer. You're here to find your destiny. You're here to learn from me."
"Learn what?" I ask and I secretly think, "Please, not a sport."
He reads my mind and giggles, his tiny self convulsing with laughter. He says, "Everything you need to know is written in these books," and his little hand gestures upward, towards the shelves that stretch a hundred feet.
And for some reason, the hauntedness disappears. I am a student again and I feel safe in this gigantic library with my tiny trainer and I've always been an eager pupil and if this elf wants me to learn from all these books then I will.
He says, "Let's start but you must be ready because... it will hurt. You must listen to me always and follow everything I say." His little almond eyes twinkle at me.
And I silently think, "Jesus. Am I to be the next Electric Michaelangelo?" But he reads my mind again and giggles.
I try something. "Can you read my mind?" I say silently, in my mind.
"Yes," he says in his mind.
"I read minds too. I think. Sometimes. I'm good at guessing people's intentions," I say silently, in my mind. This is the weirdest conversation I've had in my life.
"It's a talent of yours which has always creeped you out a bit, hasn't it?"
I hang my head guiltily and also to hide a tear. "It's made me paranoid and crazy."
He giggles out loud and says to me in his head, "It's made you a good teacher and you've never been wrong in Elimidate."
I walk around the shelves and let my fingers graze the spines of the books and I feel a peace descend upon me. How nice to have someone understand me. To know what I'm thinking even before I have thought it. To not think of me as malicious. To take time out to train me. How could this possibly hurt? I could spend a lifetime and learn everything I need to know from my elf trainer and never go back to the world. I could die here.
I pick a book. "I'd like to start with this please --" but when I turn around to hand him the book, he's gone.
Someone meets me in the hallway and gives me my "mission" that I must accomplish before I am allowed out of the hotel. This mission will lead me to my destiny. I walk and find myself in a library with shelves a hundred feet high filled with all the books I could ever want, ever.
An elf meets me and says, "I am your trainer. You're here to find your destiny. You're here to learn from me."
"Learn what?" I ask and I secretly think, "Please, not a sport."
He reads my mind and giggles, his tiny self convulsing with laughter. He says, "Everything you need to know is written in these books," and his little hand gestures upward, towards the shelves that stretch a hundred feet.
And for some reason, the hauntedness disappears. I am a student again and I feel safe in this gigantic library with my tiny trainer and I've always been an eager pupil and if this elf wants me to learn from all these books then I will.
He says, "Let's start but you must be ready because... it will hurt. You must listen to me always and follow everything I say." His little almond eyes twinkle at me.
And I silently think, "Jesus. Am I to be the next Electric Michaelangelo?" But he reads my mind again and giggles.
I try something. "Can you read my mind?" I say silently, in my mind.
"Yes," he says in his mind.
"I read minds too. I think. Sometimes. I'm good at guessing people's intentions," I say silently, in my mind. This is the weirdest conversation I've had in my life.
"It's a talent of yours which has always creeped you out a bit, hasn't it?"
I hang my head guiltily and also to hide a tear. "It's made me paranoid and crazy."
He giggles out loud and says to me in his head, "It's made you a good teacher and you've never been wrong in Elimidate."
I walk around the shelves and let my fingers graze the spines of the books and I feel a peace descend upon me. How nice to have someone understand me. To know what I'm thinking even before I have thought it. To not think of me as malicious. To take time out to train me. How could this possibly hurt? I could spend a lifetime and learn everything I need to know from my elf trainer and never go back to the world. I could die here.
I pick a book. "I'd like to start with this please --" but when I turn around to hand him the book, he's gone.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Despedida
Mrs Pengson (forever the same) and I are meeting regarding the Blue Flame. We're laughing and it's the most pleasant meeting I've ever had with her. I tell her what I want the Blue Flame to be and she agrees! She agrees to everything I say! Ms Abiog walks and in listens and agrees. I think, wow, why can't it be like this all the time?
The bell rings and I realize, fuck, I have class and I look at my schedule and I have 4-S. Everything is how it should be which makes me wonder if everything else that happened was just something I made up. I ask my class, "Um, okay, where are we? What are we supposed to be doing today? Can you check your syllabus?" And this is what it feels like when all the good aspects of my different worlds merge - just soooo unbelievably pleasant. They take out a copy of the syllabus! The one I gave my students at CSB! They check it out and inform me, "Miss, today it's The Components of Art. So I say, "Okay. I'll be right back with your handouts."
I dash back to the cabinet I share with Sunshine and look for those handouts but I can't find them. Time is flying and I keep looking and it's handout after handout of Art Movements, Literary Movements, Modernism and Postmodernism but no The Components of Art.
It's dark soon and I still can't find those stupid handouts. Chukis comes to pick me up. And I can't stand it so I tell her, "You know what? I had this crazy dream that I left you all. I'm glad it's not true."
She says, "Miss, you did leave. Well, at least you told us you would. Today is your last day and we have a surprise for you."
When we get to the room 312, everyone says, "Surprise!" And in the middle or the room is Moe. And I laugh and he laughs and everyone around us is all smiles and Balot says, "Miss, we want you to be happy where you're going."
And that just makes me cry.
Then Moe says, "Come, we'll be late for our shift."
We laugh all the way to Ambergris and I ask him, "Was that despedida a dream?"
***
Hong Kong.
I've overextended a day and only have a few HK dollars left. I join a group who are on their way to watch a play. I realize I don't even have enough money for the bus. I'm a few dollars short. I say to the driver, "Sorry but I don't have enough money!" He shakes his head at me because he's really annoyed but his Chinese guy overhears us and says, "I got it," and he steps up to swipe his Octopus card by the censor. I'm so relieved. "Thanks so much," I say then ask, "how much do I owe you?" He says, "700 dollars but you can pay me back when we get back to the Philippines."
It's a great night and I'm really careful not to spend anymore of the little money I have left.
On the plane, our way back to the Philippines, I disobey the rules and use my cellphone to call Paolo to give him my monetary status, "So, it's like this. I owe this guy 700 dollars which makes it 14k pesos. Could you have the money ready so when I get off this plane I can just hand the guy his money?"
But when we land, the Chinese guy is nowhere to be seen and the 14k pesos feels like it's burning in my hand.
The bell rings and I realize, fuck, I have class and I look at my schedule and I have 4-S. Everything is how it should be which makes me wonder if everything else that happened was just something I made up. I ask my class, "Um, okay, where are we? What are we supposed to be doing today? Can you check your syllabus?" And this is what it feels like when all the good aspects of my different worlds merge - just soooo unbelievably pleasant. They take out a copy of the syllabus! The one I gave my students at CSB! They check it out and inform me, "Miss, today it's The Components of Art. So I say, "Okay. I'll be right back with your handouts."
I dash back to the cabinet I share with Sunshine and look for those handouts but I can't find them. Time is flying and I keep looking and it's handout after handout of Art Movements, Literary Movements, Modernism and Postmodernism but no The Components of Art.
It's dark soon and I still can't find those stupid handouts. Chukis comes to pick me up. And I can't stand it so I tell her, "You know what? I had this crazy dream that I left you all. I'm glad it's not true."
She says, "Miss, you did leave. Well, at least you told us you would. Today is your last day and we have a surprise for you."
When we get to the room 312, everyone says, "Surprise!" And in the middle or the room is Moe. And I laugh and he laughs and everyone around us is all smiles and Balot says, "Miss, we want you to be happy where you're going."
And that just makes me cry.
Then Moe says, "Come, we'll be late for our shift."
We laugh all the way to Ambergris and I ask him, "Was that despedida a dream?"
***
Hong Kong.
I've overextended a day and only have a few HK dollars left. I join a group who are on their way to watch a play. I realize I don't even have enough money for the bus. I'm a few dollars short. I say to the driver, "Sorry but I don't have enough money!" He shakes his head at me because he's really annoyed but his Chinese guy overhears us and says, "I got it," and he steps up to swipe his Octopus card by the censor. I'm so relieved. "Thanks so much," I say then ask, "how much do I owe you?" He says, "700 dollars but you can pay me back when we get back to the Philippines."
It's a great night and I'm really careful not to spend anymore of the little money I have left.
On the plane, our way back to the Philippines, I disobey the rules and use my cellphone to call Paolo to give him my monetary status, "So, it's like this. I owe this guy 700 dollars which makes it 14k pesos. Could you have the money ready so when I get off this plane I can just hand the guy his money?"
But when we land, the Chinese guy is nowhere to be seen and the 14k pesos feels like it's burning in my hand.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Burns
Villa San Girolamo.
Moe and I look down at The English Patient.
He's burned. All black and purple except in some places where he's white - his bones.
I show Moe the cigarette burn on my left arm - the one that's on its way to becoming a nasty scar.
"I guess this is nothing then?"
"You have nothing to worry about, Camille. That's nothing."
Moe and I look down at The English Patient.
He's burned. All black and purple except in some places where he's white - his bones.
I show Moe the cigarette burn on my left arm - the one that's on its way to becoming a nasty scar.
"I guess this is nothing then?"
"You have nothing to worry about, Camille. That's nothing."
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Death Wish
The doctors say I'm dying. I'm in bed and I'm so hot it's like I'm burning.
They ask me, "Do you have a death wish?"
I ask them, "How many can I have?"
They say, "Just one."
Just one? Forget it! I stand up and the world spins and I can't breathe but still I go. It's dark and I see people and there are parties all around me so I try to be as quiet as possible but I have keep walking to find Teejay.
Teejay's here. Back from the States. I know it. I have to find him to tell him... to tell him...
All these people say I can't see him. He's here but I can't see him. He's busy. He has an assistant so maybe I should talk to that guy to schedule an appointment and I start to cry because I don't have much time. My chest hurts, I can't breathe, I start to throw up, I can hardly walk.
By some miracle, he steps out of a room looking like he did when we went to Nyanne's debut. "Teejay, Teejay, Teejay!"
And he gives me that smile.
And I smile back even though I don't have much time. A smile like that needs a smileback.
"Teejay, I want to tell you that..." and he steps forward to swirl me. Beautiful, beautiful Teejay. So many, many things I need to say. I don't know where to start. He keeps swirling me. Around and around until I forget what it is I have to tell him.
They ask me, "Do you have a death wish?"
I ask them, "How many can I have?"
They say, "Just one."
Just one? Forget it! I stand up and the world spins and I can't breathe but still I go. It's dark and I see people and there are parties all around me so I try to be as quiet as possible but I have keep walking to find Teejay.
Teejay's here. Back from the States. I know it. I have to find him to tell him... to tell him...
All these people say I can't see him. He's here but I can't see him. He's busy. He has an assistant so maybe I should talk to that guy to schedule an appointment and I start to cry because I don't have much time. My chest hurts, I can't breathe, I start to throw up, I can hardly walk.
By some miracle, he steps out of a room looking like he did when we went to Nyanne's debut. "Teejay, Teejay, Teejay!"
And he gives me that smile.
And I smile back even though I don't have much time. A smile like that needs a smileback.
"Teejay, I want to tell you that..." and he steps forward to swirl me. Beautiful, beautiful Teejay. So many, many things I need to say. I don't know where to start. He keeps swirling me. Around and around until I forget what it is I have to tell him.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Discovery, Morning Praise, A Girl I Love
A girl I don't know stops me, grabs my arm and demands, "TC, give me a call center grand tour."
"TC? Are you crazy? I don't work in a call center anymore. I can't get you in!"
But when I look towards where she's looking I see that she's right. We're inside Discovery and I see what we used to call "the colony" stretched out in front us - aisles and aisles of people taking in call after call. The sight makes me dizzy.
I protest, "But you've been here before. But I don't work here anymore. But there's security."
She points to my chest, "Use your ID."
"But I surrendered this. But it must be deactivated by now. BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!"
It doesn't matter what I say. I'm swept along by the forceful tide of this happy, happy girl.
I don't know anybody anymore but this girl, she knows everyone. She knows all the agents by name. The TC's stop their work to talk to her. She's causing a happy commotion! I look at her and I'm so worried that we might get caught and escorted out the building because of the commotion she's causing!
I sit behind a post and hide while keeping an eye on her. WHO IS THIS GIRL?
I see Richard Llims and I wave at him but he doesn't recognize me but this girl approaches him and they talk and I wonder, what's going on?
Jean spots me and we talk for a while and I point to her who I am with, and gee, if I knew her name I'd introduce her but here I am honestly finding the whole thing strange but Jean doesn't find it strange. She says, "I know her. She works here."
And I say, "What do you mean? Who is she?"
But an alarm bell rings and people start heading to the exit. Someone screams, "Fire!"
And I don't know why but I start to cry and I can hardly see but I force myself to look for that girl, that girl responsible for bringing me here and I'm looking for her because I can't explain it but she is a girl I love and I don't want to leave her behind and she seemed so happy and I was scared but a part of me was happy just seeing her laugh and a part of me was so envious because she knew everyone and after one year in Ambergris and I don't have a single friend and I suppose this it it, I'm being punished by having my worse nightmare come true, being killed by a fire but I just won't let the fire get to her and I will not let her die, I just won't because I love her, I love her, I love her.
I find her and grab her and together we exit the building and the alarm bell is a school bell after all and what the fuck, oh no please don't let it be, but it's St Scho, and it's morning praise and I am once again late and there's no getting away from it this time, I'll surely be punished.
The girl and I make our way to the crowd and they all look at us and we get scornful applause because everyone's been waiting for us, waiting for us so they could start the morning praise.
They confront me. "Camille Dela Rosa, who is this you're with?"
It's only now that I look at the girl closely. WHO IS THIS GIRL?
I realize it's me. IT'S ME.
"TC? Are you crazy? I don't work in a call center anymore. I can't get you in!"
But when I look towards where she's looking I see that she's right. We're inside Discovery and I see what we used to call "the colony" stretched out in front us - aisles and aisles of people taking in call after call. The sight makes me dizzy.
I protest, "But you've been here before. But I don't work here anymore. But there's security."
She points to my chest, "Use your ID."
"But I surrendered this. But it must be deactivated by now. BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!"
It doesn't matter what I say. I'm swept along by the forceful tide of this happy, happy girl.
I don't know anybody anymore but this girl, she knows everyone. She knows all the agents by name. The TC's stop their work to talk to her. She's causing a happy commotion! I look at her and I'm so worried that we might get caught and escorted out the building because of the commotion she's causing!
I sit behind a post and hide while keeping an eye on her. WHO IS THIS GIRL?
I see Richard Llims and I wave at him but he doesn't recognize me but this girl approaches him and they talk and I wonder, what's going on?
Jean spots me and we talk for a while and I point to her who I am with, and gee, if I knew her name I'd introduce her but here I am honestly finding the whole thing strange but Jean doesn't find it strange. She says, "I know her. She works here."
And I say, "What do you mean? Who is she?"
But an alarm bell rings and people start heading to the exit. Someone screams, "Fire!"
And I don't know why but I start to cry and I can hardly see but I force myself to look for that girl, that girl responsible for bringing me here and I'm looking for her because I can't explain it but she is a girl I love and I don't want to leave her behind and she seemed so happy and I was scared but a part of me was happy just seeing her laugh and a part of me was so envious because she knew everyone and after one year in Ambergris and I don't have a single friend and I suppose this it it, I'm being punished by having my worse nightmare come true, being killed by a fire but I just won't let the fire get to her and I will not let her die, I just won't because I love her, I love her, I love her.
I find her and grab her and together we exit the building and the alarm bell is a school bell after all and what the fuck, oh no please don't let it be, but it's St Scho, and it's morning praise and I am once again late and there's no getting away from it this time, I'll surely be punished.
The girl and I make our way to the crowd and they all look at us and we get scornful applause because everyone's been waiting for us, waiting for us so they could start the morning praise.
They confront me. "Camille Dela Rosa, who is this you're with?"
It's only now that I look at the girl closely. WHO IS THIS GIRL?
I realize it's me. IT'S ME.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Sylvia Plath, Sharon Olds, Kath Cruz, Me
The whole creative writing class is dorming. We love it. It's nothing really, just a big room and a door that opens to the back where we wash and hang our clothes. In that big room is me, Abi, La Verne, Kath, Kit. I get the big bed and everyone is so envious.
We have grand plans for our dorm. Parties, better decor, what to do with the ugly back part.
Abi is trash talking her ex boyfriend in the Spiderman costume. Kit and fiddling with her bangs and talking about this and that. Kath is giggling. La Verne is biting her nails.
We compare notes. Non fiction, fiction, poetry, playwriting. I tell them about Noel's crazy antics in poetry. How he turned from metaphysical to confessional without batting an eye. How during Mondays we all get drunk on wine and start to read poetry better. I tell them about Kit's absentmindedness. How she's always liable to say, "What are we doing today? Workshop ba? Gosh, I'm so sabog!"
We can hear the ruckus the boys are making right next door. We love it this way. Girls together and boys on the side.
I'm lying on my big bed feeling mighty comfortable. I look at Kath and say, "Kath, I really miss the way you would lean over to whisper how much you liked my sucky confessional poems!"
Kath laughs and says, "I guess we're both closet confessionals! Sylvia Plath, Sharon Olds, you and me!"
And somehow it feels like we made a deal and to seal the deal we just made we recite from memory:
Sex Without Love
Sharon Olds
How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.
We have grand plans for our dorm. Parties, better decor, what to do with the ugly back part.
Abi is trash talking her ex boyfriend in the Spiderman costume. Kit and fiddling with her bangs and talking about this and that. Kath is giggling. La Verne is biting her nails.
We compare notes. Non fiction, fiction, poetry, playwriting. I tell them about Noel's crazy antics in poetry. How he turned from metaphysical to confessional without batting an eye. How during Mondays we all get drunk on wine and start to read poetry better. I tell them about Kit's absentmindedness. How she's always liable to say, "What are we doing today? Workshop ba? Gosh, I'm so sabog!"
We can hear the ruckus the boys are making right next door. We love it this way. Girls together and boys on the side.
I'm lying on my big bed feeling mighty comfortable. I look at Kath and say, "Kath, I really miss the way you would lean over to whisper how much you liked my sucky confessional poems!"
Kath laughs and says, "I guess we're both closet confessionals! Sylvia Plath, Sharon Olds, you and me!"
And somehow it feels like we made a deal and to seal the deal we just made we recite from memory:
Sex Without Love
Sharon Olds
How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Houses
It's a hot day and it's such a relief to be indoors. I wonder whose house this is. It's pretty. Windows all around, book cases, fluffy pillows, candles. It even smells pretty. Then I see who owns it and when I look at him closely, I know there just can't be any mistake - he must be Pareto Patacsil's twin brother. I never knew he had one but this must be his twin brother because Pareto Patacsil is dead.
"Um, I knew your brother. From class."
"You're Camille."
Then we just look at each other and smile a little and cry a little because we understand.
***
I just can't believe that this house is exactly the way I remember it. Well, not exactly because I've forgotten parts of it, to be honest, but it feels right.
It's been 25 years since I've been to this house in Cottage Grove. See, I even remember the address.
So while Daddy and Mama are resting I show Sockie around. This is where I used to sleep. This is where I used to practice playing my violin. This is where I kept my toys. And as I continue the tour I feel more and more like the house was just waiting, waiting, waiting for me to come back.
I'm so contented that I decide to step out for a while a buy myself a real American street hotdog.
"Um, I knew your brother. From class."
"You're Camille."
Then we just look at each other and smile a little and cry a little because we understand.
***
I just can't believe that this house is exactly the way I remember it. Well, not exactly because I've forgotten parts of it, to be honest, but it feels right.
It's been 25 years since I've been to this house in Cottage Grove. See, I even remember the address.
So while Daddy and Mama are resting I show Sockie around. This is where I used to sleep. This is where I used to practice playing my violin. This is where I kept my toys. And as I continue the tour I feel more and more like the house was just waiting, waiting, waiting for me to come back.
I'm so contented that I decide to step out for a while a buy myself a real American street hotdog.
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