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.