The Time Capsule by greenwriter

[COMPLETED] What happens when the city girl has to ride through rough roads, mount
a carabao, hitch a ride on a sugarcane truck, spend the night in a prison cell and
a lot more? What happens when the socialite finds herself in a place that she has
never been to? And what happens when she is joined by a man with the heart of a
child but with a few secrets of his own? Join Steph as she takes on the journey to
find her grandmother's first love and their precious time capsule. Entangled in a
series of unfortunate events, Steph will have her own journey of self-discovery and
love.

I've done a MAJOR reconstruction on this story. By construction I mean that I have
reconstructed the chapters.

If you don't want spoilers, avoid reading the comments, please!

I'm sorry for the inconvenience!

Enjoy reading! And Vote and Comment if you can! I read all comments and each vote
brings me a smile!

Prologue

Copyright � 2013 by J.D Ruiz

I folded the letter and placed it between the pages of her book. Closing it for the
last time, I tied the string around it tightly.

I will never open it again. The letters, along with the book, will be kept in my
memory.

It has brought me to a lot of places, introduced me to amazing people--to him--and

it taught me about life�and love.

Love�the love she had for him and the loss that came with it. I felt it. I�m
feeling it.

The tears rolled down my face and I let them.

I cried like she did sixty years ago. I cried for the man she never had. I cried
for the man I love but couldn�t have.

If only things turned out right for both of us, tears would not stain the pages of
this book.

If only�

***HI, GUYS! Greenwriter here. I have thought of writing a story where I can
actually feature my province for a very long time. Just recently, my writing bulb
lit up and this story came up. I just hope my Filipino readers will appreciate this
one despite the fact that though it is set in the Philippines and it has Filipino
characters, it is still in English. I'll try to make it as natural as possible.

***This is dedicated to my dear friend, Stephanie. I know this is just fiction, but
I hope your fantasies to be with Erik will soon come true! LOL

***This story will be filled with a lot of adventure and learning for our heroine
so watch out and don't forget to COMMENT AND VOTE (ComVo) anytime! I'd be happy to
read about what you think! ;)

Chapter 1

Three months ago...

She passed away just a few days ago and I felt nothing. I should have, I know, but
I didn�t know her. She was just a name I often heard when my mother was still alive
and a name forgotten when she failed to show up at her daughter�s wake and funeral
in Makati. My father never spoke of her again and I never questioned as part of a
family tradition, �never question thy father�.

My grandmother, or mama as what my mother dearly called her, passed away alone in
her home. My father shared the news while we were having breakfast, of all moment.
As respect for the lady, I didn�t say anything.

�What�s the plan?� I asked. Surely there had to be one.

My father shrugged his shoulders. �They�ve had the wake for almost a week now.
We�ll go for the funeral.�

�We?�

He looked at me, his eyes free of emotion. I knew he wasn�t fond of my grandmother.
If he were, I would have known her. She was the reason why he and my mom had to fly
all the way to Manila and I think I knew the reason why. She never wanted him for
her for reasons I never knew. �We are the only family she has left. It�s our
responsibility.�

Sad to know he was doing it out of �responsibility�, right? But what else could he
say? My father was a man of truth. He would never lie to temporarily ease your
pain. If truth hurts, learn from it. That was his motto and I lived by it as well.

�When do you plan to go?�

�We fly tomorrow.�

My eyes widened in surprise and I almost choked down my food. �I won�t have enough
time to settle things in the caf�,� I tried to explain.

�You have things running smoothly for the past few months. Your chains can take
care of themselves.�

That was the end of our conversation. No tears were shed. Plans were made faster
than eating a spoonful of fried rice and scrambled eggs.

We would be bound to Bacolod City in about twenty-four hours.

I never thought of packing for a three-day stay in Bacolod until it was 6 o�clock
in the evening. Friends from everywhere in Makati kept on shooting messages to my
phone, inviting me everywhere there was life in the city. In the Philippines,
Makati is be the Big Apple. Lights never go down; people are always on the go.
I replied to some close friends that I would not be available until next week so
they better find someone to give life to the party. I had an important business to
settle out of town. Never had I told them I would be going to a completely
different place, to a province that speaks another language and to my mother�s
beloved city I never had the chance to visit before.

We left at 3 in the morning to escape traffic.

My father was busy checking his phone for e-mails and text messages. I was doing
the same. I had to make sure that everything would be going smoothly in my chain of
coffee shops, especially the one I just opened two months ago.

When we lined up to check-in for our flight, it dawned on me that I would soon land
in a place where everything is different. Behind me was a woman talking in
Hiligaynon, the local language of Bacolod. She was carrying a large bag made out of
straw. In front of me was an old man with two large boxes with holes around them
and I thought I heard chicken sounds.

Oh my God, I thought.

I never knew a lot about Bacolod. I heard stories of the place from my mother, but
most of my friends weren�t even aware of the place. And from what I gathered from
memory, it is a place that produces a lot of sugar. I only wished that my
grandmother lived a good lifestyle and that I didn�t have to suffer a life without
electricity, the internet and air conditioners.

�You grew up in Bacolod, right?� I asked my dad. We decided to stay in a coffee

shop as we waited for our flight.

He nodded, his eyes still focused on his phone.

�How come you never talked about it?� I had to make conversation. We still had two
hours to waste.

�It�s a great place.�

�And?�

For a moment I thought he would brush me off and end it right there, but he stopped
and lifted his head to look at me. My father, a man who rarely smiled, had that
reminiscing look on his face as he said, �I loved it. Your mom and I did.�

�And?�

�We had to leave for a better life.�

�I thought she had a great life there?�

�She did,� he nodded and his face turned grim. �I didn�t.�

I didn�t say another word for a few more minutes.

�What is she like?� I finally asked. I wanted to know. I wanted to know the woman
whom my mother loved so much and my father learned to despise in his own way.

�Who?� I knew he knew who I was talking about.

�Wawa,� I said. My mother had always told me to refer to the woman as Wawa. I
didn�t know why. I never even used that term for years.

�She was a great woman. She loved your mother very much.�

�But you hate her, don�t you?�

�Not anymore,� he said. �I hated her for years. But I�m also thankful to the
woman.�

I was confused. �Why?�

�She drove me to be who I am today.�

At that moment, I thought I finally understood.

�How come she never visited us?�

My father shrugged. His slit eyes were hooded with his thick brows. �I don�t have
any idea. Maybe she didn�t want to see me.�

�And me?�

He shook his head. �No, she always loved to hear from you. She was just too proud
to admit it. She used to call your yaya to ask after you.�

�Yaya Sana?� I asked in disbelief. My nanny never told me she was talking to my
grandmother.

�Those two had their own world. I don�t even know what they had been talking about.
I overheard them one time but that�s all.�

I nodded. My grandmother was a proud woman. At least that I was sure of. She was
too proud she didn�t even want to talk to her own granddaughter except her nanny.
Great.

I spent the thirty-minute or so flight sleeping on the plane. I had to reserve my

energy to face the unknown. I couldn�t imagine myself riding through rocky roads,
the actual smell of animal dung and hear the familiar language, one of at least 171
spoken in the Philippines.

My mother tried to teach me Ilonggo or Hiligaynon but after she died, I never used
it apart from Tagalog/Filipino, the national language of the country and the one
being used in Manila. Now that I thought of it, both my dad and I ceased speaking
the language when mom died. The sweet, singing tone of the language reminded me so
much of my mother. There even came a time when I didn�t want yaya Sana to speak
because she had that inherent tone in her. My father was a great speaker and when
he spoke the Tagalog language, you wouldn�t get any idea he grew up using a
different one.

When we reached the Silay-Bacolod airport, the language was everywhere. Imagine
people talking in a sing-song voice. I remembered my mother talking the way that
woman waiting for her luggage did but then I realized it didn�t hurt anymore. It
was just that familiar longing again.

After we loaded our luggage in the cart, we walked out the glass doors of the small
airport and waited for our ride.
Yaya Sana went back to Bacolod three years ago to take care of her nieces and
nephews. And when I saw her climb out of the van that stopped in front of us, I ran
to her and gave her a big hug. Despite what I found out about her secret with my
grandmother, she was still one of the few women I truly loved. She was my second
mother and most of all she was the only person who knew me well enough to give me a
piece of her mind. Even my dad couldn�t compete with her.

�Yaya, I missed you,� I said with a laugh. �You got so big!�

She laughed heartily and said, �When you get a taste of Bacolod food, you will
understand why.� She used to patronize the foods in Bacolod but ironically, she
couldn�t cook them.

My father greeted her saying, �Sana, I thought the airport is in Bacolod?� He had
that frown of confusion on his face.

�They transferred it here in Silay, sir,� yaya Sana explained.

�I wish I understand what you are talking about,� I uttered.

�Silay is two cities away from Bacolod,� she explained, still talking in
Hiligaynon. And then she realized that she was and she covered her mouth. �Sorry,�
she apologized, looking at me.

I laughed. �It�s okay, yaya. You�re free to speak Hiligaynon. I can manage,� I said
with a wink. I gave her another hug. I realized I missed her so much.

�Let�s go?� My father asked, speaking in Hiligaynon as well. I was stupefied. I

never heard him use the language since my mother died. �Where�s the driver?�

At that moment, a tall man came into view and I must say, he didn�t look like a
driver to me because he was too ruggedly handsome to be one but I assumed he was
because he held out his hand to my father. �Welcome to Negros, sir. And
condolence,� he added.

My father shook his hand briefly and nodded.

My smile faded and my mood changed. I was not used to strangers. �This is Erik.
Erik, meet Stephanie and sir Carlo.�

�Nice to meet you, miss Sy,� he said with a smile, holding out his hand. I didn�t
take it. I put on my sunglasses and nodded.

I saw the handsome driver and yaya Sana share a look. She just shrugged and gently
pushed him towards our cart.

�That�s mine,� I said in haste as he started to lift my small luggage out of the
cart. �Be careful with it.�

�Yes, ma�am!� he said playfully. His wide grin almost made me want to smile back
but I held my lips tight. I didn�t want him to get the wrong impressions.

I watched as he loaded the rest of our luggage at the back of the van. When he
started to walk to circle to the driver side of the van, I said, �The door?� with
my eyebrow arched high.

�Don�t worry, I got it,� yaya Sana told him as she pulled the door open.
I climbed in and was greeted with the cool air of the air conditioner.

�You�re too harsh on him,� yaya Sana whispered after she closed the door.

�I am always harsh on people I don�t know,� I answered, turned to her and smiled.
�Except you.�

The lady just shook her head.

***About the photo: Main street of Silay City. It is known for its ancient Spanish
buildings and houses.

Chapter 2

�We are now leaving Silay city,� yaya Sana explained after we passed through
different ancient Spanish houses. �This is Talisay. It�s a small city, but it�s
nice.� I looked out the window. She bet it was small. It took us only five minutes
to drive through it before we reached Bacolod.

To give Bacolod a credit, there were a lot of green fields, one that you could no
longer find in Makati.

�This is Robinson�s Mall,� yaya Sana pointed to the right.

I just nodded. It was probably the second biggest structure I saw since we started
our drive. Yes, there were no buildings taller than fifteen floors which was a call
center building right before we passed the mall. I checked my watch. It was eight
in the morning.

�Where�s the traffic?� I asked.

�You won�t find it here,� Erik answered in Tagalog. He said it with that same
Hiligaynon tone. I did not bother telling him he could freely speak his native
tongue. �Here in Bacolod, the jeepneys fight over commuters.�

�That�s a joke, right?� I asked yaya Sana.

She shook her head and laughed.

In Makati, I often see people lining up for a jeepney ride, a common public
transport in the Philippines.

�This is what I miss the most in Bacolod,� my father spoke for the first time after
he climbed on the passenger side.

�And is one of the reasons why I never left,� Erik told him. �I heard you�re into
the food industry, sir,� he said, an obvious conversation starter.

I rolled my eyes. I�d heard that several times when common people wanted to talk to
my father, hoping for a chance to be showered with his generosity.

It was surprising though that he knew a lot about the business.

�Stephanie actually has a chain of coffee shops around Manila,� my dad said with
pride.

�Really?� Erik glanced at me through the rearview mirror. I did not answer but I
did look away. His gaze bothered me.
�It�s sad you never knew your Wawa,� yaya Sana said to me in a whisper.

�Yeah,� I said.

�She was a good lady despite everything.�

�I heard you talked to her often,� I said in a low voice. My father was deep in
conversation with the driver.

Yaya Sana looked at me with guilt. �Yes. She always asked after you. I asked her
many times if she wanted to talk to you, especially after your mother passed away
but she wouldn�t. She said she was afraid you would hate her for not seeing you
before.�

�Why didn�t she?� I asked with bitterness. I never had pictures taken with her,
never had the chance to actually use the name calling her, never had that normal
childhood spoiled by my own grandmother.

Before yaya Sana could answer my question, the van stopped. Curious, I looked out
the window. �Why are we stopping?�

�We�re here,� yaya Sana explained, pointing at the building.

I looked up and saw the big sign, Rolling Hills Memorial Chapels. I heard my father
take a deep breath as Erik climbed out. Yaya Sana opened the door and waited until
I decided it was time to face this.

It�s just for three days, I told myself. Then it�s back to normal. There was no
sticky air outside. It was a nice morning apart from the fact that we were standing
outside a memorial chapel. We let Erik guide us inside the gloomy building. My
grandmother�s wake was held inside a spacious room and I was very surprised to see
a lot of people inside.

Heads turned, their expression that of curiosity. Apart from yaya Sana, I didn�t
know anyone. I could count Erik as someone I knew, but he was just the driver. He
didn�t play a big role in the occasion.

Words of us being Wawa�s closest family eventually spread across the room. People
started to come forward, offering their condolences and all I had to do was give
them a small smile. In my black dress, I walked to the front of the room where a
bronze coffin stood, covered with flowers. Three stands of mass cards stood in one
corner. The carpeted floor silenced my footsteps. Just before I reached the
rectangular bronze box that held my grandmother inside, I stopped and searched for
yaya Sana. She was right behind me, her face solemn. I held out my hand and she
took it like she used to whenever I was afraid. Like that first time when I went to
school, my first day in high school, my first plane ride--all my first including
this one.

Together, we made the last few steps toward my grandmother and when I saw her face,
I had to turn away. I didn�t want to remember her in that lifeless state. I saw
pictures of her and I wanted that stern face etched in my memory, not this. I never
knew her, so at least I wanted to preserve her living look in my mind and not
someone I saw inside a coffin.

Tears of regret flowed out of my eyes as yaya Sana guided me to a nearby seat.
Regret of never reaching out to my grandmother. Regret of never even thinking about
her. Regret of not buying even a simple Christmas card for her. Regret of not
knowing her birth date.
I didn�t want to think of anyone to blame for what we had become. It could have
been my father�s fault or it could have been my mother�s. It could have been mine
and it could have been my grandmother�s.

When I finally had my emotions checked, I looked around the room. I did not mind
the stare of the crowd. I found my father at the back, talking with a couple who
seemed the same age as him and I found Erik drinking a cup of coffee just a few
feet away from them. I looked away when our eyes met.

My father easily made a circle of companion, people who looked like they were part
of the high society as well. I on the other hand had no one but yaya Sana to take
care of me. She gave me lunch from the buffet table and watched as I ate.

�Your father arranged for the two of you to sleep in your grandparent�s ancestral
home.�

My eyes widened. �What? No hotel?�

�It�s peak season. You don�t know how many tourists turn up during this time of
year.�

�I don�t know, it�s creepy,� I cringed at the thought of sleeping under the roof of
my grandparents whom I never had the chance to meet before they passed away.

Yaya Sana held my hand. �Don�t think that way.�

�I don�t know the place, yaya. I don�t feel safe.�

�This child,� she said, shaking her head. �The compound is a safe place. And Erik
will be staying the night to watch over us.�

I frowned. �You trust him that much?�

�I trust him with my life, child. He�s been around the family since he was a
child.�

My head turned to where Erik was standing. If I didn�t know, I would have mistaken
him to be one of the guests. He didn�t dress like one and he felt comfortable to be
surrounded by people who dressed in pretty clothes. He was confident. But then, as
yaya Sana said, he grew up around the family. He was used to it, I concluded.

�You cut your hair, it�s nice,� yaya Sana praised, stroking my hair which went down
just below my shoulders. I remembered she used to braid it when I was young. �What
have you been doing? Tell me.�

I told her about how my business was growing, my new friends, my new car, my ex-
boyfriend named Greg, my ex-best friend who cheated with Greg, my new collection of
shoes�I told her about everything new.�

Yaya Sana was still in shock with what happened between me and Greg. �Don�t worry,�
she finally said when she got over it. �There�s someone who will show you what real
love is.�

I laughed at that. As I grew older, I realized that real love was scarce. I had
been around enough men in bars and social events to realize that nothing lasts for
them. Greg had been fun but he was not such a big loss. He was just like every man
I had ever met.
�Maybe you can find one here,� yaya Sana joked.

�Yeah, right. And then I�ll live here?� I huffed. �No way.�

�You�ve never experienced Negros, my dear. Once you do, you�ll never want to go
back to the busy life of Manila.�

�I love the busy life.�

She looked at me as if she knew something I didn�t. �We�ll see.�

If it was any other ordinary day, I would have already gotten a ticket back to
Makati. But it was a day of grieving and I had to at least act like I was.

�Are you ready to go?� Erik was standing before me. I didn�t notice him
approaching, too busy with my phone.

�What made you think I want to leave?�

�You�ve been on your phone for almost an hour now,� he pointed out, still talking
in Tagalog.

�I�m just busy.�

�And?�

I was getting irritated. He was acting too cool for a driver. Why couldn�t he just
wait when I was ready to leave? It was his job, right?

�And I want to be alone?�

He placed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. �Fine,� and then walked away.

�Impossible,� I murmured, my attention back on my phone. I had to call my new

manager to see how she was doing. �Joan, how are things?�

�Everything�s fine, miss Steph. A lot of customers today.�

�That�s good. Make sure you stock well. I�ve called the suppliers. They�ll deliver
in a day.�

�I think we�ll have enough until tomorrow.�

I also called my secretary to keep things under control in the office. I didn�t
want to go home to a mess. But knowing her, I knew that I was in good hands. I
handpicked her after a month of waiting for the perfect one and she was nearly
perfect.

When I had no more excuse to use my phone, I stood up and went to my father. He was
still talking to the old couple whose names I forgot. �Dad, I want to go home and
rest for a while. Can you manage alone?�

Of course he said yes. Despite his relationship with my grandmother, he was having
a good time with some of the locals.

Yaya Sana was busy serving guests so I decided to search for the driver on my own.
I found him outside, talking with two other guys. �I�m ready to go,� I announced,
my chin held up high. It was already dark outside.

�Sure,� he said after he took a good look at me. Without another word spoken, I
walked straight to the van parked in front of the memorial chapel.

�Where are you going?� I heard Erik ask a few feet away. His right hand was holding
a set of keys and he was standing outside a large black pick-up truck.

�Aren�t we using the van?�

�Manang Sana and the others will need that later. We�ll use this.� Manang is the
Hiligaynon term used to call older women for respect.

�How about my things?�

He sighed and strode to the back of the van. He opened it. �Well?� his brows rose
in question. �Aren�t you going to grab your suitcase?�

My mouth fell open. He expected me to do what? �Why? Isn�t it your job?�

�Hey, lady, I�m just the driver here.�

�Unbelievable!�

�Believe it,� he said, stepping aside to give way for me.

I grumpily pulled my suitcase out and dropped it on the ground.

�Careful. You�ll still need it.�

�Whatever,� I snapped, struggling with the handle. He went back to the pick-up
truck and climbed in. He was just unbelievable! How was I supposed to load my
suitcase on that thing? It was about six feet high!

Angry, I knocked on the tinted window. It slid down and his amused face stared at
me.

�I can�t load this thing on my own,� I said, kicking the suitcase with my high
heels.

�Move aside,� he said.

�What?�

�You want me to help you load it up, right?�

�So?�

�So, move aside so I can open the door and get out.�

�Urgh!� I was too frustrated to even shout. He laughed and climbed out the driver
seat.

�This is not that heavy,� he said as he bent down to lift my suitcase. �Open the
door.�

I couldn�t believe this man. He had the nerve to order me around! When I didn�t
move, he shrugged and threw the suitcase at the open rear of the truck. �My father
will hear of this!�

�I�d be happy to hear what he�ll say,� he answered. Before I could open the back
door, he added, �Don�t even think about it.�

�What now?�

�Get in the passenger side.�

�And why would I do that?�

�Because you�re my only passenger and I don�t drive with one passenger sitting at
the back.�

�You�re a freaking driver.�

�You want to drive?� He challenged.

�What the hell is wrong with you?�

�If you want to go, find another driver. I�m sure those two guys are willing to
drive you around.� His head tilted to the two men he was chatting with earlier. I
looked at them looking at me and I stomped my way to the passenger side of the
pick-up truck.

�Now, that was not so difficult, was it?�

I did not say another word. He started the engine and backed out of the parking
lot. He reached out and turned on the music. It was jazz. A fine selection, I
noted.

�You want to grab dinner first?�

�No, I want to get out of this truck as soon as possible, please.�

�Fine.�

We drove through the wide road of Bacolod. I didn�t imagine the streets to be that
wide, honestly. I thought it would be narrower and well, rocky. I found the
sidewalks nice as well.

�This is Lacson street,� Erik finally broke the silence.

�I didn�t ask.�

�During Masskara Festival, the whole road is closed for three days. Street parties
and everything,� he continued to explain, not hearing me. �And as you can see,
restaurants line up all the way to Lagoon. Most of them local ones except for a
few.�

�Can you just shut up? I want to rest.�

�You don�t like me, do you?�

�You just figured that out?�

�No, I�m not just used to people not liking me,� he said with pride.
�It�s easy not to. Trust me.�

�Your Wawa told me about you, you know.�

That one surprised me. �What�s there to tell? We never even met.�

�When two people never met, it doesn�t mean they don�t have a story together.�

�What did she say?�

�That you�re arrogant.� He glanced at my direction before adding, �and that you are
beautiful.�

I didn�t want to hear another word about my grandmother from this guy. I didn�t
know him and I didn�t trust him despite yaya Sana�s words.

We travelled for a few minutes, passing the Lagoon and circling the Bacolod plaza
where the cathedral was located just across the street. Five more minutes of
driving without traffic, we reached my grandparents� ancestral home. It was similar
to the ones I saw in Silay. It was big and spacious. And of course, creepy. It had
a freaking big fountain in the middle of the driveway! And then there were those
lion statues standing old at the bottom of the front steps.

�Oh God,� I uttered in a whisper.

Chapter 3

Erik climbed out and I followed, never expecting him to open the door for me. He
took my suitcase from the back of the truck and left it on the ground where he put
it. �Unbelievable bastard,� I muttered as I pulled my luggage and fell into steps
behind him. A lady appeared at the door as we climbed the five steps of the porch.
She was smiling and she was old.

�Hija, welcome to Bacolod. I�m sorry to meet you in this circumstance,� she said,
holding on to my arm.

�Manang June, meet Stephanie. Stephanie, this is Manag June. She had your mother�s
lady companion ever since she got married.�

�She�s like a sister to me,� manang June said with tears in her eyes. �Why don�t we
come inside? I�ll show you to your room. It had been your mother�s years ago. We
already prepared it for you.�

�We haven�t had dinner yet, manang,� Erik announced as we entered the house.

I was not hearing him. I was too busy looking around the place I should have been
at years ago. I should have grown up here during the summers. I should have been
familiar with it. I should have ruined those damned lions outside with my childish
plays. Heck, I should have been able to swim in that humongous fountain.

It was my mother�s home before she married and left for Manila. I should have been
here.

�Come, hija, I�ll show you to your room.� Manang June took my hand. �Leave that
suitcase there. I�ll take it to your room later. Erik, hijo, there�s food in the
fridge if you�re hungry.�
�Now that�s what you call dinner,� Erik said with a big smile as he found his way
to the kitchen at the back of the house.

Manang June led me to the wooden staircase that concaved to the left.

�Thank you for this, manang,� I said as we climbed.

�Don�t thank me, it�s nothing.�

When we reached the top of the stairs, I saw a big portrait of a young man hanging
on the wall.

�That�s your grandfather.�

I nodded. I knew my grandfather was wealthy and I bet this was where he grew up.
The second floor had a long hallway.

�We have seven rooms here. To the right are the master bedroom and two others that
belonged to your mother, ma�am Othella, and Christina. But those two mostly shared
your mother�s room. Christina didn�t like spending the nights alone.�

I frowned. Who is Christina?

Before I could ask the question aloud, Manang June continued, �To the left are four
other rooms, one was turned into a library, the other two for guests and the last
one is mine. Come this way.� She gently led me to the right corridor and stopped at
the first door to the right. �This was your mother�s. It has never been rearranged
since she left.� She opened the door and I was awed at what I saw. It was huge. A
big four-poster bed was at the center. Two large windows let in the fresh night air
and a wooden sliding door opened to the balcony. A big, white cabinet stood at one
corner and a dressing table was opposite to the bed. Old perfumes and hair brushes
laid on it. I walked inside, my heels clicking against the polished wooden floor. I
felt like I was in the Spanish era.

�I hope you�ll find it great,� manang June said.

�Thank you,� I uttered in a trance.

�I�ll leave you for now. I�ll bring your things up.�

It was a good thing that the bathroom was not as old as the house. If it were, I
didn�t know how I could have managed. I dressed in a comfortable pair of pajamas. I
took out my laptop after manang June delivered my things and was disappointed to
discover that there was no internet. I left my pocket wifi at home and now I
regretted it. My phone�s internet was not doing good either so I gave up after a
few minutes.

Without anything to do, I decided to roam around the place. It was not as dark and
gloomy as I had imagined ancestral homes to be. In fact, it was pleasant and bright
inside. When I stepped out of my room, I was tempted to go to the farthest door at
the end of the corridor. It was the master bedroom, I was sure of it. On my way, I
found the other room, probably owned by Christina, whoever she might be. But it was
locked. I shrugged and slowly, with bare feet, I made my way to the master bedroom
and tried the door. Again, it was locked.

Disappointed, I went downstairs and heard heavy laughter. It was Erik�s. I was sure
of it.
�Can you imagine? She even expected me to open the door for her!�

Manang June�s amused look turned pale when she saw me walk in the dining room. She
immediately turned around and disappeared into the kitchen.

�Were you talking about me behind my back?�

Erik almost choked down his food. �Of course�� he gulped down a glass of water and
continued, �I was.�

I rolled my eyes at him and followed manang June inside. �Manang,� I called. �Do
you know where I can find the key to the door at the end of the corridor?�

�It�s your grandmother�s room. You want to see it?� She looked confused.

I nodded. �I�m curious.�

�I�ll get it for you.�

�What about the room beside my mother�s?�

�Oh, it has been locked for years. No one really enters that room. I�ll look for
the key tomorrow if you want.�

�No, that�s okay, Manang. I guess the master bedroom is enough.�

�Wait here while I get the key.�

�I�ll come with you.�

I followed her out of the kitchen, threw Erik a look, and walked on up the
staircase with manang June.

�Don�t mind Erik. He�s just playing with you. He�s a great kid.�

�You�re the second one to tell me that.�

�It�s true. Wait here while I get the key.�

Manang June was back from her room in less than a minute. She was holding an old
key in her hand.

�Do you want me to come with you?�

�I�ll be fine,� I said and walked to the right corridor.

I had second thoughts as I stood outside my grandmother�s room. I never knew her so
I didn�t know if she would be bothered if I entered the room. I had the key in my
hand and manang June was not hesitant to give it to me so I assumed it was okay. I
worked with the key and opened the door. It was almost the same as mine, just
bigger. There was a walker at the foot of the bed and an open book on one of the
pillows. No one touched this room after she passed away.

I went inside and walked to the dresser. If you ever want to know anything about a
woman, go to her dresser.

My eyes watered when I saw framed photographs of my mother on that dresser. She was
just about sixteen when it was taken. My grandmother�s photo together with my
grandfather stood beside it. She looked radiant and beautiful in her younger days.
Very feminine and definitely very Filipina. My mother must have inherited her
features from my grandfather because she didn�t look anything like my grandmother.
Well, maybe except her pointed nose which I also got.

Slowly, I sat down on the stool and opened a drawer. I saw more photographs. I
didn�t know how much time I spent just looking through those black-and-white photos
of people whom I barely knew. When I was done, I opened another drawer. That was
when I found it.

It was just lying there with a string to keep it closed. There was nothing else
inside but that tiny, red book. I took it in my hand and I felt something weird. I
knew what it was the moment I saw it and I desperately wanted to pull the string
and leaf through every page.

I was holding in my hand the very life story of my grandmother, the woman I never
knew. I found her diary.

Chapter 4

I didn�t know what I should do. Should I put it back inside that drawer? Should I
read it?

I looked around, expecting someone to be watching me.

Alone in that room, without anyone to see me, I could do anything. So I chose to
close the drawer and take the diary. I wouldn�t read it tonight. I would just keep
it safe.

As I exited my grandmother�s room, I saw Erik reach the top of the steps. He saw me
as I closed the door. �Hey,� he beamed. �What are you up to?�

�Nothing you should know,� I answered, arching my brow.

He shrugged and turned to the left corridor.

�Where are you going?�

He frowned. �To my room. I need to rest as well.�

�Your room?�

�Do you have a problem if I was given a room here? Would you prefer I sleep outside
with the dogs?�

�Is that possible?�

�You wouldn�t want to hear me bark,� he teased.

I grimaced at the thought. I walked to my room without a word and locked myself in.
How come he was given a room upstairs? Well, manang June had one. Maybe he was
given the other room in case he was needed during an emergency when Wawa was still
alive.

I walked to the bed that once belonged to my mother and looked at the diary in my
hand. A big part of me wanted to read it. Another said that it was not right. My
grandmother was to be buried the day after tomorrow.
A knock on the door pulled me back from my thoughts.

�Stephanie, its dad.�

�It�s open.�

The door slowly opened. I saw my father enter and stop after a few paces. He looked
around. �I�ve been here twice, you know.�

�In this room?�

He nodded. �When your mother and I married, we stayed here for a day. And then we
were gone.�

I desperately wanted to ask him what happened, to tell me the whole story, but I
was afraid. I was afraid to know that my grandmother had been cruel to my father.
If possible, I wanted to be left in the dark on that matter.

�What�s that?� he motioned at the diary in my hand.

�It�s nothing,� I hid the book in my back, pretending it was not important. Like it
was a journal I brought at the National Bookstore. �Notes for work. Why did you
come back? I thought you were having a good time?�

He smiled. �I knew Mr. and Mrs. Luzuriaga years back. They�ve been my mentors.�

�In what?�

�Business, of course.�

�Ah�you didn�t introduce me.�

�I never thought you would want to.�

�If they�re people you know, I would want to know them.�

He approached me and stroked my head. �I�ll introduce you tomorrow.�

I gave him a sweet smile of thanks.

�Go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.�

Tomorrow came so fast. I didn�t know how that it would be the day that I had to
prove myself. In line with the funeral which had to happen the day after, I was
given the task to look for a good catering service, prepare the venue and deliver a
speech.

Of course I complained about everything.

�Why me?� We were back in speaking Tagalog.

�You�re your Wawa�s only grandchild. At least make people believe that you care.�

�I do! I do care!�

�Then prove it,� my father had said.

�Can�t we just use the catering service from yesterday and today?�

�They already have a schedule for tomorrow,� yaya Sana replied, she too speaking in
Tagalog. She had that instinct whenever she was around me. Her face was blank. I
knew she was disappointed in me. She wanted to see that I would gladly anything for
my grandmother. But what the hell! I didn�t even know the woman in the first place.
How do I make a good eulogy?

I sighed. �How about the venue? Doesn�t the memorial chapel have something to
offer?�

�Yes, but they need someone to facilitate.�

I groaned, dropping my fork on my plate. I lost my appetite.

Erik was standing by the doorway of the kitchen and I heard him stifle a laugh. I
threw him a darting look. I couldn�t stand him. He was dressed in a light blue
shirt and dark pants and he still looked great. However did my grandmother find a
driver that hot--and irritating?

�Fine.�

I stood from my chair and left everyone in the kitchen. When I entered my mother�s
former room, I spotted the red diary on the bed. Taking it with my right hand, I
turned it over. With the natural light of day, it appeared to be really old. The
same desire to read it came over me but I stopped myself. I had a lot of things to
do.

I dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and dark pants. I paired my simple look with
a pair of black pumps and my red Prada bag. I went to the dresser where I had set
up my essentials and fixed my face. I didn�t need a lot of makeup but I chose to
wear a dark shade of eye shadow to give my eyes some attitude. I used to hate my
Chinese eyes. They had no creases to work with, but as time went by, I realized
that people actually loved my 75% Filipino and 25% Chinese look. Thanks to my half-
Chinese father, I guess.

Preparing for battle, I tightly tied my hair in a ponytail.

When I came downstairs, my father was not there.

�Where�s dad?� I asked yaya Sana.

�He already left. He used the van.�

�How about me?� I asked in horror.

�I�ll be at you service,� Erik announced, striding in the living room, juggling the
keys.

�I think I can drive,� I told him.

He raised his eyebrow. �You think you know every nook and corner of this place?�

I gave it a second thought and sighed in surrender.

�That�s what I was talking about. Can we go now?�

He was still talking in Tagalog. Didn�t anyone tell him he could speak Hiligaynon?
�Let�s go to the memorial chapel first. I want to make sure the venue will be
ready.�

�Whatever you want,� he shrugged and walked to the door. Before following him, I
gave yaya Sana a look that cried for help. She just laughed and waved me goodbye.

�Tomorrow at 3 pm,� I said, jotting down notes. �And the priest?�

�We have a list here and we can recommend some for you.�

�I know someone close to your Wawa,� Erik said, finally breaking his silence since
we entered the office.

It was the first time I was glad he was with me. �Is he okay for tomorrow?�

He thought about it for a moment and nodded. �He�ll do anything for her. They�re
close friends.�

�That�s settled then.�

�His name is Fr. Guevarra.�

I nodded and wrote the name on my note.

�You still have to choose what to write on the tombstone,� the lady behind the
table said. �We have a list from the bible here,� she added, opening a plastic
folder for me to leaf through.

�I know what she wants for her tombstone.� It was Erik again.

�You do?�

�She told me herself a few months ago.�

�What does she want?� I wanted it to be over with so it was not a problem for me
even if it meant Erik was the one to give me the help I needed.

�I think she wanted it to be, �I laughed, I cried, I fought, I loved�and now I

surrender��.�

I was speechless for a few moments as I tried to absorb the words. I suddenly had
that same feeling of longing for my grandmother, a woman I never knew but someone
who talked about her death to someone like Erik. How come she never had the courage
to reach out to me? I should be the one to say everything Erik had about her. It
should have been me.

�I would need you to write that down for me,� the woman behind the table said,
pulling me back to the present.

Erik nodded and walked to the table. He bent down to write down the words that my
grandmother shared with him.

�Are we set?� I finally asked with my composure back to normal.

�I think we are,� the lady said with a small smile. I couldn�t imagine how hard her
work was. She was trying to work with clients who were grieving. Well, at least
most of them were.

�Where to next?� Erik asked as we walked out the door.

�We need a catering service.�

�I know just the place.�

I looked at him with eyes that could have thrown daggers. �If you know everything,
why didn�t you just volunteer earlier this morning? I don�t have to do all of this
and actually do nothing.�

�Hey,� he held up both hands in defense, �I�m not family. I just happen to know
your grandmother and I just happen to know a lot about this place. I�m here to
help.�

He sounded sincere so I just nodded and walked to the pick-up truck. I opened the
passenger side, not expecting him to suddenly be a gentleman.

The catering service he took me to was a house. We reached it after a short drive
around Lagoon Park.

�What�s this?�

�Just follow me,� he said with a laugh.

�What are we doing here?� I looked up at the big house in front of us.

�This is where we can find the best catering service. Come on.�

I did not immediately follow and when I did, Erik was already at the front door. A
woman dressed in a servant�s uniform opened the door.

�Hi, Kat. Is Rock here?�

The petite servant nodded and stepped aside. �She�s in the kitchen.�

�This is Stephanie Sy, a friend.�

Friend? What made him decide to name me as a friend of his? Shouldn�t he have just
said I was his boss or his boss� granddaughter?

�Hello, ma�am. Good morning,� she greeted in Hilagaynon.

�She doesn�t speak the language,� Erik told her.

I was about to correct that but a pretty lady with disheveled hair walked into view
from what appeared to be the kitchen of the large house. She walked on the tiled
floor in her Crocs slippers, a pair of short shorts and a loose white shirt. �Erik!
Nice to see you!� She walked toward Erik and gave him a peck. �I�m sorry. I smell
of smoke.�

�I figured you were cooking?�

Rock smiled, flashing her prefect white teeth.

�By the way, this is Stephanie Sy,� Erik motioned his hand toward me.

Rock�s eyes widened. �Mrs. Gozar�s granddaughter?�

I nodded.

�I�ve heard a lot of stories about you,� she said, holding out her hand, now
speaking in Tagalog. I took it but didn�t say anything.

�She�s a good friend of my family.�

Again, I nodded. I was confused. How come Erik was close to almost everyone my
grandmother knew? Was he more than her driver?

�Rock owns a restaurant in Bacolod, one of the best.�

�Stop flattering me.� Rock playfully punched Erik�s arm. �What can I do for you
guys?�

�Stephanie here is looking for a catering service for tomorrow�s funeral.�

Rock�s face turned from gleeful to sad. �Anything I can do for Mrs. Gozar. What
time is the funeral?�

�Three in the afternoon,� I answered.

�I�ll be there. I�ll bring mom.�

�Thanks.�

�And don�t worry about the food. You�ll love them,� she said with a wink.

�She�s one of the best cooks I know,� Erik said with pride, looking at Rock with
tenderness.

There was something about these two that I just couldn�t figure out yet.

Rock led us to her office and we discussed the menu--well, she and Erik did because
I didn�t know any of the menu they were talking about. All I did was listen and nod
when they would both look at me with expectation.

Everything I was doing since that morning was all useless. Erik could have handled
it and I couldn�t figure out why I had to do it.

We were back in the truck when I finally said, �I don�t think I can go to the
memorial chapel. I want to go back to the house and rest.�

Erik frowned. �It�s your grandmother�s last night before the funeral.�

I didn�t answer. I was not sure how. I honestly had no reason because I also found
none to even stay there. �Dad can handle the guests. He�s good at that.�

�And I figure you�re not.� It was not a question.

I nodded. �So, can you take me to the house now?�

He didn�t answer but I realized he was driving to the direction of the road that
would lead us back to my grandparents� home.

�At least show people you care for your grandmother,� Erik broke the silence after
I climbed out of the truck.

I sharply turned to him. I intended to say something sharp, but I couldn�t find the
words. His expression was blank but I hinted a tinge of anger in his eyes. �Why do
you care so much how I behave?�

�Because unlike you, I care for your grandmother a lot.� He was standing too close
to me now and I realized that my 5 feet, 5 inches height was nothing to his.

�You don�t know me enough to know I don�t care.�

�You don�t make the best effort to show that you do.�

My jaw clenched. I was angry too. I wanted to shout at him that I cared but then
that would be a lie. I didn�t know my grandmother. I never developed any feeling
for the lady so why was I angry that he pointed that fact? �I never grew up with
her around. I never even got the chance to call her Wawa. She was never there for
me. I never even heard her freaking voice. I know all of you think she is a great
lady but I don�t know her! So don�t expect me to care for someone I never knew.�
After I said that, I walked straight to the door, opened it and slammed it shut.

My breathing was heavy when I reached my mother�s old bedroom. I fell on the bed
and I bounced for a few times before everything became still. The only animate
object in the room was the silk curtain. I watched it gently float for almost a
minute. When I could no longer strain my eyes, I shifted my gaze at the diary I
left lying on the bed that morning. It was just a foot away from my hand. Slowly, I
moved and sat cross-legged on the bed.

I felt the edges of the leather-bound diary with my fingers. Written inside was the
story of the woman I had never known. If I would just open it and read through it,
I would have something to tell everyone tomorrow. I would have something for the
eulogy.

Quickly, before I changed my mind, I pulled the string that held the diary close.
My heart was pounding against my chest when I pulled the cover open. The first page
was blank. There was still time for me to back out, close the thing and tie the
strings like it had never been touched. But I didn�t do that. I turned the first
page over and for the first time, I saw my grandmother�s neat handwriting.

Chapter 5

It was similar to the old script handwriting you would often see in classic
movies. The first entry was dated March 25, 1953. I did the math. It was sixty
years ago.

From what I learned earlier this morning from Eric when he talked to the woman in
the office of the memorial chapel, my grandmother was eighty years old when she
died so the first entry was made when she was about twenty. I couldn�t imagine my
twenty year-old grandmother writing the very words in front of me.

I met a man today. He is good-looking and nice. I attended a fiesta in Dumaguete

with my parents. He helped me find my way back when I found myself lost in the
crowd. He asked me for a dance. I accepted against better judgment. He is named
Antonio. He asked me to meet him again tomorrow by the big tree outside the church.
I don�t know if I should go.

I had a frown on my face. My grandmother met a man named Antonio but he was not my
grandfather. As far as my memory could tell, my grandfather was Ramon Gozar. I
shrugged. Well, my grandmother was too young back then. This was probably just a
fling or a passing infatuation.

As I read on, I realized that the story had more to say. It was actually getting
more and more interesting.

I decided to meet Antonio. He was already sitting by the tree outside the church
and he was with a friend named Ramon. Like Antonio, Ramon is not bad to the eyes
either. I didn�t like him at first sight though. He seemed stiff and unwelcoming.
His gaze told me I was not good enough for his friend.

With my grandfather�s name now in the picture, I was ready for more. I was
disappointed that the story did not continue with my grandmother, Antonio and my
grandfather. It stopped for almost two months and when my grandmother made another
entry, it was in the month of June. She never mentioned Antonio or my grandfather.

We are back in Bacolod. Father is not happy with what I had been doing while we
were on vacation. He forced me to go back home and stay at home with my mother. I
received some visitors today. They were my friends from school and they asked me
about my plans for college. I told them I want to become a doctor, but that is not
really what I want. I only told them what they expected to hear.

There was another two-month gap before the next entry and this time, I started to
suspect that there was something wrong.

I�m not allowed to go outside for a while. Father spotted me and Antonio outside
school today and he didn�t like it. Antonio traveled far just to see me. He was
with Ramon. He told me that they will be staying in Bacolod for a long time for
their studies.

My mind was full of questions now. What happened with my grandmother and Antonio?
How did she end up with my grandfather, Ramon?

It�s my first day at school. Father is still not talking to me. Is it right that I
don�t care? He was disappointed that I took up Education. He already told his
friends I will be a doctor. I spent a long time with Antonio today so I had the
time to finally forget my problems for a while.

The last entry was followed by another and I sensed that my grandmother was in love
when she wrote it.

Antonio and I went to the park today. I was afraid people would see us. He took
Ramon with him. We are just three friends hanging out together, he had said. He
gave me my first flowers.

I read a lot of moments between my grandmother and Antonio. I read how they climbed
trees together, how they laughed when Ramon fell in the river, how Antonio taught
my grandmother how to ride the bike, that time when they got lost in the middle of
a sugarcane plantation and she had to go back home late to face her angry
father�there were a lot of �Antonio and I�, pages and pages of them.

It was the next entry after months of happiness together with Antonio that things
started to get tense once again.

I had been happy despite papa�s attitude toward me. I went to the church today and
prayed for things to go well with Antonio and my family. He plans to visit
tomorrow.
The next entry made me feel for my grandmother.

Father didn�t like Antonio. My mother accommodated him, but she too was tense.
Antonio said he would do everything to make my father agree to him.

It would be another month before another entry was made and I was ready to read
what happened.

I haven�t seen Antonio for a week. He had been coming to our house everyday and my
father had started to talk to him. It might be that he had an emergency and he hand
to go home. I asked Ramon at school but he too had no idea where Antonio is.

My grandmother�s heart was broken in the next entry.

Antonio visited me today. He was crying when he said our love can never be. His
parents want him to come home and marry another. I begged him to think about it but
he said they would lose everything if he doesn�t marry. It was a marriage for
convenience, he said.

By the next entry, I finally understood how my grandparents became close.

Ramon is my comfort. He never failed to be beside me whenever he can. I suspect he

knew things would turn out this way, but he never said a word. He never failed to
offer his shoulder for me to cry on.

I took a moment of silence before I continued reading�

Antonio showed up at school today. I wanted to run away but Ramon was there to stop
me. He said that Antonio wants to talk. I don�t want to write everything we talked
about but know that I finally understood his decisions. Our love is not meant to
be. Antonio said that we should write each other a letter and we will read them
together sixty years from now. Surely we will both be healed by then. I agreed. I
poured out everything in that letter. I wrote the dreams I had with him and I also
gave him a message that I pray he will read sixty years from now. I will forever
dearly hold in my heart the love we will always have but can never be.

I felt a tear flow from my eye and I immediately wiped it away.

Antonio wrote to me, another entry said. He said that he secured our letters in a
small steel chest and buried it underneath a tree in their farm in Don Salvador. I
was still hurt that he chose another woman over me. But I can�t do anything. My
father doesn�t have enough money to help his family and for us to have a good life.
I�m still young. I still have a lot of time to grow up and heal.

I did not dare continue. I knew what happened next. I�d heard it several times from
my mother. She had told me how my grandfather helped my grandmother move on from
another relationship, but she never told me about Antonio. I figured no one really
knew of their story apart from my grandparents.

At that moment, I realized I had been reading for a long time that I missed lunch.
I closed the diary, ready to write the eulogy.

A series of knocks rapped the double doors of the room. I looked up from my
computer. �Who is it?�

Just as I said it, the doors opened and came in Erik. No asking for permission,
just simply entering like he owned the place. The longer I was exposed to the man,
the more I was thinking that something was up with him. He was not just an ordinary
driver.

�Don�t you know how to ask for permission to enter?�

He stopped in his tracks in my words. Raising his brows, he gestured with his thumb
asking, �You want me to try again?�

I breathed deeply to control myself. It wouldn�t do me good if I would start

another fight with him. �What do you want?�

�I just came here to say I�m sorry. I can�t imagine how you must feel.�

I did not look at him, my attention back on the speech I was writing.

�Did you hear me?�

�Yeah.�

�And?�

�And what?� this time I threw him a glance.

�Do you forgive me or not?�

�Do I need to answer that? Isn�t it enough you said you�re sorry?�

He seemed confused. �What are you writing?�

That was it. I had to say it. �Why do you have to ask what I�m doing? Is this part
of your job?�

He shook his head. �No, but I�m curious.�

�Keep it to yourself.�

�You�re preparing for the eulogy, aren�t you?�

�Why do you always have to bother me? Don�t you have other people to drive around?�

�Only you,� he answered without blinking an eye.

My brows crossed in thought. �If I ask you to drive me somewhere--anywhere--you

will?�

�As long as it doesn�t include planes and boats, I will.�

I nodded slowly. �Okay. I�ll take that as a promise.�

He looked at me with suspicion. �What are you planning to do?�

�Nothing. It�s just a thought.�

His eyes went to slits as his gazed focused on me. �You are up to something.�

�It�s none of your business�yet.�

�Well, if you are planning to include me in your plan, you better tell me now.
Remember, you don�t have much time left before you go back to Manila.� Hearing
Erick talk in Tagalog was fun for me. He had that Hiligaynon accent that sounded
like he was about to start singing. But when I thought of his words, I agreed that
he was right. I didn�t have much time. And that was also the reason why I had to
think about my idea. I didn�t have much time left--just a day and a half left to be
exact--and I had to really determine my plans fast. But first things first. I had
to get writing the eulogy out of the way before anything else.

I didn�t realize Erick was still standing in the room as I typed away and racked my
brains.

When I heard him clear his throat, I looked up. �You�re still here.�

�Well, you didn�t tell me what you need me for.�

�I might tell you tomorrow. I don�t know. For now, I have to be alone. I�m busy.�

He shrugged his broad shoulders. �Okay, but remember, I am a busy man.�

I snorted. Yeah, busy driving his client which is me since the original one is
about to be buried six feet under the ground tomorrow, God bless her soul.

�You�re not the only busy person here, you know.�

�When we are gone, you will no longer be busy. In fact, you may be out of job.�

He chuckled. �Okay, do whatever you have to do for now.� He slowly backed out of
the room and was gone with the door firmly shut behind him.

Chapter 6

Father Guevarra was as old as my grandmother, maybe older. He walked and talked
like he had all the time in the world but when he talked, everyone was not
sleeping. Everyone had their ears focused on him. He shared with us his own time
with my grandmother, how she used to visit him in church and talk about almost
everything.

�I know everything about Corazon but I�m sorry to say that I am not allowed to tell
you all. What I can share with you though is how she changed the way I see things.
I know it should have been the opposite. Corazon, or Cora as what most of us call
her, had a life that most of us may find not so dramatic but let me tell you, my
dear brothers and sisters, that Cora lived a life that was full of love�� as he
said that last word, Father Guevarra�s eyes darted toward me. I wasn�t sure if he
meant anything by it. �When she was feeling down, she would always say that the
Lord would understand even if others couldn�t. She was a happy woman and we all
love her greatly for pouring all the love she had in her heart in every word and
action that she said and did��

As Father Guevarra continued his words, I couldn�t help but feel that same feeling
of longing. I was not among those who nodded their heads in agreement because I
never knew her.

�When I was young, my mother told me stories,� I said, looking up from my tab to
stare at the crowd of mourners who gathered for my grandmother�s funeral. �She told
me stories of a great woman who I soon learned was my grandmother. Unlucky for me,
I never had the chance to meet her for reasons I am no longer interested to find
out. I have thought for a long time that Wawa didn�t care for me until I found out
days ago that she actually constantly talked to my yaya, asking how I was doing. I
don�t know why the two of them had to keep it a secret, but I want to believe it
was her way of reaching out to her only grandchild.� I took a few moments to
breathe before I continued. �Today, being surrounded by people, who know her more
than I, makes me feel a great deal of regret, jealousy and longing. Regret that it
is too late, that I thought I still had a lot of time to take the courage to reach
out to her. Jealousy that I never felt her love like you all did. And longing for
something, even just a little of that love.�

I was about to end my speech but at the last moment, I closed my tab and delivered
something fresh from my mind. A sudden compulsion came over me and I was no longer
in full control of my words. After everything I have read from my grandmother�s
diary and the more I was yet to read, after all the things that everyone said about
her, after my very own speech, I wanted to do the only thing that had been running
around my mind since yesterday. It was just a tiny thought lurking in the corner of
my thoughts and I never bothered to entertain it until today. With my mind made up,
I continued, �Yes, all is too late for my Wawa and I--too late for the us. But I
believe that it will not be too late for me.� With no more lines to read but my own
made-up mind to control me, I added, �Just two nights ago, I found something of my
grandmother�s that gave me just a little hint of what she really was, from her own
self. From that, I learned about a part of her life that not even my mother knew
and I don�t intend to stop there. As Wawa said, �I laughed, I cried, I fought, I
loved�and now I surrender�� I promise to start a journey of discovering the reasons
for her laughter, her cries, her fight, her love and her surrender. Wawa,� I looked
at her picture beside her closed coffin. �I hope to get to know you soon.�

My decision was final and my father didn�t like it. I talked to him right after the
funeral where I grabbed him and we walked to the back of the chapel. He never
thought that I would take my eulogy seriously. I finally convinced him to respect
my decision after I promised that I would call every day and tell him I was not
dead.

�I need to do this, dad,� I told him.

He nodded in surrender. I knew that deep inside, he agreed with me. And I knew he
was doing it for my mother as well. That was what she wanted after all.

After I left dad with the other visitors, I looked for Erik. Now it was time for us
to make that deal. I found him talking to Rock. They were deep in conversation as
they held their food with one hand. Slowly, I made my way across the room where the
dinner was being held. My black pumps clicked on the tiled floor, stopping just
about a meter away from them.

I cleared my throat and both of them turned their heads toward me.

�Stephanie,� Rock said with a smile. She was wearing a sleeveless, white dress that
stopped just above her knee. I didn�t know that apart from being really pretty, she
was also sexy. I wouldn�t blame Erik for always finding his way to her. �Your
eulogy was touching. It was different, but it was touching.�

I gave her a small smile. �Thanks.� My eyes went to Erik who was wearing a white
polo shirt that perfectly fitted him. There was enough evidence of muscles, but not
enough to content one�s curiosity either. I didn�t know why I even wondered about
that for a second. He had on a pair of denim pants and his hiking shoes which
reminded me that he was not my type. �I need to talk to you,� I told him. I turned
back to Rock and added, �If that�s okay with you, of course.�
She shook her head and smiled widely. �Don�t worry. I was actually thinking of a
way to get away from this guy,� she playfully planted her hand on Erik�s arm as she
backed away with a wink.

Erik just laughed her off before he finally faced me with a questioning look. �Are
you ready to ask for my help?�

I frowned. �No, I�m ready to hire your help.�

�What do you mean?�

�I want to hire you as my driver.�

His brows raised a notch higher. �I thought I already am.�

�No, I mean officially. Well, for the next few days.�

Then his brows fell in confusion. �Aren�t you going home tomorrow?�

�No, I�m not. I�m going to stay for a while.�

�I thought you don�t like me.�

�You�re a good driver. You know Negros well. All you have to do is drive. It is not
your job to get me to like you.�

�Does this have anything to do with your �I hope to get to know you soon� speech?�

�Sort of. So?�

�How will you pay me?�

�I�ll pay you handsomely.�

�I�ll have to think about it.�

�I thought you were ready to say yes?� I asked in frustration. If he didn�t take my
offer, I had no one else in mind to hire for the position and I didn�t trust myself
driving around places I didn�t know.

�I was, yesterday. Now, I don�t know. I may have a lot of things to do.�

�Such as?�

He shrugged. �Stuff.�

I snorted. �You don�t have any other work.�

Again, he shrugged. �I�ll consider your offer.�

�When will you give me your answer?�

�Later,� he said, winked and turned away just like that.

The nerve of the guy!

For a few hours, I had to forget about Erik�s possible refusal. I had to attend to
the guests and then I had to take my father to the airport the next day.

Yaya Sana went with me as I drove us to the airport. Erik was not able to do the
job because he fell asleep in his room and no one even bothered waking him up,
saying he was tired. I wanted to yell at everyone that they were giving the driver
way too much leeway.

�Yaya, are you willing to stay with me for a while as I go about my business here?�
I asked her, thinking of an alternative plan. Dad was checking in and both of us
were waiting for him outside in Bo�s coffee shop.

�I thought you are planning to travel around Negros?�

�Well, I do, but I don�t have anyone to show me the way. I don�t know the province
that well.�

The way yaya Sana looked made my shoulders drop. She couldn�t stay. �I left my
wards in the care of their mother who took a vacation to look after them full time
as I grieve for your Wawa. I have to go back to them, dear.�

I smiled. �That�s okay. I can find someone else.�

�I�m sure Erik will be willing to accompany you,� she sipped her cup of coffee and
grimaced at the taste. �I like the native coffee in Burgos market better.�

Laughing at her remark, I went back to the subject of Erik. �I already asked him. I
said I am willing to pay for his services.�

Yaya Sana looked shocked. �For his services?�

I nodded. �I asked him to be my driver.�

�But I thought you are only looking for someone to be your travel companion.�

�Isn�t it his job to get behind the wheel? I won�t pay someone just to be
comfortable in the passenger seat when he can do the actual driving.� I crossed my
leg over the other.

Yaya Sana looked at me with amusement. �What did Erik say?�

�He said he�ll think about it. Can you imagine that?� I asked in disbelief.

�And what did you offer him as payment?�

�Money, of course. I told him I�ll pay him good.�

My former nanny waved her hand. �Don�t worry, he�ll say yes. And when he does, my
mind will be at ease. I--�

�Yeah, yeah, I know. You trust him with your life.�

Dad went back to catch another cup of coffee before boarding and for the last time,
he asked me to go back home with him.

�Dad, I�ll be home soon. Don�t worry, once my curiosity is satisfied, I�ll be
back.�

�I don�t really like this idea of you going around the province alone.�
�Don�t worry, I�ll be with Erik.� It was a lie of course. I was not sure if the guy
would say yes.

Slowly, he nodded. �That�s good to know.�

That�s good to know? Did I just hear my father, the one man in my life who couldn�t
and wouldn�t trust another when it came to his daughter�s welfare, say that it was
good I would be with someone he barely even knew?

Yaya Sana and I drove back to Bacolod and to my grandparents� ancestral home after
my father�s plane flew to Manila. When we got there and after I parked the van that
used to belong to my grandmother, we found out that Erik had left.

�What? Where?� I asked manang June.

She shrugged. �He left with a backpack. He said he�ll be gone for a couple of
days.�

I turned around in frustration. �Why didn�t he tell me?�

Yaya Sana touched my arm and said in a soothing voice, �Now, calm down, child. I�m
sure he�ll be back.�

�Does he always do this?�

�I�m sure he has a good reason,� my former nanny replied. �You must be tired. I�ll
prepare lunch.�

�I already did. Erik asked to have an early meal before he left,� manang June
interrupted.

�The balls!� I cried out in anger. �Someone should start taming that man!�

The two ladies looked at each other with confusion. Well, if they didn�t understand
my frustration, it was not my problem.

My problem came later that night when Erik was still missing and yaya Sana told me
she had to go back to her wards early in the morning. I spent the night thinking of
a way to do the task I had set up for myself alone, without a driver to guide me.
If Erik wouldn�t show up, I had to come up with a plan B.

I woke up the next day to bid yaya Sana goodbye.

�I hate leaving you this way. Are you sure you are going to be okay?� She was
looking at me with great concern.

I nodded, but at the same time I wanted to beg her to stay. Selfish I may be, I
knew yaya Sana had a life of her own and I wouldn�t want her worried for her wards.
She had to go on her way and so did I.

�You have my number in case you really need me,� she reminded as she grabbed her
bags, ready to leave.

I hugged her tight. �I�ll see you before I go back to Manila.�

She touched my face with her calloused hand and said, �Okay. Take care of
yourself.�

The moment she was gone, I attacked my breakfast, ready for battle. I asked manang
June for directions to the closest bookstore. I found it after making three wrong
turns, one of them into a one-way street.

Don�t think I didn�t ask manang June to be my guide for my planned trip because I
did and she refused, saying she couldn�t leave the home unattended. Yeah, like she
had to prepare food for ghosts. I wondered what would happen to the house now that
my grandmother was dead.

Maybe that was the reason why Erik left. For all I knew, he was already looking for
a new permanent work. I wouldn�t blame him.

My grandmother�s attorney said he would meet me when all was set. He could take all
the time he needed. Since no other family member showed up to do the work, I took
it my responsibility to make sure that the house would not crumble to the ground
due to lack of maintenance.

When I entered the small bookstore which smelled of old, drafty pages, I went
straight to the counter and asked in Tagalog, �Do you have a big map of Negros?�

The girl behind the counter put down the book she was reading. I stole a glance of
the cover and shrugged. It was a historical romance, the type which has a woman
barely covered in cloth hugging a man who only has his trousers on, nuzzling her
neck. I cringed and followed the lady to the farthest corner of the store. She went
down to get what I was looking for and handed it to me. Contented, I went to the
school supplies section. I took what I thought I needed which were a marking pen, a
pencil and a plain notebook. As the lady punched my purchases, I took a book on
display in my hand. It was a book on Negros Occidental, primarily written for
tourists.

�I�ll take this, too,� I said with a smile.

After I paid, I put my sunglasses back on and walked out the store. I felt like one
of those women in action films who were about to go to battle.

When I arrived for lunch, I was very ready. Being alone gave me the motivation to
take my plans into action.

Manang June already prepared my lunch and after a hurried meal, I went straight up
to my mother�s old room and sat cross-legged on the floor, the large map laid out
before my. I took the marker out of the paper bag along with the pencil and the
notebook. My grandmother�s dairy was inside my bag so I took that one out as well.

I listed down every place she mentioned and marked each one on the map.

�Wow,� I breathed out. �You�ve been in a lot of places, Wawa.�

I didn�t know where to start. Where should I?

Follow where the diary leads you, dimwit.

But if I did that, I would be going back and forth in a lot of places and that
would be a great waste of time.
When I couldn�t make up my mind, I decided to take a break and continued to read
the diary. Of course, there were no more exciting things to read since there was no
Antonio in the picture. What I found out though was how my grandmother tried to
forget about the first love of her life with the help of his best friend, Ramon.

I was about to close the book that held my grandmother�s innermost thoughts when I
saw Antonio�s name. After almost a year of entry has passed since my grandmother
wrote the name.

He sent me a letter, diary. Antonio sent me a letter. Everything is going well with
Ramon and I love him dearly. But I must admit that the love I have for Antonio is
still there. I cannot get myself to read the letter. I didn�t tell Ramon about it
because I don�t want him to worry. Antonio has chosen a different path, one that
would save his family. If only he had chosen me.

That entry was disappointing, but I continued to read the next one.

I read the letter and I am angry. He talked about visiting the tree where he buried
the chest where our letters are kept. He referred to it as our �time capsule�. I
regret ever reading the letter because I am now aware that he still thinks about us
every day. Why did he send me that letter? I don�t want anything to hold me back
from my decision of marrying Ramon. I want to love Ramon like I do Antonio. I
desperately want to give him the same love he is giving me. If only I can forget
about Antonio.

After I read the entry, I didn�t know what to feel. Did my grandmother marry my
grandfather while loving someone else?

I finally decided not to answer Antonio�s letter. I�m marrying Ramon and my parents
are happy about it. They said that it is time for me to be with someone else. Ramon
asked if I want to invite Antonio to our wedding. He�s a really good man despite
his mean features. He did not question me when I said no. The next time I face and
talk to Antonio, it will be on the day that we promised to open the letters we
wrote for each other. And when that time comes, I will be a happy woman. I will
already have my own children and grandchildren. I will be someone who loved a man
named Antonio and a woman who managed to survive with the help of a great man.

Why couldn�t she just fight for their love? Why did she have to continue hurting?
My answers were answered by the next entry.

I fought as hard as I could, diary. I fought for my own happiness without Antonio
in it. Maybe I will regret not fighting hard enough for our love in the future, but
I don�t care. I can still be happy by making others who love me happy. I promise to
make Ramon happy for the rest of our lives together. I will not think about Antonio
for the next sixty years until I will meet him, both of us with white hairs. By
then, I know that we will find our letters stupid. We will be wise by then. For
now, I say goodbye to the man whom I will forever love, a love that I now admit can
never be erased.

When I had enough of reading, I stood up and walked to the doors. When I opened
them, I saw Erik standing just a foot away, his fist in the air as if he was just
about to knock.

�Hi,� he said with a big smile on his face.

Chapter 7
�What are you doing here?� I asked, arching my eyebrow as high as I could, placing
one hand on my hip.

�I decided I�ll take that offer,� he answered, smiling that rugged smile he always
wore. If it was in a much better situation and if I was in a much better mood, I
might have given into that smile. Hell, it was even worth a kiss.

He looked fresh with his white shirt and faded jeans. His hair appeared to be still
damp from the shower. How could a driver look that good?

�I decided I don�t need your services anymore,� I shot at him, pushing my hands
against his chest so I could step out of the room and walk away. I kept my hands in
fists at my sides, forcing them to behave. They so desperately wanted to go back up
on those manly chests.

He followed me along the hallway, his footsteps on the wooden floors heavier than
mine. �Come on, you know you need me.�

�What made you think that I still do?� I asked, looking straight ahead.

He caught up with me, walking with half his body facing my side. �You need a
driver. Don�t tell me you�ve managed to know every nook of Negros in a day.�

�One day and a half. You�ve been gone one day and a half.�

�Have you been keeping an eye on me?� he asked, his voice teasing.

�In fact, yes I have. It�s not easy to be left alone by the only person who can
help you.�

�Come on!� he hastened his steps and stepped right in front of me.

�Get out of my way. And get out of the house. Your services are no longer needed.�

�So you�re going all on your own?� his voice changed, challenging me.

�With a map.�

�Does your map talk?�

�No, but it stays in place and I can easily find it whenever I need it.�

�Can it actually walk you through the secret passages?� He blocked my path.

�I have a mouth. I can ask.� I pushed my way around him, this time harder.

�Well, I hope your map can protect you when danger comes along.� Now, that one made
me stop. Damn it, he got me on that one. �Well?� he asked once again.

I whirled around, my gaze boring through his head. �Why did you leave without a
word?�

�I had to take care of some things before I decide to go with you.�

�What things could you possible take care of?� Did he have a wife and children to
look after?

�It�s nothing that concerns you. So, can I be your driver? I don�t want your
father�s hands on my neck if something bad happens to you out there.�

He had a point. All along, my father was thinking I would be with him. Whatever did
he feed my dad to make him trust him?

�I would reconsider rehiring you if you promise not to do what you did again. Not
ever. I don�t like it when my plans get messed up.�

He held up his right hand. �I promise.� And there was that ice-melting smile again.
I quickly nodded and walked away before I did anything I would only regret later.

�So, what�s your plan really?� He asked, casually following my steps as I descended
down the stairs.

�Nothing that concerns you,� I threw him back the same words he used earlier.

�I would want something specific since it does concern me. I will be your driver,
remember?�

�I�ll tell you where to go, you get me there. You ask �where� and not �why�.�

�You�ll tell me sooner or later.�

�No, I won�t.�

�Yes, you will.�

I stopped, turned and looked at him with sarcasm. �You�re actually blowing my mind
with your confidence.�

�You don�t know me that much to say that, but hey, we�ll have a lot of time
together so don�t rush.�

He left me stunned and my mouth hanging open. He was laughing as he skipped his way
down the stairs.

�Are you ready? Where�s your bag?� I asked Erik when I finally managed to bring my
luggage, a mustard-colored suitcase, down the stairs.

All the time I was struggling, he was looking from the landing with amusement. Of
course he didn�t help. That was just him.

�I don�t need a lot like you obviously do.�

�We�ll be gone for two weeks. I will need a lot of things.�

He laughed lightly. �You know, you should learn a few things about traveling. One,
you need yourself. Two, you need direction. Three, you don�t need a suitcase. What
did you put inside that? Your whole wardrobe?�

Arching my brow, I said, �Yeah, laugh all you want. You will ask me for something
from this suitcase anytime soon.�

�I don�t think so. Come on, we�ll be late.� With that, he turned around and walked
to the door.

�I don�t want to ride on the truck. I want the van.�

�The truck�s faster. Unless you want to get to your destinations in a month, we use
the truck.�

Manang June hurried after us with a basket. �Take this. You�ll need food.�

�Now that�s what I�m talking about! Thanks, manang,� Erik said, taking the basket
from the old lady. �We�ll be back in no time.�

�Please be careful, hijo. Don�t let anything happen to Stephanie.�

�I promise,� he said with a wink and planted a big kiss on the lady�s cheek.

�If you need anything, manang, just call. You have my number.�

The lady nodded with a smile. �Now go while there�s still day light.�

When I opened the back of the truck, Erik�s backpack was already there. I thought
it was not big enough but then, who would suffer? Not me, I was sure of it. Without
his help, I lifted my suitcase from the ground and threw it inside. I then circled
to the passenger side and right there, sitting on the seat where I was supposed to
be was the basket. Erik was already behind the wheel, sunglasses on. You wouldn�t
want to know how hot he looked with that thing.

�What�s this?�

�You heard manang, right? It�s our food.�

�And where do you think I should sit?�

He frowned. �Well, can�t you learn how to adjust? Put it on your lap.�

�You will never get a bonus from me after we�re done!� I almost screamed as I
lifted the basket and held it on my lap.

The only thing I got from him was a smirk.

�Where are we going?�

�I already told you. We�ll travel to the places I marked on the map. Simple as
that.�

�So,� he said, trying to remember the map. �We first go to Bago.�

�Yes,� I said, trying to be patient.

�How does it have anything to do with your grandmother? As far as I know she never
went there.�

�She went there for a week, I think.�

�Did the thing you found, the one of her possession, tell you that?�

�Yes,� I answered just so he would stop his questions.

�Okay,� he said, finally shutting his mouth. A very long awkward silence followed
and when he broke the silence, I was almost thankful. �Bago is a thriving city. I�m
from there.�

My eyebrows rose but even though I desperately wanted to ask more questions, I
said, �Yeah, whatever.�

�Where in Bago, specifically?�

�The Luzuriaga residence.�

He frowned. �Why would you like to go there?�

�I told you not to ask a lot of questions. Since you�re from there, do you know
where the Luzuriagas live? I think I remembered my father introducing me to them.�

He just nodded. �Why would you like to visit them?�

�I�m not visiting. We�re just going to pass by. They may be able to tell me some
stuff. And then we�re off to Dumaguete.�

�I don�t think it�s a good idea. Your grandmother--�

�I don�t care, okay? Just take me to the Luzuriagas.�

He started to say something but then stopped himself. �Fine,� he uttered. That was
weird. He should have said at least a hundred words by now yet he didn�t.

The ride to Bago was not as long as I had anticipated. We left the house around
three in the afternoon, passed by smaller towns and at around four, I saw the big
sign that welcomed us into the city.

�Weird. A cemetery in the middle of the street?� I asked, looking to my left at his
side of the window. I noted white concrete tombs and a few colorful umbrellas of
the visitors of the dead.

�No, just two roads making their way around the cemetery.�

�It�s still the same.�

He shrugged.

I found his mood worse than the usual. I was not used to the silent, one-word,
Erik. Was he thinking about quitting the driver position? Was he planning to leave
me in the middle of the road? For all I knew, he might already have been planning
my death and he would bury me in that public cemetery.

We passed by the buzzing public market of Bago. Tricycles, motorbikes with an

extended carriage at the side to provide more room for more passengers, were
everywhere. Mini-buses honked through the different noises created by vendors
screaming over their lungs to attract customers to buy fresh vegetables, fruits,
slippers--almost anything. People, school children mostly, walked in a much slower
pace, most of them holding their own umbrellas to protect themselves from the heat
of the sun. The market was almost close to the ones I saw in Manila, but the
difference was the slow pace and the lack of black smoke. Hell, I could even open
the window and I wouldn�t worry about my hair getting sticky with dirt.

When we managed to escape the market road, Erik drove straight and turned left
after the big Catholic church where balloon vendors walked around while popcorns
packed in clear plastics dangled over their shoulders, all tied to a straw string
to hold them all together in one place.
�Are we there yet?� I asked excitedly, anticipating the moment that I would meet
the people who might be able to tell me more about my mother and Antonio.

�We still have to drive for another thirty minutes or so.�

�I thought we�re already in Bago.�

�We are going to the Luzuriagas. They live far from city proper.�

I sighed in disappointment and fell back against my seat. �Well, at least we have
food.� I opened the basket prepared by manang June and I saw an assortment of local
foods.

There were a lot of them, most of them unfamiliar to me, but I decided on the bread
since I could feel my stomach churning nothing but gastric juices.

�Do you want anything?� I offered when Erik did not say a word.

He shook his head.

�What�s wrong with you?�

�What?�

�I asked, what�s wrong with you?�

�Nothing,� he answered after a big pause. �I just think it�s not a good idea to go
to the Luzuriagas at this time of day. They are very busy people.�

�How would you know that? I�m sure they wouldn�t mind. They seemed friendly to my
dad.�

�I was just thinking--�

�Just take us to their house and then we�ll see, okay? And when did you start to
care what people would feel when you intrude?�

He did not say another word. Really, what was wrong with him?

We passed by a bridge and the sight below almost took my breath away. I was not the
photography maniac kind of girl, but the sight of those little boats by the
riverbank was something. I wanted to stop and take a snap of the scene.

�Why are some of those boats loaded with sand?�

�They sell those.�

�Construction?�

�Yes.�

I was getting really annoyed with this one-question-one-answer drama. Well, I asked
for it, didn�t I? Maybe he was just doing me a favor.

Erik did not seem like he was in a hurry because he took his precious time as if he
was driving an old woman with bone cancer.

�Can we like hurry up? Do we have an invisible care before us that we would happen
to crash if you step on that gas?�

�I thought you were enjoying the scenery,� he said, looking at me and throwing me
the first smile since he started his �silent Erik� drama.

�I was. But I would enjoy a faster ride now.�

�There are a lot of ten-wheelers out here. We have to be careful.�

�You said we�d reach the Luzuriagas in thirty minutes. Our thirty minutes is almost
over and all I see is green.� I looked left and right and I saw rice fields
everywhere.

�They own a few hectares of land here so expect they live in the middle of a rice
field.�

�They what?� Okay, now that alarmed me. I didn�t see a single hotel nearby that we
could sleep in and having to spend the night in the middle of the rice field did
not appeal to me.

�You still want to come?� he asked, his voice almost hopeful.

�Why do you want me to back out? What�s wrong with you? Are you in anyway not in
good terms with the Luzuriagas? Just tell me because I would completely understand
why.� I looked at him with sarcasm.

�Nothing like that,� he said as he turned the truck to the right. That was when I
started to really get anxious. It was the road I had been afraid of--rocky, dry and
dusty road.

�Isn�t there any other way?� I asked, holding on to the basket firmly as the truck
bounced forward.

�There is, but it is worse than this one.�

I did not dare comment. I had to concentrate. I still had time to say we better go
and find a hotel, an inn--whatever.

�We�re almost there,� he said as we finally reached a concrete road just before a
tiny elementary public school. There were children in rubber slippers and plastic
bags with books and notebooks inside walking beside the street. Three girls stopped
to look at our truck, jumping and waving their hands. I knew they couldn�t see us
through the tinted windows, but I couldn�t help but smile. They were happy to see
strangers. What a great, welcoming community, I thought.

Another rocky road tested me and I was almost ready to say he was right and we
should do this another time, maybe when we went back from Dumaguete or something,
when I saw a house from far away.

�Is that it?� I asked, hopeful that I was right. That there was a concrete house
right in the middle of a rice field. And there was electricity.

�Yes,� he answered with a nod.

So there went my plans to find a hotel out the window. I was going to meet the
Luzuriagas.

There was a big island in the middle of the rice field and in the middle stood the
big house. The lights downstairs were lit but there seemed to be no one around. A
dirt road served as a driveway to the island and Erik drove through it
effortlessly.

There were no gates. All you had to do was drive right through and steal
everything. Really, didn�t people have to worry about security around here?

�I don�t think anyone�s home,� Erik said, finally stopping the truck.

�Let�s go anyway.� I did not give any warning. I threw the unfinished bread I
forgot I was still holding into the basket and climbed out of the truck in my flat
black shoes.

Erik took his precious time before he followed me. A man dressed in a long-sleeve
shirt was walking toward us. He was smiling as he took his tattered cap off. As I
was just about to open my mouth to greet him good day, he walked straight to Erik
who was about a meter away from me.

�Sir Erik, I thought you�ll be gone for a few days?� Asked the man in Hiligaynon.
The words I was about to say were trapped in my throat.

Chapter 8

A lot of things ran through my mind. Maybe the man just called everyone sir. Or
maybe he just knew Erik since they lived in the same city. But something deep
inside me knew what was going on. By the way the man talked to Erik, I just knew
that he was calling Erik �sir� because he was his boss.

�Amo na ang plano pero ang upod ko gusto magstorya sa ginikanan ko,� I was finally
able to hear Erik talk in Hiligaynon and as he said that, he glanced at my
direction. He didn�t know I understood every word which translated to, �That�s the
plan but my companion wants to talk to my parents.�

I was held speechless and I led them to believe that they were talking in codes, in
a language I couldn�t comprehend. I turned around and pretended to glance at the
orange sky. It would have been a fantastic view, but my other senses wouldn�t
cooperate because my ears were keeping me busy.

�Just tell her they�re not here,� he instructed the man in that sing-song tone of
his I was starting to like.

�Well, that�s true. They�re not here.�

�Where did they go?�

�Back to Bacolod. I thought they told you.�

�I didn�t get any messages. Anyway, I�ll just tell my friend the truth then.�

I kept myself busy in studying my flat shoes which were now covered with dirt. The
ground I was standing on was moist. I should have worn boots or something.

�Hey, the man said they�re not here.� He spoke to me in Tagalog.

�So what should we do now?� I asked, not wanting to say more. How would I say it?
How would I tell him that I was pissed he tricked me to believing he was a freaking
driver? Shame enveloped me when I remembered I offered to pay him in cash. Great.
Like he needed it.
�We go on our way,� he said. Clearly, he didn�t want to stay and give me the chance
to find out he owned the place.

�It�s getting dark,� I said as an idea popped in my head. I should have thought of
it sooner. If I couldn�t punish him for fooling me, then I should prolong his
discomfort of keeping a secret. �Hold on for a while,� I went back to the truck,
grabbed my bag and took out my phone. I dialed my father�s number. �Hey, dad, it�s
me. Yes, I�m fine. How about you? Good,� I said as I listened to my father�s words,
trying not to look at Erik who was getting more anxious by each second. The man was
still beside him, waiting for more orders. �Look, I have a favor. I�m in Bago,
specifically the Luzuriagas� place. Yes, I know, but they�re not here. I don�t want
to find a hotel or inn at this hour. Can you call them and ask if Erik and I can
stay here?�

�Doesn�t Erik have a say on this?� My father asked. My mouth fell open.

�You know?� I couldn�t believe it. So, I was the only one who didn't know?

�Know what?�

�Never mind. Just ask the Luzuriagas. I don�t want them to be surprised when they
learn about my stay.�

�She doesn�t know?� I heard the man ask Erik.

�No,� he answered, looking at me like he was mentally wringing my neck.

�Great!� I exclaimed when my father said yes and that he would get back to me as
soon as he could.

�What do you think are you doing? Asking to sleep in a house of people you barely
know and who aren�t even here?� he asked, frustrated. Was he that desperate to keep
his secret Ritchie Rich identity a secret?

�Relax. They are old friends of my dad and they will gladly say yes.�

Before he could open his mouth, my phone rang. �Dad,� I answered, turning around
with a wicked smile pasted on my face. �They did? That�s great! Thank you so much!
Okay, yes, we�ll be careful. Bye.�

When I turned around, Erik was pacing. �I can�t believe this,� he said.

�Well, they said yes. They said they�ll call Danny to let us in.�

The man beside Erik looked up. He was probably the Danny I was talking about. His
eyes went to Erik who did not dare look at him. And then the man�s phone rang in
his pocket. He took out an old model of a Nokia phone. He walked away as he
answered and when he came back, he was looking at Erik with a sorry face.

�They said you--� a glance from Erik made him stop and when he continued, he said,
�I mean the two of you can come inside. Feel at home,� he said in Tagalog.

�Great!� I followed the man to the house, leaving Erik to deal with his problem,
one he didn�t know I already knew.

Manong Danny showed me to the guestroom located upstairs. The house was made of
hard wood and I was really impressed. Everything was screaming rich and Erik was
not even proud of it? I didn�t know where Erik�s room was, but I did not bother to
ask. He led me to believe there was another guestroom given to him by manong Danny.

Dinner was fantastic as well. Native chicken stewed with papaya and some sort of
leaves cooked in clay pot. When I was nearly done with dinner, Erik excused himself
and went upstairs. He was clearly not fond of the idea that I was inside his home.
I took my time with dessert which I found in manang June�s basket. I ate about
three Napoleones, a fried pastry with creamy filling glazed with white, liquid
sugar. When I thought Erik was not coming back downstairs, I went up to my room and
then I realized I left my suitcase in the truck.

Manong Danny was nowhere to be found when I arrived downstairs. I looked for him
but he was no longer there. He must have retired in his quarters. I had two
choices. Get to the truck alone or ask Erik to go with me.

I tried the Nara door but when I realized how dark it was outside, with only the
moonlight as the guide, I closed it again. I didn�t know what the grasses were
hiding underneath them. Snakes, snails, frogs, worms and every little thing gross.
Okay, I had to go with option two.

�Erik!� I screamed when I reached the top of the staircase. Well, I didn�t know
where he slept and I was not ready to knock on every door. �Erik!� I tried once
more.

The door right next to my room opened and came out Erik in his--I had to gulp
down--boxers. The man knew he was alone in a house with a lady with breeding and he
decided to come out of that room in boxers? Did he think I grew up in a monastery?

�What?� he snapped. Obviously, he was still pissed that we had to sleep in his
home.

�I forgot my suitcase.�

He did not say another word. He disappeared in his room and when he came back, I
smiled. I just had to because I was asking the man for a favor. But before I could
say thank you, he threw a set of keys at my direction. And of course, I didn�t
catch it. �Hey! Watch it!� I cried, jumping away when the keys landed a few inches
from my foot.

�Go get it yourself,� he said before he shut the door.

�Urgh!� I screamed as I stormed forward to give his door a kick. �You�ll pay for
this!�

�I don�t care!� his muffled voice answered behind the door.

�Urgh!� I screamed, stomping my feet back to the keys, picked them up and made my
way downstairs. Fear started to creep up once again as I made my way to the door.
There was an eerie silence and when I opened the doors, the wind blew on my face.
Cold, stingy wind. �You can do this, Steph,� I murmured to myself, taking the first
step outside.

I forced my feet to take three more steps until I reached the lawn. A frog jumped
on my foot and I cried at the top of my lungs. The strong wind blew away my scream
and I had no choice but to run my way to the truck parked fifteen meters away. I
could still feel the cold, slimy spot the frog had left on my foot. Why did it have
to be so far?

I pushed the remote as I neared, the truck beeped and the light almost blinded me.
Opening the back door, I pulled my suitcase out. Once done, I slammed the door shut
and locked the truck.

�Come on, come on,� I muttered, pulling my suitcase across the uneven ground and I
could hear my suitcase bump against stones. My flats were probably ruined now.
Goodbye, two-thousand pesos flats. I should have brought along my boots.

Before I reached the door, I heard some rustling sound to my right. As I

remembered, there was nothing there but bushes.

There it was again--the rustling.

I didn�t know what came over me but I looked and then I saw him. A big silhouette
of a man, running toward me.

�Erik!� I screamed as loud as I could, but the man only ran faster. And then he
stopped. He looked like he was carrying something big in his arms. When I screamed
Erik�s name again, he turned to his left and ran away.

�Erik!� I tried once more, frozen to my spot. The air stilled around me.

�What the hell, Stephanie! I�m trying to sleep! I told you about the suitcase,
didn�t I? You should have not brought it along--�

�I saw a man! I saw someone!�

�What?�

�He went there! I swear I saw him!�

�No one else is here but you, me and manong Danny.�

�I�m not kidding! I saw someone from that corner. He was carrying something and
then he ran toward me and then that way!� I pointed to the left where the man
disappeared.

Erik was frowning and he was still in his boxers and white shirt. God, didn�t he
feel cold wearing nothing but those?

�Come inside,� he ordered, taking my suitcase in his hand.

�Why, you are such a gentleman, thank you.�

He did not give a comment and closed the door behind us instead. �Go up to your
room and don�t come out. I�ll go get manong Danny.�

�Is something wrong? Was that a thief?�

�Just go to your room.�

�Has this happened before? Tell me, did you have this case before?�

�What do you mean?� he asked, not meeting my gaze.

I breathed out in frustration. �Come on, Erik, you don�t have to continue your
charade. I know you own this damned place.�

He looked surprised. �How did--�

�I can understand Hiligaynon, okay?�

�Really?� he asked, startled. He was speaking in Hiligaynon again.

�Oo,� I answered a Hiligaynon yes. �Now, just tell me, has this happened before?�

�Yes.�

�Oh my God! You�ve been robbed before and you did not think of putting on a
security system?�

�Just shut up. I can handle this. Go to your room.�

�I can�t believe it!�

�Go to your room!� he screamed.

�Hey, I know you are not a freaking driver. That doesn�t mean you can order me
around.�

�Then why do you have to make this difficult?� he asked and I thought I was loving
his Hiligaynon tone.

�You can say please.�

�Please?� His tone was sarcastic but I took it.

�Your suitcase,� he reminded me and I turned back to grab my bulky luggage.

I finally reached the top of the staircase when I heard manong Danny and Erik
talking. I looked down only to meet Erik�s gaze. �Inside your room, Stephanie.�

I rolled my eyes and went inside the guest room. �Now, what do I do?� As the men
try to find the thief outside, I had to stay and be safe inside. I opened the
suitcase, took out my sleeping shirt and shorts and went to the bathroom. We were
not on the road that long, but my body was already tired.

Without anything to do since there was no television and I knew there was no
internet either, I grabbed my grandmother�s diary and decided to scan through it
again.

I read some of my favorite entries, like what readers would often do if they
couldn�t get over the book they had read. Reading the moments my grandmother had
with Antonio was my favorite pastime at the moment.

We went to the rice fields today. Antonio and his family own a farm in Don
Salvador. It is summer and I told my father I will be going out with friends. I
feel bad lying to my father, but I don�t regret my decision to go with Antonio. We
joined the workers as they planted and it was fun. Dirty, but fun. It was the first
time I didn�t care that I looked rugged because the people didn�t care.

I didn�t know how long I had been reading but a knock on the door made me jump on
the bed. �Who is it?� I asked aloud.

�It�s me, Erik.�

Tension left me as I walked to the door and opened it. I was disappointed to see
that he changed to a pair of jeans. �Did you catch him? What did he steal?�

He shook his head. �No. He stole a goat. And I think we have to stay for a few more
days before we go on our journey. I have to settle things here before we can go.�

�What things?�

He frowned. �Just things,� he said.

�About the theft?�

�That and more.�

�Like what?�

�You ask your driver too many questions, don�t you?� he asked with a smile. Now
that he knew he had nothing to hide, he was almost back to normal.

�What do you expect me to do while we stay here for a few days?�

�Stay inside and do whatever city girls do whenever they are alone.�

I furiously shook my head. �I am not staying here alone! What if that man comes
back? What if he takes me this time? I will be a bigger catch, you know.�

He laughed so hard I wanted to kick him out the doorway. �Nobody knows who you are
around here, Stephanie.�

�Still, I don�t want to stay here.�

�So, you are going to go with me?�

�Why? Where are you going?�

�Everywhere there needs help. I need to make sure nothing like last night happens
again.�

�Okay, I�ll go with you.�

He looked at me with a wicked grin. �Well, then, you better get some sleep because
you will have a big day tomorrow.�

That did not sound really great.

Chapter 9

�What are you wearing?� Erik asked soon after he took a good--careful--look at me.

I stopped in my tracks and looked down at myself. I wore an orange-and-yellow

summer dress, spaghetti straps of course, and gold sandals. I had to wash my flats
from yesterday on my own, in the bathroom, and now they were getting dry out in the
balcony. Since I loved my dress and my sandals, I decided to curl my hair. Hey, it
was summer time!

I frowned and stared back at Erik. �What�s wrong with this?�

�Are you sure you are not going to change?�

I rolled my eyes. �I can manage anything with this look, okay?�

He shrugged and pointed at the dishes on the table. He was already half-way through
his breakfast. �Help yourself. Eat a lot. We won�t know when our next meal is.�

The table was full of, well, things I didn�t recognize. I knew the usual breakfast
like eggs, corned beef, tapa, orange juice, coffee, etcetera. But I didn�t
recognize a thing on that table, except the rice.

�I don�t think I can eat these,� I said when I got a good smell.

He looked at me with disbelief. �That�s just uga.� He said in Hiligaynon.

�Uga?�

�Dried fish?� he tried again.

I cringed. �I don�t eat that.�

�Have you tried?�

�No, but I--�

�Then let this be the first time that you do,� he said, pushing a plate toward me.
�Eat. I won�t have anything for you to eat later.�

�Are there no more eggs�� when I saw the look on his face, I stopped and sighed.
�Fine.� I grumpily sat down and looked at the tiny dried fishes. How could someone
like Erik, a man who owns hectares of rice and sugarcane plantation, eat this?

�As what they say, it is not what enters your mouth that matters. It�s what goes
out.� He winked before he fed his mouth with rice and a piece of dried fish with
his hand.

I looked at him with as much sarcasm as I could. �Like when I puke?�

�Really? You want to start talking dirty during a meal?�

I did not answer. Instead, I scooped some rice and took a piece of dried fish. My
face was not worth a peso as looked at the foul-smelling fish.

�You don�t have to look like you are eating poison. You should at least be thankful
you have something to eat this morning. Not a lot of people get to have a proper
meal.�

�Oh my God, don�t tell me you�re giving me the �every-grain-of-rice-is-someone-

else�s-blood-and-sweat� speech.�

His expression turned serious as he stared at me. �You don�t know how much people
go through everyday just so you can eat that rice.�

�Hey, I didn�t mean to offend anyone. I�m just saying I�ve had enough of that
speech. Yeah, yeah, I respect the workers, but it�s not my fault they are the way
they are as it is not my fault to not like everything they worked hard for.�

�You have lived in a completely different world.�

�I�ve had my own share of sufferings.�

He arched an eyebrow. �Really?�

�Yeah, like eating this dried fish.�

He chuckled. �Just eat. You�ll like it. Dip it in vinegar.�

He pushed a bowl of vinegar near my plate. �Erik, I don�t think I can eat this.�

�Then don�t. But I�m telling you, it is not easy to find food later.�

I contemplated for a long time before I decided to pick up the dried fish.

�Use your hands,� he said, showing me his.

�I�ll use the spoon, thanks,� I said. It was enough to be forced to eat the dried
fish. It would have been too much to use my hands.

�Where are we going?� I had to ask. We had been driving through the rocky road for
almost half an hour now and I didn�t see any sign of stopping. I adjusted my
sunglasses which kept on slipping down my noise every time the truck hit large
rocks.

�Just stop asking too many questions,� Erik answered with a wicked smile. He was
enjoying it. He was enjoying my agony.

�I have to ask! I don�t know where you are taking me.�

�Then you should have stayed in the house. It is a lot more comfortable, isn�t it?�

�I don�t want to be left there alone,� I mumbled. �Do you own this truck?� I had to
ask that one as well. There had to be a reason why the truck was too high. I first
thought it was my grandmother�s but then I realized, anyone over sixty couldn�t
climb the thing.

Erik just nodded. �Hold on,� he warned as he drove over a large puddle of mud.

�Ouch!� I cried.

�Don�t say I didn�t warn you,� he smirked. Shit, he looked great with that smirk
and those sunglasses.

Just as when I was about to ask for a break from the crazy ride, the truck stopped.

�We�re here?� I asked, looking out the window. I saw some workers wearing wide-brim
hats made out of straw bending down, planting rice. Half of their legs were buried
in mud.

�Yes,� Erik answered, turning off the engine.

�Wait! I think I�ll stay here,� I said when I realized there was nowhere for me to
rest or even sit down.

�Hey, I�m not wasting my truck�s energy just so you can stay cool inside. It�s
either you go out there or you open the windows and stay here.�

�Fine! I�ll stay here!�

�Be my guest,� he said, opened the windows. Unluckily for me, he took out the keys.
�Don�t even think about it.�
I huffed and turned away as he slammed the door behind him. I watched him make his
way through one of the narrow paths that separated the rice fields. They were mud
piled and dried just for that purpose. They looked like boxes and inside them were
sticky mud where the rice had to be planted. I never really learned how the process
went, but I was certain they had to stay as muddy and wet as possible for the rice
plants to grow. A man wearing the same hat as the others ran to meet Erik. His feet
were painted the same color as the mud. They talked for a while and Erik continued
on his way.

Where the hell is he going?

He was walking further and further away. I started to feel the heat inside the
truck despite the open windows. Sweat trickled down my chin and that was when I
decided to go out. I hesitated for a moment when I noticed my gold sandals.

�Oh, my poor babies,� I cried out for them. They were made to strut down concrete,
tiled floors. Not some dry, dusty and uneven ground.

Good thing I brought along my own yellow wide-brim hat. I followed Erik�s path
uneasily and stopped just a foot away from the narrow path. �Erik!� I called out.
The workers turned their heads at my direction when they heard my voice. Some of
them had amused looks on their shadowed faces while others just looked at me with
great curiosity. But one thing I noticed: no one dared move to help me with my
dilemma.

I looked at the point where the narrow path which separated two large boxes of mud
was. How the hell was I supposed to walk through it without falling into either
side? The curious spectators continued to look at me, holding a bunch of green
grass which I assumed would soon be harvested for rice. The heat of the sun was
starting to sting my bare shoulders.

�Erik!� I called out once more. He looked over my shoulders and motioned with his
hand. That was it? No turning back and rescuing me?

When some of the workers, the females specifically, started to giggle, I squared my
shoulders and took my first step into the narrow path. I spread my arms at both
sides to balance my body as I slowly and painfully walked my way forward. There was
no turning back now because for one, I didn�t know how to freaking make the turn
without diving into the mud and second, I didn�t want people to think I was a
weakling.

�Erik!� I cried in frustration. My voice was shaking while my mind tried to brush
away the thought of me falling.

�Hurry!� He cried back.

�Wait for me!�

He was laughing now and it irritated me. He must have planned this. He must have!

By the time I managed to get a hold of my balance and walk more steadily, the
workers turned their attention back on their work. At that moment, I envied their
long-sleeve shirts. I should have put on some sunscreen.

�Congratulations, Steph! You did it!� He was laughing so hard I knew he was mocking
me.
�Shut up! You planned this, didn�t you?� I asked, narrowing my gaze.

�Of course I didn�t. Who would have thought you found it hard to walk through a
cajon?�

Cajon, so they called the pathway that. Well, the word was Spanish and it
translates to �box�.

�Where are we going? What work are you going to do here?� I feared that he would
start joining the workers planting rice.

�I have to talk to some people. Not all of them have phones, you know. Stay over
there and wait for me.� He pointed at a big tree about three more large boxes of
mud away. And each box was about twenty meters in length.

I groaned but did not comment further. I didn�t want to waste my energy arguing
because it was actually my fault. I should have stayed in the house and risk being
kidnapped.

�I told you not to wear that dress!� he shouted behind me and I ignored him.

In the middle of the wide rice field was a little island, pretty much the same as
the one where Erik�s house was standing on. This one was just smaller. I walked to
the big mango tree and was glad to know it offered a nice shade for me to rest.

�Payback�s a bitch,� I grumbled as I sat down on the large root of the tree.

�Good morning, ma�am,� someone said behind me and I jumped in surprise.

�Good morning,� I said to the old lady. She was carrying a broomstick and I noticed
there was a small hut made of nipa, a common material in rural towns which is made
of dried coconut leaves. �You live here?� I asked in Tagalog.

She nodded. �You are with sir Erik?� she asked in Hiligaynon. Most non-Tagalog
people are shy to speak the national language and I saw by the look on the old
lady�s face that she was hoping I would understand.

�Yes,� I answered with a small smile. She smiled, showing me her stained teeth,
well at least what�s left of them.

�You look familiar. Like an old friend of mine. But your eyes are different. You
have Chinese eyes.�

I frowned. �I�m not from around here.�

�Ah, yes, I know. But you remind me so much of Corazon. She used to sit on that
same branch.�

My eyes widened and the hairs on my arms stood up. Hey, it is not every day that
you get to meet someone who claims to be your deceased grandmother�s friend.

�Corazon�s my grandmother,� I said carefully. �She said she used to come here in
Bago with her parents.�

The woman�s face was full of wonder and her eyes started to water. �How is Cora,
dear?�

�Stephanie, my name�s Stephanie. My grandmother passed away weeks ago.�

Her tears flowed down her creased face. �I didn�t have the chance to say goodbye.�

I didn�t know what to say. I couldn�t say �Don�t worry. You�ll see each other
soon.� That would be very awful. So I decided to keep my mouth shut.

�I�m sorry, manang, I don�t know your name,� I finally uttered after a very long,
awkward silence.

The old lady wiped the tears with her wrinkled hands. �Agnes. Your grandmother used
to call me Ness.�

I nodded. �You knew each other well?�

She nodded. She used to come here whenever she and her parents visited the
Luzuriagas. They are close family friends.�

I finally understood why Erik was close to my grandmother.

�Erik�s father was still a little boy back then so Cora didn�t have anyone to talk
to whenever she was here. I was already working in the rice fields that time and we
happened to talk and then we became friends.� She looked at me, gentleness on her
face. �Your grandmother was the kindest person I knew. She offered to take me with
her to the city. She wanted me to study.�

�Did you?�

She shook her head. �I was not comfortable staying in the city. I liked it better
here so I had to decline. Cora thought I was wasting my time working here, but I
knew she was only thinking what she thought was best for me.�

I did not answer. I sort of agreed with my grandmother. How could anyone pass the
chance to be able to get away from this kind of life? If manang Agnes only said
yes, she might not be sweeping her lawn at the age. She would not be living in that
hut.

�And how is that man? Antonio.�

I sharply turned my head to look at manang Agnes. �You know him?�

She lightly laughed. �There was one summer when Cora couldn�t stop talking about
him. But it was also the last summer she was here. If only I knew, I would have
listened to her stories more attentively.�

�She did not end up with Antonio,� I answered her previous question.

�That�s sad. She was very in love with him.�

�I also happen to know that,� I smiled and turned my head to look at the wide rice
field. Erik was just a small figure now. The women who were giggling earlier were
still bent over their hips planting and laughing. I couldn�t believe I was sitting
under the same tree my grandmother had sat on.

�Are you thirsty? You must be. Let�s go inside and I�ll give you something fresh.�
Manang Agnes said, placing her broomstick against the trunk of the tree.

I hesitated for a moment but since I had nothing else to do, I stood up and
followed her inside her nipa hut. It was dark inside. The only light was through
the open window. I had to bend my head when I walked through the door. There was no
concrete floor as well. It was just plain and even ground. In the center of the
place was a four-step stair made of bamboo. There were two bedrooms and two
curtains with red flower patterns served as their doors.

�Please, forgive my place. It must not be what you are used to.�

I just smiled. Well, she was right. But I couldn�t say so.

She grabbed a wooden stool and offered it to me. �I�ll get you some coconut juice.
My grandson took some this morning.�

I got excited. Of course I liked coconut juice!

Manang Agnes gave me a big tin cup which contained my coconut juice. When I thought
she was not looking, I hastily wiped the rim of the cup with my dress and took a
few sips. It was refreshing after what I had been through today.

�Your grandmother used to love drinking this,� manang Agnes said as she watched me
with amusement.

�It�s has a great taste,� I said awkwardly.

�Do you know that she used to climb trees with me?�

�Really?� I only climbed stairs, never trees.

�And she was good at it. Like a monkey!�

I smiled. Well, that was something new.

�Hey, ready to go?� Erik barged in without a word. �Manang Agnes, did she bother
you that much?�

�Excuse me?� I cried.

�No, she�s a good girl,� manang Agnes answered, standing up. �Are you going? I have
more coconut juice. Take home some.�

�Don�t bother, manang,� Erik said with a smile and then he looked at me with
amusement.

And then I felt it. That tingling sensation. I stood up and whispered to manang
Agnes. �Can I use your toilet?�

�Of course. It is at the back. But you might want to be careful, dear. It is not as
comfortable as what you are used to.�

�Where are you going?� Erik asked me. �We have to go now.�

�Can�t a girl have some private moments alone?� I snapped before walking to the
back of the house. I found a door which was almost coming off its hinges and I
pushed it open. There was no doorknob. The sight inside almost horrified me.
Sitting on one corner was a toilet bowl. Beside it was a pail of water and a big
cup people referred to as kabo. I gulped and thought maybe I could hold it in for
an hour more but then I thought of the jumpy ride and changed my mind. When I
closed the door, I was completely covered with darkness. There was no bulb for
lighting. I had to carefully maneuver my way to the small toilet bowl.
�Stephanie, hurry up!� Erik called out.

�I�m trying! Shut up!� I said, scooping my dress as high as I could as I did my
thing. I squatted and waited for my bladder to empty. Once done, I opened the door
for more lighting. I took the kabo, filled it with the water from the pail and
poured it on the toilet bowl, the lower part of my body bent away in case of
splashes. I did it once again and hurriedly made my way back to where manang Agnes
and Erik were standing.

�You sure did take your time,� he said dryly as we stepped outside with manang
Agnes behind us.

�Thank you, manang. For the juice and the stories.�

�It�s my pleasure.�

�What stories?� Erik asked when we were out of earshot.

�Nothing that concerns you,� I snapped.

He just shrugged and started to walk on the cajon.

�Hey!�

�What?� he snapped, putting on his sunglasses.

�A little help here?�

�You were able to do it earlier. You don�t need my help.�

I grumpily walked followed close behind him until my body was almost an inch away
from his back. His height offered some shade.

�Hey, don�t stay too close,� he warned, sensing my nearness.

�Then walk faster,� I pushed him and that was when he lost his balance. For a few
seconds, he struggled, his body swaying from left to right and his arms wide open.
It was too late for me to jump away before his right hand smacked against my face
and I landed in the pool of mud.

�Ahhh!� I cried, my eyes closed. I could feel the sticky mud eating on my dress. A
splash at my right told me Erik didn�t make it either. I didn�t want to open my
eyes. I only screamed in frustration, not knowing what to do.

�Hey! Stop that!� Erik�s voice said above me.

�This is your fault! This is your fault!� I screamed out loud without opening my
eyes. I was crying for my dress, my hair, my skin, my precious golden sandals--
everything!

�Just shut up!� I felt him grab my right hand and then he pulled me up. Oh my God,
my dress tripled in weight with the mud.

I screamed some more and I felt real tears falling down my cheeks.

�Stop it! It won�t help! It is just mud!� Erik was saying over my cries.

�Mud?!� I opened my eyes. His face was sprinkled with mud and I was sure mine was
too. His white shirt was almost brown and his jeans were completely the color of
the dirt we just landed on. And then I looked down at my dress and I jumped. �Ahhh!
I�m covered in mud!�

�Stop it!� Erik shouted over my voice. �I said, stop it!� He said, bending down and
the next thing I knew, my feet left the muddy ground and I was in his arms.

�Put me down! Put me down!� I shouted some more. I swung my legs furiously.

�I�m trying to help here!� He shouted back.

�Put me down!�

�Fine!� And without warning, he let me go--all of me--and for the second time, I
landed back in the mud.

�I hate you!� I screamed, slapping his leg with my muddy hand. �I hate you! I hate
you! I hate you!� I said each phrase with a slap.

�Stop being a brat and get up! It�s just mud!�

�I hate you!� I said as I struggled on my feet. �Where are my sandals?�

�I was not the one wearing them. How would I know?� he asked impatiently.

I jumped at him, my arms finding their way around his shoulders. I didn�t want to
stay on that mud with my bare feet. His arms instinctively scooped my legs. �Get
them!�

�Get what?� His voice was now mixed with amusement.

My head fell back as I screamed. I felt really gross. �My sandals!�

�How can I when I am carrying you?�

�Don�t you dare drop me!�

He only laughed and I slapped his shoulder to stop him. �My sandals!�

�I told you not to wear those,� he said as he motioned his head to the nearest
worker. It was then that I realized most of them had stopped and witnessed the
whole thing. I hid my face against Erik�s chest. The worker nearest us looked for
my precious sandals and when he found them, handed them to Erik.

�Let�s go clean you up,� he said as he climbed back on the pathway with my weight
on his arms.

�I want to go home now, please,� I begged. I felt itchy all over and anything with
water would be heaven.

He just laughed. �Fine, we go home.�

Chapter 10

The moment we reached the house, I climbed out of the truck and ran inside. I
wanted to get rid of the mud off my body as fast as I could. Slamming my bedroom
door shut, I hastily removed my dress and walked to the bathroom. Removing the rest
of my clothes, I stepped into the shower and sighed. The water was cool and it
managed to remove some of the mud, but those that dried I had to do manually.

I cursed everything I went through. From the moment we left Bacolod, everything
just turned out wrong. I expected a smooth journey and some nice stopovers but not
this one. Erik better fix everything soon so we could go on our way.

It took me almost an hour inside the shower before I felt I was completely clean.
The cool smell of the Dove soap was now covering my body and my hair smelled of
lavender. I walked to my bed with a towel around me. I was rummaging my suitcase
for underwear when the door opened.

I turned around and there stood Erik, all clean and fresh. And I was almost naked.

My scream made him close the door and say, �Aren�t you tired of screaming?�

�What the hell are you doing here? Can�t you see I�m dressing?�

�I just came to tell you I have to go out.�

�I�ll go with.�

�I don�t want another dive into the mud. Stay here. Manong Danny will stay with
you.�

�What about--�

�No one�s kidnapping anyone, okay?�

�Fine. Like I would like to spend another second with you walking on a cajon.�

�Just say you�ll miss me,� he said with a wink and left.

�I�ll definitely miss your absence when you get back!� I shouted after him.

My stomach was grumbling when I came downstairs. Manong Danny was in the kitchen
cooking something.

�Hi, manong. What are you cooking?�

�Arroz Caldo, hija. I figured you�d be hungry.�

�I am,� I admitted.

�Give me five minutes.�

�I�ll be outside.�

The outside was still hot, but I could feel the day ending. I could see the workers
from afar walking toward the road, carrying their things. I wondered what they were
talking about. In most professions, people talked about their day--how their work
went. Nurses talk about doctors and patients. Teachers talk about students and
lessons. Businessmen talk about supplies and workers. I wondered what workers in
the rice fields would talk about. Maybe they were talking about how hot the sun
was. Or maybe, they were talking about me, the lady who screamed like she was being
attacked by a shark in a pile of mud.
I walked further outside and stepped on the lawn. I looked at the bushes where the
thief from last night had been. Really, he risked getting caught just for a goat?
And all the while I was standing there, a girl worth millions.

But as Erik said, nobody knew me here.

�It�s cooked, hija,� said manong Danny behind me.

I followed him back in the house and into the kitchen.

�This is Erik�s favorite meal in the afternoon. He likes one with a lot of
chicken.�

�It smells really nice,� I praised as he poured me a bowl. Arroz Caldo is rice
cooked in a lot of water so it turns into soup. How you cook it varies in different
places and I think I liked the one by manong Danny. He used native chicken and he
put in a lot of ginger.

I did not have a lot during breakfast what with the dried fish and all so I
finished my first bowl in five minutes and had another one. Manong Danny was
watching me with amusement.

�Does Erik come here a lot?�

�When his parents ask him to. He has his own house in Don Salvador. Most of the
time, he divides his time. He was here a few days ago. I thought he was going to
stay.�

That was probably when he went away.

�We were actually surprised. He arrived on foot. Said he rode the bus.�

Yeah, because while he was here, I was driving his truck looking for a map.

�He talked with his parents and said he had something to do with someone. They
actually fought over it.�

�Really? Why?�

Manong Danny�s face turned red. �I shouldn�t be telling you this. It is family
business.�

I nodded. �I understand.�

�All I can say is that his parents were disappointed he wouldn�t want to spend some
time with the girl they want him to marry.�

The food in my mouth almost went up my nose in surprise. �Marry?�

Manong Danny nodded. �But that boy keeps delaying the days. He thinks he�s still
young.�

�Maybe he�s not just ready yet.�

�Believe me, child. He has been ready since ma�am Gela.�

�Right, Gela�� I trailed off, trying to get as much information about Erik without
sounding like I didn�t know him.
�Yes, ma�am Gela. She broke his heart, I guess. After her, the girls just come and
go with the planting and harvest seasons.�

�I wonder what happened to her,� I tried once again. Just a little more
information, manong Danny, I thought.

�After she left him at the altar, she went abroad. I heard she married a
foreigner.�

�Ahh, yes. I think I heard that one. Well, lucky for Erik he got away from someone
like her. It would have been tragic if they married.�

The man nodded. �I agree. But I hope he would give his parents a chance. They
didn�t like ma�am Gela. Instinct of parents, you know. He should at least give love
another try.�

I shrugged. �Maybe he�s just had enough. Maybe he�s already happy.�

�You�re right. Since he started living here, he became different.�

�Yeah, right,� I nodded as if in agreement. �Well,� I slapped the table with my

hands and stood up. �Thank you for such a great meal, manong. I think I�ll go out
and walk out in the sun before it�s gone.�

There were a few people who walked by and they greeted me with smiles.

I pretended to not hear a word because I didn�t know how to respond. I was not even
sure if they were being friendly or making fun of me, a lady dressed in a white
bohemian skirt and a gray, loose shirt. I looked so out of place with my fancy
clothes and for the first time, I felt a tinge of embarrassment for not being able
to fit in a place where plain and dirty clothes reigned.

The sun started to set and I took the moment to look out the horizon. It was like
looking at a painting in process. Orange, pink, blue, violet, red and a lot of
other great colors were layered in one magnificent view. Most of the rice fields
were still freshly planted and the water reflected the colors of the sky. I found a
big rock that served as an indicator for the rough road that led to the house and I
sat on it.

Honestly, I felt like I was in a music video. I was the lady waiting for life to
start. I was the lady waiting for her love. I was a lady patiently waiting.

A man passed by. He was big and he looked at me in a strange way. I started to get
alarmed so I stood up and quickly made my way back to the house. He could have been
the man from last night, but I never found out. I was back in the house, back to
safety.

Manong Danny found me peeking through the curtains.

�What are you doing? Are you waiting for Erik?�

I shook my head. �I thought I saw the man from last night.�

He gave off a small laugh. �Don�t worry about last night, hija. That kind of thing
happens all the time.�

�But what if--�

�We always manage to settle things. Erik already settled it last night.�

I frowned. �How? Don�t tell me you managed to catch the thief.�

�We did, somehow.�

�What do you mean?�

�Erik had a hunch who stole the goat.�

�And?�

�He gave the man money.�

�Why?�

�To start over. He did it subtly. He didn�t want other workers to find out.�

�Why would you reward someone who stole something from you?�

�Dear, around here, people only steal when they have no other means.�

�And you forgive them? Aren�t there any other ways to help?�

Manong Danny smiled. �Yes and Erik did that as well. He offered the man a job.�

I didn�t want to argue further. If it were me, I would have already brought the
matter to the police. But then again, I was in a place far from the city proper.
Things ran differently. People try to settle things their own way before anything
else goes further.

�But it didn�t occur to me that Erik would be that lenient,� I said to manong
Danny.

�He�s not. People around here knows that they only have one chance with Erik. They
don�t dare try to find out if there�s a second chance.�

�Well, at least that�s assuring,� I said, looking out the window. The man was no
longer in sight and the sun was nearly hidden behind the horizon.

I spent the rest of the afternoon reading over my grandmother�s diary. It had
become a hobby and some of the entries I knew by heart. I didn�t have an exact goal
while reading the diary, but whenever I came across something that my grandmother
did or went to, my plan for the journey was becoming clearer.

Manong Danny was busy cooking in the kitchen and I was in the living room when Erik
arrived. I heard his truck outside first. Since it was the first exciting thing
that happened to me for the past four hours, I jumped to my feet and met him
outside.

�Look what we have here,� he said with a wide grin. �But you should have learned
your lesson, Steph. You should ditch those dresses and skirts.�

�They are all I have. I don�t have a lot of pants.�

�Pants won�t work around here either,� he said.

�You�re wearing yours,� I arched an eyebrow.

�Mine is cheap it can be thrown out anytime,� he countered.

I sighed. �I don�t have a lot of shorts.�

�Better leave a few things here and buy new ones on our way when we leave.�

�And when is that?� I was dying to leave. Reading my grandmother�s diary relived my
desire to reach my destinations.

�I still have things to do tomorrow and then I think we can leave.�

�I thought we will be here for a few more days as you�ve said.�

�Since I was alone for the rest of the day, I managed to do more things.�

�Are you saying I�ve been holding you up?�

�Do you think so?�

�Of course not! It is you who�s holding me up! I need to be back on the road.�

�Don�t worry, you will. Let�s go inside. I�m hungry.�

�You always are,� I muttered, falling into strides behind him.

�What�s that?� asked Erik, looking at the diary.

�Nothing,� I said, taking it from the table and placing it behind me.

�You keep a diary?� his voice was full of amusement.

�I don�t. It�s none of your business.�

�You don�t have to be ashamed to admit you put your thoughts into words. Did you
include me in that one?� he prodded.

�Shut up. This is not my diary. This is just a notebook for my itinerary which I
need to change because you ruined it,� I lied.

�Fine, we go back on the road tomorrow afternoon, right after lunch. Happy?�

I smiled. �Very.�

Our dinner was quite good. I only tried Dinuguan once when I was small but when I
tasted manong Danny�s, I changed my mind about hating it. It is a famous dish made
from the innards of a pig. I used to call it �black soup� because it really is
black--well, nearly. Pig�s blood is used to stew all ingredients together. Despite
the very dark-brown color, the dish prepared by manong Danny was amazing. It was
not sweet as I remembered it. In fact, it had a minimal sour taste which played
well with the senses. I had to admit. I loved it. I finally understood why yaya
Sana wanted me to taste her Dinuguan when she learned I hated it. I mentally noted
that I had to do just that before I leave Negros.

Erik left to do more things and I decided to stay behind to stuff my things back in
my suitcase. I wanted to prove to Erik that I could manage my suitcase including my
dresses and my shoes. I would have the final laugh at the end of this journey. And
he would be the man who would run out of clothes.

When lunch time came, I was starting to get anxious. My feet wouldn�t calm down and
I started pacing the porch. Erik was not yet around.

�He�ll be here when he said he�ll be here,� manong Danny had said for about ten
times now.

When I saw his truck coming back, I quickly walked inside and to the dining room
where lunch was steaming hot.

�Good, you�re back. Let�s eat and then go.�

He raised his eyebrows. �You�re really excited about this trip.�

I beamed. �I have finally plotted everything we are going to do. So please no more
side trips.�

�I�ll do my best.�

After almost an hour eating Pochero, which I found weird since the Pochero I knew
was red while the one served by Manong Danny was white, we brought down our luggage
(I had to do it on my own again) and loaded them inside the truck.

�Let�s go,� Erik uttered, putting on his sunglasses after he had a long talk with
manong Danny.

I waved at the man and climbed on the front seat.

�Where to?�

�Dumaguete.�

�That�s almost eight hours of driving. I�m beat so we might need to find a place to
stay.�

�That�s not a problem with me.�

�Okay,� he shrugged and placed the truck on gear. �First, we need to drop by a
gasoline station.�

To distract myself from the agonizing rough road, I turned to Erik and said, �I
have a stupid question.�

�What is that?�

�Why did you leave your truck after the funeral when you came home here?

�Sometimes, I like riding the bus. I like walking on foot from the bus stop to
here.�

�Why?�

�Because I don�t need to think about driving. I can enjoy what I don�t usually get
to enjoy when I�m preoccupied with driving.�

�You�ve been here for a long time. Aren�t you tired of the view?� She knew she was
tired of looking out her car window in Manila. Once you get to know every building,
you�ll eventually lose interest.

�You can�t compare the rural areas with the city. Here, you see a different view
every season. First, you see workers planting rice. Next, you see them grow. After
that, you see workers harvesting the rice. There are a lot of changes in this place
than you can find in a city, believe me.�

I pushed my lower lip out in a pout. I highly doubted his words. For someone who
lived in a farm all his life, Erik had never seen what I had seen. He was being
biased, I thought.

We finally reached the main road and I managed to get my phone to check for
messages. That kept me busy until we reached the gasoline station.

�I�ll just go and fill the tank. Come out,� he said.

�Why?� I asked absent-mindedly.

�Just do, please.�

I glared at him and grumpily jumped out of the truck.

�What?�

�Take these,� he said, handing me two large containers, �and fill them with water.
The faucet�s over there.�

�Why didn�t you do this earlier?�

�You were in a hurry, remember? Go,� he gently pushed the containers in my hands
and I had to struggle for a moment because I was holding my phone.

�You made sure you can find something for me to do,� I grumbled as I walked to the
faucet. I placed the containers down and started to fill the first one. I continued
texting messages to my managers. I didn�t know when the signal would disappear once
more.

My phone started ringing. It was my secretary.

�Yes?� I answered.

�Ma�am, the orders arrived but they failed to meet the required amount of sugar
and--�

�What do you mean? I told them exactly how many we need!�

I walked back to the truck because a tricycle parked beside me to check its air.

�Mr. Perez said he would deliver in tomorrow--�

�Hold on. Let me get back to you.�

I put my secretary on hold while I dialed Mr. Perez�s number. I entered the truck
for a quiet place. �Mr. Perez, hi, this is Stephanie Sy. Yes, I know. But since you
were late, I want a discount.�

By then, Erik got inside the truck and started the engine. I was on the phone for
almost half an hour while Erik was busy driving. From time to time, he would throw
me a look whenever I threatened someone on the phone.

I gave off a big sigh as I threw my phone back in my bag, finally done shouting at
everyone.

�You should really control your temper,� he noted.

�And you should start minding your own business,� I answered, looking out the
window. I didn�t realize we had already left the city and we were back on the road
with nothing but tall sugarcanes on both sides. I tried opening the window, hoping
for a fresh air, but the heat was almost unbearable. Maybe later, I said to myself.

Erik and I stopped by a mall in Kabankalan to buy food and then we were back on the
road. He didn�t want to waste more time especially when we still had to find a
place to stay.

We drove for another three hours until I realized we were both tired.

�I think it�s time we find a place to stay,� I told him.

�We just left Kabankalan. We�ll try to find an inn in the next town,� he answered.
By the look on his face, I knew he was really tired.

I was about to say something when Erik stopped the truck and it started to jump up
and down.

�What�s happening?� I asked in alarm.

�I�ll need to check,� he was frowning as he said so. I looked out the window. If we
would have any trouble, it would definitely be difficult for us to find help. The
stupid guy took a shortcut out of the main road. We would have to walk back and ask
for help.

Erik opened the front of the truck and smoke escaped from the inside.

I saw him walk to the rear and my heart started to pound. I knew what he was
planning to get and I knew they were not there because I left them in the gasoline
station. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes.

I heard a loud tapping at my side of the window. I pretended not to hear. More and
stronger tapping followed.

�Where�s the water?� Erik asked when I rolled down the window.

I cringed.

Chapter 11

�Iforgotitinthegasstation,� I said under my breath.

�What did you say?� He had that rare frown on his face.

�Iforgottobringit,� I tried once again.

�Are you having a stroke or something?�

�No,� I answered, looking at the other window.

�Where�s the water, Steph?� he asked again. �We need it.�

�I forgot,� I finally admitted.

�You forgot,� he repeated without any indication of any emotion. �Great. What do we
do now?�

�We find water,� I answered. �Surely there is a lot of it around here.�

He waved around him with his arms stretched outward. �We�re in the middle of a
narrow path.�

�A path you took for a shortcut. We were having a nice drive on a concrete road
where anyone could pass by and help us but you chose this path. Not entirely my
fault.�

�And we wouldn�t be having this conversation if you just did your task. It was a
simple one even a stupid person wouldn�t forget that if you fill a tank of water,
you have to take it back.�

�Are you saying what I think you�re saying? I�m sorry I forgot about the water,
okay? I was busy!�

�This is not my trip, Steph. It�s yours. At least try to act responsible as you are
running your business. You hired me to drive you, not to do everything for you.�
Okay, he was really angry. I knew it was not just the water that made him like
that. It was me.

�Fine! I�ll get us water!� I pushed the door open and climbed out.

�Hey, where are you going?�

I did not turn back. I walked the dirty road away from him.

�Stephanie!�

�I�m going to find you damn water!� I shouted back at him over my shoulder. I went
straight ahead, expecting him to follow. And when I realized he didn�t, I scoffed
in disbelief. He was never a gentleman, but to let me wander alone to find water
was just unbelievable. How could he let me walk away on my own?

I did not go back. I still had my pride so I went on, my ankles starting to get
uncomfortable because of the uneven ground. If I could just find a single house, my
problem would be solved.

And just as when I was gaining back my confidence, it started to drizzle. I found a
banana tree and went under one of its leaves. Should I go back?

�Water,� I cried. �Water!� I shouted as the rain started pouring heavily.

�Stephanie!� I heard Erik�s voice behind me, but my answer was muffled by the
thunder.

�Erik!� I cried once more, thanking the rain for bringing us water--and cursing it
for ruining my dress and my flats which I just washed yesterday.

�Let�s go!� Erik said when he found me hiding under the banana leaf. �What are you
waiting for? Let�s go!� He grabbed my hand and pulled. I pulled back, afraid for
another lightning. I didn�t want to be toasted alive.

�Lightning!� I tried to explain.

�There�s no lightning so come on!� His shout was
rain. I started to fill chills at my back. I was
to the leaf was no longer useful. Erik pulled at
guide me back to the truck. The hood was already
our side of the truck and climbed in.
barely audible with the heavy
already soaking wet and hanging on
my hand once more and I let him
open and he let it. We both ran to

�Where the hell did you go?�

�You know where! You found me there!� I said, my teeth chattering.

Erik reached over the dashboard and turned on the heater. It was actually one of
the very few moments that I was able to appreciate a vehicle with a heater. If it
was any other regular, hot day, I would find it impractical to have such feature.

He reached out to grab his bag at the backseat, opened it and took out a towel.

I was actually shocked that bag could contain anything bigger than a shirt.

�Here, dry yourself.� He offered, pushing the white towel at me.

�No, I have my own.�

�Don�t tell me you�re going to open that suitcase at this time. Take it,� he said,
letting the towel fall on my lap.

I hesitated. �Fine, if you insist.�

He just smiled, traces of any irritation from earlier now gone.

As I wiped my hair dry, I looked out the window. �Do you think it�s going to stop
soon?�

�I guess. It�s summer so rain does not come often. If it does, it comes heavy and
fast.�

I nodded, wishing the rain would fill up the water tank.

�What�s wrong with your truck?�

�Overheat I guess,� he said, shrugging his shoulders. I gave out a little sigh of
relief. Good. He did not bring up the water container issue.

�Do you think the truck can withstand our travel?� I asked doubtfully.

He turned his head to look at me and I had to look away from that wet look of his.
It was too distracting. �Yes. This only happened because it had never had a proper
rest since this morning. And it didn�t have anything to drink when it was parched,
thanks to someone who forgot her job.�

�Hey, I said I�m sorry, okay?�

He sneered. �That�s okay. It happens. I can forgive you this time as long as you
don�t do it again.�

�If you promise not to give me such task, it won�t definitely happen again.�
We were silent for a moment, listening to the heavy rain splattering against the
windows. It was almost hypnotizing--the sound and the hazy view outside.

�Look,� Erik said, grabbing my attention. �You may be used to people doing
everything for you back home, but here, you have to do your part. This was your
plan in the first place. You have to see it happen without expecting others to do
petty things for you.�

�Yeah,� I answered, not wanting to contradict. It was lucky for me to be forgiven.

I didn�t want another fight.

�This is not Manila. This is Negros and around here, we do things differently.�

�I already figured it out.�

�Just make sure you learn something from this,� he said, looking squarely at my
eyes.

�Yeah,� I said, blinking and looking away.

I didn�t know I fell asleep until Erik shook my shoulder.

�Hey, the rain has stopped.�

�Thank God,� I said groggily. I noticed the hood of the truck was back down. �Has
the truck cooled down?�

Erik nodded and started the engine. He gave a satisfied and proud grin before
saying, �Strap down. We�re back on the road.�

The excitement was back in my nerves. I suddenly wanted to grab my grandmother�s

diary and leaf through the pages. I wanted to read the things she did in Dumaguete
over again. I wanted to make sure that I would go to each and every place mentioned
there.

�What do you plan to do in Dumaguete?� Erik asked as if hearing my thoughts. He

maneuvered the truck forward and we passed by the banana tree I had been hiding in
a few hours ago.

�I don�t know. Just go everywhere I want to be.�

�So you already have a list of places to go.�

�Not really. I just have a name of an island.�

�What is it?�

�Apo?�

He nodded.

�You�ve been there?�

�Yes. I used to dive there.�

�You dive?�
�Once in a while. I�m not really into it. I just like the quiet world the ocean can
provide.�

�What is it like in Apo?�

�Have you been to Boracay?�

I nodded. I�ve been to the most famous island in the country a lot of times. It is
famous for its night life and white sand. I�ve enjoyed a lot of summers there.

�Boracay is nothing compared with Apo and some other islands in Negros.�

I was very doubtful of that.

�I bet you�ve never been to Guimaras.�

�Where is that?� It sounded familiar. It must be on my list as well.

�It's another island, nearer to Bacolod. You must go there.�

�I just might,� I said, keeping note in my head. I should check if that place was
in my list.

�When I first came to Apo, I brought my own sample of sands.�

�They�re white, I presume,� I said.

�Yes, you get white sand in Apo. But across that, in the shore of Dumaguete, you
get black sand.�

I snorted. I had never heard of such thing before.

�You�ll see what I mean when we get there. You should have told me you had Apo in
your itinerary. I could have brought my diving gear.�

�I don�t really intend to go diving.�

�Then what do you intend to do?�

�Just go around places.�

�Just go around places,� he repeated. �You don�t even have a plan. All you have is
a list of places, right?�

I didn�t want to admit, but he was right.

�Well, it is a good thing.�

�It is?�

He nodded. �The best plan for a travel is not having a plan. You just let your
instincts lead you to places.�

It sounded great. I had heard a lot of stories from friends about their travels but
none of them mentioned they didn�t have any itinerary. I for one never went on a
trip without a schedule to follow except this one. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe he
wasn�t. But what I felt about this adventure was as close to having no plans. I
didn�t want things to be by the book. I wanted them to be spontaneous. I would go
where the diary would lead me.

We reached the small city of Bais just before night fall.

�I think we have to find a place to stay,� Erik said.

�You�re tired?�

�I�m afraid so.�

It was unacceptable. I wanted to reach Dumaguete so I offered to drive.

�You don�t know the way.�

�You can�t drive and I don�t want to stop over here. Why don�t we just stop for
dinner and then continue on the road? I�ll do the driving and you just show me the
way.�

He stopped the truck at local restaurant. �Fine. Just make sure you follow the road
signs.�

�I promise,� I beamed, my feet aching to step on the gas. They had been stagnant
for long hours they wanted some action.

We ate one of the famous dishes in Negros, the inasal. It is chicken marinated in
soy sauce, garlic, vinegar and a lot of other ingredients kept secret by a lot of
people in Negros. I must admit the dish was fabulous, but it was not close to the
one I tasted back in Bacolod. After a short but satisfying meal, I climbed behind
the wheel and started driving. Erik sat back beside me. I knew he wanted to sleep,
but he also knew I didn�t know the way. At least he could relax while I did the
work.

Night caught up with us by the time we reached Dumaguete. I was amazed at how small
it was, how easy I was able to navigate. There were no jeepneys, just a lot of
motorcycles and tricycles. Women rode their scooter bikes like many of the men and
it seemed like a normal thing.

The first hotel we went to was a disappointment. They didn�t have any vacant rooms
to spare for two people. I was tempted to say yes to the penthouse but Erik stopped
me.

�It is impractical. Come on, we can find more hotels around here.�

We drove by Silliman University, one of the famous schools in Negros. It was just
across the boulevard near the pier. Rizal Boulevard was very much alike to the
Baywalk in Manila. There were lovers and families walking along the long sidewalk,
trees and path walks were almost golden because of the yellow streetlamps that ran
the length of the boulevard. I was also surprised to see a lot of American and
Mexican foreigners around the place. In fact, the place was pouring of them. They
were everywhere. The next hotel was a lucky one. It was just across the baywalk
area. They had two single rooms and I jumped for them.

�Wait,� Erik said, grabbing me by the arm. He turned me to whisper, �I think we

should get one room.�

�What? I don�t want to sleep with you!�

�I�m not talking about sleeping together. I�m talking about sharing the room. We�ll
get an extra mattress. We can save a lot that way.�
�We don�t need to save. I�ll take care of everything.�

�I don�t care. I don�t like seeing you throwing away cash. It is not very
practical. And it�s not like I will jump on you. I�m beat to do anything like
that.� He was smiling like he was picturing that scene.

�Fine, whatever.� I turned to the lady and requested for a room and an extra
mattress.

The room was not very grand. It was simple. It had a bath with hot and cold shower,
a decent bed and a folding bed and an extra mattress. A television set was across
the bed. There was no balcony, just a big window overlooking the boulevard and the
people across the street. It was actually a great view. The lights illuminated the
tiled sidewalk with a golden hue.

�Finally!� I cried with excitement when I saw that the hotel offered free wifi. I
immediately went online. Opening my Facebook page sent a great deal of nostalgia. I
saw the posts of my friends back in Manila and I realized I had missed a lot of
things. One friend went to a concert and the other went to Singapore for a shopping
spree. If I were there, I would be on her photos. I was scanning through another
friend�s photos taken in Boracay when Erik happened to pass by and saw what I was
looking at.

He scoffed and shook his head.

�What?� I asked, looking at him pointedly.

�I don�t get it why people post a lot of photos online.�

�To share the experience.�

He shrugged.

�What?�

�Nothing,� he said, lying down on his folding bed. He had his forearm over his eyes
and I took the chance to look at him lying there. It was really easy to just jump
right on top of him and do whatever women and men do inside a hotel room. I shook
the crazy thought out of my head. What the hell was I thinking? He never, not once,
indicated that he was attracted to me at all. No stolen glances, not simple brush
of the hand against mine--nothing. So why would I bother entertaining thoughts of
attraction?

�You know, if you have something to say, just say it.�

�Nothing, okay? I just think it�s a great waste of time,� he mumbled, never taking
his arm from his face.

�Don�t tell me you don�t have facebook.�

�I do,� he said.

�Really?� I was already typing his name on the search bar.

�But you won�t see a lot of things in there.�

�Why?� I frowned as I waited for the result. And there I saw it. We had ten friends
in common!
�I made it because my parents wanted me to.�

�You�re friends with the Aquinos?� I asked, referring to my father�s associates and
friends.

�I�m friends with their two sons,� he admitted. �You�re looking at my profile.�

�Yeah, and I�m sending a request. Go online and accept it.�

�Why?�

�Nothing. Just do it.�

�Later,� he said, turning to his side.

�Erik!�

�What?�

�Accept my request.�

�There�s a lot of time for that tomorrow. Let me sleep.�

�Fine,� I said, closing my phone. I went to my suitcase and grabbed a change of

clothes. I had to take a bath and sleep. Tomorrow was�well, might be a long day or
another series of misfortunes. I had to be ready.

�I can�t believe you�re letting me ride this thing!� I shouted at Erik over the
noise of the tricycle.

He was laughing. �We can�t very well take the truck! This is the best option!�

When we woke up the next day, we decided to go to Apo island. My grandmother went
there when she was young and wrote amazing stories about it. I looked it up earlier
and saw amazing pictures and a great resort to stay in. But when I told Erik about
going there, he said we had to leave the truck. We had to ride a speedboat to get
there and leaving the truck behind was not safe. So yes, I ended up in a tricycle
he rented. I begged to go with the van but it was impractical again. I was starting
to hate that word.

The only part of the tricycle which offered any shield from the rushing wind the
vehicle was running against was the in front, my hair was everywhere. Some tresses
kept on slapping against my face and my hands couldn�t do more to help because they
were hanging on for dear life. Erik�s laughter was audible despite the tricycle�s
motor sound and the wind. I took the risk of letting go from the rusting bar to
slap his arm.

My legs were shaking by the time we arrived in the said docking site of the
speedboats that would take us to Apo Island. I climbed out of the tricycle after
Erik, trying to tidy my dress. I was wearing my gold sandals again. The straps
started to crack after that incident with the cajon. My poor babies were never
meant to be in such places.

�Pay the man, Steph,� Erik said after I finally gained my balance.

�What?� My mind was too busy picturing my hair as I tried to comb it with my
fingers.

�Pay the man,� repeated Erik as he stood there, grinning at me, his hands on his
hips.

I grumbled and cursed him at the same time as I took some cash out of my small body
bag. I handed the money to the driver and we walked to the remaining steps to the
station where the man in-charged for the ticket was located.

�Two tickets to Apo, please,� Erik announced.

After two minutes, we were making our way to the speedboat and that was when I saw
it. The sand was really black. I frowned as I bent to my feet to grab a handful of
damp, black sand.

�I told you it�s black,� Erik said, looking at me with a smile.

�Yeah, whatever,� I said, standing up and squinting my eyes against my sunglasses.

The sun was bright today and the ocean was shimmering like it was having a great
time.

I didn�t have any complaint about the speedboat. I had ridden them when I went to
the different prestigious beaches around the Philippines. We had four companions,
all of them American men, carrying their own diving gear. The trip to the island
was quiet. I took the time to take photos of the clear water as it splashed against
gigantic rocks.

Erik talked with the driver of the speedboat after we landed. I was waiting for him
by the shore, holding my sandals in one hand.

�What was that about?�

�He asked if we want him to wait for us.�

�Why? Aren�t we going to stay here?�

�Do you want to stay here?�

�Yes, of course! I didn�t suffer that tricycle ride for just a glimpse of the
island!�

�Fine,� he shrugged. He went back to the driver to relay my decision.

�Come on,� I cried as I treaded through the shallow water. I wanted to escape the
stinging heat of the sun. I brought my own swimsuit but that was for later. �I want
to grab some snack.�

�Are you sure you want to stay the night?�

�Yes. How many times do I have to say that?�

He had that mysterious grin on his face.

�What?�

�Nothing. Come on.�

We climbed the steps up to the nearest restaurant. A lot of divers where already
seated around some of the tables. I found a good spot at the corner and ordered for
a mango shake the moment the waiter approached us. �Where can we get a room?� I
asked after Erik gave his order.

�Up there,� he answered, pointing to another set of steps.

�Why don�t we get a room while waiting for our shakes?� Erik suggested and I had to
agree. I didn�t want to end up staying the night outside. The island was swarming
with people and I didn�t know how many of them wanted to stay the night as well.

We climbed more set of stone steps until we reached the reception area. A woman in
a simple polo shirt greeted us.

�Can we get a room for two for tonight?� I asked.

�Yes, ma�am.�

�Standard,� Erik added.

I shook my head and nodded. �Yes, standard.�

�Just fill in these form,� the woman said, sliding a piece of paper across the
desk.

As I wrote down my name, Erik started to roam around to look at paintings on the
wall.

�It�s a good thing you decided to stay. But don�t worry, you won�t feel hot during
the night.�

�Why would we feel hot?� I asked, curious.

�A lot of people don�t want to stay here because of the absence of electricity
during the night in fear that it would be hot. But people who decided to stay here
say otherwise.�

�Wait, what? Absence of electricity?�

Chapter 12

The woman nodded. �Didn�t you know? We don�t have electricity here during the
night. Around 7 pm onwards.�

�What?!� I whirled around to find Erik with laughter in his eyes.

�What? I asked you many times if you wanted to stay, right?� he asked when I looked
at him furiously.

�You didn�t tell me I�d have to sleep with the lights off!�

�Don�t worry, okay? It�s comfortable during the night despite the lack of
electricity.�

�Yes,� the woman said with a nod. �A lot of couples such as yourselves enjoy the
night here.�

�We�re not a couple!� I cried in frustration.

�Sorry,� the lady uttered, looking at Erik then back at me. �I thought you were.�

�Well, you thought wrong. The keys?�

�Right,� she blushed and handed me a key. �I can show you to your room.�

�Thank you,� I snapped, stepping aside to let her pass.

Erik was frowning.

I sighed. �What?�

�You don�t have to talk to her that way,� he hissed beside me.

�Why? I didn�t do anything to her. Why does it always have to be my fault?�

�And why do you always have to make people feel like it is their fault?�

�Fine! It�s my fault! It is who I am! Why the hell do you care? Just deal with it!�

�You can�t always expect people to bend to your will. And you watch your tone.
You�re not in Manila.�

I rolled my eyes. It was only a moment later when we were walking behind the woman
that I felt guilty as hell. I didn�t mean to snap at her. I should probably say
sorry before she crept to our room later and kill me.

The lady led us to our room which was much better than our hotel room to be honest.
It had a great view of the ocean and the hills at the back. I let Erik walk inside
before I turned to her and said, �I�m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I hope you
can forget about it if you can�t forgive.�

She smiled. �That�s okay. I get the kind of attitude a lot in my line of work. I�m
just starting to get the hang of it.�

I gave her an apologetic smile. I hope it was enough for her not to kill me later.

Whatever Erik felt toward me earlier was gone fast as soon as we were alone in the
room.

�Looks like these rooms were made to be enjoyed,� he said.

�I intend to,� I uttered, taking everything out from my bag.

�In what way?� he asked. I did not recognize the teasing in his voice until I took
a look at his face.

�Not in the way you�re thinking,� I said. Last night, I was wondering if he was
ever attracted to me and I just received the first hint that he might. �I intend to
go to the beach and enjoy the water. Whatever you do is up to you.�

�I�ll join you.�

�You did not bring anything.�

He beamed at me with pride. �I can always find a way.�

I shrugged and went to the bathroom to change.

�Where did you get those?� I asked when he appeared wearing black board shorts and
nothing on top. I had seen him with almost nothing on and every time it had to
happen, it was the best look he had.

�Didn�t you see the souvenir shop earlier? They sell these things. That�s one
reason why you don�t have to bring a lot when you travel because you can always
find things to buy.�

�That�s really impractical,� I threw him the same word he�d been throwing at me.

�No, it�s not. This one I can take back home as a souvenir. Come on!� He took my
hand without warning and dragged me to the water. I screamed when I fell facedown.

�Watch it!� I screamed at him, slapping his arms with my wet hands. �It hurt!�

�Don�t be such a baby! Come on!� He pulled me further into the water and I had to
cling for dear life. I was never a good swimmer whenever I was in the ocean. I can
do fifty laps in a pool, but there is just something with ocean and the secrets it
holds that scares me. And the feel of the ocean floor against my bare feet was not
very good. I didn�t like it. I�d rather walk on tiles.

�Why do you think my grandmother never approached me?� I asked all of a sudden
while we were eating an early dinner before the sun was out. I had to drag him out
of the water earlier because he seemed to plan on spending the night enjoying
people�s attention--especially the ladies.

My question must have taken Erik by surprise because he gulped his food down his
throat and emptied his glass of lemonade. �She might have her reasons,� he said
after a while.

�You know that reason, don�t you?�

�Why don�t you read her diary?�

�What diary?� I feigned innocence.

�Come on, Steph. I know you have her diary in your possession. Didn�t you read it?�

�I�m not done reading it,� I said in admission. �I don�t think I can.�

He frowned. �Why?�

�I don�t want to spoil the fun. For now, I just want to go to the places she went
to.�

�So that�s why you�re doing this. You want to experience the things she did.�

I nodded. �And I want to know where her time capsule is.�

�Time capsule?�

�She had this fling with a man,� I said with a grin.

�She did?� he seemed surprised and I felt a little proud to know that I knew
something about my grandmother that he didn�t.
�Yeah. But it did not work out for them so they wrote each other a letter and
decided to read them after sixty years.�

�Wow, they were surely confident they�d live to see that happen,� he whistled.

�But she didn�t. And I want to get that letter for her. It�s almost sixty years
since they wrote that letter. I want to be there and get it.�

�Do you know where it is?�

I shook my head. �I just know it�s in Don Salvador. The guy owns a farm there and
he was the one who kept the letters in a time capsule.� I didn�t know why I was
telling Erik those things, but I wanted to have someone to share it with.

�So, what if this guy is also dead? How do you find it then?�

I never thought of that. Shit. He was right. �Well,� I thought for a while before I
continued, �then, I�ll just wish he is alive and kicking because he has a lot of
explaining to do.�

�I have a farm in Don Salvador,� he said.

�Manong Danny told me.�

�What else did you ask him about me?�

�What?�

�You said he told you I have a farm in Don Salvador. It means you two talked about
me.�

�It was just in passing,� I lied.

�Well, I�ll have to ask Manong Danny about that,� he winked and continued with his
meal. I was glad he did not press me into telling him Antonio�s name because I
didn�t want to. My grandmother kept him a secret for reasons and I didn�t want to
spill any more of her secrets than I already did today.

�Is it far from here?� I asked.

�We will have to go back to Bacolod,� he answered, drinking from his coconut shake.

I sighed. �This is what I feared. I didn�t want to go back and forth different
places.�

�Then you should have consulted with me before you jumped right on this journey of
yours.�

�Just so you know, you went M.I.A when I needed you.�

�You need me?�

My frown deepened. �Not in the way you are thinking.�

He arched an eyebrow. �Really?�

I looked at him pointedly. �Really.�

He sighed. �I need a beer.�

�You�re not drinking and then stay in the same room as me.�

Erik�s laugh was the loudest I heard since I met him. �Calm down, Steph. I�m not
planning to do whatever you are thinking.�

�I don�t want to sleep in one room with a drunk.�

�I won�t get drunk. Just a bottle to help me sleep.�

I stood up and looked at my phone to check the time. I still had a few more hours
before the electricity went out. �I need to go back to our room. Just one bottle,
Erik.�

�Yes, ma�am.� He gave me a salute as I walked off.

�What�s this?� I asked him an hour later.

He held up both hands. �Wine and glasses. Can�t you see?�

I squinted my eyes. �You said you�ll only drink one bottle.�

�I did. But I think we�ll need this,� he motioned with his hands and entered the
room.

�I�m not drinking.�

�You will. This is not a strong one. Come on,� said Erik as he popped the bottle.

�I don�t plan to drink with you.�

�You don�t trust yourself. You think you�ll do something to me if you get drunk."

I gaped. �What I will do to you when I get drunk is something you will never find
out because you know why?�

�Why?�

�Because I�ll kill you.�

He laughed and poured two glasses of wine. �Come on, just one glass.�

I looked around. There was no electricity and I couldn�t use my phone to call my
secretary and the managers because I had to save the power in case of any
emergency. The only light left was the one offered by the lighted lamp beside the
table. �Fine. Just one.�

�Why don�t we drink outside in the balcony?� He gave me my glass and walked out the
door.

I followed him after a few moments of hesitation. I didn�t feel good about drinking
tonight.

�They look like fireflies in the distance, don�t they?� he asked, looking ahead.

Following his gaze, I understood what he meant. The lights from across the island
gave a great view for us who were deprived of electricity. The gentle sound of the
ocean kissing the shore was relaxing. Add the wine and I was ready to sleep and
rest.

I stood beside Erik. His forearms were resting on the railing of the balcony. I
leaned my hip against it as I looked down at him. �You never told me about your
girlfriend. Manong Danny mentioned her to me.�

His frown was visible despite the darkness of the night. �She didn�t come up.� He
straightened and looked at me with a grin. �You�ve been asking around about me,
have you?�

�No,� I answered too fast than I intended. �It just came up. You know how talkative
Manong Danny can get.�

He shrugged. �Enough about me. You�ll be bored with my story.�

�Whatever you say,� I uttered, sipping from my glass.

He was still staring at me and I could feel it. His gaze held onto me and it felt
like it was emanating its own energy. My head slightly turned to look at him and my
eyes were locked in his gaze.

At first I thought he would come closer and kiss me, but he didn�t. I didn�t know
how long we looked at each other in the darkness, but I was so sure it would lead
to a kiss.

He was the one who blinked followed by clearing his throat. I turned my head to
look ahead and at the corner of my eye, I saw him step back and gulp down the rest
of his wine.

�I better go to sleep. We will have a long day tomorrow.�

I just nodded.

�You�re not coming?� he asked when he reached the door.

�I�ll just finish my wine. You go ahead,� I answered when I managed to find my
voice.

Erik did not close the door. He left it open maybe to watch out for me or to just
let the breeze in. It was only when there was complete silence inside did I let out
the breath I was holding in earlier.

Last night, I was wondering if he felt any kind of attraction to me and I just
confirmed a few seconds ago that there was a strong one and it was not just him.
Clearly and undeniably, he was very attractive, but it was only earlier did I feel
the urge to act on that attraction.

You�re here for a different reason, I reminded myself.

Yes, I was here for a different reason and I should focus all my energy into
fulfilling that. I was here because of my grandmother and no one else.

I finished my wine and slowly went inside the room, locking the door behind me.
Erik�s big form was shadowed by the bed on the floor and I walked on my toes to the
bed so as not to wake him up. The light from the lamp was dancing around the room
it was almost bad to put it out. But to be safe, I blew the fire off and closed my
eyes.
When I opened them the next morning, the sun was shining through the white cotton
curtains. I smiled, thinking that I didn�t have to go through another night without
electricity.

I moved only to realize that I was being held by a heavy object in my midriff. I
frowned and looked down. My eyes widened when I saw a man�s arm hugging my waist
and when I followed its trail, I saw Erik sleeping beside me, his face buried in
the pillow.

I pushed him as hard as I could and he jumped in a sitting position on the bed,
ready to pounce on whoever woke him up.

His head went in all direction until he spotted me behind him.

�What the hell, Steph! What did you do that for?�

�Why are you in bed? I thought you were sleeping on the floor!�

�I was!�

�Then explain how you got here!�

�It was really cold last night. I wanted to be comfortable. I asked you and you
said yes.�

�I didn�t!�

�Well, you did!�

I kicked him out of the bed. �Get out of the bed!�

�Okay! You�re crazy,� he muttered as he straightened his shirt. �Well, now that you
decided to wake me up, go get dressed.�

�Why?�

He grinned at me saying, �We�re going hiking.�

Chapter 13

I didn�t like the thought of myself hiking because for one, I was not prepared for
that. All I had were my precious golden sandals which looked more horrible as the
days passed by. But Erik said I could spend the day on my own doing nothing or go
with him where I could actually see a better view and my travel worthwhile.

Despite myself, I went with him. The lady from yesterday told me that I didn�t have
to worry about my footwear because the hike was not as rough. The trail was mostly
concrete and safe. When she mentioned �concrete� I was ready to go and finish the
hike. I wanted to show Erik that I was fit for such activity. I had been a swimmer
for five years and I frequented the gym most days of the week back in Manila. He
wouldn�t see me gasping for air, I thought with confidence.

The lack of exercise for weeks made my muscles ache. We were only halfway through
the hike when I felt them spasm but I ignored them, thinking my legs would get used
to them.
�I promise you, I�ve been out of the gym for just about a month,� I tried to
explain to Erik who was looking at me with a wide grin.

�You look like you�ve never seen a gym if you ask me,� he remarked and laughed,
turning around to continue walking.

�Wait, wait� Erik!�

�Save your breath for the next thirty minutes.�

�What?! Thirty minutes?!�

He nodded. �We still have a few meters to go and by your pace, we might get there
in time to see the sunset.�

�I need to rest, really. I feel dehydrated and I�m aching all over.�

�Here�s some water,� he had turned around and walked toward me as he said it,
holding out a bottle of water. Mine was already empty. �Don�t you dare drink it
all.�

I murmured thanks before I took three gulps. When I gave him back his bottle, he
winked and said, �Let�s go.�

�I need to rest!�

�Steph, we still have a long way to go.�

�Then go on your own. I�ll catch up.�

He thought about it for a moment. He shook his head. �No, you�re planning to go
back down and wait for me, aren�t you?�

Yes, that was exactly my plan. It was far easier to picture myself sitting inside
that restaurant overlooking the beach and sipping a green mango shake than walking
against the heat of the sun for nothing.

�I knew it,� he laughed. �Fine. If you can�t really hike to the finish line, we�ll
go back down.�

�Really?�

�Yeah,� he started walking, retracing our steps. I followed hesitantly. �You know
what?�

�What?�

�I was actually planning to take you to Mambukal.�

�Where�s that?�

�Back in Bacolod. It�s a mountain resort with seven waterfalls. You have to hike
all the way up to the seventh fall and it�s about five times longer than this hike.
And then, after that, we could go hike in Kanlaon volcano but that is a much longer
hike. I think I have to scratch that plan. Seeing you give up this easily, I�m sure
you will not survive even Mambukal.�

I cried over my lungs in frustration. I knew he was going to say something like
that. I whirled around and started climbing up the steps.
�Where are you going?� he laughingly asked.

�I�m going to finish this hike just so you won�t make an issue out of it!� I cried
over my shoulder, imagining with every step every way I could kill him without
getting caught. With the height of hill, I could easily dump him off a cliff and
into the ocean. But that was just me thinking. I would never dare do it because
there were a lot of reasons:

One, he was too strong for me. Two, he was my driver. Three, he was my guide. Four,
well, he was too hot to even consider killing.

It took almost all of my willpower not to go on with my plan to throw him off the
cliff. After almost another hour of peril for my legs and my precious sandals, we
arrived to our destination. It was just a plain, flat area on top overlooking the
blue-green ocean. There was a lighthouse that I took a picture of with my phone,
which by the way had only that job because the reception was as bad as my sandals.

�It�s amazing, isn�t it?� Erik asked, placing his hands on his hips to take a deep
breath.

�Yeah,� I answered, looking at his sweat-drenched shirt that was almost hugging his
body.

�To experience something great is to go through the difficult path,� he uttered

with a grin.

�You�re quoting who?�

�My self of course,� he winked at me, turned around to look for a rock to rest and
sighed when he found one next to me.

�I sense that you�ve been through the difficult path,� I noted, now staring at his
muscled arms.

�You can say that,� he stretched his legs before him as he opened his bottle of
water.

I wanted to ask him to tell me everything. He didn�t know that I knew about his
past with a girl named Gela who left him standing in the altar on their wedding
day. And he didn�t know that I knew his parents wanted him to marry Rock.

Yeah, manong Danny never mentioned Rock as the person Erik�s parents wanted him to
marry, but she was the first person that popped in my head. It was an instinct that
only women could have.

I didn�t realize I was looking at him until he met my gaze with that intoxicating
grin of his. I didn�t look away because I was held captive by his eyes. His grin
slowly faded to a gentle smile and before it turned to something serious--something
that I would have to think about later--I turned away. Slowly, I stood up and
walked near the edge of the cliff. Looking down, I thought of how easy it would be
to just jump. I was always like that. I would always think that way. The weirdest I
had so far was imagining what would happen if I grab on a woman�s hair in the mall
and start dragging her for no reason at all. Never had I shared such thoughts to
anyone.

Erik cleared his throat and said, �Do you want to go back now?�

I couldn�t find myself to speak. Still avoiding his gaze, I started walking to lead
the way. It is always easier to find your way back.

We had lunch the moment we reached the resort. We barely said a word to each other
and we both knew that we were thinking about something that happened up there. It
was just a mere moment of silence, staring into each other�s eyes. That was just
that. So how come it affected us in such a way that kept us from opening our mouths
which was never a case between us?

It was Erik who decided we should probably leave the island and go back to our
hotel.

�Where do you plan to go to next?�

I didn�t have an answer yet so I shrugged. �I don�t know.�

�Is Guimaras in your itinerary by any chance?�

�You�ve mentioned it before, right? I don�t know, it might be,� I answered, not
remembering my list of places. My mind was all over the place. I felt lost. I knew
I had a plan from the beginning, but I was starting to think that having no plan
was easier. I didn�t have to be disappointed if it didn�t go well.

�Then Guimaras it is,� Erik answered for me.

For the first time, I agreed with him. He might as well lead me.

The tricycle ride was a lot easier to handle the second time. I was able to get
used to the roaring sound of the motor and the wind. Erik�s warm body beside me
offered comfort from the cold and when we arrived in the city proper and in our
hotel, we were beat. I immediately fell on my bed and Erik went directly to his. We
did not wake up until it was midnight.

�I don�t think there�s anything for food at this hour,� he said.

My stomach was in protest so I walked to the window and looked down Rizal
Boulevard. �I see bars up ahead,� I informed. �They should have something edible.�

�You�re fine going to bars?� he asked with doubt.

I turned around with my eyebrow higher than the other. �There is one thing you
should know about me: I live in bars.�

The look on Erik�s face was not what I had expected when I emerged outside the
bathroom dressed for a night out.

�What now?� I asked drily. He had always complained about my clothing from the
start.

�Do you really have to wear that?� he asked, looking at me with a mixture of
admiration and distaste.

The dress, I admit, was short, but it was not baring my shoulders. It went down to
my elbows and the pumps which I wore during the first few days I spent in Bacolod
were the only footwear left that I could consider decent. �I know I look great.�

�Yes, but it doesn�t mean people will not commit any crime against you.�

�You�re there to protect me. I don�t usually go out like this without male
companions.�

�So you always go out with male companions.�

�Friends. Male friends who are always willing to fight for me. Let�s go, I�m
hungry.� I was in a foul mood all of a sudden. Why did he have to not like my
clothes? Why couldn�t he just say they looked nice on me?

As we walked out of the hotel and across the street to the boulevard, I regretted
my outfit. Vendors, bystanders and even those who were driving by in their
motorcycles looked at me like they had never seen a woman before. I was used to
that kind of attention back in Manila, but attracting the same kind in a strange
place where anything could happen to me was another story. I should have thought of
it before I dressed up. But I didn�t want to let Erik think he was right. So I held
my head up high and walked like I was just back home.

�I don�t think this is a very good idea,� Erik almost shouted at me as we entered
the bar. Foreigners of all kinds had their eyes on me. Erik stepped closer, placing
his arm around my waist. I knew what he was trying to do. He was the man protecting
his girl.

�They will get used to my presence sooner or later. Don�t mind them. Mind our
stomachs,� I shouted back at him over the noise. We found an empty table near the
bar and Erik motioned for the waiter. The man looked bewildered after we gave our
order of one large seafood pizza, one spaghetti Bolognese and two colas. No
alcoholic drinks. That might come later depending on our mood. But at that moment,
while waiting for our orders, Erik�s head were busy.

�What are you looking for?�

�I�m trying to check outside. It will be quieter there.�

I followed his gaze. At the side of the bar was a glass door and behind it were
tables with umbrellas. But at the look of it, we would have no chance of getting a
single seat until the next two hours.

�I�m cool staying here,� I said with ease, now getting comfortable with the
attention given by some of the men in the bar. They would often glance over their
bottles or glasses, looking at me.

I didn�t know how Erik was reacting for I couldn�t read his mind. He didn�t show it
on his face and I couldn�t see clearly because of the poor lighting in the room.
When our orders arrived, we immediately attacked our food. I devoured my first
slice of pizza in a matter of minutes. As I took another one, a man passing by
whistled.

Erik looked up and stared at him with killer eyes saying, �Problem, man?�

The guy just walked away with grin.

�If you keep doing that, you�ll end up in the street.�

�This is why I didn�t want you going out like that,� he gestured with his head.
�You already made your point about my outfit. Quit it. Why don�t we just enjoy the
night?�

When the waiter cleared the table, I was tempted to order a bottle of beer. It had
been a long time since I had one.

Erik glanced at me with raised eyebrows. �I thought you don�t take up drinking when
you�re staying in the same room with a guy.�

�I didn�t say there�s no exemption. And I am tired anyway. I want to go back in bed
ready for sleep and the beer will help.�

As I was having my second bottle, Erik was halfway through his first. I pointed out
his slow drinking. �While you don�t mind, I don�t like the stare those men give
you. I�d like to keep my strength for the worse.�

�Nothing�s going to happen. Relax, Erik.�

For another hour, we drank and talked about trivial matters but nothing personal.
We talked about farming, the city life in Manila, the heavy traffic, the simple
life in Negros and the different locations I was planning to go to.

When the last call for orders came, people started to get energetic. More and more
women danced on the floor, men shouted over their lungs and the music blasted to a
higher volume.

People who didn�t mingle a few hours ago were now dancing together in a group. Erik
and I were left in our table, looking around, when someone grabbed my hand and
pulled me up.

Shocked, I whirled my head and saw the same guy who had been keeping an eye on me
from another table. �What are you doing?�

�Let�s go dancing!� he shouted over the noise.

Erik was already on his feet, ready to back me up.

�No! I�m going! We�re going!� I waved my hand at Erik.

�Just one dance! Come on!� He pulled me and I almost fell over my head as I
struggled with my heels and the alcohol that seemed to have shot up my head due to
the sudden motion.

�Hey!� Erik called behind us.

�Erik!� I cried for help, pulling my hand from the man�s strong grasp. He was
positively drunk and didn�t know he was hurting me. �Hey! I don�t want to dance!� I
shouted again.

He just smiled at me and continued to drag me to the dance floor.

�Hey, man!� Erik shouted again, catching up with his hand on the guy�s shoulder.

I didn�t know why men hated being touched with force by their fellow. The man let
go of my hand and faced Erik, throwing Erik a step back by bumping against his
chest.
�What?� he shouted at Erik, slapping away his hand from his shoulder.

�The lady said she doesn�t want to dance.� Erik turned to me and took my hand.
�Let�s go!�

We barely made one step when Erik was suddenly pulled away from me and against the
other dancers who only moved and continued with their dancing, oblivious of what
was happening. �I asked her to dance, not you!� the man shouted.

�And I say I don�t care! She�s with me!�

�Hey, Erik! Let�s go! Stop it!� I tried to stop them, catching Erik�s hand.

He just looked at me and gently pulled free from my hold. �Let me handle this.�

�Let�s just go back to the hotel, please!� I said, stepping closer to him, my hand
on his shoulder. He was standing too close to the guy and I could almost taste the
danger enveloping them. �Erik, let�s go!�

But before I knew it, a punch was thrown and another one followed. I was thrown
backwards and I struggled to stay on my feet. I found it hard to see where Erik
was. Was he the one straddling the man on the floor or was it the other way around?
And before I could do anything, tables were turned, glasses were broken and people
started screaming.

�Erik!� I cried as loud as I could.

I didn�t realize when the music died and when the shouts reigned over the place.
All I knew was that Erik was standing before me, his face red. He grabbed my hand
and pulled me away from the crowd that had gathered around him and the man on the
floor.

�What--�

�Sir!� a voice called out behind us. Erik continued walking. I glanced over my
shoulder.

�Erik there�s a--�

�Let�s go, Steph,� he interrupted, his voice grave.

�Sir! Sir!�

�Erik, there�s a--�

�Sir!� the man in black finally managed to catch up and when he did, he blocked our
way.

�What?� Erik snapped.

�You can�t go.�

�And why not?� Erik asked angrily. He was holding my hand tightly.

�You have to go to the precinct with us.�

�What?!� Erik and I cried incredulously.

The man nodded. �You have things to settle with the police. They�re already
outside.�

Chapter 14

�I can�t believe you dragged me into this mess,� I uttered as I stood in the middle
of the small room. Behind me was the indication that I was--for the first time in
my life--a prisoner. The cell bars, which were once black but now scraped and
stained with rust and other things, allowed my brain to venture to the worst
possible things that could happen to me. I had a clean record. I never had trouble
getting my BIR clearance.

But what would happen now? I�d have a record and people would tag me as a criminal.

�Relax. Nothing�s going to happen to you. Just sit down and be quiet. We�ve
explained everything to the police.�

�How can you just sit there like you are in a freaking caf�?� I asked, looking down
at him. He was sitting and leaning against the dirty wall, his expression free of
fear.

Erik snorted and patted the empty space beside him. �Come and sit down. Relax,
Steph.�

�How can I just relax?! I�d have a record now! What would my father think? What
would my friends think?�

He frowned. �Don�t you think you are over-reacting? It was just a small squabble in
a bar which happens all the time.�

�Then why were we arrested?�

�Because we caused damages. Why? Did you, by any chance, kill someone earlier?�

�What the hell are you talking about?�

�I take that as a no. So no crime done except damaging private properties.�

�You beat up that guy�s face pretty bad.�

�He started it. You�re the prime witness.�

�But why is this taking so long?�

�Just relax. Let the police do their job. Sit down.�

�I�m not sitting down on that bench,� I answered, looking at the space beside him.
I didn�t know who and what type of people had sat down in that very same spot. �I
just want to get out of this prison cell.�

�This is just a holding cell,� he corrected.

�Still the same.�

I started pacing around the small room, waiting. The other guy Erik fought with
earlier was outside with the police right now, talking and making excuses for sure.
I rolled my eyes in frustration when Erik slid to the end of the bench and lay down
along its length, his arms over and under his head.

It took another five minutes for my legs to feel the strain my heels were causing.
I took two steps toward Erik and nudged his elbow with my knee. �Move,� I
whispered.

�Hmm�� he uttered, completely asleep.

�Move, I�m sitting down.�

He raised his shoulders.

�What are you doing?�

�Sit,� he muttered.

�You can�t put your head on my lap--�

�Fine,� he said and then dropped his head back on the bench.

�Fine!� I cried and he raised his head once more and placed it on my lap the moment
I sat down. �Don�t you dare turn your head,� I warned and I felt him shake with
laughter. �Stop it!� I slapped his arm, but he didn�t budge. �Erik! I�m going to
push you out of this--�

The sound of approaching footsteps caused us both to jump on our feet. Within
seconds, the police officer who took us in came into view.

�So?� I asked impatiently.

�You�re good to go,� he finally said and I jumped in the air like I had won the
lottery.

�Calm down,� said Erik, looking at me with amusement.

�I don�t want to calm down. I want to go back to the hotel!� I uttered in

excitement as the officer opened the cell. I was the first to get out and I finally
understood why people break away from prison. The outside world, good or bad, is a
lot better.

I saw Erik walk slowly when we passed by the beaten guy from the bar. Dragging him
away and out of the station was not easy, but I managed to do so without spilling
blood.

�Let�s just get back to the hotel. This has been a long day.�

He did not say a word until we entered the hotel lobby ten minutes later. �It was
because of your dress,� was what I heard coming out of his mouth.

�My what?�

�Your dress. I knew it was going to give us trouble.�

�Whatever,� was all I managed to say because I was really tired. I was the one with
the key card so I entered the room first and when I did, Erik followed.

�Were you hurt?�

�What?�
�I asked, were you hurt?�

I slowly turned around to face him with a frown. He had a gentle look on his face
and I realized his voice was even gentler.

�I don�t think so,� I slowly answered.

He reached out and took my head, turning it over and inspecting my arm. He did the
same with the other. He slowly turned me around, inspecting me with those dark,
round eyes of his. When I did a full circle in front of him, he tipped my chin with
his forefinger and turned my head side to side. It was when he turned my head to
face him that I realized what was happening. It seemed that he had been leading me
to a dance while I was sleeping and it was too late when I woke up. His eyes were
already holding mine prisoner. His face was coming really close, really slow. And I
was anticipating the moment. The air around us was causing weird vibrations in my
ears. But it must be the blood heavily rushing through my veins that was causing
them. And the more I felt Erik�s breath against my face, the vibrations spread like
wildfire. Scratch that. They became fire--a nice kind of fire. I thought it would
never happen. A part of me was waiting for something to happen--a sudden sound, a
knock on the door--something that would bring us back to our senses and to reality.
But none came--only Erik�s lips against mine.

The moment of impact was so powerful that I felt myself gasp inwardly. It was an
electric moment. If I would justify why we did it, I would have to say it was
because of the adventure we had at the bar and in the precinct. We might still be
using up the rest of the adrenaline rushing through our bodies. But at that moment,
I was not justifying anything. I was merely enjoying the stolen chance.

Erik was perhaps one of the best kisses I had. There was no denying how my knees
almost left me limp. The warmth of his breath against my face and the sudden turn
of the kiss� rhythm left me gasping for more. I didn�t feel the cold wall against
my back when he gently pushed me against it. It was just his lips, his breath and
the darkness.

But we knew we had to stop and when we did, we were both catching our breath. He
did not push away. Instead, he held my face in his palms and placed his forehead
against mine. I could barely see his face against the dark, but the light of the
rising sun was enough for me to see that his eyes were closed. When they finally
did open, his lashes brushed against mine and it felt like we were kissing again
when in fact our lips were tightly closed. His eyes were telling me something I
couldn�t decipher. Well, if he could understand what my eyes were telling him, I�d
jump off a cliff because I myself couldn�t even understand myself. I couldn�t even
understand how and why I got there--at that moment.

�I�m sorry,� he finally muttered in a very low, throaty voice. I wished he didn�t
say it. I wished he just shut that mouth of his and went to bed.

Slowly, I pushed myself free from him and the wall and found my way to the bed.

I never said a word.

�It was just a crazy thing we did after a crazy night. Forget it,� I almost shouted
over my coffee.

He had been trying to apologize for what we did a few hours ago and he had been
doing it since we woke up. We were having a nice breakfast in the restaurant of the
hotel. I didn�t like it when he said he was sorry after the kiss, but now I hated
how he kept saying the words. Why couldn�t he just forget about it and move on? It
was not like he stole my virginity or something.

�What?� I asked when he huffed in frustration.

His eyebrows knitted together, something one would never see him doing, and said,
�It�s just that you act like it was nothing.�

�Well, how should I be acting? You want me to feel awkward? Sorry, not happening. I
don�t see any point in feeling that way. So please, just forget about it. It was
not your fault. It just happened. It�s not like I would not do it with someone else
other than you.�

I must have said it wrong because he shot to his feet and left without a word. I
thought I saw his jaw clench before or after he stood up. I didn�t care. It was
better that way. We bantering was more comfortable than we having a conversation
after a torrid kissing.

The absence of talking inside his truck was very suffocating.

�Why are you angry?� I finally asked.

�I�m not.�

�Then why are you not talking to me?�

�I don�t have anything to say.�

I found that very unbelievable. By now, he should have said a thousand words. We
passed by two towns already on our way back from Dumaguete and he never even said a
word about them.

�I didn�t mean anything bad about what I said earlier. It was the truth.�

�Fine,� he answered.

�Fine.�

�Fine.�

�Fine.�

�Fine!�

�Fine!

�Fine!�

�Fine! Stop the truck!� I shouted.

�Why?�

�I�m getting out.�

�You�re talking nonsense.�

�I said, stop the truck!�

�How the hell are you going to go back home? Oh, let me guess. You�re going to get
a free ride from a complete stranger and give him a kiss.�

�Stop the truck, Erik!�

�Not happening.�

�Don�t think I won�t let you bring me back to Bacolod. I just want to stay at the
back. I can�t stay inside with you.�

�It�s hot back there.�

�Fine! Then I drive! You ride at the back.�

�Not happening.�

�Then stop the truck!�

�You�re crazy!�

�Yes! Crazy enough to kill you if you don�t stop this truck at once!�

I almost crushed my face against the dashboard if not for the seatbelt when the
truck suddenly stopped. For a few seconds, I was shocked that he actually did it. I
was suddenly in panic. He stopped the truck and I had no choice but to get out. I
stared at him, but he was looking directly at the road and that made me even
angrier. In a hurry to get out, I slipped under the seatbelt, opened the door and
slammed shut it with all my might. As I walked my way to the back of the truck, I
remembered I forgot my bag. I hesitated but continued walking. I couldn�t get back
in there. I struggled to climb on the wheel but I managed out of anger.

Erik was right. It was freaking hot. But I had my pride to keep so I sat down and
the moment my butt touched ground, the truck sped down the road. I shouted at the
top of my lungs in frustration.

I couldn�t believe he would think I�d give any stranger a kiss. And I couldn�t
believe he would actually let me stay out here under the blazing sun. When a woman
says she would do something really weird and unsafe, it just means you should stop
her no matter what words come out of her mouth.

Without anything to cover me, I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my face
around them.

Chapter 15

The weather was crazy. I wanted to shout at the heavens the moment it blasted
raindrops on me. I was getting wet and the wind was not helping my blood circulate
well to bring me warmth. What once was a moment of stinging heat was now cold as
ice.

The truck slowed down and stopped near a lamp post. It was already dark and I so
wanted to go back inside where there would be heat and a lot of dry clothes for me.
I knew what Erik was going to do when he opened his side of the door and walked to
the back of the truck. I did not dare raise my head and kept it buried under my
arms.
�Get inside, Steph.�

I kept my silence.

�Please, get inside.�

�No,� I managed to say through clenched teeth. If I as much as slacken my jaw, my

teeth would chatter endlessly. My shoulders shivered when a cold wind passed by.

�I can�t have you sick on the road. Please get inside. I�m tired, you�re tired.
Let�s get going.�

�I�m not getting inside,� I bit out.

�Fine. You�re going to make this harder for me?�

I slowly raised my head and I saw him, drenched from head to toe, walk to the rear
of the truck, opened the end and climbed up. Before I knew it, he was pulling me
up. His strong arms hoisted me over his shoulders.

My arms and my legs tried their best to get away from his strong hold but he did
not budge. He jumped down the truck, closed the end and carried me to the passenger
seat where he threw me in and slammed the door.

�I hate you!� I shouted at him the moment he climbed behind the wheel. Rainwater
dripped from the tip of his hair. Instead of throwing me the same intense look I
was giving him, he merely smiled and turned on the engine.

I welcomed the warmth offered by the heater but my teeth continued to chatter. He
reached at the back of the truck and took out the same towel he gave me the last
time I walked out of the truck and got lost in the rain. What was with me and
walking out and rain? I took the towel without a word of thanks and turned away to
face the window. Thank God he had the decency to force me back in the truck.

When he managed to dry himself enough, he drove the truck back on the road.

The sun had come out again and the view outside was fresh. It must be how it was
like after the great flood mentioned in the Bible because that was how it felt when
I was riding at the back earlier; it was like God was angry at me. It was like
waiting for the rain and the wind to take me with them and wash me somewhere far. I
had opened the window to let in the fresh smell of the grass and the soft heat
offered by the sun. This must be what Noah had felt.

My short amazement was cut short when Erik stopped the truck. �Why are we stopping?
�

�I think I need a rest. Just a few minutes,� said Erik, his voice almost a whisper.

I frowned at him as he leaned his seat all the way back and closed his eyes.

�Erik? Are you okay?�

�Yeah. Just tired. A few minutes.�

I hesitated for a moment but decided I needed to be sure. I reached out and felt
his forehead with the back of my hand and I flinched when his heat was registered
by my nerves. �Oh my God, you�re burning up! How the hell did it happen?�

He groaned in response, muttering something I couldn�t understand. He thought he

was in between unconsciousness and wakefulness. I panicked. I looked around but I
had no idea what I wanted to find. I should be the one burning up, right? I was the
one who sat at the back of the truck for hours under the heat of the sun and the
gush of wind and rain. I should be the one burning up!

�What do I do?� I asked him as I shook his shoulder. �Erik. Tell me what to do.�

Again, he groaned and moved to his side facing me. His arms were hugging his chest
and I started to notice the first sign of shiver run through him.

�Shit, shit, shit. Why didn�t you say anything earlier?� I opened my side of the
door and got out. I bent back inside and pulled him toward me to settle him in the
passenger seat. He must have had some strength left because he managed to cross the
distance more on his own. But he was surely not feeling great because he raised
both his legs and assumed a fetal position. Running to the driver�s side, I climbed
in and started the engine. �Hospital, hospital, hospital,� I uttered repeatedly as
I maneuvered the truck back on the road. �Where the hell is the hospital?!�

Since there was no reception, I couldn�t call anyone who could help me. I knew my
map would not be of great help because it was not very specific as to location of
hospitals. All I had was the houses along the street which, by the way, were
kilometers apart. I didn�t want to turn around and go back to Dumaguete City
because that would be a great waste of time.

When I spotted the next house, I stopped the truck and walked right to the front
door and knocked.

�We�re Catholics!� someone shouted behind the door.

I frowned and knocked again. �Please, I need your help. My friend is sick.�

�This is not a hospital.�

�But he�s really sick and I don�t think there�s a hospital nearby. Please, I need
directions.�

My shoulders started to drop when no words followed. I was just about to turn away
and leave when I heard faint footsteps coming near. I waited.

The door opened a crack and I saw a pair of dark eyes, wrinkled eyes staring up at
me. �What?�

�Please, I�m begging you. My friend is sick. He has a high fever.�

The pair of eyes stared at me for a while before the door finally opened to reveal
a small, old woman hunched on her back. �The nearest hospital is in Dumaguete.�

�How about a clinic?�

She shook her head. �Around here, we take care of ourselves.�

My eyes started to water.

�Oh please. Just bring your friend in.�

�Thank you!� I jumped and ran to the truck. �Erik, you have to help me, okay? I
need you to get out of the truck and walk a few steps. Can you do that?�

�Of course,� he stammered.

�Okay, in the count of three��

�You�re very kind, Manang. Thank you so much,� I said a while later. I was sitting
on the floor beside the bamboo couch in the small living room of Manang Rita. The
same room also happened to be her dining room. Three steps away from where I
sitting was her bedroom, separated by a curtain with red floral design. Her kitchen
was about five steps away from the front door.

�Just continue bathing him with water,� she said in reply.

I turned to Erik. He was sleeping on his back. I checked the small towel on his
forehead. It was already warm so I took it off. �You live here alone?� I asked as I
dipped the towel in the cold water.

�My daughter is out working in the field.�

�But it�s already late. Isn�t she coming home?�

�She will be staying with a friend. The weather was bad today so I assumed she will
not be home until tomorrow.�

I wanted to ask if her husband was still around but based on her answer, there was
none.

Manang Rita was not used to visitors or strangers, that I was certain. She barely
said a word since she let us come in. But I knew from the moment she opened that
door wide that she was not at all bad.

�Have you eaten?� she asked a few hours later. I was sitting cross-legged on the
floor, watching Erik�s smooth breathing.

I shook my head.

�You better eat something. One ill visitor is enough for me. Come here and help.�

There was no �please� but I did not take it the bad way. I assumed that was just
how she was. I stood up, feeling lucky to have even found a house to stay in.

�Is he your boyfriend?� Manang Rita asked as she handed me a piece of onion to peel
and cut.

I vigorously shook my head. �No, he�s not. He�s just as I told you earlier: a
friend.�

�Where are you from?�

�I�m from Manila. He�s from Bacolod.�

�Far,� she commented.

�Quite,� I answered with a smile. I concentrated on chopping the onions which was
really hard considering I had tears on my eyes from the very first cut.
�Let me get that,� Manang Rita said when she saw my hardship and I gave her the
knife. But the tears continued to flow. I sensed she noticed my tears were not
because of the onions anymore but she kept silent.

�I was so afraid earlier,� I whispered, sobbing. �I was afraid nobody would take us
in. He was shivering and burning up and I had never been in a situation like this.
Why did it have to happen to me?�

�You mean you�ve never met this kind of problem.� When I did not answer, she added,
�You�ve never had a hard life.�

�How can you say that?�

�For one, you don�t look like you�ve suffered in the past. You may have been hurt
but not really.� She finished the onion and went on the opening the can of sardines
that was going to be our dinner. �What you�ve been through is not close to what
others go through every day. Instead of crying over it, be grateful that you were
able to surpass it.�

A long silence followed her statement. I didn�t know what to do. I watched her make
fire with the use of small piece of paper, match and woods. She then placed a pan
with a broken handle on the three big stones surrounding the constant fire.

�He�s been through a lot though,� Manang Rita said after a while.

�What?�

She motioned her head to where Erik was lying.

�How did you know?� I asked.

�I can sense it. He�s been through a lot in the past and he�s trying to bury it.
He�s not sad anymore, but he�s not happy either no matter how he tries to make
people believe that he is.�

The hairs on my arms stood up. Did I stumble upon a house of a fortuneteller or
something? �He�ll be happy in the end though, right?� I asked, testing my theory.

Manang Rita looked over her shoulder at Erik. Slowly, she nodded. �He will be.� Her
eyes turned to me and for the first time, she was really looking at my eyes. �And
so will you. Have you found what you were looking for?�

Okay, it was confirmed. She was a freaking fortuneteller. �No,� I answered.

�It�s near,� she uttered without further explanation. �Dinner is ready,� she added
before I could ask a question.

We shared the meal in silence. As a matter of fact, it was the first time I ate
sardines with rice with much gusto. I was very hungry.

�Cook a pack of noodles for him,� Manang Rita said when we were done.

She helped me feed the fire again and then I was on my own, relying greatly on the
instructions at the back of the pack of noodles. When I was done, I went to Erik
and woke him up.

�You have to chew it,� I told him. �Come on, Erik. Don�t make this difficult. You
have to eat.�
�I can do it,� he managed weakly.

�Shut up and eat. You�ll have to pay me for this when you�re back on your feet.�

He laughed lightly and I smiled. Hearing him laugh was a relief. He was getting
better.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was already up. At first I panicked, not recognizing
where I was. And then I remembered everything and I sat upright in an instant. I
looked around and realized I was lying on the bamboo couch that had been occupied
by Erik.

�Erik?� I called, scrambling on my feet. �Erik! Manang Rita?�

I heard laughter from outside and I looked out the small window. �What the hell are
you doing out there?�

Erik looked over his shoulder at me with his radiant smile. If it was not for the
panic running through my system, I would have returned that smile. Instead of
greeting him a good morning, I glowered at him. �You�re not well enough to be on
your feet.�

�Stop nagging him and come join us for a coffee,� Manag Rita said. She was sitting
across Erik with a tin cup in her hands. The mention of coffee made me reconsider.
I slowly moved away from the window to join them.

We did not meet Manang Rita�s daughter, but we took with us some linapak, a
delicacy made up of mashed banana.

I did not let Erik drive this time. He had to recover for whatever he had
yesterday. Neither of us talked about it for we knew it would only end up with one
of us sitting at the back of the truck.

�She�s a fortuneteller, you know,� I broke the silence.

�Who?�

�Manang Rita.�

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me with amusement. �I didn�t take you for a
believer of those things.�

�You�re wrong. In fact, I greatly respect people with such gifts.�

�And what did Manang Rita tell you? Did she tell you about the one?�

I huffed. �No, she did not. In fact, she told me about you.�

He fell silent for a while. �What about me?�

I hesitated. �Well, she told me you have been through a lot and that you are not as
happy as you let on.�

This time, Erik was silent--a different kind of silence. He looked out the window
and I stole a glance at his direction.
�Is that true?�

�What?� I had no clue what he was thinking or what he was feeling.

�That you�re unhappy?�

He turned his head and looked at me. I turned my eyes back on the road. He sighed
and leaned against the window. This time he was smiling. �It doesn�t matter, does
it? Being unhappy doesn�t mean anything as long as you are trying to get out of
it.�

�You know, I would love to ask the reason why you are unhappy but I�d leave that
secret with you.�

�Thank you,� he smiled and leaned over to turn on the radio. �Let�s get some music
while we�re on the road.�

The song Even the Nights are Better by Air Supply was just starting. I was about to
scan the radio for another station when Erik stopped me. �Don�t you like this song?
�

I cringed. �No, not really.�

He laughed and said, �Let�s hear it though.� I knew he was not the type to like
this type of song, but he wanted me to suffer through it.

�I, I was so confused feeling like I�ve been used�� he started singing, taunting me
with his smile.

I looked at him pointedly and motioned to push the button. He caught my arm and
shielded the radio.

�Then you came and my loneliness left me,� he followed it with a laugh when I
groaned and closed my eyes for a moment. �Come on, sing with me,� he urged with a
poke.

�Hey, I�m driving,� I said, trying to sound serious. But there was something about
the way he was singing and laughing that twitched my lips.

�Here it goes,� he said and began singing once again, �I use to think I was tied to
a heartache; that was the heartbreak; but now that I�ve found you��

He looked at me expectantly right before the chorus came in and I finally gave in.
�Even the nights are better; now that we�re here together�� Erik sang louder and I
followed, shouting the song over my lungs as the wind blew in through the window,
carrying our voices as we sang, �Even the nights are better since I found
you�ohhhhh!�

Both of us broke into hysterical laughter and I had to slow down the road to keep
my focus. Yesterday may have been a bad day but it seemed that today started out
just right.

When the music finally finished leaving us exhausted, we both fell into comfortable
silence. Erik took a nap while I drove. As we passed the vast rice fields, I
remembered my Wawa and her diary. I started this journey wanting to know her
better, but it seemed that a lot of time has passed by. Apart from her longtime
friend from Bago City, I did not meet someone else who could have told me more
about her. Maybe if I looked for Antonio, I could learn more. Maybe it was time I
get to that time capsule.

Chapter 16

�Don Salvador? I thought we agreed we will go back to Bacolod to go to Mambukal? Or

was that Guimaras?�

I couldn�t even remember the things we agreed on. I frowned at Erik. �You planned
it. I didn�t say I�m going there. I�m not here for a vacation.�

He sighed. �Whatever you say.� He placed his elbow on the open window, the wind
blowing his dark hair. I stole a glance at his direction again. Just two nights ago
I was kissing him and� I shook my head to get rid of the picture of us pinned
against the wall and kissing�

No, no, no. Focus, Steph. Focus.

�I want to meet the man who broke my grandmother�s heart,� I said, breaking the
silence.

Erik looked at me, his tranquil expression unchanged. �I know.�

�No, you don�t.�

He caught my eyes and repeated, �I know.�

A long silence followed.

I satisfied myself with the silence but Erik was not done talking. �I think it is
the real reason why you are doing this trip. You�ve just been killing time all
these days. Is the reading of the letters coming soon?�

He was right. Maybe, at the back of my mind, I knew I was waiting for the day that
the letters would be read. �Yes. In two weeks.�

Erik nodded. �Then Don Salvador it is.�

Another long silence followed. I thought of the things I would do to convince

Antonio, if he would still be alive, to let me read my grandmother�s letters. And
then keep the ones he wrote.

�What would you say to him if you meet him?�

�I�m still trying to figure that out.�

�And after?�

I frowned. �After what?�

�After Don Salvador. What�s your plan?� His gaze was intense but I couldn�t read
his mind.

I shrugged, my attention back on the road. �I�ll go back home. I�ve been away for a
long time.�

Slowly, Erik nodded. �I thought you�d want to go to every place your grandmother
had been.�
�There are not a lot of places she had been to. But I think I�ll leave the others
for next time.�

At the corner of my eye, I saw him raise his eyebrows. �Next time?�

�A vacation, next year, I don�t know.�

He did not follow up with a question and kept silent.

�You�re going to miss me though.�

He scoffed. �You wish.�

I made a face at him but at the back of my mind, I wished he had said yes.

Erik was back behind the wheel. We had been driving for a few hours and my feet
were killing me. He said we still had a few more hours to go before we reached
Bacolod.

�We�ll have to stay in your grandmother�s house. We�ll go to Don Salvador just in
time to reach the time capsule.�

When I came to think of it, we wouldn�t have a lot of things to do for two weeks.
Maybe we should go to some of the places my grandmother went to just to kill the
time? But I was already exhausted.

No, I was lying. I was not exhausted at all. I was afraid something like that night
would happen again. I didn�t know if we would be able to stop by then--or if I
could go home with a light heart. Or live on without longing for something that
could have been. I didn�t want that kind of feeling. It was better if I could live
Negros without hesitations, I thought.

�We can spend a week in Don Salvador,� Erik said.

�Why?�

�I need to follow up on some things in the farm.� He threw me a glance. �If that�s
okay with you.�

I knew I just talked myself into avoiding another kissing incident with Erik but I
said, �Sure,� without hesitation. I should have slapped myself. Why couldn�t I just
say I would love to stay in Bacolod for two weeks?

�So here�s the plan: we go back to Bacolod, you do what you need to do and then
we�ll go to Don Salvador after a week.�

I sighed. �Whatever could I do in a week at Bacolod?�

�Follow up on business. Know the city by heart. You know, your grandmother loved
the city as much as she loved Dumaguete.�

�What�s there to know about Bacolod that--� I was not able to finish my sentence
because the truck started to jump--literally. �What the hell is happening?�

�I don�t know,� Erik said with a frown as he maneuvered the truck to the side of
the road.
�Erik, stop the truck!�

�I�m trying. Calm down.�

�How can I calm down?� I cried. �Why is it that every time you are behind the
wheel, something happens?�

�How should I know?�

I groaned when the truck finally stopped dead. I knew what would happen. Erik tried
to restart but all it did was groan and it did not really sound normal at all. �Not
again,� I uttered with frustration. �Please tell me you know how to fix this.�

�I�ll try,� he said, reaching for his bag. It still surprised me to know how much
that bag could accommodate when he brought out a flashlight. �Stay inside,� he
said, opening the door.

It was already dark and we were the only ones in the road. I watched as Erik opened
the hood and when I couldn�t see him any longer, I got out and approached him.

�Get back in the truck,� he ordered, bending down on the motor.

�What�s wrong with it?� I asked, ignoring the command.

�I think this one gave out,� he said, picking up a torn tube.

I groaned for the second time. �Please tell me you have a spare.�

He looked at me dryly. �The only spare I have is a tire.�

That moment I stomped my foot on the ground, placed my hand on my face and whirled
around in frustration. �What do we do now?�

He reached up to close the hood and then looked at me with a wicked smile. �We
spend the night here.�

�What?! Surely you can call someone.�

�We can try,� he said, taking out his phone. �No signal.�

I ran to the passenger side to grab mine and groaned. �Not a single bar.� In panic,
I went to the back of the truck, climbed up and reached out. �Why don�t you guys
have signal around here? Why?!�

To my astonishment, he only laughed.

�You�re taking this very lightly.�

�Hey, I can�t do anything about this tonight. We�ll have to wait for tomorrow.�

�What�s your plan?�

�I don�t know. We can hitch a ride and find the nearest repair shop. But that will
have to wait tomorrow.�

�Isn�t there an emergency hotline for that?�

�This is Negros, Steph. And we are in the middle of the road where modern things
are not very accessible.�

�I can�t sleep in that truck.�

�Then where are you going to sleep?�

�I�m not sleeping.�

�Fine, suit yourself.�

I jumped down the back of the truck and climbed back in the passenger side. �This
is your fault,� I uttered when he climbed beside me.

�Why do you always throw the blame on me?� he asked, feigning hurt. �I didn�t cut
that tube, did I?�

�It was running fine when I was driving.�

�And you think it committed suicide when I took my turn? Come on, you know things
like this happen.�

�But they are happening all at once. Why did I get so unlucky?�

He only laughed as he pulled the lever to adjust his seat all the way back. �I
don�t know about you but I am sleeping.� With that, he pushed the button to lock
the doors.

I stared at him in disbelief. He was really sleeping!

The flashlight was a big help for me to pass the time. I had my grandmother�s diary
on my lap as I read with my shoulder resting against the doorframe of the truck.
Erik�s light breathing was the only music I had as I read my grandmother�s words.

I had never dared read the last entries she wrote because I didn�t want to read
anything that might talk about my mother. I had never known how my grandmother felt
toward my parents. But I had read almost everything about Antonio and the hurt my
grandmother went through. I was left with the last remaining pages of the diary--of
what happened after Antonio.

It hurts to not be around my daughter. She and her husband went far away. He is too
proud to accept help and I respect him for that. If only we could show him that.
But I think this is for the best. I want them to feel like they are fighting for
something: their love. I want them to prove to us that they can be together despite
hardships and that they can be happy about it. I want them to fight the fight I
never got the chance to finish. I want them to win the love they have for each
other.

I was not sure what I should feel when I read the entry. My grandmother�s reasons
were not enough for me. If she had just made things easier for my mother and my
dad, things would have turned out differently. But why did she have to be so proud?

I saw my granddaughter today. Othella sent a photo of her and Stephanie. She is so
tiny and beautiful just like Othella. Ramon is very happy and very proud of our
son-in-law for what he had become. I think both of us are too proud to say it to
his face. But I hope he understands.

My father never understood, I wanted to tell her. But she was right. They had been
proud. I didn�t think I wanted to read on. Knowing how my grandmother adored me
when I was born was not enough for me. She should not have contented herself with a
photo. She should have been there when the world welcomed me. That�s what
grandparents would do.

The next entry proved me wrong though.

Ramon and I decided to finally go to Manila and see our granddaughter. I don�t know
how Carlo would react to our presence but Othella would surely be proud. She has
been inviting us to come over for six years now. We wanted to come six years ago
but Ramon had been having a bad time with his health. He didn�t want to tell
Othella, the reason why I never wrote to my daughter. I couldn�t think of any valid
reasons other than the truth to tell her why we couldn�t come.

I didn�t know a lot about my grandfather just that he died just a few years after
my mother. My father was away to another country when he found out about it and I
was too young back then to realize what was happening. All I remembered was yaya
Sana talking to my father on the phone, holding a letter. She had tears in her
eyes. It was only years later that I learned my father didn�t make it to the
funeral. But did my father know about my grandfather�s health when my mother was
still alive? I bet he didn�t. I bet no one ever did.

Othella left us and it rips my heart to learn that my daughter raced me first to
heaven. My two precious daughters went ahead of me. I still remember the day I
first held her in my arms. I remembered dreaming great things for her and
Christina.

There it was again. The name Christina. I realized I forgot about her since Manang
June mentioned her when gave me a tour of the house in Bacolod . Was she my
mother�s sister?

I didn�t go to the funeral. Ramon took the news very badly and we have been in the
hospital ever since. He told me to go see our daughter before she will be buried
but I couldn�t. I don�t want to remember her being carried down a hole in the
ground. I want to remember her being lifted up in the air, her giggling and happy
face looking down at me. I know Carlo will never understand why we never showed up
and I hope that someday he will learn to forgive us. I only wish I was not too
proud these past years. I wish I had seen more of my precious daughter.

Tears were streaming down my face and I tried my best not to sob loudly.

�What�s wrong?� Erik�s croaky voice asked in alarm when he realized I was crying.

�Nothing,� I said, closing the diary. �I never knew until today why my grandmother
never saw us. My grandfather�s health kept them from visiting us. And when mom
died, they were in the hospital mourning.�

Erik sat up straight, reached out and took my hand in his. The small gesture of
comfort was all it took for me to cry it all out. I didn�t know who I cried for.
All I knew was that I felt the hurt my grandparents felt when my mother died. The
hurt that still lingered in my heart over losing my mother mixed with the longing
my grandparents had for her. I cried for the missed opportunities they had. I cried
for misunderstanding them. I cried for my father for suffering over the years
thinking my grandparents had forgotten their daughter. And mostly I cried for
having thought of them as strangers who never really cared at all.

�Shhh�� Erik said, pulling me toward him for an embrace.

�I don�t even know who Christina is but I am still crying for her,� I sobbed a few
minutes later.

�She�s your mother�s sister. I thought you knew.�

I pushed away from him to look at his face. �You know her.�

�I know about her,� he corrected and then he frowned. �Didn�t your grandmother
write that in her diary?�

I shook my head. �There are a few pages missing. I don�t know if she ever wrote
about her. Tell me.�

He hesitated for a moment but he started speaking anyway. �She died when she and
your mother were just twelve years old.�

�Wait. They were twins?�

He nodded. �Your grandmother often talked about the two of them when they were
small and how her life had been taking care of twins. I only heard the story of
Christina�s passing once. I think it still hurt her to remember how she lost her.�

�My mother never told me she had a sister. I even thought she was the only child.�

Erik looked at me and massaged my hand in both of his in comfort. �Your mother is
another reason why Christina was never discussed in their home. She never left her
room for two weeks when her sister died and your grandmother never wanted that to
happen again. Christina was never mentioned in their home for years since then. She
told me once that she would often hear your mother talk with Christina in her sleep
for a year since her death. They were twins after all. They were very close.�

Neither of us said a word as we sat there, him holding my hand. �I can�t even
imagine her pain. Losing two daughters? And then her husband? And then that first
love��

Erik squeezed my hand. �We have to deal with the pain and I think your grandmother
did so tremendously. She was a survivor in many ways.�

�You speak as if you know a lot about pain,� I said before I could stop myself.

His face was serious. �I do. And I know how to get over it. Your grandmother was a
great mentor.�

I looked at him and smiled. I didn�t need to know about the pain he went through.
It was enough for me to know that he understood the pain I felt for my grandmother.

Chapter 17

My eyes opened against the rays of the sun. I blinked for a few times to adjust and
when I moved, I felt Erik�s soft breathing just one or two feet away. We had fallen
asleep facing each other in the front of the truck. I could feel the heavy bags
under my eyes, the one you�d get when you were crying before you slept. As I went
through the dashboard to look for water to gargle on, Erik stirred.

�Good morning,� he greeted. �I told you, sleeping inside the truck isn�t so bad.�

I rolled my eyes as I opened the bottle of water. �You better find a solution to
this problem fast, Erik. I�m not staying here for another night.�
He made a salute and sat up. He reached out to get the bottle of water from my hand
after my gargle and did the same thing.

When we were done making ourselves as fresh as we could, we got out of the truck
and waited for help.

�This is really embarrassing,� I whined as I sat on a small rock.

Erik had on his baseball cap. He looked at me and my wide-brimmed hat and smiled.
�You look like a lost tourist.�

�Yeah, yeah, whatever.�

�Nothing is embarrassing about this. This always happen and sugarcane truck drivers
are used to such things.�

I straightened in alarm. �Sugarcane truck drivers?�

He frowned. �They pass by this area often than any public or private
transportation.�

�You�re not telling me we are hitching a ride on a freaking sugarcane truck, are
you?�

His grin answered my question.

�No.�

�Then don�t ride. It would be better if you stay here and wait for me. But make
sure you lock all the doors and don�t answer anyone when they come by and knock on
the window.�

�You�re trying to scare me.�

He shrugged. �Those things happen as well. But don�t worry. They will mostly be
curious strangers passing by or��

For effect, he did not finish his sentence. I roared in frustration and bent my
head over my hands.

A few minutes later, a van passed by but did not even bother to stop when I jumped
up and waved in desperation.

�Private transport doesn�t always welcome strangers hitching a ride. Blame the
movies,� he said with amusement when I fell back on the rock.

It was almost an hour later when a big truck stopped in front of us. The driver was
old enough to be my grandfather and he smiled as Erik climbed up to talk to him.

�Let�s go,� Erik called down at me.

�What? Now?� I asked as I looked at him standing in the open doorway of the truck.
�Erik, I don�t think--�

�Steph, if you are going to wait for another ride, you�ll be wasting time. It is
lucky the driver is not driving with a company or else we�ll have to ride like
sardines.�

I took my time standing up.

�Hurry up. This driver doesn�t have a lot of time. Come one.�

I picked up my bag and slowly made my way to the truck. Erik was holding out left
hand while his right was gripping a handle for support. �Come one. That�s it. Good
girl.�

Glowering at him, I sat down. He chose to sit beside the driver and when I did not
make a move to close the door, he reached across me and closed it with a slam.

�Manong Panyo, meet Steph. Steph, Manong Panyo.�

�Hi, Manong,� I greeted with a forced smile. The man showed me his toothless smile
and started the truck. My hands went to hold on to Erik�s arm. I had never ridden
on a ten-wheeler before. Heck, I didn�t even know if it was a ten-wheeler truck.
All I know is that it was high and it was wobbling along the road. I saw the amount
of sugarcane it was carrying at the back it was not something to be taken so
lightly. I wanted to ask Manong Panyo if he had a license or certificate to prove
that he was capable of driving such truck and such load.

Erik sensed my unease and he said, �Don�t worry. Manong Panyo had been driving for
fifty years. That�s enough experience for me.�

And how did he know that, I wanted to ask. I wanted to cry. Why didn�t the van stop
earlier? Surely I didn�t look like some ordinary stranger with my looks, did I? It
could have stopped and we would have been on a comfortable ride to the nearest
town.

�How far are we?� I asked when I managed to calm myself down.

�Manong?� Erik asked the driver.

�An hour or so,� Manong Panyo answered.

�Oh my God,� I whispered through pursed lips.

�We can�t drive faster than this rate,� Manong Panyo explained.

I nodded. At least it was a consolation that he was thinking about safe driving.

�Do you have enough cash?� Erik asked a while later.

�I think so,� I answered, trying to remember if I did withdraw some back in

Bacolod.

�Good. We�ll need that. Cards will not be of great help.�

�How much do we need?�

�Prepare a thousand or two.�

I grimaced.

He looked at me dryly.

�What? Don�t look at me like that.�

�Do you have actual cash in hand?� he asked.

I cringed again. �Nowadays, when you say cash, it kind of goes together with card.�

He sighed and said in a calm voice, �Nowadays, when people say cash, it means cash.
Wherever did you learn that it goes together with card?�

I couldn�t reason with him. Well, it was just me. I was used to using card and
having one in hand was like having cash. Whatever.

Erik, I realized, knows a lot of things. For one, he managed to talk about the
sugar industry with Manong Panyo. But how could he not know that his truck was
about to give up and that we would end up stuck in the middle of the road? I used
to think he was born for the outdoors but how come he was not prepared for
emergencies?

I was being a brat, I know that now. But I couldn�t help it at that time. I didn�t
get a proper bath what with the tiny bathroom Manang Rita had. Our food supply was
not enough for both of us and we skipped supper the previous night. Of course I
would act like a hungry brat.

Later, the conversation between Erik and Manong Panyo turned to something I could
actually be involved with and that was about Manong Panyo�s family. He has three
sons, one of which was married and living with him. The second ran away with a girl
from their neighborhood and they had never heard from him for the past five months.
The third one, I was pretty sure, is Manong Panyo�s favorite.

�He�s smart, not like his brothers. He�s taking up nursing and is graduating next
year.�

�He�s in Bacolod?�

�Yes, he stays with an aunt. We can�t afford a boarding house for him. It�s a good
thing I will be delivering these sugarcanes to First Farmers. I can meet him before
I go back home.�

�Your wife didn�t come with you?� I asked.

Manong Panyo shook his head. �My wife died three years ago.�

�I�m sorry,� I managed to say.

�It just started as a small bruise and the next thing we know, she has cancer.� I
sensed that Manong Panyo had a lot of regrets. I saw it on his face. And then he
smiled, probably reminiscing. �She was a strong lady, you know. Her parents didn�t
want her to marry me. They had a farm of their own and they wanted her to marry
someone with the same status as her. But she still chose to run away with me.�

Erik glanced at my direction to see my reaction but I looked away. I never liked
hearing such stories. Ever since I started this trip, from the moment I read my
Wawa�s diary, I kept meeting people with sad stories of their own.

�We managed to make ends meet until our boys grew up.� Manong Panyo continued and
sighed. �I only wish my first two ended up making the right decisions. But I am not
losing hope. Sooner or later they will realize.�

I saw Erik nod. �Sooner or later they will, I tell you that, Manong. Sooner or
later.�
My curiosity was enlivened. There really were a lot of things I didn�t know about
Erik. He had a past and I knew that Gela was just the tip of the iceberg. Would I
ever touch the bottom before this trip was over? Or would I want to find out?

Manong Panyo waved us goodbye when he dropped us at the nearest town. The dust from
the truck shadowed us for a while before we managed to cross the street.

�Let�s go find an ATM,� I told Erik.

�Don�t bother. Let�s go.�

He took my hand and led me through the busy market. We rode a tricycle and I was
pretty proud of myself for feeling comfortable after the agonizing ride I had at
Dumaguete. There was only one shop that sold the thing we needed for the truck and
I was crossing my fingers as Erik talked with the man behind the counter. I
breathed a sigh of relief when he reappeared with something wrapped in newspaper.
�Let�s go get something to eat,� he announced. I happily followed.

The market was full that day. Students were playing and running around on their way
to school. Mothers and little children walked hand in hand buying goods. I
eventually got used to the sound of tricycles honking and people shouting over
their lungs to attract passersby.

When Erik stopped outside a small carenderia, a small store that sells different
home-cooked meals, I grabbed his arms and said, �Can�t we just eat fast food?�

He stared at me like I spoke a different language. �Do you see McDonald�s around
here? Jollibee?�

I slowly shook my head.

�Good. Then this is the best eatery we can get. And it�s better than fast food.
Let�s go,� he grabbed my hand again and pulled me behind him. I reluctantly
followed his lead, looking around the state of the carenderia. It was not dirty,
but it was not what I was used to. Plastic stools were scattered everywhere and if
you wanted a seat, you�d have to find one and bring it over to the next empty table
covered with plastic. When we found a spot just near the entrance, I sat up and
waited.

�What are you doing?� Erik asked, his eyebrows raised high.

�Aren�t we eating?� I asked innocently.

�We have to pick our food. Honestly, Steph, you have to act like you know something
around here. Otherwise people will notice and they may take advantage of your
innocence. Come on,� he motioned with his head as he took off his cap. �Just think
of this like the fast food. You choose a food, pick a drink, you pay and then you
carry your tray to the table. And by the way, you�ll be paying. My money�s spent on
this,� he added, indicating the tube wrapped in newspaper.

�Okay, fine.� I didn�t want to argue. I didn�t have the energy.

�What do you want?� he asked when we reached the counter where a glass frame was
standing and in it was the different meals offered that day.

�Whatever you are having,� I answered.

He looked at me with pity. �Fine. We�ll get linaga.�

�Okay,� I answered and suddenly felt my stomach groaning.

�Drink?�

�Water,� I answered.

�Okay. Go back to our table before someone takes it,� he ordered. �And take this,�
he handed me our latest purchase and I obligingly went to save our seats.

If it was an ordinary day, I would have kicked him for ordering me around but at
that time, I was a hungry kitten who would do anything just to get my bowl of milk.

The food turned out great actually. I never realized until then that it was true
what they say: Negros food is great. Wherever we went, the food never disappointed
me. Maybe I should take on what yaya Sana said. I should taste Bacolod�s as well.

Once full, we went to the nearest grocery store and bought anything we could eat on
the road.

�Why are you buying those?� I asked Erik when I saw him with a bunch of cup
noodles. �How do you intend to cook them?�

�These are just for emergency. You don�t know where we will end up next time.�

�Please don�t say that.�

He grinned. �Don�t worry. This is just emergency food. Are we set?�

I nodded. We better get to Bacolod soon.

We�ll have to ride the bus back to the truck. There�s one coming soon in the
terminal.

The bus arrived but it was already full. We both had to stand up throughout the
ride.

When a passenger climbed down, Erik raced the other passengers to the empty seat.
And when he won, he grinned at me triumphantly. I raised my eyebrow at him.

�Steph! Come here!� he called out. In order not to attract further attraction, I
fought my way along the aisle of the bus.

�Sit here,� he ordered as he stood up.

�Why, you are such a gentleman,� I uttered as I gratefully took a seat.

�We�ll change spot after fifteen minutes,� he said with a laugh and my smiled
faded.

He was true to his word. He woke me up fifteen minutes later to sit down.

�You can sit on my lap. I wouldn�t mind,� he offered when he saw the look on my
face.
�I can manage, thank you. You better take a rest. That seat is mine in fifteen
minutes.�

The passenger sitting beside him stood up and boarded down the bus a few minutes
later and I grabbed the seat before anyone could.

�Are you sure the truck will still be there?� I asked all of a sudden.

�No one dares to steal vehicles around here. For one, they will eventually get
caught. Second, the only ones they can get are the ones who won�t start which is a
problem.�

Sure enough, the truck was still there. And so were our things. Intact, untouched
and undisturbed.

Erik proceeded to fixing the problem under the hood.

�Is it going to work?� I asked when he finally emerged an hour later.

�I don�t know. Try starting it for me.�

I did as he asked and the truck roared to life.

I jumped out of the truck with glee. And then I jumped on him with excitement. He
was covered in sweat and grease but I didn�t care. I was relieved we could finally
go back to Bacolod. And then it happened again. Just like last time, it was
simultaneous. His lips were on mine and I was kissing him back.

Chapter 18

It did not last long. I guess because both of us realized what was happening before
it deepened. My face was flushed, but I doubt if it was from the heat of the sun. I
jumped away from Erik�s embrace and turned around to walk back to my side of the
truck. My hands were not cooperating as I secured my seatbelt.

I watched Erik close the hood of the truck and hid behind the brim of my hat when
his eyes almost caught mine. I cleared my throat as I tried to forget the feel of
his lips against mine and how his arms closed around me. It was like the most
natural thing and�

No, Steph! Stop it! Sleep on it! Sleep on it!

My eyes were wide awake but they instantly closed the moment Erik climbed behind
the wheel. He cleared his throat and started the engine. I was very much grateful
he did not point out my pretense.

But I really fell asleep and when I opened my eyes, I heard Erik talking. Before I
could point out that it was weird he was talking to himself, another voice chimed
in and this time, it belonged to a woman. Startled, I turned around and there she
was, sitting at the backseat. She had dark skin, her hair tightly tucked behind her
head. She looked like a typical Filipina.

�This is Clara,� Erik introduced in a light tone. �Clara, meet Steph.�

�How--� I started to ask.

�She was waiting for a ride when we passed by. She�s on her way back to
Kabankalan.�

I was frowning and looking at Erik. Why would he pick someone off the street?
Didn�t he tell me picking up strangers along the road is dangerous?

�All buses were full.�

And you believe her? I wanted to ask.

�I�m sorry if I am being a burden. I will pay.�

�You don�t have to.�

�Erik, you should have woken me--�

Erik threw me a look to keep my mouth shut.

�So, where were we?� he asked Clara, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

Clara hesitated, looking at me for a moment, before she spoke, �I left him.�

Erik�s brows dove disappeared behind his sunglasses as he frowned. �Why?�

�He doesn�t understand,� the girl choked before she broke into a fitful cry.

�What�s happening?� I mouthed at Erik, hiding behind the headrest of my seat. He

leaned toward the door to do the same and mouthed back, �Do something!�

�I don�t even know what to say! What are you talking about?�

�Just say something!�

Clara was crying harder now. I grimaced as I cleared my throat. �Tell us more,
Clara,�

Erik looked at me with disbelief.

�What?� I asked with my mouth.From what I learned in college, this was Therapeutic
Communication 101.

�He doesn�t understand why I am doing this,� Clara managed to say in between sobs.

�She�s going abroad to work as a domestic helper. Her fianc� doesn�t approve,� Erik
explained.

�So you left him?� I asked Clara.

She nodded, wiping her tears with the tissue Erik handed her. �I have no choice.�

�How do you feel about it?� I asked the next common question in therapeutic
communication. Erik threw me a look that said I didn�t know what I was saying. Hey!
I was not used to giving comfort to women suffering from heartaches! I had always
managed to get by on my own after my past relationships failed.

�Clara, you have to do what you think is right. If you believe that providing for
your family by means of working abroad is more important, then do it. You have to
set your priorities. You�re young, you�re beautiful and you have a lot of years
ahead of you. There will always be more chances in the years to come. You may think
you will not find another person later, but you�re wrong. People who sacrifice for
the bigger things never die unloved.�

I could mentally hear applause as Erik finished his speech. The more I hear such
talks from him, the more I started to see the real man behind his happy-go-lucky
fa�ade.

�But it hurts,� Clara said with a sob. �It hurts a lot.�

�You managed to leave him,� I said a while later when Erik was lost for words. �You
can manage the hurt as well.�

�Cry as much as you like. We have a lot of time,� Erik finally said.

So there we sat, listening to Clara�s cry which constantly changed from a whine to
soft sobs to wailing and back again. It was totally awkward for me, but the longer
the sound continued, I started to feel for her. Somehow I understood what she felt
like. My grandmother had felt the same process of letting go and crying over it.
For a moment, I thought I felt the same pain. I became sympathetic rather than
empathetic. My eyes began to water as Clara�s tears died down.

Erik was silent the whole time. I was not sure what he was thinking or if he was
even at the moment.

Clara got off at Kabankalan, in a mall where we parked. She surprised me when she
gave me a grateful hug. Erik was as surprised when he received the same embrace. We
gave her our best wishes and then she was off to ride a tricyle home.

�What now?� I asked him. �Planning on picking a few more hitchhikers?�

He ignored me and walked to the entrance of the mall.

�Where are you going?�

He turned around and walked back to where I was standing and took my hand. The same
electrifying feeling ran through my limb for a split second before I recovered.
�You ask a lot of questions,� he grinned and pulled me up the stairs to the
entrance of the mall.

We ended up buying more food and drinks in the supermarket. I grabbed three 1.5
liters of Coke, something I had been craving for since we had our lunch. Kabankalan
was the first city we stopped by since Dumaguete and it was pretty decent. It
amazed me how there were no jeepneys. If people wanted to go somewhere, they had to
ride the tricyle. Tricycles were the closest thing to a taxi cab around there.

The food court was small but they offered enough food to fill us up. I was busy
thinking about Clara and her fianc� when Erik reached out his hand and touched one
corner of my mouth with his thumb. I leaned away with an accusing look.

�You have a stain there,� he explained. My fingers consciously wiped the area as
Erik chuckled.

�What?�

�Nothing. What were you thinking?�

I shrugged. �I was wondering why Clara�s fianc� don�t understand.�

Erik�s dark gaze was on me as he said, �He�s not ready to let her go.�

�And you�re certain about that.�

�Steph, there are people who are not as welcoming to big changes as some are. They
would rather live life the same way. I guess Clara�s fianc� is afraid of this
change--of her choice to go away.�

�She�s going away for a better life. He should at least be supportive.�

�He doesn�t realize that yet. He might later on. Who knows?�

I thought Clara was the last act of kindness Erik had in mind, but I was wrong. We
were just leaving Kabankalan when two boys of around the ages eight and ten waved
their arms up in the air for us to stop. For the love of all that�s holy, Erik did
stop the truck and rolled down my side of the window.

�Can we get a ride?� one of the boys asked. His face was contorted against the heat
of the sun.

�Please, sir. We need to go to Himamaylan. Our mother is waiting for us,� added the
other boy. They were in their school uniforms but instead of black shoes, they had
on a pair of thin slippers. Both of them were carrying bags. Obviously, they just
left school.

I was about to say no, but the first boy spoke up once again. �We need to go to our
mother. Please, sir. We don�t have money for transportation.�

Erik nodded and unlocked the doors of the truck much to my surprise and horror. We
didn�t know these boys. They could be part of a syndicate scam. I was already in
panic, picturing myself bound and gagged, speaking to my dad on the phone to send
all the money we had.

�Get in. Ride at the backseat. It�s hot at the back,� he said and the boys ran to
open the door behind me.

�What the hell are you doing?� I rushed, my eyes shooting daggers at him.

�Relax. They�re just kids,� he said with a grin. �You boys settled back there?�

Both nodded and said yes in unison.

�Will you tell us your names?� Erik asked. I had to cover my face with my hands in
frustration. Now he was doing it again. Making small talks. He should step on the
gas and drive as fast as he could to Himamaylan.

�I am Kenneth,� the older of the boys answered. �This is Jun, my younger brother.�

It was a good thing the kids didn�t have a lot to say. It was only when a thought
crossed my mind that I asked them why they had to travel to Himamaylan on their own
in their school uniforms.

I saw the hesitation and doubt on their faces as they stared at each other.

�We ran away.�

�What?!� Erik and I shouted in unison.

�No! Please!� Kenneth cried out when Erik started to slow down to stop the truck.
�We can�t go back!�

�You said you are going to meet your mother,� Erik said, his voice sounding
betrayed. He had stopped the truck at the side of the road and now he was facing
both boys. I wanted to tell him he should have listened to me. Now what do we do
with the boys?

�Yes, we are!� both of them answered.

�And you are running away?� I asked.

�From our father,� Jun answered.

�He beats us.�

�He�s always drunk.�

�He drove our mother out of the house yesterday.�

�He said we can�t come with her.�

Jun was now crying. �I want to see my mama,� he said.

�Oh God,� I groaned. No more tears please. I�ve had enough from Clara.

Erik looked at me. �What do you think?�

�How should I know? You were the one who stopped the truck in the first place.�

�Please, sir�ma�am. We just need to see our mother,� Kenneth pleaded.

I looked at Erik. Honestly, I would say okay to whatever he would come up with at
that moment.

�We will only take you to Himamaylan if you let us meet your mother. If we don�t
see any mama later, we drive back here and we take you back home.�

�Yes!� both boys said in agreement.

As it turned out, both Kenneth and Jun actually had proof to support their stories.
Kenneth showed us Jun�s bruises--the ones at his back, arms and legs. I had to stop
myself from reacting in exaggeration when I saw the bruises, all of them in
different stages of healing.

I could see Erik�s jaw clench as we listened to their story. When Kenneth shared
his father�s abuse on his younger brother, I felt the truck screech for a moment
and I had to remind Erik to be careful.

Jun had stopped crying and his head was now lying on his brother�s lap as he slept.
Kenneth brushed the hair off his brother�s forehead and when he saw that I was
staring, he said, �We didn�t get enough sleep since mama left. We were afraid of
what he would do to us.�

Ten minutes later, Kenneth also fell asleep. I stole a glance at the two of them
sitting there, the expression on their faces solemn. Who would ever think that
these children went through a lot of abuse?
That was it. The tears came pouring in and I had to turn my head back on the road.
When they wouldn�t stop and when I felt that my throat was about to close on me, I
covered face with my hands and started sobbing.

�Steph,� Erik nudged me. �Hey, calm down. You�ll wake them up.�

�I can�t�� I couldn�t even finish my sentence. The tears continued to flow even
harder and I whimpered. �How can someone do this to them?� I tried to wipe away my
tears. �Oh God, this is your fault. If you didn�t stop the truck--�

�Then these boys will be dead in a week,� he cut in.

I looked back at the two boys who were supposed to be innocent and free from harm.
I cried even harder.

�Hey,� Erik said softly, reaching out to hold my hand. �Calm down.�

�Please, no more hitchhikers�� I begged.

He laughed lightly and squeezed my hand. �No more hitchhikers.�

I almost pulled his warm hold back when he let go to change gear but I stopped
myself. I shouldn�t get used to his touch. I shouldn�t.

Chapter 19

Erik stayed true to his words. We didn�t take on more hitchhikers after we dropped
Kenneth and Jun at their aunt�s place where their mother was staying. I wouldn�t
want to bore you with a sad narration of the things that happened the moment a
small woman, pretty much with the same face as Jun, walked out of the small house
and saw her children.

We stayed there for almost an hour listening to her story and her plans to run away
with her two children so her husband won�t be able to find them. Erik left them his
farm address and phone number in case they find themselves in trouble and without
help. I wanted to extend my help but I knew that I was not in the right place to do
so. I didn�t even have a home of my own to offer. But then I remembered my
grandmother�s empty house and I gave them the address and Manang June�s name (along
with a small note from me) in case they wanted something nearer than Don Salvador.
Kenneth and Jun hugged me and Erik. Really? Like they had a meeting with Clara? I
had to turn around to hide my tears. I didn�t want them to think I pity them. I
wanted them to feel brave for each other and their mother. They just had to be.

By the time we rode back on the road, the truck was loaded with more food offered
by Kenneth and Jun�s aunt.

It was a silent ride back to Bacolod. I think both of us were pretty exhausted with
the unexpected dramas of the journey.

It was nearly dark when we reached the City of Smiles. The noise was almost
unbearable. I was getting used to just the rushing wind and the sound of the wheels
against the asphalt. The honking, the bustling noise of people and the light
traffic was starting to get into my nerves. But there was a different atmosphere
from every corner of the city. I could see a lot of colorful banderitas and Chinese
lanterns covering the streets like a ceiling.
Manang June was surprised to see us back but she was soon busily cooking food to
fill us. We unloaded everything we bought, me wondering why we even re-stocked the
truck. Erik told me to leave everything that would not spoil at the backseat. After
all, we would be leaving for Don Salvador in a week.

It reminded me of the time capsule. I could finally get a hold of it. I could
finally read the letters.

�What if the tree�s no longer there?� Erik asked as we climbed the stairs up to our
respective rooms. We had just finished eating.

�It has to be,� I retorted with so much spirit. I didn�t sacrifice weeks from my
business for nothing. I had tried to travel to the places she had mentioned in her
diary in hopes of knowing more of her. But why did it seem that the journey was all
about me? I had to get to that time capsule.

�Would you care to join me at the balcony?� Erik invited me in a casual tone.

�Sure,� I answered and followed him to wherever balcony he had in mind because
honestly, I didn�t know if there was one other than the one I found in my room.

One reason why I said yes was that I was not ready to enter my mother�s room. The
room she had shared with my aunt Christina. It was kind of creepy, really.

Erik led me to my grandfather�s library. It was a decent one with a lot of books
piled neatly on bookshelves. His study table was empty except for two picture
frames. I never got the chance to look at them my first time here so I immediately
went and grabbed the first one nearest me. It was a picture of my grandmother in
her younger days. The second was the baby version of me. I felt the tears starting
to flood my vision as I stared at it. A pang in my chest started. My grandfather
kept a picture of me in his study.

If only�

I stopped myself. I didn�t like thinking along the lines that started with those
words anymore.

Erik had opened the door that led to the balcony overlooking the back of the house.
It was not a pretty sight. Nothing like the one we had in Apo Island anyway. But it
didn�t matter. Erik�s presence could fill the lacking elements for a romantic
moment.

Shit! I shouldn�t think that way.

�The Masskara Festival has already started, you know,� he opened a good
conversation that I could actually participate in without thinking about his lips,
his hands and his touch.

�Oh, really?� So that was what the festive atmosphere was all about, I realized.

Erik nodded, sitting on the ground and leaning his back against the iron railings
of the balcony. I did the same, making sure I put enough space between us. But my
hands seemed to protest the lack of distance because they landed on the ground as
if to support me, staying close to Erik, almost touching his jeans. I knew what my
fingers wanted to do--to run through his hair--and I scolded them to not think
about it. I had to behave myself.

�The dance parade is tomorrow. Would you like to come?� He asked, turning his head
to face me.
Thank God for the darkness, I didn�t have to pretend that I was looking him
straight in the eyes. �Sure,� I answered with excitement. After everything we went
through, attending one of the biggest events of the city was promising.

�Rock will be glad to hear that.�

The small smile on my face disappeared. I struggled to pull them right back as I
asked, �Rock?�

He nodded. �Her text just came through earlier. She invited us to spend the whole
day tomorrow with her and some friends.�

�But Erik, I don�t know them--�

�It�s not like you don�t hang out with total strangers back in Manila,� he cut in
softly.

I was actually expecting to spend the remaining days of my stay with him. Alone, if
possible. �Sure. Why not? I won�t be staying long in Negros. Better make lots of
friends faster, right?�

Something flashed across his face for a brief moment before I could decipher it.
Was it about my mention of making more friends? Or was it about me leaving Negros
soon? The hopeful part of me wanted to shout that the latter was the reason, but I
was reminded that he just invited me to spend time with him and Rock. I would be
the third wheel. Nobody likes that.

I wished we were holding something--a can of beer or a glass of wine. I�d love
something to hold and keep my hands busy with. The silence between us as we looked
up at the starry sky was not uncomfortable. It was something I would feel with
someone I had been with for years. It was surprising I felt it with this man. But
the tension, the one that tingled in my whole system, was there lingering and ready
to attack at the smallest provocation.

Shit, I couldn�t help it. I just had to steal a look at him, did I? And of course
he caught me staring. Our gazes locked for a moment and since I was already an
expert from avoiding the obvious force pulling us together, I tore my eyes away
from his first. The only thing I was not able to control was the deep breath I took
and the heavy sigh that followed. In that amount of breath I took were the
frustrations I had at the moment. Why couldn�t he be someone I could just have a
fling with? Why did I care if we didn�t end up together? Why was I fighting too
hard anyways? There was only one answer and she was named Rock.

I was processing the question about him and Rock but he was the one who spoke
first. The moment he did, all thoughts flew away. �You want to talk about it?�

My mind was already blank. I thought I knew what he was talking about but a big
part of me was hoping it was about something else entirely. �About what?�

He turned his body toward me just
my face. I tried my best to focus
to make a wish. What would I wish
kept looking at me with patience.
the pretense. I turned to him and
slightly and leaned to the right to see more of
my gaze up the sky, silently counting seven stars
for? I was thinking. But Erik was persistent. He
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. I gave up
I was immediately locked in a gaze-war with him.

�Do you?� he urged.

�What are you talking about?� I tried for the last time.
�Steph, you know what I am talking about. We didn�t get the chance to really talk
about it after it--they--happened.�

I blushed when he changed to the plural form. It just meant he still remembered the
first time we kissed. �The first time we did, we fought.�

�I think having the second one means things changed.�

�Like what?� I couldn�t ask but be eager.

He raised two eyebrows and smirked. �We are attracted to each other.�

�That�s a given, yes.�

�And�� he said slowly, his face coming closer. My heart started to thump against my
ribcage. �Do you think it�s about time�� he continued, his nose just a centimeter
away. I gulped in anticipation. My brain was telling me this was not going to
happen and that something would come up and spoil the moment. �We act on it?� he
finished and I almost pulled him toward me. But I couldn�t. We were on my
grandfather�s office balcony. For a second I pictured an old man with a scowl on
his face looking at us almost sprawled on the floor with nothing much of an inch
between us.

I was about to open my mouth when I felt Erik�s shoulders start to shake and he
threw his head back and laughed.

�Don�t ever do it again!� I said, kicking him away from me.

When his laughter died down, his eyes sparkled and looked at me. �Did I give you a
heart attack?� he asked with a chuckle.

�No. I was actually about to say no.�

Two eyebrows raised above his eyes. �Really?�

I scrambled on my feet and looked down at him proudly. �You are not that hard to
resist, you know.�

And then I left him, my head held high.

The next day, I woke up with a series of knocks on my door.

�What?� I grumbled. I didn�t really care if I was heard.

�Hey, get up. We�re going to be late,� Erik�s voice was now above me. No, scratch
that. He was hovering so close above my face. Startled, I threw myself on my back
and my legs lifted themselves up and my feet sent him two steps away from me. �Hey!
�

�What the hell are you doing in my room?�

�I knocked.�

�I did not say you can come in!�

�Well, I thought otherwise.� He stepped back from the bed with an amused look. �You
look great with your bedroom look.�

It was not really a good idea for my heart to stop beating so early in the morning
so I shoved a pillow his way and scared him away with another. He left, leaving a
trail of laughter behind. I quickly took a shower when I realized it was almost
lunch time.

�It�s about time,� Erik commented when I went down in a pair of shorts, a simple
black shirt and my flats. I already gave up on my precious sandals. My babies
couldn�t just take the rough roads they had travelled.

�I feel underdressed,� I complained as I sat down around the table.

Erik looked at me and shrugged. �You look fine. The best outfit so far.�

I rolled my eyes. I had asked Manang Jun to wash my clothes but she did it the
traditional way so they were still damp. I didn�t have anything else other than my
other dresses which were only good for parties and clubs. I knew that the Masskara
festival would be very crowded and wearing a party dress was not really a good
idea. I was in the city and I wasted my decent dresses in towns that didn�t care
much about how I looked.

We finally left the house after lunch. Erik said that if we wanted to have a good
view, we had to come early. The sun had decided to shine today. In fact, it was too
happy it was too hot. Sweat was starting to tickle down the side of my face and I
could feel them dampen the back of my shirt the moment we stepped out of the truck.

I didn�t bother bringing my wide-brim hat for fear of another comment from Erik so
I used my hands as shield.

Erik surprised me when he took off his baseball hat and put it on my head. Of
course, I didn�t give it back. I snuggled it into my head, grateful for the shade.
We walked two blocks from the parking space we found to the center of the
festivity. People of all ages were scattered around the street which had been
closed for the event. Balloons of different cartoon characters were floating in the
air. Children kept throwing toys that could spin up in the air and back down.
Vendors of smiling masks kept asking if we wanted one. There were also headbands
with red horns that you could light up in the dark. Food and drinks were
everywhere. Kiosks selling almost the same things were lined up around the public
plaza. We circled once and when I said I was tired, Erik pulled me to one of the
kiosks where we managed to grab seats to sit down. For a few minutes, he was busy
checking his phone for messages and replying. I did the same. I didn�t want to
think anything about him texting Rock. I checked in with the managers of my coffee
shops and replied to my father�s message.

When it was time for the parade and the dance competition, we found a perfect spot
just beside the large speakers. I was not bothered by the loud sound that vibrated
against my chest because my eyes were being amused by the different costumes of the
dancers parading into the plaza. I was busy taking pictures when Erik grabbed my
hand.

�Come on, the dances will start.�

We managed to squeeze in the crowd and entered the plaza where the competition will
be held.

Almost all barangays in the city--even other towns--participate in the dance

competition. All dancers wear different colorful costumes and of course, the ever
famous smiling masks that made Bacolod famous. The masks have their own artistic
touches and it is also part of the judging. But the most important one is the dance
itself. Each group has more or less than fifty people dancing and all of them have
their own gimmicks.

I didn�t realize how hot it was when the dance finally began. Unluckily, it started
to drizzle.

�Do you want to find somewhere to wait out the rain?� Erik asked over the noise.

I shook my head. We couldn�t find a single shelter in this crowd, I said. He nodded
and adjusted the cap on my head to secure it.

I was not sure how long the competition went on because we decided to skip the
announcement of the winner because the rain started to go down heavier. I was so
sure who would win but Erik had his own bet on another barangay. We fought over it
as we drove the truck away from the crowded street.

�Can�t we go home first and change?� I asked a while later when he told me that
Rock was waiting for us to pick her up.

�You look fine,� he said as he maneuvered the truck into a less crowded street. �We
have to get to Lacson street before the electric parade starts. People will be
swarming any moment and we would find it hard to park near.�

I sighed. �Fine.�

Rock was as pretty as always, dressed in a simple shirt, pants and sandals. And she
looked fresh and clean. We were in their living room drinking green mango shake
when she appeared. I felt itchy and dirty just by looking at her.

�Hi!� she greeted me first, giving me a peck.

�That hurts, you know,� Erik said, feigning an ache in his chest. �You greet her
and not me?�

Rock gave him a playful punch and a hug. �You will always be the last. You�re
special that way,� she said.

�Now, that�s good to know�� he uttered.

Rock turned to me and said, �He likes to feel special,� without even bothering to
whisper.

�Hey, I heard that,� Erik retorted.

�Let�s go?� Rock asked and we left her house. She was asking me about our trip
outside of town as we neared the truck.

�Oh, you ride in front,� she said when both of us reached for the door of the
passenger seat.

I stepped back. �No, you take it. I like riding at the back anyway,� I lied.

Erik was oblivious of our exchange because he was busy looking for his key in his
pockets.
�You sure?� Rock asked.

�Of course,� I lied again, walking to the back of the truck. �I don�t want to sit
beside him anyway,� I joked and Rock laughed.

When we were all settled in, I was the only one who felt like there was something
wrong. I was the backseat passenger. No one likes. You would have to lean over
between them just to keep up with the conversation. But I didn�t do it. I stayed
close to the window and listened to Rock and Erik talk. I answered a few questions
Rock threw my way, but they were mostly alone.

I didn�t like how I felt either. Rock was sitting on my seat. It was my throne and
it had been for the last two weeks or more. I had slept there. I had cried my heart
in that very spot. But why did it feel like Rock was more suited to be there? She
looked so comfortable. One foot was even resting on top of the seat!

For the first time, I felt insecure. I felt dirty like hell. I was pretty certain I
smelled like the heat of the sun. I felt under-dressed. And I felt alone.

Chapter 20

While Erik filled Rock with stories of our trip, specifically taking more time
telling her about our visit to the police station, I pretended to be busy scanning
messages on my phone when there was none. I pestered my managers on unnecessary
things which they tried very hard to address while secretly wishing that I was back
in that prison cell with Erick�s head on my lap

From time to time, Rock and Erik would burst out laughing. He would try to tease me
and Rock would defend my honor. She was actually a good person but a part of me
wished she was the evil queen so that I could find a reason to hate her without
doubt.

And the worst part of the ride was the song played on the radio, Passenger Seat. I
loved that song since I heard it, but as I witnessed Rock and Erik singing along
with the song like they were making a freaking music video, I just had to start
hating the song. I deleted it on my phone. I could never listen to it the same way
I did before. Childish? Not really.

We spent a great deal of the afternoon outside Bob�s Caf� located along Lacson
Street. The caf� itself was setting up a stage in the middle of the street (also
closed for the upcoming event). I was enjoying my Choco Crunchies frapp when Erik
stood up and went to the men�s room. It was the first time I was left with Rock.
She smiled at me and asked if I was enjoying my stay in Negros.

I said yes. Erik left the part of my travel agenda untold and I was grateful for
that. I didn�t want people to think I only decided to know more about my
grandmother after her death though I pretty much told everyone during the eulogy.
But I was sure that was already forgotten.

�It�s a good thing you have Erik to go with you. He knows Negros pretty well.�

Yeah, but I doubt he knows how to be prepared during car breakdowns, I answered in
my head. �Yeah, he�s good company,� I uttered instead. �You two are really close,
aren�t you?�

�Nah�he�s a great friend. We literally grew up together. His parents are great as
well. You have met them?�

�Once. My dad introduced us.�

Rock gave me a dimpled smile. Her gaze travelled from me to Erik who was walking
back to us and it was no denying the feelings she had for him.

I knew that look and I was afraid to admit I was wearing the same thing for the
past few days. I shook the thought out of my head. Whatever they had between them,
I was out of it. I should be out of it.

As they continued to talk, I decided to observe the things happening around the
caf�. It was nice to get a few ideas I could apply in my chain as well.

�Steph?� Erik nudged and I looked at him with a blank expression.

�What?�

�I asked you if you want more food,� he repeated the question I didn�t catch.

�No, I�m fine. What do we do after this?� I asked, already impatient. I wanted to
roam around Lacson street. My restless feet wanted to unwind and get away from the
tension that, obviously, only I was feeling.

Rock was cool with us roaming around and seeing the different kiosks lined up along
the street. Erik, on the other hand, was frowning at me. I knew he sensed something
was wrong, but I gave him the most natural smile I could muster at that moment and
walked with Rock.

I really couldn�t get myself to hate her. She was a fantastic company and I was
able to forget about Erik as we walked on ahead with him tailing us like a lost
puppy.

Rock and I ended up buying the glowing headband horns which we planned to light up
later that night. A lot of kiosks were still closed, most were just getting ready.
Erik was starting to complain about getting tired but we wanted to walk the whole
stretch to the Bacolod Lagoon which was the last part of the closed road. And plus,
I was starting to get comfortable being with Rock. She was bubbly and fun to talk
with and we shared a great deal of things in common like movies, books and music
(but not the Passenger Seat for certain).

At that same day, I decided to diagnose myself with acute bipolar disorder. I was
down one moment and then I was ecstatic the next. While in the truck, I was looking
at myself like I was the most pitiful creature in the planet. And on the street,
talking and being comfortable with Rock, I was the usual hyper Steph. I teased Erik
whenever I get the chance after Rock told me about the story of him pissing in his
pants inside the classroom when he was in grade 1. His face reddened when he
realized I was no longer innocent of his most embarrassing moment.

�Hey, Erik, you want to go to the bathroom?� I asked and followed it with a giggle.

Raising an eyebrow, he made a grab for me, �Really? You want to continue with this?
�

I squealed and tried to run away but his arm caught my waist. �Aha!� he shouted in
victory, lifting me off the ground and whirled around like Goliath himself.

Some passersby looked on before they continued with their slow walks. But what
caught my sight was the look on Rock�s eyes as she looked at us. My laughter died
down and the smile on my face faded.

�Put me down,� I told Erik in a very serious tone. He must have noted the absence
of my playful tone so he obliged with a grin.

I shot him a sharp look, straightening my shirt. �Don�t do it again,� and then I
turned around to the nearest open kiosk. I stopped jesting him about the �pissing�
incident after that. Yes, I was right. I was bipolar that day.

Party lights replaced the absence of natural light when evening came. The sky was
cloudless, a good sign for a festive activity. Different establishments had their
own beam lights pointed up in the air, indicating the presence of parties
everywhere. We stayed along Lacson Street though. By this time, Rock and I had our
glowing, red horn headbands on. We ate outside Inaka, a local Japanese restaurant.
We managed to steal a table and a few chairs outside the restaurant where we had
our dinner while we watched the band in the middle of the street. Rock and Erik�s
friends started coming and I was introduced to them. Most were welcoming and
friendly, others were just simply shy.

I had to make an effort to make myself welcome in the group. Not that I complained.
I was used to being the queen of groups back home. It is part of the first step to
become the life of a party: make yourself welcome and at home--like you have been
with them more than once. And it was not hard for me. I had been jumping from one
group of friends to another since I started going out at night. It made me
comfortable. I didn�t have to make a lot of uncomplicated relationships. Everyone
was just someone I had a party with and someone I might not meet again.

We waited for the Electric Masskara and I greatly enjoyed it. The masks and the
dancers were covered with lights and the effect was just amazing in the darkness of
the evening. I even had to climb on a chair to take awesome pictures.

After the event, we stayed for a couple of drinks before deciding on any
activities.

Erik never left my side. He was joining the conversation but I knew he was
concerned about me feeling out of place.

�I�m fine, really. You can make yourself enjoy the night. I am really okay,� I told
him when the group decided to leave and walk along Lacson Street once more.

�I don�t really care about you,� he said with a grin. �To be honest, I have never
been around these people for a long time. I am the one feeling out of place. So
please don�t leave me.�

I had to laugh at that. �I promise. I won�t let you go until we get back home.�

He playfully wound his arm over my shoulders, �Thank you!�

My hands gently pushed him away to where Rock was and said, �You can also ask Rock
to take care of you, you know.�

�She�s busy,� he whined, stepping right back beside me. �And you will need a
protector. Just look at the crowd!� I did and I could see why I needed his
presence. People were walking along the street, almost touching each other from
head to toe.

As we walked into the crowd at the right side of the road where people were walking
to the Lagoon, I had to cross my arms over my chest to protect my breasts. Erik
kept his arm around my shoulders, pushing men out of my way when they came too
close.

The rest of the group, along with Rock, had already made a lot of progress ahead of
us. Giving up on catching up, Erik pulled me to the side of the street and away
from traffic, and we found ourselves in front of a kiosk selling drinks served in
syringes. There were drinks being sold in IV bottles and you drink them through the
IV line attached to them.

Erik bought us both a cocktail of syringes and we enjoyed pushing the drinks into
our mouth as we strolled along the road, none of us not caring where the others
were.

He told me about finding himself beside the street last year, too drunk he had to
sleep on the sidewalk.

�Really? Who were you with?�

He shook his head. �No one. I didn�t find out where everybody was.�

I laughed out loud, almost choking on my drink. He patted my back as I coughed.

�Good thing you were not robbed,� I said a while later.

�I actually woke up without a shirt on. But I had my pants on,� he managed to say
the last sentence before I could ask about it.

When we finished our drinks, we got rid of the containers and walked on. A big
stage was already packed with people just outside the Philippine National Bank.
What we didn�t expect was to be pulled to that area by the crowd behind us and with
the little alcohol we had in our system, we let ourselves be carried by the crowd,
Erik�s hand tightly closed around mine.

And then things started to go wrong. Everyone was counting and I only realized what
was going on when they were in number 7.

�Erik! I think we better go!�

�Why?!� he asked, his face completely oblivious. I wanted to slap him and tell him
what the hell the activity was all about but it was too late. Everyone was on 3.

�It�s like Lovapalooza, dimwit! Let�s get out of here!�

�Lova what?�

Really? He had no idea what it was?

�One!� Everyone shouted and all the couples locked their mouths in different types
of kisses.

�We can still see some couples not kissing!� a man on the stage shouted.

And then he spotted us. Why didn�t he just look at the old couple five couples
away?

�Well?� he asked as the camera pointed at me and Erik. I saw us on the big monitor
on stage (I looked great with horns) and I was just about to walk away when Erik�s
hand pulled me back.
�Let�s go!� I said in panic, pulling him away from the crowd.

�Come on, guys! Kiss! Let�s set a record here!� said the man on stage.

Erik had that sheepish grin on his face as he leaned down toward me. �Let�s just
get this over with,� he whispered before claiming my mouth.

The moment the impact happened, all inhibitions I may have had these past few days
flew away. Hey, it was a mass kissing event! I had wanted to go to one before but
my ex-boyfriend, the one who cheated on me, decided it would have been more fun to
go with someone else--my ex-best friend. Of course, I found out about it after the
break-up.

But anyway, yes, I took the opportunity of being trapped in that moment with Erik
kissing me just like the first time we did. If the couples kissing behind us were
walls, we would have leaned against them. When earlier I was pulling him out of the
crowd, right that moment I was pulling him toward me. The kiss was not as urgent as
the first one and definitely not short-lived as the second one. It was slow, almost
sensual. And I couldn�t hear anything. My ears were vibrating, my eyes closed and
my hands busy. Erik was caressing my neck while his other arm trapped me against
him.

The sad part was when everything had to stop. We were among the last few couples
who managed to fight ourselves and finally let go. But Erik held on to my hand and
he led me away from the cheering crowd.

I was a walking pet robot. I didn�t know where we were going. I was still
intoxicated from the kiss when I saw Rock and the others just outside Island Spoon,
waving at us with drinks in hand. Erik grinned down at me before he let me go and
we walked toward the others.

It was a good thing no one saw us leave the crowd that had been kissing earlier.

I really thought the group was just like any other had ever been, but I noticed a
lot of difference. They were closer than I thought. It was like they had known each
other outside night clubs. I found that different because I never really had
friends outside the night life. Yes, some of them knew each other from work, but
most of them just go together whenever they were in the mood for fun--to escape.
And that was how it was for me.

But this group was different. They were there to have fun, get together, catch up
and just spend more time with each other. And to make it even more different for
me, they decided to go to a KTV. What? No clubs? No dancing and crazy lights? No
loud music that you have to shout and push your way through the crowd? Just KTV?
How boring could it get?

I was wrong again. The moment we managed to grab a room in Island Spoon, the group
started looking for any music they wanted to sing and reserved them on the machine.
I sat at one corner because I was not a singer. Really. I could dance the whole
night, but I could never sing a single line with a microphone in hand.

The songs started great but after a few buckets of San Miguel Lights and a lot of
cheese sticks and garlic mushroom, everyone picked a song they were familiar with
but couldn�t sing alone. If they were lucky, one of them would finish it or if not,
they push the skip button.

�You okay?� Erik asked for the nth time.

�Yes!� I answered, tipping my bottle at his direction.

When the intro of Even the Nights Are Better started, I instantly knew whose song
it was and I looked at Erik with daggers in my eyes.

�What?� he laughingly asked. He stood up and grabbed the microphone from Bert, his
cool and funny friend. �This is mine.�

The group howled at his choice of song. Rock pumped her fist in the air with a
laugh.

�I�I was the only one. Wondering what went wrong�� he started to walk toward me
with that seductive look on his face and I could feel my face flush. I started to
shake my head vigorously. �Come on, Steph, this is our song,� he grabbed my hand
and pulled me to my feet. Why did it have to be this song? The group started
howling and I saw Rock�s smile falter for a moment before she joined the rest. �Why
love had gone and left me lonely,� Erik continued, squeezing my hand as he looked
into my eyes. I glared at him in return.

If the bottle I had in hand would not be charged to us, I would have smashed it
against his head.

�I�I was so confused, feeling like I�d just been used,� Erik tugged me closer to
him, in front of everyone. �Then you came to me, and my loneliness left me.�

�Go, Steph!� everyone urged on as the music started to change.

�I used to think I was tied to a heartache, that was the heartbreak,� Erik wound
his arm around me and forced me to face everyone else. He pointed the microphone
for us to share. �But now that I found you�� I started to feel the smile forming on
my lips as I felt Erik�s closeness and his friends� encouraging faces.

�Even the nights are better, now that we�re here together,� I shouted with him. I
knew I was ruining one of the most popular songs of Air Supply, but the amused look
on Erik�s face as I sang along was enough motivation for me. I closed my eyes and
sang even harder, �Even the nights are better, since I found you.� Erik took my
hand once more and made me face him. This time, I opened my eyes, the microphone
just below our chins. �Even the days are brighter, when someone you love�s beside
you. Even the nights are better, since I found you��

Everyone sang with us from then on. Erik was playful, acting as if he was on a
concert, pointing the microphone at everyone from left to right.

I had to admit, I enjoyed that song as I did while we sang it on the road.

Rock was next and she chose a song by Christian Bautista. I am not really a fan of
the guy, but hell, his songs have great lyrics! She was just about to start singing
Colour Everywhere when Erik, still in the mood for more songs, grabbed the
microphone from her saying, �This is a guy�s song, Rock.�

When he started to sing, I couldn�t help but wish he was singing it to me. But then
he took Rock�s hand and serenaded her. I just had to pretend like I was enjoying it
as I attacked the remaining garlic mushroom on the plate nearest me, stabbing each
piece with more force than needed.

You, you put the blue back in the sky

You put the rainbow in my eyes

A silver lining in my prayers

And now there�s colour everywhere

I shouted with everyone as Rock joined him in the song, putting her arm around his
waist. I looked away.

You put the red back in the rose

Just when I needed it the most

You came along to show you care

And now there�s colour everywhere

Everywhere

By the time the song was ending, he gave the microphone back to Rock who playfully
pushed him away. He sat back beside me, placing his arm around my shoulders. He
gave me a peck and smiled. �That song was for you, actually.�

Chapter 21

The next day was back to normal. It seemed like everything that happened last night
was just part of a dream. I acted like I couldn�t remember a thing as we ate our
late lunch together. I told him I enjoyed his friends though I still couldn�t
muster the courage to ask him about Rock.

One thing I concluded last night: Rock is into him. The question was: Does he know
or pretend he doesn�t? Because really, who would kiss someone else in a mass
kissing event? Who would say something like, �that song was for you, actually,� to
someone else if he just sang it with the other?

It was confusing enough for me so I ignored the bugging questions. I had other
plans before we had to pack and go to Don Salvador. Bacolod still had a lot of
things to offer and I was in the mood to see all of them.

�Where do you want to go?�

�I heard about The Ruins from Camille last night.�

He frowned. �The Ruins? Haven�t been there, actually.�

I looked at him dryly. �You said you�re the expert. I guess I�ll just go ask Rock
to take me. Or better yet, I�ll text Rudy.�

His head went up. He didn�t like it last night when Rudy sat between us and talked
to me about things I couldn�t even remember. �I told you that guy is never serious
about anyone.�
�Why do you care? He�s funny and nice.�

�I�ll take you to The Ruins. Don�t ask anyone else.�

I shrugged and continued with my food.

Since being underdressed yesterday did not end badly for me after all, I decided to
put on another pair of shorts, my flats, and a shirt with a metallic print of the
traditional Masskara mask.

�You look great,� Erik commented. �Glad you disposed of the dresses.�

I rolled my eyes and climbed inside the truck.

Since he was not very familiar with the way to The Ruins, I decided to get help
from my phone.

�Hey, there�s no thrill in using the GPS,� Erik made a grab for my phone. �Let�s do
it the traditional way.�

We drove to Bata where The Ruins was supposed to be located and stopped the truck
where tricycle drivers were parking. �Can you point us to the Ruins?� Erik asked in
Tagalog.

I did not comment until he got the right answer and rolled the window back up. �I
don�t want to appear stupid by asking in Ilonggo. At least they would understand
why I don�t know the way.�

The way to The Ruins was easy. There were a lot of signs pointing us to the right
direction. When we reached the place, I was awed. I immediately took pictures of
the large mansion, or the remaining of what it used to be. Erik was squinting with
the heat of the sun as he followed me around.

�Take a picture of me. Don�t forget to include the house,� I ordered, giving him my
phone.

He grudgingly obeyed. �One, two, done,� he said.

�I was not ready!� I shouted. �Count properly!�

�Why do I have to do this? Just take a selfie or something,� he said, handing me

back my phone.

�You�re such a spoiler!� I cried out.

�Do you guys need help?� a man asked behind us. He was wearing The Ruins uniform.

�Yes, Roger,� I said, reading his name on his shirt. The small man took my camera.

�Okay, closer�� he ordered at Erik which he obliged grumpily. �One, two, three.�

�That�s the way you do it,� I told Erik.

Roger was obviously used to taking a lot of pictures. He knew the right angles and
all we did was follow him. By the time it was over, we were able to get our
pictures taken from the different parts of the house.

�I will start the tour any moment now. Would you like to join?� asked Roger.
�I don�t think�� Erik started, his face looking tired.

�Yes!� I answered excitedly and we followed Roger.

The guy was funny. Literally funny! He made the tour fun and full of information.
Even Erik laughed in some parts. The house was full of history. It had been built
for the second family of Don Mariano but it was burned down to ruins with the
family�s consent to prevent the Japanese from camping in the house. What amazed me
was how the concrete part of the house was constructed. The cement was mixed with
egg whites (imagine how many chickens and eggs the family had to use) which made
the pillars and the walls shiny and smooth to touch.

�Isn�t it nice?� I asked later as we savored the fresh wind on the second floor of
the burnt mansion. We could see the mountains separating Negros Oriental and
Occidental. The sun was starting to hide behind the horizon, giving a pretty
picture fit for a painting.

�What�s nice?� he asked.

�That this house was made in memory of the owner�s wife.�

�Taj Mahal,� he uttered the same thing as Roger.

�Yeah, like Taj Mahal. There are not a lot of people who could think like Don
Mariano anymore.�

�Not really, no,� he contradicted.

�What? You�re saying you�re one of them? What would you do for someone you love?�

He was silent for a long time before his gaze fixed on mine. �Anything.�

I gulped, looked away and turned around. �Well, good for her--whoever she may be,�
I couldn�t help but say.

�But,� Erik said behind me as we started the narrow path back to the stairs, �I
can�t say I won�t disappoint her. I�ll do anything, but along the way, I will
disappoint her.�

Is that what you think happened with Gela? I almost asked.

�That�s a given. Guys will always disappoint us.�

I was expecting a sharp remark from him, something that would be challenging to
start the usual love debate, but it didn�t come. He just held my elbow and guided
me down the stairs. Honestly, really, I felt like I was Do�a Mariana making a big
entrance down the hallway.

After our trip to The Ruins, we went to the place Bacolodnons refer to as the Old
Pala-pala. Pala-pala is a wet market where fresh seafood is being sold and along
the street, just outside are different native-looking restaurants lining up.
Typically, people would buy and choose anything they want to eat inside the wet
market, bring it to a restaurant of their choice and have it cooked according to
their preference.

Erik literally had to pull me into the market to buy our fresh dinner. I was
worried for my flats. They were all that I was left with what with my precious
golden sandals now resting in peace, probably on their way to the nearest dumping
site in Negros. I slowly followed Erik down the wet market and when he was done
buying whatever he wanted, we went to Hyksus. I sat down on one of the plastic
chairs, resting my elbow on the table covered with plastic. The place was not
appealing to the eyes but what I learned so far was that I should never judge the
restaurant by its looks. When Erik promised me earlier that we would have the best
seafood dinner, I believed him. The Bacolodnon taste was something I was starting
to respect.

After Erik gave the instructions to the server, he sat down across the table from
me. �Would you like to go to Mambukal tomorrow?�

�You said Mambukal has like 7 waterfalls. I don�t think I�m up for that.�

He threw me a challenging look.

�Fine! Whatever!�

His husky chuckle almost gave me a blush.

�You know, your grandmother loved this place.�

�She eats here?�

�Of course. My family and I would always invite her whenever we get dinner here.�

I just nodded. The little things I was learning about my grandmother, I kept to
memory. I wanted to someday tell my kids stories of her and this place.

The only thing I didn�t like about the restaurant was how they had to keep us
waiting for almost an hour. Okay, fine, I just said that to say something bad about
it because the food was terrific. I liked the kinilaw which is raw fish cooked in
vinegar with a lot of onions, tomato and salty egg. My plate was clean at the end
of dinner. Erik had asked for some portion of our food to be packed for Manang
June.

Since the Masskara was still going on, we avoided traffic and went home just in
time to rest and prepare for tomorrow.

Before going to Mambukal, we went to Burgos market.

�We could have asked Manang June to prepare something,� I complained when Erik
explained why we had to drop by the busy market.

�There�s no fun in that,� he said. That was his usual line.

�There is no fun in that,� I mocked.

The market was a mess. My senses were overwhelmed with the different mixture of the
goods being sold. I gaped when I saw tomato being laid out on the ground with just
thin plastics or sacks separating the goods and the concrete. The same thing with
the onions, carrots, bananas�I just had to close my eyes.

Erik laughed when I stopped him from picking the very same tomatoes from the
ground. �Hey, where do you think the tomatoes you buy in the supermarket come from?
These will be washed later, so relax.�
Anxiety started to ebb inside me as Erik walked further inside the large entrance
of the market. We spent just a few minutes outside where the vegetable slots were
lined up and I didn�t think I could take the inside. But in we went and I didn�t
complain.

�Erik,� I whispered beside him. We were deep inside the maze of the market, in the
fish section.

�What?� he asked, his eyes still scanning the tiled table full of bangus or milk
fish.

�Is there any chance that we can drive by the mall later?� I asked, biting my lower
lip in anticipation.

He frowned. �Steph, the malls open at ten am. It�s just 6 am right now.� He picked
a large fish by the tail and handed it to the vendor to weigh. �Why would you want
to go to the mall anyway?�

�I don�t have proper footwear for later,� I admitted.

He looked down at my flats and sighed. �It�s impossible to go to the mall at this
time.�

�Then what should I wear?� I whined. I couldn�t help it!

He didn�t answer me right away. He paid for the fish, took the plastic and handed
it to me. �Hold it,� he ordered and I did so by hooking the sticky handle of the
plastic through my finger.

�Erik, I need something for later. My flats will not make it. Remember what
happened to my sandals?�

He grabbed my hand and pulled me away and back out of the market. I tried very hard
not to let the plastic with the fish inside to touch my legs as I kept up with
Erik�s pace and when we finally stopped, my mouth fell open and a groan escaped my
mouth. �No, please.�

�Yes and yes,� Erik said, letting go of my hand. �Pick one and let�s get this over
with.�

Another groan escaped my throat as I looked at the cheap slippers on display.

�Erik��

�Steph, they are just slippers. Pick one.�

I had to think about the welfare of my precious flats so I took a pair of pink
slippers that were my size and tried them. Before I did, I handed Erik the plastic
of milk fish. He held my hand as I took off my flats and slipped one foot into one
of the slippers.

�Perfect fit,� Erik beamed at me. �Put it on, Cinderella.� I did as he told. The
slippers were actually okay.

�Pay,� Erik ordered after I picked up my flats.

With a sigh, I took a hundred peso bill from my pocket and gave it to the vendor
who in turn gave me a fifty-peso change.

�Oh my God! They are only fifty pesos! Can you believe that?� I asked when we were
out of earshot.

Erik only laughed at my obvious fascination.

The next stop before our trip was the coffee shop just outside the market. It was
not the one I was expecting though. There were no glass windows and doors. There
was not an air-conditioner inside and there were a lot of common people sitting
around tiny tables covered with floral-designed plastics. But any hesitation I felt
was totally erased the moment I took in the aroma of the place. Fresh roasted
coffee beans were piled on wooden boxes and I directly went to examine them. Erik
made the order and we took the only remaining table outside.

�Jeepney drivers and workers usually fill up this place,� Erik explained.

I glanced around and nodded. A faint smile formed on my lips. It was a nice way to
start the morning. There were men who were busy reading the morning paper; then
there were those who sat in groups to talk and laugh about the previous day�s
activities; and there were others who seemed to be in a rush but were not yet ready
to let go of their daily dose of caffeine.

It was a nice experience, honestly. I realized that it is not the place that
matters, but with who you drink your coffee with.

The Mambukal ride was not disappointing. The scene outside my open window was
terrific. There were a lot of greens and though Mambukal is pretty near the city
proper, cows and carabaos were present. Sugarcane plantations were never absent as
well. For the first time, I experienced the merging of the modern world and the
simplicity of nature and of the people. While cool cars revved down the concrete
road to the mountains, farmers were walking beside it, guiding a carabao or two to
their next destination.

�It�s beautiful,� I uttered to Erik as I fed him his piece of his piaya. I was busy
feeding myself with my other hand.

�You haven�t seen the rest of it yet,� he bragged.

And he was right. Mambukal was fascinating. The moment we entered the gates after
paying for the cheap entrance fee, we were immediately greeted with tall trees,
good-looking cottages, the sound of the birds (they were everywhere) and a lot of
possible activities. I couldn�t help but feel the excitement.

�I thought you didn�t want to go?� Erik asked with a laugh as I suggested we eat
first, then go hiking, then to the butterfly garden, the hot spring, then wall
climbing if we can still had the energy and maybe try the kayak.

I did not answer and instead, urged him on down the river which we had to cross to
go to the next set of cottages.

�Don�t you dare let go!� I cried out as I tightly held on to his hand for dear life
as I skipped from one stone to another. If I as much as trip over and fall, I�d be
in real trouble down the riverbank.

And of course, he cooked our brunch. I watched him make fire after preparing the
fish by stuffing it with tomatoes and onions. As we waited for our fish, we watched
the kids jumping up and down the pool, playing like they would not be returning
soon. Sad for me, I was not like those kids who had a cottage to go back to because
Erik decided we didn�t need one since we would be leaving soon to go hiking. He
found a big rock with a flat surface to serve both as our table and chair.

�Where�s the spoon and fork?� I asked when Erik finally served the fish and opened
the container of rice.

He gave me a look and I forgot about it. Fine! If it was really intended that I
learn to feed myself with my bare hands, I better do it now. I watched how Erik
formed the rice with his fingertips, added a piece of fish meat, and finally pick
it up to put into his mouth. The first try brought a laugh out of Erik, but with
the second one I got a, �Good job, Steph!�

When we were ready to go hiking, we walked to the registry station, wrote our names
and then went up to the first fall with our guide. I was proud of my slippers by
the time I managed to catch my breath. The guide asked us if we wanted to take some
pictures and I said yes. I gave him my phone and pulled Erik beside me for a pose.
The second waterfall was just a few minutes away from the first one but the track
was narrow. The third and the fourth, you wouldn�t want to know. It was like
climbing a freaking wall!

By the time we reached the sixth waterfall, we took a long rest. I was really out
of breath by then.

�There�s a tiange over there,� Erik pointed up the hill and my eyes bulged.

�Please don�t tell me we are hiking up there.�

�Yes, we are,� he uttered with a smile though I knew he was laughing inside.

I glared at him. �I was right when I said I didn�t want to hike.�

�Hey, this is good for your heart. Come on, get up,� he pulled me up with both
hands.

On the way to the last waterfall, Erik was carrying me on his back.

It couldn�t be helped, really. My legs felt like they were heavier than a boulder
and I was nearly in tears when I told him I couldn�t make it. Really, it was his
idea. I was surprised when he looked at me with concern, dropped on the ground,
guided my arm over his shoulders, and then lifted me off the ground.

When we finally reached our destination, I was glad I came. The waterfall was not
that tall, but the water was great. And it was the fulfillment of having hiked
through six waterfalls that sent tears to my eyes.

�Hey,� Erik said, playfully wrapping an arm over my shoulders. �The waterfall�s
that way, not in your eyes.�

I punched him in the chest as I bit the tears back my throat. And then it occurred
to me that we were standing too close. The place was not helping as well. It made a
prefect romantic scene. So I pushed him away saying, �Let�s jump in!�

The moment I did, I regretted it. The water was far from the warmth Erik�s body was
offering me earlier. I started to shiver at first and I was about to give up and
climb back to the rocks when Erik, after taking off his shirt, followed and pulled
me near where the water was falling heavily.

�Erik, no!� I shouted, but the sound of the waterfall drowned my protests. The
pressure almost pushed me away if not for Erik�s strong grasp around my waist. We
managed to hide behind the curtain of water, into the calm small room behind it. It
was amazing how a strong force could hide a calm place inside it.

�How the hell do we get out?� I asked, tugging my shirt back down after it had been
lifted high under my breasts by the current. �I don�t think I can pass through that
thing again!� I said to Erik.

He was smiling down at me, his eyes soft and filled with�was it happiness? �Can I
tell you something?�

�What?� I asked, too busy stopping myself from pushing his hair out of his
forehead.

He wiped his dripping face with his hand. �The first time I was here, I wanted to
do something but never got the chance to do it with the right company.�

My smile faded. Did he mean jumping off that waterfall? No, not going to happen.
�What is it?� I asked wearily.

Instead of answering, he smiled and bent down to touch his lips against mine.

Have you ever experienced stepping inside a cold shower and turned on the heater?
That was it for me. Everything was cold, but the moment Erik�s mouth claimed mine a
sudden gush of heat swarmed through me. My hands that had been restless from the
deprivation I had been enforcing on them earlier went up his bare chest, over his
shoulders and finally rested on his nape, playing with his hair.

His hands pulled me closer to him and our bodies molded in a perfect fit as we
enjoyed the kiss. I couldn�t consider that a stolen moment, but when a group of
friends decided to get their own massage experience under the waterfall, our lips
parted. Erik leaned his forehead against mine as we caught our breath. He was
smiling and I had to pull away before I reached out and pull him for another kiss.

As I thought of it, I was grateful we had some kind of a mutual understanding that
a kissing incident should never be discussed after. We had tried that, but it never
really worked. So yes, we forgot about them--or so I tried. I didn�t know about
him.

The trip back down was easier. Erik suggested the shortcut so I could see a
completely different view. We strode past through a little stream with trees on
both sides, their leaves forming an arch above us. And then there was the cajon of
rice field we passed through at the edge of the hill, overlooking the other side of
the mountain. It was a long walk, but it was worth it. And my slippers were intact,
by the way. I was starting to love them!

We ate at the local restaurant inside the mountain resort.

�It�s getting late,� Erik said when I told him I wanted to try the hot spring. My
clothes were still wet from the waterfall and I didn�t plan on changing until it
was time to go.

�Next time then,� I said with regret.

�If you walked two times faster earlier during the hike, we would still have enough
time for a dip,� he said. �Really, the time we took hiking up the waterfalls was
embarrassing. Some people could have hiked three times already by the time we
finished.�

�That�s an exaggeration!� I cried out. �It was a decent time!�

�And I had to carry you on my back which slowed us even further. Did you see the
guide yawn?�

�Stop it! It was not my fault!�

He only laughed. He had a flush on his face from the hike and it looked good on
him.

While on the way to the truck, he looked back at me and said, �Come here.� He took
my hand in his and hooked his fingers through mine. �The hot spring is not really
that good, you know.�

�I know it is great,� I whined. We passed by the place earlier and it looked

marvelous and inviting. I felt like it was speaking to me.

Erik sighed. �If we decide to stay for that hot spring, we have to stay the night.
I am beat and I don�t think I can drive back to Bacolod in my condition. Remember,
I carried you and you are not that light.�

I punched him on the chest. �I will not stay the night in this place with you! You
say and do the craziest things!�

�Oh well, next time then, hot spring.�

When we reached the truck, I was still thinking of the hot spring with regret. We
should have tried it first before the hike! I grabbed my bag with my extra clothes
in it to carry to the changing room. Erik said he�d change in the truck so I went
alone, thinking about a lot of things at the same time. I thought of our trip to
Don Salvador after this week, the hot spring, the kiss, the hike, the hot spring
again, and more of the hot spring.

When I got back, I found Erik wearing a serious look on his face. �What�s wrong?� I
asked with a frown.

�It won�t start,� Erik answered, his hand turning the key once more.

�Oh, God, please not again!� I cried out. �Really, what�s wrong with your truck?�

After another attempt, Erik gave up and leaned against his chair. He turned to me
with that boyish smile of his. �I think it�s safe to say you can go dive into that
hot spring.�

Chapter 22

�I need to get the truck checked in Bacolod tomorrow,� Erik said as we walked to
the registry station to get a room for two.

�You better. I can�t imagine it breaking down when we go to Don Salvador,� I

answered with not a bit of disappointment. My mind was already directed to the hot
spring. �Or we could use the van.�

�No way I�m leaving my truck behind for a week,� he said with defiance.
�Make sure it can last another week or so. I don�t want to go to the airport
without a ride.� My mention of the airport was unintentional but Erik seemed to not
like it. Well, what else did he expect? That I�d stay for months? Or maybe for
good? As much as I was starting to like Negros, I was not born here. I was raised
for the harsh life in Makati. There, I could get a different kind of adrenaline
high. And there, I could meet other people who might just help me get me back to
reality.

We reached the station and were immediately greeted with bad news.

�How can you be full? There are like a hundred rooms out there!� I cried. I
couldn�t spend another night inside Erik�s truck.

�It�s Masskara season,� Erik explained for the woman behind the counter. �How about
the hotel?� There is a small hotel for those who are on a budget.

�Full. Some students came here and they occupied all the rooms,� the lady informed
us.

Erik turned to me with raised eyebrows. I did not say a word.

�If you have a tent, the camping ground still has space for more campers,� the lady
said, trying to be helpful.

With a proud smile, Erik said, �Oh, I do have a tent. We�ll take the camping
ground.�

�This is safe, right? I don�t want to wake up kidnapped,� I whined as I carried the
tent out of the truck, one that he hid under the seat. Erik�s arms were full of our
other belongings.

�Of course. You heard the lady. There�s a guard assigned to watch over the place.�

A while later, we were busy setting up camp. �I should be dipping in the spring
right now,� I groaned as I threw the rod on the ground, giving up my attempt to set
up the tent.

Erik was building fire and he looked over his shoulder to where I was helplessly
standing. �I told you how to do it a thousand times. I even managed to set up my
first tent on my own.�

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. �Hey, I am doing my best here.�

�Standing with your arms across your chest is not doing your best.�

�This is your truck�s fault. It must hate me or something,� I almost wailed as I

bent down to pick the rod.

Erik stood up and brushed his hands together. �Let me help you with that.�

�Great!� I cried with glee but he was shaking his head.

�I�ll do the tent, you do the fire.�

�What? I don�t know how to do it from scratch!�

�You have everything you need for a fire. Stop complaining.�

I turned to the stack of wood he managed to collect earlier. I picked up the box of
matches and a groan escaped my lips. I looked around at the other campers who were
a good distance away from us. They were already cooking their own barbecue as they
played their guitars and laughed with their drinks.

�Where are you going?� Erik cried out when I suddenly stood up.

�Getting the fire started!� I cried over my shoulder.

I approached a couple of youths who were busy feeding their own fire. How did they
manage to make it grow that big?

�Hi!� I greeted and they all stared at me with a curious look on their faces. I
tried my best to speak in Hiligaynon. �My friend over there doesn�t know how to
build a fire and I am hungry I can�t do it alone. Is it possible you can give me
some of your burning woods?� I tried to look like an angel begging to be sent back
to heaven.

A girl with spectacles answered with a smile, �Sure!� she bent over to pick a long
stick of burning wood. I looked over my shoulder and saw Erik looking at our
direction with curiosity.

�Thank you so much!� I cried with glee when I was handed the burning wood. I ran as
fast as I could to where our dead woods were and started working.

Erik was watching me with amusement and praise. �I never thought you are that
resourceful.�

�I try my best,� I stated with pride. The fire eventually started eating the other
woods and when I was sure it will not die, I stood up and brushed debris out of my
hands.

�Now you can take a dip in that hot spring, my lady,� Erik mocked a bow with a rod
in his hand.

�Thank you, I would,� I said with a curtsy and left.

I was enjoying the warmth the hot spring was offering when he decided to appear.

�What now?� I demanded.

�You�ve been here long enough. You can�t stay in the spring for too long or you�ll
get dizzy.�

�But--�

He arched at eyebrow down at me. �And we still have to cook dinner. Remember?�

�You can�t do it alone?�

�Yes, I could. But I thought it will rude if I make my own dinner and eat alone.�

�You�re impossible!� I gritted, stood up and climbed the steps out of the hot
spring. The sudden coldness of the night attacked me and I almost shivered if not
for Erik�s rescue with his towel. I secretly smelled it and my senses were
immediately bombarded by his scent. He had that faint masculine scent that you
would think it was his natural one.

�Now that you had your fill with the hot water in the spring, it�s time you boil
some for our dinner,� he said as we walked toward the camping ground. My slippers
were making a weird noise with each step that I make. The night was silent except
for the constant chirps of the birds, the sound of the bats, the distant laughter
from some of the cottages, the rush of the leaves when the wind blew by, and my
slippers. It was a peaceful night with a lot of stars visible in the sky. I looked
up at them as I hugged Erik�s towel around me tightly. I counted seven stars and
started a wish. Ever since I could remember, I would always ask for one thing:
plain, utter happiness. I wanted to feel it in its truest form, something I had
never really experienced. It might just be wishful thinking on my part, but deep
inside, I knew that it was what I had always wanted. And I�d take it in any form it
would come to.

�What did you wish for?� Erik asked and my moment was broken into pieces.

I threw him a stingy look. �Nothing that concerns you,� I said.

He chuckled and looked up the sky for a brief moment. �I don�t think the stars can
do a lot about it though.�

�How can you say?� I peered at his shadowed face.

He shrugged. �Sometimes, what we wish for is something we just have to do on our

own.�

�You should have become a priest, you know,� I smirked at him. �You�ll make a
pretty good sermon every Sunday.�

�I considered that,� his voice was serious when he said that.

I stopped on my tracks. �You did?�

�Yeah,� he stopped and chuckled at my expression. He walked back to where I was

standing and took my hand. �But then I decided I can never give up a lot of
things.�

�Like what?�

He turned to me with a grin and said, �Sex.�

I snorted. �Figured!�

When we got back to our tent, he told me to get some water and put it in a small
pot he carried with him everywhere. Would you believe it was in his bag? Yes, I�m
not kidding. It was in his damned bag. And when he took it out, it felt like I was
watching a magician taking out a rabbit out of a hat. It was magic how he could
stuff things inside that one.

It was a good thing he bought a lot of noodles and canned goods from Kabankalan.
They were our dinner and we devoured them the moment they were ready. The rice was
not well-cooked, thanks to my wrong measurement of the water. But other than that,
we had a pretty decent meal.

The next problem was the sleeping arrangement. There was only one tent and Erik
would not be the gentleman by sleeping outside in his sleeping bag.
�You can�t expect me to sleep outside on my own in that thing. I might get
kidnapped.�

He let out a breath of disbelief. �What is it with you and kidnapping? Is it your
secret fantasy? To be kidnapped?�

I stomped my foot on the ground. �Stop jesting around. Think!�

He placed one hand on his hip and started counting with the other. �You don�t want
to sleep outside; I don�t want to sleep outside. You don�t want to sleep inside the
tent while I sleep inside the truck. You don�t want to sleep inside the truck while
I sleep in the tent. That leaves us with one solution and I guess you already
figured that out.�

I groaned. �Erik, the tent is too small for the both of us.�

�We should have discussed this earlier,� he said in frustration. �Look,� he looked
at me, his face trying to be patient. �I am very tired. I don�t want to remind you
that I carried you around my back for almost an hour earlier, but that�s true. I am
tired and sleepy and you are not making this easier.�

�Fine,� I said, trying to hide the pouting of my lips. �I�ll go in first,� I

declared and rushed to the small entrance of the tent. He followed close behind.
The size was just right for the both of us.

�Do you want the sleeping bag?� he asked.

I shook my head. �You use it.�

What he did was make a long pillow out of it for us to share. Pretty good idea on
his part, I thought. He zipped the door close as I lay on my back, trying to find a
comfortable position.

�I have never gone camping before,� I said aloud to keep my mind away from his
scent. It was all over the tent and it was seriously distracting.

�I already figured that out,� he said, grunting as he followed me down on the

ground, placing his hands below his head.

�Why do you like it?�

�What? Camping?�

�Yes.�

�I get to see a lot of places, experience the extreme. It�s the long hike that
makes the camping experience great, you know. You get to rest after a long day of
walking, slipping and cursing elements. And of course, you get to be with the best
company of people,� he answered, leaning his head toward me. I did not dare look at
him and kept my eyes on the little dome ceiling of the tent. I was starting to feel
tired now.

�What kind of people?� I couldn�t help but ask. I wanted to know more about the
people he went camping with, the people he had adventures with.

�Friends, family�anyone willing to take the risk.�

When I felt sleep creeping up, I closed my eyes and turned to him with my hand
under my cheek. �Is it nice? Taking risks?�

I felt his arm close around me, pulling me toward his warmth. I didn�t have enough
energy to push him away. He offered a great kind of comfort the tent couldn�t
offer. �Yes,� his breath answered above my head and I went to sleep.

Chapter 23

�Could we make it?� I asked as I frowned against the heat of the sun. Erik had just
managed to find the problem and got the engine running.

�Yes. But I don�t want to risk taking it to Don Salvador without having it checked
first.�

I raised an eyebrow. �Of course you should have it checked. It broke down on us
many times.�

�Hey, careful with your words. My truck�s sensitive.�

I scoffed. �It serves him right to drop dead on us without warning.� I went
straight to the passenger seat but Erik decided he better look into the whole thing
under the hood a little longer. Not knowing what to do, I kept my hand away from my
phone. I only had two bars of battery left and I wanted to save the remaining of
its energy for whatever mishap the truck would bring us later.

Just like every time I was out of little activities, I grabbed Wawa�s diary and
started reading. I always liked to read about Antonio and he would take my
grandmother to places she had never been. Mostly, they happened within Bacolod. But
my hands and my eyes led me to the very pages I was not very fond of: the
aftermath. How did she manage to live after the death of her daughter and with her
dying husband in the hospital? How did she survive? These questions, along with
their possible answers, were what kept me from reading the rest of the diary. I
didn�t want to witness more of her heartaches. She was no longer there for me to
comfort and that thought brought a lot of regret on my part.

But I was proven wrong.

My grandmother was indeed stronger than I thought.

I went to church every day. At first I was angry. I demanded from God answers. Why
did he take two of my daughters away? Why is He making Ramon suffer? Will He take
him away from me too? Ramon has been in the hospital and I am getting physically
tired. But I have to be strong for both of us�So I asked Him for strength to make
it through one step at a time, one day after another.

When Erik climbed behind the wheel, I closed the diary and quickly brushed away a
tear. I knew he saw me but he chose to leave me alone. Good thinking on his part
because I was not ready to fall back in his arms and wail for my grandmother�s
pain.

We arrived in Bacolod just in time for dinner. Erik said it was time for me to get
a taste of Bacolod�s best: Chicken Inasal.

I thought at first that Bacolodnons were just exaggerating the taste of their
chicken barbecue. How could it taste any different from the ones I had in Makati?
Surely the expensive cuisine I experienced could prove them wrong. But that was not
the case.

Finally, slowly and a little bit unwillingly, I had to admit that Bacolod indeed
has the best chicken barbecue in the country. There was something in them that
keeps your taste buds ask for more.

�Pour this over your rice,� Erik said, handing over a container of what appeared to
be a yellow, oily liquid. �This is just chicken oil,� he explained when he saw my
pained reaction. His hand was already stained with the oil after mixing it with his
rice. He poured a decent amount on my rice and added, �and don�t think to ask for
utensils. In case you looked around, people here don�t use them.�

I had wondered why the server did not even bother bringing us the very utensils I
so missed. I looked around and moaned. People of all ages and status were eating
their inasal with bare hands.

�Do you want to puncture someone with that?� Erik asked as I picked up the barbecue
stick.

�What now?� I whined.

He reached across the table and took my food from my hand. He pushed the chicken
thigh out of the stick and said, �Now, eat,� he said, setting aside the stick on
the table.

Though the chicken was great, like really great, I had to be challenged once again.
I had to eat chicken butt. �Why? Why are you doing this to me?� I asked, feigning a
cry.

He chuckled. �Just try it. It�s called isol.�

�Erik�� I half-cried, half-laughed as he fed himself with one, closing his eyes
like he was having a piece of heaven himself.

�Just try it,� he urged.

The isol, which turned out great, was followed by another: the intestine. I had
tried it before back in Makati so I did not make such a big drama about it.

When we had our fill, we washed our hands at the washing station and drove home.

�Tomorrow�s Sunday. Would you like to go to Church?� he asked as we waited for

Manang June to open the gates.

�Of course,� I said without second thoughts.

The next day, I woke up and found out that Erik had gone to take the truck to be
serviced.

�Should we take the van?� I asked later when he arrived without it.

He shook his head. �The San Sebastian Cathedral is just across the Bacolod Plaza,
Steph. It�s Masskara season, remember? We will never find a single parking lot.�

�Then we get a taxi?�

He stared at me dryly. �No. Taxis are not accessible in this area. We ride a
tricyle to the main road and then take a jeepney.�

�Hija, taxis don�t come here to find passengers,� Manang June explained.

�Then we call for one.�

�We�ll have to wait for a long time,� Erik explained. �Go get ready. It�s not like
you haven�t ridden a tricycle before.�

I didn�t want to appear like a whiny brat so I did as he told and dressed for
church. Manang June had washed my dresses and I decided to wear one with my flats.

�Change that,� Erik said even before I reached the bottom of the stairs.

�Why? What�s wrong with this?� I asked, looking down at my dress. It was one of the
decent ones I had and I wanted to wear it after being underdressed for days.
�People wear dresses in church.�

He leaned back against the couch. �We will be riding on a tricycle and then the
jeepney. Just change.�

�Ugh!� I cried in frustration as I whirled around and climbed back up the stairs.
�You are worse than my dad!�

A while later, dressed in a simple black shirt and a pair of white pants, we walked
out of the gates and waited for a tricycle. It was just a three-minute ride to the
main road where we managed to hail a jeepney.

I had to be honest. It was my first time riding a jeepney. I never had the chance
to ride one back in Makati because for one, my father had always driven me to
school until I had my own car. Two, I had the impression that jeepneys or any other
public transport were dangerous.

Erik was laughing at me with his eyes when I just looked at the lady who was
handing out her hand for me. I looked at him with curiosity. He shook his head and
took the coins from the lady and handed them over to the driver.

It was the first time I felt I was totally stupid. How could I not have understood?

The ride though was fun. I got to witness the etiquette of riding a jeepney. I
learned that you have to say �please� whenever you ask other passengers to hand
over your fare to the driver and then follow it with a �thank you� when the act is
done. I also found it fascinating how people would scoot near the end of the
vehicle whenever a new passenger would climb it. That way, they would not be far
from the exit when it was time for them to get out. But there were a few
exceptions. For instance, if the passenger is an elderly, people will almost always
immediately scoot to give the new passenger easy access to the seat so they will
not have to bend down to their waist and walk all the way to the front.

Erik had to constantly pull me nearer to the exit because I would usually scoot to
the wrong direction. It was after a lot of scooting and sliding along the long
cushioned bench of the jeepney that I realized pants are the best clothing for such
a ride.

The San Sebastian Cathedral is your typical old, stone church. It screamed of
history. Since people were still enjoying the remnants of the Masskara festival,
balloons and colorful masks were still everywhere. Children were down on their
knees, begging for popcorns or balloons being sold just outside the gates of the
Cathedral.

The mass was still going on so Erik and I decided to wait for the next one. We
spent a few quiet moments inside the praying room and when we got out, we were met
by a familiar face.

�Erik!� the old man in white polo shirt and black slacks greeted us. �And
Stephanie, right?�

I nodded my head slowly. I was still trying to remember where I had seen him.

�She doesn�t have a good memory,� Erik said when I did not say a word. I pushed him
away from me, intending to put him down the ground for giving me away. �Steph, do
you remember Father Guevarra?�

My eyes lit up immediately. �Yes! From Wawa�s funeral! How are you, Father?�

The man chuckled and gently patted my arm. �I am good. You are here for the mass?�

�Yes,� Erik answered. �This lady here needs a lot of atonement for her sins. She�s
been a pain for the past few weeks.�

�No, I wasn�t! You were!� I said defiantly, punching him lightly on the arm.

Father Guevarra nodded with laughter in his eyes. His head turned to me and I had
to look into those gentle eyes of his, one you would not often encounter. He had
those eyes that seem to know almost everything about you. As much as I wanted to
look away, I couldn�t. Those globes had that hold as well. �How have you been,
Steph?�

I knew he was asking how I was holding up. �I�m good, I guess,� I said, turning to
Erik for help. I was not good with this kind of encounter. It is one thing to give
sympathy; it is another to receive one.

Father Guevarra nodded. I knew he was a good friend of my grandmother and he was
probably aware that I never got the chance to actually be with her when she was
alive. �Would you care to share a walk with me for a while?� He asked.

�Like a confession?� I asked, trying to make light of the moment.

He laughed. �If you want,� he shrugged.

Erik�s gaze was already pushing me to make the walk so I agreed, leaving Erik to
sit on a bench beside a big bell to wait for me.

There were not a lot of grounds for us to actually walk around, but there was a
quiet place at the side of the church, the Bishop�s Palace. There, we walked near a
bench where a large fountain was quietly standing.

�So, you are friends with my grandmother,� I said, breaking the awkward silence.

Father Guevarra smiled at me, his hand at his back. �You must be wondering why I
asked to talk to you alone,� he began.

I actually thought we�ll just be walking, I answered in my mind. �You wanted to

know how I am holding up,� I said instead.
�That, and something else.�

I frowned. �What is it?�

He motioned his hand for me to sit when we reached the bench. I did, but he didn�t.
He remained standing, a good meter away from me. �I just want you to know that your
grandmother loved you in her own secret way.�

�I already figured that out. She used to talk to my yaya about me.�

He smiled. �You were all she would talk about whenever she went for a visit, you
know that?�

I shook my head.

�She would tell me how you started walking, started at your first school, pretty
much everything that happened to you.�

�It�s funny, isn�t it? She was telling a story she just heard from someone.� I
didn�t mean it to sound bitter, but I guess that was how Father Guevarra understood
it.

�I can�t blame you for feeling that way. Cora had her own reasons why she never
approached you when you were young and I guess she could have reached out for you
when she was ready but fear kept her from doing that.�

I wanted to tell him I understood; that I knew why my grandmother never made it to
my mother�s funeral and why she never had the courage to come see me after that.
But I kept my mouth shut.

Father Guevarra looked at me with tenderness. �Your grandmother had suffered in

love, Stephanie. She once loved a man who broke her heart. And then she found
happiness in the arms of another. And then your mother and your aunt happened. She
lost one of them and drove the other away. And then she had you. But I guess she
felt she lost everything at the same time when your mother passed away and Ramon
fell ill.�

Hearing my grandmother�s story from him was a totally different feeling compared to
reading it in her diary. Tears started to pool my eyes.

�Your grandmother suffered in love, Stephanie, but don�t think she loved those
around her less because of that. Just because she didn�t get the love she wanted
doesn�t mean she had to stop loving. Her only fault was that she kept the love she
had for you to herself.�

I sniffed, letting the tears flow now. I understood his words--every one of them.
They were the ones my head had been trying to run around for the past few days but
couldn�t form properly. Now, hearing them exactly from Father Guevarra, I had the
sudden urge to hug my grandmother, wherever she was, and tell her everything was
okay. That she did good.

�It is one thing to know you love someone and it is another to tell the person that
you do,� Father Guevarra finished, his eyes no longer staring at me but at Erik who
was sitting under that gigantic bell far away from us. I followed his gaze.

�You�re playing cupid, Father,� I said with a laugh.

He chuckled. �Your grandmother taught those words, you know. I know she�s probably
cursing me to damnation now that I told her granddaughter she made a mistake.� His
motioned his head to where Erik was, �Have you told him?�

I feigned ignorance. �What are you talking about?�

Instead of prodding, he shrugged and started walking away from me and back to the
direction of the church. I followed him and he said, �I guess you will figure it
out on your own. But I hope, unlike Cora, it will be sooner.�

Chapter 24

�I was actually surprised that you decided to stay,� Father Guevarra uttered beside
me as we walked to where Erik was.

�I felt that it is the only thing I can do for her. Get a feel of her by getting to
know this place,� I said slowly, still recovering from my little drama. I dried the
tears from my cheeks. I didn�t want Erik to see any traces of them. He�d witnessed
enough from me for the past few weeks.

�I am sure that she will be glad you took the time, despite everything,� Father
Guevarra said, resting his hand over my shoulder. It was a light, warm touch
considering his large size.

Erik was already on his feet as we neared. I was afraid the priest would say
something about Erik again but I was glad he kept his silence.

�I was hoping you�ll take more time to confess all your sins,� Erik leered, looking
at me, �Are you sure you said it all?�

I just rolled my eyes at him and turned to Father Guevarra. �Thank you, Father. I
will see you before I leave Bacolod,� I told him and hesitantly gave him a hug.

�I�ll be here,� he answered and turned to Erik. �Take care of her, young man.�

�I will,� Erik said, holding up his hand to give a salute.

The mass was quite hard for me since it was in Hiligaynon. Though I knew pretty
much of the common words, it was hard to comprehend the deeper, older ones. Even
Erik had trouble following the sermon to interpret some of the phrases for me.

�Just admit it. You found it hard as well!� I said when we walked out and crossed
the street to buy bibingka, a version of rice cake with coconut shreds mixed in it.

His response was cut off by a sudden wail of the child in front of us. He was
pointing at the balloons held by the vendor just a few paces away.

�You lost yours just a while ago. I don�t have more money to buy you another one,�
his mother said, trying to calm him.

�Balloons!� he continued to cry.

�Wait here a sec,� Erik told me and I watched him walk to the balloon vendor. A
while later he was walking to the kid with two balloons. He bent down and gave one
to the child.

�No, he�s had one and he lost it,� the mother said. �He should learn his lesson.�
�Why don�t we make an exemption just this once? It�s a Sunday, anyway,� Erik told
her.

�Thank you,� she said and left with the child jumping up and down, enjoying his
blue balloon.

�That was nice of you,� I told him.

�I just needed a reason to buy one for you,� he said as he handed me the other
balloon. I looked up at the pink globe and smiled.

�Why, thank you,� I couldn�t help it. It was the first time that someone gave me a
balloon. Well, other than my father.

Back in the house, I deflated the balloon and kept it hidden inside my bag. I was
never sentimental that way, but I just had to keep it.

When I bounded down the staircase, Erik was busy with something outside.

�What is he doing?� I asked Manang June.

She turned to me with a tray in hand. �Give this to him. He suddenly decided he
wants to do a barbecue party.�

I frowned down at the marinated meat neatly arranged in barbecue sticks. �Whatever
got into him?� I asked aloud as I walked out to the lawn where Erik was busy
building fire.

�Stay away, the fire�s cracking,� he cautioned. I stopped and placed the tray on
the table of the garden set and settled in one of the chairs.

I watched him spread the burning coals and prepared the grill. He was good at
almost anything except maintaining the condition of his freaking truck.

Manang June joined us a few minutes later and Erik filled her in with the details
of our trip to Mambukal. The lady laughed when Erik narrated how I almost cried on
the way to the seventh waterfall and he had to carry me on his back.

Though I would love to smack him for embarrassing me, I was too busy thinking about
what Father Guevarra said earlier. Should I follow his advice? But I was not even
sure how I felt.

I looked at Erik and he winked at me, continuing his tale with a laugh.

Manang June left us an hour later after she had her fill. Erik and I were holding
our glass of wine, sitting around the garden set and looking up the sky.

�Was it hard?� I asked.

He turned to me, his eyes full of question. �What was hard?�

I looked away from the stars and into his glimmering ones. �Getting over her.�

I saw him take a deep breath and for a few seconds, he appeared to be considering
whether or not to tell me about Gela. �Yes,� he finally uttered.
I raised an eyebrow. �Really?�

�Hey, in case you don�t know, I was about ready to say �I do� when she decided not
to show up.� It was amazing how he managed to say those words without his voice
breaking.

�I just don�t think it is that hard, you know,� I uttered in defense. �I mean, you
can just cry over it and then get back on your feet and find another girl.�

�It is that easy if you are talking about an intense infatuation, Steph,� he
stated, his voice serious. He looked down at his glass of wine before he turned his
gaze to me and added, �Getting over love is a completely, complicated, nasty task.�

Was that how my grandmother felt as well? Was it really that hard? �Is that the
reason why you spent most of your time in your farm?� I asked.

He smiled at me. �Manong Danny has told you a lot of things, didn�t he?�

I shrugged. �Maybe.�

Erik chuckled for a moment and gulped his wine. When I thought he would not answer
my question, he said, �Yes, it was the reason why I had to escape. I just knew from
that moment that I had to go back to the farm and heal the wounds. I did it once
and I could do it again, I thought.�

�It was your second heartbreak?� I asked, surprised.

�No, but it was not the first time I had to heal.� The look on my face must be very
transparent because he leaned back and looked at me hard. I sensed then that I was
finally going to learn more about the real Erik, the Erik of the past. �Years ago,
I was pretty much the usual guy. I worked hard and partied harder. And I began
using drugs.� My sharp intake of breath was audible enough but he continued, �I got
too hooked that I had to be rushed to the hospital a couple of times. The last
time, it was serious and my parents decided they had to let me go and let me learn
my lesson. I knew I had to get over it, you know. But I was too stubborn. I told
everyone that I was fine. Rock even begged me to let her help but I said no. Deep
down inside, I knew I was down the damned road. It went on like that for years
until I met her, Gela.�

Ah, so she was the savior, I thought.

�But she wouldn�t have me. I had to prove myself, I thought. I had to make her see
that I could change.� Erik looked at me with those dark eyes and smiled. �That was
then that I decided I had to heal myself. It was a hard process, but I learned a
lot. I was gone for months and when I got back, everything just fell into place,
including her.�

Until she broke your heart, I thought. �It�s a good thing you did not go back to
your old ways when she left you,� I uttered.

His eyes were serious when he answered, �I did not do it entirely for her. I did it
for myself. She was just the push I needed to start the process. Why would I go
back to my old life when I knew I had found more to live for? Love does not always
have to be the reason why we should fall, you know. Losing someone you love is like
walking down the street and have your bag snatched out of your shoulder by a
snatcher riding a motorcycle. Your first instinct is to hold on and pull, thinking
of the important things inside the bag that you have worked hard for.� His gaze was
intense as he looked at me. And then he continued, �You will be left with two
choices: to hold on and be dragged down the street, or to let go. The former will
leave you hurt and scratched or worse. The latter will leave you with nothing but
the longing for your bag and everything in it. But then you will be safe with a
chance to find a better bag and more things to fill it with.� He took a few seconds
to sip from his glass. �I think it is about making the choice. But make sure that
when you do, you have to cope with the consequences. I did make a choice and dealt
with the consequences. In the end, it worked out just fine.�

�Amen,� I said, tipping my glass at him.

�Shut up,� he grinned as he finished his wine.

We left late the following day because Erik�s truck was not available until after
lunch. As usual, Manang June prepared something for the road before we left.

I was enjoying the ride along the mountainside when my favorite song started on the
radio.

�Oh! I love this song!� I cried, reaching over to increase the volume.

Our Kind of Love was one of the songs that had always made me want to sing along.

It actually surprised me when Erik started the duet. �Why do you always have to
know every song out there?� I demanded as he sang, �You wear your smile like a
summer sky just shining down on me and you�I swear your heart is a, a free bird on
a lazy Sunday afternoon,�

He did not answer. Instead, he pointed at me with one finger as he danced with his
head, indicating it was my turn.

I laughingly sang my part, �I love the way that you were up for anything; Never
worried �bout what people say, that�s right,� and I pointed my fingers at him for
his turn.

�Oh, that�s right, what we got is,� he sang and I laughed against the wind, my hair
blowing across my face.

And then we looked at each other, anticipating the chorus and broke out, �Just like
driving on an open highway; Never knowing what we�re gonna find. Just like two
kids, baby, always trying to live it up.

�Whoa, yeah, that�s our kind of love,� he finished and we fell in comfortable
silence, listening to the rest of the song. It was strange yet fascinating how I
found it comfortable to sing with him. He has the kind of energy desperate singers
have and it was amusing. Believe me when I say he doesn�t have a great voice. He
just loves singing and that�s for certain.

Don Salvador was a little town in one of the mountainous areas of Negros. We
travelled through concrete road (thank God for that) at the side of the mountain.
At first it was nauseating to be travelling too close to the edge of the hills, but
I got used to it. Erik gave me bubble gums to chew on to help my ears adjust to the
air pressure of the mountain.

The scenes we passed by were getting familiar to me. They were almost the same
thing I saw during our trip to Dumaguete and Mambukal. And then I saw little rice
terraces which was pretty cool. From time to time, the smell of carabao dung would
mix with the fresh air of the mountain and we would have to close our windows. We
stopped at a viewing deck owned by one of Erik�s friends. His friend was not there
but we were welcomed by the caretaker to spend some time taking in the view of the
mountains across the one we were on. When the sun had began to set and darkness was
about to fall, we decided to get back on the road and straight to Erik�s farm.

If you think his farm house is exactly like that of his parents�, then you are up
for a big disappointment. I know I was the moment he stopped the truck outside a
modest two-storey house made of wood.

And I would be staying there for a week. How could I survive? I had to check the
bathroom, I thought.

�You didn�t expect this, did you?� he asked with a wicked grin before he climbed
out.

I followed and when my feet stepped on the sticky ground, I was thankful I wore my
slippers. I looked around. It was dark so I was not sure how vast the land was, but
I was pretty certain Erik could have erected a far bigger house, something that
shouted, �I have tiled bathrooms inside!�. But it seemed that Erik could sleep
anywhere because he did not make a big effort on the house. It shouted �rugged� all
over.

�You were expecting something like the one in Bago?� he asked.

I groaned inwardly, picturing the comfortable house of his parents. There were
three wooden steps that led to the veranda where the front door was located. A
narrow, long table was situated at the corner of the balcony, to the left of the
door. As Erik opened the door with his keys, I prayed that when sunlight graced the
place tomorrow, everything would look better.

�Do you even have concrete here?� I asked when the door finally showed me the
interior of the house. Everything was wooden. The floor was made of bamboo tightly
arranged side by side. Yes, I have to admit, it was cool. The small gaps between
each bamboo trunk offered natural ventilation. They could also serve as freaking
massages because of their humps.

But I didn�t totally dislike the place. It had its charms. The woods complimented
the farm and the ventilation was great. There were cushions and large throw pillows
for the hardwood seats in the living room. I was more worried about the bathroom. I
didn�t like the one I used in Bago after I drank that buko juice in the rice
fields. The one Manang Rita, the fortune teller, had in her place was not a good
experience either. No one could really blame me. I have this obsession over clean
bathrooms. I needed something dry, tiled, walls meeting the ceiling, and something
with a shower.

At the back of the ground floor, just beyond the living room was the dining and the
kitchen. I looked to the left. There was a small corner with two bookshelves full
of books. I frowned and walked to them, my eyes scanning the thick hardbound books.
�These are engineering books,� I commented.

�Yeah, they are mine.�

I sharply turned to face him and when I did, he was looking at me curiously. �What?
�

�You�re an engineer?�
�I used to be,� he corrected. �Where do you think I got the money for this farm?�

�Your parents?�

He chuckled. �They are not as generous as you think. Like your Wawa, they want me
to strive for what I want. They did give me enough to buy a larger land though.�

Slowly, I nodded and looked back at the books. �Electrical?�

�Yep,� he said, putting down my suitcase. �You must be tired. Let�s go to your
room.�

It was only then that I realized no one else was with us in the house. �You don�t
have a caretaker?�

�He only comes here once a week to clean. What? Don�t tell me you�re afraid you�ll
do something to me?� he asked, his eyebrows teasing me up and down.

�Ha! You must be dreaming!� I answered, grabbed my mustard suitcase, and started
for the stairs near the kitchen. I had to carry it all the way because it jumped up
and down against the humped bamboo floor.

When we reached the second storey of the house, I was greeted with an open veranda.
I frowned. �Where�s the bedroom?�

�Here,� he said, walking past me. The bedrooms, it turned out, were lined parallel
to the veranda, the doors facing the open balcony.

�You are not afraid of burglars? They can easily climb up here and your bedroom
doors are like saying, �Welcome! Come in!�� I asked in disbelief. How could he
expect me to sleep soundly inside my room for a week knowing anyone could just
climb up the veranda?

Erik shook his head and laughed at my remark. �The locks are good enough, Steph,
don�t worry.�

When my mouth fell open in horror, he laughed.

�Hey, I�m joking. There�s nothing to be afraid of. I have trusted people living in
the area. There�s nothing to be worried about. Everyone knows me here.�

�But they don�t know me,� I insisted.

�Are you going the route of kidnapping again? Because it is getting really alarming
how you fantasize about kidnapping.�

�Fine! Fine! Where�s my room?� I demanded, looking left and right. The right side
of the veranda had two doors and the left side had one.

�Here,� he said, walking over to the right. We stopped right at the first door
which he opened saying, �the second one is mine in case you decide to do
something.�

�Shut up,� I said, pushing my way inside and relief flooded me when I saw a bed. It
was not as I would want a bed to be, but it was good enough. At least it had
cushion despite how thin it was. �Where�s the bathroom?� I asked.

He pointed to the left and I smiled. �It�s connected to mine,� Erik said and my
smile faded.

�What?�

�Hey, I only placed one bathroom up here. And I am usually the only one using it.
I�m just sharing it with you. You can use the one below if you want.�

�Okay, fine,� I groaned and walked further to the bed. The cushion was not as thick
as I wanted, but it would do.

�Good night then,� Erik said, leaving me in the darkness of the room.

�Wait!� I cried before I could stop myself.

He turned his head over his shoulder, his brows raised in question.

�Uhh�can you turn on the lights?�

�Just for tonight,� he agreed and went out the door. �Good night, Steph,� he said
before closing it behind him.

Chapter 25

�Erik!� I said, knocking on the door of the bathroom that led to his room. �Erik!�
I was up early because I found it hard to sleep on the bed with its thin cushion.

�What?� I heard him say, his voice croaky. I must have waked him up.

�There�s no shower. I want to take a bath,� I said, looking up the ceiling

impatiently. And then I looked away when a big spider appeared. I was starting to
hate this bathroom!

I heard him say something but the door was making it difficult.

�What did you say? I need to take a shower now. Do you have a pump or something?� I
followed it with a series of knocks.

I almost fell back against the opposite wall when the door suddenly burst open,
revealing him in just his boxers. I had seen him half-naked but it didn�t mean the
effects were the same. Erik in his bedroom look with just that thin fabric was a
sight. And then I remembered I didn�t have anything underneath my thin, white shirt
and I gasped, covering my chest with my arm. �What the hell! Get away!� I crossed
the distance between us, pushed him further into his room and slammed the door.
�Now, the shower?� I said, hearing his chuckle.

�It�s broken. Use the faucet. There�s these things we call buckets and tabo, in
case you forgot.�

I groaned.

�Get used to it,� he said and I heard his muffled footsteps walking away.

The bathroom was okay. It was tiled and the water was running. But there was no
shower. I walked to the faucet and found a bucket with a tabo in it. Turning the
faucet on, I sat on the toilet and watched the bucket slowly fill.

When I emerged out of the bathroom, I smelled masculine. I was not able to bring my
own shampoo and soap and I had to settle with the ones Erik had in his bathroom.

�You know, there�s something sexy about women smelling like men,� Erik said when I
joined him downstairs in the veranda.

�Shut up,� I said, sprinkling the water I had wrung out of my wet hair at him.

�Have some coffee. It might just set you in the mood,� he offered, pouring me a
cup.

�Good thing you have a coffeemaker,� I mumbled before taking the bamboo seat right
next to him. We sat there facing the front of the house, overlooking the rice
fields and the little islands of large trees in the distance.

As I had thought, the place looked better with sunlight. The vast land surrounding
us was almost covered in mist, giving me a sense of something new and fresh. I
could almost smell the morning dew as they vaporized under the gentle heat of the
sun. I saw people starting to come out, some of them pulling carabaos to the
fields. Others had some kind of sprinklers attached to their backs. It was a pretty
sight. Add the strong smell of freshly brewed coffee that Erik prepared and it was
nearly perfect, except the shower upstairs.

But I noticed something change. Some of the workers started coming to the direction
of the house.

�Are you having a meeting or something?� I asked as the workers neared us with
smiles on their faces.

�No, this is just the usual day we have before work starts,� Erik answered, leaning
back against his chair with a smile. �They come here every morning to have coffee
with me. It�s like a tradition.�

I started to feel uncomfortable. I had never been around that many workers. Yes, I
had met one or two when we were in Bago, but this was different. I started counting
the heads of the men and women coming to the house. God, really? Eleven? Eleven
were more than what I could handle.

I was just about to excuse myself and pick up my coffee to drink somewhere alone
when Erik said, �I�ll introduce you to them.�

�It�s not necessary,� I answered under my breath.

�They will love to meet you.� Before I could say no, he stood up and greeted
everyone with a smile. I was immediately forced to shake hands and even wave at the
two boys and the little girl who appeared out of nowhere.

After enduring almost an hour of farm talk and stories about people I had never
met, the workers picked up their cups and walked back to their own houses a good
distance away. They all spent some time saying they were glad to meet me and I had
to say the same. I was faced another problem when Erik left to clean up, leaving me
with the three kids who just couldn�t stop looking at me.

�She�s pretty,� I heard the taller of the boys whisper.

�Because she�s a girl,� said the other. �But yeah, she�s pretty. Not like you,� he
added, addressing the little girl with long hair.

�I am not a girl!� she insisted, stomping her foot.

Okay, I knew a fight was about to happen. What do I do? Maybe Erik could handle
this.

�You are a girl!� the two boys uttered in unison. �You don�t just look like it!�

�Hey,� I finally said, stopping the girl�s attempt to attack her two enemies. �Stop
fighting. It�s so early in the morning to do that.� I tried to sound authoritative
but it only made them look at me with fear. I smiled and said to the girl, �Don�t
believe them. You are pretty.�

She frowned. �Pretty is a word to describe a girl. I am not a girl.�

�What�s your name then?� I asked.

�I�m Didoi.�

�No, she�s Girlie,� answered the taller boy. �And I am Jay-r. This is Jojo,� he
said, pointing at the other boy.

�You�re siblings? All of you?�

�No!� they answered as if I made a stupid joke. �We�re friends.�

�How about you, Girlie? You�re friends with them as well?� I asked.

�People call me Didoi. I don�t know Girlie,� she insisted.

�Okay, Didoi, whatever you want. Don�t you have school?�

�It�s too early to go to school,� Jojo answered.

Erik appeared in the doorway and smiled. �I see you�re making friends with these
three. Be careful.�

The kids laughed and pushed each other around until they felt they had to go. I
waved them goodbye, laughing at Didoi�s remark about being a boy as they ran.

�Why do I have to be careful around them?� I asked Erik as he settled back in his
chair.

�You�ll see,� his eyes were sparkling with mystery.

�Oh, I almost forgot,� I said, jumping to my feet. I took out the envelop I had
prepared back in Bacolod out of my pocket and handed it to him.

He frowned. �What�s this?�

�I said I am going to pay you for driving me around, right? Here it is,� I pushed
the white envelop toward him.

His frowned deepened. �I didn�t say I am going to accept your payment.�

I looked at him pointedly. �Just take it,� I said, getting impatient. Something
snapped in me when I saw his insulted look. �Hey, we started this thing with you
asking how I am going to pay and me saying I will do it handsomely.�

�It doesn�t always have to be about money,� he bit out, his smile long gone.

�Just take it, Erik. Don�t make a big deal out of this.�
�I just might,� he said, standing up without touching the envelop, �but I don�t
really care much about cash.�

�Do you think I care for money that much then? Why do you always have to judge me?�

�I�m not. I�m just trying to make a point.�

�Why do you have to make this hard for me? I am not doing anything wrong! I am
doing my part here and you are judging me again!�

�Why does everything have to be about you?�

�What? Are you saying I am self-centered?�

�I didn�t say that, you did.�

�You were pretty close to saying it!� This time, I was on my feet, glaring at him,
my hands balled in a fist.

He gave a frustrated, heavy sigh. �You always have to turn things back to your
direction, don�t you? Not everything I, or anybody else, says is intended for you.
Stop thinking that everything revolves around you.� He started to turn away and
before he walked back inside the house, he added, �I had my reasons for
accompanying you in this journey, Steph. And I assure you it is not about the
money. I don�t want to see that envelop again.�

I didn�t know what got into us that morning. I didn�t even think he would really
get angry. We had always bantered since the moment we met but I never thought he
was that sensitive when it came to money.

Should I say sorry?

But why? I didn�t do anything wrong!

It was true. I believed I didn�t do anything wrong. I really thought he agreed for
me to pay him money for his service. Okay, I admit I should not have reacted
dramatically when he gave that comment about me being self-centered. But he also
went overboard overly reacting to my simple gesture of paying.

He never uttered a word at my direction as we ate our lunch. Of course he prepared

it and I was glad he did not forget to make a meal for two. The only words I got
from him were, �It�s time to eat,� which I obliged willingly and hungrily. When he
was done, he left the table saying, �Please wash the dishes.�

It was weird how he acted angry. I never took him for someone who would hold a
grudge that long. It was supposed to be me who would be doing the bratty attitude,
not him.

�I�m going out,� he said a while later. I was just done with the dishes. He had
changed into his cargo shorts, his working shoes and a white shirt.

�Where are you going?� I realized it was the first statement I said to him since
our stupid fight.

�The fields. You can roam around the area but don�t go too far,� and just like
that, he put on his baseball cap and walked out. What the hell was with him? The
silent, angry Erik was not a nice experience, I tell you.

I decided I should call my managers when I realized I was not brave enough to
wander around the area alone. I walked out into the veranda and searched for a
signal. I got one bar after I climbed on the table. Great. Changing my mind, I
forgot about my managers and just sat there doing nothing, looking at the distance
where workers were busy bending over their works.

And then I saw the three of them again, each with their backpacks, walking toward
me.

�School�s over?� I asked them. It was good to be able to talk after an hour of
silence.

Didoi nodded. �We are going to play. You want to come along?�

�What kind of play?� I asked.

�Anything,� Jay-r answered.

�Let�s go!� Jojo added, rushing me with his hand.

I hesitated for a while before standing up. �Just for a sec,� I said, going for the
door. I locked it and turned to the kids. �Okay, I�m ready.�

Erik could go to hell if he returned and found out I was not there. It would serve
him right.

I followed the kids across one of the fields. I was proud of myself back then. My
cheap slippers made my decision to walk along the cajon boldly easy. We reached a
small island of trees but this time, there were no workers taking a rest. Most of
them were out in the fields pulling carabaos and sprinkling fertilizers.

�What are we going to play?� I asked the children, my hands on my hips. I couldn�t
find any toys or materials that would indicate the kind of game we were about to
do.

�We�re going to climb trees!� Didoi said, already making her way up on a big mango
tree.

�What?� I cried incredulously. �That�s no play!�

�Of course it is!� Jojo answered with a laugh. �Let�s see who gets to pick more
mangoes!�

Jay-r shouted from another mango tree, �Come on!�

I looked up at Didoi. God, she was really like a boy climbing up that tree! �I
don�t know how to climb a tree!� I shouted at them.

Their laughter almost sounded like, �weakling!� in my ears and my face flushed. I
had never, not once in my life, felt humiliated in front of kids. I had always
thought that I was much experienced whenever I was around anyone under the age of
twenty. But that moment, as I looked at the three of them on those trees picking
mangoes, I felt that I had to prove myself.

�Fine! I can do it!� I shouted and they all stopped on wherever branch they were
sitting or standing on to look at me. I found a smaller mango tree that seemed
easier to climb on.
�Just find the perfect spot to put your foot on,� Didoi cried out, followed with a
giggle.

�Yeah, right,� I said, scanning the big trunk.

�Hug the trunk!� Jojo shouted.

�Jump to lift off the ground!� Jay-r followed.

�That�s it! It will get easier!� Didoi cried in encouragement.

She was right. The moment I reached the nearest branch and climbed on it, the rest
of the way was easier. My slipper slipped off my foot and I almost cried out when
my attempt to rescue it failed.

�Just get rid of your slippers!� Didoi said.

I shook the other one off and it landed close to the first one in no time. I
searched the branches, peeking through the leaves. �Let�s get this game on!� I
shouted with a triumphant smile. I saw a bundle of mango fruits just a few meters
away and I slowly walked toward it, holding on for dear life while praying that the
branch wouldn�t break.

The kids� laughter rang out as they tried to distract each other by throwing small
mangoes at the other. They were kind enough not to bother me because I was having
trouble trying to balance myself as it was. I did not dare go higher though it was
clear that I was losing the game. There were more fruits up there but I was not
stupid enough to climb more branches.

A few minutes later, I had picked the smallest of the fruits and threw it down the
ground where the rest of my harvest was. I brushed my hands against my shirt and I
shouted, �Okay! I think I have to go down now!�

The kids were already on the ground, counting their mangoes. They looked at me and
waved me down.

That was when I realized the climb up the tree was easier than the climb down. I
grimaced. �Can you get me a ladder or something?�

Didoi was frowning. �You can�t climb down?�

And there it was again. They were looking at me like I was the weirdest creature
they had ever encountered.

�It�s difficult,� I said in admission. �I can�t climb down.�

They laughed at me and then they ran away.

Yeah, just like that, they left me on that tree, trapped and tired. �Hey! Come back
here!� I cried out for them but they continued running along the cajon. Was this
what Erik had warned me about the kids?

I looked back down on the ground.

Shit. How do I get down?!

Chapter 26

I did numerous attempts to jump down but it was too high for me. And I did two or
three attempts to find any dent I could step on to go down, but I was just afraid.
Really, I did try. And I was almost at the brink of tears when I saw the children
running back to where I was, their faces laughing.

�Where�s the ladder?� I asked myself when I realized they might have gone back to
help me.

My hopeful face fell when I saw the ladder and it was a man walking with purposeful
steps toward the tree I was on. Erik took off his baseball cap and squinted up at
my direction.

�What the hell are you doing up there? I told you to roam around the farm, not
climb a tree!�

�They talked me into it!� I said, pointing at the kids, who were a good distance
away, their hands muffling their laughter. Erik glanced at their direction and they
ran away with their mirthful laugh.

Erik�s head tilted up back at me, his brows fused in a frown. �Come down, Steph.�

�I can�t!� I said through clenched teeth. My legs were getting numb from lack of
movement. �I can�t move!�

�What?� he asked incredulously.

�I can�t move!� I shouted this time, tears blurring my vision. I was really tired
and all I wanted was to go to bed and sleep.

�You won�t be able to climb down if you just sit there!� he shouted from below.

�I said I can�t do it! Why are you getting mad?! Do you think I love sitting here?!
� A tear fell from my eyes. I was angry and tired at the same time. Why did he have
to be mad at me? Oh, yes, I forgot. He was mad because of our fight. Remembering
our fight, more tears flowed down my cheeks and then a whimper followed--and a
choking sound.

�Are you crying?� he asked, his eyes squinting to get a better look at my face.

�This is your entire fault!� I choked, wiping my cheeks with my dirty hands.

�What? I didn�t ask you to go climbing trees!� he said incredulously. His hands
were on his hips now. In the weeks I had known him, that gesture meant he was
getting impatient. He circled around on the ground in frustration. When he looked
up, his face was calmer, his eyes gentle. �Please, just come down. It�s easy. Just
put your foot down that branch just below you and climb down.�

�What branch?� I asked, looking down. �I can�t see any branch!�

�Steph, calm down,� he tried once again. He walked away and picked up a bamboo
stick. When he was back, he pointed the stick at a branch just below me. �See?
Here�s the branch. No, try standing up, turn around and slowly place your right
foot on it.�

I sniffed, but I did as he told. �Why couldn�t you just get a ladder?� I asked as I
slowly turned around the branch I was on, my knees shaking.
�Careful! Look down! How can you see the branch if you�re looking up?� he demanded.

�It�s too high!�

�Are you aware that you are only about six feet off the ground?� he asked dryly.

�Why don�t I just jump? You can catch me!� I said, looking over my shoulder at him.

�Not going to happen. Now, go down with one foot�that�s it. Careful, Steph. Watch
that branch. Okay, that�s it. No! Don�t let go of that branch. Are you trying to
kill yourself? Yes, that�s right.�

�Okay! I got it!� I shot at him angrily. Well, I was actually angrier at myself.
Why didn�t I see that branch? I could have saved myself from a big humiliation.
�Get out of the way!� I shouted at him when he held out his arms to help me as I
neared the ground. He stepped back and I jumped the remaining height. Grunting, I
turned around to look for my slippers. When I found them and put them on, I walked
away without a word.

�Hey,� he called out.

I didn�t answer. I concentrated on walking down the cajon. He could go to hell. I

was actually expecting that he would panic, find a ladder and rescue me from that
tree. Brushing aside my hopeless romantic thoughts, I kept on walking knowing full
well that he was just a few meters away from me.

The tables had turned the moment we reached the house. This time, I was the one who
was not talking to him. I was really pissed! I went to bed with the lights on and
slept like a baby.

My last thoughts were of revenge against the kids. They made me look like a fool,
those kids and I would have to teach them a lesson.

When I woke up, Erik had already made breakfast and was getting ready to go out to
the fields. He was now more tanned than he was when we got here. I did not answer
when he asked if I slept well.

�You�re still mad?� he asked. When I kept my mouth shut, he shrugged. �Fine. See
you at lunch. Please tell the people they can get the coffee from the kitchen.�

I shot him a murderous look as he turned away and walked to the door. He was
leaving me again?! And the farmers were coming for their traditional cup of coffee!
How do I manage that?

But manage I did. I actually found them good to talk to because they offered a lot
of stories I could never get from the people in the big city. They talked about how
they came to know Erik and how the man helped them get back on their feet when the
former farm they worked with closed down.

And then I remembered to ask them something. �Do you know of a farm owned by a man
named Antonio?� I asked them. Erik and I were not talking yet so I couldn�t ask his
help to find Antonio�s farm which would lead us to the tree and then the time
capsule.

Manang Gina, an old lady with graying hair frowned. �I know Antonio.�

I straightened in my chair and leaned closer to her. �Is he by any chance from
Dumaguete?� I was holding my breath and crossing my fingers under the table.
Please, let it be Antonio.

It took her a long time before nodding. �Yes, I guess he is from Dumaguete. His
parents owned a house there when he was young. I remember him because my parents
used to work for their farm.�

�Can you show me the way to the farm, Manang?� I asked excitedly. The time capsule
would be opened in a few days and I better not be late for that. I had to know
where the tree was.

But Manang Gina shook her head. �It�s a little far from here. You will need a
ride.�

I groaned. That meant asking Erik to borrow his truck or worse, drive me there
himself. �Thanks, Manang.�

�But I�m not sure if Antonio�s there. I haven�t seen him for a long time,� Manang
Gina added.

�That�s okay. Do you know if he�s still�you know? Alive?� I cringed as I asked
that. It was an awkward question for me.

Again, the old lady frowned. �I don�t know. I�m not sure, hija. The last I saw of
him, he was still in his thirties.�

The other farmers were too busy talking about their activities for the day that
they did not bother butting in. I didn�t ask further. It was good enough to know
that Antonio�s farm was accessible for me.

Later, the kids were back.

�What?� I asked them, feigning irritation. �I�m not playing with you guys again.�

They giggled and Didoi came closer to me. �We called Manong Erik to rescue you,
didn�t we? Why are you mad?�

The look of amusement on their faces erased any anger I might have felt toward
them. They were just so damned cute to ignore. I sighed and leaned back against my
chair, �What do you want?�

�Let�s play hide and seek!� Jojo said with enthusiasm.

�You won�t have to climb trees,� Jay-r added.

Their begging faces were just irresistible so I gave in. I checked the time. Erik
just left again after we had our silent lunch so I had more hours to waste before
the silent dinner. �Okay, fine. Where are we going to play this time?�

Didoi jumped and pointed around. �Anywhere!�

�Except the stream. You cannot go to the stream,� Jay-r said.

�Why?�

�Because my mother said there are monsters there.�

�And a white lady who takes away children,� Jojo butt in, nodding his head.

�There are a lot of aswang in that stream,� Didoi agreed.

�Aswang?� I asked incredulously.

�Flesh-eating monsters,� Jojo explained.

�I know what an aswang is,� I said and stood up. �Okay, so who�s going to be it?�

Didoi was it and she was already counting with her eyes closed, her forehead
leaning against a large mango tree cushioned by her forearm.

Jay-r and Jojo were already gone. We went to the same island of trees we went to
yesterday and I felt lost. Where should I go? Didoi was nearly done with her
counting and I better find a place to hide. I found a track that led deeper into
the trees and I followed it. I could easily go back since the track was obviously
being used a lot.

Three minutes or so later, I found it. The stream.

It was not that scary as the children had pictured. It was actually kind of nice.
The gentle flow of water was soothing. I smiled and walked nearer, knowing full
well I would be safe to hide here. The children were afraid of the stream,
obviously because their parents made up stories so as to keep them from coming here
where to keep them safe.

�Huh, aswang my ass��

The stream was shallow and I chuckled as I crossed to the other side. �Did those
kids think they can beat me? No way!� I said aloud, confident I would not be found.
I never lost at anything in my life and if I did, I always made sure a rematch was
going to happen.

I decided I should probably wait for ten minutes. If the kids couldn�t find me,
they would panic, thinking I got lost. That would be payback enough. I washed my
feet on the stream, sitting on a rock. I could picture the women doing their
laundry in this place. There were signs of soaps on some of the rocks.

I checked my watch and when I thought it was safe to go back to the mango tree and
save myself, I stood up.

�Oh shit!� I cried when I saw it in the middle of the track. �No, no, no! Don�t
look at me!� But the goat did, munching on a grass. He looked at me and then
swallowed his food. He was directly blocking my path. �Shoo!� I cried, waving my
hand away from me. �Shoo!�

But it wouldn�t budge.

�Why does this happen to me every freaking time?!� I cried as I forced myself to
cross the stream. I picked up a wet stick along the way. �Go away!� I shouted at
it. �Go!� I did so again, waiving my stick around. It just looked at me like I was
the freaking white lady everyone was talking about. �Go away! Let me pass!�

The next thing it did made me run away to the nearest tree. �Ah! Erik!� I couldn�t
help but shout. The goat was following me. �Erik! Jay-r! Didoi! Jojo!� I shouted
again as I circled the tree and it kept on tailing me. �Shoo!� I tried again but
nothing. It came forward and that was when I decided I would be safer up on that
tree. And so I climbed, thanks to my tree-climbing lesson yesterday. �Ha! You think
you can follow me up here, do you? Go away, loser!� I told the goat. I waited for a
few more minutes for it to forget about me and find more grass. But the tree had
more grass around it and the goat seemed to love them.

�I can�t believe this,� I muttered, hugging a branch. �I can�t believe this!�

The black goat was joined by another white goat and I started to get worried. What
if the kids thought I decided to quit the game and went home? What if Erik came
home late?

�I must be the most unfortunate girl alive!� I cried in frustration. The goats
stirred from their activity but continued munching when I closed my mouth. �Oh,
God,� I said as I looked around. The tree I was on was not that big, but it gave
enough shade. I could already feel the sun was starting to say goodbye.

I was on the verge of jumping down the tree and run as fast as I could, risking
being attacked by the goats, when I heard Erik�s voice.

�I�m here!� I cried out. �I�m here!�

�Steph!� his voice was clearer now. I saw him emerge out of the track.

�Hey! Erik!� I shouted.

He scanned the area and when he spotted me on that tree, amusement was on his face.
�Oh, so now you�re talking to me?�

�Shut up! Get rid of these goats!�

His eyes wandered to the goats. �I see your problem,� he said.

�Just get them out of my way!� I demanded.

He took pity on me and walked to the goats. He shooed them away and when the path
was clear, I started to climb down. �Don�t even bother helping me,� I said, proud
that I knew how to perfectly make my way down the ground without a scratch.

�This is the second time you are trapped on a tree. I think you�re making a hobby
out of this,� he commented as I went to the stream to wash my feet.

�Shut up. I am not playing with those kids anymore.�

He laughed out loud and I shot him a look. �What? I told you to be careful around
them.�

I could see that he was no longer angry with me trying to pay him for his services.
Though I was still a little pissed, I didn�t want to have another fight with him.

�Let�s go. I still need to deliver a carabao.�

My head turned to him sharply. �A what?!�

Chapter 27

�Carabao. I told Lando I will deliver it to his house.�

�Why?�

�He needs it for the wedding tomorrow.�

Yes, right. I heard about some of the farmers talking about a wedding tomorrow.

�What for?�

He looked at me dryly. �Around here, we don�t use horses.�

My eyes bulged. �They are going to use the carabao to pull the carriage?�

�Yes,� he answered, shaking his head at my fascination.

He led the way back to the track. �How did you find me?�

�The kids looked for me again, saying they can�t find you,� he shot me a look of
amusement. �They are actually disappointed that you always ruin the game for them.�

I snorted. �It�s not my fault. They should have looked for me better. I guess I won
the game.�

He shook his head and walked faster ahead of me to a tree.

�Oh my God, it�s big!� I cried.

�You want to ride it?� he asked, untying the carabao from the tree.

�No way!�

He shrugged. �Fine. Lando�s house is a little far from here, I tell you.�

�Can I just go home ahead?� I asked, cringing at the carabao. Its eyes were so big
and they were looking at me. And God! Its lashes were amazingly long!

�No. You have the tendency to get lost or trapped on top of trees,� Erik answered,
pulling at the carabao. �Stay beside me.�

I did as he told and walked down the track with him. �Where are we going?�

�Lando�s house is about a mile away,� he said.

I groaned. �Do you have to be the one to deliver this one?�

�Everyone else is busy preparing for the wedding. We do things on our own around
here.�

�Yeah, yeah.�

My legs were killing me by the time we reached the road. I looked at the carabao
again and considered Erik�s offer.

�Tired?� he asked, his lips twitching.

I moaned. �It wouldn�t throw me off its back, right?�

Erik stopped the carabao and said, �It wouldn�t. Climb on,� he added. I hesitated
for a moment but my legs violently pushed me to climb on. Erik held the carabao
down and held my hand as I mounted the animal.

�Ah! It�s rough!� I cried out. The carabao�s skin was almost scratching my thighs.
It was like sitting on a tree trunk, only that it was a little softer. �Erik, I
don�t think this is going to--ah!� I did not finish my statement because he guided
the carabao back on its four legs. �Careful!� I said, my voice shaking. Erik�s
shoulders were shaking with mirth. �Oh God, its back is moving! I can feel it!�

�You�ll get used to it,� Erik encouraged with another chuckle. I kicked him lightly
with one foot. �Hey, careful! Hold on tight. Don�t make a big fuss up there.�

I would have jumped back on the ground if not for my legs. They were too exhausted
from my little adventure earlier. To help me forget about the carabao�s rough skin
against my legs, I looked around us. The sun was just coming down, leaving a
yellow-orange-pink-violet hue. The mountains were almost silhouettes now. The
gentle sway of the carabao ride almost made me want to sleep. The night air was
getting cold and I could hear the sound of crickets from the trees. All in all,
apart from the fact that I was riding a damned carabao, it was a nice evening.

I met Lando and his family half an hour later. I was feeling sore in between my
legs from the carabao ride, but I was glad to be part of the wedding committee who
delivered the couple�s ride for tomorrow.

�It�s a nice evening,� Erik said softly, taking my hand as made our way back to the
house. Since we didn�t have a carabao to bring with us, we made a shortcut across
the fields, along the cajon.

�Yeah,� I whispered. There was just something romantic about him taking my hand and
guiding me down the narrow path of the cajon. I wish he could do it often, I
thought. To forget about my hidden desires, I said, �I talked to Manang Gina
earlier. She told me there�s a farm nearby that belongs to a man named Antonio.�

I saw him nod his head. �I have heard the same thing. But I�m not sure if that�s
the place you�re looking for. I haven�t met the owner.�

�You think he�s still alive?�

He shrugged. �I don�t know. Maybe. The place looks maintained.�

�You�ve seen it?�

�Yes.�

�And the tree?�

�What tree?�

�The one where he buried the time capsule!�

�I don�t know. There are a lot of trees in that area. It would be a challenge.�

I was disappointed. I was hoping there would only be one tree that would shout,
�Hey! It�s me! Come take the time capsule! It�s about time!�

�Don�t worry. I will ask around tomorrow.�

�Don�t forget to ask specifics about Antonio. He�s from Dumaguete.�

�Sure,� he said, squeezing my hand.

That night, the lights were out due to power shortage and it is because of the
heavy rain which was making the trees sway like crazy. Add all elements together
and I was one scared girl. Since I was still worried about bedrooms being too open
for public access, I knocked on Erik�s door through our shared bathroom.

�Yes?� he asked.

�Can I go in?� I asked.

�Yes,� he answered and I opened the door. He was hunched over a bedside table
beside his bed. A candle was flickering on the table as he worked. �Do you need
something?� he asked.

I grimaced. �The lights are out and there are these crazy sounds--�

�Of course you can sleep on my bed,� he said before I could finish. �Just make sure
you don�t snore.�

�You know I don�t!�

�Fine. Go get your pillows.�

I jumped and grabbed two pillows from my bedroom and rushed back inside his. His
bed was big enough for three people. We had shared a far smaller sleeping space
last week so I was not at all worried.

�Thanks,� I murmured as I lay on his bed, making myself comfortable.

�No problem,� he answered, still studying some papers.

�Aren�t you going to sleep?� I asked.

�Later. Go to sleep, Steph. Good night,� his voice was gentle but his eyes were
still busy with the papers.

��Night,� I uttered before closing my eyes. �And Erik?� I whispered slowly.

�Yes?�

�I�m sorry.�

�Long forgiven. And I�m sorry, too.�

�Just forgiven,� I said with a smile. I heard his light chuckle as sleep dawned on
me.

A while later I felt his familiar arms pulling me against his warmth. I didn�t dare
wake up. If it was a dream, I�d rather wake up thinking it was real.

Chapter 28

The next day was a busy one. And it was the perfect day for a wedding. The rain had
stopped and left everything fresh and clean. I literally breathed in the fresh air
as I went out the door to join Erik and the farmers for a coffee.

I had never thought that I could find such a simple activity so touching. There
were the tin cup filled of freshly brewed coffee and there were the farmers who
were excitedly talking about the wedding. And there was the man whom I had been
with every day since all of this started. I almost felt ashamed of myself. The way
I had acted around him when we first met was something I was not proud of. Seeing
him in his home, in the place he obviously cared a lot about, was a sight for me.
He looked like a boy who finally found the best playground and a man who couldn�t
ask for more.

�What can I do to help?� I asked Manang Gina. I joined them with my cup of coffee.
The men were grouped together in one corner, talking about electricity and lighting
for the wedding. The ladies were talking about flowers and food. I decided I
belonged in their group.

�Leah doesn�t have anything for her face later,� said Manang Gina. �Can you help
her with that?�

I smiled proudly. �Anything about the face, I have that,� I said, finally glad that
I could take out my cosmetics. I never really use them but always bring them with
me in cases of emergencies and this, I considered, was an emergency. Good think I
brought along my suitcase.

The farmers went back to work in the fields the whole morning but by lunch time
everyone was back to their homes with Erik�s blessings. They had a wedding to
attend and prepare for anyway.

By three o�clock in the afternoon, while I was practicing my makeup skills on Didoi
out in the veranda, Manang Gina came with Leah, the bride. Didoi immediately
climbed out of the chair to wash her face, muttering about never coming near me
again. Erik had agreed that the bride be dressed up in my room since the wedding
reception was taking place in the open space in front of his house.

Leah had a natural Filipina beauty. Her skin was fantastic and I even wondered how
she managed to take care of it without using any products. It took us more than one
hour to prepare her simple white dress and hair and makeup.

Erik would drive us to the church where everyone else was waiting and he
congratulated me with my work when he saw Leah. In order not to divert the
attention of the people from the bride, I dressed in a simple light-blue dress, the
closest shade to the motif of the wedding. That way, I could blend in. After all,
it was supposed to be the bride�s special day and it is an unspoken rule that they
shall be the most beautiful girl in the crowd.

Lando was dressed in barong, a traditional Filipino clothing and his face was
glowing when he saw Leah in her white dress with white daisies in hand walk down
the aisle of the small church. I noted that a small church was actually more ideal
for a wedding. It seemed to be filled and there were no empty chairs at the back.
It made the ceremony more intimate.

I sat down beside Erik as the mass started. My eyes started to water when the
priest said, �Saying �I love you� to someone is like telling a blind person the
right way to the nearest town or shouting at someone who is deaf. You cannot
effectively make them understand unless you show them. So Leah and Lando, don�t
forget to show each other the love that you feel toward one another. The words,
along with your actions, will be enough to make your marriage work. Add your faith
in God and everything will be just like today: full of love and happiness.�
His words were somehow a contradiction from the ones I received from Father
Guevarra. But they both made sense. Telling someone how you feel and show it to the
person may sound easy, but it really isn�t. It takes courage too.

When the bride and groom were officially announced as husband and wife, everyone
inside the church cheered and I couldn�t help by clap along with everyone with
tears in my eyes.

�You�re crying?� Erik asked. Really, for someone like him who had been left in the
altar, he should be the one crying.

�I can�t help it. I always cry in weddings,� I admitted.

Well, it was true. I had a few friends in Makati and most of them were already
married. I cried during their special day. Since my father didn�t grow up with
parents, I don�t really have any other family members whom I attended a wedding to.
I only had a few of my friends and every time, I cried. I cried because they
finally found the right person. They could finally build a family, have more
children.

I brushed away the longing in my heart. If I would ever get the chance to have a
family, I would make lots of children so all of them didn�t have to be left behind
or play alone. Yes, my future children would definitely grow up together happy.

By the time the couple went away on a decorated carriage pulled by the carabao I
rode last night, Erik and I went back to his truck. Some of the farmers hitched a
ride with us back to the house. Since we had to make more preparations, I
immediately went back to work. The men had set up banderitas across the ground.
Tables of different sizes and chairs of different colors were already properly
placed, making a very festive atmosphere.

�Great job with the flowers,� Erik told me later as we settled in one of the
chairs.

�Thanks. The ladies were very enthusiastic with their tasks,� I told him, looking
around the place. The children were busy playing around and I was glad my three
best friends did not bother to ask me to join. They were busy with their own group
of friends in the middle of the ground that would later serve as the dance floor.
�Do these children have to grow up here?� I asked. �I mean they can go to the city,
study and be professionals.�

�They can,� Erik was watching the children as well. �Some of them do. But not all
of them.�

I frowned. �It�s just sad to know that children like Didoi cannot be more than what
they are meant to be.�

He looked at me. �What made you think they are not better off here?�

�It�s just that�they can have a better life in the city. Here, the
progress�everything is slow.�

�People around here move slow,� he answered in agreement. �They don�t care much
about tomorrow. They start their day with a cup of coffee and a lot of rice to last
them the whole day. Then they put on their long-sleeve shirts and wide-brim hats
and go to the fields. They tend to the soil to be ready for planting. They take a
break under the cool shed offered by the trees. They talk, take a nap and then they
go back to work. Before the sun comes down they all go home, cook whatever they can
find in their backyard, and they talk some more. The women put the children to
sleep, the men gather and drink tuba. By night time, while we all go out to clubs
to party, they are all sound asleep inside their mosquito nets, on their bamboo
floors which offer cool ventilation. Their days will continue to be that way and
the only change is the growing of the sugarcane and rice,� he narrated and I could
actually picture each scene in my head. I had witnessed almost everything he
mentioned.

�That sounds nice, but--�

�They are contented people, Steph, that�s what I am saying,� Erik interrupted.
�They don�t aspire for greater things not because they lack the courage to dream,
but because they grew up living that way and they have a different way of seeing
what actual living is. They give more importance to living the everyday rather than
living for tomorrow. And they grow because of it.�

I smiled at him. �Is this what you learned from your healing days?�

Erik sighed. �I learned to respect them. I respect their courage to stay different
and stay the way they are--their happiness over simple things and their great
understanding of a simple life most of us fail to see. This is why I can�t leave
this place. This is where I grew to be myself without expecting the world to judge
me because I didn�t pursue my profession.� His gaze was at the people carrying
different containers of food. �I learned how to deal with myself by living in a
slow pace. I didn�t have to witness other people have their lives come in a rush.
The pain was longer, but it made me stronger. By staying away from the fast life of
the city, I found time--time to heal, time to change. Time in the city is
represented by the number of hours you clocked in for work; the things you forgot
and missed; and the ticking of your watch. Around here, time is the sun coming up
and down. Time here is what you make out of it. That�s something I wouldn�t trade
for anything in the city.�

He might be right, I thought. Time was different here. It seemed that I owned each
day and that I could do almost anything that the place offered. I even realized I
had never asked where the television was when we came here. Not once did I try to
turn on the radio. God, I was experiencing immersion at its best and I guess it was
not that bad.

Everyone cheered and went to their feet when Lando and Leah climbed down the
carriage. I wanted to congratulate my dear carabao friend for a job well done. The
moment the couple started, the dancing began. I was actually expecting for someone
to make a long speech or make a toast, but things happened simultaneously. There
was no wedding planner and everybody just did whatever they thought was fun.
Someone had set up a karaoke machine when dinner was over and people started
singing. Some people were in the middle of the dance floor dancing to the old tune.

�Oh, Lord,� I groaned when Erik stood up and went to punch some numbers in the
karaoke machine.

The couple had gone to the mountain resort a few miles from the farm. There, they
would spend their honeymoon.

Looking at Erik waiting for his song to play, I wanted to go with the ladies who
had bid us goodnight.

The moment the song started, I knew it was his. It was freaking Even the Nights are
Better.
�What�s with you and this song?� I demanded when he walked toward me.

�You know this is our song,� he said and pulled me up to my feet.

Everyone cheered us on as Erik started to sing. Why couldn�t he just select a

better song? He really enjoyed singing the song and I couldn�t understand why. But
when he urged me to sing along, I did so with energy. If this was our song, I
better learn to love it.

Two hours later, I was quite drunk. The men kept on giving me tuba, a fermented
drink from the coconut tree. I was pretty sure they tried to explain how it was
done, but I couldn�t remember. It didn�t taste that strong, but still, it had its
effect. Erik had been sitting beside me as we joined the conversations of the men
ranging from rice to cows to sugarcane to love and to women. Since I was the only
one left to represent the opposite sex, I couldn�t just let them talk behind our
backs.

�Where are you going?� Erik asked when I suddenly stood up.

�I need to get some water,� I answered. I was starting to hiccup and it was getting
irritating. I couldn�t even finish a sentence.

�I�ll come with,� he said, standing up.

�No, I�m fine. The--hiccup--water�s--hiccup,�

�Yeah, right. Let�s go,� he said, pulling at my hand. �And it�s already dark. You
are the clumsiest person I know.�

We walked to the table where the water container was. He got me a glass and filled
it with water. I took ten small sips and checked if my hiccup was gone. When it
was, I gave Erik back the water. I started walk and I was about a good five-meter
away when Erik said, �Hey! You�re walking to the wrong direction!�

�What?� I asked, my vision blurred.

�That�s not the way. Come back here,� he called out.

�Right,� I nodded, turned around and started walking. And then I stopped. �Erik��

�What? Come on, Steph. I think you�re drunk. We should go in.�

�Erik,� I cringed. �Oh, shit!�

�What is it?�

�Shit!�

�What is it?� he repeated.

�I said it�s a shit! I think I stepped on it.� I couldn�t move my right foot. I was
stuck in the middle of a big carabao dung.

Chapter 29

�What?�
�Erik�help me, please. What do I do?�

He was laughing as he walked toward me, looking at my foot. �You bet you stepped
right in the middle of it.�

�That carabao�s going to pay�� I said as I pinched my nose.

�Just step right out of it.�

�But--�

�Just do it,� he urged.

�I can�t!� I couldn�t imagine how it would feel. I was about to throw up.

�Steph,� Erik�s voice was full of warning.

I whined, looking at him while feeling helpless. What he did next was a surprise.
Laughing, he bent down and lifted me off the ground. �Don�t you dare move that leg!
� he warned as I shouted. It was dark, but I could picture my foot covered with the
muddy color of excrement. Instead of going back to our table, Erik walked to a
nearby water pump. It was the manual kind so he placed me down where the water
would come out and started pumping. �Make sure you get rid of it all. I don�t want
you walking on my floors with that dirty foot of yours.�

My whines and quivering voice were constant as I placed my foot under the water.
Erik�s constant laughter was not helping ease the pity I was feeling for my foot.
And my slippers! They were like the closest best friends I had other than my golden
sandals.

�Done?� Erik asked, looking at my foot.

�I guess so,� I answered when I thought it was clean enough. I found a brush that
was probably used by someone who did Erik�s laundry and brushed my foot with it.
The strong scent of detergent soap was a good sign that I did a good job.

�Okay, let�s go,� he announced, taking my hand in his. It was not the lead-me-
somewhere handholding. It was lock-your-fingers-through-mine handholding. I
blushed, grateful for the darkness.

�Where are we going?� I asked. The incident earlier had drained the alcohol in my
veins.

�I need some air,� he uttered, pulling me further from the group of tuba drinkers
and what remained of the celebration earlier.

I stumbled on my wet feet as I followed him down the uneven path. When we reached
the big tree that looked out into the open and sloping rice fields and the
mountains around us, I let go of his hand. �I didn�t know this place holds such a
view,� I uttered in awe.

Erik pointed to the right, �You see that? That�s the small town we passed by when
we came here.�

�Cool,� I uttered, looking at the glowing spot at the foot of the mountain. I
wondered then what the people were doing there right that very moment.

Erik reached up to the lowest branch of the tree and something dropped, hanging
above ground. �A hammock? Really?� I asked laughingly. �How rude of you to keep it!
�

�This is the only thing in the farm people are not allowed to touch,� he said as he
sat on the hammock. He patted the small space beside him and I came forward to join
him. With our legs, we pushed the hammock back and fell in its gentle sway.

�I understand why you like this spot,� I stated a while later. �It�s quiet and the
view is fantastic.� When he did not answer, I turned to him and found his curious
gaze staring at me. �What?� I asked, leaning away to get a better look of his face.

�You�re not bothered I was a drug addict in the past?�

Okay, that really took me aback. �Should it?�

His gaze flickered away from me and he shrugged. �I don�t know.�

�Erik, what I learned so far from this journey is that I should never judge someone
because of their past,� I said softly and seriously. The wind blew on my face and I
was starting to feel cold. And without a word, like it was the most natural thing
to do, Erik wound his left arm around my shoulder and held me tight until I was
almost bending over in front of him with my back against his chest. He locked his
fingers together to keep me close.

It was uncomfortable for me, but his warmth was much better. And I may not have the
opportunity to enjoy it, I thought. It could be the last one I would get since I
was nearing the end of my journey.

�It�s just that not all people would decide to stay around me whenever they learn
of my past,� he said softly, his breath blowing on top of my head.

I leaned away from him a little just so I could look at him. He was still looking
ahead at the mountains before us and I had the time to study his face. His beard
was starting to show and I thought I liked him with that look. I wish he would not
shave it off later in the morning. He was one of the few men who would look
gorgeous without any effort. And he was one of the few who would still look the
same with the lights on. �Does it bother you?� I asked, �That people stay away from
you because of it?�

His lips twitched a little as he shifted his gaze to mine, �When it�s the people I
care about, yes, it bothers me.�

�Well, I do hope that you care about me because I am not bothered at all. So that�s
one person you should be thankful for,� I chided, poking him with one elbow.

�Hmmm�� he said as he unclasped his fingers and lifted one hand to my chin. He took
hold of it and turned my face to the right. �Let�s see. This face�� he turned it to
the left, �I don�t really know if I care about it. But,� he added before I could
give him another nudge, �I might just consider,� he said with a jesting tone.

�Tease!� I cried, pushing him away with both hands.

�Hey!� he shouted when the hammock moved. He tried to control the tilting, but he
still ended up on his back on the grass below us. And I followed sooner as the
hammock finally gave in and capsized. I landed on his chest with a laugh.

Erik grunted saying, �Get off me. You�re heavy!�

I slapped his shoulder, leaning away. �No, I�m not!�

I was just about to roll off him when he circled his arms around me.

�Erik, let go of me,� I said, pushing with my hands but not really.

I felt his chest rumble with a laugh. His eyes were closed.

�Erik, let--�

�Let�s just stay like this for a while,� he whispered, one that sounded like he was
about to go to sleep.

Without much complaint, I gave up. I leaned down with my arms folded between us. He
turned so my side was on the grass beside him and held me closer. I felt him take a
deep breath. I unclenched my palms and planted them flat on his chests and tilted
my head upward to look at his face. His rough chin brushed against my forehead and
I giggled.

�What?�

�Your whiskers tickle,� I answered.

�Ahh�whiskers you say?� he said it in a playful tone that sent alarm through my
spine. That tone meant he was up to some play I was going to lose.

�Erik!� I cried when he leaned down and nuzzled his chin against that spot where my
neck and shoulder met. I tried to wriggle my way out of his embrace but he was as
strong as steel. �Stop that!� I cried out again, pushing him away with my palms.

And then it changed. The playful nuzzle turned to something else entirely and I
couldn�t feel the tickle. He was now kissing the crook of my neck, his slightly
bearded chin gently brushing against my skin in a way that shot millions of
synapses across my spine, extending to my extremities and to the tips of my
fingers. My hands were no longer pushing him away. Rather, they climbed their way
up his shoulders to pull my body close to him.

I softly gasped when his lips traveled up to that sensitive part behind my ear and
lingered there for a few seconds. His breath against my ear almost made me quiver.

Okay, fine, I was the one who couldn�t wait. I turned my head so his lips were just
a few centimeters above mine.

�I do,� he whispered as his eyes looked into mine.

�What?� I couldn�t even hear myself when I asked that.

�I do care about you,� he answered.

Chapter 30

The kiss was just a centimeter and a second away if it were not for the voice we
heard from somewhere near.

�Sir Erik? Ma�am Steph?� asked a man�s voice behind us.

I was pretty sure Erik and I groaned at the same time as we hastily pushed
ourselves to a sitting position.
�Yes, Manong?� Erik asked after clearing his throat.

�Is everything okay?� asked the man, walking nearer. His voice was full of concern.
�We thought we heard Ma�am Steph scream.�

�We just fell off the hammock,� Erik answered, getting up on his feet and pulling
me up from where I was sitting.

�Yeah,� I said with a laugh. �I�m sorry if we alarmed you.�

�Be careful. There�s a slope just a few meters away from where you are. You can get
into an accident,� said the man.

�Thanks, Manong.�

�And go back to the table. What are you two doing there anyway?�

�Sure, we�ll be right behind you,� I uttered, brushing some grass off my shirt.

�Good to go?� Erik asked me.

I cleared my throat. �Let�s go before they come up with a crazy idea that you�re
raping me.�

�Rape? You? Nah-ah, not going to happen,� he uttered and walked on ahead with a
laugh.

�Well, you won�t call it rape. I will be a willing victim,� I whispered grudgingly.

�What did you say?� he asked, looking over his shoulder.

My eyes bulged. Did I say it out loud? �Nothing!� I answered and ran the rest of
the steps to walk beside him.

The next day, I was surprised to find myself wrapped in Erik�s arm. He was still
sound asleep and I immediately assessed if our clothes were intact and I heaved a
sigh when I still had on the clothes I was wearing yesterday. It would be a shame
if we continued where we left off last night without a memory for me to review. But
why did I end up in his bedroom?

I slowly eased myself out of his arms and climbed out of bed. I went back to my
room, grabbed a set of clothes and went to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and
frowned. No water was coming out.

�Erik!� I said as I stormed right back to his room.

He grumbled some incoherent words.

�Erik!� I shook him until he opened an eye.

�What?� he asked in a sleepy croaky voice and I almost wanted to kiss him right
there and then.

�The faucet�s not working.�

�Use the one below,� he said and rolled to the other side and went back to sleep.
I climbed down to the downstairs bathroom. Still no water. I could have gone back
to pester him but I decided my bath could wait until the water came back. I went
out to the balcony and found some people already outside, cleaning up the mess we
had made during the wedding celebration yesterday.

An idea popped in my head. I went back to the kitchen and made coffee. I waited for
the black liquid to slowly fill the container without thinking of anything, just
staring at the slightly foggy view of the mountains through the open window of the
kitchen. When it was done, I grabbed the coffee and some mugs. I placed them on the
tray that Erik usually used and took everything outside.

�Hey! Guys! Coffee�s ready!� I called out at everyone. �Come on! You can do that
later,� I added. They did not need another word of encouragement and started to
walk up to the house.

Erik found us later talking about the previous day, the men wondering how Lando was
doing after his first night with his wife. The women and I were asking them to give
the man a break once he returned from his honeymoon when Erik came to sit beside
me.

�The water�s not flowing in both bathrooms,� I informed him in case he forgot.

�What day is it?� he asked, his eyes puffy from sleep.

�Wednesday.�

�No water on Wednesdays,� everyone answered.

The horror on my face was apparent and the ladies said, �Don�t worry. The water
pump is still working. You can take your bath over there.�

I looked at the water pump where I washed my foot last night. There was no way I
was going to take a bath there. No way I was going to take a bath in such an open
space!

I ate my words later that afternoon when Erik forgot to carry some buckets of water
from the pump to the bathroom. He was already out to the fields and I was left with
two options: carry buckets of water or take a bath right there and then.

I asked Didoi to watch over me as I washed myself beside the water pump. She taught
me how to do it with my clothes on and it was actually quite fun when I got over
the embarrassment of having to take a bath outside. No one seemed to care that I
was clumsily pumping water and pouring it over my head using a tabo. It was a
common sight every Wednesday, Didoi had said as she watched me soap my arms.

�Are you staying here for good?� was her question that made the soap jump from my
hand.

�What? No,� I answered as I bent down to pick it up from the ground.

�Why?�

With my head covered with shampoo bubbles, I turned to her with a frown. �What do
you mean �why�?�

�Why are you not staying here for good?�

�I have a home far away from here. And I have work,� I honestly explained as I
cleaned the soap.

�I thought you are going to stay here for good,� she said, swinging her legs from
the stool she was sitting on. My towel was on her lap and she played with it as she
spoke.

�Why? You�re going to miss me?�

She shook her head, �No, not really. But Manong Erik might.�

I snorted. �Yeah, right.�

�Aren�t you going to marry him?�

The soap dropped on the ground once again. �What made you think I�m going to marry
him?�

Didoi looked at me, her expression perplexed. �He said he�s going to get married.�

It seemed that my tongue dropped backwards down my throat. I couldn�t speak. �He
is?�

Didoi�s bewildered face deepened. �You don�t know? I thought he�s going to marry
you.�

I wish, I said inside my head. �No, we�re not getting married, Didoi. We�re
just�friends.�

�Then you are not the girl he is going to marry? The one he told us about?�

I slowly shook my head. �No, I�m not. When did he tell you this?�

Didoi shrugged. �Yesterday. We asked him if he is going to get married too and he
said yes.�

Clearing my throat, I picked the soap for the second time and washed it again.
�Well, that doesn�t mean he is going to get married soon.�

�But we thought you are going to marry him. Then that means it is the other girl.�

I froze. �What other girl?�

�The one who loves to cook,� Didoi answered.

�Rock?�

Her face lit up when she recognized the name. �Yeah! That one!�

�She has been here?�

�Many times! And she�s a really good tumbang preso player! She climbs trees fast as
well!�

Okay, stop that! I wanted to shout. So what if Rock was a good cook? What if she
was the best tumbang preso player? What if she could climb trees better? Didoi
didn�t have to bluntly say that to my face!
�Well, I guess you�re right,� I answered, standing up to rinse. �She just might be
the one,� I added in a whisper.

The opening of the time capsule fell on a Sunday. I didn�t actually do nothing on
the days before that. For one, I had to learn how to wash my own clothes and for
two days, I got used to sitting on a small stool at the water pump. I didn�t like
what the task did to my hands though I enjoyed the squishing sound my clothes made
with every rub when I finally got the hang of it. It made me feel like I was doing
it right.

Didoi was my constant companion along with Jay-r and Jojo during the hours that
Erik was away. If they were playing, I would watch and at times, if I felt they
were not up to something tricky, I would join. They taught me how to play the
tumbang preso (which I desperately wanted to be the best at) and some other games I
never learned when I was small. I used to play alone when I was growing up so I was
new to everything. It was amazing as well how the kids easily lost interest on
Candy Crush when I introduced the game. Sure they were amazed at how they could
manipulate my phone with their fingers but that was just it. They went running
around the yard and across the cajon sooner than I thought. My attempt to keep them
from playing outside and lure them inside the house to accompany me failed so I was
left with no choice but to go out with them. Erik noted one evening that I was
developing a glowing color from my plays outside. Well, he was right. I was a
little bit tanner and my cheeks had that sun-kissed glow on them.

Talking with the workers every morning over freshly brewed coffee became
comfortable for me too. That Thursday, they invited Erik and I to drink tuba with
them and I was able to eat my very first �adobong paka� or �palaka� in Tagalog. I
never found out I was eating frog until Erik told me when we got home. I almost
threw up but then, the dish was too good to even consider wasting down the drain.

I shared more hammock moments with Erik since that night I stepped on a carabao
dung. In most times, we sat there after our morning coffee, before he would go out
to the fields and during the late afternoons to watch the sun go down. We would
stay there until it was time for dinner which we would cook together. Since he
didn�t want to receive any monetary payment from me, I felt it was only right that
I help him with some of the chores.

It was actually fun to see Erik cooking or washing the dishes. I was not used to
being around men who were comfortable doing household chores.

When Saturday came, we decided to find Antonio�s farm. Since not a lot of farmers
were around during his time, we had to rely on Manang Gina�s story.

Not knowing Antonio�s last name made the search even more difficult. The
information that Antonio came from Dumaguete was the only important detail that we
could use. Erik and I spent the whole Saturday asking around and we ended up with
two Antonio�s who owned a farm around Don Salvador. The first one was already dead
and the other was not seen for a very long time. We went to the Antonio mentioned
by Manang Gina, the one who had been gone for a long time, but the farm was closed.
The caretaker knew Erik so he let us in to roam around the grounds of the farm.

The moment I saw it, I knew.

It was not as big as the other trees I had seen around the area, but the way it
stood alone overlooking the mountains told me it was the tree that held the time
capsule.
�I�m pretty sure it is the tree, Erik,� I whispered beside him, my lips shaking. I
felt like crying. Mixture of emotions swirled inside me. I finally found the tree
that my grandmother was supposed to see today. I finally found the very thing that
started my journey and thinking of my journey, I remembered everything that
happened to me. I remembered the reckless decisions and the unfortunate events. But
they were all worth it. I knew I found the tree.

The caretaker had been careful not to answer personal questions about the owner but
when I asked about the age of the Nara tree, �They said it is nearing its one-
hundredth,� he answered with pride. �It had once fallen because of the strong storm
during the 80�s but the owner ordered everyone to put it back on its feet. It�s a
miracle it still stands.�

I nodded. I understood why Antonio felt that he had to save the tree and he
succeeded in that. Now, the question was: would he be here tomorrow for the
letters?

On our drive back to Erik�s farm, I was silent.

�What are you thinking?� he asked, throwing me a glance.

I scoffed. �For someone who always thinks he knows what�s on my mind, you�re giving
yourself away.�

He shrugged. �I know you are avoiding my question.�

�It�s nothing. I wonder if he�ll be there tomorrow.�

�You should have asked the caretaker.�

�I was afraid to know the answer.�

�At least now we know he�s alive, right?�

I nodded, �I guess that�s right.�

�But�� he trailed off.

�But what?�

�But we�re not certain he is the Antonio we are looking for.�

�No,� I said strongly. �I believe it is him. As certain as I am about the tree.�

I felt his gaze on me but he did not say a word. Whatever he was thinking, I didn�t
want to hear it. I had enough things to think about as of the moment and one of
them was what to say to the man who broke my grandmother�s heart.

I couldn�t sleep that night. I was back in my room and I didn�t want to bother Erik
once more by knocking on his door. Obviously, sleep was not coming sooner so I
climbed out of bed and went out to the veranda. I watched the hammock�s tree at the
far distance and I wondered if Erik also spent hours with Rock sitting and talking
under it.

Stop it, Steph, I told myself. Whatever they had was none of my business. So what
if he took her here? She was the closest female friend he had and if they had
something more special than friendship was something I should not even be thinking
about. I had enough troubles of my own.

Should I slap Antonio? Well, that would be a satisfaction. He broke my

grandmother�s heart. He left her over the desire to save his family. Was it that
difficult for him to find another solution? Was marrying someone else and leaving
the girl you love the only resort?

Or maybe he didn�t love her enough. That might be it. Maybe he didn�t love her as
much as she loved him.

But why did he even suggest to write the letters and buried them in a time capsule?
He might have had second thoughts. Or maybe he wanted to make my grandmother hope
for something that was obviously not going to happen. Maybe he was playing safe and
he wanted to hang on to both ends.

For the second time, I shook my head. The answers to my questions could only be
answered by Antonio.

He better be alive and he better come tomorrow.

With the thoughts of Antonio temporarily set aside, my mind went back to the tree
down below. I glanced over my shoulder to look at Erik�s bedroom door. It was past
midnight and he might be asleep by now. Gathering my courage, I turned around and
climbed down the stairs. I walked to the door, unlocked it and stepped out into the
balcony. The silence of the night was deafening and comforting at the same time as
I walked to the tree, my arms across my chest to block the cold mountain wind.
Determined never to step on another animal�s dung, I carefully trudged my way to
where I spent some quality time with Erik. I jumped to reach the edge of the
hammock and quickly stepped aside as it swiftly fell from its hiding place.

It gave a little grunt as I sat and started a gentle sway, looking at the foot of
the mountain. Some of the lights were still twinkling like stars fallen from the
sky. I knew why Erik loved this spot. It offered a peaceful solitary haven that was
comfortable and silent, but not lonely. Yet despite that, I felt my eyes water.
Tomorrow was the day I had intended to see through yet I wanted it to be postponed.
Why was it that a big part of me wanted to stop the time? Why couldn�t the time
move slower?

You had always been eager to go back to Makati, moron, my mind said.

Obviously, a lot had changed. Or maybe I changed.

In the littlest part of my brain, I blamed Wawa for ever writing that diary. Why
didn�t they have the internet back then? She could have just blogged about
everything that happened to her and people from all over the world could have
comforted her. She could have found more friends like Father Guevarra who could
have told her everything was going to be alright. And she could have just joined
those silly online email things that would send messages you�ve written to people
once you are gone. She and Antonio could have set the time sixty years for the
emails to be delivered. That way, I could read the letters from Makati. That way, I
didn�t have to make this journey with Erik. That way, I wouldn�t have met the
people I met. That way, I wouldn�t be shedding these stupid tears.

I should be back in Makati, working in my caf�s morning to afternoon and hopping

bars at night. I shouldn�t be here wasting precious, salty liquids from my eyes for
the things I should not even care about.
In my marvelous years growing up, I had never felt this kind of pain and longing.
Yes, I did feel them when my mother died, but it was a different kind. This one was
something else. Different tiny needles were pricking my heart at the moment and it
seemed that the only comfort were the tears.

�Shit,� I muttered as I briskly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Defining
how I felt would be very complicated. Maybe the pain was different because I felt
different kinds all at the same time. Years ago, it was just my mom. Now, it was an
assortment of people, events and memories. When I was finally done with this
journey, I would not only be leaving behind a completed goal. I would be leaving
something big, something I knew I couldn�t carry with me back home. It would take a
helluva of a magical plane to transport the things and the people I cherish from
here to Makati. And it would take a great deal of persuasion on my part to make
them say yes.

Maybe I would be left with the same choices as my Wawa.

Thinking of that, it was easier said than done. The only certainty I knew was that
I would be coming home to a strange land.

Chapter 31

�Hey, Steph, wake up.�

I felt a gentle shrug on my shoulder. My eyes slowly opened and a frown formed on
my face. Erik was standing over me, his face looking amused. And he was literally
glowing. I blinked and realized the glowing was the touch of sunlight behind him.
�Erik?� I croaked. Was he a dream? If he were, I didn�t want to wake up. He had a
new batch of bristles, fresh ones, around his mouth, chin and along his jaws. The
dream felt real. I could smell the fresh scent of the leaves and the grass; and I
could feel the cool touch of the wind. And I was gently swaying. I must admit, it
was the best dream ever.

�Hey, don�t tell me you were waiting for your kidnapper the whole night here,� Erik
said with laughter in his voice. Wait, he shouldn�t be saying that. He was in my
dream--my dream. And he should be bending down and kissing me like crazy. I closed
my eyes and willed my mind to alter that part of the dream. �Steph, come on. You�ll
catch a cold out here. Let�s go inside. You don�t want to be late for the letters
today, do you?�

My brows furrowed deeper and I opened my eyes. Daring to turn my head, I looked
around me. �Oh my God!� I cried and jumped to my feet. I would have fallen on the
ground if Erik wasn�t fast enough to catch me by the arms. The hammock nudged the
back of my knees as it violently swayed. �I fell asleep,� I muttered, still
threading my thoughts together. I looked over my shoulder, at the tree and at
Erik�s laughing face. �I fell asleep outside.�

He pinched my nose and said, �Yes, you did. And you almost gave me a heart attack
when I found out you were not anywhere around the house. Now, you have to make up
for it and brew me a cup of coffee,� he took my hand in his as he said that and
guided me away from the tree.

�My slippers,� I said, pulling him back. Still holding on to his hand, I slipped on
my precious pink slippers and let him guide me back to the house.

�Ready for later?� he asked.

�I think so,� I whispered.

�Don�t expect too much, okay?� he looked at me sincerely as he said so.

Against the strong rays of the morning sun, I looked at him and asked, �Why?�

He shrugged. �I just don�t want you to be disappointed.�

I expected the farmers to be coming in for coffee today but they didn�t. When I
asked Erik, he said, �I told them to give you some privacy for today.�

Eyeing him with suspicion, I said, �What did you tell them, really?�

He laughed. �Nothing. I told them I�d like to spend this morning with you. This
will be your last day here, right?� He raised an eyebrow as he stared back at me.

For a long moment, I was mesmerized. I had to blink to get back to the topic and I
said, �Yes, this will be my last day here. And I would love to spend it with them.�

�Come on,� he drawled. �You can spend tomorrow morning with them. Today, I want you
to be prepared for later. And it�s not so wrong to want to spend the morning coffee
with you alone,� he winked as he finished his cup and stood up.

He should really stop these little flirty innuendos with me if he was not going to
take it seriously, I thought bitterly.

After we had our breakfast, we headed to the truck and drove to the farm owned by
Antonio. Yes, he had to be Antonio. He should be.

Wawa didn�t say what time they planned on opening the time capsule or read the
letters. Maybe they planned on waiting on each other for the whole day. Really,
they should have at least noted the time. Specifics are important on appointments
such as this, much more on ones set sixty years in the future.

�If he�s alive, or if he still remembers, he�ll wait,� Erik said on the road.

The caretaker let us in once again, knowing we were on some kind of mission.

�My boss will be here today and he might want to meet the two of you. He likes
making company whenever he�s here,� was the man�s statement that gave me hope that
morning. Antonio would be here.

�I don�t know what to say to him,� I admitted to Erik as we made our way to the
tree.

�I can leave if you want--�

�No!� I cut in, grasping his arm. �No, don�t leave.�

He smiled, took my hand from his arm and squeezed it. �If you say so.�

�What time do you think he�ll be here?� I asked an hour later, circling the tree as
Erik sat on the rock that might have helped it stay on its feet after it had been
rescued from its fall years ago. I was stomping my foot on the ground with each
step that I make.
�Hey, you�re making me dizzy. Settle down, Steph.�

My head was bent and focused on the ground I was stepping on. �I�m trying to find
the spot where he buried it,� I said, tugging my hair behind my ear. �I think I
heard a dull sound around here earlier,� I added.

�Steph,� Erik said beside me. He had stood up and walked to where I was. �Come and
sit here with me,� he said, taking my hand and pulling me to the rock. �Let�s
wait.�

I never liked waiting but I had to. Patience was not a virtue I learned to master
in this journey. I was about to stand up and say yes to the merienda offer made by
the caretaker just a few minutes ago when I saw a figure coming our way. My heart
started to hammer against my chest and I squeezed Erik�s hand. He was dozing off
and his head snapped when he realized what I was seeing.

The figure walking toward us was far from the caretaker�s small figure. And he was
holding in one hand something that looked like a shovel. As he neared and as we had
a good look at him, my eyes widened.

�Antonio,� I whispered.

I heard Erik�s sharp intake of breath. Mine got stuck somewhere in the middle
because I was utterly shocked to the core.

Chapter 32

�I knew you�d be here,� Father Guevarra said with certainty, planting the shovel on
the ground before him.

I didn�t realize my mouth was still open until a sound escaped my throat. �You�� I
finally managed to say an actual word after much struggle. I blinked my eyes and it
seemed that Father Guevarra�s features turned older before me. Yes, he was still as
big as I had remembered him to be when he hugged me in church. �You�re Antonio?� I
bit out with anger. I felt betrayed by him. All along, he knew the story. He knew
everything and he didn�t tell me. He even had the guts to share with me a week ago
that my grandmother once loved a man who broke her heart. And all along, it was
him.

He must have seen the anger in my eyes, the accusing glare I threw at him, because
he looked at me with sadness and regret before he sighed. �It seems that I will
have to tell you the story.�

I shot to my feet. I didn�t even remember Erik had been holding my hand the whole
time and that he remained motionless on the rock he was sitting on. My body was
almost shaking with intense emotion as I looked at the man who broke my
grandmother�s heart. It would have been okay if I didn�t know him, but I did. We
had met twice before and the last time was not something I would even consider a
passing moment. I had shared a piece of my heart with him and he talked to me like
he was nothing but a friend of my grandmother�s.

�Stephanie,� he said, taking a step forward. I stepped back. �Stephanie, you must
understand that things happened the way they should have.�
I didn�t realize that a tear dropped from my eye without rolling down my cheek.
�You broke her heart,� I accused and gave a mocking laugh. �And you became friends
with her long after that. And as a priest!�

Hurt washed over Father Guevarra�s features but he didn�t deny my accusation as he
said, �Yes. And it was difficult for both of us.�

�You bet it was!� I would have screamed the words if my throat was not
constricting, depriving me of enough breath.

�I�m sorry,� Father Guevarra said in a broken whisper, his eyes brimming with
tears. �I loved her dearly I couldn�t marry the girl my parents wanted for me.�

�But you never went back to her. Was it that difficult? You could have saved both
of you a great deal of pain,� I countered, my hands balled into fists.

�I did,� he said strongly, looking me in the eyes. �I did return after I helped my
parents with our problems. But she was marrying Ramon by then.�

I looked at him for a very long time without moving an inch. The only constant
movement was my hair against the gentle wind and the only sound I could hear was
the rustle of the leaves. �So you chose to give your friend his happiness by not
giving my Wawa hers? Is that what you mean?�

He shook his head, his gray hair appearing whiter by the second. �She was planning
a life with Ramon, a life I couldn�t have given her at that time. We had already
said our goodbyes. I had already buried all the hurt we felt in the time capsule.�

�Who are you to say that she just forgot about everything after she wrote you that
letter? How can you be sure that what you did didn�t change her life for the worse?
And how can you be sure that she wouldn�t have been happy to go back to you?�

�Because I was so sure she was moving on with a great man, someone with no
complications. And I knew she was strong enough to be happy again.�

I gave off an incredulous luck. �How could two people be so stupid?� I asked no one
in particular, brushing the tears with the back of my hand.

Father Guevarra looked behind me where Erik was sitting and I turned to him. It was
only then, by looking at Erik�s eyes, that I had said too much. His gaze was
telling me to listen and give the man some slack. I turned back to Father Guevarra
and uttered, �I�m sorry.�

�No,� he said, raising one hand. �I understand and I�m glad that you feel that
way.�

A frown formed on my face.

Antonio gave a small smile. �It only means that you have come to know more about
your grandmother as you planned. You are feeling her pain and I understand it very
much. I had been through it as well.� He let go of the shovel where it stayed
standing and slowly approached me with careful steps. �But I also want you to know
how we managed to deal with the pain after all of that, Stephanie.� He took my hand
and I let him. He squeezed it. �Corazon had long dealt with the pain when she
learned to love Ramon. She learned how to accept it when her daughters came along.�
He looked into my eyes. �And she had forgotten about it when you came into this
world.�

�She hasn�t even got to see me in person.�

�One thing I learned from my life in the seminary is that you don�t need the actual
physical presence of someone to know that they bring you happiness and contentment.
Most of the time, we just need to feel it in our heart. Sometimes, it is enough to
know that the one you love is happy and that sooner or later you will meet.�

I felt the back of his finger gently wipe the tear off my cheek. �Is that what you
did? Is that how you recovered?�

Antonio nodded. �But I guess your grandmother figured it out faster than I did. It
took me more years to finally accept that we were not meant to be.� He let me go
and walked near the tree, just beside Erik who was still as silent as a mute. With
both hands clasped behind him, Antonio looked up at the Nara tree and smiled. When
his eyes returned to mine, he said, �When Cora and Ramon finally got married, I
entered the seminary. It was the only escape I could think of at that time. I
didn�t want anybody else but Cora and it seemed that all I had left was God.� He
started pacing. Erik and I followed him with a solemn gaze. I just realized that I
was hearing another side of the story, the story of the man who broke my
grandmother�s heart. �The seminary had been my sanctuary, my haven. It taught me
how to let go and accept that God has far greater things for me. As years went by,
I realized I found a home and a great part of myself that doesn�t have anything to
do with Cora at all and I found it in the presence of God. I found comfort despite
the pain and longing.� He had been looking at the ground as he said it and when I
thought he was done, he looked up and stared at me with those gentle, laughing eyes
of his. �Most of all, I learned to forgive myself.�

I swallowed as more tears poured from my eyes and I started to shake. At the corner
of my eye, I saw Erik shot to his feet but Father Guevarra was faster. He was
embracing me in an instant and despite my initial resentment toward him earlier, I
let him. My hands were covering my face as he enveloped me in his big embrace.

That moment, I promised myself that it would be the last time I would cry for my
grandmother�s pain. It would be the last time that I would see her story as one
with a tragic end. Along with the tears, I washed all negative thoughts away
because I was certain that my grandmother wouldn�t want me to hate Antonio. She
wouldn�t want me to feel that hers was the only pain in this story. She would tell
me that she had her own shortcomings along with everyone else. In their own ways,
they miserably failed themselves. And in their own ways, they managed to forgive
themselves and each other and moved on with their lives. And I should too. I should
let go of the pain I felt for them.

It was much later that the tears finally slowed down and when they did, I gently
pushed myself away from Father Guevarra or Antonio or whoever he might want to be
called, and composed myself. Erik was beside me in a flash, holding out a
handkerchief.

�I think I�m okay now,� I uttered, my nose clogging.

�I think you should blow your nose first,� Erik said in a lighter tone. I threw him
a stingy look but did what he said. Father Guevarra gave a soft chuckle as he
walked back to the shovel.

�What do you feel about opening a time capsule from sixty years ago?�

Slowly, a smile crept up my face. I was determined to actually feel happy about
this whole thing. I had made it this far. I had been through a lot just to be here
and somehow I felt proud of myself. And I was certain my grandmother was proud of
me, too. She must be clapping her hands up there somewhere, cheering me on. My
mother would be beside her with my aunt, eating popcorns. Stephanie Sy managed to
survive weeks of peril and now she was at the end of her journey.

�Just one more question,� I asked as Antonio led the way to where he buried the
time capsule.

�Yes?� he asked, his face and tone back to the Father Guevarra that I knew.

�How long did you decide to meet my grandmother again since you entered the
seminary?�

He stopped and appeared to count in his head. �Thirty years.�

�What?� Erik asked in awe beside me.

�That long? Why?� I asked incredulously.

Father Guevarra grinned. �Sometimes, it is better for two people to grow up apart
for a while than to stay and grow indifferent together. In our case, I thought that
we both had to grow up for us to meet again and when we did, we didn�t need words
to explain what happened in our lives. We just accepted things the way they had
turned out to be and then we started all over again as friends.� There was a happy
smile on his face as he said it. I believed he was happy. I may not have understood
how they came to accept things, but I didn�t have to. For me, the pain was fresh,
but for them, it was just a distant memory.

The time capsule was buried in the exact place I had suspected earlier. I insisted
that Erik should dig the ground but the priest said that my grandmother would make
fun of him when they met in heaven for being too frail. And so, with painstaking
patience, Erik and I watched him dig up the ground.

His shirt was already drenched with sweat by the time he let go of the shovel and
wiped his forehead. I was almost afraid he�d have a heart attack right there and
then. It would truly prove how tragic their story was if that ever happened. But it
didn�t because Antonio went down to his knee and looked down the small hole he had
dug up. It was about two by three feet in size and two feet deep.

�Young man,� he said to Erik with glinting eyes. �I think I�ll need your help this
time.�

Erik immediately jumped to his feet and walked to where the man was kneeling down.
�I see your problem here, Father,� he grinned.

Curious, I followed to where they were and gasped. �That�s one hell of a time
capsule.�

Below us was a one-foot iron box with what appeared to be a hinged handle above it.
At first, you wouldn�t notice it was there because it was covered with thick, solid
mud and I was pretty sure it was seriously rusted. Personally, I thought it would
take another shovel to get them off.

�It is quite heavy, too,� Antonio uttered with a nod. �We can haul it up together,�
he told Erik and they did just that for another minute or two.

When they finally managed to bring the iron box out of its hiding place, they
dropped it on the ground with a grunt.

�I forgot the iron cutter,� Antonio said as his hand touched the unmovable padlock.
�I�m pretty sure the key won�t work. I�ll be back.�
As he walked away, Erik and I stared at the box again.

�It�s too old,� I said with awe.

�You�re excited to read the letters?� he asked.

I considered his question for a long time before I answered. �I don�t know, Erik.
Now that I�m here, I don�t think I want to read them.�

He frowned. �You�re not curious what they say?�

�I am very curious, but I don�t think I can read them. I mean it�s theirs. They�ve
waited sixty years for these letters. It feels like cheating on my part. I skipped
sixty years and for most part of it, I was not even born yet. It just feels wrong.�

I heard him take a deep breath and let it go with a heavy sigh. �Well, that�s
disappointing.�

�Shut up,� I said with a smile.

When I looked up at him, he was looking at me with a smile. �I�m proud of you
today. I know it is not easy when you found out Father Guevarra is Antonio.�

A faint smile crept up my face. �I actually wanted to dig a hole in the ground with
that shovel and bury him alive,� I jested.

�It�s not too late,� he added.

We laughed together and he took me in his arms, gently planting a kiss on my

forehead. �You did great, Steph. Congratulations.�

My arms wound around him and I pressed my cheek closer against his chest. It felt
like it was the most natural thing to do, hugging him. And it also felt like it
would be the last time. I�d be going home soon and Erik would be staying behind in
Negros, in a place he loved dearly, while I would be going home with nothing but my
grandmother�s diary and the letter she was supposed to read but would never get a
hold of.

I stepped away from Erik�s embrace when I saw Antonio coming back and as he neared,
he gave me a meaningful look. I ignored it and stepped back as he made his way to
the time capsule to cut the padlock.

My heart started to beat faster against my chest when it finally broke and Antonio
started to lift the lid. It was not easy a task, but the anticipation I felt as he
and Erik struggled with the lid was even harder to deal with. They used the shovel
to help them and when it finally gave way, my breathing paused. There, lying inside
the box was a sheet of plastic that had aged in time. And inside were papers neatly
folded.

�It�s a good thing I thought of the plastic,� Antonio said, breaking the silence.
�Steph? Would you do the honor?�

Frozen in my spot, I shook my head. �No,� I croaked. �They�re your letters. You
should do it.�

It was like being tempted to touch a Da Vinci artwork, but I didn�t grab the
chance. It belonged to two people and neither of them was me. Antonio nodded and
bent down to pick up the sheet of plastic. It easily broke off and in no time, he
was holding sheets of paper in his hand. At first I feared the papers would break
and turn to tiny pieces, even ashes, what with their age. I almost suggested
tweezers to Antonio to hold them instead of his hands. But they seemed sturdy as he
studied them, his eyes gone back to the past.

Two sets of letters, one in each hand. Slowly, Antonio extended his right hand,
handing me one letter. �This is the letter I wrote for her,� he said with a smile.

�I don�t want to read it,� I answered in a rush.

�You can keep it until you�re ready. I wouldn�t mind if you read it and I�m sure
Cora won�t either.�

I nodded and reached out my hand. Of course it felt like any ordinary paper. There
were only three pages folded together, but I was not ready to read them yet. Maybe
in time I would, but not today.

�Will you excuse me?� Antonio asked, gesturing with his hand holding the letter.

�Of course,� Erik and I uttered in unison and he walked back toward the tree and
sat on the rock facing the mountains. We watched him open the letter and started
reading.

�Please hold this for me,� I told Erik when I felt that I couldn�t hold on to the
letter too long without ruining it. He took it from my hand, his right arm going
around my shoulders and squeezing me tight against him.

Antonio took his precious time with my grandmother�s letter and he did so again
just staring at the mountains before him after he was done. When he finally stood
up and turned to us, his eyes were full of tears. He didn�t look hurt, but he was
surely sad. He wiped his face while he took the remaining steps to where Erik and I
were standing.

�Do you want to read it?� he asked me.

Again, that tempting feeling washed over me. �No,� I answered. I knew that reading
that letter would give me more idea of what my grandmother was like back then, but
that letter was not written for me. �She wrote it for you. She wanted you to read
it, not share it,� I added.

Antonio nodded and smiled. �Thank you, Stephanie. I�m sure your grandmother is very
proud of you.�

�I hope she�s not too proud to appear in my room later tonight,� I chided.

The priest laughed and said, �Why don�t we get some snacks?�

�I�d love that,� I answered with a smile.

Chapter 33

Father Guevarra owned a modest home. Since he did not marry the girl he was
supposed to years ago, they were forced to sell a big portion of their land. He
entered the seminary and took over the farm when he became a priest. His parents
died years later.

We ate our snacks of suman and coffee just outside the house where a wooden gazebo
stood. Our topic ranged from the weather to the small things that happened to him
in the past. He also talked about how my grandmother used to come to him to talk
about almost anything. We were careful not to talk too much of their past though
because I knew that they knew I was still sensitive about the topic.

Erik was a big help to make the conversation easy. He knew just what to say at the
right moment and he knew when to do it.

When we were done with our food, Erik volunteered to help the caretaker clean up.
For the first time since we arrived, Father Guevarra and I were left alone.

Both of us were staring after Erik and the caretaker as they carried the trays back
to the house. �Have you told him how you feel?� was the question that finally took
the smile off my face.

�Father, please, I don�t want to talk about it,� I said.

�Why?� he asked with a smile, his face curious. �It�s too obvious, Stephanie.�

I felt my face flush. �I can�t.�

�Or won�t?�

�Both.�

�I say you do what you really want to do before it is too late,� he said, leaning
against his chair, looking ahead where the tree was. The shovel and the time
capsule were still there, untouched as we left them.

�You�re saying that from experience, Father, but I don�t think I am in the same
situation as you were before.�

�No, not really, but it still boils down to one thing: love. I loved Corazon and
she loved me. We didn�t fight too hard, did we?� he turned his gaze to me and this
time, his eyes were serious. �I suggest you at least try to fight for it.�

�Let me remind you father that you are talking to a woman. Are you trying to push a
woman to do the first move?�

He laughed. �Love doesn�t know age, gender or race, Stephanie. But it knows time.
It�s about the perfect timing. And I think the perfect timing is anytime of the day
that you feel love. So every time you feel it, show it and say it. I�m sure Corazon
would agree to that.�

Well, I knew she would. The old lady surely didn�t realize that time was closing in
on her. She didn�t realize that time was about to close its doors before she could
even reach out to her daughter and to me. Sure, Wawa would definitely agree that I
should grab every chance I could get.

But it was easier said than done. Just the thought of me staring at Erik and
telling him how I felt was unimaginable. I couldn�t say the words without the
feeling of security and assurance that I would not be hurt after.

�I will think about it,� I told Father Guevarra just so he would stop pestering me.

�At your own time, Stephanie. At your own time,� he uttered with a series of small
nods. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. �I hope you visit me soon in the
future.�

�That�s a good idea. I�ll let you know beforehand,� I said, too happy to change the
subject.

When Erik and I finally left three hours later, we were silent.

I knew I was for a lot of reasons and one of them was the fact that I would be
leaving soon.

�So�� Erik finally broke the silence. He shot me a glance and I looked at him in
anticipation. This was the perfect time for him to beg me to stay for more days or
weeks or even months. And I would consider more years if he would just say it right
there and then. �You�re leaving?� All hopes died down with those words.

�Yeah,� I answered as strongly as I could manage. I turned my head to look out the
window.

�When?�

Was he that eager to get rid of me? �I think I�ll need to buy myself a ticket
first,� I uttered, �Which reminds me that I have to call my father.� I tried to
ignore the hurt I was feeling as I worked on my phone. Not one cell of my body
wanted to leave just yet, but I wouldn�t stay either if no one would stop me. And
as far as I was concerned, not a soul had asked me to not leave Negros yet.

�Can we go back to Bacolod tomorrow?� I asked while we were having dinner.

Erik just looked at me as he swallowed his food. �I guess so. I think I�ve done the
important things this week. When are you leaving?�

That question again. Why did he have to ask the wrong ones? �Sunday,� I answered
and sighed. I tried to sound disappointed as I added, �I wish I could leave
earlier, but all flights are full.� Honestly, I lied. I could go home tomorrow if I
wanted to, but I wanted to buy some time. Stupid of me to wish he would stop me,
right? But I did have that wish at the back of my mind when I called my secretary
to book me the ticket.

Erik just nodded and after a few spoons of tinola and rice, he looked up and asked,
�Hey, Rock asked if you would like to attend a charity event on Tuesday. I�ll take
you.�

�What charity event?�

�It�s for the education of the girls and boys we are sponsoring. You should attend
and give a big donation,� he beamed.

�You sponsor scholarships?� I asked in awe.

He nodded. �Ever since Rock came here, she thought of the idea when she met Didoi
and the other kids. They are our scholars,� he explained.

Great. I spent a week here and I had not even thought of putting up a foundation
for the kids. Great Rock.

�Sure, I�ll attend.�

�Great! Then we can tour Bacolod more for the week before you leave. There are far
greater places you haven�t been to.�

I just smiled and nodded my head. I didn�t think I could bear another week in his
company. That would be very masochistic of me.

Leaving Don Salvador was harder than I thought. Didoi, Jay-r and Jojo came by to
say goodbye and to make it all worse, they stood outside the truck as Erik drove
away. I had my last morning coffee with the farmers today and they all bid me
farewell with a lot of food for the way home.

I was sniffing the moment we reached the main road, thinking I should have stolen
the hammock. Really, I should have. Erik wouldn�t find out until I was gone.

�You�re such a crybaby,� he uttered with a laugh.

�Shut up,� I whispered, sniffing and wiping my eyes.

�It�s not like you won�t see them again. You can always come back.�

That was not going to happen. I wouldn�t put myself in so much hurt by coming back.
It would take years for me to recover.

I took in everything we passed by in memory--every green field, every carabao, and

every freaking sugarcane truck. I would need something to hang on to when I got
back home to remind myself that I did not just have a very long dream.

By the time we reached Bacolod, it was already dark. Manang June immediately
prepared dinner for us which we ate with gusto.

�What should I wear?� I asked Erik as we ate the suman one of the farmers gave us.

�A simple dress will suffice,� he answered.

My mind was already reeling, mentally emptying my mustard suitcase upstairs.

Tomorrow would be the final attempt to impress Erik. I knew he didn�t want
something too classy. I had known him enough to be sure of that so I had to be
careful with my clothing.

After dinner, Erik retired to bed, saying his was tired. I went back to my mother�s
old room and opened my suitcase. I thought I didn�t bring enough when I packed for
a three-day stay in Bacolod a month ago, but seeing everything right now was a
shocker. I hadn�t even used half of the dresses I brought with me!

I picked a simple black-and-white tube dress and hanged it inside the cabinet. The
black pumps I wore during the funeral were the perfect match so I brought them out
as well. I picked a simple pair of earrings and necklace to finish the look I was
aiming for and went to bed.

I rummaged my bag and found my grandmother�s diary. Antonio�s letter was inside.
Erik had given it to me the night we came back from Father Guevarra�s farm and I
never thought of it again. As a matter of fact, they never crossed my mind until
now.
The familiar pang in my chest was still there but along with it was the feeling of
amusement. I couldn�t believe, that after all these years, the letters had
survived. They had witnessed time pass by and finally, they were back to where they
belonged. My Wawa�s letter was now in Antonio�s hands. His was in the diary, the
only thing I thought it had to be. The urge to read it was too tempting as I held
it in my hand. All I had to do was flip it and read.

But I didn�t. I couldn�t.

Wawa had died waiting for this letter and I wouldn�t take the honor of reading it
first. She would have to read it when we meet. Well, I hope it would not be too
soon, but when that time came, I would give it to her with pride saying, �I didn�t
open it, Wawa. You read it first and then tell me about it.�

I ran the pages of the diary through my thumb and watched Wawa�s old handwriting
flash before my eyes. I had read every page like it was the holy bible. And as I
had said before, I had my favorite entries which I read over again until I fell
asleep, dreaming about the young Antonio and Corazon under a tree in Dumaguete
City, smiling at each other, oblivious of the future ahead of them.

�You look great,� Erik had said a lot of times inside the truck as we drove to
L�Fisher Hotel where the event was to be held, and he said it again while we walked
to the main entrance.

�I am so underdressed,� I uttered as I saw an old lady with a glittering shawl

enter the main lobby.

Erik huffed out a breath as he looked me over once again. My hair was tied in a
simple bun. My eyes were the only part of my face with heavy makeup. The dress was
good, but not great if you would compare it with the ones the others were wearing.
�You look beautiful,� he uttered, his eyes landing on mine. �Now, can we get
inside?� he took my hand and pulled me to where people were coming in.

Easy for him to say! He was dressed in an awesome black suit and dark-gray tie.
Somewhere along his rugged feature and the classy look of his clothing was
perfectness. I just couldn�t point out what made his look great. It could be the
suit and tie, or it could just be plain Erik and his charms.

I didn�t see a lot of young people, or people that were close to my age. We met a
few of Erik and Rock�s friends, the one we had a karaoke with. Some of them came to
me to talk and ask how I was doing and somewhere along the course of the evening I
was pulled from one cocktail table to the next by my newfound friends. Erik would
appear and disappear from time to time, but he would always find his way back. I
knew he felt responsible for me.

Rock was gorgeous in her white cocktail dress and bubbly smile. She asked if I
liked the food which her restaurant prepared, of course, and I said yes. She spent
almost an hour talking to me about my travels and my business, one that we never
talked about before.

The program was very short and I liked it. It was not dragging like the ones I had
attended before. There was no long narration about the history of the foundation.
The members just went up the stage to introduce themselves and present the children
they were sponsoring through the monitor they prepared on stage. I saw Didoi, Jay-r
and Jojo�s faces flash before my eyes and I wanted to cry again. I missed those
kids. I wonder what they were doing now. They must be asleep, dreaming about the
games they would play the next day.
When it was all over, the real fun began. The dancing started and old songs started
to play. I was not ignorant of old songs since I had always attended parties with
old people when I was growing up. My father would always bring me to such events
and I learned to enjoy them. Nothing would beat old people dancing with jazz music
in the background.

Rock introduced me to her cousin, Paulo, who was a doctor in one of the hospitals
in Bacolod. Paulo asked me to dance which I obliged with a laugh. I would never say
no to a dance with Save the Last Dance as the music.

Paulo was actually nice and we talked about almost anything. I always thought
doctors were stiff and boring, but he was not exactly that. In fact, he was very
fun. And he was very good-looking--the clean-shaven kind of good-looking. Someone
you would want to sniff just to see if they actually smelled as nice as they looked
kind of good-looking. He never mentioned his life inside the hospital. Instead, he
talked about the places he had been and I enjoyed our conversation greatly,
especially when I noticed that Erik was not looking good when he approached us. He
gave Paulo a quick handshake and turned to me, �Are you cool?�

�Of course! Paulo is a great company and do you know that he goes diving?�

He frowned. �Of course. We dive together.�

�Well, you never mentioned it,� I said, turning my attention back to Rock�s cousin.
Erik started to leave and I let him. He could do whatever he wanted. �Where else
did you dive?�

�There you are!� Rock cried out behind Paulo before the man could open his mouth to
answer my question. She came right to her cousin and pulled at his hand. �You have
to dance this one with me,� she cried out. �I�ll borrow him for a moment, Steph!�

And then they were off, with Paulo scratching his head, to the dance floor.

I turned to see where Erik was and I was surprised that he got that far away. He
was talking to one of the old couples who attended the party and then I saw his
eyes go to where Rock was dancing with Paulo. For almost three minutes, I stood
there watching him watching her.

Michael Bubl�s Best of Me started playing and the lights went dimmer. Rock was
still dancing with her cousin and I watched Erik look on, his eyes staring at her
lovingly. I swallowed the tears that wanted to come out and composed myself. Just
as when I was about to look away, Erik turned his head and caught my eyes. His
expression changed to that boyish smile he would usually wear toward me.

I wanted him to throw me the same smile he would give Rock. I smiled back and
looked away but at the corner of my eye, I saw him walk to where I was standing
alone. When he was a about a foot away, I turned and pretended to be surprised with
his sudden appearance.

�Shall we dance?�

Three simple words that made my heart leap. I had been asked to dance many times I
lost count but it was the first time that I wanted to say yes before the last word
was spoken. It was one of my favorite songs. I had wanted to dance it with someone
special. It was the right moment for me. He was the right one. If only he felt the
same.

�You know what I like the most about this song?� I asked as we faced each other to
dance. He took my left hand in his right, his left behind my back and my right on
his shoulder. We didn�t have to follow any complicated steps. We just danced to the
rhythm of the song.

�The lyrics,� he answered just beside my ear and I nodded. He gently pulled me
closer and I leaned my forehead against his right shoulder. I was thankful for the
dark dance floor because I felt I could steal this moment with Erik without
everybody else looking, without Rock seeing.

So many years gone, still I remember

How did I ever let my heart believe

In one who never gave enough to me?

And so many years gone, love that was so wrong

I can�t forget the way it used to be

And how you changed the taste of love for me

�You were my one more chance I never thought I�d find,� Erik started to hum. His
voice was barely a whisper, but I could still make out the words of the song from
his lips near my ear. �You were the one romance I�ve always known in my mind. No
one could ever touch me more�� he continued, each word becoming faint by each
second, �I only hope that in return I might have saved the best of me for you�� and
then he did the most unexpected thing by pushing me away and twirled me around
slowly, his right hand guiding me.

I gently laughed as he pulled me back in his arm. His head bent and I could feel
his smile as our cheeks touched.

Oh God, why did he have to be so wonderful?

Chapter 34

When the music stopped and the lights went back again, I excused myself. I needed
to be alone for a while, even for just a few minutes.

�Sure,� Erik said, adding, �I need to do something. I�ll see you here.�

When he left, I turned to find something to do. I was on my way to get another
drink when I saw Erik approach Rock and they talked for a while before he ushered
her out of the room.

I frowned. Where are they going?

Mentally shaking myself, I fought the urge to follow them. Whatever they planned to
do, I was not invited. But I couldn�t help myself from thinking of the different
scenarios that they might be into.
They�re really close, of course they would want to be alone, I reasoned.

And that was why it brought a pang to my chest. The time I had with Erik could not
be compared to the time she had with him. She had seen him at his worst and she was
there when he got through his dark days. I couldn�t very well compete with that.

It was not more than ten minutes later when Erik reappeared. Rock followed five
minutes after, smiling like she had won the lottery.

What the hell happened? I asked inside my head.

If there was something going on between them, why couldn�t they just show everyone?
They were both single, weren�t they? It pissed me off to think that they were
actually stealing precious moments together when they could just be open about it.

But then, again, I didn�t know their whole story. There might be complications I
was not aware of. And it was none of my business.

I saw Rock go to a lady friend and the two of them disappeared from the hall,
excitement in each of their strides. And then I saw Erik coming near to where I was
standing.

�Hey,� Erik said as he approached me. �Did I keep you waiting? Sorry, I had to talk
to Rock about something important.�

�No, you didn�t keep me waiting. And you don�t have to explain anything,� I
couldn�t help but add.

He looked at me intently. �Are you sure you�re okay?�

�Yes,� I snapped. �Can you get this? I need to go to the ladies room.� I gave him
my glass of wine and walked away before he could open his mouth. I walked out of
the hall to find the ladies room and I was just about to turn the corner when I
heard Rock�s familiar voice laughing. She was talking to her friend, the one she
approached to earlier.

�Well, it�s a good thing the both of you finally talked about it,� her friend said.
�You have been dancing around the same tune for years. It�s about time, Rock.�

I heard Rock�s deep, happy sigh. �I still can�t believe it. Can you? I mean, both
of us had been afraid all this time, thinking about the friendship.�

�But you�re happy, right?�

Rock took her precious time before she answered, �Yes! Very!�

�Well, then, you better be ready for that first date.�

�I�m getting nervous as it is��

I couldn�t bear to hear another word so I stumbled back at my feet and walked far
away. The tears started rushing and I had to find a place to let them go freely.

�I want to go home,� I told Erik when I finally gathered the courage to go back
inside the hall. The surprise on his face was apparent.

�Are you sure you�re okay?� he asked.

�Yes, I�m just tired,� I lied.

�It�s still early, Steph, but if--�

�Fine. I�ll go home myself,� I snapped at him and turned away.

�Hey!� he called out behind me but I did not dare look back. I wanted to get out of
there as soon as I could.

I told the doorman to get me a taxi and as he went off to get me a ride, I stood
there alone, my tears ready to jump out of my eyes but I held them. I couldn�t cry
right now in self-pity. Just as when I was about ready to ask the other doorman
about the taxi, Erik�s truck stopped in front of me.

�Steph, let�s go,� he said gently after he opened the window.

I just looked at him.

�Come on, we�ll go home. I�m tired as well,� he urged.

�Fine,� I said and turned to the doorman. �Manong, cancel that taxi.�

�Are you sure you�re okay?� Erik asked once again the moment I climbed inside. He
had already freed himself of his suit and threw it at the back of the truck.

�Yes. I�m just tired.�

�You want ice cream?� he asked, loosening his tie.

�What?� I couldn�t focus what with his tousled hair, ruggedly handsome face, and
that nearly undressed slash ready-to-jump-in-bed state.

�Ice cream. You want one?�

�I�m not a child.� Of course, I was no longer a child. I was slowly unbuttoning his
shirt in my mind for Christ�s sake!

He laughed. �I know. But I am craving for one.�

�Fine.�

We drove to the nearest Munsterific. He jumped out of the truck and when he got
back, he was carrying two sundae cones. He handed me one and we silently licked our
ice cream.

�Now, you have to pay for that ice cream,� he said when I threw the bottom part of
the cone inside my mouth.

�What?!� I asked incredulously.

He tapped his cheek with his forefinger, his eyebrows dancing at me. �Payment.�

�You�re kidding, right?� He just asked Rock on a date and now he was asking me to
give him a kiss? What the hell was wrong with him?

�Payment,� he repeated. �Come on, Steph. Not everything�s for free.�

I sighed and leaned over just to get it over with. Just as when my lips were about
to touch ground on his cheek, his head turned and our lips collided. He gave me a
loud smack and laughed when he saw my appalled look.

�Thanks,� he laughingly stated as he started the truck.

�See you tomorrow,� Erik said with a yawn when we reached the top of the stairs of
my grandmother�s home.

�Yeah,� I whispered and watched him walk to his room. When he disappeared behind
the door, I hesitated. I took one step toward my room and stopped. Gathering all
courage, I whirled around and walked to his door.

I lifted my knuckles to knock but at the last second, decided against it.

�Erik,� I tried, but my voice was dry. I cleared my throat and tried again. �Erik,�
and it was a success. �No, please, don�t open the door,� I added when I heard his
bed squeak inside the room. �I just want to tell you something and I think I can
only manage to do it behind this door.� There was no answer from him, just utter
silence. I gulped and looked up, trying hard to push back the tears welling in my
eyes. �I know this will sound crazy, but I just can�t go without telling you. God,
this is difficult,� I uttered. I heard his bed squeak once again and I took hold of
the doorknob and pulled in case he tried to open it saying, �Please, don�t open the
door. Just hear me out first.�

When no sound came again, I gathered every last bit of courage I could muster. My
grandmother never had the chance to really fight for her love. On the other hand, I
did have the chance to fight. All I had to do was to gather the courage to say the
words. �I just want to tell you something and if your answer is no, don�t open
this door. Just let me leave thinking you don�t feel the same.� I paused to see if
he would dare turn the knob. I pulled harder with both hands. �I love you,� I
whispered. �I don�t know if our kisses meant anything to you, but they made me feel
like I was special. They make me feel special.� The silence at his side of the door
was not what I wanted so thinking he might not have heard it, I repeated, �I love
you. There. I�ve said it.�

I waited for another squeak of the bed but none came. Slowly, I dropped my hands to
my sides and watched the knob. I waited in painful silence for it to turn but
nothing happened. At that moment, my heart died a slow agonizing death. Every fiber
of my body screamed for Erik to turn the knob, open the door and pull me in. But
everything was still except the tears that rolled down my cheeks. I nodded my head
as I swallowed the whimper that escaped my lips, finally realizing I did all I
could do for now. I finally understood why my grandmother did not fight further. It
hurt like hell and fighting a battle I didn�t know I could win brought fear inside
me. I couldn�t fight further if the pain would be greater. �Okay.� My voice
quivered as I said it. ��Bye, Erik.�

I couldn�t stay another day in Bacolod. I would have to go home first thing in the
morning.

Chapter 35

When I landed in NAIA, I felt lost. The place was very familiar, but why did I get
the feeling that it was not right? Everything was strange for me.

My father picked me up from the airport and as we made our way through the busy
streets, fighting traffic, I looked out the window.

�You should stop this habit of frequently changing your mind, Steph,� he said in a
lighter tone. �You said you�re going home Sunday. Today�s Wednesday.�

�An emergency happened in one of the caf�s,� I lied.

�I hope you enjoyed your stay in Negros. You were there for more than a month,� my
father said, changing the subject.

�Yes, I did,� I answered absently.

�And you gained some weight, I tell you,� he said it with a laugh.

I smiled. �You can blame the food.�

�But really. You look good.�

�Thanks,� I said with a faint smile.

That night, I went out. I wanted to think I missed everything I left behind. I
called everyone I could and they were all happy to say yes.

I became busy prepping myself for the night. I spent a lot of time for my makeup
but there was just something about the routine that was off. My mind couldn�t
justify why I was thinking about Lara, the woman who got married in Erik�s farm,
and how I did her makeup. Still, despite the little memories that kept coming back
to me, I forced myself to be done with it and go back to my life. I buttoned every
button, zipped every zipper, clipped every clip and went out with old bar-hopping
friends, the ones whose company I enjoyed months ago.

We went to the usual spots with me back in my heels, mini-dress and makeup.

�Where do you want to go next?� asked Liz, one of my best bar-hopping buddies.

�Let�s go to Timog,� answered one of the guys whose name I always forget.

�That�s a long drive,� uttered another.

�Why don�t we go find a KTV? It would be fun.� I suggested innocently.

They all looked at me, then at each other and laughed.

�Steph, we didn�t dress up just to sing in front of each other,� Liz said
dismissively and they went on talking about possible hot spots for a party.

I forced a smile on my face. I should stop thinking about KTV and singing. As a
matter of fact, I should totally forget everything about stupid songs, especially
ones by Air Supply.

As much as I wanted to, it was not that easy. Being home was not what I had
imagined it to be when I first came to Negros. Sure, I didn�t find it hard to get
back to work and manage the coffee shops again, but it was not the same for my
social life.
My friends would invite me to a party and at first, I would go. I would act like I
had never left, but I would always say something that would struck them dumb.

They would gently brush my ideas away as if I gave a funny joke.

And then there was this guy I had always liked, Gino. We had always exchanged
flirty remarks back then and I finally decided to give him a hint that I was
available to go out on a date. He asked and I said yes, eager to be with someone
who didn�t have tousled hair, bristles and a boyish laugh; someone who didn�t wear
dirty hiking shoes or sneakers, tattered baseball cap and a stupid, wicked grin.

Gino took me to a classy restaurant, one I had always moaned missing when I was in
Negros.

Gino was like the other guys I dated in the past. He was clean-shaven, his hair was
neatly in place, his collared shirt was definitely ironed, the black slacks
obviously upscale, and his shoes had certainly not come face to face with mud.

In short, our date started okay until I did the mortal mistake of comparing.

He was blabbering about how he enjoyed his travels outside the country, most
especially Paris, when I asked him, �How about camping?�

He looked at me and frowned. �Camping?�

�Do you go camping?�

�No, not really. I can�t even set up a tent.�

And ten minutes later, he was just in the middle of narrating his experience in
Macau when I blurted out, �What do you drive?�

�Sorry?�

�You have a truck?�

�You know I don�t,� he snorted. He was looking at me as if he was trying to decide

if he was seeing an apparition or not. We had known each other for years (though
not in a very personal level) and I knew that it was the first time he was baffled
by my words.

�A truck is actually a practical ride, you know.�

�Uh-huh,� he said, sipping his wine.

�You can put almost everything in it. I met someone back in Bacolod and he has this
truck. It was pretty cool. But it actually broke down on us a couple of times.�

�Yeah?�

I nodded. �We actually ended up camping in a mountain resort because the truck
wouldn�t start. And then there was this one time when we had to hitch a ride on a
sugarcane truck just to get to the nearest town to buy some parts��

And the date was over. I knew it was the moment I asked my first question. If
it was two months ago, I would have already pictured myself travelling to the
places Gino was talking about or doing the things he shared to me. But at that
moment, I just couldn�t. What I was thinking doing was not with him.
Weeks went by with me trying to fit back into the circle, but I eventually gave up.
I didn�t feel like going to some crazy, loud bars. Maybe I needed more time for
myself to adjust.

But adjust I didn�t. Everything I saw as I drove to my office daily were jeepneys
and along with them were memories of me and Erik riding one. And then I would see
buses and I would remember that time we had to ride one to rescue his truck. Even
police officers reminded me of my night in that prison cell!

And then there were my flats which I just couldn�t get the courage to throw away.
They were too worn out to wear but I would still go out wearing them to the office.
And my fifty-peso slippers were my new bedroom footwear.

The worse part for me was the longing that I felt whenever I would enter my coffee
shop. It reminded me of the days when I would wake up in the farm and be greeted
with a morning brew. Sometimes, at night, I would be tempted to gather my pillows
and sleep on the floor just because I missed the thin foam of the bed I used in the
farm. Taking a shower took a little of getting used to as well. I would find myself
reaching down for a tabo and I had to remind myself that the shower was working.

I gave myself a week to recover from my vacation hangover but it failed.

It was when I started to actually miss the smell of rotting sugarcane and carabao
dung that I decided to leave and take another vacation. Far from the city, far from
everything.

�Hey, Father, it�s me, Steph,� I greeted when the old man picked up his phone.
�Listen, I�m thinking of having a nice private vacation and I wonder if--�

�You don�t have to ask me anything, Stephanie. Just get here.�

�Please don�t tell a soul.�

I almost understood the silence from his other side. I knew he was thinking I
didn�t want other people from Bacolod to know that I would be coming back. And I
knew he knew why.

A week later, I was once again back in Negros. This time, it was to deal with
myself and no one else. I didn�t stay in Father Guevarra�s farm. Instead, he called
a friend in Guimaras who owned a mountain resort. I was not ready to be near Erik�s
farm yet so I eagerly jumped on the pump boat which took me to the island of
Guimaras.

The air around me was cool and the smell of the wind reminded me of the days I
spent in Negros.

Have you ever been in that moment when everything around you felt familiar? The
smell in the air, the wind against your skin, the sound of the rushing leaves as
they rustle in the trees? But then you look around and you realize you are alone
and you are only experiencing a memory you wish you can relive over and over again?
It was that moment for me. I was in a place I had never been before. I took the
courage to travel on my own to forget and to find purpose in my life. Achieving
your goals will never be enough. You would always want something and it is sad when
it is something you cannot have--when it already belongs to someone else.

Maybe this was also how Wawa felt when she learned Antonio became a priest. She may
have finally realized she could never have him. He was destined to be with someone
no one could ever defeat.

It was not the fact that hurt the most. It was the longing. My heart longed for a
man I could never have--a man I never had the courage to fight hard for just
because I was afraid of more pain.

I picked up Wawa�s diary. I had read every word of every page. I could memorize in
full detail everything she did for her family, for Antonio and for herself.

�What do I do, Wawa?� I talked to her for the first time. �What do I do?� I asked
again as the tears rolled down my face.

Around me was the wonder of nature that I couldn�t seem to appreciate at the
moment. I wanted to go home but where was home? I knew in my heart where I wanted
to be but they were a pair of arms that would never welcome me with love.

He must have already forgotten me by now, I told myself for the hundredth time.

I wanted to curse myself. I should be back on my feet fighting whatever fight I

still had left in Manila. The coffee shops surely had a lot of things needed like
my undivided attention.

After a week alone in the resort, Father Guevarra visited me.

At first, I was afraid he would talk to me about Erik. I was afraid he would push
me to do what my heart wanted. But he didn�t.

What he did was be a great company. He became a friend I talked to about life and
stories of my childhood. If Wawa didn�t have the chance to know me, then I guess it
wouldn�t hurt if Antonio did. He could share my stories with my grandmother and the
rest of the family when they met in the future (not that I was hoping Antonio would
come see them soon).

In turn, Antonio shared to me stories of how he managed to survive the seminary. He

told me about his friendship with my grandmother when they met thirty years later.

For the week that he stayed with me in Guimaras, he became an important part of my
life.

I decided to stay for two more weeks, much to my father�s disappointment. He sensed
something was wrong, but he didn�t ask any question. Heck, he didn�t even demand to
know where I was when I didn�t tell him. He had to let his daughter grow up,
anyway.

And I think I did. I dealt with a lot of things while I was alone, things I didn�t
have the chance to deal with when I was with Erik.

I dealt with my grandmother�s pain. It still affected me how tragic things went for
her and I would still cry over it. But then she had her own glory days, moments
when she felt loved and gave love despite the pain.
I dealt with my feelings for Erik. Yes, I didn�t fight hard for him as the old
Steph would have. But I didn�t want to hurt Rock. They had something I could never
compete with. It was there even before I came. It still hurt like hell, but maybe,
like my grandmother did, I would learn how to get over it.

I dealt with the changes. I realized I didn�t need to go back to the way things
were before I left. I decided I could start something new and it excited me. I
finally found a way to deal with my new self and that was to accept that I was
someone new. I didn�t have to fight the changes.

When I finally realized that I was ready (it was not a very phenomenal event) to
face the world with a baggage of great memories, happiness and pain, I hopped out
of the island and flew back to Manila. I didn�t go back all healed, but I came back
as someone who could deal things with ease.

Chapter 36

Present day�

I folded the letter and placed it between the pages of her book. Closing it for the
last time, I tied the string around it tightly.

I will never open it again. The letters, along with the book, will be kept in my
memory.

It has brought me to a lot of places, introduced me to amazing people--to him--and

it taught me about life�and love.

Love�the love she had for him and the loss that came with it. I felt it. I�m
feeling it.

The tears rolled down my face and I let them.

I cried like she did sixty years ago. I cried for the man she never had. I cried
for the man I love but couldn�t have.

If only things turned out right for both of us, tears would not stain the pages of
this book.

If only�

My chain of thoughts was cut when I heard a commotion outside of my office.

Thinking it was another customer making a scene, I decided to handle it on my own.
Picking up Wawa�s diary, I dropped it inside my bag, wiped my eyes while cursing
myself for crying again when I swore I wouldn�t. But hey, I was still in the
process of accepting how things turned out for me and my grandmother so tears were
unavoidable.

I went out the door after composing myself.

�Ma�am, he said he�s not leaving until he talks to the owner.�

I frowned. �What happened?� I asked the caf� manager.

�He said he doesn�t like the taste of our coffee. We gave him another but he said
it was still the same. I think he�s�� the manager made a motion with her finger
just above her temple. �Should we call the guard?�

�No,� I shook my head. �I�ll handle this.�

I walked out of the hallway that separated the office from the main floor. I was
ready to go to battle when my feet got stuck on the tiled floor.

�What are you doing here?� I demanded when I finally found my voice. It was hard
not to devour his handsome features. He had on a white shirt and hiking shorts. His
sneakers were as dirty as ever. He looked like he just decided to go to Manila
after a day�s work in the fields, fresh bristles and all.

His smile was his usual smile. �We were just telling your manager we don�t like
your coffee,� he uttered, his eyes looking tired. We? And then I saw her. Rock was
standing beside him, pretty as always and looking happy.

Was he here to brag about his newfound love? The hurt I felt was turned into anger.
I was not prepared to meet him yet. No, not this soon.

�If you don�t like it, go to another place,� I answered.

Rock was looking at Erik with a frown and then her gaze focused on me. �You didn�t
tell her.� She turned to Erik and gave him an accusing look. �You moron! You didn�t
tell her?�

It was my turn to frown. I looked at Rock and asked, �Tell me what?�

Rock laughed aloud, attracting customers. �I can�t believe this. You moron,� she
playfully pushed Erik and then she backed away with her hands held up. �I�m not
going to be a part of this.�

Erik turned to her pleadingly. �You promised.�

�I didn�t know you didn�t tell her! I thought she already knows and you want to--�

�Wait! What the hell are you talking about?� I asked impatiently.

Rock did not answer. She just turned to me and then looked at Erik with a knowing
smile. �I�m out of here,� she said and turned to walk out the glass doors of the
coffee shop. Before she disappeared, she said over her shoulder, �And your coffee
is great, Steph. Don�t believe him. But I think you should listen to what he is
going to tell you. Whatever he�s about to tell you, that you should believe.�

I was frowning at Erik when Rock finally disappeared. �What the hell was she
talking about?�

He had a helpless look on his face as he scratched his head. �She should be helping
me do this.�

�Do what? Erik, I�m very busy today and if you have something to say, just say it.�

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

I started to turn away. He called my name. �What?� I demanded. I was irritated. If

he was going to invite me to his wedding, he better tell me now. I�d give him an
answer: I couldn�t make it to his wedding. Period.

�Well, you see, you left all of a sudden before we could actually talk. Where have
you been all this time? I searched for you everywhere. I stalked your Facebook page
but I guess you never updated it for months.�

I looked at him with disbelief. I never really visited my Facebook page since that
night in Dumaguete. And he stalked me? �I thought I told you that I�ll be going
home after Don Salvador?�

�Yes, but you said you�ll go home Sunday. You were gone by Wednesday without a
word. You can�t imagine the panic I felt when Manang June told me you drove the van
to the airport and went home. Just like that. Without a word of goodbye,� he
finished, throwing me an accusing look.

I frowned at him. �I did say goodbye.�

He looked puzzled. �When?�

�After the party. I said goodbye outside your door, you moron.� I remembered the
long speech outside that door and the hurt came rushing back again.

�I was asleep the moment I hit the bed, Steph.�

Anger rushed through me. Anger toward him, and most of all, anger toward myself.
So, he didn�t hear a word of what I said that night? And I left brokenhearted,
thinking I was rejected by him? And all the while he was sleeping? Everything I
felt because of that night was for nothing!

But the one thing I learned from my Guimaras vacation was how to calm myself down
and I did.

�But I said goodbye.� I repeated and looked around the coffee shop. Everybody was
back minding their own business. �Say whatever you need to say. I have things to
do.� I started to walk away but he stopped me.

�Wait, wait,� he said, alarm in his voice. With his left hand, he fished for his
phone in his jeans pocket. �I�m pretty sure I made a note while on the plane.�

�Erik, I don�t have time for this.�

�Wait, it�s here somewhere.�

It was an awkward moment standing there waiting for him find the note on his phone.
�If you can�t say whatever it is without a note, then I don�t really think I should
be wasting my time here.�

�Shoot! Fine!� he said in frustration, giving up his attempt. When he finally

looked at me, he said, �I love you.�

That was it. No introduction. No pretty, flowery speech. Just plain three words
that sent my heart flipping around like a deflating balloon.

�Don�t!� He held up his hand when I opened my mouth. �Don�t say this is all a joke.
It is not. Look,� he took another step forward, almost closing the distance between
us. My arms crossed over my chest in defense. I didn�t know what I was defending
myself from. Maybe the hurt I would feel if he would actually burst out he was
kidding and that I had been tricked. �Look,� he repeated, his eyes intensely
looking down at mine. �I�m sure I made a very great speech to say to you right now
but I lost it somewhere in my phone. They were words of love and promises--words of
complete happiness and every cheesy word invented. I don�t know how to say them
because right at this moment, as I look at you, seeing you right now, they
disappear. They no longer matter because with you, I always have more things to say
yet I find myself speechless at the same time. I�ve written about how I enjoyed
kissing you and how many times I tried to tell you how special you are. The only
words I remember writing down are the very words that drove me to start that
speech. I love you. I love you so much I even dragged Rock out here to help me out
the moment I learned you�re back in Makati. But she failed me miserably. I love you
so much that I left everything in Negros the moment I knew you are back from
wherever you have been hiding. You don�t want to know how many phone calls I made
to your dad just to be updated of your return. And I love you so much that I would
even sacrifice leaving Negros if you would rather stay here. I�ll be your driver. I
don�t promise I�ll like the traffic here though. And if you could just give me a
chance, I will promise you that I will write another speech that will blow your
heart out.� He said those words in a flash that my mind could barely keep up. His
tone was almost begging, his face that of desperation.

But he was already blowing both my heart and mind right now. It felt like I was
floating in nowhere and all I could hear was his voice and his words.

�I thought you and Rock�� I couldn�t finish the sentence.

He frowned. �Me and Rock what?� When realization struck him, he looked like he
swallowed something awful. �She�s like my sister. Don�t even suggest such a thing.�

�But I thought she�s--�

�Is that why you left? Because you thought that she and I were�� he couldn�t finish
his statement and I looked away with guilt. Hey, who could blame me?

�Why do women think of the darnest things?�

�What? I saw the two of you at the party and I thought--�

�Which part of the party is that?�

�After our dance. You went to her and the two of you left--�

�I took Rock out to meet one of our friends. The two of them had been afraid for a
long time and we all know that--but that�s not important right now,� he said with
disinterest as he tried to explain.

�What?� Hey, I still couldn�t believe there was actually a reason behind that
scene. I was so sure that night.

His face was full of disbelief now. �I thought I showed you enough of how I feel?
Were you not there when I sang those songs? Were you not the girl I kissed
countless of times? I thought you might have felt it but then you left before I
could even tell you. And then I thought you just didn�t feel the same, but the
moment I realized you might not be coming back, I panicked. And here I am.�

I was gaping at him at my own stupidity and his lack of knowledge of how women
think of the most stupid things. �I really thought you and Rock are--I thought your
parents want you two to--�

�What? Did you get that information from Manong Danny? Really, Steph, you should
get your facts straight first before you jump on a plane and disappear.� He ran a
hand through his tousled hair. When he returned his gaze at me, his look was
intense. �Look, we had been through enough other couples don�t go through at all.
We�ve known each other for a short time and yet we�re here. I�m here standing right
before you, begging you to consider dating me.� He must have felt it was safe to
take another step forward and he did so carefully, taking my hand in his. �Let�s
make our own story, Steph. Let�s make our own time capsule that we can actually
open together with our children and grandchildren and, hopefully, our great
grandchildren. Heck, let�s plant our own tree if you want.�

I didn�t need more words from him. He already blew away all my reservations the
moment he blurted out he loved me. Ever so slowly, I crossed the last remaining
distance between us and looked at him with a teary smile. �Next time, please use
the simplest ways to say what you feel.�

A big, triumphant smile broke on his face. �What? No songs?�

I thought about it for a second. �Okay, maybe a song every now and then is
acceptable.�

�And a time capsule?�

Again, I looked up as I thought about it. His face was coming down on me now.
�Sure. But let�s cut the time way shorter.�

�Thirty years?� he asked with a gentle smile.

�How about five? I am not that patient. Let�s do it every five years.�

�Sure. What else?�

�Let�s see. How about I bury you inside a time capsule if you don�t kiss me now?�

And I was immediately pulled in his arms to meet his laughing kiss.

Epilogue

Dear Stephanie,

I don�t know for certain if the
us, but I am pretty sure that I
decided to settle in Bacolod. I
distance, but know that I don�t
Negros after all. Hey, I�m sure
years before this day have been perfect for both of
have been happy. I couldn�t ask for more when you
know handling your business is challenging with the
regret for a second that I didn�t have to leave
you love the place so don�t complain.

First of all, I would like you to know that you have amused me in many ways since
the very first time I met you. I learned how to love your ignorance over the
simplest things and most of all, I learned to love your bratty side. I know that
the journey you made for your Wawa did a lot to change you for the better, but also
know that it helped me a lot to deal with myself and my own reservations.

When I lost Gela, I thought I could not give more of myself to anyone. But when I
met you, I was willing to go through the same pain again, even worse. I only wish
that I had reserved enough of myself for you and I hope I have made you happy
through these years.

As you read this letter, I would like you to remember everything. Remember the very
first day we met at the airport; the first fight we had, but please don�t ever do
another stay-at-the-back-of-the-truck scene. Don�t forget the night we first
kissed, right after that time in the prison cell; the songs we sang; the
waterfalls; the cajon; your golden sandals which I promise to find a replacement
to; our tree; the hammock; the truck and many others.
And Steph, do you remember that day when you walked out of the truck and the rain
started pouring? And that time when that guy in the bar grabbed your hand and
started to pull you away? And when you couldn�t climb down that tree in Don
Salvador? And when you went missing in that stream? I was scared. I got scared of
what might have happened to you and I never got scared like that before. And that
time when you left Bacolod without notice, I was scared shit to bits. I was scared
of losing you.

So please, as you read this letter, put me out of my misery and say yes.

I know we have decided to read the letters after three years despite our agreement
of five years (and I would like to remind you again that it is really silly that we
are short of fifty-seven years and that your grandmother and Father Guevarra would
be laughing if they found out) so I decided this is the perfect time to propose.

Don�t forget to remember that I am still willing to give up Negros if you suddenly
decide to go back to Makati. Because from the moment I met you, you became my new
adventure. Everywhere with you in it is a place I would gladly hike, walk, swim,
dive and drive just to get to. Just say yes and we will have our new set of
adventures.

I�ll be waiting by the tree.

Always,

Erik

I was crying when I finally closed the letter. I knew where I wanted to go but my
legs were still shaking with so much excitement. I forced my legs to stand up and I
slowly walked down the balcony of Erik�s farm house and almost ran to the tree
where he had been sitting in the hammock, reading my letter from three years ago.
When he saw me, he stood up and waited, one hand tucked inside his shorts pocket,
the other holding my letter.

My eyes were already filled with tears as I stumbled my way to him and when I was
close enough, we laughed.

I laughed as I stared at his ruggedly handsome face looking at me with so much

tenderness.

�I can�t believe you proposed,� he uttered with amusement and disbelief, shaking
the letter in his hand.

�When I wrote it, I was pretty certain you would propose first before you read it.
Looks like I was wrong.�

His eyes squinted at me and he held out his hand, the one holding my letter. I
walked to where he was and took it. �You don�t have something like this by any
chance as well, do you?� he asked as he took his other hand out of his pocket and
showed me the ring.

The tears fell from my eyes and I shook my head. �I honestly thought you would
propose first.�

�Well, it seems we chose the same method of proposal.� He tipped my chin up and our
eyes met. �What�s your answer?�

�If you give me your answer first, I would answer your question.�

�Steph.� He looked at me with warning.

I smiled. �Do I really have to answer that?�

�Of course, you have to. I don�t know if you are just kidding or if you changed
your mind--�

I jumped and wound my arms around his neck. �Yes, yes, yes! I�ll marry you!� I
cried out as I buried my face in his shoulder.

�That�s better,� he uttered, putting me back on the ground. �And I guess I have to
give you an answer, too, right?� he asked. My tears were already blurring my vision
but I nodded. �Yes, I�ll marry you,� he beamed before he bent down to seal his
answer with a kiss.

Five months later�

I didn�t feel that great as I sat on a rock with my breezy, yellow floral dress and
wide-brim hat. Why did it have to happen to me again? Why?

�Ga,� I finally decided to break my silence. Ever since we got engaged months ago,
I had started to call Erik �ga�, a shortcut for �langga� which is another shortcut
for �palangga� which means �love�. It is a common endearment among Hiligaynons and
I learned to love it during the years of my stay in Bacolod. �I am not trying to
whine here, but what the hell is wrong with your truck?� I continued with
frustration.

We were once again stranded beside the road, on our way to Sipalay, and it was
supposed to be a perfect trip.

�Just a few more minutes,� he answered under the hood. His shirt was already
drenched with sweat and his forearms were covered with grease.

�We should really consider getting a new one,� I murmured as I looked down at my
new golden sandals, the one Erik managed to find in replacement for the old one.

�What did I tell you? Don�t say things like that in the presence of my truck. It is
sensitive.�

�It�s waging war against me! Can�t you see that? I�ve always felt that since the
very first time we met! It always breaks down when I�m around!� I stood up and
walked to where he was and looked under the hood. �I don�t know what the problem
is, but we better get on the road soon.�

Erik�s laughter rang out.

�Let�s just get to the nearest tire shop and buy whatever parts we need,� I
suggested. �I know you�re an engineer and all, but you�re not really doing a good
job.�

He turned to me with narrowed eyes.

�What?� I asked with a laugh, taking a step back. He had straightened to full
height.

�You really don�t have faith in my technical ability, do you?� he uttered, his
voice full of menace as he walked toward me, taking his baseball cap off his head.

�Ga, please. Just fix the truck and let�s get back on the road.� I took more steps
backward.

He must have agreed with me because he stopped and looked ahead of the road.
�There�s a truck coming.�

I looked behind me and sighed. �Fine. I�ll hitch a ride on a truck. Let�s just get
this over with.� I turned around and waved my hands over my head for the truck to
stop. When it did, I pasted a big smile on my face. �Hey! Manong! Can we hitch a
ride? Our truck broke down and we need to buy some parts at the nearest town,� I
explained in Hiligaynon.

When the driver finally said yes, I called Erik and we boarded on the passenger
side.

�So, are you two on vacation?� the truck driver asked as conversation starter once
the truck was back on the road.

Erik turned his head to look down at me. �Something like that,� he answered with a
lopsided grin.

I looped my arm around Erik�s, tipped my wide-brim hat and smiled at the driver,
�We�re on our honeymoon.�

***I hope you guys got here because the story somehow kept you interested. Please
be free to vote and comment (ComVo)! Those things mean a lot to me! Swear! :D

***And now I say goodbye to this work of mine. Sad to say, I need to start editing
soon and I hate editing! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed Steph's journey! About
the video: I mentioned this before: I love Lady Antebellum and this song has been
one of the many inspiration for this story. :) I hope you continue to support my
other stories and the new ones I will be updating soon! Love lots, Green.