VANE JASON
I never thought this day would come.
The day my father was buried, my heart deflated. That very moment, my childhood memories spun inside my head, filling me with the kind of sadness and grief that I knew would never heal over time. I never imagined that I would find the courage to visit him again after all these years. But here I am, standing in front of his well-kept grave, staring hollowly at the inscription etched on the ornate headstone. Placing the flowers on the ground, I muttered a simple prayer hoping it will reach him.
Javier Blanco Clohessy had been my life's greatest mentor, and my very first confidante. He has taught me many things, and up to this very day, I still live by some of his beliefs and teachings.
When I was ten years old, I remember running home to find my parents lounging on the mansion's pool area. I told my mother that I was in love with someone, and she flashed me a confused and slightly annoyed look, before telling me that I was too young and innocent to declare that I am in love. She dismissed the idea as quickly as she would dismiss our helpers once they have given her what she wanted. My heart sank, because I did not agree with her, but I did not dare question the things she said.
That night after dinner, my father headed to my bedroom and asked me about the girl. I told him she introduced herself as Xiana. He laughed, obviously amused, before he ruffled my hair.
"Mama said I'm too young for love," I said sadly as I played with the hem of my shirt.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Nobody is ever too young or too old for love."
"You think so, Papa?"
"I know so, Vane. Where did you meet Xiana?" I loved how he addressed her by her name as if he knew her personally. My excitement bubbled inside my chest as I recounted the story.
"I was playing outside with the toy helicopter you gave me when I saw her riding a purple bicycle. She had long hair and pretty eyes that seemed to sparkle whenever she smiled. And she smiled a lot, Papa! I was fascinated by her, so I forgot all about my toy. The helicopter bumped into the villa's tall gate and crashed on the ground. I ran to it and saw that it was broken. She got down from her bike and approached me. She said her brother had the exact same toy and if I wanted, she could ask him to give it to me instead, because he no longer likes to play with it."
"Xiana seems like a very kind little girl. What did you tell her?"
"Well, I told her it was just a toy and that you would buy me another one if I ace my classes, so I told her not to worry about it anymore. She said that I must be sad it broke, so she sat on the ground next to me and sang to me, Papa. She has the loveliest voice I have ever heard."
My father's chuckle filled the entire room. "My boy, you are smitten."
"I told her to call me Vane. I invited her to play with me again tomorrow, but she said summer is almost over, and her entire family is flying back to the city the following day. She said she has bad memory and that she's most likely to forget my name. I told her names are not that easy to remember, but special gifts are. We traded little gifts with each other. Even if she forgets my name, and what I look like, she will always remember that moment."
"My witty child. What did you give her?"
"I could not find anything valuable to give, so instead I checked my pockets, and found a lone chess piece. It was a king. I told her she gets to keep it because she's a queen."
"And what did she give you in return?"
I smiled and pulled something heavy out of my pocket. I handed it to him, and his brows creased with curiosity. "She gave you a piece of rock."
"Xiana told me that Neil Armstrong once said, 'Geologists have a saying – rocks remember.' She gave me that rock for me to remember her with. For as long as I keep that rock, I will never forget her name, Papa." My father returned the rock to me and I placed it safely inside a box which I used to keep my crayons in. When I jumped back in bed, he was looking at me with a somewhat proud smile plastered on his face. He patted my shoulder affectionately and told me he believed that it was just young love, but love, nonetheless.
"Vane, I want you to remember one thing..."
"What is that, Papa?"
"Love is the rock on which all else stands. That was a quote by Nora Roberts. You may not get it now, but someday you will. I wish I'm still around by the time you fall deeply in love, my son. If ever I'm not, I just want you to know that love, regardless its form, is the foundation of everything in this world."
Now at twenty seven, I can no longer remember what exactly Xiana looked like. I can no longer remember how pretty her eyes had been. I can no longer remember the way she smiled. But what I do recall is how she had been the reason my father and I first talked about love that night.
I stared back at my father's gravestone knowing his love for me had been my very first rock.
His love for me is the strongest foundation of who I am as a person.
***
I found myself enjoying the wonderful view of rural landscapes as I drove back. The trees were rich green in color, the leaves glinting proudly under the warmth of the sunlight. Cows, horses, and goats grazed peacefully, and some farmers from a short distance can be seen harvesting their crops. I rolled my windows down to smell the fresh air.
It was calming.
I saw that I was about to pass by the barangay library to which I donated some of my old books to. I slowed down when I noticed that there were about fifteen kids sitting in front as if they were in class. There was a lady who stood in front like a teacher, holding a huge holographic book, that was covering her face. When she set it back down on the table, my eyes widened when I recognized those features that are way too beautiful to be ignored.
Asheng.
When I donated books, I was told that someone has volunteered to teach the kids thrice a week. I never got to visit the kids and introduce myself personally, but know it was as if something was urging me to descend and socialize with them.
I bit my lip, knowing the real reason why I wanted to go there.
Shaking my head, I parked on the side of the road.
I turned off the engine and pocketed my keys. I almost jogged to get to the barangay library. I have no idea why I can feel an urgency pumping in my veins. I halted when I was near so I can leisurely stare at Asheng.
There was a kind smile plastered on her face as she asked the kids what the moral of the story was. One boy raised his hand and she was about to call him when confusion momentarily flashed in her eyes. The little girl sitting next to the boy told Asheng that the boy's name is Arman. She apologized for forgetting and gently coaxed Arman to recite.
I was just watching her, admiring her way with kids, when I felt someone nudge me by the elbow.
My brows furrowed when I turned and saw an old lady winking at me teasingly.
"Ano, hijo, kanina ka pa nakatingin. Baka naman matunaw na si Asheng niyan! Aba!" napangiti ako nang malamang kakilala niya rin si Asheng. Maloko niya akong nginitian pabalik bago tinanguan.
"Type mo ba? Gusto mo ilakad kita? Singol 'yan, hindi lang marunong magmingol."
It took me a moment to understand her, but when I did, an amused chuckle escaped from my mouth. She looked like the typical old woman in movies. Long white hair tied back in a bun. An over-used duster. The smell of baby powder and fruity cologne.
"Nako, baka hindi naman ho ako ang tipo niya. At saka, nanonood lang naman ho ako sa pagtuturo niya sa mga bata. Nakakatuwa lang na mukhang gustong gusto siya ng mga ito."
"Oo naman. Napakabait na bata niyan ni Asheng. Lagi niyang binabasahan ang mga bata sa umaga. Pagkatapos ay matiyaga niyang tuturuan magsulat. Siya nga pala, hijo, isa lang ang kilala kong blandi ang buhok dito, 'di ba ikaw ang apo ni Donya Charita? Senyorito."
Magalang akong tumango. "Tawagin niyo na lang ho akong Vane. Ano ho ang pangalan niyo?"
"Ako si Soling. Nana ako ni Asheng simula bata pa siya. Kilalang-kilala ko 'yan hanggang sa kaduluduluhang himulmol ng pagkatao niya."
Natawa ako. Ipinagkrus ko ang mga braso sa dibdib bago muling pinukol ng tingin ang walang kamalay-malay na si Asheng. Napakasimple niya lang. Walang kolorete sa mukha kung 'di ang ngiting lagging nakapagkit sa mga labi niya. Nakasuot siya ng isang maluwag na t-shirt at shorts na abot hanggang sa tuhod. Ang buhok niya ay nakatali ngayon sa likod sa pamamagitan ng isang hair clamp. May butil ng pawis akong naanig na tumulo mula sa mukha niya papunta sa leeg at nakita kong walang kiyeme niya itong pinunasan gamit ang likod ng palad.
"Manang, matagal na ba kayo ni Asheng dito?"
Umiling siya. "Hindi. Taga-maynila talaga 'yan, gusto lang umamoy ng tae ng kalabaw."
Malakas akong napahalakhak sa tinuran niya. Dahil doon ay naglingunan sa akin ang mga bata at pati na rin si Asheng. Nakita ko ang paglaki ng mga mata niya sa direksiyon ko. I quickly lifted my lips into an easy smile before waving awkwardly at her.
It took her a moment before responding.
From where I was standing, I was able to see how her cheeks turned crimson.
"Aba't may pagblush ang birhen ng taon!" turan ni Manang Soling. Agad na napahawak sa mukha si Asheng na ang hinuha ko ay dahil sa hiya. Ako naman ay napakagat ng labi dahil sa pagpipigil ng tawa. Nagpaalam panandalian si Asheng sa mga bata bago naglakad papunta sa amin. Nang nasa harap ko na siya ay binigyan niya ako ng maliit na ngiti.
"Senyori –"
"Vane. Please just call me Vane."
"Okay. Uhm, Vane, hello. Pasensiya ka na kay Manang ha. Ganyan lang talaga 'yan."
"Inaasar lang naman kita, Asheng," pakli nitong nakangisi pa rin.
"It's okay. Naaliw ako sa kanya. Nagtuturo ka pala rito, 'no?" I said to state the obvious. Wala na kasi akong masabi. Naagaw ng mapupungay niyang mata ang atensiyon ko.
"Oo. Sabi sa akin 'yung ilang libro raw rito donation mo. Salamat ha. Kailangan 'yun ng mga bata at magagamit talaga namin sa mga susunod na lesson."
Tumango ako. "You're welcome. Next time ibang gamit naman 'yung i-dodonate ko sa kanila."
Masuyo siyang ngumiti. "Totoo pa lang daks ka."
Agad akong natigilan.
What?
What did she just tell me?
I mean, totoo naman, pero paano niya nalaman?