My vision blurred as the tears started to flow. I rubbed furiously at my eyes and headed for the gate. I was almost there when I heard the front door open.
“There you are! I’ve been wondering what happened to you and your mother. You were supposed to come back yesterday, remember? What excuse are you giving me this time, huh?” asked Aling Lydia. She stepped out of the house wearing a duster and tiny pink rollers in her hair. She wagged a manicured finger at me and said, “Now you know that I meant what I said. I want to have reliable people working for me.”
“I’m sorry, po. Please, let me explain. My mother…”
“I know your mother has problems.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. My…”
“No more excuses, Nora.”
“Please, just listen to me!”
The back door of the bakery banged open behind me. I knew without looking that Perla and her brother had come out to see what was happening.
I wanted to kick something. I did.
My foot somehow made contact with a dried coconut husk that someone had left by the patio. It sailed through the air and nearly hit Aling Lydia, who had been standing with her hands on her hips. She didn’t even flinch.
Perla’s high-pitched voice suddenly filled the air, accusing me of trying to hurt her mother. She would have screamed more hurtful words if her brother hadn’t stopped her by explaining that it was an accident.
Aling Lydia paid her children no attention. She stepped off the patio and stood directly in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Nora. But I had to give the job to someone else. You were supposed to show up yesterday. I was counting on you. You’ve become as unreliable as your mother. And now you show up making excuses.”
“I’m not!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I could feel my desperation and anger becoming a living thing inside me.
Aling Lydia paused, her eyes narrowing, and her mouth formed to say more poisonous words. It had to stop.
“My. Mother. Is. Missing!” I screamed, each word flung into the air between sobs. Afterward, I began to shake, not caring anymore what anyone thought about my mother or me. “And stop talking about my mother as if she’s a bad person! You know nothing about her and what she’s suffered and lost since my father died. All she wants is a better life for me.” I sniffed, pulling up the neckline of my shirt to wipe the tears off my face. “She left to play mahjong on Sunday and never came back. I didn’t come to work because I’ve been looking for her. She must be hurt or something because she wouldn’t leave me, not ever.”
The fire inside me diminished as the words flowed from my mouth. Perla and her brother stared at me, their angry expressions melting into shock. I could see it in their faces. How dare I speak to their mother this way. I was breathing hard. New tears flowed, cooling my hot cheeks.
“I’m disappointed in you, Nora. You have always been a polite girl.” Aling Lydia walked over to where I stood, her hands on her waist, her lips pressed into a frown. She leaned down so that her face was only inches from mine. “I hope you’re telling the truth. And if you are, then I will forgive your rudeness—this time.” She stood straight again and sighed, regarding me with crinkled brows. “Look, I am not a cruel woman. If you need a place to stay, I can work something out. And since you’ve done well covering for your mother in the past, I can give you a job in the bakery. I do need someone to help out with washing pans and sweeping the floor. The job is yours if you want it. It’s only temporary until your mother comes home. What do you say?”
I wanted to tell her that I had to stay in my grave house in case Mama returned. I wanted to thank her for offering me a place to stay and for giving me work. I wanted to yell at her again for not listening to me in the first place. But the words clogged in my throat and wouldn’t come out. Instead, I turned away and cried, out of shame and anger.
I ran through the gate and was in the street the next moment. Aling Lydia called my name, telling me to come back, but I kept on running, away from the bakery, from the cemetery, as if I could run away from life.
What was I supposed to do for money now? How were Mama and I going to buy food and candles? I should at least march back to Aling Lydia’s and accept the job. But I continued to walk. Tears filled my eyes until everything looked like a blurry mess. I couldn’t see where I was going and I didn’t care. All I wanted to do at that moment was scream, It’s your fault, Mama! But I didn’t, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop. If only Papa hadn’t died, if only Mama wasn’t so careless. If only there was a way to escape or disappear forever.
I finally stopped at a street corner, surrounded by unfamiliar buildings. I sat by a wall to figure out what to do next when I noticed a group of girls walking up the street.
There were about four of them, probably students on their way to school. They wore maroon pleated skirts and white blouses with wide sailor collars. Thin maroon ties with embroidered letters hung at their throats.
I watched them as they talked and gestured. They were probably complaining about exams or about a teacher.
Evelyn used to do that. We were opposites when it came to schoolwork. I worked hard to get onto honor roll, and some months I did, just barely. But Evelyn made it every time. Where I would have been happy to make it on the list, my best friend fought for the number-one spot.
I wished I could talk to her. I missed school, even though I wasn’t a top student. I understood that having a high school diploma would give me a better chance to find a job when I grew up. If I didn’t finish my education, I’d have to be a street vendor. I stared at the girls in uniforms and wondered if they knew how lucky they were.
One of them had long, straight hair. She wore a headband that kept most of it out of her face. She looked familiar. Her skin was fair and smooth. She had a small dark mark above the corner of her lips. Nausea wriggled in my stomach like a worm. My mouth went dry and my throat felt like I had just swallowed a santol seed.
I know her.
There was only one person I knew with a beauty mark like that. It was Evelyn. I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked so grown-up wearing a headband instead of braids. After the fire and Papa’s death, I’d never gone back to school. I’d never had a chance to tell her what had happened to me.
I wanted to run to her and ask her about what classes she had and how our friends were doing. I wanted to but I couldn’t. My shorts were frayed at the edges, the colors of the fabric so faded they looked old and dirty. My slippers had a hole, my feet were callused. I couldn’t let her see me like this.
She was a few feet away when I got up. Would she recognize me? Probably not.
I walked away, glancing back at her one last time.
Evelyn had been whispering something to her friend. Our eyes met and locked.
“Nora? Is that you?” Her eyes roamed over my clothes, her brow wrinkling.
I froze. Every nerve in my body screamed with shame. Run away! Run away! But I couldn’t. Evelyn’s eyes grew large, wondering, as she took in my messy ponytail, my T-shirt and shorts. Her lips formed a small O. Then her hand shot up to her mouth.
Her eyes held mine as she approached. She took my hands in hers and said, “What happened to you? Why didn’t you come to school last year? My mom told me there was news about a big fire in Mandaluyong. I remember seeing the smoke. She said that a couple of people died but she didn’t know who it was. So where did you and your parents move to? Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” Evelyn pressed my hands between hers, her eyes shiny with tears. Her lips curled into a small smile. Then she opened her arms, my hands still in hers, spreading them wide. “You’re not in uniform. Aren’t you in school?”
Her friends looked at one another, then stared at my clothes, full of curiosity.
“Evie, I—I—my father died in the fire,” I stammered, struggling for something to say and blurting out the only truth that mattered. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t go to school, that Mama and I had run away from Lola Fely’s
unkindness, that we lived in a cemetery. But I couldn’t. At least not in front of her friends.
Evelyn’s smile dissolved into open-mouthed shock. She took in my appearance again and seemed to understand all the things I couldn’t tell her.
“Oh, Nora. I didn’t know.”
She pulled me into a hug. Her friends had stepped away from us, looking embarrassed.
The feel of her arms around me, the smell of her clean clothes and her shampooed hair, made my eyes sting with tears. I wanted to hold her and not let go.
“Evelyn, we only have fifteen minutes to get to school,” said one of her friends, looking between Evelyn and me.
“I’m sorry, Evie. I don’t want you to be late.”
“It’s okay, Nora.” My friend turned to her companions and said, “Just another minute.”
She rummaged in her school bag for a piece of paper and pencil. I noticed her gold stud earrings and the wristwatch she wore. It made me feel more uncomfortable. She pulled out a notebook, tore out a page, and scribbled on it. Then she dug into her skirt pocket and pulled out a ten-peso bill. She shoved both into my hands.
“Here is my phone number. Call me. My father works at the bank now. I’m sure he can do something for you and your mother.”
I should have felt happy that she wanted to help. I should have felt relieved that I had a friend who still remembered me. But I only felt embarrassed by her pity.
“I’ll keep your phone number but I can’t take your money.” It was probably her jeepney fare. I pushed the money back into her hand and turned away as her mouth opened in protest.
I ran. My throat ached. Tears flowed from my eyes, blinding me.
“Nora! Stop!” Evelyn and her friends ran after me.
I ducked into a dressmaker’s shop. The bell above the entrance jingled and a blast of cool air hit me, chilling the sweat on my neck and back. The door closed just as Evelyn reached it.
The bolts of fabric next to me made the perfect hiding place. I lowered myself into a crouch just as an old woman stepped out from behind a yellow curtain. The bell jingled again.
I heard her shuffling feet and then her voice. “Can I help you?”
The door thudded shut. “Good morning, po. I’m looking for a girl. She ran into this shop a minute ago.”
I could hear the old woman move closer. “Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t seen her. If she came inside, then maybe she has gone out again.”
Evelyn’s steps faltered, hesitating. She mumbled, “I could’ve sworn—” Then she let out a sigh and said, “Okay, thanks.”
The bell jingled once more.
My heart hammered in my chest as the old woman shuffled through the curtain at the back of the store. I slipped out the front door. Evelyn and her friends were gone.
I wandered around the rest of the day, back to the cemetery. Confused, my head pounding, I began to cry again when someone grabbed me by the shoulder. I pulled away and screamed.
“Naku, I didn’t mean to scare you!” said Mang Rudy. “I was walking home when I saw you come out of that shop. Hey, are you okay?” He was carrying a wooden rectangular box with tools inside.
I shook my head, my chest still heaving. My voice, when it came out, sounded like a squeaky wheel.
“I got lost.” My lip quivered, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Mang Rudy handed me his handkerchief. It had grease and sawdust on it, but I didn’t care. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
“Well then, it’s a good thing I found you. Hey, shouldn’t you be at work with your mother?”
“Mama hasn’t come home.” I swallowed. “I got my washing days wrong and Aling Lydia gave our job to someone else.” Embarrassment heated my face. I remembered that it was Mang Rudy and his wife who had helped Mama and me get the labandera job at Aling Lydia’s. “She did ask me if I wanted to work in the bakery instead. But I was too upset to give her an answer.”
Mang Rudy’s brow creased. He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “Wait—did you say your mother didn’t come home?”
“Yes, she didn’t come home Sunday night, and now it’s Wednesday, and—” I couldn’t continue. My throat tightened, and a painful sob fought to punch through.
He shook his head, making tsk-tsk sounds. He sighed and said, “Jojo did mention that you were staying with Lola Mercy last night. Now I understand why.” He sighed again. “All we can do is wait and see. Remember that Aling Nena and I are here to help. We will do what we can for you.”
“Salamat po.” I did feel grateful. I could ask to use his cell phone. I remembered the piece of paper in my pocket with Evelyn’s phone number. But I knew I couldn’t call her. It was nice of her to think her father would help squatters like Mama and me. No, if something happened to Mama, I’d have to call Tito Danny. “I’ll go back to the grave house. I want to be there in case she comes home.”
If she comes home.
“Hmmp. That’s too bad about the washing job. Working in the bakery would be better for you. You can learn to make pandesal. A good skill to have. It’s hard to find work these days, especially for people like us. Come, let’s go home. You can talk to Aling Lydia tomorrow.” He patted me one more time on the shoulder and started walking home.
I wished that work was the only thing I was looking for.
Chapter Fourteen
I stood outside Jojo’s shanty, listening to Lola Mercy humming to herself. It reminded me of how Mama used to hum while she folded laundry. The memory brought back my tears. I had lost my job, Mama, everything. My heart was still pounding from seeing Evelyn. I took a deep breath to calm myself and concentrated on Lola Mercy’s quavering voice.
It was that time of day, just before night, where everything outside took on a bluish cast. There were spots of yellow light coming from open windows in neighboring shanties and grave houses. The taps and scrapes of metal spoons and forks on plastic plates mingled with the muted conversations of daily living. It made me remember my old neighborhood. It was as if I were standing outside my old house and not a shack in the middle of a cemetery. The sounds were ordinary, even happy, in contrast to the emptiness I felt. I had no father. And now, no mother. I had denied the possibility that Mama had run away, but with everything I’d learned so far, it seemed the most likely explanation. But why hadn’t she taken me with her? Why had she left me behind?
“Nora?” Lola Mercy peeked through one of the wide gaps between the old planks that made up the door. She flicked off the hook that kept it closed and took a peek before she swung it wide open, fanning vigorously. The sudden gust of air cooled the last tears on my cheeks.
“Pasok, pasok. Hurry, I don’t want any more mosquitoes getting in here,” said Lola Mercy.
Once I was inside, Lola Mercy closed the door and repositioned a dark green mosquito coil balanced on top of a metal triangle. The outer end of the coil glowed bright orange at its tip. A tendril of smoke drifted up from it and tickled my nose. It smelled like charcoal and candles. It brought back memories of sitting in a tiny living room with Papa, watching the news. We’d used the same mosquito repellent. I squeezed my eyes shut. I should have felt angry at how unfair life had been for me. But I felt nothing. This day had used up all that I had left.
Lola Mercy seemed oblivious to my stillness. I stood, staring into space in the middle of the shack, as she doled out what looked like rice porridge from a small pot. The smell of ginger and chicken broth made my mouth water. I hadn’t eaten anything the entire day, besides that morning’s roll. Lola Mercy sprinkled green onions and toasted bits of garlic on top of the porridge from two small plastic bags.
“Here you go, anak. You must be starving,” said Lola Mercy as she handed a bowl to me. I inhaled deeply and was surprised to see a small piece of chicken on top of the creamy white bed of porridge.
Lola Mercy pulled a couple of benches from under the window and gestured for me to sit down.
“Salamat po.” It was all my parched throat could manage.
The bench was so low that my legs were folded close to my chest when I sat down. I balanced the bowl on my knees and ate a spoonful. The warm porridge slowly eased the tightness of my throat.
We finished our meal under the glow of a single golden light bulb. The only sounds came from Lola Mercy’s slurping and from the tap, tap of the spoon against the plastic bowl. Lola Mercy’s soft, smiling face made me wonder just how happy she was. I’d never heard her or Jojo complain. I wondered how long they had lived here.
“That was delicious, Lola. Jojo told me you were a great cook.” The rice had been simmered to creamy perfection. It made my stomach feel warm and less hollow. She must’ve gone next door to cook again. Lola Mercy nodded and smiled, her eyes disappearing in the webbed creases and wrinkles of her face.
The dishes were washed using buckets of water she kept outside by the door. That was where I had to wash up and brush my teeth. Luckily, Lola Mercy had a chamber pot so I didn’t have to relieve myself outside as well. Not having a bathroom was one of the most uncomfortable things about living here in the cemetery. When I first moved here, I hadn’t bathed for a week. Mama had explained that all we had to do was take a bath with our clothes on. It was a year since that first time, but I’d never gotten used to it.
Jojo’s bed was soft, a nice change from lying on a concrete floor with only a woven mat and a flattened box to sleep on. But last night, the wooden crates beneath me had wobbled and creaked. Even though it was comfortable, the unfamiliar sounds had woken me every time I changed position.
Lola Mercy sat on her bed, her legs tucked underneath her as she pulled a rosary from a pouch she kept pinned to her duster. She crossed herself and began to murmur gently. My mind wandered, my heart heavy. What was I going to do? Especially if—no, I wouldn’t give up on Mama yet. No one, not even Tiger, could stop me from getting to the truth. The thought of him made my chest tighten, squeezing the air out of my lungs. The memory of what he’d done to Jojo made me cringe. We would have to be more careful. I couldn’t handle another confrontation with him. I wished more and more that Mama and I had moved to Davao.
Everlasting Nora Page 9
