Saturday, May 24, 2008

SENOR ENRIQUE, THE FICTIONIST


Everyone has a story, they say. And these short stories I had written were mostly inspired by those shared with me by the many people I met since moving back to Manila.

It was an ideal match, for the most part. I was an avid listener and our local folks -- both young and old alike -- were wonderful storytellers. Some were quite animated at it which made learning about our local culture an even more engrossing feat.

It was virtually impossible, however, to determine the veracity of their stories; hence, the best way to pass them on, I thought, was to recreate them into works of pure fiction. Be that as it may, should there be similarities between any of my characters and actual persons that you may know -- living or dead -- rest assured, they are nothing more than coincidental.

All told, I had posted 29 short stories of fiction during a six-month period -- from September 30, 2005 to March 22, 2006. It was the first six months of my blogging efforts as Señor Enrique.

There should have been a 30th to this list. It was to be much longer than any I had written. However, while in the midst of it, I yielded to a growing interest to delve more into current affairs, as well as in certain historical facets of Manila. And soon thereafter, my interest in photography was rekindled. In the interim, the 30th piece was neglected; remaining on the back burner to this day.

I may get back to it one of these days but for now, thought I'd first organize and make a list of everything I had posted so far.

So, here they are:



PRESENCE
posted: 9/30/05

It has been a daily ritual inside the family compound in Sampaloc -- Conchita asking the rambunctious children to stop playing out in the yard, and for the household help to refrain from any more sweeping of it until the next morning. This would be followed by a reminder for everyone to restrict all other activities inside the house.

It was once again twilight time -- the period when the "other friends," as Conchita fondly referred to them, would claim the ground for their own use and enjoyment.



LOSING THE SIDE OF CIRCLE
posted: 10/04/05

Even at a young age, Maximo had mastered a lesson that both friends and rivals in school seemed unable to absorb: that the three most important features in a young man’s appearance are style, style and style.

And so with an allowance far more substantial than most kids his age, he frequented SM Manila and Robinson’s Malate to hunt for the latest pair of K-Swiss or Lee Pipe jeans. As for the other trendy outfits, electronic gadgets, or PC games, all he had to do was log on to amazon.com or paragonsports.com, place his orders, enter the number of his supplemental credit card, and have the items shipped to his father’s address in Seattle, Washington. His father would then bring those items home with him when he comes back for a brief visit every six months.



THE MEANING OF NO
posted: 10/10/05

Funny thing, friendship. You spend a lifetime nourishing it but with only a single misunderstanding or misdeed, it can suddenly cease to exist. And only in very rare occasions could an altruistic act of forgiveness resurrect it.

Jepoy and Jekwah are best of friends; more like symbiotic twins, for one couldn’t seem to exist or be seen without the other. Those are not their real names received at birth, but nicknames, or more appropriately, terms of endearment given by one to another.




WINDSWEPT
posted: 10/13/05

Although Layla has all the accoutrements of a grand dame, she is tired of the senseless shopping sprees, lavish dinner parties, and exhausting travels to outlandish places. She is tired of getting all dressed up but without any important place to go. Worst of all, she is tired of being alone.

As she has learned to accept her husband’s infidelity, she has also learned to wallow in similar wicked behavior. It doesn’t really matter whether her husband, Charlie, knows about it or not. At first she did it to spite him but now it’s to recapture pieces of her lost youth.




GOLDEN YEARS
posted: 10/15/05

Walter could only grunt his consent when out of the blue, Ate Osang hastily flew home to the Philippines after receiving a letter from a cousin. She was rather vague about her reasons but Walter knew better than to press her for details. The more definite he wanted her to be, the more convoluted she would get. She assured him it would only be for two or three weeks the most. That was almost two months ago.

Married for almost 25 years, this was the only time they were away from one another. Had it not been for the Yankee playoff tickets he received as birthday gift, he would have gone with her. But then again it was Ate Osang who gave him the tickets. "Were these tickets part of some shady scheme," he asked himself paranoid.




SECRET
posted: 10/18/05

The idea was not to tell a single soul. Neither Papa nor Mama should ever suspect that something was terribly wrong. They were both thousands of miles away from home, living in a foreign country; working hard to provide a comfortable life and a brighter future for everyone. And so as not to upset them, everyone at home must pretend everything was all right as always in Manila.

Right after promising she wouldn’t tell anyone, little Bechay decided to take a nap to sleep off her headache.





MODERN LOVE
posted: 10/20/05

The middle-age doctor was telling his young patient how different it was in Manila when he was his age. With the influence of the church at its height and the pervasive sexual mores averse to change, people were imbued with feelings of guilt, inhibition and restricted beliefs about what normal sexual thoughts and behaviors were.

Many were not allowed to express themselves in sexually healthy ways; a rare sight it was for unmarried couples to hold hands in public, let alone display a more intimate act such as kissing or hugging. It was an era of repressed sexuality that even single girls who went beyond kissing with their boyfriends were instantly regarded a puta, the doctor claimed.




TRAFFIC
posted: 10/21/05

It has been an arduous morning for Teresa -- fielding David’s redundant questionings, as well as vehemently denying false accusations of her seeing another man behind his back.

She realized the only way she could ignore his belligerence was to get up and leave his house. She came over to give them some chicken salad she made the night before; instead of gratitude, she got another one of his outbursts incited by deep-seated insecurity.




FIRST OF MAY
posted: 10/22/05

Divisoria, at 3 o’clock in the morning, would be abuzz with its usual hustle and bustle; wholesale dealers negotiating the day’s selling prices with regular customers, some of whom are public market stall merchants and pushcart vendors.

There would be loads of fresh vegetables and fruits off the trucks from Batangas and Tagaytay farms, as well as produce from the merchant ships docked at the nearby piers, which sailed from China, Taiwan and other Philippine islands.




WINDFALL
posted: 10/24/05

An old proverb claims poverty is a mental disease; a state of mind. And that a man must first experience prosperity in his consciousness before it can manifest into his world. If correct, then Isabel of Pasay City would be the ideal walking testament to this truth.

Shunned by neighbors for being enthralled by other people’s good fortune, Isabel would incessantly talk about this or that who suddenly got these and those; people who experience good fortune unexpectedly.




THE GEEZER
posted: 10/26/05

According to empirical wisdom, adolescence, like measles, ought to be experienced once and for all while young, for a recurrence in middle-age may produce serious consequences.

Such was the case with Manong Odi. At age 50, he found himself with too much time on – but nothing to do with – his hands.

Daunted by the grim prospect of having to assimilate into a new corporate culture, as well as having to answer to younger superiors, he opted for early retirement when the bank where he was working at for many years as a senior commercial mortgage executive was bought by another but much larger bank.




FRAGILE
posted: 10/28/05

Anita was exasperated. Nothing was good enough for Helen, her sister-in-law who was vacationing from New York and staying at their house. This balikbayan was definitely getting on her nerves with her wry comments about everything Filipino. Helen would deliver them succinctly, with a menacing smile, and in English, too. Anita thought, only five years of living in the States and this woman has already forgotten her Tagalog.

From the sweet-tasting spaghetti sauce to the vivid palette of her home interior, Helen was unstoppable when it came to dispensing unsolicited critiques of Anita’s housekeeping skills. With a slightly toned down sarcasm, Anita would then apologize for not having yet attained Martha Stewart’s level of mind-boggling ingenuity.




GAME DESIGN
posted: 10/31/05

Judy works at a law firm on Eighth Avenue and 52nd Street as a filing clerk while her husband, Benjie, is a car mechanic at 10th Avenue and 57th Street; both are in Manhattan. After work, they will meet at their son’s office at 23rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenues. From there, the three will head home to Brooklyn Heights, a quaint neighborhood on the edge of Brooklyn that overlooks downtown Manhattan.

They have been living as permanent residents in America during the past six years but it was only a year or so ago when they began enjoying life.




WHIPPED GOOD
posted: 11/2/05

Fourth of nine children, Nenita was forced to leave home and venture to Manila to find a job and help her poverty-entrenched family. She was miserably homesick, longing to go back home, but had no choice in the matter.

Her father, only in his forties, was a strong man but too afflicted with a passion for brandy and cockfights. He would waste his money earned from the harvest on foolish vices instead of providing for his family.

Her mother, a 'modern-day Sisa,' would often plow the fields herself whenever her husband was too hung over from the previous night’s carousing, which was almost always the case.




WEEPING WILLOW
posted: 11/05/05

It was a means to escape an impoverished life. To provide a better future for her son, Tomas, whose father turned out to be a married man with four children. She was young and gullible then; desperately believing Mario’s drunken words of a blissful eternal love. But as soon as she uttered the word pregnant, Mario flew out of their love nest like a bat out of hell.

Nine years later came Mr. Stanley, a retired dockworker from Baltimore, Maryland. The two benefit checks he receives regularly, one from social security and the other from his Teamster pension fund, amount to almost a quarter of a million pesos a month. When he proposed marriage, Feliza, with just a hint of pretentious reluctance, said yes.




SUMMERTIME SANTA
posted: 11/07/05

It was always a much anticipated event; far more exciting than Christmas, in fact — Uncle Jerry’s annual homecoming from his job abroad. There'd be lots of presents and chocolates, as well as trips to the mall for lunch and then shopping for toys for all the kids.

This time was no different. Almost every night there were unexpected friends dropping by to say hello, and as always, Auntie Myrna would quickly prepare something for the guys to nibble on to go along with their San Miguel beer, Emperador brandy and never-ending conversations.




LOST IN TRANSITION
posted: 11/10/05

Depending upon one’s perception, it’s either exhilarating or frightening how swiftly time seems to move. Conrado remembers as if only yesterday when he and his wife bought Boyet school supplies for his kindergarten class. And now, as if suddenly, his only son is entering his third year of high school at the end of the summer.

Nowadays, he worries that Boyet, who is autistic, might get lost in transition into adulthood without the capacity for adequately understanding the rigors involved in relationships. Will Boyet who is now getting more curious about girls eventually find someone to love who will love him back?




TWICE THE MAN
posted: 11/11/05

It was a brutal beating. Dennis suffered a broken jaw, a broken arm, a hideous black eye, and bruises on his arms and back. It was a beating fueled by pure hatred; mercilessly executed by someone bigger and stronger. It was his older brother, Junior.

Their mother was hysterical. She was shocked to see his older son letting loose on his little brother as if he were a rabid animal that had to be killed. The sound of the older boy’s fist pounding on the young boy’s chest and back reverberated into her heart; stifling her breath until she passed out.




SHOP FOR LIFE
posted: 11/17/05

If Pilosopong Tasyo was of this day and age, he would point out with utmost cynicism what gambling chips and credit cards have in common – plastic. And that plastic actually obscures the true value of money. Therefore, one tends to gamble or spend more with a piece of plastic than with actual cash as in Suzette’s story.

On the day she received her credit card, she took her boyfriend out to dinner after work at Friday’s in Robinson’s Malate. It was to celebrate her entry to the world of privileged adulthood: a major bank has entrusted her with a credit line twice the amount of her monthly gross salary.




ABOUT MANANG SETA (Part 1 of 2)
posted: 11/26/05

Manang Seta is able to do remarkable feats in her dreams—she can be the prima ballerina of the national ballet, overcome her fear of snakes, sail solo to distant seas on her high-tech yatch, or become a sultry jazz singer in New York’s Carlyle Hotel with Bobby Short on the piano. And through it all she never once doubted her abilities to become any of those things.

However, in her waking state, Manang Seta is a fearful, doubtful woman. Even the simplest of choices would make her eternally indecisive. Her basic arithmetic skills would escape her; she’d leave the market always feeling short-changed. Her sense of direction would get hazy; driving to and from nearby destinations has become a daunting task.




BY ALING MEDING (Part 2 of 2)
posted: 11/26/05

I left my husband, mind you; she, on the other hand, was abandoned by her husband. The fool ran off with his secretary. Not only that, her daughters decided to live with their father, not with her. That should tell you enough about Manang Seta!

So, what is so wrong about my expecting her to help me out? She has money; I don’t. Yes, I admit if it wasn’t for her and our brother, Edward, none of my children would have gone on to college. I thank them very much, but hey, I have six grandchildren now and you know how fast time flies. Before you know it, they’ll be getting ready for college as well.





A GRAND MOTHER
posted: 12/5/05

Aling Rosalinda was down in the basement folding the clothes from this morning’s wash. From where she was, she could hear her son, Willy, and his wife, Ishang, upstairs—still at each other’s throat. Arguments between husband and wife have been happening more frequently since Willy’s unemployment benefits had run out and the cash from his severance package began to dwindle.

With their older son attending college in Ohio and the youngest a senior in high school and a member of the hockey team (the most expensive sport in terms of equipment) the boys’ school expenditures are eating up the family’s cash reserve at an alarming rate. They have staggering loan payments that must be duly attended to, plus the monthly utility bills. The couple is at their wit’s end; constantly scrambling which obligation to prioritize.




GOT TO GET IN TO GET OUT
posted: 12/12/05

As they say, one’s anger can breathe life to a not so innocuous murmuring, and with the help of others with similar sentiments, turn it into a full-blown gossip. Regrettably, whosoever is the target of such rumor is doomed with a double whammy: correcting the wrong said and in so doing accuse the culprits of outright lying.

For a man well-known as reserved, though affable, the last thing Tito Romy would want to do is to publicly engage in a verbal battle against these women — the self-proclaimed social historians of the neighborhood. Besides, there is some truth in what they’re talking about -- that he has been enjoying a sort of afternoon trysts with the local beautician, while his wife, Tita Nely, was abroad.




RUNNING ON EMPTY
posted: 1/21/06

Everyone was at a loss for words when told what happened to William. He’s a friendly and soft-spoken guy not prone to macho posturing or senseless violence. Most see him as too timid and docile to provoke or engage in any caustic arguments

He remains in critical condition; one bullet remained lodged inside his chest. The other two — one on his left shoulder and the other on his left bicep — were already removed earlier. The remaining bullet requires a more invasive surgical procedure, and at his present condition, William may not survive such operation. They have to wait.




FORTUNE AND CHEATING HEART
posted: 1/26/05


Meet Paraluman Peralta of Dasmarinas Village, Makati City; age 24.

Well, not exactly her real name and locale. Neither is it her true age. She’s more commonly known as Puring who lives in Moriones in Tondo, Manila. She celebrated her 48th birthday last month.

She’s a grifter, and quite good at it. She preys upon unsuspecting men and swindles them not of money, but of their time and attention. Her base of operation: the Internet shop at the corner of J. Abad Santos Avenue and Batangas Street. Her mode of ensnaring: her blogsite at friendfinder.com.




ATTORNEY OUTLAW
posted: 2/16/06

Omar has been sitting for quite some time now on the bench by the videoke machine at SM Manila’s third floor. There's a young man singing a number of original Pilipino music or OPM tunes as they’re commonly referred to. Omar wasn’t so much captivated by his renditions, but simply lost in thought. He is thinking how life can be as deceiving as some of these popular pop tunes. The beat is infectiously bouncy but the lyrics of the song itself, if one only cares to pay a bit more attention, usually speak of depressing heartbreaks.

His thoughts then turned to his upcoming high school reunion. He always enjoyed these festive opportunities -- to mingle with old friends and trade personal updates. One of which was Roger who used to talk endlessly about his handgun collection; the other was Willy, although a resident of Los Angeles, would make it a point to come home every year to attend this get-together. Unfortunately, Roger and Willy won't be attending this year.




OF PAIN'S VIRTUE AND PIETY
posted: 3/02/06

As the plane taxied onto the runway, Carol gazed at the horizon whose orange hue indicated the sun about to rise. Not too many passengers were on this early morning Narita-bound flight, but the connecting flight from Narita to Kennedy would be a full one as is usually the case, she thought.

As the high-pitched sound of the whirling engines intensified, the plane began to gain the necessary speed for a lift off. So as to assuage her pre-flight jitters, Carol thumbed through her copy of Umberto Eco’s The Rule of Four; desperately trying to find the last page she was reading. She had absent-mindedly used her boarding pass as a bookmark; however, when she pulled it out to present to the gate attendants, she lost her place in the book. What she found instead, stuck in the middle pages, was what she has been using originally as a bookmark — a 3 X 5 photograph of her 92-year-old mother and herself taken underneath the mango tree in their backyard a week ago. And then suddenly, that recurring despicable thought once again flashed into her mind — when will she die?



CHANGES
posted: 3/13/06

The relationship between Leo and his son has been increasingly turbulent, especially since Junior recently dropped out of high school with only less than three months left on the school calendar.

This incident convinced Leo that his son was indeed a congenital idiot for having done it. He wasn't about to blame hormonal imbalance as the root cause of Junior's troubles because he had already passed puberty. Leo reached for a cigarette as if he could smoke away his troubles with his only son and namesake.




MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER
posted: 3/22/06

They had a good plan then: Linda would be the first to go and get settled in New York, while her husband David would stay behind to mind the children as they continued their schooling in Manila.

However, misfortune struck when only six months after Cindy had gone, the oldest of their three children, Tina, became pregnant; she and her boyfriend were only 17 at that time. Tina was supposed to earn a degree in Physical Therapy and then go to New York immediately afterwards, but her emotions precluded her better judgment; succumbing to the boyfriend’s carnal desires and now she’s pregnant. She had also moved out to live with her boyfriend at his parents’ house. Both David and Linda were heartbroken.




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Please note:
I very much appreciate my articles and photos appearing on fellow bloggers' sites, popular broadsheets, and local broadcast news segments, but I would appreciate even more a request for permission first. Thank you!


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posted by Señor Enrique at 9:03 AM | 24 comments


Wednesday, March 22, 2006

MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER


THEY HAD A GOOD PLAN THEN: Linda would be the first to go and get settled in New York, while her husband David would stay behind to mind the children as they continued their schooling in Manila.

However, misfortune struck when only six months after Cindy had gone, the oldest of their three children, Tina, became pregnant; she and her boyfriend were only 17 at that time. Tina was supposed to earn a degree in Physical Therapy and then go to New York immediately afterwards, but her emotions precluded her better judgment; succumbing to the boyfriend’s carnal desires and now she’s pregnant. She had also moved out to live with her boyfriend at his parents’ house. Both David and Linda were heartbroken.

So as to prevent the youngest child, Cindy, from suffering a similar fate, she was immediately sent to New York to live with her mother; she was only 12 then. The middle child, Ramon, was to follow suit upon graduating from high school.

But David’s plan to travel with Ramon fizzled out when another unpleasant twist of fate hit their Manila home — his father had a stroke which left half of his body paralyzed. David wouldn’t even think of leaving his bedridden father anytime soon, so all plans for him to go to the States were shelved.

Linda was dismayed by all the unfortunate turn of events. She felt guilty enough for having forced her husband to agree with her to move to the States at this point of their lives, and now David seemed to be at his wit’s end -- caring for his father who was convalescing indefinitely in the hospital. The strain was quite evident in his voice whenever they talked on the phone. As a show of support, Linda told her husband to prioritize his father’s needs above all else.

BY THE TIME LINDA WOULD GET HOME from work around midnight, her daughter Cindy would be fast asleep. But always, there would be food on the table that Cindy had cooked earlier. All that Linda had to do was heat it up in the microwave oven. She looked forward to coming home every night to delight in her daughter’s home-cooked meals. Grandma taught Cindy everything about cooking a year before she left to live with her mother.

Linda, rather unconsciously, would ponder on family problems while she feasted alone on her daughter’s cooking; in effect, finding comfort from food. Consequently, she began to steadily gain weight. Worse, she had fallen into a vicious cycle of overeating when depressed, and would get depressed when she overate. Linda’s self-esteem started hitting rock bottom.

FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CINDY HAS NOT GONE FOR A DENTAL CHECK UP in more than a year. She had asked her mother to set up an appointment for her when the continued swelling and bleeding in her gums began to frighten her.

The dentist didn’t take too long to diagnose Cindy’s problem. He called Linda at her job and matter-of-factly informed her of his findings: The bleeding in Cindy’s gum, as well as the discoloration of her teeth was caused by certain vitamin deficiencies, which was further exacerbated by the stomach acid that comes up with vomit — common to those suffering from bulimia.

The dentist suggested for Linda to bring Cindy to her regular physician immediately to confirm his diagnosis. Linda was aghast. Her sweet daughter couldn’t possibly be experiencing such problems.

Cindy vehemently denied it when confronted later on by her mother. Deep down, Linda desperately wanted to believe her daughter. However, there were sufficient telltale signs to support the dentist’s diagnosis. For one, Cindy has developed a fondness for chewing gum (to prevent bad breath caused by the stomach acid in her mouth) and would go through a can of air freshener much too quickly (to obscure the stench of vomit in the bathroom). In addition, upon closer inspection, Linda discovered that Cindy’s index finger was calloused and somewhat discolored; proof of her use of it to induce vomiting.

A week later, Cindy’s physician confirmed her fears — that Cindy was indeed suffering from bulimia nervosa. But however frailed her nerves were at that point, Linda nonetheless remained determined to help Cindy overcome her eating disorder. She contacted the therapist who came highly recommended by the physician and arranged for an immediate appointment.

AFTER ABOUT A YEAR OF WORKING as a staff nurse at Lenox Hill Hospital, an opportunity for a higher paying position as a private nurse came up. Linda grabbed it. Working on a 16-hour shift, she would share the duties of caring for an infirmed patient with another Filipina nurse (on the other but only 8-hour night shift) for which Linda received a little more than $500 a day. She only had one day off a week, but being exhausted from working the 7 am-to-11 pm shift, she would spend most of it sleeping. She practically had no time left to spend with Cindy. The young girl, on the other hand, had assimilated into a role of a responsible latchkey kid.

Invariably, no highly-prized position goes without its own political undercurrent. Firstly, private duty nursing is a cliquish affair and competitions can be fierce when getting a case (job assignment). The Filipina nurses are vying for the much sought-after cases against the Jamaicans, Irish, Indian and other ethnic group of nurses in New York. And those in the position to hire and fire thrive on the gifts and other forms of pricey bribes from desperate private duty nurses.

Secondly, malicious maneuverings within each group occur as well. Although Linda may be enjoying her day off, at the back of her mind was the horrible thought that the friend she had chosen to relieve her during her days off might be conniving with the nurse on the other shift to take over her position for good. All they have to do is convince the patient or the appointed family caregiver of the patient to displace her. It had happened once before. Rumor has it that someone convinced the patient to replace Linda with a slimmer, healthier-looking private duty nurse. It was at that time Linda became cognizant that her being overweight could be used against her.

Although some cases can last quite a long time, once the patient dies or checks out from the hospital to move to a nursing home, the private nurses lose their job and wait for a new case. At times, a more reliable source for a new case is a referral from a colleague. However, most of the Filipina private nurses in Linda’s group have been converting to a certain Christian movement. Once a member of it, they were encouraged to aggressively recruit others to convert as well. And if unsuccessful, would ostracize the unwilling person as a non-believer and thereby labeled a foe of the movement.

Linda felt the pressure to join, but she remained adamant; preferring to hold onto her Catholic faith. Yet she knew that once her current case has run its course, she faces the dismal possibility of not receiving any recommendation or invitation from among those peers. And should this happen, she may have to go back to working as a regular staff nurse. The ensuing drastic cut in salary, undoubtedly, would be distressful -- David’s father’s costly medical care alone is wholly dependent upon the money that Linda sends from New York.

On top of all these engrossing tribulations, Linda was about to deal with another serious dilemma; that of Cindy’s

IT TOOK ABOUT SIX MONTHS OF ONE-HOUR SESSIONS TWICE A WEEK for the therapist to gain Cindy’s trust and confidence, as well as unravel the truth behind her eating disorder. As it turned out, Cindy was a casualty of war in school waged not with fists and lethal weapons, but with scathing remarks, which can be even more detrimental to a young person's psyche. Apparently, a culture of cliques steep on intentional meanness ran rampant in her junior high school in which the different and unpopular students were often tormented and ostracized.

Cindy was among those who had become the butt of a clique's disdain; a constant subject to relentless teasing, taunting, and gossip-mongering just because she was different. She was usually not invited to parties that everyone would rave about, as well as ignored by the more popular girls in school. These were indeed demeaning incidents which always reduced her to tears.

Contrary to common belief, girls do engage in bullying just as frequently as boys do and could be just as vicious at it. And the most popular girls are not usually the nicest. The dominant figures in a clique with several hangers on are commonly referred to as “queen bees;” they set the tone of the group’s behavior and manner of dressing. What makes matters worse is that these bullies perceive their cruelty as hip and a cool thing to do.

Adverse effects of bullying are varied. The worst case scenario was the Columbine school shootings in which the perpetrators have been tormented by the school bullies for years. But in most cases, some victims suffer from nightmares while others lose interest in school altogether. For Cindy, it was developing a serious eating disorder. She was petrified of being hideously taunted for being fat as most overweight girls in school were often subjected to.

She was utterly miserable, but didn’t have the heart to approach her mother to discuss her troubled predicament. She was afraid of adding another burden to her mother who was already coping with more than enough problems of her own. Thus, Cindy suffered in silence.

LINDA SEEMED TO BE IN THE VERGE OF A BREAKDOWN after learning from the therapist the cause of her daughter’s problem. “This couldn’t possibly be happening to my baby,” she thought. “And neither should another problem as serious as this one should afflict our family. It’s just too unfair!”

For the first time in her life, Linda felt so completely alone. She terribly missed her husband and the spiritual strength he could provide at times like these. She was distraught by the realization that both she and her daughter — so far removed from their family in Manila — were basically experiencing a similar fate.

Although life back home was not one of affluence, they at least enjoyed the continual warmth and support of a tightly-knit family; getting by all right just the same. But Linda traded all that for a taste of the American dream, and it hasn’t been as auspicious as she had hoped it would be.

Be that as it may, Linda has to get her act together and fast. There’s quite a lot of reevaluations and decisions for her to make; the sooner, the better.


The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.


Art credit: MiArt 2006
Artist: Jordi Barnabas

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posted by Señor Enrique at 9:06 PM | 5 comments


Monday, March 13, 2006

CHANGES


THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LEO and his son has been increasingly turbulent, especially since Junior recently dropped out of high school with only less than three months left on the school calendar.

This incident convinced Leo that his son was indeed a congenital idiot for having done it. He wasn't about to blame hormonal imbalance as the root cause of Junior's troubles because he had already passed puberty. Leo reached for a cigarette as if he could smoke away his troubles with his only son and namesake.

Leo operates a car air-conditioning shop in Banawe right off Quezon Avenue. With a handful of similar shops cropping up in the same area, he had to keep his prices low so as to entice customers. He does all right, but business hasn’t been as brisk as the years past. If it hadn’t been for their modest lifestyle and the shop being rent-free — it’s at the ground floor of the house in which his family occupies — he might have already closed down the shop.

This property was willed to him, as well as to his brother and sister (who both live in America with their respective family) by their parents who have long ago passed away. Being in the midst of one of Quezon City’s thriving commercial districts, it could easily fetch at least thirty million pesos. Unfortunately, both brother and sister would immediately shun even the slightest hint of selling it. They both see it as their parents’ legacy borne out of hard work, perseverance and love of family. Easy for them to say, Leo would bitterly muse, for they both live a life of affluence in America.

Junior is the oldest of Leo’s and Amelia’s four children. He’s sixteen whereas the three sisters who followed range in age from fourteen down to six.

The family’s lean household budget would be further strained during the months of July and August; the period when Leo’s teenage nephews and nieces from the States would come over for their summer vacation. Although these teenagers receive substantial spending money from their respective parents during their vacations in Manila, no money was ever given to Leo and Amelia to defray the costs of feeding them during their stay. To make matters worse, the couple had to cater to their American tastes. Hence, Leo would resort to borrowing some cash from the Indian moneylenders at exorbitant interests. Nonetheless, he would always make sure that his nephews and nieces enjoy their vacations in Manila. Leo could be generous to a fault, indeed.

However, the visiting kids also seem to have their adverse influence on the younger Junior. Recently, he has developed a penchant for expensive clothing fashioned after America's popular hip-hop culture. And whenever his cousins were on the verge of running out of spending money, Junior would witness how they would get on their cellphones and demand more money from their parents; behavior that borders on arrogance and disrespect.

No parent wishes to raise a child with ill manners, but sometimes, in the States, when both parents put in long hours at work, they tend to over-compensate for their absence. Manipulative children often perceive this as a sign of weakness and become even more demanding. Worse, since the children have better command of the English language, the parents would find themselves tongue-tied -- unable to articulate their particular point of view. Sadly, they would oftentimes opt to just give in. This is what happened to Junior's stateside cousins. They grew up as spoiled brats; exploiting their parents' shortcomings to no end.

Apparently, in the process of trying to become just like his older cousins, Junior began to resent his own family’s modest background and his parents' inability to provide him with cool stuff. Hence Junior was fast becoming a recalcitrant son; even making a sport of ignoring even his father’s simplest wishes. This irks Leo to no end, but instead of engaging verbal battles with him, he would choose to simply ignore him altogether. Actually, Leo was more concerned that his temper, if uncontrolled, might provoke him into duking things out with his own son. He dreaded such thought.

Lately, tried as he might, Leo couldn’t help but notice Junior wearing new clothes and brandishing a new cellphone. Though already a recipient of slightly worn hand-me-down clothing and a cellphone from his cousins, Leo was unable to figure out where all these new stuff were coming from. And if fate had denied him a loyal son, it had, at least, gifted him with loyal employees. One of his mechanics at the shop told him about Junior’s activities: having partnered with a son of a corrupt cop, they have been selling shabu and marijuana inside an arcade at the nearby public market.

Amelia burst into tears when she was told by Leo about it. She was mortified by the thought of their son getting arrested and jailed. All along, Junior has led them to believe that he was working at this 24-hour arcade and computer shop with the intention of saving money to help pay for his final year of high school. He also claimed of working double-shifts at times -- sleeping at the back stockroom of the arcade. This explained why he sometimes didn’t come home.

A couple of days after learning about his illegal activities, Junior came home just as the couple and their three daughters were finishing their supper. When Leo looked up and locked eyes with his son, his face suddenly revealed a look of extreme pain. He started gasping as he clutched at his chest. He was having a heart attack.

Leo was rushed to the hospital and survived what could have been a tragic incident. However, only a month afterwards, he had to undergo a triple bypass surgery. The operation gave him a new lease on life, so to speak, but most importantly, it was also a moment of awakening for him.

As soon as he had fully recovered and regained mobility, he wrote his brother and sister a letter. In it, Leo expressed his agreement with their wishes to forever honor their dead parents’ legacy, but no longer at his own expense. The annual property taxes and the costs of maintaining an old house is eating away at the meager income of his shop, he told them. He suggested that they lease out the property. The income will pay for its annual upkeep and taxes, as well as for the services of a property manager. Whatever was left over they would then share. He also informed them of his plans to close down his shop and move to Pangasinan where Amelia inherited a farm from her parents.

He also mentioned their kids' fondness for vacationing in Manila; however, staying with them in a farm in Pangasinan would place them much too far from the trendy bars and clubs of Metro Manila, so Leo listed a couple of fancy hotels in Makati where their kids may prefer to stay when they come over next year.

Leo asked Junior to mail the letters and when he came back from his errand, Leo sat down with him for a man-to-man talk. Firstly, he told him of the plan to relocate to his mother’s province. He then admitted to his son that his life has been riddled with bitterness caused by his inability to stand up and speak his mind to his brother and sister. He had allowed them to intimidate him and take advantage of his timidity for far too long. The ill-effects of harboring bitterness and animosity have become unbearable for him.

Furthermore, he told Junior he had already forgiven him for whatever wrong he had done in the past. Forgiveness, he claims, has powerful healing effects in which he would rather immerse in. No more wallowing in angry and bitter thoughts. He then invited Junior to join them in their move to Pangasinan, or he could go to America to live with his cousins if that would make him happy.

Junior was dumbfounded. He was expecting to be lambasted for his wrongdoings and perhaps, even receive a long overdue beating from his father. But he received none of it. His father’s admission of having harbored deep-seated animosity struck a chord with him as well. He, too, was resentful for not experiencing a life of abundance as enjoyed by his cousins. However, being saddled with anger for not having everything he longed for only led him to less desirable paths.

Right there and then, Junior told his father that he’d rather live with them in the farm. He then confided that he had always dreamt of breeding Japanese koi. In fact, he has been privately studying the techniques involved, and now, the prospect of living in the farm would create the opportunity to fulfill his dream. And if he does well with his first pond, he plans to build another until everything becomes a flourishing enterprise. Leo stood up and hugged Junior. Nothing sounded more beautiful than hearing his only son wishing to remain with him and the family.

A couple of weeks passed before Leo received a phone call from his brother in America. He told Leo to go ahead and get the best purchase price for their property. However, before they divide the proceeds, his brother and sister suggested that ten percent should be deducted right off the top and given to Leo for his troubles of handling its sale. They will then equally share the remaining 90 percent.

Leo couldn’t be happier. He would soon be able to pay off the debts they had incurred when he was hospitalized, as well as have the necessary funds to develop the farm; neither would Junior had to wait for too long to build his first pond for breeding Japanese koi.


The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Photo credit: Koi-Brin




*

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posted by Señor Enrique at 12:17 PM | 4 comments


Thursday, March 02, 2006

OF PAIN’S VIRTUE AND PIETY


As the plane taxied onto the runway, Carol gazed at the horizon whose orange hue indicated the sun about to rise. Not too many passengers were on this early morning Narita-bound flight, but the connecting flight from Narita to Kennedy would be a full one as is usually the case, she thought.

As the high-pitched sound of the whirling engines intensified, the plane began to gain the necessary speed for a lift off. So as to assuage her pre-flight jitters, Carol thumbed through her copy of Umberto Eco’s The Rule of Four; desperately trying to find the last page she was reading. She had absent-mindedly used her boarding pass as a bookmark; however, when she pulled it out to present to the gate attendants, she lost her place in the book. What she found instead, stuck in the middle pages, was what she has been using originally as a bookmark — a 3 X 5 photograph of her 92-year-old mother and herself taken underneath the mango tree in their backyard a week ago. And then suddenly, that recurring despicable thought once again flashed into her mind — when will she die?

Despite her advanced age and intermittent bouts with arthritis, Carol's mother is fine. Except for the pills to regulate her blood pressure, she has no other prescribed medications to bother with. Her choice of exercise, which she adheres to quite strictly, is strolling around the yard during the early mornings and late afternoons. She has two maids to handle various household chores, help with her baths, and to keep her company. She's also blessed with the constant company of relatives from the province who take turns in coming over to stay in their house for extended periods of time. Indeed, she enjoys an idyllic home setting.

In addition, since about five years ago, her daughter Carol has been spending her annual one-month vacation in Manila. Being the only child, Carol absorbs all her mother's living and household expenses. These financial allotments were never a burden for Carol; in fact, she has no problem whatsoever when it comes to money matters. She earns an impressive income as a certified public accountant and has been with one of New York’s major accounting firms for more than twenty five years. Also, as a single woman with no kids and of senior executive position, she wields a far more substantial disposable income than those by her contemporaries.

Actually, Carol’s a widow; she has been one for twenty years. She and her husband were driving home from a weekend getaway trip in Upstate New York when their car unexpectedly veered and spun out of control. An 18-wheeler truck crashed onto them from behind — violently pushing their car into a ravine. Her husband died from massive cerebral hemorrhage. Carol, on the other hand, survived, but she sustained a spinal injury. Ever since regaining full consciousness at the hospital, Carol wished she had died in that tragic accident along with her husband. It was a death wish borne not by the usual survivor’s guilt syndrome, but by the excruciating pain from her injury that was to remain with her throughout the rest of her life; truly the proverbial fate worse than death.

Consequently, she developed an addiction to Vicodin; without it, she ceases to function.

A couple of years after the accident, she attempted to nurture new relationships — mostly to alleviate her loneliness — but Vicodin’s devious nature surreptitiously alters her emotional and mental stability. She can be incorrigibly petulant and unbearably sarcastic at times — somewhat tolerated in the corporate world but in more personal and intimate settings, such eccentricities can quickly erode any hope for meaningful relationships. She has been living alone in her well-appointed Upper East Side condominium apartment since the death of her husband.

Other than Vicodin, her annual vacations in the Philippines would also reconnect her with a childhood friend — now a doctor at a prestigious local hospital — who would willingly inject her with 50 mg. of Demerol upon request in return for those expensive gifts that Carol would buy her at New York's Tiffany and Cartier.

Carol can afford to give away expensive gifts. Aside from a spinal injury, the accident also left her with a million dollars from her husband’s double indemnity life insurance policy. She also received another million dollar cash settlement from the car manufacturer for its failure to duly recall their car even after it was discovered that it had a certain component known to cause such accidents.

Being a savvy accountant and a shrewd investor, Carol has more than tripled the value of her portfolio, comprised mainly of Manhattan real estate and stocks from blue chip and Internet start-up companies.

Her Philippine vacations also enabled her to regularly evaluate the amount of money she intends to leave to relatives and needy local institutions in the event of her death. If she could only permanently get rid of those excruciating pains, she would gladly trade her fortune for such opportunity. However, she is coping with an irreversible spinal injury and the pain-free state that she longs for, unfortunately, could only be attained through death. Hence, with no miracle cure in the offing, suicide has become her only viable option. She has since learned about self-induced cardiac arrest through Demerol overdose. What a blissful way to die, she thought. And if she were to pursue her plan, it would be right after her mother’s demise.

There is no definitive unit of measurement for pain; therefore, no one could possibly fathom the suffering that she constantly endures. To question her mental faculty for resorting to suicide would only be a futile attempt, especially when one has never experienced the searing pain that literally debilitates her entire being — emotionally, physically and spiritually. Indeed, such continual torture has warped her perspective on death and dying. She now equates suicide as simply akin to abortion. The pain that perpetually torments her is just as insidious as a repulsive incestuous rape; thus, she argues to herself, suicide becomes a fully justifiable choice. But no matter how Carol had deduced such final solution to her dilemma, nothing can be so hideous as to wish for her own mother's early passing so as to realize her own death wish. This is how her pain had ultimately corrupted her soul.

At this point of her life, she had given up on finding virtue and piety from her pain and suffering. Her dependence on painkillers had put her in the same league among hardcore, low life crack addicts who frequent skid rows. Ironically, this is her only means to make her life manageable.

Truth be told, Vicodin and Demerol do not completely eradicate her pain; in fact, the pain remains. Those analgesics only divert her attention away from the torturous throbbing sensation which seemingly paralyzes her entire being. This is the simple reason why painkillers become highly addictive. They offer a soothing cerebral sanctuary; a respite from what feels like a cursed and deranged human existence.

Sitting for long periods of time often trigger painful spasms in her lower spine area, so Carol popped two more Vicodin pills prior to disembarking when her plane landed at Narita Airport. Regrettably, an airport terminal is not the ideal environment to be stuck in when you're entranced in a mild opium-like state of delirium. The one hour waiting period in between flights dragged on as if in perpetuity. When she finally boarded the New York-bound flight and found her seat, all she could think of was taking a nap. She didn't have to expend too much effort; her incredibly comfortable first-class seat soon lulled her to sleep.

Unbeknownst to Carol, the passenger assigned to take the seat next to her is a New York-based medical doctor, a divorcé of about the same age as she. His revolutionary book on pain management was recently published and he was in Tokyo for a week-long conference; he was its keynote speaker.

The doctor was immediately drawn to her, and felt somewhat embarrassed when he found himself glancing too often at the slumbering Carol. It’s a long flight, he thought. They have ample time to chat and get to know one another later on.

Meanwhile, back in Sampaloc, Manila, Carol’s mother had just finished her mid-morning prayer. Like all mothers with distinct connection with their children, her intuition suggests something is troubling Carol. But since she has been keeping whatever it is to herself, the only thing she could do is pray for her daughter to be guided to find the perfect answer to her problem. And Carol's mother solemnly performs this daily ritual unfailingly.


The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.


Art credit:
Title: The Lost, 1986
Artist: James Child

Labels:

posted by Señor Enrique at 8:20 AM | 7 comments


Thursday, February 16, 2006

ATTORNEY OUTLAW


Omar has been sitting for quite some time now on the bench by the videoke machine at SM Manila’s third floor. There's a young man singing a number of original Pilipino music or OPM tunes as they’re commonly referred to. Omar wasn’t so much captivated by his renditions, but simply lost in thought. He is thinking how life can be as deceiving as some of these popular pop tunes. The beat is infectiously bouncy but the lyrics of the song itself, if one only cares to pay a bit more attention, usually speak of despressing heartbreaks.

His thoughts then turned to his upcoming high school reunion. He always enjoyed these festive opportunities -- to mingle with old friends and trade personal updates. One of which was Roger who used to talk endlessly about his handgun collection; the other was Willy, although a resident of Los Angeles, would make it a point to come home every year to attend this get-together. Unfortunately, Roger and Willy won't be attending this year.

Roger recently died from multiple gunshot wounds. It was because of a fracas over a minor traffic incident somewhere in Cavite. Roger was always quick to pull out his 45 to intimidate the other person into accepting the blame for whatever caused the incident. Standing at no more than five feet five inches, a handgun has always been a psychological quick fix for Roger to gain a grander stature. However, he wasn’t one to pull the trigger; it was all for show. Unfortunately, this time, the other driver had a handgun as well. He panicked when Roger pulled a gun to his face, so he grabbed his from underneath his seat and unthinkingly opened fire on Roger. There were eyewitnesses to vouch for what he claimed to be an act of self-defense. He was never charged for Roger’s death.

Willy, on the other hand, had a falling out with his wife of twenty years. She has recently filed for a divorce. The couple had been living way above their means and has been accumulating so much debt; the stress of which consequently affected their marriage. They had no other choice but to file for bankruptcy. Their assets had to be liquidated and distributed among their creditors. Gone are the gold cards to absorb the costs of Willy's airfare and luxury hotel accommodations. Neither can he afford to sustain the image of the affluent balikbayan as he used to flaunt all over Metro Manila. Therefore, no reunion party for Willy this year.

As Omar sat there on the bench by the videoke machine, he thought about his friendship with both Roger and Willy. The whole thing wasn’t actually built from admirable human traits; it was more a relationship founded on jealousy and competition. They feed off from each other's insecurities and inadequacies. And so as to gain a couple of notches ahead of the other two guys, Omar married someone not out of love but for her money. Much like Roger’s affinity for handguns, a rich woman was what Omar needed to obtain a grander stature in life.

However, Omar’s ulterior motives backfired on him. For one, his in-laws immediately detected his spurrious intentions from the onset. He was never fully accepted; merely relegated to hang on the fringe of the family circle. His wife eventually wised up and realized his falsehood, but remained too ashamed to admit it to her friends and family. She would, however, manifest her deep-seated resentment by sometimes publicly ridiculing Omar.

She has also seen to it that Omar never had any say or access to her money. Actually, she would even demand from him whatever little money he earns as an attorney, and hand him a measly daily allowance from which. She argues that since she allows him the use of one of her cars, there is no reason why he can’t come home for lunch, or better still, pack a lunch bag. For her, it has always been my house, my cars, or my every thing; rarely would she say ours. It was her preferred manner of speaking meant to belittle her husband.

Without the full support of his wife and her family’s influence, Omar’s law practice languished from the start. He was reduced to mostly taking on no-win criminal cases, as well as insoluble family land disputes. Most well-known law firms, afraid to invite his wife’s family’s wrath, shied away from hiring him. Although a gradute of a prestigious law school, among his peers, Omar has the dubious distinction of being at the bottom of the success ladder.

Fate may have deprived Omar with a loving support system, but his tenacity enabled him to make the kind of money he dreamt of although undesirable the means. Last year, a criminal case he was handling changed the course of his legal practice. It was a tough case, but his riveting courtroom arguments based on his exhaustive research of the case proved irrefragable. Omar could almost taste a stunning victory in the offing, but at the last minute sold out. He accepted a sizeable amount of money from the defendant’s family. In exchange, he deviously steered the remaining critical aspect of the trial against his client. And from that time on, Omar began to sell out his clients for a fee. Although a number of unethical trial attorneys benefit from his nefarious conduct, no one dares to be seen in his company.

Sadly, it is only in his annual high school reunion that for a few hours Omar could feel like a regular person. Reunions tend to highlight the past more so than the present so he feels quite safe and sanitized in such gatherings; besides, everyone is totally oblivious to what had become of him.

As the young man at the videoke starts to sing his final song, With A Smile, by Eraserheads, Omar slowly got up to head on over to the escalator that would take him up to the fourth floor. Inside the mall's south end men's room is a man waiting for him, an opposing attorney's assistant whose client had agreed to the price he demanded. He has a brown bag to discreetly hand over to Omar.

Tomorrow, Omar will turn fifty. He’s thinking of heading over to Glorietta that evening to buy himself a solid gold Rolex for his birthday. Surely, his high school buddies will be impressed when they see him wearing it at the upcoming reunion party. “Too bad, Roger and Willy won’t be there to see it,” he thought to himself.


Interesting links:

Punzi's Corner Blog
Blog Lecture No. 53: Disbarment and Suspension of Attorneys

La Vida Lawyer
The Price of Justice


The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

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posted by Señor Enrique at 11:18 AM | 4 comments


Thursday, January 26, 2006

Fortune and Cheating Heart


MEET PARALUMAN PERALTA of Dasmarinas Village, Makati City; age 24.

Well, not exactly her real name and locale. Neither is it her true age. She’s more commonly known as Puring who lives in Moriones in Tondo, Manila. She celebrated her 48th birthday last month.

She’s a grifter, and quite good at it. She preys upon unsuspecting men and swindles them not of money, but of their time and attention. Her base of operation: the Internet shop at the corner of J. Abad Santos Avenue and Batangas Street. Her mode of ensnaring: her blogsite at friendfinder.com.

Her entries illustrate a lonely life of a young socialite aboard a luxury yacht docked in the exotic island of Mustique in the Caribbean. It was supposedly her parent’s final attempt to separate her from as far away as possible from her lover in Manila — a good for nothing, two-bit Svengali. When readers asked where the lover is now, she would feign uncertainty; even speculating that he might have sold out his love for her by accepting a substantial amount of money from her father.

Intrigued by the opportunity to play the role of a knight in shining armor, four avid readers got hooked and have been corresponding with her consistently. Their ingenious suggestions on how to escape from her parents’ stifling grasp delighted her to no end. All of them eventually professed their respective deep concern and eventually, a love for her.

Puring was in heaven! She has never before experienced so much adoring attention. This was definitely much better than her favorite telenovelas or her real life for that matter.

HER MARRIAGE TO HER HUSBAND, Juancho, a second cousin, was pre-arranged by their parents. She never experienced the thrill of courtship or true love. Upon graduation from college, she was married and that was that. Consummation of their marriage was a loveless, one-bam-thank you-mam sexual episode that is more prevalent among drunk johns and cheap whores at sleazy brothels in Ongpin.

Six months after the wedding, Juancho flew to Saudi Arabia to pursue a career in engineering. In the more than twenty years he has been there, he would only come home to attend the funerals of his parents or sibling. However, like a dedicated husband, he did provide for Puring a comfortable life. They have no children for obvious reasons.

ONE DAY, PURING BEGAN to experience an even more intoxicating effect from a well-written prose by a new reader. He was Manuel from Negros Occidental. Her heart would seemingly miss a beat every time she received an email from him. He would disclose in the most romantic manner how he would attempt to release her from such cruel incarceration.

Suffice to say, the other online suitors were immediately dumped in favor of this Manuel who seemed to personify Don Juan and Cyrano de Bergerac combined.

Subsequently, his email would get a bit bolder. In one, Manuel described how the summer sunset would cast a golden glow on their bare bodies — shimmering with tiny beads of sweat from the heat of their passion — as they make love right there on the secluded Mustique beach. Their climactic whimpering and groaning would shamelessly compete against the seagulls’ harsh cries as if awakening the moon to cast its silver light. Puring was deliriously enchanted. She would repeatedly read this passage with erotic excitement.

However, Manuel confessed financial constraint stood in the way of executing his plans. He was somewhat embarrassed when he wrote that his money was allocated to his lawyers who were helping him retrieve his family’s farmland in Bacolod back from the land grabber whose family was politically-connected to the administration.

And then suddenly, Manuel stopped communicating. Puring thought she would lose her mind. Could it be that Manuel was killed by a member of the land grabber’s private army as Manuel had often alluded to?

But then one day, out of the blue, Puring received an email from Manuel; profusely apologizing for his long absence. He reasoned that he has been traveling; asking some relatives to loan him some money to pay the final installment of the lawyer fees he owed, as well as for the costs of surveys and legal documentations.

Puring’s better judgment was overwhelmed by her growing longing for Manuel; so much so that she suggested loaning him the money. But Manuel refused. He told her that he would be traveling up north to visit an uncle with high hopes he would be the one to provide him with the necessary funds.

It was another two months of not receiving any word from Manuel. Puring was literally going batty -- intensified by a growing longing to hear from Manuel.

Finally, an email arrived from him. He claimed that his uncle wouldn’t have any cash until after the harvest. However, his uncle knew someone in Baguio who could be of assistance so, off to Baguio he went. Unfortunately, he, too, was strapped for cash. That was the reason for his inability to communicate sooner.

This time, Puring wouldn’t hear any more refusals from Manuel. She demanded the name of his bank and account number. Immediately the following morning, she went to her bank and filled out the necessary forms to transfer half a million pesos to Manuel’s account. Puring had recently received a gift of cash from her father from the sale of some prized real estate properties in Binondo; she justified it was her own money, not from her husband Juancho; hence, she could do whatever she wished with it.

Manuel was greatly appreciative of Puring’s generosity. He was finally convinced, he told her, that he would win his case, especially now that he had the much needed funding. Unfortunately, that was the last email he received from Manuel. And that was almost a year ago.

Nowadays, Puring spends her time sitting by the window; idly wondering what life could have been with someone she truly loves.


Links

Magnificent Mustique
by Christina Valhouli, Forbes Magazine

Scams: Online and Offline
Protect yourself from clever Internet and other scams: Recent Internet ScamBusters issues


The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.


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posted by Señor Enrique at 7:41 AM | 8 comments


Saturday, January 21, 2006

RUNNING ON EMPTY


Everyone was at a loss for words when told what happened to William. He’s a friendly and soft-spoken guy not prone to macho posturing or senseless violence. Most see him as too timid and docile to provoke or engage in any caustic arguments

He remains in critical condition; one bullet remained lodged inside his chest. The other two — one on his left shoulder and the other on his left bicep — were already removed earlier. The remaining bullet requires a more invasive surgical procedure, and at his present condition, William may not survive such operation. They have to wait.

William’s father and mother, along with some other relatives were huddled in a corner of the waiting room; offering comfort to one another. William is the younger of their two children. The older child, Amy, is a nurse in a New Jersey hospital. The money that she sends over every month affords the family to live quite comfortably.

The father, like 27-year-old William, is just as docile and easily caves in to his domineering wife’s every demand. He has retired from his job as a civil servant, and his life’s only purpose nowadays it seems is to stay home and subserviently care for his wife. She’s a sickly woman; a willing host to numerous complaints and fond of self-diagnosing her ailments.

When the daughter from New Jersey sent them money to buy a car for the mother’s convenience and comfort, William was immediately designated as its driver. Never allowed to go abroad to pursue a more rewarding career and life of his own, William was expected to be much like his father — a caregiver and now his mother’s driver as well.

Cedric was in the same waiting room seated on a sofa next to Sonya, the family lawyer’s assistant. He was advised by the lawyer to remain quiet and not to say a single word to the police until he got to the hospital. The lawyer was in Tagaytay when summoned by William’s father. For good measure, he had Sonya who lives nearby go to the hospital and keep the young man company until he arrives.

Other than being cousins, Cedric and William are best of friends. He was with William the entire evening and the sole eyewitness to this senseless shooting.

What others do not know about William is — whenever behind the wheel alone or with Cedric — his personality would frighteningly transform from that of an innocuous and timid into another altogether different character — rude and malevolent.

He would become downright nasty at times; always ready with his middle finger or to trade curses with other drivers on the road. He would never give anyone a right of way — won’t even budge an inch — even if causing a severe tie-up in a busy intersection. He has no patience for slow moving pedestrians and wouldn’t think twice of cutting through an elderly person’s path struggling to cross the street.

William would often ignore stop signs and red lights, over speed, tailgate, weave in and out of traffic, pass on the right, make unsafe lane changes, and blind oncoming drivers with his super bright headlights. He apparently derives perverse pleasure from annoying other drivers.

Earlier that evening, on his usual menacing streak, he suddenly switched on into high beam his already super bright headlights onto an oncoming vehicle. When the other driver, blinded by the light, stepped on his brakes, William slowed down as he rolled down his windows and mockingly laughed at the direction of the stopped car’s driver as he passed it.

Cedric was mortified when the other car suddenly made a u-turn and trailed them at top speed. It was a hazadous chase through San Juan’s narrow and hilly streets. Not quite that familiar with the area, William suddenly found himself in a dead end street, unable to make a quick u-turn.

Reverse became impossible when the pursuing vehicle blocked their path. A man from the passenger side seat got off and walked over to William’s side of his car and opened fire with his pistol.

The noise of the bursts of bullets tripped off the alarms of the parked cars. Concerned by the blaring alarms that suddenly filled the streets, as well as people who started to come out of their houses, the gunman jumped back to their vehicle for a quick getaway. Their wheels screeched as the car backed away and made a turn at the corner. It then sped off away from the scene.

Although William was able to duck and dodged the bullets aimed at his head, three hit him on his upper body; one of which pierced him from his left side and lodged inside his chest. Cedric was completely unharmed but the frightening scenario made him urinate in his pants.

Just before the gunman ran back to their vehicle he shouted at Cedric, “I have your plate number and I will trace you and blow your brains out next time I find you!” Cedric was so terrified by the whole incident that he was still visibly shaking when the police and ambulance came.

It was nearing midnight when Cedric was accompanied by the lawyer and Sonya to the police headquarters to file an official report and answer some questions from the investigating officer. They were led to a small musty room lit by two bare 100-watt bulbs. They each grabbed a steel folding chair and waited for the inspector already on his way down from his upstairs office.

As Cedric sat there anticipating the questions the inspector might ask him, out in the hallway, through the open door, he heard an oddly familiar gravelly voice. As he slowly turned his head towards its source, Cedric was frozen in fright to recognize the gunman earlier that evening. He was now attired in a police officer uniform, standing by the water fountain; idly chatting with two of his fellow police officers.


Links

Three Studies: Aggressive Driving, Road Rage, and Driver Aggression

How to Avoid Road Rage

The Opposite Situation: A Domineering and Tyrannical Mother



*The foregoing story is purely a work of fiction. Any similarities between any characters herein and actual persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Labels:

posted by Señor Enrique at 7:05 AM | 2 comments


Life in Manila as observed by a former New Yorker who with a laptop and camera has reinvented himself as a storyteller. Winner of the PHILIPPINE BLOG AWARDS: Best Photo Blog in 2007 and three Best Single Post awards in 2008.

 
 

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