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I woke up that morning with much excitement and anticipation for the day’s agenda. It was the first time that I would be spending time with her after so many months.
I got out of bed and followed my morning routine. After an hour or so of my daily AM ritual, I was finally ready to see her. I even skipped reading the newspaper or watching my favorite morning show on television because of the enthusiasm.
She was an adorable one-year-old; with hazel eyes, curly dark brown hair, and fair skin. She was chubby, indeed which made her much cuter than any kid I had ever seen.
I rode my bike to their place on the other side of the freeway, not far from where I live. It was quite unfortunate that I never got to see her as often as I wanted, not that I was barred, but because I hindered myself from doing so due to past issues with her mom.
I crossed the highway through the interchange, and got the ticket as I entered the tollgate.
“Why was I able to enter the expressway?” I asked myself. “I thought sub-400cc motorcycles are banned here.”
I pulled over thinking that I might have violated the law. I left my bike on the shoulder lane and jumped over the wall to the railroad. Traversing the tracks would have been a daunting task, I figured. There were a lot of squatters who chose to live on this expanse, freeloading on government property. But they were all gone this time. Our nation’s leaders had relocated them to a far away land, to reconstruct the Metro’s rail system and reopen the capital to a vast trade and transport opportunities.
Finally, I got to their place. I knocked, and waited…patiently. I was enthused from the beginning but the excitement turned to anxiety.
“Will she go with me? Will she still recognize me to begin with?” I had to ask myself. The longer I waited, the heavier the feeling got.
The door slowly opened and out came her mother.
“Hello!” she exclaimed. “How are you?”
“I’m good, yourself?”
“It has been hectic, but I’m doing fine. Look, thank you so much for doing this. I know I can count on you.”
“It’s alright. So, where is she?”
“She will be out in a second.”
Silence blanketed the moment thereafter. I knew there were things to be said. The words were long overdue but I still left at that.
She had wanted time off from taking care of her child, but the opportunity never came partly because there was no one to look after her baby, at least no one that she could trust. I had always been there, but she never tapped my services, and I never volunteered because of… self-preservation.
We were there, standing by their doorstep, smiling at each other. Moments later she came out.
I was stunned; she looked more like her mother this time. I had to rely on the photos sent to me by her mom in those months that I didn’t get to see her personally. And this actuality was so different from any visual representation of her.
“Here she is!” said mother.
I was flushed as I carried her, “Do you still remember me?”
I got a weird stare from this one-year-old, but she looked at me as if she was trying to discern who I was. But she let me carry her, given that she didn’t normally go with strangers, and that in itself gave me comfort.
I didn’t really have much in mind about what activities to do with her, but I knew I had to make the day special.
And so we left there home, with me carrying her.
In some surreal transfiguration, the day turned to dusk.
“Did we stay by the doorstep for that long a time?”
I had to hurry a little, for nothing might happen in that special moment with her. I jumped the fence into the premises of a PLDT (Philippine Long Distance Telephone) branch. Surreptitiously, I crept along a field of grass on to the other side of the vicinity. The dark gave us good cover from the elite guards warding the place. They carried high-powered rifles, and vested sophisticated camouflage outfit. And all I had was the skill of deception, I was cunning, I was stealthy.
Using techniques I never knew I possesed until that time, we were able to evade capture. I jumped the fence on the other side and on to freedom.
We entered this restaurant that looked pretty much familiar. The architecture and interior design told that the place was Japanese. I knew I had been there before, didn’t know when, but I believed I had a great time back then. I was walking around looking for a table when I came across my mom and some relatives dining.
“Oh… who is that baby?”
“Isn’t she adorable?”
“May I carry her?”
“How old is she?”
As they played with the baby I went to this small park at the back of the establishment. It brought back memories… memories that I could not clearly remember.
I walked inside and played with the kid. A few moments later she fell asleep, drooling as I carried her in my arms.
I strolled around the empty streets of the city that night, watching her as she gadded around dreamland. Then my phone rang. It was her mother.
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Writer Profile
Jay-R Patron
Jay-R Patron, 24 years old, currently works as content provider for a multinational IT consultancy firm, under its interactive marketing department.
He was a writer for Hawaii-based Greater Good Inc., a media company behind the much-acclaimed Greater Good Radio. The show promotes social entrepreneurship and servant leadership.
Jay-r is a Journalism and Communication and Media Studies graduate from the University of Southern Queensland.
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