Marven’s First Novel, chapter #02

     Merlito learned from Jim that Jake has flown out of the country and is probably now in Europe. Now he and his friend can now be seen walking the length of the neighborhood’s concrete secondary road in the south at about four o'clock in the afternoon when the sun was still a little up and shining on their backs. They were going the way of the creek eastwards, keeping their feet stepping on the sidewalk, under which, is buried the concrete pipes of the neighborhood's very-efficient drainage system, the waters in which, during rains, would be filtered before going out into the lake and rivers or at least watering the fields below. Because of this, it really didn't matter whether it rained hard. Within minutes, the concrete road would dry and would look as though it just had a thorough washing and would even look better and cleaner than during sunny days.

     At that moment, they passed the inside street where the house of Merlito's older cousin named Emily is by. The latter is one of those successful individuals in the neighborhood because all, or perhaps almost all, of the families who lived there were originally poor. But as some of the heads of those families took it to their heads to send their children to school until the end, in public schools and state universities mostly because of the poverty status, and took care of their overall wellbeing as growing impressionable young people, those former snotty little children became breadwinners. Some of them even landed high-paying jobs which enabled them to give something back to their parents and transform the old shacks or flimsy wooden houses they grew up in into nice-looking concrete houses. In this way, the family that was once totally poor became middle class. Some of them moved out into the metropolis, while some chose to stay, like Emily. She now works in a known company and is currently in a promoted status receiving a crazy-high salary that Merlito could just dream of. She got married to a college classmate who was as successful as she is and was also able to produce a house for himself in his city of origin, but she convinced him to raise their first child so far in her semi-rural neighborhood. She reasoned it was more peaceful here. Their son's name is Hans Christian or Hans, for short, because young parents of her generation love naming their children compound names. Merlito so much admired the way she lived her life that he found himself living in her shadow, setting out on a life imitating his cousin's, every step of the way. That's why he seems to be very raring and concentrated in finding work in the financial center because that's where she also goes for office every day although she may have also worked someplace else.

     Below the elevated road is a field, a few meters wide, of cracked clay with a few outgrowths of grass accessible through the sloping soil in between. Next to it is the creek teeming with bunches of running water lilies. And beyond are vast fields of melon or of whatever fruit was planted there and farther whose end could not be seen by the naked eye. After taking more or less than a hundred steps, they reached the end of the concrete road and thus the previous end of the neighborhood. What then lay before them next was an extension, a recently-built network of roads of pure soil. The roads and blocks in this new extension are landscaped quite differently from the earlier sub-areas to indeed distinguish it as another one. Some bulldozers that regularly run to and fro creating this landscape can still be seen and is still in operation for the entire duration of the summer.

     At this point, the foliage that was spread across the terrain of the mountain range from afar in front of them, from looking bluish at a farther distance, like from the second floor of a house in the center of the neighborhood, had become greener; and the features that pop out from it, more distinct. These things, that appeared so little and almost invisible from their house or any other place in the neighborhood, now, at this point, looked larger and distinguishable. Among them are those electricity towers, those some sort of square banners which he still didn't know what really are, and those white edifices at the foot which, as a child, he thought to be dump trucks buried underneath the smoky mountain that used to exist in the nether part of the city, got stuck there, and were no longer able pull themselves out up to the present day, thus lying there like mythological creatures vanquished in an epic battle expiring with eyes wide open. It is those eyes that specifically scared him as a child. They stared at him humanlike everytime he looked at them from their front yard which now had become part of the interior of their house. However, those eyes were actually the broken headlights of the buried dump trucks that had ceased to function. But that is false too. What he always thought to be the glaring eyes of mythological beasts or the headlights of the dump trucks were actually windows, as the eyes are windows to the soul. These edifices definitely stood out among the other things off the mountain range especially during siesta hours of the early afternoon when the sun directly hits their whitish coat of paint. As he grew older, he eventually learned that the green mound that ever presented itself arrayed in the east ain’t no smoky mountain but was actually the Sierra Madre or the areas of the town and of adjacent towns situated on hills. Because as a child, he never questioned how the smoky mountain could be visible in that direction when it was actually located the other way around.

     To their left are empty blocks that the new roads of soil naturally created. Looking at these, he hoped they would no longer extend further and this "development" stop where it is. The area it covered should be enough.

     In the middle of the sub-area, they saw a newly-setup, large, and bountifulltly furnished hardware and construction-supply store occupying two corner lots where they have stocks of almost all kinds of construction materials——concrete, wood, and steel——on the side.

     Almost in front of it or a few distance opposite it below the road was pitched a large temporary tent covering a small eatery, a sari-sari store, and a karaoke machine. A song has just finished and the bombastic score tune just followed when they passed there and saw the tough-looking skinny singer wearing a sando jersey and jersey shorts, each of different colors. Because it was the norm in the neighborhood for jerseys to be worn of different colors if only worn as house clothes. Otherwise, it would look as if they were dressing for a basketball game. Going back, the tough-looking skinny singer ascended on the road, turned left, and came across them. Then a middle-aged lady from the tent yelled at him and said:

     "Hey, you still have another song!"

     The man replied, "Just sing it. I forgot it's already..." The man mentioned the title of an afternoon drama. "I'd be late."

     "Ah, okay."

     The man scampered away.

     The lady attended to the machine, held the microphone, looked around the people behind her, and said loudly as if scolding, "Does anyone know the song?"

     "My friend does!" Jim heartily shouted, smiling, as he and Merlito passed the tent from above.

     The lady promptly looked toward their direction, beckoned, and shouted, "Come down here, then, and sing it. Come on."

     They both stopped as this was being said. Now Merlito looked Jim askance and said, "What did you just do?"

     "Sorry. It just came to me. I just thought you sang. You do, don't you?"

     "Yes, I sing. I can sing. I sang in school. I was a party singer, your singer for all seasons."

     "Right. Let's go, then."

     They descended and headed for the karaoke machine.

     "It's just not right," Merlito said. "I just don't think it's fair for the people involved to expose them to the awesomeness of my singing. They may not be ready for it. I worry about them."

     "I'm sure they can handle it. Go and pick up the microphone."

     The song already started, and Merlito missed a few opening lines. As he started hitting the notes, his pitch frequently wavered to sharps and flats, and it continued throughout. Nevertheless, his singing seemed to have left the folks speechless as they watched the screen of the karaoke machine. Maybe it was just first impression.

     Whilst he was continually singing, another individual entered the tent walking along the road of soil and descending from it. His approach and the slight shadow he cast slightly caught the attention of the elderlies whom he then flocked himself amongst and conversed with in a relaxed manner and manly voice. This individual turned out to be a young man with a darker skin than the rest and a muscular body and wore a tight black tank top and gray jogging pants. The chiseled buns on his chest and, very vaguely, his six-pack abs popped through and was outlined by his upper garment. In fact, his entire outfit or perhaps any clothes he chose to wear simply wouldn't help but outline his seemingly-natural muscular body and chiseled form which might also have been enhanced by some workouts. In short, his entire person reeks of masculinity.

     Apparently, he has been drawn by Merlito's singing because the volume of the karaoke machine was loud and could be heard from the houses in the nether part of the neighborhood. And with the elders, he sat and listened to and watched Merlito sing, now, surprisingly, crossing his legs tight like an artist, swinging and shaking his chiseled thighs and legs.

     When the song was over, the karaoke machine heralded an 80+ score. Ado stood up and approached the machine. The lady smiled, slightly clapped, and sighed approvingly, "Okay," and then asked Merlito where he lived.

     The latter answer factually while the newcomer browsed through the song-list binder.

     The lady continued, "Are you interested in joining our singing contest or karaoke tournament. We just thought of having it, just for fun, to make full use of this karaoke machine. I think you sing good."

     "Nice," Jim first exclaimed, smiling.

     Merlito smiled downcast bashfully, turned to Jim, whispered to Jim, "I told you," turned his head back before him toward the lady, and said, "Uh... Yeah," at first confusedly and then firmly, "Yes, ma'am."

     "What do you think Ado?" The lady turned to and addressed the muscular young man who was then readying his coin and taking hold of the microphone. Do you think he can compete?"

     Contrary to the latter's earlier relaxed manner and voice, he seemed to have shifted to moving his arms delicately and uttering words softly and jazzly, which seemed to be his natural tone. "Yeah. I think so." Then he dropped his coin, drew about two steps back, and postured himself for singing. Again, this was all done delicately and jazzly.

     "Will there be some sort of cash prize, ma'am?" Jim asked.

     "Just a little. Like I said, it's just for fun, a little bit of fun this summer. Depending on turnout of this event, Who knows? We can make this an annual thing."

     "That's just so exciting, isn't it?" Jim said.

     The lady said to Merlito, "Come up with a better song next time, huh."

     "Yes, ma'am," Merlito sighed bashfully and then turned to Jim.

     The two friends had already wondered when they heard Ado chose a female song. But they were even more surprised when he entered his vocals in a rich and loud falsetto exactly imitating the original female artist's voice and dynamics with his male vocal chords.

     The lady continued, "So, I hope you two would come back here and compete."

     "Yes, ma'am. We'll be here," Jim replied. "Well, if not me, Merlito will be here for sure."

     "Thanks again for this invitation, ma'am."

     The lady specified a specific day and hour for them to come back next week.

     Merlito and Jim finally ascended the sloping soil towards the road and resumed their walk. The two walked on further until they almost reached the end of the road. Below it, still by the creek, was some loud and wacky activity engaged in by a dozen individuals and watched by a handful of spectators: a volleyball game which was also somewhat prevalent sport in the community, not as much as basketball, during summer because it was the time when school was over and the fields were parched dry, leaving its soil cracked open throughout. The field, on which, the heightened excitement and hilarity took place was wide enough to put away the fear that the ball might fall into the creek except perhaps by willful negligence. The fresh and husky coco lumber poles that held and stretched out the net were fastened on the north and south points, and the opposite courts were therefore on the west and east. A fresh wind blew from the fields in the south. From left to right and right to left and vice versa flew a colorful leather ball, and that otherwise peaceful and quiet part of the wilderness was made noisy by the blabbers and exclamations of mainly members of the federation. By Merlito's urging, the two of them stopped and stood at the edge of the road and became two of the spectators. They got so engrossed in watching the game that they didn't notice Ado, the muscular singer of earlier, coming to the scene and mixing himself among the other spectators. The latter might have been able to see them although they didn't see him and probably had just one song and then proceeded to the volleyball field.

     After a set is finished, two or three players excused themselves and quitted the game, saying they were going home already. One player who had seen Merlito during the game and knows him as a neighbor and recognizes his knowledge of the game softly beckoned him to enter the court.

     “Sure,” Merlito replied joyfully. Then turning to Jim, he said, "Would you like to play too? Come on."

     "Sure," Jim replied.

     They both descended the field and jogged into the court. Merlito placed himself in the back row because that's where his functions would probably be: as a filler, helper, stopper. Because he's not that good although he can definitely control the ball once it lands on the bones of his arms and does so in a peculiar diva-like manner. Ado, the macho diva, also jogged into the court; and thus, the number of players were complete. Then another set ensued.

     Merlito was overwhelmed and intimidated at seeing the skill level of the players, including his neighbor, firsthand. But to his surprise and honor, his teammates didn't disregard him, seeing that he could play, and even set the ball for him at times when he is at the front row according to rotation. But to their outspoken disappointment, he would often miss the ball because he's not yet good and didn't get enough practice at getting the right timing to jump and hit. They seemed to have expected this to be default of him. Therefore, at times when he missed the timing, he would just be lucky to be able to drop the ball quickly by tapping it straight down with his fingertips, called "hulog"; and that's when he would hear the word nice from his teammates. This technique is a surer way to earn points. But where's the thrill in that? It's amateurish at best. All pros spike. You won't see them simply dropping the ball.

     When Merlito found himself beside his neighbor, he asked him if they'd still be here tomorrow. The latter answered that he was not sure but that Merlito could go here anytime any day in the afternoon to check.

     "Okay," Merlito replied and then paused and considered.

     At that moment, the ball came to Merlito's neighbor. The fellow was surprised but still stopped the ball well at high altitude. Then he said to Merlito, "Go over there. We'll set it for you."

     "Thanks," Merlito said and then did as told.

     "Set it for him!" the neighbor shouted to the teammate who was going to touch the ball second.

     The said teammate received the ball perfectly and was able to steer it exactly in the place where he wants it which is by the net near where Merlito was, for the latter to lunge for and smack.

     Energized by his neighbor's kind words, Merlito, by mere pure chance, got the perfect timing for all the steps involved in a smashing spike and solidly hit the ball which then came crushing down irretrievably. One tried vainly to retrieve it: Ado who, as a consequence, received the ball poorly with both upper arms instead of lower, causing it to, instead of fly upward, bounce into his face. As a result, there was a genuine contortion of face and he reeled, set himself down on his knees, wrapped his face with both hands, and howled femininely.

     Everybody exclaimed, "Woah," stopped, and attended to Ado, including Merlito and Jim.

     Consternation was written in Merlito's face and he immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, man. Please forgive me," he said in a sincerely apologetic tone.

     Ado didn't respond but rubbed his reddened face with his palms repeatedly.

     "Are you okay?" a few of them asked, sincerely concerned.

     "I'm okay." Then Ado rose up without looking at anyone and got himself back on his feet and ready for the resumption of the game.

     Seeing his attitude, everybody said, "All right. Let's continue," and also got themselves ready.

     "I'm quitting. I'll go home now," Merlito said.

     "Just finish the game. We'll go home too after this. Don't think about it much. But if there's a chance, maybe allow yourself to be hit in the face too?"

     "Okay."

     The game resumed. While it lasted, Merlito didn't get hit in the face. When it ended, everybody already called it a day. As he and Jim were ascending the road, Merlito looked back at his neighbor and said:

     "Can I come back tomorrow? Will you still be here tomorrow?"

     "Maybe. I don't think this net will ever go vacant as long as it stands."

     "Thanks."

     Going back in the road, the two friends resumed their planned walk, which is around that area counterclockwise. The rest went the other way, which is where the two of them came from.

    Finally, they reached the end of the road. As they did, they turned left. It was already late in the afternoon and the sun was about to set. Now alone and away from the crowd, the two became aware of how warm, dingy, and thirsty they are. Both of them were bathing in perspiration and dust. Jim suggested they go back to the tent to buy something cold to drink, but Merlito said that that would distract them from their planned route and they would just have a cold drink in the house. As they took the last horizontal road, they would constantly look to their right and see the outskirts of their neighborhood to the east. There, they saw a few villagers by their huts, a few carabaos or water buffaloes standing or tied to a stake, and tall grasses being burnt. When they saw a large rock planted in the sloping soil, Merlito said:

     "Let's rest a little over there."

     They went to the rock, and Jim sat on it and Merlito stood behind him. There, they relaxed their fatigue, dinginess, and perspiration as they gazed over the fields. When they have relaxed for less than five minutes, they rose up and resumed their counterclockwise route.

     When they reached the corner, they saw a long and smooth sloping soil that led to the fields, apparently for the passage of vehicles. Then they turned left and now faced the sun. What now lay before them was that defunct water tower that arguably used to supply water in their community. Not anymore, though, because the neighborhood already had in each household organized water lines from the Nawasa itself ever since a few years back. That dome, no matter how big it looked, could arguably ever have had that capacity to supply the whole neighborhood. Maybe it did in only some areas but not in all. But, as a child, he remembered their household taps running with water from a deep-well source. And there was also once, in the corner of a vacant block, a hose running with deep-well water, from which, they would fetch when water is out in their taps. There were also artesian wells scattered in certain places dug by householders mostly in vacant grassy lots. So, could all of that water have come from that water tower? Hardly.

     As to their drinking water, in the past, some of their neighbors would engage in the business of selling it which is called by institution that supplies it, nawasa. They did this by going to its source in a not-so-faraway place in the city riding in regular-sized bicycles with square steel enclosures as sidecars holding a dozen or more containers whose appearance was peculiar to its day, fall in line towards the nawasa tap, fetch it into their containers, venture homewards with now an added burden and pedal down the road alongside motorized vehicles, and, once home, peddle the nawasa with their side-carred bikes around the neighborhood. Every household in the community usually had containers similar to that of the peddlers but not as many. And these they used as the containers where to keep their drinking water source. What happens is that there was a transfer of content from one to another. One got filled up and another emptied. This was done very precisely and not a drip was wasted. These water containers were made of thick plastic and are rectangular in shape and have a hole and lid on top. It had no tap below. Again, the appearance of these containers is peculiar to its day and is no longer existent. Water for drinking and cooking was nawasa, while one that is not so purified for other household use and for watering plants and dusty half-courts was "deep well". All of this has changed now, of course, ever since each household in the neighborhood already got connected to a steady water line of nawasa, good for both household use and drinking. The latter only has to be filtered further using an apparatus to be perfectly safe.

     The water tower which Merlito and Jim were now seeing before them stood a little distance away from the last concrete road which used to be the edge of their neighborhood. It stood on what used to be part of the fields and was the prominent feature of the fields. There it once stood desolately and ominously in the middle like a scary giant tree. Parents would definitely scold their children if they strayed as far as the water tower. That is why this structure always filled his young mind with mystery. At night, it stood solitarily under the moonlight, and he would hear rumors of sightings of ghosts hovering around it, either creatures of the country folklore like aswangs or disembodied spirits of the deceased. Nowadays, it's nothing more than an abandoned rusty piece of tin can that still had outgrowths of grass below. When Merlito and Jim reached it, they stopped by underneath it. They rested a little by resting their backs on its beams. Then they looked around it and up at the dome as if inspecting it. Afterwards, they left and walked on until they reached the concrete road and came back to civilization. After taking some hundred steps more, they reached the corner of the inside street where's Merlito's house is and then turned and got home to Merlito's house. Merlito immediately led his friend to the refrigerator. That's right. Although Merlito's family is just poor and the floor of their house is up to this day still soil, they have a refrigerator in the house because it's essential. It's very important for preserving unfinished food and food ingredients that are yet to be cooked and for keeping water and beverages cold. Merlito and Jim gobbled up liters of cold water. After that, the latter went home and Merlito rested in his room on his wooden bed.

from The Simple Adventures of a Simple Simpleton

by: Marven T. Baldo