Feelings

By September 30, 2008Feelings, Opinion

One day in her life

By Emmanuelle

Hedges have eyes, and walls have ears. People, too. Or haven’t you noticed?

Anyway, this story is not about hedges that have eyes, or walls that have ears, or people who have eyes and ears or haven’t you noticed. Though someday, more than one story will have to be written about hedges that have ears, or walls that have eyes, or people who have big noses and thick lips. Or haven’t you noticed.

This is a story about one day in her life. Whose life? Hers. She, who tells stories.

She walks in this fastfood. A chorus of toothy smiles and varied-pitched voices greet her first step through the as yet smudge-free glass door – the boyguard, the boy manager, the counter girls and boys, the busboy, and another boy who looks up from mopping the floor.

Unbelievable. She gasps. She is swamped backward by the cheery wave of healthy toothiness. For a person whose lower lids are huge dark bags to catch the eyes when they drop weary from overuse and oversight, these bright young things are too much to take before breakfast. Too much toothpaste ad when one does not need yet to brush.

She thinks of withdrawing the foot. The boyguard, thinking she hesitates because the floor had just been mopped, takes hold of her left arm, pulls her in confidently and escorts her to a red plastic table with two red seats by the thick glass wall, far away from the floor that had just been mopped, and farther still from the as yet smudge-free glass door.

“Hindi na po kayo madudulas banda rito,” he assures her. “Hindi na rin ako makakalalabas kung ayaw ko rito,” she says, but only to herself, only to herself.

She shuffles to the counter, and not because she is that old. The floor had just been mopped, or haven’t you been told?

She brings back to the red plastic table by the thick glass wall a red tray half-loaded with a hamburger that has no ham but with a real cute meat putty with a teardrop of pink mayonnaise, a large-sized packet of potato fries and a big plastic of a soda upgraded. She didn’t mean to spend extra for the large fries and upgraded soda, but these bright young things are so fast she just could not quite catch up. “Your order is a hamburger?” Yes. “With fries regular or large?” Yes. “Large?” Yes. “Regular soda?” Yes. “Would you like that upgraded?” Yes. “That would be 15 bucks more.” Yes. “Ma’am, your order is one hamburger, large fries, upgraded soda?” Yes. Yes. Yes. Tama na, please.

Fastfoods do not provide any sharp instrument that could cut open the catsup, nor a platito to pour it unto. Or haven’t you noticed. Parang ayaw yata nila pabuksan. So she fishes for a cutter from her bag, the same cutter she would use to scare a celfon-snatcher and any of those monsters that spring out of dark corners. She cuts the catsup packet from top to bottom. She lays it gently atop a napkin like so much dead bloody weight. At first sawsaw and chomp of a potato, she looks out the thick glass wall.

She sees a child reaching out a begging hand on the other side. Then another child runs to join the first child, but this second one mimes a drink from a glass. More children coming. All rushing.

She asks the glass. These children beg in groups, in hordes? The glass does not answer. She looks closer at the children. Some are clean, some not so clean, but she can see some order in their clothes and their hair and the slippers on their feet. She puts on her glasses and tries to peer farther round the corner of the building where they seemed to have sprung. She sees a tricyle, inside and around which are more children. A man in his thirties, the driver perhaps, hurries them along. He pats their heads or tugs straight the clothes they wear. Like a father to his kids. Only so many kids of almost the same age are impossible to be all his.

Not even a day has passed. Almusal pa lamang iyan, hane?!

(Readers may reach columnist at jingmil@yahoo.com. For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/feelings/
For reactions to this column, click “Send MESSAGES, OPINIONS, COMMENTS” on default page.)

Share your Comments or Reactions

comments

Powered by Facebook Comments