This short story is a rejected and unpublished piece for a literary folio. I decided to publish it on my blog after three months. This is a work of fiction.
Mother was appalled. She couldn’t bear the pain. It’s as if all the misfortunes in the world descended upon her.
Dad got COVID. He was a doctor at a public hospital. For three weeks, he attended to patients severely infected by this disease. Apparently, COVID still got inside his body despite wearing a thick PPE every day.
Because he died of COVID, his cadaver went straight to the cremation. No wake to celebrate his wondrous life. No funeral to bid our final goodbyes.
Mother set an altar in the living room, with his picture like a graduating student. His smile recognizable, his teeth as clean as Mr. Clean.
Three candles surrounded his picture. And a flower from his estranged sister living in Florida. Mother was a bit surprised his sister cared for his death. She thought that he was nonexistent in her view.
–
Three weeks in, and the enhanced community quarantine wasn’t lifted yet. Mother remains deep in sorrow. One time she hugged dad’s tuxedo while crying a la teleserye queen. I won’t go into her room to give her time to contemplate.
The next day, she saw me browsing through Tinder, the dating app.
“Anak, what’s that?” she asked.
“Tinder po, ma,” I replied.
As a 53-year-old salon manager, she has no idea what Tinder was all about. She thought it’s a carbon copy of Facebook or Instagram, both of which she only learned the past year.
“Anong meron diyan?” she asked repeatedly.
I couldn’t tell her what Tinder is. She might get hopping mad if she knew that I’m thirsty to get a man this quarantine. I just recently broke up with my boyfriend, and the urge couldn’t be any stronger.
“Ano ngang meron diyan?” she asked again. Her irritation was rising.
“Alright, ma. Here’s what Tinder is…” And I explained in serious fashion this lifesaving app that millions of people around the world are addicted to.
She seemed to be uninterested. How would a wife of 35 years, who was just recently widowed, could afford to be invested in Tinder? It’s inconceivable.
But sometimes, nobody really knows how others think, feel or decide.
I’ve been with my mother all my life – 21 years to be exact. I never thought of living in a dorm nearby my university. I didn’t even have a sleepover with any of my exes. Separating myself from my parents hasn’t come to my mind, especially now that COVID ravages the country.
Apparently, my mother’s unpredictability came out of my sight.
–
Mother registered for Tinder. And without hesitation, she laid bare herself to the world. She posted three photos of her summer-ready figure. And three formal photos that exhibited her glamour and aura.
She listed her accomplishments, likes, dislikes, hobbies, skills and every piece of information a man finds in a woman.
She tried to understand what swipe left and swipe right meant. She did her best to be fully cognizant of Tinder without telling me about it.
Five weeks after dad’s death, I saw mother glued on her phone.
She’s not crying anymore. Hallelujah!
I asked myself if she realized that dad wouldn’t be there for the remaining years of her life. I didn’t want to ask her that. She might have tantrums or something. If that’s what she felt, then so be it.
So mother became addicted to Tinder. For about a week, she kept swiping and swiping – to the left and the right. No man could revive her dying libido. She might swipe to the right, but only because the profile picture deceived her. Her meticulousness frustrated her, if not, made her hopeless.
Until around midnight, a man had suddenly revitalized her. He resurrected my mother. My mother has been dying for five weeks now, but she felt alive again.
And no, the profile picture didn’t deceive her.
–
“If we can only hug here on Zoom, I would have done it,” the man said.
Mother felt like an 18-year-old again. His rosy words and infecting smile captured her spirit.
She was, once again, complete.
One hundred days after dad’s death, mother went back to her routine: cooking dinner late, ignoring me like we’re quarreling and raging impulsively.
Inside that soundproof room, mother would be submissive. And she would proudly listen to him with a sense of pride. That man truly captivated the heart, mind and soul of mother, which dad never really did in the final years of their marriage.
His personality flabbergasted her. And his charm was really just a bonus.
“I want you to be with me soon. Hindi lang kita ituturing bilang prinsesa, kundi bilang reyna,” he said one time.
On another occasion, he said: “Sabi nga nila, ‘live the fullest of life.’ So let’s do it. Let’s shut the world like COVID and be confident with ourselves. That we are not defined by their judgments, but by our own. Kahit ‘di pa tayo nagkikita, mahal na kita. At gusto kong maging akin ka lang.”
There’s a reason why mother couldn’t help but believe: dad was always busy at the hospital, which led to petty infighting between them. As their marriage strained over time, dad would be tempted to have sex with his co-worker. One time, he did. But that was the only time. He told me about it, but mother never learned. I felt that she had an idea about it at the back of her mind, but she kept silent.
Mother wanted to come out from that loveless marriage. And for her, dad’s death was a bit of a blessing. So when he met that man on Tinder, she was a dove flying in the sky, going anywhere she wanted.
And she did want to go anywhere.
–
To mother, being a risktaker is attractive. As a risktaker herself, she loved dad for overcoming the challenges her family threw him. He proved that even if the world was against them, none of them cared.
And when mother saw that man being the replica of dad, she couldn’t help but to be electrified.
“Anong address mo? Pupuntahan kita diyan. Ikaw lang ba mag-isa diyan?” mother asked.
“Ikaw pa talaga pupunta?” he said.
“Oo naman. Makikita ka pa ng anak ko eh,” she insisted.
And so he gave her the address of his modest home, about three kilometers away from our house. She quickly dressed up and put on a little lipstick, even if the face mask would render that pointless.
Going downstairs, I was puzzled. Where the heck will my mother go?
“Anak, pupunta lang ako saglit sa grocery. Bibili lang ng ingredients pang-ulam natin bukas,” she said.
“Pero ma, alas-siyete na ng gabi. Malapit nang mag-curfew,” I said.
Maybe my parents were luckier than me. They were able to free themselves before the pandemonium. I’m now a person with a devastating reputation.
But mother just kept walking. It’s as if she won’t hear me purposely. She knows how to drive, so nobody accompanied her.
Her car turned left and right, with lightning speed, in narrow streets where checkpoints didn’t exist and in dark avenues where every person was confined in their homes.
Mother was determined to reinvigorate herself, just three months after dad passed away. In her judgment, the ‘three-month rule’ has been followed. So, not a belief or a person could stop her anymore from doing what she wants.
As she reached the address, she saw no one outside their residences. There were about twelve homes in that place, and all virtually looked like the same.
Mother knocked the door. “Tao po. Tao po.”
A man opened the door. He was of great built that wasn’t noticeable when they were conversing virtually. Now that they’d seen face-to-face, the world suddenly stopped.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
They shook hands, assessed each other, and confirmed if what was on Tinder was authentic.
And with a split of a second, their lips drew nearer. They smelled each other’s breath and looked at their facial imperfections.
Then, a smack from the man. Then, a smack from the woman.
Until all hell breaks loose.
As they went to his bedroom, their bodies became one; love overflowed; the grievances and the pain vanished. To both of them, it was freedom – freedom from the coronavirus, freedom from the restrictions, and freedom from any judgment the world might throw against them.
That night forever changed their lives. They’re now intertwined, no matter what.
–
Mother would escape like a bandit three nights a week. Every time I fell asleep at night, mother was awake, trying to fire up her life.
As I dream at night, my mother fantasizes.
As I rest myself, my mother is restless.
As I hibernate, my mother activates.
This has been the situation for the past two months. I’m so dumb not having an ounce of suspicion. I’m a millennial who feels interconnected to the world. And most importantly, I’m a woman with a bargain of instincts.
But for whatever miracle the Lord has given, I’d begun to suspect.
On the 171st day since dad’s death. I was thirsty at the time. I went down to drink a glass of water. Coincidentally, mother went out as the lights were off. I caught her, but she didn’t see me. And so the engine vroomed at midnight.
“Saan pupunta ‘yun?” I asked myself.
And since I couldn’t help it, two days after, at around 10:00 PM, I hid at the trunk of the car. As mother drove with unprecedented speed in the middle of the night, I’m about to find out what she’s hiding. And I’m about to get the answers to the questions that bugged me ever since dad’s death.
As the car stopped, I came out of the trunk. They kissed – obviously more than pleasantries. But when I saw the man’s face, I screamed.
–
“What the f***!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Anak!”
“Anak mo ‘yan?!”
I felt betrayed. I felt crumbling in front of them. Of all the people I’ve trusted, I never thought mother would put me in such an awkward, devastating position.
“Anak, mahal ko siya. Hindi dahil sa ari niya o sa itsura niya, kundi dahil binuhay niya ako,” mother, with tears in her eyes, explained.
“Patay na ako kahit buhay pa ang papa mo. Hindi na kami nagmamahalan. Kasal na lang kami sa papel. Sa papel. Kaya ‘nung namatay siya sa COVID, hindi ko alam kung pinatay ulit ako, o sadyang manhid na ako,” she said.
I fought back: “Pero bakit siya? Bakit ‘yung pinakamamahal ko noon. Why? What gave you the permission to love him?”
“How dare you…,” the man intervened, “…say to us that you should grant us a permit? Hindi ka city hall para bigyan kami ng permit. You don’t have that right. We loved each other for two months. You never let me inside your home because you were ashamed of me. Kaya tayo naghiwalay dahil sa mga kabalbalan mo.”
With all my disgust, I outburst: “Shut up, freak!”
“Tigilan niyo na ‘yan, utang na loob!” my freakish mother shouted.
Suddenly, everything flashed back. For those two months, I was like my mother. The rosiness of his words and the handsomeness of his face infected me. We laughed at every corny joke. We ate the food no matter how distasteful that was. And we hugged each other when the cold froze us.
Why, of all people, did my mother fall to the man whom I fell with? Were we governed by a teleserye god or something? I couldn’t digest what was in front of me. If possible, I would have hung myself.
But if there’s anything clear, I was outraged. And I had to confront mother privately.
Until around midnight, a man had suddenly revitalized her. He resurrected my mother. My mother has been dying for five weeks now, but she felt alive again.
“Ma, umuwi na tayo, utang na loob.”
“No.”
I was stunned.
“Ayokong umuwi ngayong gabi. Bukas ng umaga pa ako uuwi. Sige na anak. Umuwi ka na. Gamitin mo ‘yang kotse,” she said.
I was even stunned.
This is the worst teleserye twist of my life. Goddamn it.
But it couldn’t get any worse.
–
In a split of a second, gunshots were flying around the corner.
We quickly entered his home. I wanted to be nostalgic, but we were running for our lives.
But who could that be?
“Heto, mga baril, iligtas niyo mga sarili niyo.”
My God! Mother and I never held guns in our entire lives. I even didn’t know how to use this.
But why were we being gunned down?
Mother was slapping him so hard. She wanted answers. Both of them were screaming, but I only heard gunshots.
I was hiding in this cabinet where I used to keep my uniform. His house was near the university, that’s why when I know I’m late, I’ll run to his house to change.
Then, while hiding, I felt something – something like plastic sachets.
“Oh, f***!”
Shabu.
Goddamn it!
As the gunners broke the door, I closed the door of the cabinet. Then, consecutive gunshots were fired. I tried to look for a second. Mother transformed into Rambo. Like FPJ, they would shoot whoever tries to shoot them.
Bam! Bam! Bam! It felt like a warzone. I wanted to scream like I always tended to do, but I couldn’t. I promised myself that after this, I would personally strangle that man. He endangered us. I would make him pay for it.
Bang! Both of them fell to the ground.
“Moootthheerrrr!!!!!”
I came out of the cabinet and showered them with bullets. They were men wearing blue polo with white stripes. But I couldn’t see them clearly because of the light and dust.
Bang! My vision blurred.
Slowly, I fell to the ground. I could still see the ceiling. Oh, the memories. They all flashed back.
Then I saw a man. He pointed a gun at me. And with fifteen bangs, the vision darkened.
I was free. We were free.
–
Maybe my parents were luckier than me. They were able to free themselves before the pandemonium. I’m now a person with a devastating reputation.
Dad didn’t want to free himself that way. But he was freed from that loveless marriage.
Mother freed herself. She defied the quarantine, and she defied me.
And here I am, chained by my anger with her. And chained by my anger with my mother’s lover. Unable to talk to them anymore, say my grievances and see her face to face.
Featured image is a painting entitled “Freedom” by Bettina Eriksen.
The Edj View 