PUPPY LOVE

That morning was as glorious as ever. There were the chirps of the house birds flying from the avocado branches to the banda fuera. The fragrant air, the misty leaves, the green meadows yonder, and the foggy horizon made the feeling light as if this part of the world had been designed just for this day.

This is a perfect day, Ambo thought. It was March, and mornings like these are signs of hotter days of the summer to come. His nanang had gone to Aparri to buy clothes, for today is Sunday and on Wednesday, it will be his graduation. Karen’s mother, he is sure, went to Aparri too. The vans and jeeps going there would pass by San Isidro, and take the detour to Balza. The weakened bridge is under repair, and passengers going to the east, to Sta. Ana will cross the Buguey Lagoon using boats, dammang, leading to caritera, the people call it. It was a sideline for those who have boats. Some say they can even earn five hundred pesos a day. He can imagine Ricky, his classmate paddling on the brackish water, ferrying passengers from the makeshift pantalan to the other side where they would ride in a multicab going to Sta. Teresita or Gonzaga. His tatang went out early, there is a derby in Sta. Teresita and he would be the gaffer of Judge Garcia. Before he left, he told Ambo to feed the fighting cocks, there were ten of them scattered in the yard. His nanang told him to husk the floor and to see to it that if Maring will arrive, he will get the payment for the curtains she had sewn. He had teased his nanang to buy a cellphone for him. Karen had one, and sometimes she gave it to him for safekeeping. When he asked why she said he had to practice using one so when the time will come that he will be having his cellphone, he can already memorize the keypad, even in the dark.

They had agreed to meet at the seashore in Cabaritan, so it would be nearer for Karen to go. When he invited her, she had asked why. He said they can’t meet anymore after graduation. Besides, this is Sunday, and their folks would be busy preparing for their attire come graduation. Karen agreed.

He was sweating after finishing the chores. His hand was sore from the beaks of the cocks. His right leg was tired from the husk. He sat down for a while, listening to the songs of Air Supply.

When there’s a dark storm in your horizon

And you think that you can’t do it

Just put your hand in my hand

And I’ll show you how to do it

Karen. They became close when they were in second-year high school. Karen was a good dancer then, a cheerleader in their basketball team. It was more about being close. She would be there when they practice songs for the battle of the bands. He was there also when Karen’s group is practicing for the yells and cheers.

They were always together during field trips and outings. Karen had been the one to ask if he had already a girlfriend. Jokingly he said he is planning to court her. “I will wait for that day,” she had said, rolling her eyes, her cheeks a crimson red.

She blushed when he innocently held her hand. He cannot forget those eyes, the perfect curve of her lips, the shoulder-length hair and the swelling bosom, the swaying hips and the tapered shapely legs.

He had composed poems for her and she read it and placed them in a special leather case. She gave him tapes in return, her favorite songs, like Air Supply. He had a special preference for mellow rock like Firehouse and Radioactive Sago Project but he was influenced by her music. During the last foundation days, the audience was surprised when he sang mellow songs. Still, he got an ovation. His bandmates too were satisfied but had not the courage to ask why he went mellow.

He went inside his room, locked it and proceeded to the bathroom. Inside, he can still hear the music of Air Supply. He heard a voice from below. It was Nana Maring. She asked him about his mother. He told her she went to Aparri. Nana Maring gave him the money. He placed it in their aparador.

Karen was so innocently beautiful when he went to their rendezvous in Cabaritan. She was in a white sleeveless shirt and brown shorts. He was wearing the latest Islander footwear. Her wavy hair was tied in a ponytail. The round eyes were alive and smiling.

“You are late,” she said.

“I have to finish the chores first,” he answered. “Come, we will be roasted here.” They walked to a shaded part of the shore. They sat down on an old, abandoned log in the shade of coconut palms rimming the shoreline. The sea was deep blue, calm and only the whispers of the small waves lapping the sand could be heard.

“Why did you invite me here?” Karen asked. She started to bring out from her pockets candies and chocolates.

“It is because we can’t have a chance like this anymore.” He was close to choking. “I love you, Karen. You know that.”

“You have told that to me many times. You know my feelings too, Ambo.” She started munching some of the Hershey’s she had brought along. “Papang said I will study in Manila. How about you? You have always been dreaming of becoming a journalist. Will you study in Manila too?” she fixed her gaze at him as she offered candies. She gently placed one in his lips. He crunched this, with delight. He swallowed.

"My father said I will study in Tuguegarao. We can’t afford the tuition fee in Manila, Karen. We are poor.” He held her hand. She didn’t refuse. She is on the verge of crying.

Suddenly, Ambo’s heart was beating hard, his breathing grew harder. He placed an arm around Karen’s shoulder and he kissed her, tender at first, then hard. They rolled into the soft sand. Karen’s hands were on his back, her nails digging his flesh.

When finally their labored breathings subsided, they sat again on the abandoned log. They were silent.

“I have to go now, Ambo. Papang would be looking for me.” Karen’s hand was on his. Her head rested on his shoulder.

“I will accompany you to the main road,” Ambo said.

“ Will you study still in Manila?” he slowly asked. Maybe, this is parting time, he thought.

Karen smiled. "I will tell Papang I will study in SLC, Tuguegarao."

Ambo was sure he was awake. He heard a distinct melody in her voice. It was the most wonderful music for him.

Written April 23, 2003

Saint Louis Village