No Permanent Address

No T.V., no books, no radio, and no neighbors for kilometers. This hell was my summer. I was sent to the boondocks where I could spend time with my grandparents so my Mom would be spared the burden of another mouth to feed. At least they were rich enough to have water from faucets and a toilet and bath, not like others in this province who only had holes in the ground and a wooden plank to stand or squat on. We also had a half-finished swimming pool with no tiles and no water, and a big lawn with no gardener.

Everyday I would sit on our art-deco tiled terrace and wait for the bus. It passes our house four times a day and you could hear it five minutes before it would appear on the horizon as a cloud of red dust. I would hope like hell it would stop by and bring some visitors. Like Mang Sauro with his talk of caves in Bonifacio as big as cathedrals, or streams that disappeared underground. I got a recipe for the Tagabulag Anting-anting from him. You just need to get up well before dawn on Good Friday, sit facing east, stare at the rising sun without blinking while chanting “taga-bulag taga-bulag” and, once a tear slides down your cheeks, wipe it with a pristine white and dalisay handkerchief. Do not, under any circumstances, let the tear or the hanky touch the ground. I tried to do it that morning but there were several problems. Good Friday was several weeks away but I wanted to use the taga-bulag on my cousin Aman who was a pain in the ass. I also did not know what dalisay means. I couldn't also figure out how to not blink.Perhaps that's why it didn't work. I was determined to try again the next day, maybe try to think of something really sad so I'll cry for real, faster than I could blink.

I didn't see them coming. They didn't come with the bus and it felt like they just materialized at the gate and knocked on it. There weren't even any dust to indicate which direction they came from. Two men with a teenaged girl and a pregnant woman. I couldn't grasp the concept that they were NPA and my Lola had trembling hands while she prepared food for the visitors. Ka Eugene was the handsome one who showed me his gun and taught me how to cock it and line up the sights. Ka Thomas was the husband of Ka Malou who was due to give birth any day now. Ate Bel is the teenager and they would stay with us until Ka Malou felt strong enough to walk again after her son's birth. It was annoying that I now had to share a room with my cousin, but my Lola said I had to behave and be kind. Her eyes were darting from side to side, rather like the cows being hauled from pasture by their noses. Maybe it's a good thing since I wouldn't now be woken up in the living room where I slept with an Iloko mosquitero by my Lolo shouting at 7:30 am, saying “gising na, tirik na araw.”

Lola said I had to pretend that they were cousins back home and I should not ever talk about them. They allowed me to sit with them while I listened to them talking about equality, armed revolution, and how God didn't exist, which to me was plain ridiculous. I watched while my Lolo brought out his big Jerusalem bible, the one with all the pictures of the naked women, half-naked men brutally murdered, and babies held by their hair. I saw Ka Thomas bring out a ratty red and brown book that looks like it has been trampled by horses. They went back and forth arguing in very low voices, as sound really carries in the province. Neither side believed the other, but I think Lolo won since he could quote chapter and verse while Ka Thomas only had books that looks like he made them himself and his only had poems from an Intsik and a bearded guy who looks like one of our mangangawits.

Much to my disappointment, Ka Eugene and Ka Thomas would be leaving the next day, depriving me of eye-candy and gun lessons. My quest for the taga-bulag anting-anting would also have to be shelved since I didn't want to share it with just anyone. I did share with Ate Bel my secret beauty paste of baby powder drizzled with baby oil. It just really takes patience to apply since it tends to clump together and fall off your face. I also asked her opinion if it was a star-apple leaf that was used for the Palmolive commercial, the one where a dried brown leaf magically becomes green and supple after Palmolive lather was applied to it. I couldn't replicate the lather nor the feat, so I became quite skeptical about it. Unfortunately, Ate Bel said their camp didn't have any electricity so she's not familiar with the commercial. Ate Bel was Ka Thomas' sister and she's here to be Ka Malou's companion. She said Ka Thomas' real name was Pedro del Rosario and that they lived in Los Banos before he joined the Kilusan. Their parents were so proud that he was accepted as a UP scholar. He would have been the first to finish college since their family were just farmers. I asked Ate Bel to go with me and Aman to go clam-digging in the stream at our niugan. She declined as she just wanted to keep their presence a secret as long as possible.

The summer passed quickly. I was too busy asking Ate Malou questions on what it was like to climb mountains, what the ground was like, did they have to use ropes, where did they sleep, where did they bathe, whether there were snakes, wild boar, wild deer, did they kill it, did they eat it, how did it taste like, how did they hunt it, how did they kill it? I didn't lie in wait for the bus anymore. Any visitors would mean I have to go stay in the room or stay out playing in the niugan and not ask or answer questions about them.

I don't remember Golly being born. All I knew is that suddenly, there's this cute, fat, cuddly being that would smile if you made funny faces. He would cry if you pinched too hard. The only place I could pinch is his earlobe, and only if there's nobody looking. You also have to make sure nobody sees you alone with him so they won't blame you for his reddened ear. I wished I could take him back home and be my sibling. Maybe we could buy him from off of Ate Malou. I just didn't know if Ka Thomas will come for him since they've been gone for more than two months. Ate Malou and Ate Bel was getting worried since they haven't heard from him, nor has he sent anybody. Ate Bel went home to Los Banos to ask her parents if they've heard anything.

My parents came to take me home as school was starting soon. I wanted to go kicking, screaming, and crying but I was too afraid of the two-hour paluan sessions more than I loved Golly-wow. I didn't know if I would see them again since Ate Malou said it's dangerous for them to leave any clues as to where they would be staying next. I wished Ate Bel was here so I could at least get their Los Banos address and write to them there.

I settled back into my old life. I so missed being able to buy candy by the piece and just walking to the next-door sari-sari store to get it, anytime I liked. Golly-wow's memory was soon buried under school assignments, projects that I'm too klutzy to ace, and old playmates.

I went back to Quezon the next summer to find out that both Ka Eugene and Ka Thomas died inside a Catholic Schoolroom. They were noticed by a group of soldiers patrolling the street outside. They only had one magazine between them and they tried to shoot it out. Ka Eugene was 26 years old, Ka Thomas just 23. I pictured them lying on their back, side by side, their eyes closed, arms and legs spread out, like when we play dead. I heard Ate Malou walked a hundred kilometers from our house to where the shootout happened, but wouldn't dare claim the bodies nor see them. They left soon afterwards and we never heard from them again.