Work Text:
nanay, tatay gusto kong tinapay.
[“wala tayong pambili, Crispin, anak.”
halatang hindi masaya ang nanay na maramdamang hindi niya nabibigyan ng sapat na kinakailangan ang mga anak.
“kahit ano nalang po, naiintindihan ko naman po. pero si kuya ho ba, napaglutuan ninyo ng binti ng pato o kaya’y hamon?”
ang malalim na pagkatamlay ay mas lalong nagpakita.
sa panahong iyon, kahit sa murang edad ay maiintindihan ang hirap na pinagdaraanan. ngunit nakita ni Crispin ang mga hugasin sa kanilang tinatawag na lababo noon. napag tanto niyang baka ang kanilang tatay ang umubos. o kay bait ng kaniyang nanay na hindi siraan ang kaniyang asawa.
pilipit ang ngiti ng nanay at bunso.
“o, heto nalang, anak. pagpasensyahan mo na, ha.”]
[ate], kuya, gusto kong kape.
[“bakit ho alak ang pinagwawaldasan ninyo?”
gumalaw ang braso ng nakatatandang lalaki at napaurong ang bunsong anak nito. malakas ang tunog ng pagkabagsak ng kamay ng tatay sa namumulang pisngi ng anak.
kitang kita ang marka ng bawat daliri bagama’t kayumanggi ang kaniyang kutis.
“pakialam mo ba? tantanan mo nga ‘ko! salot sa pamilya, ba’t pa ba ‘ko nagkaanak. puta.”
kumalampag ang nasisirang pintuan at tumahimik ang silid puwera sa pinipigil na iyak ng batang si Crispin.
ang nanay nilang si Sisa’y nanginginig sa sulok, ilang taon na ba siyang nagdurusa. sa puntong iyon ay hindi niya mahanap ang sagot sa kung bakit niya ba pinakasalan si Pedro, pero nangyari na’t pinagsisisihan niya ito.
hinampas ni Basilio ang kaniyang binti at pinilit na puntahan si Crispin. walang magagawa ang yakap, pero ito lang ang ngayo’y maihahandog ng kapatid. tahan na, tahan na.
“kuya, anong lasa ng kape?”
“hindi ko rin alam, Crispin. balang araw, pangako’y maipatitikim kita ng kape.”]
lahat ng gusto ko ay susundin niyo.
[hindi ba’t kayo’y nariyan upang kami’y tulungan at hindi timpiin?
nakapapagod pero ang pagkabata’y umiiral sa paminsan-minsang mga ngiti ng magkapatid. tali dito, hila doon. at kahit minsa’y nakabibingi ang lakas ng tunog ng kampana, ito ay nagsisilbing paalala na nakatutulong sila sa kaniyang pamilya, kahit man lang sa kanilang ina.
“kuya, bakit parang ang saya saya ng buhay ng ibang tao?”
nakagigigil ang mukha ni Crispin habang hinihigpitan ang buhol ng lubid nang nawawala ang hininga.
“‘di ko rin alam, hindi naman nararapat na…, ay nako si Pilosopo Tasyo nalang tanungin mo pagbalik.”
tumagilid ang ulo ni Crispin at isinantabi ang tanong.
“pero, Crispin, mahirap man ang buhay ay magkasama naman tayo, ‘di ba? kung may mananakit sa’yo, kahit nakaiinis ka, siyempre ililigtas kita.”
malaki ang ngiti ng magkapatid.
“salamat, kuya. ako rin! kahit maliit ako, matakot sila, ‘no!”
panandalian silang naghabulan sa taas ng torre. sa liit nila’y di makikita ang mga ulong nagsisipagtakbo sa taas at nagpapabaya sa may kampana. kaunting kasiyahan sa nakaw na saglit—
ang magkamali ay pipingutin ko
babawiin rin sa kanilang pinagbibintangan ng pagnanakaw ng iba.]
“I can’t continue writing it, Silio.”
He put his pen down and sighed very deeply.
“I may only be writing it, yes, I may not have experienced it but,”
Basilio smiled wryly.
“It’s okay, Gani. Thanks. Even I don’t know what had gotten into me to ask you to write something like that.”
Truly, it may be a wonder to many why Basilio would want to have a creative transcript of what had happened when he was about 10. But Isagani was his best friend, and he knew best, next to Basilio, of course, why in this insane world his friend would want to remember what happened when he once had a brother.
“I just, I want to forget, but I can’t, nor do I actually want to, good grief.”
Basilio crouched over so his head fit into his trembling hands. Isagani once again picked up his pen.
“Actually, let’s continue.”
[paano nga ba kikimkimin ang sakit na dulot ng dalawang munting sandali. ilang taong nagtimpi, ilang minutong ngumiti, at dalawang putok lang ang kinailangan upang mawala ang lahat, upang mawala ka.
ang takbo pauwi’y nagiwan ng bakas ng dugo sa daan. ang ilang kilometrong lakbay na dumaig sa panahon ng paglayag ng mga bapor hanggang sa kabilang dulo ng daigdig, ay hinding-hindi malilimutan ng aking marupok na puso.
tawagin mo man itong batibot, noong ilang sandaling iyon ay nawasak ang katotohanang iyon.
o baka’y hindi talaga ito naging totoo?
ang totoong batibot ay ikaw, o Crispin. ngunit paano nga ba kakalabanin ang bakal ng dugong mas malapot lang sa tubig?
dugo’t tubig tulad ng pawis naming mag-ina. tulad ng luhang bumuhos sa aming mga mata.
at sa nanay nating ang utak ay nawasak, kaluban ay pinunit ng sandamakmak na guardia sibil.
Crispin, Crispin.
kung maipatitikim ko lang sa’yo ang matapang na kape.
sing tapang ng ‘yong loob nang nawalay tayo noong araw na iyon.
nalusaw ng luha, nasobrahan ng alat. luhang naging karagatan ng pagkamuot pero patuloy na dadaloy.
mahal kita, Crispin. at kailanma’y hindi kita malilimutan.]
“I, I think you can end it there, Gani.”
Said man looked at him skeptical, but didn’t question what he had asked of him.
“Shall we go and give it to him?”
And so they did.
Of the many cadavers Basilio had dissected in medical school, he, unsurprisingly, found none that resembled his brother. Obviously, it’s been over a decade since then.
But somewhere along the way, just when they had gone on a medical mission in school, he found a peculiar looking dump near what was once the old bell tower they used to work in.
He had finished his blood letting activities for the day and decided to take a stroll in the wretched-smelling corpse dump. But cadavers were all the same to him now. And there were only a few on site.
One of which was very degenerate, but his clothes were unmistakably what his brother had worn a certain day many years ago.
He couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, this was the first dead body he ever actually cried over. He and his classmates always sympathized over the dead they studied, but a simple prayer was enough to ease them.
His voice hitched, and his legs had turned numb. He doubted his legs were still there but he bolted to the body and cried into the muddy blue shirt.
Of the 15 corpses he’s studied, he’s never known any of them. It certainly was unlikely, seeing how unsociable a person he was. But regardless, there were only 5 here, yet what are the odds of his years-lost brother being here.
Only his bones remained. the flesh seeping into the ground, turning into the pretty white flowers around the bunso’s corpse.
“Even in your death, you make the world a better place, Crispin.”
And that’s how he had gotten his brother back.
He confided in Isagani, the one, true person he ever could, and made a simple yet earnest grave for his departed brother. And today, they shall pay him a visit.
“Ilang taon na rin ang nakalipas, at dumating nanaman ang iyong kaarawan. Sayang at hindi natin nabalikan ang handa ni nanay.”
He set down the short scroll Isagani had written for him. He knew his hands would falter him too much he wouldn’t be able to write it.
Briefly he smiled at how Crispin might have teased him were he to use his shaky doctor handwriting to make it, but he could barely even tell Gani what to write in between bouts of tears and hiccups.
They both touched the little rocks that they clumped together. Little rocks that would still hurt when thrown, sing batibot mo, and stood up again.
Isagani hugged the crying doctor.
“Maligayang kaarawan nga pala, Crispin. Mahal na mahal kita.”