bottled bitterness

8/9/2019 Bottled Bitterness

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BOTTLED BITTERNESSA Short Story by Ian Martinez

SCENE1

A passenger jeepney that was half-empty with children turned into a street while its load shrieked

and laughed. It stopped in front of a red rust-proofed gate and rumbled, while it waited for one of

its passengers to alight.

Earlier, while the jeepney arrogantly negotiated its way through grade school parking lot, its

horns gave what turned out to be its last sickly howl. Gagged into meekness, it waited withoutcomplaint while a rather chubby boy hopped out dragging his stroller that was loaded with a

heavily stuffed bag.

The boy stood under the noonday sun with his glimmering stroller while the jeepney attempted a

U-turn on the narrow road. After a few short and groaning attempts, it succeeded and began tospeed away. Within earshot, a bony boy with unkempt hair popped his head out and shouted,

Oy! Oy! Bye Baboy!

The object of insult rushed to the middle of the road and waving his fist to the air, yelled back,

Squatter! Go find something to eat It was futile; he burned to throw more insults but thejeepney had just turned into a corner.

He rapped impatiently at the gate while the sun bit the tips of his ears. Through the worn heels ofhis shoes, he could feel the heat of baked concrete.

Jollibee, their black mongrel dog, was sniffing and whining at the space underneath the gate. Hepatted the hot gate and called out the dogs name, which the dog acknowledged with a yelp andimpatient scratching at the metal panel.

Whats taking Tessie so long? he wondered. Its supposed to be routine: the school service willdrop him off at around 12:45, honk its horn, and then Tessie will come rushing out with Jollibee

to open the gate for him. But of course, the services horn was broken and Tessie probably didnt

know he was baking under such a hot sun.

He grabbed the gates ring handle and struck it sharply against the metal panel. Tessie! he

yelled out, calling out to their maid.

After a few moment of waiting, he grew impatient and decided to scale the chalky white concrete

that bounded their yard. He walked straight to the other end of the fence and brushed aside the

branches of a thick bush. He stepped into the green and disappeared from view. His headsuddenly popped on top of the bush and wavered as he struggled to clear his trousers from the

sharp barbed stakes that lined the top of the fence like teeth.

After a heavy thud, the boy ran across the yard with Jollibee barking at his heels. He opened the

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gate and dragged his stroller in.

He came into the shade that the covered garage offered and sighed heavily. He stood still for awhile, noting the quiescence of the yard, while Jollibee, looking distressed, sniffed the space at

the foot of the heavy door. He banged on the door which sent Jollibee scampering awaybut

after the dog realized it was only him, it rushed back to its anxious sniffing. No one answered orstirred inside the house, which made him wonder.

His mother usually sits around the orchid-bedecked veranda at this time of the day, enjoying thewarm breeze that the trees and their flowers had filtered and perfumed sweetly. Being warmed by

dappled noonday sun usually made her pale complexion shift to a shade of pinkish rose. It made

her lively too, feeling more part of the colorful garden than her ill body.

Tessie must be in the kitchen, he thought. She must be preparing him something to eat. He

walked briskly to the backyard, leaving Jollibee to sniff the foot of the door by himself. He

kicked open the wrought iron gate that lead to the backyard and walked through the ankle-deep

grass.

The eerie inactivity bothered him. It was unlike their house to be so quiet at midday. He was usedto coming home to the sound of urgent but lively cooking, cleaning, laundry washing and

hanging. In the middle of the green yard he stood still, feeling small because of the empty

clothes-lines.

He was nudged from his anxiousness by Jollibee who sniffed at his heels. He crouched and took

the dogs heavy jaws between his palms, Come on Jobee, wheres everyone?

The dog pried its jaws away and hurried back to the front yard.

Dumb dog, he mumbled.

While he walked around the house towards the kitchen, he became aware that all the windows of

the house were closed, except those in his mothers room. Alarmed, he rushed to the windowsgrills and pulled himself off the ground to see through the slats of jalousie. His mother was not

on her bed. The sheets were folded neatly and the numerous amber and orange bottles of her

medicines were set on a neat row on top of her vanity table. Her pink satin robe that was usually

strewn at the foot of her bed was folded and tucked neatly beside the pillows. The room waspristine, except for the dark spots on the bed sheets that was caused by his fathers clumsy

administration of his mothers medicines.

His heart raced from a sharp realization that made him jump from the windows grills sending

flakes of rust and paint flying like a swarm of flies.

God, he pleaded as he raced towards the back door while his chest filled with dread. Scenes of

past funerals-- which he attended with his mother-- flashed in his mind. She would tell him to

behave to show the unknown relative who lay inside a garish box, his utmost respect and

reverence towards a life well lived. Well livedwell made; just like a school project: once its

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finished, you shove it into a box with drawings of scrolls and swirls, hand it to your teacher to

never see againexcept probably after the semester.

He remembered his dead relativeshow they looked after life finished with them and shoved

them into cake boxes with windows. He remembered themwell painted and perfectly stiff.

How could his mother so soft become stiff as those unknown relatives? How could life finish

with her when she is so beautiful? Shouldnt he be informed first?

Ridiculous, he breathed in. He shook his head while he steadied himself on the back doors knob.

Before he left for school, he kissed his snugly sleeping mother goodbye. He felt her warm cheeks

on his lips, and saw her chest rise and fall before he left. She was breathing strongly, though she

was tired from retching all night from her restless stomach. She was alive, though she smells likean empty medicine bottle. She was probably watching television and he chided himself for

thinking otherwise.

SCENE 2

He knocked heavily on the back door. Tessie! Tessie! Open the door! He kicked the foot of the

door. Tessie!

He heard a muffled reply.

Tessie!

Teka muna! a voice yelled deep within the house.

Tessie!

Ay naku! Benjamin, is that you? Wait, I have my hands full.

I said, open the door! Wheres mommy?

What? Wait a moment. Stay there, Im on my way.

From across the house he heard the heavy front door close and Jollibees incessant high pitched

bark. He wondered what could be happening at front.

Just wait there Benji, Im on my way, Tessie called out nervously.

He heard urgent approaching footsteps through the thin boards of the back door. Suddenly, bolts

clicked and the door swung open.

Tessie stood awkwardly at the door frame, looking down at him uneasily. She normally wore her

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kinky hair tightly tied down, but this time she wore it loose and somewhat disheveled. Her skirt

was put on clumsily, and he noticed heavy creases running across her hips.

He walked past her and two dark notches in front of her shirt caught his eyes. He looked back

questioningly, which she answered by folding her arms, then briskly walking past him and gently

slapping his cheeks.

Wait! Wheres Mommy? Benji called out after her.

She rushed to her room ignoring him, and when she reappeared, the two dark notches were gone.

Are you hungry? she asked.

Wheres Mommy?

At the hospital, she said easily. She turned to the stove and lifted a lid from a large stainless

pot. I hope you like miso, she smiled.

He stared at her dumbfounded. He could not settle in his mind the contradiction of her

complacent smile, and the horror of what she had just told him. Hadnt his mother been in andout of the hospital? Could his dread entice nightmares out of their hole of inexistence, and have

them materialize on a hot day?

What happened? he demanded.

Huh?

Why was Mommy rushed to the hospital?

Rushed? she stared at him quizzically while she carried the pot of miso to the kitchenscounter. What are you talking about?

Come on! he called after her while pulling her skirt.

Hoy! If I drop this.

What happened to Mommy?

Youre so makulit. This is heavy, wait for me to put this on the counterand let go of my

skirt! She sets the pot on a small straw mat, and then brushed herself off some imagined dust.

Tessie?

Oo na. Maam left with Sir.

Why?

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What why? They have an appointment with the doctors. She smoothed the creases on her skirt.

Whats wrong with you?

He sulked in front of a lump of rice. The bowl of miso stood squat and steaming on the dining

table, while Tessie rushed through the sign of the cross across the table. She snatched a serving

spoon then scooped the pale ochre soup. Tasting it, her face tightened and she smiled in relish.

Noticing him all of a sudden, she stopped in mid-sip and slowly put the serving spoon down.

Whats wrong? You dont like it?

I dont feel like eating.

O! You dont know what youre missing, she said, and emphasizing, disposed of anotherspoonful of soup.

Tessie, theyve been going out to the hospital almost every week now.

She swallowed. Yes, she said, in a tone like that of a newscaster, the hospital people are doing

their best to make Maam feel better again.

I dont think shes getting any better. Shes still throwing up at night.

Tessie glared at him with a look of distaste on her face, as if the soup had become too sour.

Oops! Sorry Tessie, he excused himself.

She placed the spoon on her plate. Listen Benjie. Trust me, shes getting better.

But

No, no, no. No buts. She pushed her plate away from her as she leaned forward. Dont you

know? Havent you noticed?

What?

Sure you wont notice. Naku, how could you when youre always in front of the television.

Noticed what?

For your information little seor, Maam had made it a point to cook lunch and dinner. I bet youdidnt know she cooked this, she flicked her finger at the bowl of miso.

He looked at the bowl. Do we have anything else? Like hotdog?

She bit her lips then sighed. She raced through three spoonfuls of soup, stood up and went to the

kitchen. Sorry, no hotdogs. But we still have leftover longganisa, she called out.

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I just want to know why shes not getting any better like what Daddy promised.

Tessie propped herself against the sink, as if the question that desperately wanted an answer

drained her.

Its just a side-effect, Benjie, she said finally.

He looked at her uncertainly.

Sensing his suspicion, she added, Theyre using very strong medicines this time around. Her

eyes suddenly lit up. Remember when you threw up because you took three tablets of your

vitamins... uh, was that Unicap-M? Anyway, you thought itd make you healthier and taller ifyou took more, she giggled.

Why does she have to take stronger medicines?

To make her well, she pointed out with a confidence that didnt match the twitch in her eyelids.

Whats wrong with the other ones? If shes taking stronger medicines to make her well, then

that means shes getting worse.

Her jaw muscles tightened. Suddenly, her face lightened and she brushed what he said with acarefree flick of her hand, Dont be silly.

She turned around and faced him square-on with her hands on her hips. Well now my littleseor, what was it that you wanted to eat?

Tessie! he cried.

She shook her head in exasperation. Then, glancing around as if what she was about to say

should not be heard by anyone other than him, she motioned him to come closer. Come, I havea secret to tell you.

His eyes lit up and he eagerly came close enough to smell the scent of mens cologne on her. He

learned long ago that things were said by people who did not know he was within earshot,contained information that usually made his heart race and mind swirl in imaginative

anticipation. Secrets were not meant for his young ears. Now, here is one being offered to him!

What is the secret that Tessie will share? Will it be something shocking about his mother? For a

moment, he hesitated and feared what she was about to say. Will she tell him the horrible truth

that he suspects about his mothers condition? But he remembered other secretsfunny ones;like that what his mother traded with Tessie: news about his Uncle Lito sleeping with a big

carabao named Lando, for the gossip about their neighbor who got pregnant by someone who

happens to be a fast runner. He cant understand entirety of the secrets that was revealed to him

through carelessness, but knowing they were kept from him excited him and tickled his

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imagination to absurdity.

Well? he urged.

In thoughtful pause, she crouched and motioned him closer. Benjie, I dont know how to say

this, but, the reason why Maams not getting better is

Shes got an incurable disease! That cancer dooms all its victims to certain death painful,

retching death! His mind screamed in dreadful anticipation.

is because the doctors who Sir brought to her to before were quacks! she said gravely.

Huh?

Yes, poor Maam; and poor Sir! They paid good money thinking those doctors were expertly

doing what they had to do to make her feel better. But they didnt know what they were doing;

they were only interested in Sir and Maams money.

She continued, But Sir caught up to their dirty tricks and had them arrested. Hah! Those quacksare now rotting in Bilibid. Sirs not an accountant for nothing.

Tessie stood up and looking the entire bit pleased with herself added, Maam is now in good

hands. Sirs been taking her to Medical City.

Tessie, I mean... are you sure?

Sure! Oh you wont believe all the imported medicines that they are using, and those super

machines to really see if the medicines are burning what they are supposed to be burning. All

those germs havent got a chance.

Suddenly, she reached for him and stroked his hair. Benjie, believe me. You, Sir and Maam will

be on your way to Villa Christina before you know it. You can all go swimming until your skinsturn red from sunburn, and youd probably not remember Maam ever becoming sick. Always

keep this in mind.

He wanted to believe her. He nodded and hugged her, but his chest felt heavier than before helearned of the secret.

SCENE 3

He sat in the veranda chewing candy sticks, while he waited for the headlights of his fathers car

to burst through the gaps in the metal gate. He kept patient while he waited for their cars horn to

pierce the nocturnal silence.

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Jollibee lay sprawled across the driveway, blending with the numerous oil spots and stains on the

dusty concrete slab. In the darkness, Jollibee seemed less like a creature, and more like shadow

shifting, effervescing, merging with other formless entities that frolic at night.

He called the dog towards him, but it lay still. He stared at it in exasperation while its blackness

oozed in his mind. Suddenly, he felt goose bumps.

Jobee! he called again; but the mongrel continued to ignore him. Frustrated, he turned his

attention away from the yard and towards the distant shadows of coconut trees, whose fine darkfronds reached up from their restless shadows and played their mute sonatinas on the ebony of

the night sky. It reminded him of his mothers bony fingers. Fingers that cast ephemeral shadow

against the white keys of their piano during brownouts. These were the only times when she

would coerce music from the stubborn wooden box that stood heavily in their living room.

On such nights, he remembered the candles that flicker meekly at the intensity of her music that

would radiate from the living room and into the thick darkness that engulf their house.

He tried to recall the numerous sonatinas, while he patiently sucked on another candy stick.

Even before the headlights of his fathers car illuminated the trees lining their street, Benji

already knew that his parents were plying the road to their house. He knew it took twenty

seconds from the time Jollibee jumps to his feet and gambol everywhere across the yard, up to

the time his fathers car stop in front with its piercing headlights.

The dogs uncanny ability mystified him. He had once thought Jollibee was just keenly aware of

time, and would always rightly estimate the moment the car would arrive. But Jollibee had beencorrect even when his father comes home unexpectedly. One time, eager to learn of the dogs

amazing trick, he had come down on all four beside the sprawled animal, and tried to press his

ears on the ground. He figured that since the dog was very close to the ground, it might be able tohear something that would have signaled the arrival of their car, or any car at that. But the

experiment only yielded gritty ears. Maybe it only worked with trains, like what an afternoon

science program on television once demonstrated.

He wanted to ask his father, who before his mother got sick was an eager and veritable

encyclopedia of amazing and often gruesome facts. But lately, he had become aloof.

He swung the two heavy panels of the gate wide open and sure enough, the street began to glow

pale yellow, while Jollibee darted in and out of their neighbors shrubs like a bandit from a

cartoon show.

The car swerved into the driveway, while Jollibee pranced ahead, flagging the car to its place

with its tail.

The car settled in the garage, its brake lights flared and the hum of the engine died. A moment

passed before the driver-side door clicked and swung open. His father stepped out, walked

around to the passenger side and gently opened the door.

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He stooped towards his passenger and they talked solemnly for a moment, while he threw a few

glances at Benji as he closed the gate.

After a while, he called Benji over.

Benji rushed to his father and peered into the car. His mother was reclining on the seat with a

series of white oval patches on her arms.

Help me, his father motioned while wrapping one arm around his mothers waist.

What happened? Mommy, are you all right? What did the doctors.

Shh Not now. Your mothers tired. Wheres Tessie?

Tessie suddenly bounded out of the veranda with her fingers stiffly held up and wide apart in the

air.

His father stared at her severely.

Sorry Sir, sorry, she pleaded, while shaking her glossy fingers in front of her.

I think its becoming a habit.

No, no Sir! I was putting on nail polish when I didnt hear.

Never mind. Get your Ates things in the trunk. Theres watermelon in there make her juice

later.

Benji took his mothers hand bag and held her clammy hands. There was a pained smile on her

face when she looked at him. He felt her squeeze his hand while they walked slowly into the

house.

His father laid his mother on the bed like a porcelain doll. The bed was not new, but it refused to

swallow his mother even partly. She had lost so much weight.

Benji tried to remove his mothers cloth shoes, but was distracted by the oval patches on her

arms. Inadvertently, he set ladders climbing from her heels up to her knees.

He stood agape at the foot of her bedmore shocked that she did not react, than the irreparable

damage he had rendered to her stockings.

She lay, eyes half-closed while his father kneaded her pale hands.

Popoy, she whispered to his father. My body feels like

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His father placed a finger across her thinly lip-sticked lips. Later; now, I think you need a little

rest.

But Popoy, she insisted.

Later. His father turned to him, Benjamin, why dont you leave us for a moment and ahremind Tessie of the watermelon juice.

Now?

Yes son, now. And give your mother a hug. She may feel like sleeping earlier tonight.

He stood stooping between the couple. He leaned on the bed and meekly embraced his mother.From her neck, he could discern the bitter scent of medicines nudging behind the scent of her

jasmine perfume.

He wanted to embrace her tighter, longer, despite of the bitterness. But bitterness draws peoplein, with their brilliant yellows, orange and greens like that of deceitful medicines. They hide

within their colored shells and seem sweet and delicious, like rainbow milk candies that they soldin most corner stores.

Benjamin, his father reminded.

Benji nodded and walked out of the room, hesitating. In the middle of the hallway, he saw his

father closing the door from the corner of his eyes. He suddenly felt light, because he had just

been torn from the family portrait that hung in the hallway.

SCENE 4

He found Tessie hauling the large watermelon into the kitchens counter-top. She wore pink,loose pajama pants and a worn white shirt that fell like a furniture sheet over her bony frame.

Her frizzly hair was tied down tightly and neatly.

He liked Tessie. She was the only maid that he could remember to have lasted more than a yearwith them. Then again, maybe she lasted so long because he never bothered to give her too much

trouble.

Her hands were clumsy, but her smile held all the grace to make up for her lack of dexterity. This

was probably the reason why he liked hershe worried more about her dropping the plates than

him dropping them.

Tessie,

Ay! she gasped. What do you think youre doing! You almost made me drop this this

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melon, she said, tapping the large gourd.

Daddy wants you to make juice out of that.

I know, she said, rolling her eyes.

Ill help you?

Naku, no. Youll just mess up the kitchen. Go, go watch T.V.

Nothings on.

Go play then.

With what?

She laughed. With what? she mocked. What do you think all your Transformers are for? Itsnot like Maam bought it to decorate the insides of your closet.

Im tired of them.

Tired? Sleep then.

Tessie, its too early. I just want to help out.

No. Wait, why not keep Maam company? Stay with her. You should be with her all the timeah to watch her and bring her what she needs.

Daddy told me she had to rest.

Oh, she paused for a while. Benji, she started, I dont want to be in for a long lecture. You

know Sir will have highblood if he sees you slicing watermelons at night and dirtying yourself.Naku, I dont want to sit through an hour-long sermon, so just run along and and do something

elselike your homework.

Tessie, he begged.

No. Go and Ill even bring you a glass of watermelon juice.

Tessie, Daddy will allow me; Ill only operate the food processor.

No.

How could I dirty myself?

No.

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Please, Tessie.

No.

How come you let me do anything when Mang Hector is here?

Tessie froze.

Like this afternoon

Shhh! Tessie motioned urgently for him to stop talking.

Why? He was

Shhh! What are you talking about? Quiet, Sir might think something if he hears, she whispered

urgently.

Why did you smell like his cologne earlier this afternoon?

What? she quickly sniffed both of her sleeves. Dont be silly.

Yeh, hes been coming over a lot lately; Im used to his cologne, and you smell like him

Stop! Come here, help me with this watermelonand get the food processor over there in that

cabinet.

Tessie turned the watermelon a few times on the chopping board, peering at its curved edge as if

she could discern some written message on its surface. She picked up a large knife and carefullymade its tip play on the gourds shiny green skin. With a slight nudge, the sharp tip sank into the

gourd; and with a shove that carried the weight of her bony fame behind it, sank the broad

stainless blade into the round victim.

He thought of asking her for the knife, but he decided not to interfere with the seemingly serious

transaction between her and the gourd. Instead, he busied himself in preparing the grey machine

that will make juice out of the red fleshy innards of the watermelon.

Though he had helped on a few occasions in assembling the food processor, his fascination

towards the variety of parts that makes the whole never faded. He arranged the parts in neat rowsand groupings in the counter-top. He wanted to witness how his own hands would bring the parts

into their unity.

As he tried to fit a gasket between the pitcher and the blade housing, he heard the distinct and

urgent sound of the toilet lid slapping against the water closet, followed by deep and hollow

retching.

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His fascination for the machine parts in his hands suddenly faded. He looked at Tessie, who

continued to slice the flesh of the watermelon. Her dispassionate eyes told him that she had been

across the neighborhood with Mang Hector, hugging and kissing like how he caught them once.

The retching continued, drawn and deep, even as he placed the last of the food processors parts

in its place. He dumped the red watermelon flesh into the pitcher and turned the machine on. Theroar drowned the sound of the retching and, for a while, he stared at the red swirl.

Tessie began to tremble slightly, and the restlessness in her eyes supposed a greater quake insideher. She rushed to the glass rack, filled a glass with water from the faucet.

As she rushed out with the brimming glass, Benji cut into her path and took the glass from her

hand. He thought she would protest, but she acquiesced and turned to continue what she wasdoing.

With each step that he took towards the bathroom, the muffled sound became clearer and

undeniable. He regretted taking the glass when the horrid sound of regurgitation became distinctfrom the groans and desperate gasps.

He stood at a corner half-revealing and half-concealing his chubby frame, seeing the actors that

stood on a set resembling their bathroom.

The actor suddenly burst out of a room and walked briskly across the hallway carrying a cartonof orange juice. The actor stooped and offered the carton to the actress, who continued to gag

over the toilet bowl. She shook her head violently and shoved the carton away. The actor reached

for the sink with the carton, and laid it there; but the sink refused the burden and hurled the tallcontainer into an orange explosion on the clean tiled floor.

The actress continued to gag and retch, while the actor engaged in a somewhat comic actdrawing lengths of tissue paper, in a race against the actress bathrobe to soak up the orange spill.

Pop Popoy, make it stop! the actress rasped during a calm in her convulsions.

The actor looked at her confused, still clutching the dripping tangle of tissue paper.

Popoy, make it stop, please, she coughed. Ayoko na! God, please. Stop it! A series of spasmcaught her shoulders and racked her back again and again over the toilet bowl. Popoy, she

cried with tears streaming down on all four corners of her eyes.

The actor rushed out of the bathroom accidentally kicking the empty orange juice carton across

the hallway. He disappeared into a doorway, and after a while, came out with an assortment of

medicine bottles that he clutched close to his chest. But he stepped on the carton and slipped,falling into his side and sending the bottle crashing to the floor.

The actor seemed unperturbed, as he got up on all four and collected the scattered bottles. A

while after his comical act, the actor stood up, limped towards the bowed woman and offered her

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the bottles of medicines.

No, no more! Not this! she cried. I want to die, let me die! she screamed and knocked awaythe bottles from the actors hands. Let me die, she sobbed. The slight respite that tears afforded

her did not last, and she began to retch and render her life once again onto the white toilet bowl.

Benji stood in darkness, contemplating the scenes as they unfurled before him. He felt satisfied

of their performance, as the expected ending held true to the usual of endings. Every night, the

actress will tire herself and sleep with her cheeks clinging on the white brim of the toilet bowl.The actor will then clean up around her and carry her to their room.

The nights performance had begun to end in its usual manner. The actor took a handful of tissue

and started dabbing around the sleeping actress.

Benji gave an irresistible yawn. The night was wrapping itself up with routine. Routine, after all,

makes life habitable by wearing away the sharpness of the mind to perceive bland realities or

dismal truths. Most of the time, its what makes people sleepy.

The actor then stood straight and allowed the soaked ball of tissue to drop to his feet. Benjisattention was suddenly awakened.

The actor bowed slightly and gently stroked the sleeping actress hair. He sat down on the tiled

floor beside her and rubbed her back gently, as if lulling her to a deeper sleep. His father thenclutched the bridge of his nose, while his shoulders quivered at each sob that he kept hidden deep

beneath his large chest.

Benji cowered in darkness, shivering at the sharpness of what he saw.

Realitys vitality had shed the cloak of television acts and scenes. No longer did he saw actors.He saw his fathers tears flow for his mother, who sat on the bathroom floor, embracing the

immaculate whiteness of the toiled bowl. He saw his mothers vein-studded hands clutch the

white brim of the toilet as if it was a miraculous porcelain saint in a grotto. Such scenes werewanting of a miracle; it clutched desperately on the imaginary hem of an imaginary savior.

He knew what his fathers tears meant. They were like whispered secrets that course through the

air, when people think that children are not around to overhear. But he wanted to deny theshimmer of defeat on his fathers chin; he wanted to deny what they meant.

SCENE 5

He lay uneasily in bed while the pasts dead sounds and sights lingered in his mind. For a

moment, he thought he heard his mother retch in the still darkness, but he knew she lay

unmoving with the weight only exhaustion from living can haul onto someones chest.

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Behind his eyes waited dreams of sparkling pools in Villa Christina; but he was afraid to dream.

They will do nothing but release more tears, as if his eyes were the pools drains.

Did he really believe Tessies reassurances? For so long, people had been deceived, or they are

out to deceive. They have always claimed that the cures were working. But it is not their fault.

Just like the way the lively colors of his mothers medicines hid their bitterness, so does the hopein cure do much to deceive.

He curled himself in a corner of his bed and found comfort and warmth in the cuppedhemisphere of an imagined womb.

His mother wanted to die, and his father had finally allowed her to. Tomorrow, the school service

will arrive and haul him to a crowded world where green taste like mint; and violet, ube; andbrown, chocolate. But he knew they will all taste bitter in his mouth.

-end-

3rd Draft. 07/27/2000

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bottled bitterness

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