And God Said Let There Be Children

We usually start our summer day by sitting on our wooden bench, carrying a plastic bag of salt and a handful of rocks, and me trying to see if she's in a good mood or just wants to keep it quiet as it is. We spent many days here in our backyard garden just looking at the endless stretch of sugar cane fields, trying to imagine how clear the river during sunny days judging from how blue the faraway mountains are. It was all I could ask for to spend my vacation. With Tina beside me, I'd always feel I'm safe and everything would be alright, even if her ideas oftentimes end up Mang Tasyo chasing us with his leather belt. She always has this crazy mood; one time, she really wanted the biggest and sweetest santol on that tree that Mang Tasyo has been caring for since Marcos was president. We threw stones at the tree until every santol fruit fell down to the ground but one--- the biggest santol I've ever seen in my life. Tina, I tell you, was a good shot she could hit a chicken smack right in between the eyes even if its running at full speed; but at that moment, she got frustrated she couldn't even scratch a fruit as big as a volleyball. We had our pack of salt ready but the moment we heard the poor old man scream and saw his famous leather belt he said he bought from a salesman from Manila, we ran for our lives but not without a few santol in hand. I ate alone that afternoon. Tina still seems to be pissed at the fruit she couldn't hit. When I said even Allan Caidic couldn't hit triples all day, she left me altogether. She has a crush on him, I suppose.

When her moods get better, she would chat all day just like those girls in my class do. She would talk about how Aling Bebang slept with Mang Tasyo, and how Mang Tasyo's wife Aling Maria caught them in the act and chased them both down the streets beating them with his own leather belt. We would laugh our hearts out until our bellies ached. Girls just love to gossip, that's why I hate them, but with Tina it was funny and interesting. I wonder why she's not out buying pink-colored ice candies with girls her age. Perhaps, she's beautiful, too beautiful for a typical rural girl. Tina has this light brown hair that reminds me of steamed sweet corn when you open them, and eyes the color of rocks when you can see through a flowing stream. I like it when my mother has nothing to do, and just spends her siesta combing Tina's hair and tying them into a centipede, they call it. I think its more like a longganisa side by side. One problem I have aside from Tina's moods was her skin. She's as pale as coconut flesh so she can't stay out under the sun for long. One time when we were fishing down the river with Uncle Ben, she was gossiping so hard about who was sleeping with who that she forgot we've been under the sun for hours. She had this weird reddish patches on their skin that got me and Uncle Ben worried. We tried to apply first aid the health center taught us but Tina insisted she's alright. We suggested we bring her to my father who must know how to care for her better, but she declined. She's brave that way: crazy and stupid.

I take it back. She's not stupid. She crazy, yeah, but she's the most intelligent girl I know. She's the top of her section, I heard. Often I ask her about those homework in fractions I've been staring at for the last 3 hours, she would breeze through them within minutes. When it comes to counting numbers, nobody can beat her in speed and in accuracy. She said she love Math because it cannot lie.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I told her when I got irritated with her talk about Algebra.
“Then you will be lost in more complicated things,” she would reply smugly.
I've seen boys brag but when Tina brags, she brags like a girl. When we brag, who could piss the longest or who could fart the loudest, we end it with a fist-fight so that no one forgets.

“Well, I'm better in spelling and memorizing the dictionary than you,” I screamed.
“You're in grade 3, what do you know,” she said, smugly, again.

“Hey, lovebirds,” shouted a boy from Tina's class with a snot always dripping from his nose even when he takes a bath, “look there, two abnormals talking.”

We heard a chorus of laughter and shouting of words I couldn't understand. I only stood there thinking of running away when more and more boys taller than me surrounded Tina, mocking and spitting at her on something I could barely grasp. Then it happened. She punched the boy with a snot right on his snotty nose, the snot replaced with fresh, red blood flowing like an open faucet. She kicked and bit with her teeth as some of the boys started punching her and pull her hair. When the dust settled, I found Tina standing up with blood from her lips and bruised arms. Some of the boys cried, the snotty boy was wailing like a girl, but Tina was weeping without tears. I know she's hurting, and all a grade 3 boy can do is take Tina home to my father. He's a rural doctor. All I could think of while we were walking was how I afraid I was. I will be lost in more complicated things in Grade 6.

“Father, what is an abnormal?”
“It means, not normal.” My father replied while he was busy applying peroxide on Tina's cuts and bruises.
“Those boys kept calling Tina that way, I hate them.”
“You should not use that on another person, Jim,” my father replied. “And you should stop asking about it.”
“It's alright, Dr. Garcia,” said Tina. “ I knew my weaknesses before they did.”
My father smiled at Tina. I knew that smile of admiration of his. I often saw that one when I did my homework well or when I say something really, really smart--- like the time I answered correctly that the capital of Philippines is Manila.

After that incident, Tina was always beside me, as if I needed the extra protection. She would teach me on math, I would teach her how to catch a bigger fish. She would come up with all her crazy ideas, like steal one of Mang Tasyo's chicken, and I would obey her like a scared but reluctant kid brother. She taught me carpentry she learned from school but I end up hammering my fingers, so she made a big backyard wooden bench all by herself. She never seems to want to go home until it's late in the evening. I asked her one time:
“What do you do at home, Tina.”
“I study.”
“Don't you play with your brothers. Talk to your father,” I knew her mother passed away a year ago.
She did not reply.

This afternoon, here now in our backyard on our handmade wooden bench where we shared many gossipy tales of this town, and where I threw my first pebble on our neighbor's backyard tree, I sat beside her with a pack of salt and pieces of stones on my hand, expecting another unexpected afternoon, intently searching for clues as to what Tina might be thinking for today. When I saw her face, I knew she wouldn't be chatting, or make up one of those crazy things I'm scared about. At first I couldn't open my mouth. But after an hour I became restless so I asked:
“What's wrong, Tina?”
I heard nothing from her.
“Did one of those boys called you abnormal again? I could punch one in the face if you like, now that I'm going Grade 4 I'm stronger this time, like you.”
She smiled. I'm glad she smiled, but I would very much want her to laugh.
“We're going to Manila, Jim,” she said suddenly.

I could hardly believe what I heard. I was happy. I knew Manila is a beautiful country with lots of beautiful buildings and bright kids. Not like the mean boys in this town. I knew she would be happy there.
“Hey, they have Jollibee there. You can eat as much as you want, I heard.”
“Yeah, but I like that santol, better,” Tina replied pointing at the one fruit she couldn't hit.
“You'll be happy there, Tina. I know you will.”
“Jim, I don't want to grow up,” she said. I saw tears beginning to form from her eyes.
“I...” she continued. “ If I grow-up, I might see how ugly I am.”
“You're making me sad, Ate Tina.”
“ No. Please stay happy. For me. For your Ate Tina.”
“ But you're not ugly Ate Tina. I think you're an angel.”
She smiled and kissed me long and sweetly on the forehead. I could smell her fragrance that reminded me of flowers and sunny days after rainy season. She embraced me and I felt her tears falling down on my neck and small of my back. She's shaking I embraced her so she would stop being lonely.

And just like that, she left.

When I woke up, at breakfast my father said Tina came by and left me a letter. I didn't eat my rice and longganisa Mother cooked( which funny, reminded me of Tina's hair), opened her letter and read it till the end. It was a happy letter, although she had misspelled some words. I kept it under my pillow, and promised myself that every night from then on, I would read it before I sleep. I promised myself, I would never let Tina fight the world alone ever again.