It’s been weeks now. My legs are numbing from gravity. The wooden floor seems hollow, and I can only think of crawling toward the door. The weather outside creeps into my skin, scorching me to the bone. Nay Seling set the electric fan last night, but it is not helping much. I overheard on the radio that today’s heat will reach around forty degrees. And it has been weeks now since my bed became my sanctuary.
On the wall across from my headboard is a tiny altar that has been there since we moved into this house. It has a small silver crucifix, an image of Nuestra Señora del Rosario, and a vase of orange daisies that Nay Seling put there three days ago. She sure has been praying a lot, but I don’t. I seldom stare at it, thinking that the crucified Jesus could deliver miracles right at this moment, and I’d only look away, laughing at myself.
“Miracle my face,” I smirked.
I was working as a clerk in Metro Davao. There, life is vibrant, loud, and happy—something somebody like me, who grew up in the countryside, would always dream of. I enjoyed life as a cosmopolite, taking my time away from my parents, who stayed in our place working on a coconut plantation. I got to visit them once or twice a month, depending on my available time. Holidays, of course, are non-negotiable. I spent these special occasions with them.
“Anak, would you like to have your lunch now?” Nay Seling shouted from our sala.
“Yes, Nay,” I replied, trying to sound better. It was still eleven in the morning; maybe she had prepared our lunch earlier than usual.
I caught a cold and a fever almost a month ago. As I felt seriously ill, I filed for a five-day leave so I could consult a physician. Anyway, there was nothing wrong with my laboratory results; we reckoned that this cough was giving me such a hard time that I needed to take medicines intended for a respiratory infection. As I returned to work, I felt normal and went on to do my job. I felt terrible for not being around for quite a while.
There was so much to work on since the day I left. Also, I lost a certain amount of weight since then. Tori, one of my lunch mates, told me that my eyes were getting hollow.
Yes, Tori. I’m trying to get better. Please shut up, I thought.
Well, everyone in the office seemed to pick on my weight loss. After three days of returning to work, they were probably right. I felt ill again. Come on. I can’t be sick. I needed to work to get on with my life.
“Here’s your lunch, anak.” Nanay came in, bringing a tray of food and my medicine. She also brought some alingatong tea for me to drink.
We went to see a faith healer in Oriental who gave us alingatong for me to consume for fourteen days. She said that this herb has many benefits. It was a bit pricey since she bought it from the Aetas in Talaingod, where this herb grows abundantly in the hinterlands. She was quite sure of the results it could bring.
But today is the thirteenth day.
“Nay, I think I need to use the toilet.”
“Would you need me to assist you?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
I tried standing on my feet. My first step was a mess; I wobbled big time. I fell on the floor. Nanay Seling screamed in shock. Tatay Eping rushed into the room. I felt helpless lying there. He carried me to the toilet and waited for me to get done. He carried me once again to my room. It was like a scene from La Pietà. I am twenty-six years old, yet I am ashamed that my old man is carrying me as if I were only a toddler.
Today is the thirteenth day.
Since we went to that faith healer and drank alingatong tea, I have not become better. I honestly have become worse. Skin and bones, eyes deep-seated, neck bulging with a lump. I can’t even lift a finger. I can’t even pray. I can’t even look at the crucified Son who took all the sins of the world, as they say. I can’t even scratch my back when my wounds itch. I can’t even tell my parents the truth.
I fooled them by agreeing to go to Oriental, buy an expensive tea, and lie in my bed for two weeks while my mother says the rosary every night.
I fooled them when I told them I’m straight. I hid for all my life, trying to make them proud. My sexual preference was never brought to the table to begin with. I was so full of myself that my status as a city guy could make them happy for me, at least.
I never imagined that I would date random people during Kadayawan. I got a message from a guy named Henry saying that he saw me at the IT park where I worked and that he was interested in me. I took the bait. He came to my place thrice. I asked to go to his place, but he declined, saying that he was living with his sister and brother-in-law, and it would be difficult for him to introduce me as somebody who was special to him.
I was patient enough to understand him because I liked him.
Okay, then, I thought.
That was the last time we saw each other. The next day, I tried calling him, but his social media account was nowhere to be found.
Facebook user. Good game. I instantly knew it.
Since then, I have been anxious about what might happen next. And then I got sick, took days off from work, went back, got ill again, resigned from work, and went home. I never knew if Henry was his real name. I was dumb enough to trust a stranger that quickly.
“We need to see a doctor, Boyet,” Tatay Eping said firmly. Checkmate.
I refused. I didn’t say a word; I only stared at the ceiling, watching the moth flying around the light bulb.
“Anak, maybe we can get more help. Please, listen to me.” Nay Seling patiently uttered every word as if she was choking.
I looked at the altar and noticed the white daisies, the crucifix, and the image of Nuestra Señora del Rosario. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I felt like bursting deep inside. I knew from the beginning that I needed help. Not from the healer, and certainly not from alingatong tea.
Silence filled the room.
“How long will it take to get to the city proper, Tay?” I asked.
Ian Jane P. Orillaneda is a literacy advocate and currently teaches in the public sector. She believes that writing transformative stories could create meaningful connections within social communities. As a wife and a mom, she hopes that raising and believing in the strength of a family will create positive ripples in society.