Mario Vargas Llosa, “Why Literature”

Father came back and saw us overjoyed with all the toys. He told us to pick the toy we wanted. I was very happy then for I had my eyes on a doctor’s toy kit. It very unlikely that father would allow us to choose for ourselves. We would find toys in the house and we would fight over it. He then tells us that we should share everything that we own with each other.

I had my doctor’s toy kit as for my brothers they had their toy guns. I was very happy then.

Now that I am in college, I reminisce the time when I was allowed to choose for myself. I think of being responsible for my actions and I try my best to show my father that I can stand on my own now. and I recalled how he told me with a smile, ”I know you can.”

I never got to fulfill what I said at my kindergarten graduation: that I want to be come a doctor. But I am happy with the memory that I once had a dream which I knew that would make father happy. Then time came that I had to fulfill my own.

As he mount his old rusty bicycle, I would run outside to say goodbye. He would just smile. As he pedaled away, I would follow his silhouette down the road until he disappeared in a cloud of dust.

His old mountain bike was our first bonding together.

I remember then, back in grade school, he bought a bike for me and my siblings.

She stood with her black face some six inches from the moist window-pane and wondered would it ever stop raining.

Alice’s hand outstretched on the open window feeling on her palm the raindrops that were as cold as her husband, Jim. Weather forecast announced that a storm was expected that night, she foreseen that a storm was already passing by in her life.

“It isn’t working, Alice. We can’t last”, Jim finally declared his retirement on a job that required love and time, two things that were forced to be coughed out from him.

Before the clouds started turning gray and dark, Alice spent her youthful days with mirth under the sun’s rays. Smiles, laughter – she had thought these were also present on those silver thread-like rains dropped by nimbus clouds. But when she stood in front of the altar with a stranger arranged for her marriage by their parents to compensate the ancient feud, heard the words: You are now husband and wife, she realized that threads usually had needles attached to it.

The soft rain turned to a hard storm pricking her heart like a needle when Jim forcefully took their baby away from her, putting its care to Jim’s mother. “When he grows up, I will allow him can visit you when there’s free time,” Alice remembered how the smell of cigar and alcohol wafted in the air as Jim entered her room, cursed and left the house with a loud bang on the door.

If kindness could be related to her husband and in-laws, it would be a rain; and if it be related to her parents, it would be the nimbus cloud.

With her left, hand Alice tried gripping the rain, imaginarily pulling it down until it fell loose. At last, she grew tired and frustrated that she formed her right into a hand scissors and fiercely cut the rain in tidbits.

Alice stood with her face some six inches from the mental hospital’s moist window-pane and said, “There. The rain has been cut. No more storms now.”

On Tuesday afternoons she would watch him on the beach as he gathered the nets from the sea. He is a small man—short and small-boned, but work has sculpted his body- just like hers. His eyes were kind, steady, confident. How she gazed at them the first time he looked at her.

“Here, take these. The nets are heavy today, we’re blessed,” he said as he handed her two fresh tunas by the tail.

“Do you want. . . anything in return?”

“No, for a beautiful lady like you, they’re free.” He smiled and turned back for the shore. He loved him since then.

The rain grew fiercer, the fish traps may not hold. Marcelino could be there at the beach trying to save his catch.

She closes the window-pane, turns off the lights. It’s ten past nine and it’s running late. She opens her umbrella and steps outside the beating rain. . .or he may be at home warmed by his fair-skinned wife.

Shivering, she started to walk through the weeping evening and wet deserted street, wondering who her Marcelino would be for tonight. [256 words]

Dream, my sister is only a year younger than me, and because of that we were always in competition. My parents would always give us the same amount of allowance, the same brand of clothes, and even an equal share of household chores for the sake of treating us fairly. However, back when I was five, I really felt that life was unfair.

My sister got an expensive coloring set from her godmother. That time, I did not need clothes, dolls, or chocolates, all I wanted was a set of coloring materials but my own godparents did not know that fact.

At the end of the day, I decided to draw and color while watching our favorite shows. My sister, who was trying to make me envious decided to draw as well. I was enjoying coloring without borrowing from her new coloring set and I pretended not to be envious.

But then, I saw her holding my newly- sharpened pencil. I hated her because she was not contented of what she had. Then, I tried to snatch my pencil back but I could not do it because she was holding it too tight. We ended up rolling, struggling on the floor. Because I was a year older and stronger than Dream, she was beneath me, lying on the floor. Both of us exerted all our strength in the struggle to get the pencil. She was holding tight to it while I was losing my energy. I stopped pulling. Her forceful pull downward to get the pencil made her stab the pointed pencil in her lower left eye.

I was not very sure if it was because of victory, fright or the volume of my sister’s wailing, but I felt numb. I saw my mother panicking to rescue my sister. I did not stand up or even bother to help. I just sat on the floor while our helper kept on asking me what happened. I was not listening to her; I was preoccupied watching my father carrying my sister away to the hospital, while my mother was crying.

I cried. I was very afraid, afraid of being scolded, spanked or worse, losing my or best friend.

That night, I kept on asking our helper about my family, but she knew nothing. I waited for them all night but they didn’t come back. Later that night, our helper told me that my sister had undergone a small operation. I did not sleep.

The next day, it was only Papa who came back home. He did not spank or scolded me but I really felt his coldness towards me. He told me the good news that my sister was in good condition and that she would be coming home with my mother after two days. ^^ When my sister came back, I never stopped whatever I was doing to greet her. I then realized that even children could have pride. She was then, put to bed for rest. I just continued what I was doing.

Papa came to me and surprisingly, he handed me a coloring set and a number of pencils.

“As the Ate, you should be patient with your sister. Just give her what she wants because in the first place, she quickly losses interests on things. Only the two of you will end up helping each other. Promise me that you will take care of her.”

Happy because of my new gifts, I raised my right hand as a sign of my promise as he carried me and put me to sleep.

My phone beeped again. There was another message from Dream: See you at the mall after your class later, thanks.

I came to our meeting place. She then stated to tell me things that she was supposed to buy and projects to make, implying that she needed extra money. She really knew that I can’t say no to her even though I’m aware that she spends her money on useless things. My parents are aware of that, so they stopped giving her an extra allowance.

I studied her face, and I can still see the mark in the lower part of her eye. The grayish color of lead that penetrated into her skin near the lower left eye is still clear after twelve years. It may seem invisible to other spectators, but for me it s there. The gifts, or should I say bribe that Papa gave to me then are all gone now, but I’m still keeping my promise to help and guide her. I know that she is smart and responsible for every deed. That is why I still trust and support her.

Our meeting ended with us going our own separate ways, with her a contented smile and me worrying how to budget the money that was left on my purse.

Nina didn’t see any changes. As she gazed towards their barrio’s bountiful field, she allowed her arms to flail freely through the open window in the warmth of the summer’s day. The heat consumed her body and almost burnt her skin. The panoramic view of towering acacia and bamboo trees beside their kubo were like splendid living replicas of heavenly stairways, along with her garden, countless Gumamelas, Maravillosas and Ilang-ilang shaded in different hues of which she planted three years ago, and was fenced by sun burned bamboo poles and cogon grasses, had burst into full bloom . Almost everything was at their usual, but not quite.

No room for much admiration because she still have to cook afternoon meal for her sickly father. A steaming ginisang gulay would probably fit for a good meal. As she headed back in the kitchen, she noticed her old Rubric’s cube on top of their almost worn-out rattan couch. Surprisingly, it was perfectly arranged according to colors. It was beautiful. No one would dare to arrange it for there were only two of them inside the kubo. As she was going to inquire him, her father spoke of assertion in low-tone which was apparently much to her amazement.

“I did it.”

For a moment, both were silent. Nina felt uncomfortable because she was not used to the situation. Her Itay usually denies as of what was accused of him. It was as if a manifestation of probable alteration on his part. She slowly believed him but not until he took a stick of tobacco and lighter from his cargo pants, her notion of him changing gradually became vague.

“Tay, how many times have I told you to quit smoking?”

“Do not mind me! You know that this gives me happiness. Besides, if I’ll be having a hard time breathing again, albularyong Tacio is just a few blocks away. Just turn on the radio and cook our viand.”

His response sounded like their old wrecked Betamax: producing endless, repeated noise. She knew her sermon could not cease him from his addiction. Afraid that one day, her father’s tuberculosis might worsen. If only she had a mother to reprimand him.

Breaking news: an insane woman, about fifty-two years of age died in a road accident this morning.

The radio anchor reported.

She was back to her business in the kitchen. While peeling and slicing the onion and repolyo into strips, the ideation of how her mother cooks ginisang gulay came to her mind. Her Aunt Mira once told her before leaving the barrio for marriage, how her mother cooked ginisang gulay deliciously. At first, Nina was unmindful listening to the news, but not until she cut her left thumb with a sharp knife. Blood came flowing thoroughly like the idea of cooking ginisa in perfection. Perfection like her mother once had.

“Pa, where’s Nanay right now? What’s her real name? I want to see her.”

“I don’t know where your mother is.”

Nina expected that answer. She knew her father don’t want to talk about her. She knew the reason why. All she wanted was to meet her and see how she cooks ginisa perfectly or how she grows Gumamelas, Maravillosas and Ilang-ilang abundantly. But for that moment, it was just an idea meant to be deciphered.

The victim was identified as Chayong Tupaz also known as known as “Burikat Buang” (crazy slut) in Barrio Asuncion. According to the police, the force of a speeding truck hitting the victim was identified as the cause of death.

Nina drew her ear closer to the radio as she pinched her bleeding thumb. The person was familiar to her. And every detail seemed to crush her heart. Her tears flowed out like crystal rain on a hot summer afternoon.

“Turn off the radio. The news is getting senseless.”

“It doesn’t sound senseless ‘Tay. Aren’t you sad? Our Barrio’s entertainer is dead.”

“I don’t care. I think that Prostitute deserve that kind of death.”

“You’re so mean ‘Tay! Just because she’s a Prostitute and mad, she deserves that kind of death? She should be respected fairly like anybody else not because she’s just a woman of any sort but because she’s human.”

“You don’t know Chayong.”

“I know her. I know she bears too much inhumane suffering from this cruel world and my bare eyes and ears can attest to that.”

Her retort immobilized her father’s mouth from arguing back. It was as if the tobacco he inhaled earlier had an immediate terrible after effect on his ailing body that he longed to feel before after his wife left them for his womanizer brother, Edong.. –poisonous, infectious, deadly…

“You really don’t know her.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

“Know who?”

“You really don’t know your mother…”

The weather that day and the fire she made in the stove seemed to conspire and burnt her ginisang gulay. She tasted it. It was terrible and bitter. That’s when she realized that she failed to cook the ginisa perfectly and had to cook again another meal to satisfy her and her father’s hunger that afternoon.

Once upon a time I was dissatisfied with how I used my brains and with how Sam used his. “That is not the way how to castrate a rabbit,” he said. “You have to cut the skin above the scrotum, see?” he said, pointing the area with a scalpel. I nodded. “You should remove the testicles this way before you tie it with the spermatic cord. Can you pass the tissue glue please?” he continued. I just observed what my science partner did. After a few minutes, he said that I should give the rabbits some analgesics.

I kept the materials back at the cabinet. Then I went back to sit beside Sam, who was already recording our castration experiment. I overheard my classmate discussing about what she saw in the Discovery channel. “You know, the difference between you and the person sitting beside you is just 0.1 percent. That means that all humans share 99.9 percent similarities in their DNA compositions, whether that’s the color of your skins, the length of your hairs, or even how your brains work.”

I looked at Sam who was now stroking the rabbit gently. Somehow, I couldn’t believe that the difference between us is just 0.1 percent. [204 words]

The floor was a pool of tears.

The crimson liquid

of sticky water from my eyes

seeped into the deepest

pigments of my

skin

Then,

roots sprouted

from my soles,

my arms crawled

as vines.

Now,

every night you leave

I collide with the wind,

and bleed.

My sweetest

scent yields

from my

wounded petals.

The moon

watches over me

as I

diffuse my fragrance

to the air.

Come back

with the moonlight tonight

and feel

the joy of my sorrow.

“Thank you for your help, perhaps this amount will make you understand how precious is my grandson,” Mr. Rimas said as he handed me a check.

There is something on his lap, hidden by his other hand. I tried to ignore it, so I smiled and nodded as a sign of thanks. He looked at the clouds outside the window the plane, seemed to be very excited to see the grandson he had never seen for five years.

“Mr. Rimas, your grandson according to our sources is now in Denmark living with his boyfriend. In less than an hour we will be there, the paradise of people like Fret because of the availability of-“

“I don’t need more information about him, all I want is to see him. I don’t care now if Fret is still now with my ex-nurse. I would accept him for what he is and then maybe he could also forgive me.”

There, I finally recognized the thing he was holding tight – a shirt. Although it was a branded shirt, it was old. He smiled at me realizing I was observing him, holding the shirt. He started sharing his life.

“When he was young, he gave me this shirt as a birthday present because he won in a bible contest in the church he used to attend. He is a faithful Catholic, but I felt something unusual when he transferred to the Metropolitan Community Church in his teenage years. ”

“Mr. Rimas, why did you suddenly decide to see your grandson after five years of forsaking him?” I thought it sounded too personal, but my words already came out.

“That is not your business anymore Mr. Pio, but I will answer you. It is simple; I need an heir because a year ago, those know-it-all doctors told me that I would not live another year. Well, they said that they are not even so sure about the time span they gave me. My money seemed worthless for them when they told me that they cannot do anything.”

I can feel the pain that he feels through his voice, the pain in the truth that he couldn’t buy everything after all. I doubted the reason of him wanting an heir. Then, the truth came out.

“I had countless plans for Fret, those plans vanished when I discovered the truth about him. However, those plans are coming back again now. I hope that Fret could forgive me in what I have done to him. It was wrong when I called them using offensive words and insulted them. If talking to someone I hated for sixty years would help me to acquire Fret’s forgiveness, I am willing to do that. Believe me, I would rather die than see him hating me.”

We were interrupted by the voice that informed us that we are about to land. Then there was silence between us.

“Mr. Rimas, we are now here in Denmark, famous being the first government to recognize same-sex marriage. You would see Fret at last. From where we would land, it would only take us a few minutes to go to your ex-nurse and your grandson’s condo”, I said while keeping the check he gave me.

“Could you please go and tell my bodyguards to prepare my wheelchair. Hah, even though sitting in that wheelchair is so exhausting, tell them that I need it again. I will just talk to someone that I never talked to for almost sixty years. Maybe He could help me with Fret. You know, He is my last resort.”

At that moment, his hold to the T-shirt on his lap became tighter, then I saw him bowing his head and closing his eyes. I followed what he ordered. I walked and went to the place allocated for employees like me.

After a while, I came back with his bodyguards. His eyes are still closed and somehow still holding tight to the old T-shirt. But now, he looked pale and lifeless. Someone called the doctor. The doctor rushed and checked his responses. There was no response. His eyes are still closed and it never opened again.

The bodyguards were here to put him to a stretcher, not on his wheelchair. He can now take rest in sitting on that wheelchair. However, his continuous grip to the shirt would never give him serenity. [728 words]