Haunting

The radiant light from the mid-day sun was blinding, the generous warm temperature from its rays was tepid than fiery. The coil of the wind blowing from the east was sultry and dry as it touches my fair skin. A meadow in a hill where the wild grasses grow to its fullest, the dusty land was full of its vibrating greenery painted the whole vast plain. There’s no tree in this area, no flower nor thorny vines, just plain grasses spreading in front of me in a variable landscape views of green- as the grasses were swaying where the wind blows, dancing in unison like melodies of a song. The very land was moving at a snail's pace, moving as a cloud moves in the sky, as a wave moves at the sea. It’s an outlandish site to behold, calming as it was soothing to my mind as I closed my eyes to feel its intense effect in my body.

Then there’s this loud noise, distracting sound like it’s a vehicular horn pumping in my head. It was loud then it was low until it transforms into a jingle, it’s like a bell ringing to my ears as it was extending, it never stop until it wakens me…

 

I snap back to my senses as if a giant vacuum suck me in haste, its morning…                

The shrilling tingles of my alarm clock separate me from the excerpted flashes of my dream. I open my eyes and face the right side table of my bed to check the time, its six o’clock in the morning. I turn the alarm off and lay back to bed for awhile, listening to all of my senses and telling them to wake up as if they can literally answer me back. I can still feel the drowsiness; the sleepiness in every part of my body, the dream is calling me back and the flashes of pictures sparkling in my head as I close my eyes. I am asleep yet I am awake, I am drifting in a world unknown yet I am conscious of the reality unfolding as the hour of the early morning progresses.

 

But I don’t want it to stop…

 

I want to stay in this fortress of comfort for awhile as I sink deeper in my bed, feeling the softness texture of the sheet- it isn’t silk or velvety for that matter but the quality of its simplicity will do the job. I move my head to the left to look at the window in this side of the room and check the weather outside- gloomy morning, a bit chilly in a middle of August,

 

“Christmas is coming early this year”; I thought to myself...

 

The rays of the Sun are incapable as it is block by the thickness of the marvelous clouds, its radiant light unable to warm the ambiance of my room. This frosty breeze of weather brings out the lazy boy in me… I just want to curl in my pajamas, here in my bed, in the comfort of my room watching my favorite television series on my laptop. How can I care about going to work when my bed is not ready to let me go-the soft pillow is taking me hostage in my own accord and my warm comforter fasten me in this metallic strongholds of my bed.

 

There’s no one stopping me to give in, I didn’t built my life for any rules or set myself to the standards of the societies norm, but what is conscience if you don’t feel the guilt, the guilt of taking my work for granted… still I lie, I lie for a minute or two enjoying the diminutive pleasures of caring less, pushing away all the traitorous feeling of guilt, letting myself free from all the conscience that dictated my head for a little while.

 

 I shift myself to face the right corner of my room; my alarm place in my bed table is ticking loudly commanding me to get up. My built-in closet is standing grandly in the corner, its antique sliding is half open; maybe I forgot to close it last night as I was dead tired when I got home from work… My mind lingers for awhile as I continue to scrutinize the clutter in my cabinet, then it drifted into the dream I dreamt before my alarm woke me.

 

 “Strange” I thought.

 

I never had this kind of dream, when I felt like I was in a different place, it’s like a different world out there and I was part of it. That was the kind of dream that I had earlier; a panoramic dream of places, views of pastoral landscape like of the paintings in any gallery I visited in the past. I am familiar of these places, this is not the erotic dream I often have and not even the nightmares that made me shiver at night under my blanket… This time it’s a pleasant one, mild and movingly photographic as the vestige of its vision protruding from the clouds and vividly pushing the picture forward from the fog as if I was seeing it inside a moving train.

 

It’s Friday, everybody is allowed to come late at work every Friday, not the typical job that I normally do. Leniency is the rule that company is not aware of. Or maybe just me, that I don’t really care about the rules, f**k the rules!

It doesn’t really matter as long as I perform well and give the company what they expect of me, what they’re paying for, that’s all that matter.

 

And I am good in what I do-the best one in there!

 

I am a Human Resources associate in a huge marketing agency, I used to be a freelancer in marketing consultation but not anymore, I am employed.

 

GENESIS Marketing is an agency that helps multi-million companies sell their products or even new company that are trying to break into the mainstream. Genesis is good and known to be the best in the Philippines. As for me, I bring them clients from all over the world.

Lately, I’ve been covering for international clients, helping them decide on why they should take the chance of opening up their business in this country… This art of persuasion is the main key to my success, the deception of vanity- were good looks, style and wit are sum into one are the perfect formula to succeed in this kind of game. Persuasive narcissism, if there’s such a term, being beautiful sometimes makes a person believable- for some huge company that I’d handled, this technique works for me, they never really conducted a background check, my background check like it’s not really important at all.

 

In this economy where vicious thievery is a past time for the desperate of heart and the methods of this type of cruelty has been altered creatively all through the years.

 

The savagery of robbers and criminals alike are being ingenious now a days, is there such art in this vindictive chosen career? Or a training or seminar perhaps for those who assaults? What about conscience or guilt? These people are pitiless, careless with their victims as if they’re animals stripped with the knowledge of morality and the value of respect for human beings… But what is morality anyway for the hungry, for the suffering, for the oppressed, for those who live under the bridge… People needs to be cruel to survive, to swallow the conscience of the mind to live- Survival, that’s all there is.

 

But these companies, hugely successful as they are, despite of the multi-millions they generated, the profits, the conquest are merely illusion for the public to see… For someone like me who view my perspective from the inside, they seem like naïve and ignorance of the game we are playing. To easily give their trust to someone who is introverted; someone who is aloof, someone like me for instant… What’s in me anyway? I am just a normal guy or at least I believe that I am for every aspect of it.

 

At five-foot eight I never really consider myself a tall guy, for an average Asian guy like me I could pass but never a big guy. As the time surpassed, my used to be thick wavy locks are now thinner, so it is a prerogative of mine to maintain a simple hair style, there’s a pink glow in my fair skin rather than my natural pale shade when I was younger. I am still the nerdy type of a guy and nothing much change in my personality except that I am more interested in a good conversation and fascinated with words and perfect dialogues rather than being buried in sentences and paragraphs in the pages of the book that once signifies my life when I was growing up. My whole features are much more the same, fit but not gym fit type of body, few muscles but not overly toned. I’m still not an outdoor type but I jog if I’ve got the time, it’s the only physical activity I have to keep myself fit. My looks are much more define, my well shape browns, thicker lashes in my dark brown eyes. My narrow aristocratic nose is still the same and so is my pink luscious and semi pouted lips. 

 

I don’t even believe myself sometimes, the words that are coming out of my mouth, those flattery and flowery words I used in my discussion with my clients are unbelievably comical. Maybe the way I speak? What did they call it?

 

 “Oh yeah, Eloquence, the art of the language, the fluency of the words, But isn’t it a skill?” I muse.

 

But not in this lifetime that I become poetic, melodic perhaps but never poetic- nothing in my body that defines poetry, nothing at all, not even in the seductive ways. I consider the possibility that this is a gift, genetic gift if I may say. The looks, the voice, the charisma are all in one package of genes… Is it a crime to be compelling? I hope not because I am not ready yet to be convicted.

 

It’s Seven o’clock when I finally rose up from the engulfment of my bed, out of the room crossing my black and white style living room to my oriental dining to drink water from my water filtered pitcher placed at the dining table- I get a straight clear glass cup from the kitchen, went back to the dining area, filled the glass and drink the water ‘til it quench my thirst. The temperate water from the pitcher is soothing as it enter my mouth, drench the dryness in my esophagus and hydrate myself as it shove any remnant of sluggish senses from my body. The water is divine and cleansing as it wakens every particle of my anatomy, my veins, my lungs and muscles and my very heart. I close my eyes and I listen to my body praising the refinement of the water as it comes to life and ready to face the day ahead.

 

The gloomy feature of the weather provides a consoling dim of ambiance in every corner of my condo unit; I am at the twenty-six floor of the Burgundy Tower in Katipunan Avenue, facing across the enormous campus of the Ateneo University. At my living room, my full-size window facing the famous street shows the view of the University, its grandness, from the spacious parking space and the vast soccer field to the outline of architectural building sprouting from numerous trees surrounding the campus, old and recently constructed buildings are everywhere, but the most distinct structure visible from a far is the outline of the cross on the roof of the chapel built at the center of the campus. The grand design of the chapel is seems to be modern in style, I caught myself many a times when I just stared at the figureless cross outside my window while sipping my coffee in this cute living room of mine…

 

My one bedroom unit is not as spacious as I can think of… It has an L shape where in upon entering the abode, my living room in its black leathery couch and appliances and the white paintings of the walls engulf my visitors with welcoming arms… I am not particular about my interior design as I just want it to be like a bachelor’s pad, simple with few decorative materials everywhere that provide the illusion of endless space in my living room. Across is the entrance wooden door of my bed room, painted in white as usual, with its stainless black metal bed with white cover sheets, pillows and cream color comforter blanket… the full-size window is simplicity in its white curtains hanging in silhouettes from top to bottom touching the black matted floor. My mini-kitchen as well as my dining room is situated at the end left corner after the living room, this is the only part of my apartment that is not cover in black and white colors…it has an oriental style I copied from the dining room of my Chinese-Filipino client who is crazy about anything oriental in style. I will not consider it as grand as the old hotel room in the metro or the over-price condo units in some high profile places in manila but this place has been my only sanctuary for years, the prize and success from the hard work since I came here fifteen years ago…

 

While at the dining area my telephone rang a distinct tone implying that someone at this hour is calling me long distance. A client calling at this hour is a possibility but rare, my boss Annie is definitely in her bed, dreaming at this very moment, not her style to wake up as early as seven in the morning to make a call, besides she never call me through my landline… The sound of the phone ringing disrupted me from the contemplated activities in my head… I went directly to the living room and answer the phone, “Hello, Good Morning” I said it in my soft sleepy tone, as I listen to the other line, waiting for the other person to speak up not knowing who it is… I heard an erratic breathing, a sobbing tone of a man’s voice in the other line, an anxious voice of a strong visayan accent answered me back, “Gave, it’s me Gave, Damien, do you still remember me?”, I am caught off guard when I heard his name, unable to speak, I sat down to my leather couch to settle myself and pull myself together, “Damien? Yeah! I remember you,” I said it in calm voice, deceiving him how I really feel inside, the astonishment that I am feeling when I first heard his voice… It is really Damien; my dear friend Damien, grandson of Nana, the happy-go-lucky Damien of Saint-Augustine is in the other line talking to me with his southern native voice, how can I forget him…

 

 “Dame, this is a surprise! How are you”, with a happy tone this time, concealing the shock in my voice as much as possible, “Yeah! Been a long time Gave, I’m great! How are you? I hope I didn’t wake you up” he said.

I chuckle and said “Oh No! I am already awake, I’m an early bird you know”, I said it with an amusing tone then I ask,

 “What’s with the surprise call?” a teasing in my part as I feel the curl in my mouth forming a smile, this must be good.

 “Gave, your dad asked me to call you, he wants you to come home for the fiesta on Saturday” he told me, I didn’t move for a moment, the smile fade away, fixing my eyes on the unknown as I process the news that Damien just told me…

 

My father wants me to go home for the fiesta, this is big news! I haven’t speak to my father for almost fifteen years, I cut-off any communication that I have with my family and all the people and everything in my past when I decided to leave my home town and ran away.