Unsent Letter

Hopefully this finds its way into your hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Disyembre 1950 (December 1950)
Tomas,

 

Remember when we were little, hide and seek was our game. The old cemetery was our warzone and the tombstones our shields. You were the best; we could never find you. The little ones thought you were a magician that perfected his disappearing act. They were always gullible, the younger children. You played along with it, awing them with your cunning and speed. Once I thought it could be true. How clever of you to slip into the trapdoors , the one belonging to the Cruz family leading into the crypts below. Tangled weeds hid it perfectly from view. You sly fox, have you tricked us again this time?

 

I say truthfully that you are missed. Not only by us, your comrades for life, but also by your family. Even by your father who beat you senseless. Really, can you blame him? Fool, you had asthma and you tried to smoke. You never repeated that afterward. So why have you gone away?

 

What does friendship mean to you? If not a bit, you have wasted your time with us. And family - do you even pity them? Everyday your mother knocks on my door with that giant fist of hers. She shattered my window once (was it an accident?). Where's my boy, she would say. Have you heard from Tomas, she would cry. Yes, you're still her Tomas even though you told us all that you wished to be called Thomas. What difference does it make, you dolt? It's just a letter longer than your real name. You're giving us a hard time pronouncing it. Just like in our school with Mr. Smith. Americans and heir th-th-th language. Epol, mansanas, apple. Same thing. Colonial mentality. It's gone to your head.

 

I've come to a conclusion that you've gone out of your mind. You were always cheerful, always normal to us. Why leave? Dodong says you were abducted by aliens. Where'd he get that term? Aliens. After stealing an American boy's comic book, he believes in such. Aliens. Looking back, I recall him as one of the gullible small children we used to play with. Nothing has changed about him, or anyone of our friends for that matter. Only you have changed.

 

I cannot forgive you for not saying good bye to me. I was your accomplice, partner-in-crime, etc. Your flight from your nest, the province we grew up in, rattled your lot and mine. Promises mean nothing to you now, do they? Seven years is a long time...and people need to move on. Your mother will, so will your father. Even your little sister who admires you. I will have to join them in forgetting you.

 

If ever you return home, you may look me up in my old address. Right next door. Make no mistake in thinking I've never left this place because of you. Unlike you, I care about what you have left behind. I wonder (we all do), if you're all right and thinking of us too. Sadly, we will never know. Unless you turn up in the dusty old street with your faded brown bag and that smirk on your face we could never erase.

 

If you ever return, we will not be able to see you. How sad that you had to go so young while all of us age gracefully. If we, if I could have done something, would you not have drowned yourself? The faded brown bag with nothing inside floating down the river like that. How could one run away without packing a thing? Or did you just grab your favorite possession and head out the door? Nothing in your home is missing. Not money or clothes or anything. You've made your decision. How selfish of you. The saddest thing is that we will never understand why.

 

If you are (and we do hope) living and well, we want you back. Please come by and we can chat over your favorite kapeng barako. Or have you gone completely American and wish to have uh, what was that brand again? Who cares. You love our traditional coffee even though you're Tomas with an h. I've set up an extra chair in the sala just in case you turn up. For old times' sake. Come back. For old times' sake.

 

Nina