Catanduanes Forum

Wed, 05/07/2008 - 17:56 — Dave
An updated version. Kindly read again!

He is really Ricardo, 21 years old. But he is Buoy to us, to me specially. He loves to sing. His voice is not exactly like Rico Puno, his favorite singer. But he sings. He sings when he tends to our carabao. He sings under the malungay tree out in the yard after dinner to lull himself to sleep. Yes he sings!

I don’t do much this time. I was always a housewife to Jose and my four children; Buoy is my youngest and only son. He looks like his father so much. His looks, his staying years in front of the mirror, his voice… his everything... is very much like Jose. He takes all the work now that Jose is gone. He gathers tuba every morning, tends to the carabao, goes to the farm and sings his afternoon away. I don’t mind much. I don’t do much anyway except cook in the morning and noontime. If only Tang Ilyo would let us build a house by their yard in Marambong, Buoy would be near his friends.

But yes, he sees his friends every once in a while. He would walk 30 minutes from our house up here in Layog Bunga to visit his friends and sing their lungs out. At times they would be up here singing in our porch over some bottle of gin. I don’t mind. That is his past time.

My three daughters are all gone. They have their own families in some shanties in Manila. They worked as house helpers after the death of Jose. They vowed to get Buoy through to college but, well, they got married one at a time even before Buoy can graduate at Tabugoc National High School in Panlilibon. But there again, he has nothing in the head to push him to graduate in the first place anyway.

We live on what meager amount he can get out of selling tuba. We have a small rice field enough for us. He plants vegetables in our yard. We don’t buy much things except kerosene, sugar, salt and sometimes fish or meat. Life is hard but the two of us live by. I live by… I have Buoy. Buoy is everything to me.

I remembered how it started. It was a bright moonlit night. Buoy was singing outside. Then I heard him talking in a hush with who I thought were his friends. Anyway I knew he has a crush on Meding and they always talk in a hush when they start talking about her, or their friends's sweet ones.

So when the yard got silent I knew they went down to visit Meding. I knew they’ve always done that in the past. So I did not really mind when he went back ever too careful to open the door and in going to his room mindful not to wake me up. I knew it was past 1:00 am as I heard the first crowing of the roosters.

It was around 7:00 pm one rainy night when the first scare shook me. Three young men with bayong came in with looks I cannot comprehend. Their lips were smiling but their eyes looked strangely not. They showed gestures of empty politeness. They tried to look decent but showed chilly terror with the every careful eye movement they made. And I knew Buoy is in trouble. I knew.

I pretended to be as composed as possible offering them things I do not recall now. I excused myself into my room. I knelt down in front of the altar and prayed like I’ve never prayed before. They are here! They’ve reached us!

I have always trusted Jose. I have always trusted Buoy too. I have never one reason to mind Jose’s business as I was always assured of his love. I have never any reason to mind Buoy’s business as he always showed in many ways his love to me. I did not ask him about the visit.

I was wrong.

I have seen Buoy less since then. He has changed his ways too. He would lock his room and sang less. He would be out in the night and tired during the day. He would evade my eyes; something that pierced my soul. He would not even hug me now. And once when he did, I felt the strangeness in my bosom. I knew he still loves me but there was strangeness in the way he held me. And when my tears soaked his shirt that was when he spoke what to be the last word I’d heard from him “Ma, this is for all of us.”

For all of… what? But as a simple housewife of a very simple family I had no voice. I never learned to ask. I knew we never learned to say how much we love each other. But everything we do shout the very same words to one another. And that was more than enough to assure us we have a family. Why would I start asking now?

I was wrong once more.

I was summoned to a "meeting" in Marambong one Saturday morning. Buoy was not around for me to say goodbye to. It has been several months since he started going home only to see I have food and provisions. I will just be in my room when he comes. I would hear him looking at things making sure I still have sugar, salt and all. I did not want to see him with those eyes again. I just stayed in the room waiting for him to call on me. That call never came. And the pain would come again. And tears would not be enough to quench the fire of pain in my heart the moment i hear the steps creaking away as he leaves. I knew the danger he is in and i did not want to see him ever too scared to see my suspicions confirmed. I did not want to trouble his already burdened soul. I would shake in silent sobs knowing Buoy is in danger and yet I cannot do anything. I just prayed like what good mothers should do. I would call all the angels and saints! I knew it has gone too far, too deep. I knew it was late, that anything I might do now may endanger my Buoy…

I found myself in the barrio clinic. Trembling and pushing myself through the thick crowd surrounding the clinic. I knew!

I howled but no voice came. I pushed my way through with rage in my heart and with prayers of a mother to spare my Buoy and take me instead. I knew it has happened! I prayed out loud.

"Santa maria madre de dios.... ruega por nos otros pecadores... ahora en la hora de nuestra muerte..."

De nuestra muerte! De nuestra muerte... Our death Lord! Not his, Lord! It keeps on repeating in my mind uncontrollably! De nuestra muerte... Our death Lord, not his! Not his, Lord! The same lines kept coming over and over in my head though with it comes a howling rage of an animal with voice so scary i could not believe it was coming from me!

"Buoooooy," emptied out of my voice as I felt myself deflate away into a dark abyss. I stumbled, but that animal rage in me picked me up and gave me strength to push myself through the crowd. My tears covered my eyes, perhaps to soften the sight waiting for me to see.

I finally made it to the door with friends and family holding me against a pile of bodies! I howled some more and out came a cry that shame all gods who made this possible. I howled to make some accusations to those pretending to be gods and save the world only to take Buoy, my life, my all, away. I howled at the realization of the cowardice of people who wanted to fight but pushed Buoy to fight in their stead.... I said lot of words... in silence but howled like no one did before until no more voice came out.

I kissed the bloody body of Buoy…. I shook him and begged all gods to wake him up. I begged him to look at me… but his eyes would stare at me no more. I tenderly wiped the blood in his face pierced by three bullets. Rage shook out a howl out of me. Dios ko… Dios ko… Dios ko… is all that came out to ask everyone the reason why this has to happen to Buoy! Inay ko… Inay ko… are empty words that empty out of me… I grabbed both of his hands on his spread out arms, my arms touching his lifeless body. I shouted mumbles in his ears while pushing out my spirit into him hoping he will breath once more... and talked to me... even for once... for the last time.

"Buoooooy!"

I turned around looking at eyes… any eyes… that would explain to me why. But not a soul would answer me. I looked once more at my Buoy! And blackness surrounded me. A cold and empty darkness! A darkness that gathered in my chest before I let out a silent painful sob that escalated into a monstrous howl… Dios ko…. Buoy… Buoy! Useless words! It would not make him live back. Then everything is gone again.

I came to with clothes torn and surrounded by military men. They were explaining things and the only word I heard was “… NPA” and an uncontrollable wail flowed out of me once more. I kicked, I scratched and bit anyone… anything I can! An uninvited howl came out to push away those words I don't comprehend: I don't believe. I stared at the military men and told them "No, he is noooooot! No! You murdered hiiiiimmm!" but no words came, just useless painful moan of a helpless mother came! And then blackness engulfed me once more. And in that deafening darkness, I lived. I will not come out! No more reason to. My Buoy is gone!

---
I now live alone. I have nothing now.

Gone is my Buoy. He is really Ricardo, 21 years old when he was shot. But he is Buoy to us, to me specially and he is not an NPA! Not until they came. He loves to sing and not kill! His voice may not be exactly like Rico Puno but he is Buoy’s favorite and never anyone called Ka Roger! Now, he sings out under the malungay tree out in the yard after dinner to lull himself to sleep no more! Yes he sings, but in silence now!