It was he running out the door sobbing and scared. Having tripped on a tree stump, he fell kissing the ground. He got up and ran again for all his life’s worth. I watched him intently as tears rolled from his fearful eyes to his muddy cheeks. I saw the fulfillment of a gloomy artwork on his distorted face. I know him. I’ve always had.
He looked back at the house where they’ve met him for the rites of passage. I called it the Grey House. The family dwelling in it was executed during the Japanese occupation, except the wife who suffered the fate of being a comfort woman. Since then, the house started to turn grey – and so were the people entering its doors. Luke was the last one.
He was fresh out of high school. Having graduated with a handful of scholastic achievements, he set out to fulfill his dream in the university. A loner but an extrovert, his aloneness could be just the result of having standards of thought and behavior that doesn’t conform to the crowd. Being that, he is also lured to the idea of comradeship. Such standards and weakness was put to the test when he met a man named Jay.
I remember Jay when he first approached Luke because he thought he was a genius and extremely talented. Luke looked at him with disdain but later on found him attracted to the idea of a brotherhood.
Jay was the hood’s lead man, the certified girl magnet, and the varsity’s ace basketball player. Though sometimes an airhead, he exercises charm irresistible to men and women alike. He made Luke an offer so hard to refuse: a guaranteed status in a comrade circle.
Luke accepted Jay’s invitation not just because status appealed to him but also because of a love he has for one woman: Sam. The hood’s muse and strategist, she caught Luke’s attention as she waved hi to Jay and finally his heart when she flashed him a sweet smile. It was undeniable: the attraction was mutual. Sam’s just 17 but was disappointingly hooked to the bone because she is Abel’s girl.
I remember Abel as a rival. He’s often called the hood’s wizard because of his intelligence. He shot Luke a sarcastic glance. Luke was undeterred. Because he is good at competition, he knew better so he winked at Sam in response to Abel’s eyes. Abel was mad more than ever but he can’t touch Luke knowing Jay will definitely call him off from the hood. Here’s the principle: nobody belongs to anybody.
Of all the expected members of the hood, Stan was not on Luke’s list. But Luke, being a newbie, is yet to be acquainted to his childhood friend when the former has his survival pitted to be over. Stan was the hood’s challenger. At 6’ 2 and a hulky body, he can literally throw you out of the classroom. But this strength he has is unfortunately complemented by his weakness in English. In Mathematics. In Everything.
I remember the others too. They’re men and women of distinct families and money. They mine the drag racing gamble and the rave parties on the streets. They have everything but a human heart. They watched a Luke coiled himself. They were quiet when he screamed. They stayed cool while he was in agony.
At the Grey House that day, Luke stood. At the center of the room, he saw darkness. His eyes were covered. When everything’s ready, Stan tapped him on the shoulders and began the raw paddle and flesh ignition.
At the first solid blow, the paddle fell – and so did Luke. He coiled, screamed and groped the darkness. Sam screamed. Luke began to run.
I remember myself running out of the Grey House, falling on the mud and running again. I remember myself turning to the dark alley and hiding between the trash bins. My leg hurts and so was my head. I was trembling and let out a shriek when I saw my bloody hands. Then I saw them: Jay, Abel, Stan and the others running away from the Grey House. Sam! She was not with them!
I ran back to the house where Sam was screaming. I ran as fast and reached the door in no time. There was Sam – the lady of my life, the same lady whom I made love last night – holding me in her arms and calling my name.
I made it – almost. For a love gone blind, a principle weak at the roots, a distorted credence and the allure of a misdirected comradeship, I made my epitaph so early to get completed:
In Memory of
Luke
Lost. Ruined. Gone.
February 13, 1985 – November 30, 2006
Thank you, Johannes Plenio, for the featured image.