When Love Did Come

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Victory Liner slowed down, halted, the driver took a piss. Vendors passed corn, chicharon, macapuno, peanuts, and canned sodas through the window. No place to sit, hardly a place to stand. He stood for an hour now, sweat running down the curl of his spine, down his chest and face. It was scorching hot at one o'clock in the midafternoon. He usually rides on an air-conditioned bus, but he wanted to be back in the province so badly he settled for an ordinary one and didn't wait for the next aircon Olongapo express leaving for the next two hours. He's dead hungry so he chalked up three pieces of corn and a bottle of mineral water. The last piece dropped onto the floor as the bus zoomed off.

Wheels turning, engine pulling hard, running at ninety kilometers an hour through the outskirts of Lubao, Pampanga. Hanging on to the overhead luggage rack with one hand as the bus curved out of brown hills and into green ricefields, Rayel slid the picture of Jenny Pineda from his breast pocket, looking at it, ignoring the blistering heat. Wondering how she is, what she's doing. Hoping she's doing fine. It's been only a week, but it seemed like forever for Rayel. He wiped his sweat with his forearm.

Thirty minutes passed into the ride a seat opened up. He started for it, then noticed a pregnant woman off to one side. He pointed to the seat. She nodded in thanks and sat down. Soon after he felt a tug on his sleeve. An aeta couple had jammed against each other, leaving a corner of their seat for Rayel. He tossed his knapsack into the overhead rack and crouched on the space they'd created.

People in the fields working rice, trucks hauling loads of coco lumber down the country roads, birds flying alongside the bus for a short distance and then veering off. Rayel Capistrano stared again at the picture of Jenny.

A face looked over his shoulder. The aeta woman smiled and pointed at the photo of Jenny. "Very pretty. Nice lady?"

Rayel said she was very nice. The woman's husband heard them and immediately wanted to see the photograph. They handled it carefully and nodding, looking up at Rayel and smiling.

"Your lady?" the woman asked.

He'd never thought of her that way and paused before answering. Then he grinned --- "Maybe, I'm not sure" --- while the bus rolled on through the afternoon. Talk began and it was easy and nice. The couple were farmers going home from market. They asked simple questions and discovered Rayel's profession. Right away he was honored by the aeta man. "The greatest job," the man said smiling and nodding. Maybe he's right, Rayel thought. It's easy to lose perspective and become cynical when you're close to a profession or a person for decades. You start focusing on the ugly parts, forgetting the overall beauty of what's up close to you.

He suddenly remembered one of his talks with Jenny. She'd mentioned that whenever their past was brought up, she starts to think about its ugly parts, their quarrels and debates. All she could think of is how she hurt him and how he hurt her back. Rayel didn't agree on that. He said that, for him, whenever it was talked about, all he remembered were the nice times they've shared. How they crossed the street with him dragging her across and Jenny laughing and giggling all at the same time. How they hid the small pillow-like seat of jeepney number twenty-eight. The little and beautiful things about themselves. Jenny listened and never forgot about it. She knew Rayel was right.

Minutes later the couple bid goodbye and got off the bus. "See you, Professor Capistrano. Come by and visit us if you have time. You're most welcome."

"Thank you, Ka Bulik. I'll drop by some time." He smiled.

At about three o'clock he arrived at the Victory terminal in Olongapo City. He took a ten-minute tricycle ride to their house along the hills of barangay Gordon Heights. Upon arriving at their gate, the housemaid welcomed him and took his knapsack. She'd told him that his mother was in the library and was waiting for him. They had a big house. A three-storey white marble villa nestled in solitary majesty at the curves of a long hill, with the landscape of Olongapo spread grandly below.