Heaven On Fire

Thirty Three

I PULLED ON my white tweed coat and shook on my shoulders beneath it, letting it settle. I had spent the day doing shopping and buying some goods for Saoirse and I. David let me had his card for whatever I want. I was wondering, ano kayang magiging kapalit nito?

"Do you want to go outside?" David said. "It's so nice this time of day."

I nodded speechlessly. How much time had passed since we are thrown away by my own husband? How long before Hubert would come back for me? I could still taste blood in my mouth when I got a slap from Benjamin, and sharp pain came over me in waves; one minute I was neutral, the next minute everything ached, physically and emotionally. But here I was, walking down with a friend that I haven't met since last year.

"David," I finally mumbled. "Yung totoo?"

"Ha? Anong totoo?"

I cleared my throat.

"Ano bang kapalit lahat ng pagtulong mo?"

"What do you mean," David said.

I looked at him with meaning.

"This. Itong pagtulong mo," I said. He looked up at the sky.

"You know, that night that I helped you, it was an accident. A perfect accident. It was late, you and Saoirse was there in the rain, remember? Actually, I came here in Michigan for you. Right before I was going to send you a message for us to meet once again, you were there right in front of me and I didn't want to miss it."

"Really? For what?" I mumbled.

"I wanna see you. Can you imagine that? Such a freak accident. You'd think if I helped you I need you to do something for me, actually you were right to say that. Ah, well, everything happens for a reason anyway,"

He looked at me with evil eyes.

"I want to take my revenge against your husband's family."

We took a few more steps. My forehead pounded. I rubbed it with scarf in my hand.

"What happened, Loren? Are you okay?"

The question was so simple, it was impossible to answer. An I okay? Where should I begin? With my past? The death of my brother? The betrayal of Benjamin? The slap? My marriage? When was I okay, really?

"I haven't been so good right now, Dave," I said.

We stopped on walking. "You know, let's go back to the house. It's getting colder anyway."

*****

"CAN'T YOU VISIT YOUR BROTHER'S FUNERAL?" my mother asked over the phone.

David's mother was standing over the range, scrambling eggs with a Thai spatula. Toast had already been popped, and a butter sat on the table. A pot of coffee was alongside it. She had tied an apron around her waist and cooking us a snack for middle afternoon bunch.

"Can't you, Loren?" she said. "We're about to buried him tomorrow."

I heard the sizzling of butter and eggs.

"Loren?" Mommy said. "Why so quiet?"

It took a few seconds to find my voice, as if I were remembering instructions on how to do it. How could I do that? Is there another set of words? A secret code for my mom to just got a hint that I am not okay? That I was calling in an unknown phone number?

"Mom," I finally whispered on the other side of the line before ending the call. "Let me call you with this number later."

David's mom scooped the eggs from the pan and chop-chop-chopped them on my plate. I watched her flawless hands work the spatula.