The Time Capsule

Chapter 2

"When I'm with him, I forget the dreams I was taught to reach for because he teaches me how to give things a second glance and realize they are what I needed after all."

- From Corazon's Diary

"We are now leaving Silay city," Yaya Sana explained after we passed through different ancient Spanish houses.

Merely a few minutes later, she spoke again. "This is Talisay. It's a small city, but it's nice." I looked out the window. She bet it was small. It took us only five minutes to drive through it before we reached Bacolod.

To give Bacolod credit, there were a lot of green fields, one that you could no longer find in Makati. And their roads were wide—I give them that.

"This is Robinson's Mall." Yaya Sana pointed to the right.

I just nodded. It was probably the second biggest structure I saw since we started our drive. Yes, there were no buildings taller than fifteen floors which was a BPO building right before we passed the mall. I checked my watch. It was eight in the morning.

"Where's the traffic?" I asked.

"You won't find it here," Erik answered in Tagalog. He said it with that same Hiligaynon tone. I did not bother telling him he could freely speak his native tongue. "Here in Bacolod, the jeepneys fight over commuters."

"That's a joke, right?" I asked Yaya Sana.

She shook her head and laughed.

In Makati, I often see people lining up for a jeepney ride, a common public transport in the Philippines.

"This is what I miss the most in Bacolod," my father spoke for the first time after he climbed on the passenger side.

"And is one of the reasons why I never left," Erik told him. "I heard you're into the food industry, sir," he said, an obvious conversation starter.

I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that several times when common people wanted to talk to my father, hoping for a chance to be showered with his generosity.

It was surprising though that he knew a lot about the business.

"Stephanie actually has a chain of coffee shops around Manila," my dad said with pride.

"Really?" Erik glanced at me through the rearview mirror. I did not answer but I did look away. His interested gaze bothered me.

"It's sad you never knew your Wawa," Yaya Sana said to me in a whisper.

"Yeah," I said, not certain if I agreed or not.

"She was a good lady despite everything. If there's one wrong I have to point out, it's her pride. She was one, big proud woman." She turned to give me a meaningful smile. "You got that trait from her, you know."

Ignoring her last statement, I said in a low voice, "I heard you talked to her often." My father was deep in conversation with the driver.

Yaya Sana looked at me with guilt. "Yes. She would pretend to call to ask about petty things and in passing she would asked after you. I asked her many times if she wanted me to hand the phone over to you, especially after your mother passed away but she wouldn't. She never said it, but I sensed she was afraid you hated her for not seeing you before."

"She should've at least tried," I said with bitterness. I never had pictures taken with her, never had the chance to actually use the name 'Wawa' to call her, never had that normal childhood spoiled by my own grandparents.