Summer Memory

Chapter 1

            My friends and I decided to spend that particularly cool summer day together. It was a day I looked forward to – my friends since high school have been my safe haven. To me, their value went farther than just the standard ‘barkada’; they were like the siblings I never had.

            (Translator’s Note: Barkada means ‘a large group of friends’)

            Jane, our group’s leader, decided to have a resort getaway. A lot of us didn’t respond quickly, so our plans of going to some posh resort were dashed, and the twenty-plus people that got together on the day itself decided to have a barbeque cookout and grill at Kim’s place instead.

            We bought the ingredients and other necessary equipment at the nearest supermarket. Each of us contributed to buy everything we needed.

            Kim led us to a residential suite (which consisted of the whole floor) in their company building. Kim’s mom was delighted at our last-minute cook-out plan, and without any hint of trepidation, handed us the keys to the residential suite and access to the roof deck.

            Lunch with my friends was awesome. There was the usual slap-stick comedy between our class jokers, and of course, the never-ending story-telling of our experiences in college life.

            We hung outside on the roof deck to chill and just lay back. They were all busy chatting away to each other when I excused myself to go back downstairs to the residential suite.

            As I entered the suite, I was greeted by the cool air generated by the air conditioning unit left on before we headed for the roof deck. I allowed myself to flop down on one of the comfy lounge chairs in the living room, putting my aching feet up on the foot rest. I surveyed the entire suite from my position.

            Our bags were all left in the living room, the groceries on the island table near the kitchen, and the unwashed dirty plates and utensils were stacked high on the kitchen counter, waiting to be taken care of. I sighed inwardly.

            ‘This is what I’m for’ I silently thought, ‘to clean up after the mess’ I walked towards the kitchen counter, grabbed a sponge and some dishwashing liquid, and got to scrubbing the dishes.

            I let my thoughts wander as I did the dishes. I thought about a lot of things, like how much time changed our group, how we stayed close despite the distances between us, and then, Liza. However, a certain peculiar memory from last March flashed in my mind, and I was left to wash the dishes in the latent avenues of my memory…