Toto and the Boys I: Jackie

Chapter 1

A lot of things happen inside a car or any types of vehicle. I, for one, have a lot of stories to fill your nights and I would start with my three girls, or boys as what most people called them.

Why don’t we start with Jackie?

But before you continue reading this story, let me clarify one thing. You may notice that I would disappear from time to time because I would give you the honor of having a glimpse of things from the point of view of the girls. Whenever they are in the bathroom, in a restaurant, in the ambulance, in the office, in church, or wherever it is I cannot possibly grace with my presence, you will get their point of view.

Now that’s settled, let’s continue…

People called them BOYS because their names sounded masculine. 

Jackie, or Jaquilou Marie Ramos, for one didn’t like it when people called them collectively as the boys. She was too feminine to be called a boy. Sometimes, I even wondered how she ended up with George and Dannie. You could never picture her doing the adventurous things as George and she was not as saintly as Dannie either. In fact, the three of them were very different and it was a wonder how they even became friends.

Today, Jackie was driving me. She drove me every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

“Can you go any faster? I’m going to be late,” George told her and I felt Jackie’s hand tighten around my wheel.

“Calm down, George,” she uttered, stepping on my gas a little deeper. She was not a very good driver, I tell you. I could feel her sharp stilettos against my floorboard and they were shaking. I knew Jackie needed her caffeine.

But she had to get through the traffic first. Though Bacolod didn’t have heavy traffic all the time, the jeepney drivers were reckless and Jackie didn’t like them.

“Hey!” both Jackie and George shouted when a motorcycle did a sharp overtake. And yes, they didn’t like motorcycles either.

“Calm down, please,” Dannie uttered at the backseat.

“Moron!” George shouted, not hearing her friend. Poor Dannie, she was way too soft-spoken to be heard.

“Where are you going?” George asked Jackie when she guided me to the side of the road.

“Just a quick coffee, please,” Jackie begged.

Her friends groaned. I, on the other hand, agreed with a silent hum. The last time Jackie forgot her cup of coffee, she was nearly clawing at my new leather seat covers.

“Make it fast,” George groaned, looking at her watch.

Jackie climbed out and jogged her way inside Bob’s Café in her office attire of white collared shirt, gray blazer, skirt and black stilettos. When she reappeared, she was holding three cups of coffee. “Okay, I’m good to go.” She uttered as she handed George their cups. Though Dannie didn’t drink as much coffee as the other two, she took her cup and sipped it quietly.

“I can’t believe what happened last night,” George said a while later when Jackie finally turned the corner to where the headquarters of The Philippine Red Cross was located. I was all ears for the story of last night. I didn’t get to witness the scene, but I heard other cars from the parking lot talking about it.

“Please, you’re not talking about that drunk patient again, are you?” asked Jackie. “You should have slapped that old man’s face.”

“Loca, I’m talking about your suitor,” George uttered. “You know, the one who stood outside the apartment singing? Were you able to sleep at all, Dannie?”