Kamusmusan: Childhood

The most beautiful wallflower

“High school life is not the best part of life…”

“You said it.”

The swing creaks from my weight like little grunts and complains. This is my favorite hang out in the school, at the abandoned swing behind the senior’s rooms.  It was unwanted and unneeded and it was our sanctuary.

The old and rickety swing is facing the wall, the school boundary.  The wall was a constant victim of vandalism, a remnant of the past wallflowers  who also found solace in the hidden playground.

Beyond the wall is a small farm, so there are times the place smells like goat and cow dirt.

I kicked the wall lightly to boost my sway.

“They say high school is the best part of life because it’s when most teenagers engage in boyfriend girl friend stuff. But what about people who aren’t interested in love or courtship or shallow relationships?”

I nod. There was no need to comment on what she said. It’ like she was reading my mind.

“I have a new story.” I say.

“Let’s hear it.”       

I wasn’t a writer. This was a time when I was just a storyteller.  

Most of my make up stories in the past are about the adventures of Hermes, the messenger of Gods, as he fell deeply in love with a mortal. Bethel loved to hear them, the way she squeals at the romance I created, how she begs for more when a chapter ended.

At times, during lazy school days I would doodle at the back of my notebook, the characters in my made up story, chibi versions of my friends and daisies and roses and flowers and flowers.

Bethel would ask for my drawings, though they weren’t my best works or skilfully drawn. She kept them in her plastic envelope, along with my other drawings, test papers, pencil shavings and ripped pages from her notebook, incomplete coloring pencils and copies of song lyrics.

Yes, bethel was messy, her shoulder-length hair matted, dishevelled appearance, mismatched socks. Her smiles are goofy, like she needs more practice in front of the mirror. Have you ever seen kind eyes? Those are her eyes.

I loved her, and she was one of the most beautiful creature I met.

On our first week as sophomores, Bethel didn’t show up. She rarely attended classes, which made it harder for her to make friends. We were both introverts, but she was a wallflower that never bloomed for anyone but me.

So I avoided her. I simply watched her stare at her table from a distance. I thought it was the only way to force her into having friends.

And even though I kept distance, I still look out for her. Introducing her to my new friends, making excuses for teachers when she’s absent on an important school day, finding her a partner in group activities, eating beside her during recess, but we never spoke a word to each other.

I never made up another story.

I thought it was the worst way for a friendship to end. You just stop talking to each other until all your good memories fade.

I was wrong.

Saturday morning, I found my cellphone lying on my bed, but I slept on my parent’s room.

There were three missed calls and one message.

Patay na si Bethel pakisabi sa mam mo.

“Tell your teacher Bethel passed away.”

It was a small funeral. Her relatives referred to me as, “Bestfriend ni Bethel” (Bethel’s best friend). Her mother told me that her last wish was to talk to me and hope that I would never forget her.

Missed calls. Missed chances.

 Our classmates are with me and since they never really knew Bethel, they were just happy to have an excuse to skip class. They even started spreading rumors that her ghost is lingering in our wash room. Some said they were haunted by her. Some even started making jokes like,

“Nasa likod mo siya!” (She’s right behind you!)

“Tara gawa kayo ng quija board kausapin natin sya” (Let’s make a quija board and talk to her.)

I just clenched my fists, stayed quite on my chair and whispered swears and curses. But I couldn’t say them out loud.

“Mga putangina kayo…”

But Bethel was an angel even before she passed way.

 During her memorial service, a guy was sitting on a stool beside her coffin. His eyes red and swollen. You can tell the emotional torture he was undergoing just by looking at him.

I thought he was her brother that she mentioned once, but it turns out Bethel found romance after all. The guy was a janitor in the hospital where she was confined for 4 days. In those 4 days, the guy was her only confidant. In those 4 days, she found unconditional love. In less than 4 days, the guy fell for my messy bestfriend.

I loved her, the guy loved her, because she was worth loving.

She was one of the most beautiful creature I met. And my most beautiful regret.

***

Bethel Joy passed away on August 21, 2010.

Gone but not forgotten...

I hope you learned something from my mistake