Paper Planes

Kabanata 30

KABANATA 30

"Switch, you're leaving again? But you just got here..."

"I got a call from one of our mines in Africa. There's been another accident. I need to look into this..."

"Surely, there's someone among the people who works under you who can do that? Your daughter's been looking forward to spending time with you. It's been so long since you last came to see her."

A sigh.

"I know but this is important for the empire, Mother. And I'm doing this for her, too. So she could have a comfortable future—"

"But how about her 'now'?"

No response.

"Switch, she's a wonderful child. She's very intelligent and one who is way beyond her years. But, Son, she's just two years old. And right now all she ever needs is a father by her side, to be with her, to talk to her, hold her... love her."

He clears his throat.

"I understand your point, Mother, but please understand that I am also a very busy man. The empire needs me—"

"Your daughter needs you, too!"

For a few seconds, nobody said anything.

"What's happening to you, my son? I understand that until now, you haven't forgotten about your dear Cher—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Mother. I'm leaving now."

"But Switch—"

"Papa?"

Both quickly turned towards the direction of the little girl, still in her pyjamas and a stuffed toy in hand, the one her father gave her a month ago, sleepily crumpling her eyes.

"Arianne, angel, why are you still awake?" The older woman asked in concern as she walked towards her.

The little girl maintained her blue eyes to the man who's holding a suitcase in one hand and the other to the door. When she realized what was happening, her eyes turned glassy.

"Are you leaving, Papa?"

The man didn't respond. He stared at her face for a moment and just like always, he couldn't help but remember an older version of that same features with different set of eyes. And like always, he would look away.

"Yes," he croaked and immediately cleared his throat, "Papa still has work to do..." Is all he could manage to say without looking at her.

The little girl's chest constricted at his words. She opened her mouth to tell him she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to show him how good she plays the piano. She wanted him to see the many canvases she painted with different colors. Her favorite was the one where she painted a big house with a crooked pictures of her Papa and her Mama holding her hand. She wanted to show him this but she also understood the important role her father held. So she closed her mouth, held her tears and mustered a smile.

"Itterasshai, Papa."

I woke and for a few minutes remained still as I stared at the unfinished painting on my ceiling. Matagal na noong huli kong napanaginipan si Papa. Tulad noon, sumisikip pa rin ang dibdib ko sa tuwing nakikita ko ang pag-iwas ng kanyang paningin.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Napamulat lang muli nang marinig ang marahang pagkatok mula sa labas ng aking silid.

"Lady Aya, gising na po ba kayo?" Si Kuya Milo.