Malik
I chuckled as I walked away.
I'm glad to see she's better. I was just getting out of the hospital with a self-limiting virus when she was confined. Our lives had always been like this — parallel to each other, almost the same things happening to each of us.
Even if I always annoy her, I am protective of her. I never had a sister and my younger brother was born much later when I was already in high school.
As children, we were the youngest ones on our street when we were about five, and some of the girls ganged up on her and didn't want to include her in their games. "You're panget. And why is your hair like that?!"
Sari's mother indulged her only daughter, and that time Sari wanted to have colorful hair. So, they dyed it with all the colors of the rainbow.
Little Sari ran off crying and I stepped in saying, "Her hair is nice! It looks like a unicorn!"
Of course, the group of girls teased me then. "Uuuuy! May crush si Malik kay Sari! Yihee!"
"I order you to stop!" I commanded. My parents always told me that I was such a bossy child that I sometimes acted like a king and I would retort, "I AM a king, Mama."
Later on, when we discussed Philippine Mythology in school and we learned about this fictional colorful bird was when I started calling her "Sarimanok."
"Ugh! You're soooo annoying, Malik!" She complained.
"You're soooo annoying, Malik!" I mimicked.
There were times when we'd have "battles" because our houses were beside each other and the wall separating them wasn't really a wall but a thick bush.
When she'd get mad at some prank I pulled on her (like dyeing the hair of her troll dolls jet black — which she hated), she retaliated by throwing water balloons across the bush, when she knew I was taking a nap on the grass.
In high school, we were lab partners in Biology when I scared her by getting the biggest frog for our experiment and let her handle getting the frog out of the container.
She kept screaming that I warned, "Sige pa. Sigaw pa. Tatalon yan derecho sa bibig mo."
I fell on the floor laughing at her face as she tried to scream with her mouth closed.
That night, I woke up to sounds of tapping on my balcony door and when I opened the curtains, a few of Sari's porcelain dolls were looking at me. I'm terrified of those buggers.
In high school, Sari outted me to my mom that she caught me and my first girlfriend kissing in one corner of the garden. "They hang out there a lot, Tita! A LOT. Sila lang and suuuupppperrrrrrr long."
When she and her boyfriend were having a moment, which I saw from my room, I promptly threw water balloons down to ruin it.
(Yes, we've both stocked water balloons in case the need arises. Yes, even now.)
I hated seeing her cry though.
When her first boyfriend broke up with her, I heard her crying from the garden.
I was having a quick snack when I heard her come out pleading, "Ganun na lang? Break up over the phone?!" Then, a few minutes later, she started sobbing.
I looked up at the sky and asked loudly, "Bakit kaya niya iniiyakan yun? Walang kwenta naman yung boypren niya."
Sari responded from the other side. "Pwede ba? Wag kang makialam?"
"Aba! Bakit may batas ba na nagsasabing bawal? Wala! Kaya makikialam ako. Pwede ka namang hindi sumagot."
"Lumayas ka nga!"
I chuckled. "Excuse me, Sarimanok! Nandito ako sa bahay namin. Anyway, pwede ba wag kang makialam. Kausap ko pa yung clouds. Sabat ng sabat eh."
"Nakakairita ka talaga!"
I ignored her and continued to talk to the sky. "Sana po, wag na niyang iyakan yun. Hindi naman mabait yung boypren niya. Lagi na lang siyang pinapaiyak. At saka, atin atin lang... mukhang hindi naliligo. Baka mahawa pa siya sa kuto nun."
I could swear I heard a giggle.
"Pero hindi po ito yung kapitbahay kong assuming ha? Pero alagaan niyo na din po siya... kasi... ewan ko. Kawawa naman."
I could swear Sari growled. "Bwiset ka talaga!"
