𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃

Chapter 2

Besides starting a fire, I think the only thing I know how to do is heat a dish in the microwave. But come to think of it, it's too early not to learn, to be careless, and by being alone, only then will I enjoy the freedom to discover what I can do, not just in housework, but not even in life as well.
 
It was still slightly earlier when I went to school, so I ended up taking a stroll around the campus, which was, of course, pretty cool. It's pleasant for the sense of sight. All but my chest is clamoring for the fresh start I already have. It's not even like middle school anymore, where you know everyone and gets along because you're neighbors. They don't know who I am, and I don't know who they are, so I tried to keep my distance and remain silent for as long as I could.

My senses were still getting used to what I was seeing when classes began. Some of the students were friends, having to borrow each other's stuff and welcoming each with a smile. Having to think I was alone, I was satisfied to observe from the outskirts, which is perfectly alright with me. Everything is just going to be fine.

College, is the school for all sorts of dream pursuers, and I'm already one of them. I'm just a freshman, but it looks like I won't be able to be mischievous and reprimanded if I want to be lucky in my life, especially tomorrow. I doubt if I will fall in love with someone here, the type I will marry and build a family with. What can happen to me here? I'm far away from us. I don't know anyone. What will be my fate in the first step toward realizing my dream? I thought to myself.

All of the basketball team's students were gathered in the late afternoon. My day-ruining expectation also showed up at the same time. The "bullies" on the first day of tryouts have made it seem as though I had been progressive in the morning, I'll be a wilted vegetable when I get home. Some of them struck freshmen like me, who were unfamiliar with the school's goings-on when they collided with us, the newcomers. We were busy picking up and placing the balls back in their proper containers repeatedly until our coach arrived, while they scattered the balls they shouldn't touch. We then introduced ourselves to the higher levels one by one, especially to our team captain leading the bullies, so I became even more cautious.

I had the chance to explore the city and look for a place to apply for a job. I must have lost my way everywhere before I found a pet store where the owner was looking for a part-time employee to help with caring for the animals it sells. Since we didn't even have a dog at home, I tried my luck at persuading the owner to hire me as his assistant even though I didn't particularly have the ability to take care of animals. Rather than complaining, I immediately accepted the challenge, especially after learning that the shop's owner was a fellow Filipino who instantly understood my predicament.

The man explained to me that he had lived in America for a long time and that, as an ex-pat who had built a business abroad, he had made numerous sacrifices and needed to be rewarded for what he had achieved in life. However, given the difficulty of the business, he had also encountered suffering in his personal life and needed to save money. "How long have you been here, Mike? That's awesome that you did think of searching for a job even if you were taking courses—because I'm also short-staffed. I can't afford to pay my employees the large amount they need. You know, I also need to send money to the Philippines." His emotional pain is apparent to me, particularly because he is currently overseas. I genuinely think it's only now that I fully understand what Mama used to tell me about the first time she moved abroad with Dad. I could not help but utter a word to him. "It's been a week since I left home. I left Mama and my siblings in Wales—but they are now in the Philippines because my granddad just passed away. I can't even go home because school has just started." We felt comfortable on my first working day. I presume that the path I have chosen will not hold any difficulties for me. I just wish it would go on. Let's just hope, maybe.

When I have free time at the shop, my boss and I often converse. He once mentioned to me that he hadn't visited his native country in a long time because he couldn't support his parents after his father passed away. "My dad and I didn't resolve our last misunderstanding; he passed away without both of us on speaking terms, but it's not necessary to pressure yourself to be around the people you love when you're trying to start something new for yourself. Because no matter where they are in the world, or the afterlife, they will understand that you need to move forward in life, discover what will bring you happiness, and strengthen yourself in tough situations. I know in my heart what my boss is saying, and I think I've been through all that, especially with Dad, and I'm happy with my life being with the people I love, but I suddenly realized, what about me and my real father? I don't remember anything that we did together. If there's anything, I don't remember any of it at all.

When will the day come when we will both cross paths? Is it necessary for me to know what has happened to him? My emotions are clouded and distorted. The right moment may not appear for us at that point, and if it does, there may be little chance for us to develop a strong father-son relationship.

I grew to acknowledge Dad Robert as my biological father, and I even had our family's photograph on me. Particularly when I was younger, because of how well we got along and how much we always cherished each other's company, and even more so with the pictures he only left us. Pictures of memories from when I was in school. I just thought that in these pictures, now that I'm old, I only desire one thing, and that is to meet my real father.

I'm not even familiar with his name or the narrative involving the two of them. I'm aware that Mama had a purpose for never once, ever bringing him up in conversation with me. She can see that I am content with Dad and appreciate the new life he brought us. I don't want her to return to the past, where I have a bad sense that screaming in full rage is the only aftereffect.

That evening, I couldn't sleep because of my thoughts after my boss and I talked about our "fathers" and the country we haven't visited in a long time. I was still young when Dad disappeared, and my mother was tight-lipped about the past, especially mine. What do I have to do? Ask for a sign? Because I feel like I have to go in a different direction, and now I'm still here in the same place, with my personality still incomplete.

My recent lack of motivation made my situation at school less productive, especially in the game I'm struggling to win, up until I reached the pet store. My tired, swollen eyes caught my boss's attention. "I told you to just take a taxi, but you didn't. What happened to you? Did you get assaulted on the road last night?" I still have questions that, despite what he said, won't go away ever since we mentioned briefly our fathers. I asked my boss, but he didn't answer me right away. I think he's now wondering if it is possible because I told him how long it had been since Mama hadn't told me about my biological father, but he still took the initiative to offer his advice, saying, "Search for him if that'll give you peace of mind—do not be like me, who passed all chances and threw away the hope of being with my father." I felt a little stronger today when my boss told me what to do, but it didn't end there he continued, "Risk the possibility now that you still have the chance to get to know your father, but don't forget to honor the sacrifices your mother made."

While I was at school and busy with my obligations as a student and on the basketball team. I still couldn't get everything out of my mind and it caused a serious disturbance to my work, so I decided to call home to get it out of me, the questions that bother me, and so that Mama and I can talk about things that she has been avoiding for a long time. It took a long time for Mama to answer the phone. That's new to me. I don't know if she got busier after my grandpa died. I didn't stop dialing, even though my allowance was used up for the amount to be paid for a long-distance call, but then I just found out that the three of them were still in the Philippines.