MIONG: And the Sublime Paralytic

Paumanhin

It was, admittedly, regretably, and definitely his fault. The book Appy threw at him was okay, but the wall got a little dent that Miong would have to fix somehow. If it was his face, his innocent-looking handsome face, he would probably be unconscious until now.

“Good morning, Appy.” Miong said awkwardly, trying his best to sound normal, although it seems he does not usually greet goodmorning.

The young boy grumbled, steering his wheels away from the kitchen where Miong was, going straight to the living room to get his morning coffee. “So? Where’s my coffee?”

Miong scrambled through his closet immediately. He took the coffee beans, and as he was about to put hot water on the coffee maker, Appy grumbled again.

“I don’t like brewed barako coffee. You know that makes me palpitate, right?”

Miong’s eye twitched of irritation, but he tried to keep his composure. “Ah, I see. What do you want, then.”

“You know what I want!” Appy said, saying ‘hmp’ at the end.

Miong smiled sweetly, but there’s obvious irritation in his voice. “No, I actually don’t, dear.”

And with the word in the end of Miong’s sentence, Appy was taken aback. He finally steered his chair towards Miong’s direction. Angry. “What the fuck was that?”

“What? You’re acting like a spoiled wife, I’d rather treat you as one. Sweetheart.” The larger man smirked.

“Excuse me? First of all, I hate you. And second, stop that stupidity because if I’m really gonna end up marrying a guy, it wouldn’t be you.”

“What?” Miong acted like he was hurt. “Why not me? I’m smart, handsome, and thoughtful. I’m a perfect husband, darling.”

“I said stop!”

“Only if you tell me what you want to drink. And also if you forgive me.”

At that moment, Appy’s heart calmed down. It’s funny to think that Miong could play immature for a minor forgiveness, but he doesn’t want to give his forgiveness easily. He really was upset last night, at least he wants to make Miong suffer.

“You think I’ll forgive you just like that?” Appy followed, facing away from Miong.

Miong went to the living room and set down a mug of decaffeinated instant coffee with milk and sugar. Appy took it, gave it a blow, and tasted it.

“So you do know what I want.” Appy grumbled again, like usualy, then gave off a soft ‘hmp’ at the end.

Miong smiled at that.

Miong thought Appy is beginning to forgive him, until the said gremlin continued ordering him around like a slave, telling him to put this specific amount of salt in his egg, then to re-cook it because it got cold, then ordering him to put this specific amount of bathsoap in his bathtub with this specific amount of anti-bacterial soap. Also apparently, for this morning, Appy wanted to be dressed fully by Miong, unlike the other days when he wants to work by himself. It’s Saturday anyway, Miong has no classes so he can waste his time around Appy.

By 12 noon, Miong was exhausted.

Because of that, he carefully asked Appy to let him order for lunch rather than ask him to cook ‘this-specific-this-with-specific-that’. Appy agreed. He wouldn’t like to eat something that could have anger and rat pioson.

“After lunch, we’re going to the doctor.” Miong said as they eat their ordered lunch from Jollibee.

“Okay. Did the doctor said something about therapy?” Appy asked.

Miong halted from chewing. He looked at Appy straight in the eyes with a forlorn face. “No. Not that I can remember.”

“But, there’s gotta be something. Some bionic legs, maybe stem therapy, maybe… maybe something! Anything! What if we go there and the doctor says I would never walk again?” Appy’s eyes are watering, and so he swerved his vision towards the large window panels over-looking the city in hot Manila afternoon. It’s quite an ugly sight, but not as unbecoming as his anxiety.

“Then I’ll take care of you.”

Appy abruptly stared at Miong whose eyes are dead serious. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take care of you until we grow old and die. I take full responsibility.”

Appy could not believe what he’s hearing. He could not quite put what he should feel about that statement, when in fact, he’s bulshing like crazy. Why he’s blushing is a mystery, somehow. Maybe he’s embarrased for Miong for saying such sappy things in serious face, or maybe he’s embarrased because his heart skipped a beat.

“You fucktart.” Appy whispered to himself. “Okay now I want to take a nap first. Carry me from here to the bed. And I want to have waterbed in the living room by next week, and I have another typing job for you. And no, I don’t want you giving it to the net café downstairs. It’s private so you have to do it.”

“What? H-hey!”

“I’m sorry, did you say something about taking full responsibility?”

Miong grumbled, not able to say anything.

The hospital was suprisingly crowded. An hour ago, Appy’s doctor confirmed he was available by phonecall, but as they entered the hospital, the doctor called in busy, and thus, cannot accommodate them for a while.

They were about to get out of the hospital, but there’s something strange going on in the E.R. and Appy wants to know what it is.
As they pass through the E.R., Miong and Appy saw almost half a hundred of children being rushed inside, all shouting in immesurable pain. One little girl, about six, keeps shouting how she cannot see anything. The other little boy was clutching his stomach, saying there’s something punching him from the inside. They’re all wailing. It sound like hell filled with innocent young children not older than 10.

Appy cannot unsee everything. He can feel the pain, he can hear their cries. And on the very end of the E.R., he saw one bed of a child sleeping peacefully, the nurses covering a white blanket up to his face.

“What’s going on?” Appy asked to no one in particular.

[Paumahin = Sorry]