The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

18 : Retreat

November 2004

Kimberly

I stretch my arms above my head and let them fall to my sides as I look around.

The sky is still a bit cloudy. The roads are still wet. The leaves of the trees are starting to catch the first light of the morning. And the moisture on them from the rain earlier creates a glistening effect.

I hear a few birds, and I see a black one with white patches on its wings. It's not like the usual sparrows we always see back home. I like the thought that things are different around here.

We're in one of the pit stops of the Expressway, on the first and only restroom break before we arrive at the retreat house. The whole section wisdom is heading to the facility run by the same nuns of our school, for the traditional Seniors' retreat.

The retreat is a two-day activity for spiritual enrichment and personal development, whatever those mean. We always have those every year, but they were simply one-day events and done inside the school. For Grade Ten, though, we have to travel for three or so hours to the highland areas of this city southwest of the Metro.

Some of my classmates are hovering around the pit stop. Mandark is holding a cup of coffee and talking to Miss Valero while they walk their way back to the bus. Angel and Liane are engaged in a hushed conversation in a corner by the dim sum shop. A group of girls just walked out of a fast-food restaurant with hash browns in hand. The rest are still lining up for the restrooms.

The group of birds on the nearest tree starts flying off somewhere, and I no longer hear their sounds. The sun is starting to light up this part of the world amidst a few dark clouds. And as I observe the rest of my surroundings like I always do, I also feel that something or someone is looking at and watching me.

I go back inside the bus where the air-conditioning is on full blast. I'm wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a hoodie jacket, but I still feel cold even with the zippers up. My seat is on the third row, on the left side, and right by the window. And of course, no one is sitting next to me.

I stop in the middle of the aisle. I hide my hands in the pockets of my hoodie as I catch Benjamin on the supposed unoccupied seat, slouching and blocking my way with his legs.

"It's boring back there," he says. Then he straightens up and moves his legs to the side, so I can sit down.

"What makes you think it's less boring here?" I ask him once I'm seated and I've placed my bag on my lap.

He slouches back and doesn't answer. But from the corner of my eye, I can see a small smile forming on his face.

He opens the pack of Oreos he's holding and offers me the first piece. I take one even though I'm not hungry, simply because I can't resist my favorite cookie. Out of the habit I formed after what Kathlyn did earlier this year, I twist the cookie first and inspect its cream before taking a bite.

"Happy birthday, by the way," he says without looking at me.

I wait until I finish chewing before I turn my head and face him, completely surprised that he knows when my birthday is.

"Thanks."

I'm also surprised at myself that I no longer stutter around him.

"How did you know?" I ask.

"I have a good memory," he says as if that explains everything.

**

I turned sixteen earlier this week. And if I live in some other part of the world, I would have festively celebrated it like a milestone, considering that I was also born on the thirty-first of October. Well, my parents cooked their traditional birthday spaghetti, and my brother grilled a piece of pork belly, so there was that for celebration. They greeted me with a happy birthday in their usual voices, dull but domineering. Then I spent the rest of the day in my room, reading an old John Grisham novel.