Wind (a novel)

Emails

We grew up together.

I knew what made him smile, and he knew what made me cry. We were like macaroni and cheese. I always thought we will forever be together. I could not remember a time in my childhood when he wasn't around. But as all young people in small, old-fashioned towns like Subic dreamed of, he left, chose for himself, explored the world and all that it seems to offer.

We were only sixteen when Paulo went away and many years had passed with no news of him. He was the type of boy who always wanted to play it safe. His choices were always calculated, so it surprised me why he took that big of a risk. I learned from his mom that he went to Manila to attend college, and I hadn't heard from him since then.

Until one day I received his email. It was surprising how he found out about my email address as we had not been communicating for a long time. However, I learned that he got it from one of our common childhood friends after they accidentally bumped into each other in Liloan, which is a large municipality in Cebu where he lived now. But was it really an accident?

After I responded, it was then when we began this series of emails where we talked about anything and everything, from our mundane daily rituals, what we had for lunch, to our current struggles about living life. We shared a few of our latest poems, and we enjoyed dissecting each one as if we were one another's editors.

He sometimes told me stories of himself, some of his experiences and discoveries. He would also send me photos, and I would sometimes be envious of those taken from so many places around the country. One thing I noticed, though: He sounded so different now; it was as if he knew everything.

I was waiting for him to tell me something about a woman he loved, or a family of his own, and kept on waiting for pictures where he might be with his special someone or maybe his kids. But there were none. The pictures implied he was still single, but I thought perhaps he just did not want me to know about that part of his life yet.

Some of his emails spoke of God. It was clear to me that he had grown to love God and the Bible, something that I cannot fully grasp in my head. How could someone have that fanatic belief about myths and stories written just to keep society in check? I always skipped those parts when he talked about his religious views.

In one, he wrote about wanting to pastor a church and dedicate his life to taking care of less fortunate families in a small barangay there. I wrote back, asking him to wait a bit, urging him to experience more of the freedom of his singlehood before committing himself to something so serious.

But I deleted my letter after re-reading it. Who was I to speak about freedom and commitment? Compared to him, I felt like I knew nothing of such things.

In my life, I have been in a relationship five different times. One of them I admit I loved, while the others were just to play in bed. I was a working student during college, and I met all my boyfriends in the fast food chain where I worked. After years of exploring love-making, I decided to stay single. They were these blah relationships where I gave no commitment and felt no commitment. Back then, I just wanted to have someone to keep me warm when it became cold.

It is funny but I felt like we have really grown apart, physically, mentally, and belief-wise. Our current lifestyles were night and day, and so I'm amazed he would still think about me. Much more, send me emails after all this time.

Also in his emails, I found out that Paulo had become a published author, and that he already had written seven books on spirituality, self-discovery, and personal change. He had also become an inspirational speaker and had begun to give lectures and seminars. This again surprised me; I thought he was too young to be able to teach anything to anyone.

And then one day, I received an invitation to come to Cebu, saying that he was going to speak to a small group in a convention center in the heart of the city. He said he really wanted me to be there.

So, from my home in Subic, I traveled three hours by bus to Manila and took the 45-minute plane ride to Mactan International Airport. I had planned to be there for only a day, an overnight stay, my flight back was early the next morning. I knew no one in Cebu, nor did I expect anyone to know me, so why linger? I just wanted to see him again; I wanted to hear his voice. I just wanted to sit with him in a café for a couple of hours and talk about and remember the old days. When all we needed and wanted was just each other.

θ θ θ

"Paulo! Look, I could see uncle's church down the hill from here."

"Will you please get down from there, Annie? You might get hurt! Don't let me call your uncle again!"

"Come on! Just a couple more minutes, please? I promise we'll be home before sunset."

As she fiddled with a short branch while looking at the small countryside church down the valley, she lost her footing... she fell... but landed on Paulo's arms.

"See? I told you." He said.

"Thank you." She dropped her eyes and then set them on him, a full three seconds as he gently put her down on the summer grass.

Her head was still on his lap when he looked back. "I'll always look after you. We're best friends, remember?"

"Yes, I know," she said playfully then bit him on the arm.

"Aw! You always do that. What is it about my arm?" He rubbed the bitten limb as both of them laughed.

They spent the next half hour shoulder-to-shoulder, sitting next to one another, laughing and talking, and watching the sunset as birds hurried back to their nests and the country winds blew by their faces. Below the hill, the whole town seemed to fit in their young hands. They talked and talked – about wishes and dreams, family and friends, the excitement, and the wonderful clean slate of the teenage years.

Maya birds embellished the purple-orange sky while clouds slowly covered the setting sun. Shadows crawled away from the waving grass and then skimmed what was written on the bark of the age-old mango tree. Etched were two names – Paulo and Annie – and below them read – "Better together."