Sometime In July (2024 edition)

Chapter Ten

Later that evening, Seth caught the last bus to Ternate, Cavite, arriving a little after midnight. As he stepped into the house, he saw Tata Guring asleep on the living room couch, but he didn't have the heart to wake him. Just as he was about to head to his room, Tata Juancho emerged from the bathroom and greeted him briefly before Seth retreated to his room.

Lying in bed, Seth couldn't escape the thoughts racing through his mind. The events of the day played on a loop, refusing to let him rest. He switched off the lamp on his bedside table, and once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he gazed through the gap in the curtains.

Moonlight spilled onto his bed, and for a moment, he imagined Kristina's face smiling at him, like she always did. The memory soothed him, and as he stared at the soft light, his body finally relaxed, his eyes drifting closed.

* * *

The house, built in 1936, stood as a testament to history. Originally owned by a Spanish businessman who befriended his father, it had become their family's cherished home after his dad purchased it. Despite numerous renovations over the last fifty years, stripping away much of its original charm, it remained one of the largest and oldest homes in Cavite.

Nestled on a 5,000-square-meter beachfront, it was a piece of paradise—a stretch of coconut trees lined the shore, and a small cottage stood near the rocks. The sand was littered with seashells, and the beach stretched for over a kilometer, untouched and tranquil, a sanctuary for those lucky enough to be there.

But only a select few were ever allowed to experience its beauty. It was private, reserved for the Santiago family, and tended by the ever-faithful Tata Guring and Tata Juancho. Tourists never spoiled its shores. Seth often retreated here when life in the city became too much—a place where he could escape, think, and find the quiet he desperately needed.

He thought back to the summers spent here with his sister Jeanne, and later with Kristina. They had shared so many memories, picnicking on the sand, swimming under the stars, and building campfires to keep warm during the cool night air. The cottage near the rocks was where they would sleep, huddled together beneath blankets, their laughter echoing over the sound of the waves.

But today, the beach felt different. Seth spent most of the day swimming, walking the shore, and climbing the coconut trees to gather fruit. He tried to write, but his thoughts kept circling back to Yssa. He felt hurt, betrayed, wondering why he had let himself care so much. By late afternoon, he returned to the house, showered, and changed into a white sleeveless shirt and blue basketball shorts. With a glass of iced tea in hand, he made his way to the porch.

Sitting on the bamboo bench, Seth watched the sun sink below the horizon, the sky fading to a deep orange before surrendering to the night. This was his favorite time of the day—a moment when he could let his thoughts drift, untethered, and prepare himself for another battle with his inner demons.

As darkness fell, he turned on the porch light, grabbed his guitar, and began to play. The soft strumming of strings broke the silence as he sang John Mayer's "Your Body is a Wonderland," his voice quiet and reflective. Song after song, he played until Tata Juancho called him in for dinner.

It was just after seven when they sat down to eat. The meal was quiet, save for the occasional clinking of plates and cutlery. Finally, Tata Guring broke the silence.

"How's the city, Seth? How's your sister?" he asked, his raspy voice cutting through the stillness.

"She's fine, Tata Guring. The city's treating us well," Seth replied.

Nearly seventy, Tata Guring was tall and lean, his face worn from years of labor, his hands gnarled from decades of fishing. Tata Juancho, in contrast, was short and stout, his body covered in tattoos. Despite their differences, the two men were inseparable, like an odd pair of Mario and Luigi from Nintendo lore.