The Demon in Uncle Joe's House

CHAPTER 4

Mama, Rachel and I were in our living room. Rachel and I were seated on the couch, while Mama was on another chair, watching an old box office hit Gone With the Wind on HBO. I was brooding over Uncle Joe's upcoming fate. Rachel was reading Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. The title reminded me of Uncle Joe's cabin in his farm. It was such a cozy place—made up of bamboo with cogon roof. During summer, I and Uncle Joe would go there and enjoy the coziness of the surroundings. Of course, we used to eat our lunch there after doing some farm chores. I really loved lying down in that cabin! I'm afraid that won't happen again—ever.

Then my cellphone rang. It was Dr. Ignacio calling. I froze. I took a few seconds before I answered the phone. I braced myself for the worst. I felt like an accused respondent about to hear the judge's verdict.

"Don't you answer the phone?" Mama told me when she noticed my hesitation.

I looked at Rachel for moral support. She nodded as if she were saying, 'Go ahead, Honey, answer the phone. You can do it."

"Hello, Dr. Ignacio," I answered the phone nervously. My heart was beating like a jackhammer. 

'Hello, Engineer Almendares," I heard Dr. Ignacio's voice on the phone.

"What's up, Doc?" I tried to be cheerful although deep inside I was really troubled.

"Your Uncle...is dead. The time was 3:33 pm," he announced.

I was silent for a moment. The inevitable had come, and I had difficulty searching for the right words to say.

"Engineer, are you still there?" Dr. Ignacio asked.

"Yes, Doctor. I'm sorry. Were you there when it happened?" I asked. Tears began to roll on my cheeks.

"Of course, yes. He died peacefully. But before he breathed his last, he uttered your name," Dr. Ignacio said.  Then he added, "I'm sorry, Sir and condolence."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said. "Where's his body now?"

"It's in the hospital's morgue. You can retrieve the body anytime," was his reply.

"Thank you, Doctor Ignacio," I repeated. Then the good doctor hanged up.

Mama, who had been listening, rightly guessed what happened.

"Manong Joe's dead, right?" her voice trembled.

I just nodded my head. Mama began to cry, and so did Rachel. 

"Poor Manong Joe!" Mama sobbed.

I couldn't restrain my emotion anymore, so I let it go. They said that it was shame for a man to cry, but I didn't care during that moment. I knew that crying would not make one less a man. Jesus Christ Himself, the King of all kings, and the Supreme Ruler of the Universe, cried when He learned of the death of His friend Lazarus. There's nothing to be ashamed of!

Moments later, when everyone had calmed down, I told Mama and Rachel to prepare Uncle Joe's house for his wake. Meanwhile, I contacted Arnold Felix, the proprietor of Golden Rest Funeral Parlor, for Uncle Joe's embalming and other related funeral services. I drove to Urdaneta City Medical Center for the release of Uncle Joe's body, while a hearse from Golden Rest followed.

At about 10:43 pm that Saturday, Uncle Joe's body was laid in his own living room. A few neighbors who learned about his death came to vigil. Mama, Rachel and I stood by Uncle Joe's coffin. As I looked down on his face I didn't see any sign of suffering. Doctor Ignacio was right. Uncle Joe died peacefully despite the disease that killed him. Then I remembered what Dr. Ignacio had said. Uncle Joe mentioned my name. Did he want to leave a message for me? Too bad I wasn't there when he gave up the ghost! Again I sobbed.

Sensing my grief, Rachel lovingly patted my shoulder. Then she led me to a nearby chair. 

As soon as I was seated, Rachel sitting beside me, I said, "Uncle Joe uttered my name just before he died. I suppose he wanted to leave a message for me."

"Well, whatever it was, it would be buried with him in his grave," Rachel told 

"If only I could talk to him right now, I would know what he wanted to say," I again began to sob.

Rachel just held my hands and squeezed them gently. If Rachel were not by my side, I would have been overwhelmed by grief. That's the beauty of having someone who loved you. She's always there to comfort you and give you a shoulder to lean on. Plus the fact that I had a caring mother who was always there for my spiritual and emotional needs.  Without these two women in my life, I would have been down and out.

I wondered if Uncle Joe were my biological father. How would I feel? Uncle Joe was not really co sanguinely related to me, but his demise had brought me unbearable sorrow. How much more if he were my real father? Then I wondered how would I feel if I was already old enough to witness the death of my own father. I might have gone crazy. Sometimes, I thanked God for taking my father months before I was born. In that way, He spared me from unbearable sorrow. 

"Rachel, Honey," I asked hypothetically, "What if Uncle Joe had lived alone in another place?"

"Well, your guess is as good as mine," she smiled.

"Yeah, he would have died alone, and even rot alone," I commented as I shook my head.

Rachel said, "Perhaps, God intended that he would be your neighbor and that He made you very fond of him. Otherwise, Uncle Joe would have died a miserable death."

Moments later, Mama joined us. She sat beside me such that I was between her and Rachel.

"You know,  Mama, Uncle Joe's death made me experience how it is to lose a father," I told her.

"Just because you didn't see how your father died?" she looked at me.

"Just because I did not see Papa die. Yes, Mama. You know, I was wondering how I felt if Uncle Joe were my father. I think I might have gone crazy,"

Mama looked at me and said lovingly, "Well, anyway, son, I am still here for you. Come what may, I won't leave you."

I smiled and said, "And I thank God for having you. You had been my mother and my father rolled into one" Then I shifted my gaze to Rachel, and with a smile, I said to her, "And Rachel, my friend, my sweetheart, and the loving mother of my future children."

The two of them—the two most important women in my life—embraced me.