The Reverie of Bobby Martinez

Chapter 5: Whispers Behind Doors

Bobby's eyes opened and all he could see were the little bits of his room that were illuminated by the moonlight that shone through his bedroom window. He felt a small tear form in his right eye.

He could hear light footsteps outside his room. It was probably his parents as they probably just arrived home from work. He could hear a slight murmur coming from outside. He sat up from his bed and tip toed to his door. The floor felt cool under his feet and creaked lightly with each step he took. He lightly placed his ear against the cool dark wood of his door. 

The voices sounded distant through the wood and Bobby closed his eyes as he tried to focus on the words that were being said.

He listened intently but he could barely make out what his parents were talking about.

"He needs it, mahal." His father said sternly. His father rarely showed strong emotions but he could tell that something was wrong with the tone of his voice.

"No he doesn't. How could you think that way? How could you call him baliw like Tony's child?" His mother's voice sounded exasperated. Bobby's mother always smiled unless she was scolding him for being naughty around the house. Bobby wondered why she sounded upset right now. 

His father let out a long sigh. "He's drawing again." Now it was clear to Bobby that their conversation was about him but just as this thought was passing him his eyes started to betray him. He was more tired than he thought but he wanted to listen more. 

He started hearing the faint sobs of his mother. He heard heavy footsteps pacing around and he could imagine his father walking around the living room. Bobby wondered why his parents seemed to dislike it when he drew. He couldn't understand how this could upset the both of them so much. 

A long time ago, whenever Bobby drew, his mom's eyes would widen with happiness. "Anak! This is so good, can you draw mommy next?" His mother would say, patting his head gently. She had been cooking eggs for merienda that afternoon. Bobby still remembered the smell of bread warming in the toaster while his mother poured him his favorite orange-flavored drink. 

The kitchen seemed to glow a warm yellow. The red polka-dots on his mother's apron had caught Bobby's eyes. It was a hot summer day and the sky was a calm clear blue. The green leaves of the mango tree growing in their backyard seemed to wave at Bobby whenever he glanced outside the window. HIs mother used to always hum her favorite songs as she served the food on the table.

"Mahal! Merienda is ready!" His mother shouted, calling for his father. He heard his father's heavy footsteps walk towards the kitchen from the living room. He had a newspaper folded under his arm and he pulled the dining chair back and sat comfortably.

"Wow! Sarap!" His father exclaimed. The food not only looked delicious, it smelled it too. His mother smiled and put the drawing in front of his father. "Ang ganda! Bobby, you'll draw daddy next, right?" his father laughed.

"No, he will draw mommy next." His mother had sat down on the table as well. His family always prayed before eating. When they had finished, bobby quickly put the scrambled eggs on his toast. He took a big bite. His mother always prepared his favorite food for merienda.

Bobby knelt down and leaned on his door and felt the cold wooden floor below his legs. He could not understand why his parents were upset. They had always loved his drawings. His father had bought all his art supplies and his mother used to put his drawings around the house. 

Now the same drawings were collecting dust in a small pile in the living room table. The walls in his house felt empty, the white walls seemed neverending. The kitchen rarely smelled of food and his mother had stopped cooking as often. The mango tree in the backyard was starting to become bare as the leaves started to fall on the dry earth below. Brown leaves scattered everywhere that you could barely see the grass underneath. His mother always kept silent nowadays, sitting alone in the kitchen looking outside the window. Time seemed to stop along with her.

Bobby felt upset and confused but most of all he felt tired. His body slumped against the door and his eyes felt heavier than before. His head began to bob up and down until Bobby's eyes finally closed. 

He didn't have any dreams afterwards.