THE cornfields were still covered in morning mist when Marian passed by Tony’s house. She knew Tony would not be up yet. He often came to school late, and she liked him for it. She liked him more for being blemished in character than for being the most handsome boy in the village.
Marian was an early riser, and being so, she sometimes wondered why she found Tony’s tardiness something to be fond of. Only years later, when she was a little wiser in the ways of the world, did she realize why. It was because Tony’s flaw made him more human, more reachable for her. It meant that Tony could look at her the way she looked at him.
If Tony could not be made to do everything a student should, then maybe he could not also be made to do everything Christian boys did. His eyes might not be set on Christian girls only. He might see Marian not the way Christian settlers usually saw tribal inhabitants but the way a boy would see a girl.
Tony’s mother was in front of the house, sweeping the yard. When she saw Marian on the road, she went to the side of the house and banged the wooden wall with her broom. “Tony!” she shouted. “Get up now. You’ll be late again.”
Marian was a little disappointed to find out that the room facing the road was not Tony’s. Whenever she passed by the house, she would take her time and stare at the windows, hoping the wooden jalousies would slide open and Tony, rubbing the sleep off his eyes, his hair still ruffled, would peek out and see her.
“God, Tony,” his mother continued talking. “Do I always have to wake you up every morning? When will you ever get up on your own!”
Marian was already two houses away, but she could still hear Tony’s mother. The woman was known in the village for having a loud voice and being a nag. “Tony, do you want me to set your butt on fire? What time are you going to wake up? Your Manoba schoolmate has already passed. Are you not ashamed?”
Marian fled the scene. The road was empty, and no one seemed to have witnessed her humiliation, but her cheeks flushed. Now she knew what Tony’s mother thought of tribal people. The woman had said that Tony should be ashamed because a Manobo girl, someone who for her was in the lower rung of the social ladder, showed a greater sense of responsibility than Tony did. The woman would never think high of Marian as a person, much less a daughter-in-law. Marian could not breathe. Tony had broken her heart even before doing anything.
RAIN was lashing down on the crops. Water flowed on the road, turning it slowly into a shallow stream. Beside the road, Marian was taking shelter under a huge tree. She should be shivering because of the temperature, but she felt feverish instead, because on the other side of the tree, Tony was also taking shelter.
Marian had been waiting for this moment all her life. It felt as though only Tony and she were the only persons in the world. But she dared not utter a word to him. She was afraid that if she greeted Tony and he would say something to her in return, she might faint or make a fool of herself in some way and lose her chance forever of being liked by him too. Tony was also acting as though he was alone, so they stood on their respective sides of the world, the huge trunk between them, too near yet too far.
Marian busied herself by taking off her socks and shoes. They were soaking wet. She was on the eastern side of the tree, and the wind was blowing west. She wrapped the socks and shoes with a paper and placed them in her well-worn backpack. When the rain abated for a moment, she took off without so much as glancing at Tony. Barefoot, she plodded along the muddy road.
She felt as though Tony’s eyes were following her. She walked fast. She wanted to disappear from his sight. She was afraid Tony might see something wrong with her backpack, her skirt, or the way she walked and not like her. In her hurry, she was not able to gauge how slippery one part of the road was. Her foot slid. She lost her balance and fell to her backside on the muddy ground. She burst into tears.
She did not stand up right away. She continued crying without a sound, totally forgetting that Tony was just several meters behind her. She was frustrated because her skirt was a mess, and because she had only one uniform, she didn’t know how she could go to school the next day.
“Are you all right?” a voice asked.
She looked up and saw Tony. His eyes seemed filled with genuine worry, and she looked back at those eyes in disbelief. Tony was the first to stare away. “You don’t seem hurt,” he said. “But you’re crying. You’re so weak.”
Marian felt blood rush up her face. She couldn’t let anyone call her weak. She turned to him and said, “I’m not weak. How dare you say that. You don’t know me.”
“If you’re so tough,” Tony said with a frown, “what are those tears for?”
Marian could not understand why Tony was angry with her. She didn’t know that he was really angry at himself because he got worried for her, for someone he wasn’t supposed to care about. “I didn’t cry because I was hurt,” Marian said. “It’s because my uniform is soiled. I have to wear this until—”
She caught herself. She had just told Tony that she did not change her uniform every day. Embarrassed, she turned away and continued walking, not looking back. Tony did not do or say anything.
The second part will be published next week.
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