Chapter 7 A House To Called My Home

• ( Janine )
• I stood heavily and trudged to the store. We still have huge debts to pay there and I doubted if Aling Nena would still allow me to take more credit. But the good woman she was, she still lent me some canned goods. I promised to pay half the amount of our debt on the next payday, leaving my wallet empty again.
• The way home was an isle between shanties of the slums. Gossipers littered around every day and that day was nothing different.
• “Whoever the young Zel Cantheliz marries is surely lucky,” a fat woman happily narrated to three other women. “His father has just died and left him two companies to run. He’s so rich and very handsome!”
• As if they owned the place, they were chatting at the center of the narrow alley. So, I excused myself when I went through. But as I passed by, their topic changed from the billionaire to a gossip about my younger sister, Amy. I scrunched my brows at their rumors and glared at them before leaving. My family was usually the talk of the people around us and Amy wasn’t excused. Her rebellious attitude did catch their interest.
• The house went quiet when I arrived with food. I expected Amy to be the only reasonable person that I could ask to feed father after I leave for work, but she refused me indifferently.
• “Are you ordering me around?” she replied.
• How could all of them treat father with ingratitude? Day by day, my heart was shattering to pieces. I wiped my tears off before going inside Pa’s room to give him the food he deserved to eat. He’s the only ray of sunshine that was left in my otherwise gray world. My heart turned to mush when I saw him smile.
• Before leaving for work, I took one last look at our poor house. Signs of ruin were everywhere. If only genies exist, I’d wish for everyone to change and maybe,
• just maybe…
• Give us a pretty decent place I could call ‘home’.
• (WENZIEL)
• I was surprised to see the car sped off down the road. And even more surprised that his men did nothing to prevent him. These were highly trained executive protection officers who I expected not to be intimidated by Tyron’ s words, no matter how he threatened their jobs. After all, Eriez and I decide who to fire among his men. Tyron would just be too pleased to fire them all and be free like a bird.
• “What are you all waiting for?” I shouted in disbelief. “Follow him!”
• I averted my look to Deo whose head was bowed down in guilt, “And you even let him borrow your car!”
• Good Lord! What were these people thinking? What would happen if Tyron got into danger?
• “But yesterday…” Deo muttered.
• “Follow him or lose your jobs!” I cut him short and repeated my words. Not waiting for any reply, I took my keys and started my own car. I tracked the GPS that was secretly installed into Tyron’ s phone and drove off in livid curiosity.
• What in the world was he thinking?
• (TYRON)
• The old chapel eerily made my heart warm. Something about it reminded me of a happy moment that rarely happened in my burdensome life. An old woman was sat in the corner and was tending her flowers for sale. It made me recall the white roses that ‘that lady’ gave me that night.
• “A basket of roses please,” I smiled at her through the car window. “The most beautiful out of the white ones.”
• “Here son,” she handed it to me and I gave her whatever bills I picked in my wallet.
• She looked at me in surprise and tried to return most of what I had given. “This is too much, dear.”
• “Please take it,” I smiled.
• It was a miracle how that place made me smile so often. I can’t wait to see her once again. I wished, or prayed rather, that she’d pass by.
• ( Tyron )
• But the chapel was empty when I went in. I expected that much but somewhere within, I felt disappointed. My longing was killing me. The porcelain vase at the altar went into view. The roses we had put there the other night still looked fresh although most of the petals had fallen. I didn’t exactly know how to do a decent flower arrangement so I left the basket on the feet of the altar podium.
• “Wow.”
• I recognized that sweet voice.
• It was her.
• I didn’t turn because I was hiding my smile.
• “Is there a funeral?” she joked.
• “Maybe,” my smile disappeared and I looked around to finally see her.
• “Really?” her eyes saddened in surprise. “Where?”
• “Not exactly here,” I chuckled sadly.
• “Thank God. I’m afraid of coffins and corpses,” she said.
• Her attention went back to the basket of flowers and she excitedly approached it. “Did you buy this?”
• “Nope.” I lied. “That basket was there when I came here.”
• She seemed to really like them and although she believed my lie, I was happy that it made her smile.
• “Why are you here?” she suddenly turned around so I averted my gaze before she could catch me staring.
• “Oh, that…I just came to visit. This place eases me up,” I thought of another lie but in fact, it was true.
• She took my hand- my hand! - and pulled me close to the votive candle rack. She took out a matchbox and some candles from her bag. She gave me one candle and lit her own. It was then my turn to light mine so she gave me the small box.
• “Light yours and then we’ll pray.”
• I attempted to do what she did although I’ve never held a match in my entire life. I’ve got a Zippo but it was probably in the car, so I just took one stick and stroked it against the side of the box. It didn’t light up. The second one broke. The third one got broken too until almost everything inside went unusable.
• Something like that should be too easy to use but why can’t I do it?
• ( Tyron )
• Something like that should be too easy to use but why can’t I do it?
• She held her stomach in laughter, “Do it gently.”
• I tried more gently as she instructed but still failed miserably. She held my hand and helped me lit the stick together, “Do it like this.”
• I tried for the last time and finally gave up, “Why is this thing so difficult to do?”
• “Lighting a match takes heartfelt dedication you know,” she teased again. “You’re like a kid; you can’t even light a match.”
• “Shut up and just pray there,” I hissed. My devilish horns were growing yet again.
• We spent some time in silence. Her eyes where tightly closed in prayer while I watched and imitated her. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes like she did. I don’t have anything to say to God but confusedly, all the wishes I longed to ask for went into my mind. I was praying, for real.
• When it all ended, the lonesome feeling of separation surfaced. Breathing in the cool air again, I spoke admirably of that little place. “This chapel is beautiful…and quiet. Although it looked a little haunted.”
• “Surely is. Didn’t you know a priest hanged himself inside? Since then, this chapel has been avoided and was eventually abandoned,” she narrated.
• “Really? Did his ghost scare them off?” I thought and smiled when I noticed she was a little frightened. I suddenly remembered she was afraid of those things, “Well, restless souls become apparitions to scare, ask for help, or even take revenge.”
• I expected she’d leave first but she seemed to be staying longer. “Aren’t you going home yet?”
• “I’ll still wait for sister Ema,” she shrugged cheerfully “As long as the ghost don’t show up, I’ll be fine. Aren’t you going home?”
• “You’d be left here alone if I leave. I guess I’ll stay for a bit.”
• Her face lit up. “Thanks. What’s your name?”
• I was surprised by her question. For a brief second, I considered making up a name for myself. But one day she’d see my face on TV or anywhere else and think I was a liar. So, despite all uncertainty, I told her, “Tyron.”
• “Oh, a namesake,” she smiled. “With the infamously snub young billionaire.”
• @SenaMangampo