part 3 of 3
historical fiction
May 11, 2022
The wind lashed against Joseph’s face like an invisible bullwhip, and his rain jacket fluttered against the ever-violent air. He found Nathan by the left side of the rooftop, leaning lazily by a cement poll; his eyes stared absently at the building’s edge and below.
The smell of oncoming rain weighed on them like a damp prediction. It didn’t rain yet, but it will, soon. Joseph walked towards his brother.
“Hi.” Nathan took a lollipop out of his mouth.
Ahead of them, a steel railing a bit over knee-level high separated the rooftop and everyone on it from a one-way trip to becoming a pancake on the pavement. It’d always been easy to fit their legs through and let their feet dangle on the ledge. A precariously poignant partnership with death. And that’s what Joseph did. Nathan followed, sitting to his left.
They were about fifty-six floors high, if Joseph counted correctly. He didn’t know how many feet that was from the street, but it was more than enough, he was sure, for a tragic end in the case of an unfortunate slip.
He hated unfortunate slips, and rain made unfortunate slips happen more often than usual.
Joseph held the rail. “Bat ka nandito?”
“Wala lang. Tahimik.” He stuck the lollipop back in his mouth.
Joseph decided that he’d let the quiet rest for a while. Together, they watched the clouds roll over the skyline. Sunsets here were an inspiring view, but today it was nowhere to be found. The rain clouds proved to be too persistent.
Somewhere beyond them, thunder rumbled. Joseph wondered how far that was from them. “Nagusap na ba kayo ng kapatid mo?”
Nathan didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. Not a nod or a shake of the head. His eyes remained blank, steady. Normally, Nathan would be the manic one out of the three of them—the undying source of energy. Now, he felt like a dead battery.
“You can’t keep ignoring each other, you know?”
Nathan tapped the railing, nodding.
Joseph accepted that. He looked down. He loved looking down. Sure, it made his palms sweat and his legs weak, but he loved it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why or how, but it thrilled him. Maybe it was the danger. Maybe it was the sense of control over the danger he allowed himself to be in.
Maybe that’s why he hated politics. He never knew the danger the country would be put in until the decision would long be decided.
Down below, people walked on the thin and narrow city sidewalks. Cars honked beside them, urgently trying to get from one block to another, hopelessly trapped in a vehicular gridlock. The color of red shined below, pouring from the brake lights of the stopped cars.
This was common. It was rush hour, and it’s about to rain.
Behind them, the rooftop door opened.
“I just passed my thesis. Thought I might find you guys here,” Anthony said. He didn’t walk his usual walk, the confident and self-assured walk. No, his steps were shy and near silent. He looked at Nathan, but Nathan kept his eyes on the clouds.
Anthony sat to Joseph’s right. His bruises were still there, but at least the colors were starting to subside.
They sat there together silently for a while, the rooftop wind blasting their faces for the first time in a long time. Joseph had a hard time keeping his eyes open, but he remembered… the last time they were all here.
“Three years ago today,” Joseph said. “We lost both our parents.”
Nathan spoke, his eyes still on the sky above. “Hindi, kuya. We lost Mom.” He shifted his eyes to Joseph. “We didn’t lose Dad.”
Anthony smirked. “Being lost and leaving are different that way.”
Joseph let his feet sway, like a child on a highchair. In this case, a very very highchair. When Anthony noticed, he laughed.
Nathan fell back on the concrete floor, his arms behind his head. “San na kaya si Dad ngayon.”
When Joseph didn’t speak, Anthony did. “I don’t care.”
Nathan crossed his legs. “Di ka man lang curious?”
“No.” It didn’t look like Anthony wanted to elaborate further.
Naturally, Nathan didn’t get the read. “Pero tatay parin natin siya, di ba?”
“No,” Anthony repeated. “He forfeited that when he left us—left us when we needed him the most. Mom died. Where was he?” He looked at Joseph and urged him. “Joseph, you know, right? Where was he?”
“Ano to?” Nathan sat up.
The ground beneath them pulled Joseph stronger, like gravity had a power boost. He held tighter to the railing to calm himself. “Drinking. He went out drinking.” Joseph pointed to three spots on his face, one on the upper right cheek, one on the left cheek close to the mouth, and one on the lower chin. “Left me with three bruises that day. Tandaan mo ba yun, Nathan?”
He nodded stiffly.
Anthony nudged Joseph’s arm. “And how many bruises did you leave him with?”
“Not as much as those people left you.” A smile crept up Joseph’s lips, but he shook his head. “No, uhm. Five, I think.” He still didn’t know how he felt about that. Joseph wasn’t the one who started the fight. His dad did. No child should ever hit their parent. Not in most circumstances, anyway. Children have an unpayable debt to their mothers and fathers, but debts take a rest in times of death. Even unpayable ones.
He still wasn’t sure why his dad started shouting and began pushing him around the bar that day. On why he yelled to his face, repeatedly, “SUNTIKIN MOKO! SUNTUKIN MO AKO!”
Maybe his grief had gotten the better of him and made him insane. Maybe he was looking for pain, pain only his son could give. Whatever the reason, he had no right to leave them. He wasn’t the only one grieving.
But after that night, he never saw him again. Sometimes, he could still smell the stench of beer breath that came from his mouth. Sometimes, he still cried, but not as often as before. Not nearly as often.
Nathan hugged him. “Sorry di ko alam.”
Joseph chuckled. “Wala kang kasalanan.” He clutched his brother.
“Actually meron,” Anthony said. “Why am I not included in that hug?”
“Tsch, lika nga!” Joseph opened his arms wider, engulfing Anthony too. “Wala nang away away ah!” He didn’t think his brothers could reply properly given that he was squeezing the both of them, but their muffled replies were enough of an assurance for him.
He let go. Anthony tried his best to regain his breath. “Suffocating, kuya.” He coughed.
“Cover your mouth!” said Joseph.
When Anthony was about to purposefully cough at Joseph’s direction, a soft tak, tak tak, rattled the steel railing.
Nathan stood. “Umaambon na.” It was true. A small drop of rain fell on Joseph’s nosebridge.
Anthony extended his hand to get a feel for it, standing up too. “Yeah, we better go before it gets stronger.”
“Wait.” Joseph was the last to stand. He tilted his head upwards. He was half-tempted to stick his tongue out and taste the water. He used to do that before, and Mom always scolded him for it.
Someone tugged at his sleeve. “Tara!” said Nathan. “Magkakasakit pa tayo dito.” They already had their hands over their heads, as if that did anything.
Then the rain got stronger, but not strong enough to completely drench them. Not yet. He closed his eyes.
It had been strong though, back then. The last time they were here. Caution tape had been sprawled over the railing. The policeman said Mom was here—that it was an unfortunate slip. Of the three brothers, only Joseph had looked. Even if he hadn’t been allowed to.
He had to see her for himself. Two policemen had him by his arms, but he had to see it. He had to see if death was real, and not just some boogeyman concept they told children to make them sit and stay and follow.
Death was real. It was real as it could get.
Joseph opened his eyes, snapping himself out of his memory, and unzipped his jeans.
“WOAH WOAH WOAH!” Anthony put his hands up. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING MAN!?!”
“I’ll be honest. I always wanted to do this.” The rain poured harder. He walked on over to the ledge, cautiously so he wouldn’t slip. He tilted his waist to pee… but nothing came out.
Nathan joined him, unzipping his pants too. Yellow piss fell to the streets below. “Tingin mo may makakahalata?”
“With this storm? Parang malabo.” Finally, Joseph had it going.
Anthony stepped up beside them. “Fine. Fine.” He unzipped his pants and did it too. “You think we’ll survive the next six years?”
“Surviving is easy,” Joseph replied. “It’s everything else that comes with it that’s hard.”
“You make it sound so dramatic.”
Nathan moved his stance. “Basta magkasama tayo, di ba?”
“Basta magkasama tayo.” Joseph closed his eyes again. And there, above the world, with rain pounding his shoulders and piss flowing through him, he felt at peace.
Comments