| MAIKLING
KWENTO
Afternoon Ink Polaroids with John Paul Fredeluces
By Adam David
1. Aliens in
the air vent
THIS IS THE
EARLIEST POLAROID I HAVE OF JOHN PAUL. It's of the two of us looking
up at an air vent grill at our Home Economics room back in Holy
Angels, with a framed wooden carving of a dancing couple hanging
by my side, stiff broom in John Paul's hand. It was the first quarter
of the school year, and as group project, we were told to prepare
food for the class. Groups of at least four members, the teacher
told us. Everyone grouped up in fives and sixes, leaving Neptalle,
Rizen, John Paul and I groupless. There was an awkward moment before
Rizen declared that the four of us form the last group. We grumbled
and sighed and shrugged our shoulders and wrote our names in a quarter
sheet of yellow paper, and declared ourselves the Last Group.
We made bite-size
pan de sal pizzas for the class. We forgot to buy meat, so we ended
up doing vegetarian pizza: tomato sauce, green pepper and cheese.
It was considered a failure by the teacher, but as far as the four
of us were concerned, it was a success worthy of thirty orgasms,
as the teacher unwittingly cemented our bonds of friendship and
camaraderie that'd prove to last up until now.
The frustrated
teacher made us clean up after the other groups, and while John
Paul and I were taking self-imposed breaks, we were discussing the
possible exits we could take just in case Giger's xenomorphs come
crawling in from the windows overlooking Santolan. "We could
take the air vent," John Paul suggested. We both looked up
at the ceiling, at the lone air vent grill screwed to the plywood.
The grill was as wide as a sheet of short bond paper: 8" by
11". "Too short, man," I told him. "We can try,
though. But we all know what happened to the space marines when
they took to the air vents…" I followed up.
He regarded
my hanging statement with the respect it deserved, his gears grinding.
He held up an invisible motion detector at chest level and said
"Twenty meters… Fifteen meters… Five meters!!!"
with much emotion. I, in turn, held up my invisible Vulcan cannon
strapped to my invisible GP belt and started spreading invisible
armor-
piercing bullets, hoping in vain to hit the approaching xenomorphs.
2. The Reason
for the Narra Girls' distaste for John Paul
I'M NOT IN THIS
POLAROID, BUT THE REST OF MY CLASS IS. That's John Paul on the left
foreground, his frown painted with Joel's blue and yellow poster
color. Beside him is Archimedes, that midget from Cebu. They are
holding up this white banner saying "FIRST-YEAR NARRA"
in big blue letters, and right below it, in smaller type "Ms.
Leslie dela Cruz ~ Muse" and right below it was my name, followed
by the word "Escort", both lines in blue. Snaking behind
them are our classmates, all the girls and all the boys. Notice
that they are wearing blue, yellow and red tie-dyed shirts, all
of which were hand-
dyed by me, eight or so hours before this Polaroid was taken. We
can only see John Paul's face here (which is frowning), as the rest
of the class is looking up to the gymnasium ceiling, where a blue
balloon was headed.
It was our Second
Annual Holy Angels Montessori High School Intramurals. The event
started with the Parade of Colors, and we were the first section
that paraded their colors around the campus that year. Being freshmen,
we were told by our advisers that our color was blue (which explains
the shirts and the face paint and the balloons). The girls of the
class arranged our whole routine for the parade: we would walk around
with our banners and balloons, giddy as heck, chanting the freshmen's
cheers. John Paul and Archimedes (for some reason no one really
told us) were picked to lead the group with the banner bearing our
section's name, and the balloons with names of the other sections
and levels printed on them. When given the signal, they were to
make the balloons pop with a pin, supposed to symbolize the other
sections' defeat from us.
They had around
eight balloons, two balloons for each level. We reached the gymnasium,
and John Paul and Archimedes were ready like virgins: pin in one
hand, stringed balloons in the other. Vanessa gave them the signal,
and Archimedes started popping his balloons. The balloons popped
one by one, their death given one pop-salute each. It was with the
sixth balloon when John Paul sneezed and accidentally made the balloon
fly up and away from the pin's reach. The whole class groaned, the
rest of the campus jeered and cheered, and John Paul let out a resounding
pronouncement of his frustration, so loud it made our adviser give
him a nasty glare: "SHIT!!" he said.
We lost the
intramurals. And for around three months after that day, the whole
school was constantly reminded of that accident by that same blue
balloon that wouldn't go away, as it found its way into one of the
six corners of the gymnasium's ceiling. It was stuck there until
it ran out of hydrogen. The girls never forgave John Paul for that
mistake.
3. John Paul
gives Political Correctness a stab to the balls
THAT'S JOHN
PAUL WEARING THAT CONTROVERSIAL SHIRT he made during his silk screen
phase. It's a white Hanes shirt that says "NUKE CHINA!!"
in big red letters. You can see with his smile that he thought it
was a clever idea.
He made me a
shirt, too, but it didn't sport any statement or threat of nuclear
bombardment against any country. Instead, it said "When will
the hurting stop?" in black scrawls, as he knows I'm a Terrible
Thunder Lizards fan.
He doesn't wear
that shirt anymore, but he still thinks it was a clever idea.
4. Hell hath
no fury like Ramoncito Dagondon scorned!!
THAT BROWN BLUR
OF HATE TAKING UP three-fourths of the Polaroid is Ramoncito Dagondon,
or "Mon" to his friends. This was taken around ten minutes
after our lunch break at school, inside our classroom. It was during
those last few months where Mon was rapidly going down the Spiral
Staircase of Crystal Meth. He was getting more and more touchy about
his name (which I guess was used against him ever since he was in
the maternity ward), and in that particular afternoon (was during
our finals, if I remember correctly), our Filipino Language teacher
made a crack about him.
"Who laughed?"
he asked the class in a fit of rage. No one answered, and that pissed
him off a bit more. He let us know his discontent with a ridiculous
roar. So ridiculous it turns out, as next thing that the class heard
was John Paul's stifled laughter.
Mon's head reeled,
searching for the source of the laughter. We were about to stand
up to pray when Mon suddenly darted towards John Paul, fists clenched
so tightly that his neck was gnarled with veins. I moved as fast
as I could, placing myself between John Paul and Mon. I moved towards
Mon and tackled him with a bear-hug. I made the mistake of lowering
my head like a turtle, as this gave Mon an unobstructed view of
John Paul's military-cut head.
Mon hit John
Paul's head with three knuckles. I stood between the two, ready
to pummel Mon in case he decides to hit John Paul again. Joel dragged
Mon away from us, kicking and screaming that he'll get back on me
next time. Behind me, I could hear John Paul sobbing quietly, almost
noiselessly. And every three silent sniffles, he said "shit",
but only to himself.
Later that month,
I got a threatening phonecall from Mon's older brother (I think
he was 26 or something. I was 14), him screaming at me, saying that
he'll beat me senseless. He never got me (but that's an entirely
different Polaroid).
5. Battle-scars
THAT SCARLET
TRAPEZOID IN THE MIDDLE OF THE POLAROID is John Paul's Valentine's
Day scar. Our school had one of those Valentine's Day Dance Ball,
and our teachers forced everyone to go, with or without a date (of
course, they encouraged that we come with dates). The four of us
(that's me, Marc, Gil and Joel) were playing on stage when John
Paul got the scar.
We were playing
"Love is All Around" when it happened: John Paul and Archimedes
were running around the campus in the dark (it was night) and all
the lights (except for the gymnasium's set) were out. John Paul
was chasing Archimedes around in the dark for some reason or the
other (I assume it was because Archimedes was making fun of John
Paul) when Archimedes, weasely Cebuano that he is, jumped up towards
the school benches (that were piled up one over the other). John
Paul, being the stubborn ass that he is, jumped up after Archimedes.
Maybe it was the dark, maybe it was because he wasn't thinking,
but John Paul somehow hit his right knee on the corner of a bench.
He was howling in pain. We didn't hear it, though, as we were busy
playing on stage.
John Paul bunched
up his trousers' right leg to show me the wound: the blow managed
to scoop out about a quarter of an inch's worth of flesh and meat.
"I think I can see the bone!!" Gil kidded. It was scarlet
and wet and it looked like a piece of pepperoni stuck to his knee.
John Paul has
another scar: a small oval-shaped blankness below his left ear,
near where the brainstem should be, a souvenir from his La Salle
High School days. People kept teasing him about it, calling him
names. I called him Jonny Mnemonic.
6. Fumigating
Rizen
THIS IS US WALKING
DOWN KATIPUNAN, the sun baking us with her hot hot hot summer glare.
Which was rather strange, as it wasn't summer, yet, as this was
in a November weekday (probably a Wednesday). The guy in a school
uniform crossing the street is Rizen Salonga, a classmate of ours.
John Paul got rid of him, twenty seconds before this Polaroid was
taken.
They dismissed
us during our lunch break, as they had to fumigate the whole campus
for disease-bearing mosquitoes (this was during one of those outbreaks).
As we were walking down from our classroom, I felt like I was an
astronaut about to leave this alien world I just stepped on several
minutes ago. Like I was leaving some desolate blue-
colored desert planet behind. It felt weird, walking down the stairs
with such thoughts in mind. We went out the gate, the three of us,
and proceeded to walk to Katipunan in silence.
"Where're
the two of you headed?" Rizen asked me. I shrugged my shoulder
towards John Paul (who was walking alongside me, to my right). It
was too hot for speech. "My place," John Paul told Rizen
with a mix of boredom and irritation in his voice. "Can I come
with you?" he asked after ten minutes. John Paul and I exchanged
worried looks.
"We still
have a long way to go, Rizen. I don't think you can hack it,"
John Paul told him. I was quiet, squinting my eyes as the pavement
glowed white-hot. It was true, actually, what John Paul said. His
house was at least four kilometers away from where we were. "And
we won't be doing much: just drink lemonade." That was also
true, only he left out the bit where we were going to eat cake (as
it was John Paul's sister's birthday) and fiddle about with his
dad's workshop (as we were building a custom-job marine vehicle
for our Joes).
I stole a side-way
glance at Rizen, searching his face for rolling tears. We were acting
like snobs, I know, but we couldn't help it. Even Neptalle acted
like a snob with Rizen. When we reached Labor Hospital, Rizen darted
to the left (away from us, rightly so) and crossed Katipunan. Not
even a goodbye from him. "Yes!!" I heard John Paul cheer
in a whisper.
"Hehehe.
Poor kid, no?" I said during a Sprite-drinking break. John
Paul laughed at that. "I guess he finally got it," he
said thoughtfully. I guess he did.
The week after
that, the school was declared free of disease-bearing mosquitoes.
That week was also the start of Rizen's infamous streaks of absences,
which went on for months at a time. Funny thing about that was,
he still made Student Number Six in the Top Ten Best Students of
Narra. John Paul and I were reportedly Students Number Twelve and
Eleven, respectively.
7. John Paul's
Frank Black impression
JOHN PAUL'S
POSING IN FRONT OF SEVERAL mannequins in a store selling sequined
gowns in Ali Mall's second floor cinema strip. All the mannequins
in the display had at least one finger missing, instead only scotch-tape
covered stubs can be seen where the fingers were supposed to be.
It was rather bizarre.
I noticed it
right away, actually. "Look, John: she's missing a finger!!"
I was feeling a bit under the weather, and we were walking towards
the stairs to go down and out of the mall. The first mannequin we
saw was missing her right index finger. She was wearing a violet
dress, sequins stitched on to it, making it glimmer like a ball
of small mirrors. "Here's another one!!" he called out.
The mannequin he found was missing her left ring finger. "And
another one!!" he called out again, this time a thumb was absent.
"Too bloody
weird," I said thoughtfully. John Paul was quiet for a bit,
and then said, in the best cement-scraping voice he could come up
with (and with his sort of voice, it must've been quite a feat),
said "We're dealing with a serial killer here…" I
wanted to hit him on the head for getting to say the bloody line
before I even had the chance to think about it.
8. In pursuit
of the nostalgia and charm of Iced Gems
HERE WE ARE,
WAITING IN LINE AT DAILY'S. We passed by the grocery to buy Iced
Gems, an effort to relive some fond fond memories form our childhood
of oh so long ago. I haven't seen a pack of those Iced Gems since
1989, way back in Pasay. My mother used to buy me those everytime
we went to the local Chinaman's store. I stumbled on to them again
quite by accident: I was there to buy deodorant, and I somehow found
myself in the Aisle of Coffee Grains (one of the best metaphors
I have ever read regarding colored people: "… different
blends of coffee…" It was written by Alan Moore). Shoved
into one of the shelves was a discarded bag of Iced Gems. I was
quite surprised that they were still using their old packet design:
brown, white, yellow and orange, with a butterfly and a caterpillar.
That was how I recognized it. My head suddenly rewound into the
past, as I started smelling the alcohol fluid that the Chinaman
used to use for his oil lamp.
I think we waited
in line for about twenty minutes. We picked the Express Lane ("TEN
PIECES OR LESS" it screamed at us in red letters), as we only
had one item to purchase. But, the most awful thing: the lady in
front of us had two carts of items of various categories: glassware,
rubber footwear, breakfast drinks, breakfast cereals, processed
meat, magazines, tobacco sticks, bread, jam, silverware, laundry
powder, deodorants, sanitary napkins, feminine pads… it was
amazing. And the weirdest thing was, the cashier never said a word
about how much items the lady shoved into the Express Lane.
John Paul and
I exchanged wise-arse comments throughout, about the Express Lane.
We were trying to be patient. When it was time for her to pay for
her groceries (three bloody grand and twenty pesos!!), she pulled
out a wad of gift cheques. I threw my hands up to the air like an
Arab being cheated out of his stash of incense.
It took the
cashier ten minutes to clear the cheques. "I thought this was
the Express Lane…" I said quietly, as sweet as I could.
The cashier just gave me an annoyed smirk, as if we both knew a
secret, like we both knew that she was wearing a thong, and it was
pushing up and into her arsehole. I smirked back at her and paid
for the Iced Gems (for a dozen Iced Gems, only twenty-nine pesos!!).
John Paul and I ate it as we walked to Cubao.
9. Aiza's comeback
falls short in John Paul's heart
THIS ONE HAS
JOHN PAUL GIVING AIZA SEGUERRA'S STAGE THE FINGER. About three months
before this Polaroid was taken, Arnold Clavio look-
alike/child star Aiza Seguerra thought it'd be a brilliant idea
for a comeback. The media was saturated with her new album, her
new single, her Arnold Clavio mug plastered all over the malls,
at record bars and at the ABS-CBN News Channel. Gil even had the
opening riff of her carrier single as the bloody ringing tone of
his bloody mobile phone. It was rather amazing and sickening at
the same time.
Now she was
about to perform at the newly renovated, quite culture-
shocking Ali Mall. All four floors were fifteen-heads thick with
Aiza Seguerra fans. "Who here wants to see Aiza Seguerra?"
the emcee screamed to the microphone. Around a quarter of the audience
(me included) raised their hands, some of them even letting out
a girly "Yay!!". "Come on, man: let's stay and see
Aiza Seguerra. I had a neighbor who had a crush on her…"
I said, looking up past the audience's heads, to the stage. Aiza
wasn't there, yet. The stage had a Styrofoam backdrop, freckled
with flakes of glitters. How bloody Eighties, Indira would say.
"Yeah,
right, a friend of yours," I heard John Paul say. I sensed
a dash of wise-arse in his voice. We walked to the drinking station
and drank some regurgitated mineral water. "The more we `progress'
in this New Millennium, the more stupid people are created…"
John Paul said after he finished drinking. I saw him scanning the
crowd like they were AMA students to his Assumptionista. "Hey,
that's a great line!! Can I write that down?" I asked him.
He looked at
me and said "The more we `progress' in this New Millennium,
the more stupid people are created…", making sure he said
the words slow enough for me to write them down on my notepad. We
never got to see Aiza Seguerra, as John Paul got distracted by the
anime store.
--------------
As far as Adam's memory can take him, he'd always wanted to be a
photographer. That dream proved itself to be too expensive, so he
turned to pen and paper for cheaper and faster photo development.
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