How the sand tasted like Peach Mango Pie.
And what binds 12 earth years and 12 minutes ago?
A memory. Some memories, perhaps, that I never thought that could and would unearth,(un-mars, or un-venus, whichever), themselves in a very unlikely moment.
And all because of the sight of bags of gravel and sand near our house. Obviously, someone's moving in.------------------------------------------------------------------------------Because of the unusual heat that day, I decided to go outside the house, to the playground, and go busy myself with my usual playmates, some rocks, a few wedge-shaped and globular stones, bottles of 7-up's. I had no friend when I was little, which was of no problem for a 7-year old boy like me. I usually play with my twin brother, or worst, with my elder siblings. What could be worse than having your big brothers manipulating your every move, and not having the freedom to choose trash and dirty stuff over toys. Of course, I'd readily choose the former ones.O child, how curious you must be.The playground was quite empty. No other kid around. The place was all mine.Put some sand into the bottle, and the stones. Whatever.'Twas fun anyway.Oblivious to me, someone was also there. A little girl. Turns out, she owned the bottles. But she was kind enough to share them with me. There were no instant conversations. Just plain fooling around with bottles.And stones. And sand.She was a constant playmate. Though sometimes, I could see her mingling with other kids around, she never abandoned our territory. With the sands.That was vacation. Then schooldays started.. And along with it, the rain.------------------------------------------------------------------------------Back in Pasig, La Immaculada Concepcion School was a good school. My parents thought it is. And probably, so did her parents. And why is that? We became classmates. After sometime, we were friends. Next thing we knew, she was the first bestfriend outside the family I had, or so I remembered. She was there when our teacher gave me a mild scolding for not winning the spelling bee."Bakit ka pinagalitan ni Ma'am?""Natalo ako sa quiz bee e. Mali ung spelling ko ng huling word. ""Anong word?"(The word then was bouquet. I wrote it in my little chalkboard)"Mali ako e. Akala ko Vocay.""ano kaya yan?""Hindi ko din alam.Hindi tinuro ni ma'am."I was there, too, for her when there were rumors about a headless priest showing up in the girl's restroom. It seemed credible, after all, the school was run by religious men. I escorted her to the CR, and we bravely fought our fears, just for her comfort. That was scary, I can still remember 3 cubicles with their doors painted with a white cross.We exchanged foods most of the time, and sometimes, her food was more palatable than mine, and I'd run to the next room to share it my twin brother. And sometimes, we'd wait for my service van to arrive, and for any reason, I couldn't recall how we'd spent the spare time.But I guess, good things end. She became closer with her girl pals. There was Princess Ann Ramos, who is the ultimate crush in the room, and they became BFF's. I was, on the other hand, enjoyed myself with a fat boy I remember as Benedict, and a kid who looked like the "Prince". You know, the singer.I was a grade one student at that time. And I stayed a kiddo there, who stayed for a year. We had to move to our present place now. Muntinlupa. There were no goodbyes. We just passed, and nobody noticed.And so, no pains. ------------------------------------------------------------------
I got myself some grains of sand. How fine they were. In its texture, and in color. But it was hot too, maybe because of the sun's glare.Thanks, Paula for the bottles, and the sand. And for making my stay in our section, Peach Mango Pie, an enjoyable one.
