Blah etc. and everything else

This is a short story I wrote as a character building (which turned out to be a setting centered) exercise for creative writing class last summer of 2005, it’s tile is ZzZZzZzZZZ

ZzZzZZz
Maureen Hernandez

It’s Wednesday afternoon on exam week, I still have five more exams to take, and half my energy is wasted on the bus ride home. I don’t know why it’s so tiring, maybe because of the people all cramped in such a small space, or the three-seater which actually only seats two and a half, or maybe the oven-like feel of an air conditioned bus during March, but one thing’s for sure, there will always be either a woman who refuses to move further into the seat, or another person falling asleep beside you snoring or ending up resting his/her head on your shoulders. All of this and yet, I endure it, all in the name of “Education”.

I don’t know why my mom refuses to let me live in a boarding house or in a dorm. The beginning of this first semester of freshman year, I almost knelt in front of her to allow me to stay in a dorm, but my paranoid mom would insist, “No, you study at school, but you sleep at home.” So my travel time (total) is three to four hours, a majority of that spent inside a cramped bus. It upsets me because the times I spend traveling, are times when I could be sleeping or studying or playing computer games, but nooooo, my mom won’t have that.

So from school I go to EDSA, where I wait for a bus with a hundred or so people. It’s already

five o’clock

, rush hour, and buses as they are, are hard to come by, especially the bus I get on, which has a route of UE-Letre. After 30 minutes of standing there, cradling my three-kilogram book, looking at people scrambling towards the two and a half foot wide bus door, or taking the ordinary bus instead, I knew that “No, I am not doing that.” Maybe on other days I will scramble, shove, or maybe even step on somebody’s foot, just to get on a bus that I know I’ll end up standing in., but not today, today I finished three almost consecutive major exams, and I expect to spend the 45 minute bus ride sleeping. It beats not sleeping at all, something that I’ll probably do once I get home.

After another 30 minutes, its getting really dark, so against my better judgment, I decide to pursue a different route, I’ll ride a bus to Monumento, and then I’ll take a jeep to Sangandaan, its easier to find a bus going to Monumento, because almost all of the busses passing through EDSA ends up somewhere there. Just then I saw a heavenly sight, an empty (except for about 10 people) bus, with route Monumento -Malanday, I uttered a silent “Thank you Lord” and went on, I sat on the two-seater side and cuddled up to get at least 15 minutes of shut eye.

I passed all my exams, and was about to graduate, I really don’t know why I’m graduating at first year, but hey, that’s fine with me. And as my mom and dad approach me and pat me on the shoulders, my dad says “Miss, gising na dulo na to.” By the time I realize where I really was, it dawned on me, what “Miss, gising na, dulo na to” meant. I overslept. Before I could stop myself, the words,’ “Pero mama, Monumento lang ako”, came out of my mouth. So this guy with all the nerve in the world, had the guts to say “Ah ganun ba miss? Edi kulang ka pa ng sampung piso”, I rolled my eyes and reached for my purse, and realized that, its not there, panic, then distress then “Asan na yung bag ko!?”, then gut guy goes “Ayan kasi tulog ng tulog, sige ok na yung sampung piso mo, baba ka na gagarahe na kami.”
I exited the bus, as if in slow motion, I thought, my readings, my ID, my wallet, my cell phone, the pictures, and finally, where the heck am I?!. “sigh, I am so, lost” At least I still have my three-kilogram book, maybe the guy who took my purse thought it was too heavy.

I walked around looking for something familiar, a recognizable face, anything. I don’t know what time it is, but from the looks of it, it looks like its pretty late, because I already hear the tele-novela theme songs, wafting from the houses that I pass. I was almost into tears, what will I do? Where will I go? How the heck will I ever get home?

I walked a few more steps, and another heavenly sight dawned on me, or maybe it was the headlights, but anyway, it was a white taxi. A taxi, that’s it! I’ll ride a taxi and have it take me home and make my parents pay for the fare, that’s it! Another, thank you Lord, and I hailed the taxi. I told the driver, “

, west, dulo po,

Caloocan

” he nodded and I got in. The aircon, the velvet seats, even the sickly sweet smell of the taxi was more than welcome. I wasn’t lost after all.

Sitting there, as the incidents of the day faded off into the lights of Malanday, (wherever that is) I thought, maybe my day wasn’t so bad, At least I can study for the Physics exam tomorrow, I’ll just borrow my classmate’s readings and photocopy them for the exam on Friday, at least my mom will finally buy me a new cell phone, and maybe, she’ll realize how dangerous it is for me to be going home from school instead of just boarding. Yeah, God will positively open a window on this closed door. Inside the dark interior of the taxi cab, I started to read the signs on the street, Labandera, Aqua Best, Konica, Jollibee… ZzZzZZz.

* this is a fiction piece

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