"Alone?" I asked Paul while I walked toward the rectangular plot. I can see that Flavus' and Paul's detention turned this rooftop into something more. It has been clean and organized with the garden tools on the side of the plot where the garden was supposed to be.
Paul looked at me. "Why are you here sir?" he asked instead of answering my question. I can't blame him, though, it was very late in the afternoon, but the sun was still up.
"I wanted to see your garden," I said, glancing at the plants sprouting in the soil. "I see there are sprouts already," I added.
"Yeah, I thought they will never grow so I stopped going here, but Flavus always invites me to be here and keep the plants watered. And I'm kinda disappointed because it was the first time the sprouts appear and yet he was not here," he stated, pulling out some unwanted weeds growing.
"So, where is he?" I asked again.
"I don't know Sir. I've texted him but I haven't received a response yet," he said simply.
"Is he always like that?"
"Like what?" He said, throwing an unexpected look at me.
"Not responding to message."
"No, he's not like that at all. He always messages me back, maybe he was just busy, and besides, the detention is done right?"
"Yeah, but you still have to take care of this garden."
"We will, of course," he said, then looked at the sunset.
The setting sun cast tall shadows on the trees from the field, and the clouds were once again painted with an orange hue. Our faces were lit up by the warm orange light.
"I think we have to go now, shall we?" I suggested since the reason why I came here isn't present.
"I think I'll stay for a little more," Paul said, not looking at me.
Then I came to think that he wasn't here just for the garden. He was here for something else.
"You're not here just for the flowers, right?" I said, and he looked at me, confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, arching one of his brows.
I walked towards the rooftop's edge and lined my arms on the railing where I faced the setting sun.
"I can see it in your eyes, Paul. The garden isn't the only thing you looked forward to when you get here," I said.
I can hear him walking toward me.
"Is it that obvious?" he asked, looking down.
"Hmmm, no. I guess not," I retorted. "Maybe it just happened that I have this ability to look into people. I can tell when something was off."
"And you see that now?" he asked, almost sounding like sarcasm.
"No," I simply answered.
"Then what do you see making you say that?"
"I see other reasons. If the garden was the only reason why you get here every day, maybe you'll decide to be here earlier and not waste your time waiting for the sunset right?" I said matter-factly. "But you didn't, you wait till it's almost sunset before you got here and stay even if your duty is done."
He looked at me and then glanced back at the garden before letting out a contented sigh, then looking back at me frowning, but with a hint of departure in his eyes.
"The garden is my first reason," he said. "I used to make it a priority every day and now I realized I could afford to take time for myself."
"Why is that?" I looked at him. "What is it that bothers you?"
"No, Sir. Nothing's bothering me. It's just I've been missing someone lately," he said, melancholy evident in his voice.
The wind suddenly feels heavy, making me think about Flavus out of nowhere.
"And do you mind if I ask who is this someone?"
"Not at all. It was a friend. Who's very dear to me. But I messed up, and now he's gone," I didn't say anything. I just sighed. Relieved that the person he was talking about wasn't the one in my mind.
"We all make mistakes..."
"And it's all part of who we are," he snorted while saying the line.
"Hey, that's my line," I said, shocked at how he knew that.
"I know, Sir. You always said that every year at general orientation," he said, still smiling.
"I can't believe you actually listen to my speech."
"I don't have a choice, Sir."
The sun had almost entirely set now, and the wind was getting chilly again, so I decided that its time for me to go.
"Well, I guess I need to go then. What about you?"
"I'll stay for a little while, Sir," He looked at me, and I saw that his eyes were not sad anymore. It was more simple and more direct.
"Okay then. I'll see you around," I said, then descended the stairs.
On my way to my office, I see Ms. Acosta. I wondered why she was still here.
"Good evening Ma'am," I greeted her.
"Mr. Gray, why are you still here?" I kinda expect that she would ask that.
"I just, did a couple of things, what about you?"
"Same thing, you know. Paperworks," she said smiling.
"Hmmm, I see,"
"So, are you heading out Mr. Gray?" she asked.
"Yeah, what about you? Do you have someone with you?"
"Actually, no. But I'll be fine don't worry," she said, then turned around and continued walking.
"No. I mean, we can go together if you don't mind. I'll just get my things in my office."
"Okay, sure I'll wait for you here."
I went straight to my office, and while I put some paperwork inside my bag, I saw Flavus' file. It had been at my table for a while, and I forgot about it because it was under the documents I had these past few days.
Once again, I scanned it. I saw softly read his name, "Flavus Kree De San Juan," and below his contact details are written together with his class schedule. I just looked at it and hesitated if I should call him or not, but the next thing I knew was saving his phone number.
"Mr. Gray?" Ms. Acosta almost made me jump, calling out of nowhere. "You took so long, I thought you forgot about me," she added jokingly.
"No. I'm just having a hard time deciding which report should I take home you know," I reasoned.
"Ugh, of course, I know. So shall we go?"
"Yeah, let's go."
"So, how's he?" she asked as we walked along the university road under the vast, huge trees swaying with the howling wind.
"Who?" I asked.
"Mr. De San Juan," she said.
"Huh? I don't know. Why would you ask me?" I said defensively, which I regret instantly.
"Hey, what's with the defensive tone? I thought he was under your care?" she said, her brows meeting in the middle of her forehead.
"I..." I tried to reason, but no words came out of my mouth.
"What I mean is, he was absent in my class today, so I opt to ask you since you said that he was under your care," she explained, making me feel dumber as to why I reacted like that.
"Ah, yeah, that. Well, I still don't know," I replied simply, but she still gave that "I don't. believe you" look, but before she said anything, a white car stopped in front of us.
"You took so long," Ms. Acosta said as soon as the window rolled down. And I was honestly expecting to see a man inside, but instead, I saw a woman. Based on her look, she was just about the same age as Ms. Acosta.
"I lost track of time, sorry," she said. "You don't need to complain, by the way. You have a companion there," the woman added, eyeing me with a teasing smile.
"Yeah, this is Mr. Gray, our guidance counselor. Mr. Gray, this is my sister," she said.
"Good evening, nice to meet you," I said.
"So common, I'll give you a ride," Ms. Acosta's sister offered, but the dorm is just a few steps away, so I declined.
"No it's fine, I live just around here."
"You sure?"
"His dorm was just across the road, right Mr. Gray?"
"Yes, so I'll better get going. Take care you two."
"Okay, thanks good night."
Then they went speeding away.
I went inside the elevator and immediately dialed Flavus' number but couldn't reach it. I looked at the number and thought that maybe it wasn't his number after all. He may just put random numbers that's why I can't contact him.
The elevator dings and I went out and went straight in front of my room, holding the doorknob. I can't explain what got in me that I seem unable to turn it. I look around and find myself walking toward the other room. I stand there, still can't decide if I should do it or not.
"You're just asking why he was absent, that's all. Why are you so anxious about it," I nagged myself.
I am still standing there. And before I started wondering what the true reason I was doing this was, I knocked. But no one answered, so I knocked again, and still no response. I held the doorknob and unknowingly turned it. To my surprise, it wasn't locked. The lights were off, and I couldn't muster the courage to go inside uninvited.
"Flavus?" I called, but the room remained still and silent.
Slowly I stepped inside nervously, eyeing my way around the room. It was just like my room but with a different arrangement. On my left stands a sizeable see-through panel with a large slanted window. Moving down, I saw the closet and door next to it, probably the bathroom.
On my right stand a rectangular table, only about two or three meters long, just enough for two people to sit on. My eyes settled a bit further forward on the wall on the left side. Just to the left of the window was a portrait, A family portrait, but I'm not so sure because the only light source was from the open door.
"Flavus?" I tried again, only now I couldn't stop myself from calling his name, but there was no response, and I was starting to get anxious. My legs gave way to me, but I had to know. I need to know what's going on with him.
I took a few steps that had me standing in the middle of an almost empty space except for some boxes. I make my way toward the portrait and scan it. Seeing it closely countered my inference that it was a photograph because it was a painting.
There were four people in the painting, the man appears to be around his mid-thirties, and he had very thick dark hair that completely covered his ears. His lips were wide yet lined with dark lines like he had been smoking for so long. His eyes were also black, but it gives a sense of a strong vibe. He was half smiling, but the smile seemed like it was forced. While the lady sitting in the chair in front of him appears to be about many years younger. The only thing I could focus on was her eyes; they were painted with a hint of brown and a yellow outline. I'm not sure if that was the real color of the eyes or if it was a mistake of the artist. On his right-hand side stands a boy, maybe ten to twelve years old, and on the other side, another boy, probably older than the one on the right. I saw behind them, in the background, a house. It was a brick house, but I couldn't tell if it was in the city or somewhere in the province. The man and the lady first captured my attention, but now, I turned to the younger child. Seems familiar somehow.
I lost my balance and almost hit the floor, but I managed to catch my balance before completely losing it. But that's when the lights came on. I was shocked and stumbled backward when I saw the object ambushing me. It was Flavus. He was wearing a worn-out white shirt and shorts. His hair had ruffled, a sign that he had just gotten out of bed, and on his hand was a baseball bat.
"Hey hey hey! Stop. It's me, Mr. Gray," I said before he had the chance to hit me.
He squinted his eyes and finally realized who I was.
"Mr. Gray? What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, putting down the bat.
"I'm sorry I barged in without permission. I knocked but no one answered and you left your door unlocked," I explained.
"So why are you here, Sir? What do you want at this hour?" he asked. I sense a slight gasp in his voice as he says that, increasing the worries I'm feeling.
"I was told that you didn't go to any of your classes today, so I decided to check on you since we're just a unit away," I said.
"Ah, that. Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling well since I woke up this morning, and ahh!" he winced and couldn't continue his words.
"Hey, are you okay?" I rushed towards him. He was hot to the touch. I felt his forehead, and he was really burning as well.
"I'm okay, just a little fever," he said, but his face says otherwise.
"Did you take medications?" I asked.
"No, I just woke up," he said weakly.
"How long are you asleep?"
"Hmm, since morning," as he said that, his stomach growled loudly.
"And I assume you haven't eaten anything yet right?" he nods.
"Aghh. It will only get worse if you're going to be like that," I said while guiding him toward his bed.
"Hmm," he said as he laid back in his bed, constantly massaging his forehead.
"Hey, you stay here okay, I'll just go and get something on my unit, and I'll be right back."
"You don't have to," he said softly. But I completely ignored it and went straight to my room. I changed my clothes first and headed to the kitchen, where I got instant noodles and fever medicine. I also take my thermometer to monitor the temperature.
A couple of seconds later, I was back at his side. His eyes were shut, but I knew he was awake.
"Hey, I'm going to use your kitchen, okay? Then you'll eat so you can take medicine," I explained. It was strange doing this, caring for a person with a fever. This was a first for me, but the stranger thing is that I seem to know what I need to do. "Here, put it under your arm and tell me when it beeps," I continued, handing him the thermometer.
After some moments, I came back to his bed with hot noodles. "Here, eat this, okay?" I said, putting down the bowl on the table beside the bed and then helping him hold his head as he sat up to eat. I checked the thermometer and saw that his temperature was indeed high, 38.1 degrees Celcius.
"I can do it on my own," he said.
"Yes, I know. I'm just helping you not to spill it," I pointed out. He nodded and finally ate with some assistance. I knew the medicine won't work if he didn't eat. I stared at him while he ate, and he looked so exhausted. He only got some energy back when he took sips of the noodle soup, and it seemed like he wanted more. "Eat it all. It's for you only," I said as I brought him more noodles from the kitchen.
After he was done eating, I got the fever medicine and fetched a glass of water.
"Take this, it will help with the fever," he looked at me first before hesitantly reaching for the pill.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"I... I can't swallow pills," he murmured.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"I said I can't do it. The pills I don't know how to," he said shyly while I was trying my best not to laugh.
"But how do you do it before? I mean you have taken a pill before don't you?"
"I did but one time it got stuck in my throat and I don't want that to happen again."
He went quiet for a second, then he spoke.
"So mom crushed it on a spoon then add a little water so that I can take it," he continued.
"Okay, give me a second then," I snatched the pill in his hand and headed back to the kitchen. I got a spoon, crushed it just like he said, then put it in another spoon and headed back to the room.
"Here, I crushed it for you. You just need to add the water," I said. He was still strangely looking at me, so I asked. "Is there anything I need to do?"
"No Sir, It's just... I don't want to be rude but, why are you doing this?" with this question, I also came asking myself. It's indeed strange that I'm doing this; it's close to unnatural, I mean... me, taking care of a student in his room.
"I don't know. It's not like I'm good at it. I just felt like I needed to," I answered, and he nodded.
"Thank you," he then took the spoon and a sip of the water before swallowing the medicine.
"Is it tasty?" I asked, smiling.
"Hmm, bitter."
"Well, you should have taken it with milk," I teased.
He just scoffs and lays back on his bed. I noticed that his forehead was beaded with sweat, so I went out to get cold water and drenched my own handkerchief.
"Hey, come here," I said. He was looking confused but still did what I said. "This should help lower your temperature," I wiped his sweaty forehead and let the damp handkerchief stay there.
"I remembered my mom," Flavus said softly while staring at the ceiling. I didn't respond. I just kept on looking at him. I can't find the right words to say. "She used to take care of my brother like this. Rob was always sick when we were young," he continued, then paused. Seems like wanting me to respond.
"How old is your brother?" I asked.
"He was a year older than me. Exactly a year older. We shared the same birthday," he said with sadness evident in his soft voice, and I think I knew why. It's a sad story to tell. And want to stop him and let him rest, but I want to know how he felt about that.
"Isn't it fun, having to celebrate your birthday with your brother?" I asked.
"Yeah, at first," he paused for a while. "But I was stupid and selfish," he sighed.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I asked again, but he didn't speak. Maybe he was anxious about me watching him.
"I'll tell you, but you have to do something first, Sir," he said, now looking at me.
"What is it?"
"You have to turn your back on me and let me play with your hair," he earnestly told me.
"Why?" I exhaled out of curiosity.
"I used to do it with my mom whenever I had to confess something. She told me that I could be more honest when no one was looking, but she was worried that I would try to run, so she let me play with her hair, and it became my habit," as he said those words, I could sense the loneliness and the guilt he felt.
"The lady in the portrait, she's your mother, right?" again, he didn't give a verbal response. Instead, he just nods, so I turn my back, sit on the floor beside his bed and lie on my back.
"I want you to also be honest with me, starting now."
I stayed that way, maybe for about two minutes, then felt his hands on my hair.
"I always thought that I hate Rob so much but now I realized that hatred wasn't what I felt. It was envy," I can feel his breath starting to get heavy.
"How do you say so?" I asked again. I'm actually relieved that he isn't getting annoyed by my questions.
"We were close before, so close actually. Everything that he did, he do it with me. We were inseparable. We used to sneak out whenever our parents were busy. We would go to this river or to the lake and play with other kids. He taught me to swim while we dive to find different colored rocks underwater. We catch small fish and crabs and even small shrimp. We were happy. Genuinely happy. We were being kids. Until we're not anymore. When my father entered politics, everything changed. He always takes Rob with him and I can't understand it," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I thought I was being ignored by the family so I did bad things to him. I caused him trouble. We became distant and we aren't even talking, we're just like strangers living under the same roof," he said heavily.
"But did you ever want to talk to him again?"
"I don't know, I haven't thought about it."
"One time I lied to my father when he asked me where Rob was and I said that he went barhopping with his friends even if they have their class. My father was furious about that, he said it would not be good for his image so he scold Rob without even hearing his explanation," he was still playing with my hair, combing it with his fingers.
"Did you ever apologize to him?"
"I wanted to... I swear I wanted to every single day, but doing that would be impossible right now," he said with another sigh. I also felt his hand wasn't combing my hair anymore. He was just pinching a part of it. "He killed himself the night after that..." he continued. Then there was this deafening silence that enveloped the whole room. I didn't move or speak; I let him softly play with my hair.
"Do you talk about this with your mother or your father?"
"No. I can't. I can't talk to them. My room was just beside his', and there was a moment that night when he hanged himself when I was standing outside his door, but I was too selfish. A huge coward to apologize because I know that my father would not let it slide that I lied to him," in-between his sentences, I heard soft sobs and deep breaths he made, but I didn't dare to look at him. "After the burial, we haven't been talking, my mom, my dad, and me. The first breakfast was the worst morning for me. Even though we were there, Mom, Dad, and Me, the breakfast was so silent that my eardrums would explode. We didn't talk about it. And I can't sleep well every night. I always see his hanged figure in every dark corner of my room. It became like that for a long time until it was my norm. Not talking, barely sleeping, and pretending that nothing is wrong."
Then there was silence.
"Flavus, do you believe in God?" I finally asked.
"I don't know. It's so hard for me to believe in something anymore," he replied straight.
"What do you think happens after death then?" I wanted to know what he thinks about it.
"I don't know, maybe good people go to heaven, and those who are bad go to hell?"
"Right. No one is ever sure what happened after we die except for the fact that we would have to leave people behind. And after you die then what would you want people to remember you?"
"I don't know, something beautiful maybe. Something that stirs other people's hearts to do good. But I know not that many people will remember me," I looked at him as he said that and saw his face shining with tears.
"Most of the things that you remembered with your brother were good and happy ones, and you even wanted to be good at last," I said. "I'm not saying what you did was right, but it was done, and we cannot change it. What matters the most is what you did after that," I continued, still looking at him.
He didn't respond for almost a minute, then he spoke. "What about you? Don't you want people to remember you?" he asked, wiping his tears.
"I don't want to be remembered," he looked confused.
"But that was impossible," he said. "If you died I would certainly be remembering you. I would remember this moment. I would remember you."167Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlCvmjB7JVv
