by Ardy and Dave

And Mary Joy asked me again: “Eighty na ka mam?” 

“Unsa kadto to, Mary Joy? Dili kaayo madungog.” I said.

I really kept the question hanging in our January 31, 2021. I say “hanging”  because I did not bother to answer it. I allowed the question to float on air hoping that it would be gone with the wind. I pretended I did not hear it. The question was like the sword of Democles above my head – a sword that would anytime fall and would open Pandora’s box. Pandora’s box? Yes, Pandora’s box because there are a lot of interpretations about my age. Inday Luneta Sr, my helper, tells me that I look like I am 50 years old. And she has been maintaining this number for 10 years now, since the time she arrived at home. Ug kwentahon, 60 plus gihapon.  My associates would tell me, I am between 50 and 60 years old – period. My two grandchildren, every time they would come to ask me for something, would jibe with my wish to remain 35. 

I was amused at my own thoughts. It was Dr. Macuno who broke my musings when she shouted in a jester’s voice and asked, “Eighty ka na ma’am Ardy?” The question moved everyone to a loud laughter. Even Mary Joy and Laura laughed heartily. With the lightness of the group’s mood, I whispered something to Dave as we started to go outside again.

I told Dave, “Just imagine how many years were added to my age just now. After having listened to the unfinished story of Mary Joy, I grew fast and aged fast.” 

Dave answered. “Tinuod gyud ma’am. Makagutom ang kaagi ni Mary Joy. Maka haw-ang ug tiyan. Gigutom ko ma’am.”

I said, “Unya dili na nato tiwason ni? Ato na ning biyaan? Naa ta’y mission. Tabangan nato si Mary Joy. Unya mukalit lang ta ug pauli? Naluya baya pud ko, Dave oy. Makaluya gyud ang pagpaminaw sa nahitabo. Ug labaw pang makaluya nga otsenta (80) na ko.”

Dave said, “Wala ka maka get over, ma’am, sa age issue?”

I answered by saying, “C’mon, Dave, you know me better than what you said. Gamahay ka, nga miabot ta dinhi, Dave?”

Dave answered, “Of course, not, ma’am. The invitation of Dr. Macuno was very sincere and worth the trip. She invited us to be here and see for ourselves the condition of Mary Joy.”

“That is true and if we surrender simply because we have become weak of what we heard, that makes us hypocrites to our career as media people. Dave, we should be happy that we are better off than other people, like the family of Mary Joy. For a very young girl to experience the ordeal, I would say that Mary Joy has a mission in life. I don’t know,” I said.

“Maayo gani ma’am no kay happy kaayo atong arrival ganiha sa didto ta sa balay ni Mayor Necitas Cubrado. Guapo kaayo ilang balay ni Mayor Cubrado, Ma’am no?” Dave said.

“Yes, and Mayor Cubrado is a very nice person. Seeing her for the first time, I could say that she’s kind and accommodating. And look at the expensive plants in her living room. I understand that one of those plants costs P50,000.00. The other one, I heard, costs more than P30,000.00,” I said. 

Our conversation was interrupted by our driver who said that Mary Joy was looking for us. So we went back to the hut.  Mary Joy was sitting on the floor with her wrists wrapped with bandages. Balik na pud mi. Mura man ug gilubatan ko. Seeing her made me weak again. I wanted to curl in my bed and escape from that sight. Suddenly my phone sounded indicating a text message. It came from Dave. I looked at him and wanted to ask what the message was all about since he was just seated across me. But I could not do it anymore since, we were again convened in the hut and it was very embarrassing for me to disturb the tempo of our feelings. 

But, without making it obvious, I read Dave’s message. It said, “Ma’am, I can’t help the feeling, but, I am very sorry for Mary Joy. I was expecting to see a girl without hands as I already knew beforehand what happened to her. However, I did not expect to see scars on her head, on her shoulders and almost on every part corner of her frail body – all over. Kahilakon ko ma’am. Tinuod bitaw ma’am. Mura ug misaka akong bp, ma’am.”

I glanced away from Many Joy and saw through the corner of my eye that Dave was uneasy as he tried to gather himself upon seeiing the scars all over Mary Joy’s body. I stared at him and he understood that I did not welcome his text message. 

I looked again at Mary Joy. Her hair was short – shorter than the boycut style. I learned that the nurses at the Governor Celestino Gallares Memorial Hospital (GCGMH) had to cut her hair. This was part of the  treatment process when she was brought to the hospital following the hacking incident.

And it became clearer to me that Mary Joy’s voice was barely audible at times. She might have appeared pensive most of the time, but when she would look at a newcomer, her eyes seemed to scrutinize the purpose of the visit. 

“Kahibaw ra ba na siya mo draw,” Dr Macuno said.

I didn’t want to believe. How could a girl with no hands hold the coloring pens and the drawing book and what not? 

“Kahibaw lagi na siya mo draw, ma’am Ardy,” Dr Macuno insisted.

“Tinuod, Mary Joy? Kahibaw ka mo draw?” I asked.

Mary Joy looked at me blankly. And I could see again some tears wanting to fall on her face. Ngano mang kahilakon na man pud siya? I looked for Dave as I wanted to have some answers to my questions. Dave didn’t respond.

I looked back at Mary Joy and she looked at me – differently this time. Is she angry at me? Is she remembering something? Is she tired? Her eyes focused on me. I was a bit scared. Did I do something wrong? Did I ask something harsh? Did I commit a mistake? (To be continued)