By Ardy & Dave
My secretary, Ruth, looked at me. She guessed why I was in tears. She scribbled some notes on her mobile phone, and gave me the signal to look at my phone and read the message she sent me.
As a browsed the words on my phone screen, Ruth guessed it right. She knew why I cried. And as I read her message, I cried some more – silently.
Dave noticed again the “rain” on my face. He asked again, why.
I was brave and definite that this time I will answer him.
I told Dave softly but firmly, “Gusto gyud ka nga mahibaw nganong gahilak ko? Sigurado ka? Dili kaha ko nimo duyugan sa akong mga luha?. Galing ug mas kusug pa ang mga agas sa imong luha kay sa akoa. Dili kaha ka magmahay ug mahibaw ka? Andam ka na? Andam ka na gyud?
Dave just nodded as he seemed to be excited in anticipation. When I started looking for a private place where I could share with Dave, what Mary Joy whispered to me, Dr. Macuno called our attention. She wanted us to get ready as we were homeward bound. My conversation with Dave was interrupted. There was no more time to share confidentialities; it was time to go home.
How soon time flies. It seemed as though we just arrived at Mary Joy’s house and now it was time to go home. Before I could move and get my things, i suddenly recalled the story conference conducted by Dr. Macuno a day before our trip to Pilar.
Dr. Macuno met with Dave and I for a story conference prior to our trip to make us familiar with the “mission” we were about to start.
In that story conference held at The Figaro, we were told about the tragedy that happened to Mary Joy. I was very unattached to the story, the first time I heard it. To me, it was just one of those impossibilities that could happen to a person. One in a million, they say.
Yet, right in front of us, that morning of November 30, 2020, when we were already at Pilar, was a revelation of a reality – the reality of a tragedy victimizing a very young girl in the person of Mary Joy.
Dave broke my silence again as Mary Joy approached us and invited us back to her house. We obliged to her invitation and this time, I toured myself inside the kitchen, the room, the surroundings and the entire “world” of Mary Joy.
“Daku lagi mo ug tv, Mary Joy,” I said.
Ah, gibutang na diha kay aron kuno mi malingaw ug makalimot sa hitabo,” Laura intervened.
“Naa man lagi pud moy karaoke, or, videoke,” I continued.
“Oh kay ganahan man lagi na si Mary Joy mosayaw,” Laura again answered.
“Naa moy radio, Mary Joy? Mga magsisibya ra ba mi ni Sir Dave. Ug naa moy radio makapaminaw mo namo. Tawagon mo namo kanunay sa among radio program,” I said proudly.
“Madungog ba ning DYTR dinhi? Kay ug madungog amo jud mo nga tawgon kanunay,” I quipped.
Then we heard a voice answering from nowhere.
“Mao lagi na siya,” a male’s voice said.
We looked around. I could not see anybody.
“Maminaw man ko ana niya. Iya jud nang tingog lagi, Maudto ug palis man nang iyang program,” the male voice continued, yet, we did not seet him.
“Kinsa man to Dave? Mura lagi siya ug dako ug tingog. Wala man ta makakita ug lalalki ani ganiha, di ba? Asa man siya? Daku lagi iyang boses,” I asked Dave showing some form of fear as to the identity of the owner of the voice.
Dave also looked around and insisted he saw no one. I started to entertain some fears. Is he around? Is he freed from prison? Is he on bail? Is he coming with a vengeance? Is he angry at us for our “intervention”? These were the questions in my mind.
Then I silently asked Dave: “Hala kinsa man to Dave? Nganong mitan-aw man ka naho? Pareha ta ug hunahuna? Nia siya? Nakagawas na siya?”
I held on tightly to Dave and leaned on Ruth who was just behind me. We really looked around and could not see any man. I softly asked again Dave: “Nganong nahilum man sila? Kinsa man to lagi? Daku-a man to ug tingog? Nganong imposing man siya nangutana? Nganong nakaila man siya nako? Dave, nahadlok ko!” (To be continued)