On the summer before my 12th birthday, we got shipped off to San Jose for our annual summer vacation. That was the summer that Tito Nap passed away and we had to attend his funeral. Right after that, Mama and Papa were off to some conference in Geneva. That was the summer I had the mumps. I walked around the house with some dreadful violet pigmented medicine below my jaw line. All the boys avoided me for two weeks. They told me they wanted to have children when they reach adulthood. I was a complete pariah for a couple of weeks of my 2 month summer vacation. To make matters worst, my hair caught fire from some candle during the funeral procession .
That was also the summer I woke up in the room of my Mamang Jo and Papa Ling, where I slept and saw this horrible headless apparition coming towards me. I screamed but no sound came out and the next day I completely lost my voice. I tried to make Manny, my favorite cousin, and Raffy admit that it was just a trick but to no avail. That was the summer I was on the verge of teen hood. That was the summer I fell in love at first sight with my second cousin Dave.
I was already a budding stalker at 11. Early in the morning I would take the tricycle to Tito Angeling’s house and they would feed me breakfast or give me some powdered orange juice to drink. I would leaf through Dave’s yearbook , look at his medals for academic excellence or just hang on to every word my uncle and aunt would tell me about what a great son and student he was. Sometimes, Boy his younger brother who was about my age would take pity on me and actually come out and talk to me. I would go through some of Dave's more erudite term papers with high scores in red that his parents kept. There was a thesis on Socrates which I devoured in its entirety when deep in side me I asked who the heck is Mr.Socrates.
In the meantime, Dave would take his time waking up and grooming, after all it was summer vacation. When he finally emerged from his room, there was only enough time for him to practically gobble up his breakfast, and wave a good bye as he headed off to the plaza to meet his barkada. I didn’t know any better I was still a child after all and I was more than thrilled when he just said hello to me. I didn’t know then that love was returned by the object of one’s affection.
I would then go off to the beach with my cousins , ate halo halo with ube ice cream and corn flakes at Cindy’s or just hang around the gasoline station or ice plant that various aunts and uncles owned. In the afternoon, I would pester Manang Cora to take me to the basketball court near the church to watch the older boys including Dave show off their dexterity shooting hoops to the delight of girls their age. I would take Gani my youngest brother and Jay my cousin who were toddlers and the same age. They were so cute that the girls would come to us and actually pinch their cheeks. I was such a pest I had to admit. And Dave completely ignored my existence. Well not really, when Manang Cora was around he would sort of wave his hand to acknowledge our presence.
Summer ended and we went back to Manila, sunburned and brown from days spent at the beach, chubbier from all the good food served by indulgent relatives and filled with happy childhood memories. And I thought, so much for unrequited love, although I didn’t know then it was that.
Years later when I was about to enter college, Manang Cora and I went to Quiapo on an errand and I saw Dave. He looked very bohemian, like any college student activist of his age and time,with longish wavy hair . He was even more handsome than I remembered. We exchanged shy greetings and all I could do was sigh. By then, I already knew that love was more often than not returned by the object of one’s affection. And I already read up on Mr. Socrates who told his chelas centuries ago, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”
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