Diary 39/The End

Manila Bay Evening

Manila Bay. He walked silently toward the makeshift dwelling of Maria and Elena. Elena was sleeping alone. He crawled like a serpent beside her. "Elena," he whispered. Elena was startled and turned. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Shh", Roberto replied. He gave her thrust against the ground, pressing his hand against her mouth and nose. Elena began to struggle and fight to take off his hand from her face. "This will not take long, it will just hurt a little ," Roberto whispered. "After this, your suffering will be over."

I watched the screen with anger and panic. "I will stop you, Devil," I hissed. I made a step towards the screen, but my feet were glued on the ground: I used all my might to pull them off. One foot took off. I held my breath and gave another effort. The other foot was detached from the ground. Being freed, I threw myself into the screen. In an instant, I was in the scene. I lunged toward Roberto, I pushed his body away from Elena. He did not move... I pulled his hand from her dying face, nothing happened. Roberto was air! How can I stop the wind? I punched his face - my hand struck something solid. I punched again. It was a mask. The mask? It was the only solid thing in him. I snatched it from his face.

The screen stopped, the vision vanished completely.

Elena's almost fainting. Frightened, she stared at me with scared round eyes. I looked at my hand that was covering her mouth and nose. Her body was now almost limp. I withdrew my body from her, "I don't believe this! I don't fucking believe this!" Elena coughed, and suddenly she bagan catching her breath, holding her neck. I covered my face in shock. We were both horrified. Horrifed.

"My God, I am the one doing this! Oh God, I am Roberto Policarpio. I murdered people. Oh God. Oh God."

I threw away the mask I was holding. I ran out. When I was a few yards away, Elena screamed.

I was running, running again; just like in the days of my childhood when running was my only survival. Where to now? Where would I hide? Who would shield me?

In the middle of the night, I found myself inside Paco cemetery. It was cold and dark, the tall reeds swayed and rustled, I heard the faint scamperings of mice, an empty can fell and clang, it jolted me for a second. I heard the buzzing of mosquitoes and the flapping wings of bats. I hid here three years ago.

The place was now more thick, more hideous, more abandoned. Like so many old places and structures in Manila. Some of the tombs had been leveled to the ground, others defied the ravages of time and culture. Broken crosses were lying on the bricks, statues were smashed into pieces. What took over were wild grasss, ferns, plants and flowers, creeping, tunneling in holes. I waded through the thick jungle. I found the old acacia, it was the landmark I used three years ago, the tomb I broke into. It was underneath it. I wished there was a mauseloum somewhere. Good thing it was not raining. I looked up to the sky and saw the moon, bright and full like an angel watching over me. Amazing, the tomb I occupied three years ago still stood. No one touched it since then. This was how low people have become. Life in this city was so hard no one bothered to light candles anymore on All Saionts Day. Who owned the remains inside? No one paid any respect to it anymore. I forced myself through the hole I bore three years ago. Its floor was more coarse, the bones remained in one corner where I left them. In settling down, I hit an object, it fell. What was it? A misplaced bone? I flicked my lighter. What I saw surprised me. A candle inside the tomb? It was even used. Odd... I lighted it. The increasing illumination made my heart beat faster, my body was suddenly soaked in sweat, my head pounded. I've been here... I've been here... a lot of times, and even recently.

A thing in another corner caught my attention. It was the carton box I've been looking for. The box that contained my only treasures, my only link to my origin and past, my fragmented family; it was half-opened. The portraits of my dead parents were pulled out and were neatly placed on the tomb walls, beside the grayish bones of the unknown corpse that owned the tomb.

This was the dark room I saw in my visions. Damn it Roberto, son of a bitch! You used me and my family! I turned the box upside down. What fell confirmed all my fears. All the instruments that Roberto used in comitting his crimes fell out: a long thin needle still bore markks of dried blood; the silver chains that killed Rolando; the plastic bottle that still contained high concentration of sulfuric acid. And the masks - the different masks. And clothes - the barong of finest jusi, the sexy outfit he used in the dance floor, a make - up kit, a broken mirror. How did I get these in? Where did these come from?

Then, I remembered. After I cleaned up Roberto's apartment in E. Quintos, I found a garbage bag in a corner. I decided not to throw it away. I kept it as souveneir. Like his diaries that messed-up my life. How stupid of me. I should have thrown his garbage out, I should have thrown everything about him out.

I decided to remain in the tomb until something came up. I waited for Roberto, I knew it was impossible but I hoped against all hopes that he will show his apparition in public and confess his crimes, to save me. For days, I did not eat and drink and kept waiting for his return. But he never came. After two days and two nights,I became weak and impatient. I was tempted to go straight to the police and confess Roberto Policarpio's ghost did all the crimes. But who would believe me with that crap? How about a plea for insanity. Yeah, an electric chair will still claim me. Especially with the types of people murdered. There was no escape. Roberto was right. If I stopped him, I will die.

On the third night, I made my final decision. I gathered all the shit in my carton box and came out of the tomb toward Manila Bay. It was two o clock in the morning when I arrived at the darkest part of Manila Bay. I sat beside my box and waited. And then, his voice came.

"Antonio?" he whispered.

"Yes." I answered.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Of course."

"Are we still friends?"

"It depends. When will this be over?"

"It's over."

"Fuck, how can you say it's over when I'm still on the run for crimes I didn't commit?"

"I can't stop our destinies."

"What destiny? I am still expecting to graduate from college."

I heard him giggle. "How will you graduate when the police is after your ass?"

"Are you mocking me?"

"No."

"Roberto, listen to me. I will become successful someday. I will beat all the odds. I will find work somewhere and build my own family, I will drive a car, build my own house."

"This city will not give you that."

"Who said I will achieve my dreams in this city?"

"Where will you achieve them?"

"Somewhere... this is my plan. I will swim in the South China Sea. And then when one of the cargo ships from a foreign country passes by, I will tag along. The sailors will take pity on me and they will let me in.

He remained quiet.

"Roberto are you still there?"

"Yes."

"What do you think about my plan?"

"It sounds great."

"Come on, give me a little encouragement."

"Do you still remember what I told you?"

"Which is..."

"I can foresee the future."

"Tell me, what do you see in mine."

"It will be very very beautiful."

"I told you so."

"But it is not the way you planned it."

"Then how would it be."

"I don't want to spoil your excitement."

I opened the carton box and pulled out is contents.

He asked me another question. "Antonio, why did you keep the things I left behind?"

I paused. Somewhat embarrassed. "I thought by keeping them, I'd have something I can call my own."

"All this time you thought you owned me hah?"

"I guess so. I also thought that if I bury your corpse and seal your name on a tomb, I will have something to visit for the rest of my life."

"I'm just curious, how would you eulogize me when you bury me?"

"I'd say: You were a kitten thrown in the middle of a restless street, a hatched bird flown on a desert land, left all alone. When the city's feet stepped on you, when sand storm covered you, no one bothered to protect you. I am your friend who said hello as quickly as goodbye. I wish you stayed a little longer. You chose to leave early, while I go on my own way. Yes, I will travel from here to other places and meet other people. I will see roses bloom and grass grow. On all Saints' Day, I will bring you flowers of remembrance. Just don't be saddened if they wither after touching you. Like you they are meant to die."

I saw tears flowing from his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

I began throwing the contents of the box into the water. He watched me. Afterwards, I opened my knapsack and pulled out his diaries. I thanked him for letting me read them.

"You haven't read my suicide letter yet." he said. I opened the page.



January 5, 1990

Whoever You Are,

I don't know if I am right in writing this letter, someone may find it funny but I don't care anymore. I will be gone, just like my days of isolation and loneliness. I venture into unknown to acquire peace and silence. During my life, I wandered with no destination, everything I created was illusion. I thought I was a rebel, I thought I defied all odds to succeed. I didn't realize I was the biggest conformist of all. This was how I spent my life: I placed myself in a cage. In that cage, I closed my eyes and pretended I was as free as an eagle; I spoke for the sake of speaking; I acted for acceptance; I suffered so I could belong. I did not dare to be different. I wanted to be like everyone. So I failed. Who really cares? Truth is sometimes hard to swallow. Once you see red and wish it were blue, your dream will not come true. For our world is fixed in its ways, stiff,inflexible.

God, in his great omnipotence has given Man a mind that extends beyond unimaginable limits. But Man, in his selfish desire to control his world confined it according to the limits of his senses. That is why I hate Aristotle - he was the first to classify everything according to his limited knowledge. Thanks to him, we now talk of Kingdom of Animals and Plants and Microbes. Of living things and non living things. Of males and females. So that when I existed, I found myself out of classification, I lived in an illusion, switching from here to there, living in an either-or, neither-nor world.

To cope up, I wore a mask. But despite countless masks, I still did not belong. I am tired of the masquerade so I bid farewell.

Listen to what I say now, these are the words of a dying man: It is not true that a day is made up of light and darkness alone. There is the dawn, noon, twilight.The color of the rianbow is not limited to two colors, somewhere in between there are other hues, all equally beautiful. The heart of man can't be fixed likewise - there is the heart of a child, of a woman, of a man and somewhere in between which is just as noble, as human, as important.

All my life, I refrained from explianing myself, afraid I would be despised. I communicated only in most earthly ways. I used my body, my face, my hands, my tongue. Yes, I lived a wild life. It is my fervent wish to have someone realize I am capable of loving that wish did not come true in my lifetime.

May God in his great mercy forgive me. I wore a mask before him too. Who am I to face him? I am a dog unworthy of holy food, a pig wallowing in the mire.

I am condemend as a creature of the lesser earth, from lesser forefathers, with lesser inheritance. I may be a perfect example of success: a doctor, a model, but I have no self.

So I leave asking Humanity why I deserve hell for being unfit? Man could have blinded me, lamed me, dumbed me, killed me the day I was born, perhaps that way, his guilt would make him kindlier, gentler, and more understanding with me.

After reading all my diaries, I beg you not to keep them. It is enough to have someone hear my life's complaints. When you are through, throw them to the water where I left the earth.





After reading his suicide letter, I tore the pages of Robert's diaries into pieces and threw them to Manila Bay waters with all my mementos. For a brief moment magic was woven on them as they swam together and smiled before fading.I jumped off the seawall and dipped myself in the water, the water was warm, I let myself float. At once, a ship like diamond rolled before me. Its glittering lights were reflected by the white bits and pieces of paper, masks, photographs, all the things I owned, floating, all surrounding me in a circle, all fading.

"Roberto, there goes the ship. I've got to catch it." I smiled.

He would not stop crying, "Antonio, take care of yourself."

I waddled my legs and slowly swam.

"Antonio." he called again.

I turned to look at him. A different feeling came into me. It was the feeling of loss.

"Oh Roberto, you're too dramatic."

He sat on the seawall. "Antonio, do you remember what I asked you the first time we met?"

"No, I don't."

"I asked you about the last line in Tennessee William's A Streetcar Named Desire, 'Whoever you are, I've always depended on the kindness of strangers.'"

The feeling of loss was becoming real now. Like I'd never see him again. I wanted to cry. But I continued to swim. "I'll try to remember that." I hollered back.

"Antonio," he called the third time.

I stopped, my heart was sinking low. It was the last time I heard his voice.

He said: "I will remember you from eternity to eternity, on my flight from here to the moon, to different galaxies. When New Year's come, I will be along the bay watching the fireworks in the sky thinking of you; when Valentine's day comes and lovers renew their devotions to one another, I will sing you a love song; when Lenten comes and our people remember the death of Christ, I will kneel in a church and pray for you; when All Saints' Day is celebrated and people visit their departed ones in cemeteries, I will throw roses on this bay in remembrance of you; when Christmas comes and I hear the clanging of church bells for midnight mass, I will walk on the streets of Manila singing you a Christmas song. Forever, Antonio, forever. I love you because you are the kindest stranger I've ever met; the only friend I could ever have; I will never find another one like you. I may never see you again."

I took a last look at the city of Manila. I tried to fix it in my mind. From left to right - Manila Hotel, Luneta with Jose Rizal, the Grandstand, Army Navy Club, American Embassy, the Philippine Navy, The Cultural Center of the Philippines. This is my Manila Bay. This is my city. This is my country. This is my people. This is all I have. I just knew that when I go I'd never come back. I swam again, I'd swim until reaching the cargo ship.

Alex Maskara