Beyond her Rubrics Cube and Ginisang Gulay
Nina didn’t see any changes. As she gazed towards their barrio’s bountiful field, she allowed her arms to flail freely through the open window in the warmth of the summer’s day. The heat consumed her body and almost burnt her skin. The panoramic view of towering acacia and bamboo trees beside their kubo were like splendid living replicas of heavenly stairways, along with her garden, countless Gumamelas, Maravillosas and Ilang-ilang shaded in different hues of which she planted three years ago, and was fenced by sun burned bamboo poles and cogon grasses, had bursted into full bloom . Almost everything was at their usual, but not quite.
No room for much admiration because she still have to cook afternoon meal for her sickly father. A steaming ginisang gulay would probably fit for a good meal. As she headed back in the kitchen, she noticed her old Rubric’s cube on top of their almost worn-out rattan couch. Surprisingly, it was perfectly arranged according to colors. It was beautiful. No one would dare to arrange it for there are only two of them inside the kubo. As she was going to inquire him, her father spoke of assertion in low-tone, which was apparently much to her amazement.
“I did it.”
For a moment, both were silent. Nina felt uncomfortable because she was not used to the situation. Her Itay usually denies as of what was accused of him. It was as if a manifestation of probable alteration on his part. She slowly believed him but not until he took a stick of tobacco and lighter from his cargo pants, her notion of him changing gradually became vague.
“Tay, how many times have I told you to quit smoking?”
“Do not mind me! You know that this gives me happiness. Besides, if I’ll be having a hard time breathing again, albularyong Tacio is just a few blocks away. Just turn on the radio and cook our viand.”
His response sounded like their old wrecked Betamax: producing endless, repeated noise. She knew her sermon could not cease him from his addiction. Afraid that one day, her father’s tuberculosis might worsen. If only she had a mother to reprimand him.
Breaking news: an insane woman, about fifty-two years of age died in a road accident this morning.
The radio anchor reported.
She was back to her business in the kitchen. While peeling and slicing the onion and repolyo into strips, the ideation of how her mother cooks ginisang gulay came to her mind. Her Aunt Mira once told her before leaving the barrio for marriage, how her mother cooks ginisang gulay deliciously. At first, Nina was unmindful listening to the news, but not until she cut her left thumb with a sharp knife. Blood came flowing thoroughly like the idea of cooking ginisa in perfection. Perfection like her mother once had.
“Pa, where’s Nanay right now? What’s her real name? I want to see her.”
“I don’t know where your mother is.”
Nina expected that answer. She knew her father don’t want to talk about her. She knows the reason why. All she wanted was to meet her and see how she cooks ginisa perfectly or how she grows Gumamelas, Maravillosas and Ilang-ilang abundantly. But for that moment, it was just an idea meant to be deciphered.
The victim was identified as Chayong Tupaz also known as known as “Burikat Buang” (crazy slut) in Barrio Asuncion. According to the police, the force of a speeding truck hitting the victim was identified as the cause of death.
Nina drew her ear closer to the radio as she pinched her bleeding thumb. The person was familiar to her. And every detail seemed to crush her heart. Her tears flowed out like crystal rain on a hot summer afternoon.
“Turn off the radio. The news is getting senseless.”
“It doesn’t sound senseless ‘Tay. Aren’t you sad? Our Barrio’s entertainer is dead.”
“I don’t care. I think that Prostitute deserve that kind of death.”
“You’re so mean ‘Tay! Just because she’s a Prostitute and mad, she deserves that kind of death? She should be respected fairly like anybody else not because she’s just a woman of any sort but because she’s human.”
“You don’t know Chayong.”
“I know her. I know she bears too much inhumane suffering from this cruel world and my bare eyes and ears can attest to that.”
Her retort immobilized her father’s mouth from arguing back. It was as if the tobacco he inhaled earlier had an immediate terrible after effect on his ailing body that he longed to feel before after his wife left them for his womanizer brother, Edong.. –poisonous, infectious, deadly…
“You really don’t know her.”
He heaved a deep sigh.
“Know who?”
“You really don’t know your mother…”
The weather that day and the fire she made in the stove seemed to conspire and burnt her ginisang gulay. She tasted it. It was terrible and bitter. That’s when she realized that she failed to cook the ginisa perfectly and had to cook again another meal to satisfy her and her father’s hunger that afternoon.
(Structuralism)
