The Story of Summer (Ch. 2): A Secret

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Ch. 1:

They’ve just finished eating their dinner—rice with soy sauce and kalamansi. The official Young Hero food (pizza) is not on the menu today. They're all sad. They don’t feel like they’ve ‘saved the day.'

Their six-foot television screen is turned on to News TV. The show is State of the Nation with Jessica Soho.

Derek plumps on the sofa, unsatisfied with the taste of the food he has eaten; but still, nevertheless, filled. He comments, “She’s so… healthy.”

Neil, though finding the comment amusing, ignores and listens to what Jessica has to say.

“Two people were spotted dead at EDSA after the attack of a mini robot this afternoon… Two bodies, a mother and what seems to be her child, were found smashed under electricity posts…”

Derek purses his lips. Neil locks his jaws, not minding that his clenched teeth have scraped his cheeks. He only relaxes when he tastes blood.

“But,” Jessica continues, “the authorities have confirmed that the corpses found were already days, probably even a week old…”

Derek doesn’t let Jessica finish her report and screams—like a man, of course. Well, not really. More like a boy who just won a jobos-dipped chick from a kariton vender for only a peso at fiesta. Neil’s lips form a sweet smile.

“Guys?” The boys have been so engrossed by the news they did not feel Crystal enter.

“Good news!” Derek sings, competing with Jessica’s high-pitched voice. He jumps off his seat and clings onto Crystal’s neck. Even though they were cousins, Crystal dislikes touching Derek, so she pushes him back and freezes his feet together.

Derek doesn’t mind and takes out a laser disc. He melts the ice and liberates his feet. “Pizza! We deserve pizza!”

“What’s goin’ on?” Crystal asks, irritated.

“The corpses that the man was talking about weren’t our fault!”

“Which, who, and what?!” Crystal hates it when Derek doesn’t communicate clearly.

“What Derek means is,” Neil coolly says in his Tsundere voice, “the bodies that the officer was telling us about a while ago at 7-Eleven weren't killed by the robot. We’ve done our job the way we were expected of.”

“Pizzaaaa!” Derek screams.

“Shut up, Derek. Just because we're not the ones responsible for the death of those people doesn’t mean we should celebrate. They still died,” Neil says.

“Tell Sunshine!” Derek continues. He knows that it’s most important for their leader to know at once. Pizza can wait later.

“But guys…” Crystal frowns, looking at her watch. It’s almost eleven o’clock. “That's what I was going to tell you guys: Sunshine hasn’t come home yet.”

The coolness reaches her feet. Sunshine's feet are dipped in the water. Well, her boots-covered feet, that is. Hip-length and red, complimenting her orange superhero attire. Sunshine is fond of her uniform. Even if it's a dress she still finds it comfortable to kick butt in it. (There's a pair of shorts underneath, anyway.) One thing she regrets, though: is not wearing a mask. Derek is the only one in her Team who has half of his face covered when wearing his superhero suit..

Sunshine swirls her feet around, producing a number of ripples in the water. She went here to see the sunset. It's her most favorite thing in the world. When she was younger she would visit this bay (called Manila Bay), sneak under the huge chains that prevent people from falling off the edge, and watch the dusky scenery on her own, free from any trouble of being recognized and mobbed by fanatic “normal” citizens. But since she's become a Hero, solitude was a word that dissolved into two places: the Tower, and the middle of the bay.

The Tower is not the place for her now: she doesn't want to talk, and she knows that her Team would not be able to resist asking about her condition. So she went to Mang Emil, an elderly yacht owner, friend of her mother, and pleaded to be brought to the middle of the bay. This is not the first time: she always summoned the old man whenever she needs to see the sunset by herself. This time, she begged, unnecessarily, for the first time, not as a heroine whose demands must be granted, but as a desperate soul who needs a quiet place to think. “Just till the sun sets, sir,” Sunshine said.

“No, no, sweetie. You will have all the time you need. As the usual,” the old man said.

“Thank you so much, sir.”

With his wife and Sunshine the man drove his yacht to the middle of the bay. Sunshine was left alone on the deck.

Unfortunately, there was no sunset to glimpse today. Myriads of charcoal clouds blocked the sky and horizon from Sunshine’s view. Then, as if it weren’t enough, it began to drizzle. Soon it was raining. Mang Emil called Sunshine in—to eat dinner with him and his wife, but she politely declined the offer. Despite the absence of the sun, she stayed there. It was still good to be alone.

The rain has stopped, leaving Sunshine thoroughly drenched. Mosquitoes have started biting Sunshine’s exposed skin, mainly the arms and neck; but she doesn’t mind.

Initially, she planned to stay there till everything was crystal clear to her; but when it becomes apparent that nothing would make sense no matter how many eons she stayed there, Sunshine brings up her legs and hugs them. It begins to drizzle again. It is time to go.

She doesn't call Mang Emil out. She doesn't have to. Mang Emil is used to her appearing and disappearing. She hovers over the water for a few more minutes, and flies away.

Sunshine finds Crystal in the kitchen. Her sister has fallen asleep in a chair while waiting for her.

Sunshine gently shakes Crystal to wake her up. "I’m home,” she whispers.

Crystal is startled at Sunshine’s appearance, all soaked in rainwater. “Are okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“Have you eaten? We ordered some pizza—”

“I’m tired. I’ll eat tomorrow. Go to bed.”

Crystal obeys without another word.

Sunshine retires straight to her room, peels off her boots and doused suit, and lays herself on the bed. All her muscles and bones are excruciating from being soaked in the rain, her skin sore from being bitten by insects. She wraps blankets around her shoulders, anticipating a fever—a wild one. She buries herself in the sheets, sweating, hotter by the second. But though her body is extremely exhausted, her eyes demanding to be shut close, her mind is wide-awake: she cannot sleep.

Suddenly, she hears a rasping noise on the roof. Her Phone rings. She knows who it is.

“Speak,” she says. She has meant it to sound a bit comical, but her tone could not hide her gloom. Her voice is shaky.

A male voice says, “Come up. Let’s talk.”

Her arms jerk upon hearing the voice. His voice. It has grown so much deeper than the last time she heard it. He used to sound... uncertain—the tone of a boy. But now it has grown firm, bloomed into a timbre that she believes would only belong to a man.

Wobbly and aching, Sunshine gets out of bed, wears a robe, and hastens to the rooftop. The rain is gone, and the sky has cleared. The moon is now brightly shining. The wind is deliciously cold, but not to Sunshine. Each time the wind blows, she shudders. She embraces herself in her armor of cotton to protect herself from the stinging breezes.

The man is sitting at the edge of the rooftop, his back facing Sunshine. He sits there like a gargoyle, only feeling her presence. He does not speak.

Sunshine does not remember him this way, so fighting with her body’s rising temperature, she just watches him, tracing the muscles on his spandex-covered back where shadows are cast. She is certain she is going to collapse any minute now.

Then she does something she didn't expect herself to do.

She smiles.

She remembers him.

She remembering them…

“What’s up?” the girl asked.

The boy, who was almost eighteen, looked up to the sky, and answered, thoughtfully and softly, “Let me think. The sky and the moon. The stars. Ah, such beautiful heavenly bodies exist.” He paused. “If you fly right now I'd be talking to the most beautiful one.”

The girl sneered. She was fifteen and already knew much about the essence of flattery declared by young men. “Cheesy much.”

The boy sighed a laugh. “Ouch.”

The girl shook her head, smiling. “How important is your visit that you had to wake me up in the middle of the night? Is there any significant matter of which we should discuss?”

“Yes—you.”

She waved as if to shoo his answer away and turned around. “Go home.”

But he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his seat. “I flew for five hours just to see you and this is what I get? I would've been caught, gotten in trouble—a warning slip from UHC for using the Plane to see a girl. You should at least thank me for visiting you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have. And why should I thank you?”

“Or else you’ll be killing yourself from worry.”

“Ha! I do not worry about you!” The girl tightened her mouth, suppressing a laugh.

“Oh, really?” The boy pulled her closer till their noses touched. He looked deep in her eyes; they were much more alive than a wailing newborn baby. “You can’t fool me. You haven’t even been asleep yet.” He enveloped her in his arms and fixed the tangled strands falling on her forehead. They reposed at the edge of the rooftop, depending on each other for balance.

“How did you know?”

“I just know,” he whispered.

The young woman buried her head in his chest, smelling the familiar scent of victory. He kissed her and she kissed him back.

.

There’s no smile on the young man’s face tonight. No playful words. No embraces. Much less kisses. Just his painful presence that triggers the strongest whim of melancholic emotion within Sunshine’s soul.

“What brings you here?” she breaks the deafening silence, groping for the right way to speak and act. She is fighting off the fever. The memories. To face reality. Everything is so different. Everything has changed.

The man sighs and finally faces her. She softly gasps, eyes on the the familiar face of a stranger.

He stands up and walks up to her, but he stops three feet away, giving a considerable distance to speak with the young woman.

He was never like that.

The man opens his mouth, searching for words he knows he couldn't speak. Then he winces as if to stop himself. He sighs again and says, “Be careful.”

Sunshine searches his face. It is still pale. And his hair, still the color of flames, which falls carelessly around his face; those strands which she used to twirl around her fingers as he rested his head on her lap. She reflects upon these things, adding pain to her headache. Her fever must have reached around ninety degrees Celsius by now. Her body can only bear up to a hundred. The last time she had a fever higher than that, she convulsed.

Sunshine closes her eyes and tosses the two words in her mind. Be careful, he’s said. “Why? Is there danger?” She finally collapses, but he breaks the barrier he himself has installed between them just a few moments ago; when she falls, he catches her, just what she expects of him.

The man kisses Sunshine’s forehead. They burn from the heat. He whispers, “There’s always danger.” He wants to add, Danger from the evil men in the world, and danger from the kind people; danger from folly, and danger from wisdom; danger in hatred, and even danger from falling in love, but decides against it.

He does not mean to, but while he says this, he squeezes the woman in his arms. Sunshine squeezes back, as hard as her present strength allows. She feels the pain in the man’s grip and wonders if he could feel the pain in hers. Yesterday, they were younger; today, were they still so young?

Sunshine is half-unconscious she can’t even stand on her own. So she lets him slide his arms under her neck and legs and carry her to her room. He lays her on her bed, goes to the bathroom, and sits beside her, stroking her head with a small towel he’s dampened, letting Sunshine hold the other. Sunshine cannot help wishing he is still the boy she used to know. But she knows he is not. He has grown, and change accompanies growth. She feels a pang at this thought, but soon dismisses it. Nothing can be blamed on him. Everyone grows. Therefore, everyone changes. It’s inevitable.

She is shifting between dreams and hallucinations. Each time she opens her eyes she sees his eyes, blue and milky, intently watching her back. He is guarding her in this time of pain. You could have prevented it, she wants to say, but she can only say this in her dreams. You could have stayed with me. She starts to convulse. She groans, wanting to scream. Where were you all this time? You could have prevented this! You could have! She hears him hush her, but she can no longer open her eyes. She feels his embrace, and how suddenly cold it is. She shakes and groans the more, he stays firm and hushes her, brushing her forehead with his lips, until she has finally fallen into a peaceful deep sleep.

Morning arrives. The fever is gone.

And so is he.

“It’s okay,” Sunshine whispers. She remembers how he had persistently said “I’m sorry” every time she groaned, wanting to say, “You could’ve prevented this!” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he said, as though he could hear Sunshine’s thoughts.

“It’s okay,” Sunshine answers though the recipient of her assurance is not there. She figures out she will forgive him no matter what. “Goodbye.”

She looks through the window. She had always said goodbye to him. Nothing new. It’s a polite thing to say, and it often amused him. Oh, how she loved to amuse him. Still does maybe. If he were here, would he have laughed?

“Goodbye,” she repeats, dreading the consequence of saying it. Because this time it feels so different; she has said it so seriously as if it has meant to be the last.

Ch. 3