Waiting in the Wings

TWO

TWO

“You do know we’re not as financially stable as the other theatre companies out there, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m aware of it.”

“Sometimes we put productions on pause or shelve them completely when we don’t get proper funding.”

“I understand, ma’am. Don’t worry—I know what I’m getting into.”

“Interesting. Your credentials could earn you an in-house artist post at Alistair Productions or Indigo Theatre, and yet you chose to come to Lakambini.”

Ramon Figueroa only smiled as he walked in stride with Teatro Lakambini director Milagros Espeleta. Fondly called Mamu by her peers and protégés, the fifty-something year-old woman had been the unwavering force behind Lakambini’s steady success despite numerous financial challenges as well the blossoming of new, better-funded theatre companies.

From her office at the second floor where Ramon had his final interview, they walked up a flight of stairs that led to a spacious, almost bare corridor. She kept walking, stopping only when they reached a door which had a piece of bond paper stuck on it with scotch tape. The scribble on the paper read: Hanggang Ulap Workshop.

A playful smile appeared on Mamu’s face after she gave Ramon a once-over. “Something tells me you’re not here just for the love of the art.”

Ramon’s lips parted as if to protest, but nothing other than nervous laughter came out.

The woman waved a sheet of paper—his resume—in the air, as though telling him to stop racking his brain for a response. “I would be very happy to consider you part of our family, Ramon.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You can call me Mamu,” the director said and held her hand out to him. “Welcome to Teatro Lakambini.”

An unbelievable feeling of triumph filled Ramon’s chest as he shook Mamu’s hand. Overwhelmed, he stumbled on his words as he reassured her he would be doing his best for Lakambini. Mamu laughed and let his hand go.

“I will hold you to that promise, Ramon. But for now, I need to announce something to the kids.” Lifting a hand to the side of her lips, she whispered, “We just received funding for the next Lakambini musical.”

“Oh, that’s great, ma’am! I mean M-mamu…”

“I know! The Alvez Foundation for the Arts is a godsend. They’re giving us a hundred percent!” Mamu put her hand against her chest and let out a relieved sigh. “You stay here. I’ll introduce you to the kids after this.”

He took a seat on a nearby wooden bench when Mamu disappeared into the room. Drumming his fingers against his knees, Ramon wondered where this new journey would take him.

His decision to apply as Lakambini’s in-house choreographer wasn’t made on impulse; he wasn’t wired that way. Every step he took in his life so far had been a result of calculated choices, and this was no exception. When Mamu supposed he wasn’t here only for the love of the art, she wasn’t entirely off the mark.

Boisterous cheering from inside the room disrupted Ramon’s thoughts. He smiled, thinking they sounded like they just won a trophy from Gawad Lagablab, the most respected award-giving body in the local theatre scene. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to single out a voice he dearly missed from the mishmash of voices that now flooded the entire hall.

“Hijo…”

He looked up to see Mamu peeking out of the door, beckoning to him with a gentle nod. Ramon took a deep breath and sprung to his feet, both thrilled and anxious to meet everyone.

To meet Erin again.

“There’s someone I’d like you kids to meet…” he heard Mamu say. Silence began to settle inside the room as he stepped inside, cautious, as though expecting an attack in case they didn’t like him. His eyes scanned the room and the faces that looked up at him in anticipation, each of them unfamiliar.

Save for one.

“Go ahead, hijo…introduce yourself.”

Ramon clasped his hands together to keep his anxiety at bay, but his eyes were trained on Erin Javier, who was seated at the back of the room. They might have been a few feet apart, but he recognized the uncertainty in her eyes when she saw him. He couldn’t blame her.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Ramon Elias Figueroa.”

“Oh my god, Ramoncito!”

The smile on his face grew when his college moniker flew out of Erin’s lips. Everyone else in the room turned their heads to look at her. Ramon found it difficult to hold back a grin when she fumbled for an explanation.

“I’m sorry, we—Ramon and I—”

“—went to school together,” Ramon finished. He waved at her awkwardly. “Hi Erin. It’s nice to see you again.”

A collective “Yihee!” filled the room, and Ramon waited for it to die down before he continued his introduction.

“So...yeah. I’m Ramon. I spent the last two years in Singapore, working with a group of entertainers at a theme park. I just got back a few weeks ago. I was also part of Green Room Productions, my—our—” he corrected, making a gesture toward Erin at the back of the room. “—university theatre group. I mostly did choreography, and that’s why I’m here today.”

“Ramon is going to be Lakambini’s in-house choreographer from now on,” Mamu offered. “I believe he will be of great help to our future productions, so children...play nice.”

“We always do!” a guy in front exclaimed. As if to prove a point, he got up from his seat, patted his unruly curls down, and extended a hand to Ramon. “Mark, pare. Mark Basco. Welcome to Lakambini. I’m one of the stage managers here.”

Ramon shook his hand, repeating Mark’s name in his head. As everyone else took their turn in introducing themselves, Ramon felt as if he was drifting aimlessly in a sea of information.

“I wondered what had happened to you!”

It was Erin, the anchor that kept him in place. She strode over, threw her arms around him, and squeezed him tight.

“This and that,” he replied, returning the affectionate gesture. “Glad to see you again.”

“You already said that.” Erin pulled away, but didn’t let him go just yet. Ramon was left with no choice but to stand there while she took a good look at him.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked, catching herself too late. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

Right. The Ramon Figueroa she knew in college had a full head of hair—or at least that was what she thought. He flashed her an embarrassed smile and ran his hand over his clean shaven head. “It’s okay. It was something I decided to do.”

“Tell me everything,” she demanded, hand latching onto his wrist. “We’ll play catch-up after the workshop.”

. . . . .

“Ignore them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Them, of course, referred to the Lakambini kids who teased them endlessly when they saw Erin and Ramon around the building. After Mark officially adjourned the day’s workshop, Erin took it upon herself to give Ramon a tour of the place. And because no one really went home right after workshops end, the two kept on bumping into basically everyone.

“Are they always this…spirited?” he asked as Erin showed him into the theatre through the main door. He had been here a couple of times before, but as an audience member experiencing the performances, not as a company member who now had the privilege to imagine potential in its nakedness.

And it was completely naked, from one corner to the other, on all four sides. Unlike the traditional proscenium theatre, Teatro Lakambini’s set-up was more of a black box. Ramon had seen previous production sets that mimicked a proscenium-style stage, while some used thrust stages. Small as the space was, he had nothing but respect for the creativity of the set designers who made sure audiences always had a different viewing experience every time. It was part of what he loved about this place.

“Kinda,” Erin replied, taking a few steps ahead of him. “We did get two pieces of good news today, so we’re running on extra adrenaline, I guess.” She then threw her arms wide open and began a rehearsed spiel about the history of this performance space. Ramon pictured her doing the same for the occasional workshoppers who came to Lakambini during the summer for the theatre’s enrichment programs.

“I’ve been here before, you know,” he offered, smiling. “To see your shows.”

“What? When?”

“Chronicles of a Breakup, Sa Kanto ng Kaimito at Santol,” he recounted. “Minsan Tayo…”

The expression on Erin’s face went from curious to maybe a little upset. “Didn’t you leave after graduation?”

“Not right away. I stayed for a bit and tried auditioning for some shows.” The farthest he got was a callback for Jumpstart Productions and nothing else. “I was going to audition for Chronicles, too. But that was the same week I got a job offer from Singapore. Whenever I came home for a vacation, I tried to catch whatever shows were running.”

Erin frowned. “You didn’t even say hi after every show you’ve seen!”

“Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad. I’m just—seriously? You came to watch my shows and didn’t even say hi!”

Ramon shrugged. “I wanted to, but there would always be a mob wanting to take photos with you and stuff. And then you’d get ushered backstage, and I lost my chance.”

“Not even a peep on social media!”

“I…liked some of your photos on f*******:? I think I sent a message too, but…” Did he? Maybe he typed something up and deleted everything before he even hit Enter.

Erin narrowed her eyes at him.

“Anyway, I felt like that was too impersonal.” She rolled her eyes. “You are impossible.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll say hi after every show now,” he teased, waving the rolled-up copy of the Hanggang Ulap script he received at the workshop earlier. “I think you’d be perfect for the role of Hannah.”

A pause. Erin looked like she wanted to say something in reply, but she simply clicked her tongue and started toward him. For a second, he thought she was going to kick him out of the theatre when she grabbed him by the wrist, but it turned out she wanted to move on to the next phase of the tour.

Ramon already knew the second floor housed offices, but he’d only seen Mamu’s so far. Erin showed him the communal one which the PR, marketing, and production departments used.

Erin introduced Ramon to the staff members present and showed him the secret passageway to the tech booth located at the theatre balcony.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t touch anything here or Val will kill me,” Ramon heard Erin mumble when they sat in front of the console. “Anyway, this is the best seat in the house for me...unless you’re the technical director, of course. In which case—stress.”

“You spend a lot of time here?”

“Not all the time. Maybe a show or two in the middle of a run, when I have an alternate.” She drummed her fingers against the countertop. “I like observing things from here.”

“You like observing things, period.”

She turned her head toward him and grinned. “Point.”

“I’m surprised you don’t hang out on the catwalk.”

Her laughter filled the empty theatre, and consequently, Ramon’s defenseless little heart. These past few hours have melted away years of being apart from Erin, and he liked it. He liked it very much.

“You don’t think I tried?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, to be honest.”

She grinned. “You know me so well.”