WET FIELDS

GRIEF

I was sitting in one of the benches outside the the operating room when I saw an old man being rushed inside the nearby emergency room. With Adel inside the operating room, I was not inclined to ogle with other’s misfortunes. Nor I would concern myself with the other patients of the hospital.

But what I overheard at the also nearby information desk startled me. The hospital staff was asking for the name of the old man who was rushed to the ER.

“His name is Faustino Batilaran, he is a resident of lower Caranglan.” The man who brought the old man to the hospital replied.

It was Mang Usting, Lissa’s father who was rushed to the ER.

“What happened to Mang Usting?” I asked the man who brought him to the hospital. He introduced himself as a barangay councilman.

“Their neighbors saw the old man lying unconscious in front of the gate of their house as the storm was raging,” he explained.

“They called my attention and I took him in the barangay service vehicle and drove him here in the hospital.”

I learned further that Mang Usting was living with a house helper. But apparently, the house helper left Mang Usting alone in the house to check on her family nearby as the typhoon was wreaking havoc in the area.

I quickly went inside the ER. I saw the hospital personnel was putting bandage to his head.

“The old man was still unconscious, he allegedly broke his head when he accidentally fell in front of their gate,” the male nurse assisting his colleague volunteered this information.

“They tell us that his daughters and their families are in Australia and their relatives are in Cabanatuan City,” the male nurse added.

I uttered a muted prayer for Mang Usting’s recovery.

“The old man’s head was MRI’ed already, according to his doctors he needed to be operated as there is a blood clot seen on his brain.” The other nurse butted in to share her information.”

I went back to where I was waiting in front of the OR. Many hours had passed before a nurse came out from the room. I looked at her groping for words.

“The doctor will be the one to speak to you sir.” The nurse said without me saying anything.

Then the doctor who asked me to fill up and sign the waiver followed her.

“How is it Doc?” I asked. I tried to calm my voice.

Ador had just called. He told me he was nearing the hospital.

“She is under heavy sedation… Her baby did not make it.” The doctor said, while patting me on my back.

I went to the morgue. I wanted to see how our daughter looked like.

I showed my ID to the staff at the morgue of the hospital. I inquired about the procedure on how I could get our unborn child. She was complete. Her features were remarkable. She was a carbon copy of Adel.

“I’m sorry my daughter…” I was talking with her on my mind, “I hope you will understand; there is also a slim chance for you to survive…”

“I will take care of the baby’s burial,” Ador told me.

Adel was moved out of the OR. She was transferred to the ICU.

“We completely lost on our crop,” Ador relayed me the sad news.

I wanted to check if their Farmer’s cooperative was diligently paying the premiums of their crop insurance.

We agreed, I and Ador would take turns in caring for Adel at the hospital. I had to take care of our animals at the farm too and check the extent of the damage left by the super-typhoon.

We were exactly two weeks at the hospital. Adel was still comatose. I was in the small chapel of the hospital when I saw Lissa.

I was surprised when she hugged me and cried.

“I wonder why it seems my life was never without something to cry for?” she sobbed.

I gently pulled away from her. I was afraid Ador might accidentally see us or any one in Caranglan who knew us.

We took our seats at the farthest pew in the chapel.

“I have just separated from Rod. He challenged me to a divorce when you went to Victoria.” She narrated.

She opened up her heartaches, without asking me why I was in the hospital or if I have also a sob story to tell.

“It’s ok for me that he divorced me. I’m already an Australian citizen…”

“What hurts me is, he takes the twins away from me.”

She bitterly bit her lower lip and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. I took out a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to her.

“Then this… Ama is on the verge of death. According to the doctors, his brain is swollen. He’s old, maybe he cannot endure the operation…” she cried again on my shoulder.

“Our lives are just borrowed ones…” I told her, “If He would like to take it back, we can’t do anything about it. Maybe Mang Usting needs to rest.”

I tried comforting her by gently massaging her back.

“Thanks Greg… Do you know that I prayed hard in this chapel a moment before you see me in the corridor?”

“I prayed that He gives me a reason more to live for.”

“I am desperate, Greg. I lost my kids, and now I am to lost Ama. I don’t have any more reason to live for.”

I felt speechless. I was at a loss on what to say.

Losing a love one does not equate to losing one’s life.

“When I saw you Greg, I felt He had answered my prayers!”

“You are my reason to live!”

I scratched my head.

No. I was not the answer to her prayers. Not in anyway.

“No, I’m not. You have your twins. A sister…you’re young, you can outlive the pains…” I told her.

“Be strong…Be positive…I’ll go back to Adel. Maybe she needed me at the ICU…” I told her.

“Adel is in ICU, your wife here in the Philippines?” she suddenly asked. I nodded.

“I rushed my wife first in the hospital before I saw your father being ushered in the ER…” said I and quickly turned my back. I did not wait to see her reaction telling her the news.

We transferred Adel in a private room after she was taken out from the ICU. She was still comatose but her condition had stabilized.

“Her chances of surviving the operations is getting better,” her attending physician relayed the somewhat reassuring news.

“Hopefully, she will wake up this week or next week. Her body is responding well with the medications.” Her doctor added.

“Greg, Ama is gone…” Lissa relayed to me the sad news.

It was two weeks after she arrived from Melbourne. I closed my eyes. I seemed to see Mang Usting in my imagination. His ever-present smile showing off his gold tooth.

“Rest in peace mang Usting. Thank you for the beautiful memories…” I uttered silently in my mind.

I reminisced the happy times we shared working at his farm while I worked on my dissertation. His manners which showed no pretentions. Our common love for the rice fields. We both found the curious happiness in the simple living among farming folks.

I was orphaned to my father in the earlier part of my life. And Mang Usting was a father to me all through my stay in Caranglan.

Our mutual respect and care for each other had bonded us closer. Wasn’t it that we became co-wedding sponsors? That made us god-brothers for life.

“How is your wife?” she asked, her eyes were puffy from crying.

“She is still comatose. But her doctors are positive about her condition,” I replied.

“I can feel that you really love her, don’t you?” she asked, while wiping her eyes. I saw she was using the handkerchief I gave her at the chapel.

“I am envious of her…Me? I am always cramming myself to you, even if you always ignore me,” she said with a bitterness evident in her voice.

I bowed my head. I didn’t want her to see that I pitied her. I didn’t want her to know that she also had a place in my heart. We just didn’t get it right. Our timing were always off.

“If only I can wake her up, I will. It pains me to see you in grief, Greg.”

“I will be happy to see you happy--- with someone you love.”

“Will you attend Ama’s burial?” she asked.

She visited me at the hospital with a black piece of cloth pinned on her left breast.

“Maybe, it will be the last time for us to see each other,” said she.

“Will your sister Oreng fly home to attend your father’s burial?” I asked her.

“No, she had a hard heart. She quarreled with Ama when he insisted to go back in Caranglan.” She spoke of thisl, smirking.

“She was also mad at me for accompanying Ama back home. She wanted us to sell the properties in Caranglan and settle in Australia for good.”

“Maybe, she will only go back here, if I will die too. She will sell the properties and go back again to Australia.”

I did not pay much attention to what she was hinting at. She was always like that. Sometimes, she could be brutally frank. There was no gray areas in her reasoning. It was either white or black for her. No in-betweens.

That was why I was not sold on her description of herself being dim-witted.

There is no exact definition of intelligence. What could be intelligent for others; could be dim-wit for another.

It was, dependent on one’s perspective.

I asked Ador to look over his daughter at the hospital while I attended Mang Usting’s burial.

I was amazed at the number of people who attended the kindred old man’s last march to his final resting place. The cemetery was teeming with people. It was as if the whole population of the barangay he resided were at the cemetery.

After his casket was lowered down to the grave and the people had their last glimpse of the ceremony, the grave workers did their tasks of burying the dead.

I saw Lissa clutching her red roses in her hand and throwing it at his father’s casket while the graveyard workers were putting the slabs to cover the gtave.

I was turning my back when I overheard someone yelled, ”Look the woman has fainted!”

I heard a loud thud. I ran quickly as I could as I saw Lissa slumped to the ground.

I felt blood oozing from her head when I lifted her head on my lap. I quickly carried her to where my car was parked.

“I can drive sir,” I heard a man approached me as I was trying to open my car’s door. I saw the same man who introduce himself as a barangay councilman who brought Mang Usting to the hospital.

“Please,” I asked him as I pushed myself inside at the backseat with Lissa.

I gave the barangay officer my car keys.

“She was not eating anything during the wake, “I overheard a woman telling another as the barangay officer revved up the engine.

I put Lissa’s head on my lap. I was worried about her wound. The blood was wetting my pants.

“Please go faster,” I urged the barangay officer.

She opened her eyes as we cruised past the cemetery.

“Greg, it seemed It won’t be long, I will be with Ama,” she uttered this pinching my arm hard.

“Silly girl!” I whispered. I tried to put anger in my voice.

“It’s only a wound. It’s far from the intestine,”

“Be strong. I will marry you too if you get this over,” I whispered again.

I did not know why I uttered such silly word. Such an empty promise.

“No…” she retorted, “A petty-passer is not a good fit for a genius like you.”

“You and Adel are compatible. I saw her old tarpauline. She was a University of the Philippines’ graduate and a summa c*m laude.”

“How will a dim-witted b***h fare with her…” she was sarcastic describing herself.

“Stop talking,”

“We are nearing the hospital… Bear the pains,” I told her.

But I was concerned with the blood from the gaping wound in her head. It seemed it was not stopping.

“There is no more pain, my head is numb. I feel dizzy…Kiss me Greg please…” her voice was fading.

“Brod are we still far?” I asked the driver driving my car.

“Greg…” Lissa whispered.

I kissed her. I breathed into her mouth. I wanted to extend her breath with my own.

I quickly carried her to the ER as soon as we stop at the hospital’s front door.

She was taken at once by the emergency staff. A team of doctors took turns reviving her.

It was at that moment when I was finally aware of the heaviness in my arms and the shaking of my knees.

I froze in front of the ER. It was as if a carousel of images was circling on my mind.

Mer had me divorced. Adel was a comatose. Mang Usting was gone. And Lissa was in the ER.

I felt the images were pointing their accusing fingers toward me. I felt there was something in me that could snap. I needed to find my bearing. To summon my will.

“Sorry sir, we did what we could, she was dead on arrival…” the doctor said.

Lissa died in my arms.

“Is she your relative sir?” the nurse inquired, as I took care of the documents.

“No, she’s a friend…a very close friend.” I replied.

I called the barangay officer who drove my car.

“Please tell them to call her sister in Australia…”

I took care of signing the papers needed for her corpse to get to her home quickly.

“Sir, there is a CR at the end of this hallway, you can clean yourself,” an aide of the hospital told me. He saw the blood in my hands and in my clothes was still fresh.

“The patient is DOA…we have contacts with the funeral homes…” he added.

“Okay, whatever it takes to enable her body to get home quickly…”

It happened so fast. She was warm. And now—she was so cold.

I had partially cleaned myself. Lissa’s blood was still on my clothes. I called up Ador to tell him what happened. I was driving to our farm house. I needed to change my clothes. It was seemed unreal that Lissa was gone too, like his father. It seemed that there was only a very slim wall dividing life and death.

It only showed how frail and fleeting life was.

We need to treasure our love ones who are still with us. We need to show them we care before it would be too late.

I searched my address book for Lissa’s sister. I called her when I found it.

Lissa’s sister was polite on the phone. I told her every detail of what had occurred. She promised to fly home the soonest she could book a flight. She gave me a telephone number of a relative in Cabanatuan, she asked me a favor to call her relative to help in arranging Lissa’s wake.

I called the number and I also informed their relative about what happened. And told her to coordinate with Lissa’s sister about Lissa’s death.

After being sure that I did what I had to do regarding Lissa’s death; I rested for a while. It was a long, long day. A very tough one. I felt exhausted. I still needed to go to the hospital. Wanting to see my wife, was a needed respite.

But, was it?

I was met by Ador in the lobby. He seemed to be crying.

I cried too.

“I remembered one of Lissa’s words.

“Why it seem there is no end to crying in my life?”

On my part, did I also had something to cry for, at this moment?

I feared the answer as I waited for what Ador had to tell me.

TO BE CONCLUDED.