NINETEEN
P
io spent his Saturday morning in Teatro Lakambini’s workshop room, seated behind the electronic piano and facilitating vocal rehearsals for their young students’ upcoming recital. Erin, being the more patient of them both, handled stage direction.
Toward the end of the morning session, Ramon, who was handling a dance class at the main theatre downstairs, poked his head through the workshop room door. Both Pio and Erin looked up from what they were doing, but Ramon simply pointed at Pio and snuck out.
“All right, kids, let’s take five,” Pio announced and got up from his seat. “We’ll run through the entire thing after the break, okay?”
The response was an enthusiastic “Yes, Kuya Pio!” followed by the thud of tiny footsteps on the wooden floor as the children scampered to vari
