Romance of the Four Juans

Track 17

At around three in the morning, Jigo’s door that was left ajar fully opens, and he finds Kiko staggering to come in. “Let me sleep with you tonight.” Having his brother in his room, claiming a part of his bed, Jigo’s shoulders that had been quite tense was able to relax, and he found enough peace in his mind to finally attempt sleep. “Did you cry?”

Kiko turns to lie on his back. “Not for the dead one but for the one that lives.” The man takes a deep breath and covers his eyes with a hand. “We’ve disturbed you, haven’t we? I cannot promise that it will be the last.”

“As long as you’re both okay in the end, kuya. You can disturb the house all you want.”

“Can you do me a favor? When you see her next time, can you smile at her for me?”

Jigo wonders why he needs to be asked. A smile is an automatic response when you see someone you know, is it not? A smile is a prelude to a casual conversation. Does Kiko think that he won’t give her a kind smile because of what she pulled tonight?

“You have a beautiful smile, kid. It’s always contagious. I know it will work if it’s you.” Kiko continues. He’s almost smiling now, thinking about the days when he and HB were both carefree. “Keep this a secret between us, but Rico Yan is her first crush. She was only six when she decided she liked him. Somehow, she formed her ideal type out of the image of him. I can tell you for certain that HB is attracted to people who show their teeth when smiling, just like you. You’re blessed with a perfect row. It’s even better because you have those dimples buried on your cheek. I’m sure, more than anyone in the world, you can make her smile back. If she smiles, then everything should be alright. So, please do me a favor. Smile.”

That is easy enough. He even went to sleep practicing how to smile.

That was the night before. He was a different person again in the morning.

Unlike An-An who’s devouring the food laid on their breakfast table, Jigo is being selective. He looks quite distressed as he keeps darting glances at the vacant space on Dante’s right side where Kiko usually sits. Out of the blue, Jigo blurts out something that hasn’t been brought up in the family, the subject concerning the dead. “Pa. I’ve been reminded that we have yet to visit your parents’ graves as a family. We should. Today is as good as any other day. We should go today.”

Dante stared at the third child for two seconds. “Of course, son. You can tell Kiko to meet us there.”

It’s not something random, he knows as much. It must’ve been a thought that crossed Jigo’s mind because of Kiko and HB’s drama with the urn. Having a stranger’s ashes in the house is a first and the head of the house made sure that they give it a proper resting place. That’s why Kiko, HB and Bivi are gone for the day. Still, Dante wonders if his parents made an apparition in Jigo’s dreams last night because of it. And why Jigo?

Jigo rises from his seat, his food barely touched. It gave An-An the leeway to grab the plate he left, and mooch off whatever there is. “Don’t let kuya Jigo cook for us anymore. When he’s the one preparing our meals, he eats like an ant.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that, kid.” Huan tells him, sighing.

On that very moment, Kiko is walking like an old man inside the eerie columbarium. He kept glancing at the pews and barely had a moment to stop when the attendant that led them to their designated space handed the keys over to HB. He clutched his daughter’s hands tighter before lifting her up. Bivi is bombarding them with questions about the whole space, why is it built like that, why are they the only people inside, if the jars contain a person and how they can fit inside it.

Kiko can only deflect. The topic of death is not his strong suit. His first death had been Narra, HB’s eldest brother, then his baby sister Mirabella. None of which was ever easy, because he was already an adult with emotions that he sometimes could not even figure out whether to expose or hold back. Bivi might understand, but her feelings are simple and at her age it’s easier to be detached or distracted. Though it doesn’t mean they can just brush it off under the rug. At the moment, they can only equate it with a fairytale equivalent and taught her a bit about a person’s responsibility to their dead, that, just like in that animated film Coco, a soul truly disappears when no one remembers them anymore.

“What do we do?” Kiko asks once HB finishes decorating the tiny cubicle with some flowers and a photograph. “Do we say a prayer first?”

“You can if you want, or you can say something simple like rest in peace and try not to have any lingering feelings about staying on this side. Reassure her that you’ll do your best to raise Bivi. Reaffirm your position, that you have no regrets because Bivi is still the best thing that has ever happened to you.”

“What she said, Callista.”

“Aiya!” HB snaps at him.

“I couldn’t repeat that. It’s sappy.”

“Say something from the depths of your heart, Kiko.”

“We’re better off without you.”

“That’s it. She’s totally going to haunt us for life!”

They walk along the mazelike cemetery for a while, appreciating the names of the dead, calculating how old they were when they died, just passing time until they stumbled upon the mausoleum that housed Dante’s parents. They found the gate unlocked and so let themselves in with a tabi-tabi po that made HB scoff at Kiko. “Ano sila, nuno sa punso? Introduce yourself properly!” It’s a comment that Kiko chose to ignore. He eyed the awkward empty space on one side. Why are their graves not centered to the whole space?

Then it dawned on him. The thought that his father had allocated the vacant space for himself made Kiko’s heart lurch. Sure, Dante is not young anymore, and he’s probably taking a number of medicines for the usual silent killer diseases. Who knows when? But Kiko just found himself asking the grandparents before him, “Not yet. Don’t take him yet.”

It didn’t take long for Dante and the rest of his sons to arrive. They brought a bouquet of flowers picked from the garden, the grandfather’s favorite blend of coffee, and kropek for their grandmother. Each son lit a few candles and responded to the prayer Dante led for them. Everything he wanted to say after that, he kept in his head, imagining himself having a one-way conversation with his parents, updating them about his mundane life, how he’s tending well to the garden and how he got back four wonderful sons and a cute granddaughter. His musings led to a plea, in the end, for his parents not to come crawling into his sons’ dreams, and if they have something to say, just say it to him.