Romance of the Four Juans

Track 02

The second son arrived during siesta when the elders were all gathered under the shade of the mango trees in the backyard, playing mahjong and having suman sa lihiya with iced cucumber tea. The men were quite fussy about the heat and were cooling themselves with woven, spade-shaped fans.

It was Huan who received Kiko at the gate. After measuring each other for a few seconds, Huan grins. It seemed to him that Dante’s second child is a bit intense. Kiko is domineering with his buzz cut and a lightning bolt shaved on his right eyebrow. Is this really his style or was it put together only for the purpose of this visit? Huan wondered about it a lot, as he brought him out into a scene of Angel winning the second round.

Four pairs of eyes looked at both sons coming into the backyard, at how contrasting they were. As much as he wants to play a manly person, Huan will always be regarded as feminine first due to his slim figure and his beautiful face, a face so similar to that of the mother who birthed him. On the other hand, Kiko just exudes manliness with his toned muscles, the kind that is achieved not through body building but comes naturally through manual labor. And while Huan is cheeky, Kiko is serious as hell.

“This is a no-brainer. Your mother is Jimena!” Asyong exclaims.

Kiko nods and introduces himself to the lot, mentioning his full legal name Kiko Juancho Luna, as he had always been told to do. Dropping his duffel bag to the ground, he says “Mano po,” before stooping low and taking the hands of all the elders present at the mahjong table.

The men stood and eyed him closely. Asyong even makes a joke. “Guess. Which one is your father?”

Kiko politely points to the taller one almost immediately. His mother’s family did possess the tall Asian gene, yet something in him just knew that his height had been inherited from his father’s side. And Dante is a tall man, taller than him even, which surprised him.

Kiko knew, growing up, that this father existed somewhere in this world. His mother told him everything he needed to know about Dante Silverio. He just didn’t seek him out like a normal child would because he was already in the guardianship of a very loving stepfather. He had hypnotized himself into thinking that would always be enough, and it would be an insult to his stepfather, who had readily opened his arms to him, if he still sought out a man he barely knew. He didn’t ask for more because nothing is ever lacking in terms of family affection.

“Wait. Why are you a Luna? Has your mother been recognized by your grandpa? I don’t think so. Itinakwil kaya ng lolo mo si mama mo dahil sa kakawelga niya…” Angel nudges Dante before he could say more damning facts.

Kiko’s eyebrows rise at how well-informed the lot were about his mother’s affairs and wonders if they kept tabs on them all these years. Still, he clears it up for them. “My uncle legally adopted me when I was sixteen, since he doesn’t have children of his own. I was told he’s incapable of fathering children.”

“And someone has to carry the family name forward, preferably the male child.”

“So, you grew up in your Uncle’s care?”

Kiko shakes his head. “I only took his name. I still live with my mother.”

“So, did you come this time to take over the family business?”

Kiko shakes his head. “I came to meet you. I have no interest in business.”

“What do you do then?”

“I’m trying to be a filmmaker.”

Asyong chuckles and looks sideways at his friend. “Did you ever hear your mother say you’re just like your father? Hopefully you won’t flop as much as he did.”

“Tsk. Do you have your mother’s permission to stay with me?”

Kiko nods. The one who had been against his coming here was his stepfather, Genaro. The man cried when they sent him to the airport yesterday. Genaro expressed that sending Kiko off to his real father might make him forget about him. Kiko had to comfort the man and promise that he wouldn’t.

“Either way. Welcome home.” Dante pats his shoulders and gives him a smile. Then, he pointed to Huan, who busied himself with the rice cakes on the table. “That one is also my son, Huan. He’s only older than you by a few months.”

Huan did his usual hand salute and tried his hardest to swallow the mound in his mouth. Then, he ushers Kiko back into the house for a quick tour. As they turned to leave, they actually heard their father murmuring, “Two down, two more to go. I feel dead inside already.”

“What should I call him?” Kiko wonders as they ascend the stairs to the second floor of Dante’s house. “I’m not calling him sir.”

Huan laughs, the glacier totally chipped away. Kiko’s presence brought a sense of relief for the eldest that all the tension in his shoulders suddenly went away.

The third son came right before dinner. Unlike Huan, who’s got the confidence of a thousand men, and Kiko, whose coolness bordered towards unfeeling, the third child is upright but looks like he’d collapse any minute from exhaustion. He looked nervous and unsure of himself when he showed up at Dante’s gate and became fidgety when the two elder brothers met him right at the entrance, like a fish out of the water.

Having lived in a rented place all his life, the ginormous mansion overwhelmed him, so did the questioning eyes of his brothers that kept darting back at him every now and then.

“Ah!” Huan exclaims, stopping at the front door. “I remember now. You were a child actor, weren’t you? I remember watching you as a child. You are, aren’t you? JJ.”

The third son slowly nods his head. “That is my stage name. My real name is Juan Jigo.”

“You’ve been gone from the screen for a long time. What are you doing now?”

“I took my career abroad, but not in the field of acting. I sing and dance now.”

“No s**t!” Huan laughed ridiculously. It looks as if something has been made clear to him that he can do nothing but laugh at it now. But the laughter wasn’t explained, merely interpreted as extreme delight. “We have a celebrity brother. How cool is that? I actually wished for a sister, but I guess another brother is fine. I’m also Huan but with an H. Mama said it was supposed to be a J, but the registrar made a typo and instead of having it corrected, they just rolled with it. I mean I was born in an era where the typewriter is still a thing. Kiko is also a Juan, by the way. But let me just claim that name for myself because, unlike you, it’s the only name I have. Should we call you JJ?”

“You can call me Jigo.”

“Jigo it is.” Kiko settles. At that point, he would’ve volunteered to take the young man’s bags, but Jigo is only carrying a backpack that doesn’t seem to have anything on it. It hangs there, looking as weightless as the thin man that carried it. “Come. I’m afraid you'll have to endure dinner with us. The father we came to meet is already drunk. I’m sure he’ll answer any question we throw at him now.”