Sunshine

XXXVIII

HERE’S to another sleepless night. Nights where backs are laid on bed as usual but eyes were kept opened. There were nights where physical tiredness forced you to sleep, but on most nights those weren’t present. Were you less tired today? Was this day less eventful? All you know is that each day is a cycle of tiring repetitions.

And in those sleepless nights you wonder. How can you end this repetitive cycle? Deep inside you know, that those things that kept you awake at night were the answers to them all.

Ever wondered what will happen if your truth were opened? In rare (or maybe not) occurrence one, as something kept denied knows how their hidden truth could change the current.

Somewhere hidden deep, thoughts that kept you awake at nights you should be sleeping…

What were the things left unsaid?

“You don’t intend to carry that truth to your grave, right?” Someone asked. You don’t know who it was but it has the same voice as you. But it spoke in a voice more calmer “than yours. It has the same voice as you, but you know it’s not you. What could it be? “You don’t intend to let that truth die with you, right?”

You don’t know where those questions came from. But you still answered.

“I’m about to die with nothing on my name. Can I at least take this with me?”

“Humans die with nothing and in nakedness just like how they were born. And you are not different.”

“That’s right, I am no different. Just another human being dying because of an old age.”

“You wanted to die special?”

“I at least don’t want to die dumb.”

The mysterious voice died. It left you in deafening silence and more questions unanswered. Then you started to wonder what was that conversation for more than where that voice came from. As someone who never understood any purpose you started to give the whys more thought now that you’re on your death bed. As foolish as it may sound you are aware everything has its purpose. You believe in it. But then those purpose were never laid out even to those dying.

And then you realize the whys were something you tried so hard to find your entire life that it almost cost you your sanity. Amidst the anger burst and confusions and betrayals you only wanted to understand more than to be asked for forgiveness.

“Am I the most needed past?”

The people from the past and the memories and truth they hold. It could be someone you know or could be you to someone. Just how important is that thing you’ve been trying to carry to your grave if you could?

The past could change the present and define the future.

“DID Mayor Costales had another daughter? I mean, another adopted daughter like Magbanua perhaps?”

Captain Antonio Rivera inserted in the middle of their ongoing meeting. For a moment his teammates had their eyes and attention to him, waiting for him to elaborate. Rivera cleared his throat and went on with eyes in the foldered documents in front of him.

“Ah, nothing. It’s just that I saw someone who could be his daughter during my visit.”

Everyone’s attention went back to the papers in front of them, carrying on with what they were doing. Another deafening silence took over.

“Should I try looking into it, Capt?” Carlos suggested, referring to Rivera’s assumption of another daughter. But his eyes are on Marie. That was him suggesting they should do it together which Marie nodded to.

“We will try to look into it.”

“Yes, please do. Thanks.”

The “former” Special Task Force Team’s new mission went like this: to find the Kahilom’s Mayor Romualdo Costales past controversies or anomalies. As they can’t remember anything as well as the electronic records, they had to do it the traditional way― the papers in front of them were old newspapers and case files that had mentions of the Kahilom’s incumbent Mayor. They all had the words Olivia sent to them on those mysterious brown envelope on their heads. They read and flipped, read and flipped trying to find an answer to the riddle.

Costales was a good politician. But it seems like not a good person at all.

Romualdo Costales is stained. And it wasn’t really hidden well. Now find it. Then I will give you the mud to throw at him to show his dirtiness.

Once again the rustling of papers took over together with mumbled reading and loud sighs. Hours later, one by one, they stood from their seats to stretch or to make coffee for themselves. The sound of sipping got added.

There are few most common used ways to deal with a past. Past is something one have to get over with no matter what. And there are just some common ways to do it. Some tries to deny it, some tries to hide it, some tries to forget and bury it deep, and some just deliberately pretends it never happened. But there is actually a way that could be most effective in dealing with the past. But the thing is it takes courage―utmost courage.

No one’s really happy to dig and face it again, no matter how crucial it would be in the present or future.

They’re now trying to dig the past to give answers to the present and fix the future, in any sense.

“But what’s with the mud metaphor?”

“That means Costales’ a pig.” Marie answered, eyes stayed travelling on the newspaper on her hands. “Mud. Pig.”

“What makes you call a human a pig?”

Carlos’ follow-up question made everyone stop reading and scanning. The question made them think. “A pig-eater, nasty as a pig, dirty, greedy, immoral…”

Carlos concluded his answer to his own question by putting the newspaper on his hand across the table. Captain Rivera was the first to look at it.

But in every past touched there is a present and a future that is at stake. Because a recurring of a past either builds or breaks.

But who’s present and future matters the most? Those that will be built or those that will crumble?

Antonio Rivera in his authority gave out orders, “Let’s go.”

IN Captain Rivera’s orders Carlos and Juan hit the road to the address copied from the newspaper earlier. Carlos volunteered to take the driver’s seat. Juan is next to him in the shotgun seat.

“I don’t want to sound negative but I don’t want to get my hopes high either But what if that article was just made up? Perhaps made for clout? That was the only single article published and it never had progress reports.” Juan gave way to the car’s horn and paused. “And that reporter hasn’t published much, too. And that newspaper tabloid publishing already closed its doors, right?”

In the only article they found that spoke ill of Mayor Costales, he was once accused of r**e in an expose report of a small tabloid publication. But since they are only small and the mayor already stationed himself in the government that time, it was easy to bury it. The issue never made it big, actually.

“No one really takes tabloids seriously for reasons you just pointed out now. But still this is the only thing we have. We need to hear the details from the reporter himself..”

Finally the cars started moving. Carlos stepped on the gas pedal and accelerated to the best he could.

“Don’t get me wrong. I really wish we’ll be successful today.”

Carlos looked at his best friend’s direction briefly to give him a quick smile and a nod. “Of course, I know. We always know each other’s intentions even without spelling it out.”

“That just sounds like a married couple.”

They both laughed at Juan’s joke.

CARLOS and Juan arrived at their destination just right about sunset. Unlike their expectation, Astra Apartments don’t look like a star at all. It is more like an abandoned building, if we take out all the traces of people― the hanged clothes on the hallways for example, living in any of the units of the 20-floor building. Carlos parked the unmarked police car next to the broken parking area sign. Together they went out of the car.

“I think we should look around first.”

Carlos nodded to that. They entered the apartment building’s entrance while trying not to get attention.

“Is this your first time here?”

But then the eagled-eye lady on the reception area saw them and called them out. In all smiles which is evident on her voice too she added. “How may I help you?”

“Oh, yes, hello.” Carlos took the lead to the reception area where the woman was. The reception area was a small extension room located on the far right from the apartment complex’s entrance. It comes in chipped light shade of blue paint that matches the entire building. “We actually came to visit a friend we haven’t met for years.”

“Visitors, as I figured. It’s not really hard to spot one here since we basically know each other. There are only few ones left in this apartment. It must be obvious why?” Carlos and Juan both nodded. The receptionist woman went on with her cheerful talks. “Anyways who’s this friend you’re visiting?”

“Ah, yes. We came for Peter Saragoza?”

“Peter?” Another unexpected thing in this visit, the name gave a confused look on the lady. Carlos and Juan assumed this trip would be easy the moment she said they know everyone here. The woman kept repeating the name to herself, waiting for it to ring a bell. “Oh, Peter!”

That lighted up a bulb on the two police officers who never got the time to introduced themselves. “Is he here?”

“We had a Peter Saragoza here. But he’s actually one of the firsts who left after the government said they took possession of this property.”

“This apartment is government-owned?”

“It became that way since the owner died.”

They nodded. “Perhaps could you give me Peter’s contact details if you happen to have?”

That made the lady shook his head. “I would really love to, but I don’t have anything to give to you. He wasn’t really close to anyone here so he successfully cut off all contacts since he left 5 years ago.”