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chapter four - ANNA
The roosters woke me at six thirty. I made my bed and walked to the mirror. After studying my face and brushing my hair, I turned to my room. In one corner was my suitcase, its contents already stored in my closets. My desk was uncluttered, unlike yesterday when it was a mess of books. I glanced at Bumbles upon my desk, and then at my glass-framed University award on the wall. I smiled and left my room.
After a shower, I headed downstairs, where mother had already prepared breakfast. As we ate, she asked what my plans were for the day. I told her I was tending to our store in San Lorenzo, Bangui’s poblacion. “Get some rest, mama. You’re losing weight because you’re working too hard.”
It was actually mother’s friends who, years ago, suggested she put up a shop. They hoped it would keep her busy—instead of her dwelling on her husband’s passing. Mother initially didn’t like the idea, but her friends pooled money and established a network of suppliers. She finally agreed and invested in the store’s construction.
That was Bayanihan, a tradition in the province. People grouped resources to help a friend in need, without expecting anything in return.
In the city, however, people were selfish, always pulling each other down to get ahead. I was well aware of this reality, and I conformed to this societal norm—when in the city, that is. If I got ahead yet hurt others in the process? Too bad.
That guy I met yesterday, Archie—he adhered to this mentality, too. One look at him said it all: “Me”, “What I want”, and “To hell with the rest of you people.”
IT WAS a slow day at the store. Townsfolk occasionally passed by for a purchase. I didn’t know all their names, but I knew their faces well enough. I could easily tell apart locals from outsiders. Take what’s-his-name for instance: His American twang and offhand remarks, that patronizing look he gave everything and everyone—a bona fide foreigner who’d look at a native piglet and wonder what kind of dog it was.
It was three in the afternoon. I was seated behind the counter, absorbed with McCullough’s Caesar, a novel I bought before leaving Manila. As I flipped a page, the door chimes sounded and a tricycle zoomed by outside.
“Well well,” said a familiar voice. “So we meet again,”
I looked up from my book.
Of course—Archie. I smiled inwardly.
He was well built, and stood at around five feet nine, four inches taller than me. His short, dark brown hair lay in a slight yet oddly appealing disarray. He looked at me steadily—his eyes soft, yet his gaze deep it’d so easily melt any incautious woman’s heart. His profile was handsome; his nose and mouth were perfectly complemented by a finely chiseled jaw line.
He walked to the counter, leaned on it, and looked around. “Easy Purchase,” he said, nodding a little. That was the name of mother’s shop. His eyes ran upon the shelves, the white roofing, and the fan slowly spinning above us. “Is all this yours?”
“What’s your name again?” I said.
He feigned shock. “You actually forgot my name?” He shook his head. “I certainly didn’t forget yours, Anna.”
I said nothing and stared at him instead. It was a habit—staring at boys. Especially stupid ones. And once they flinched and avoided my eyes, I already had the upper hand.
But this boy didn’t look away. When he saw me staring, he stared back.
“It’s Archie, remember?” He opened his arms in exaltation. “Arthur Alfonso Gallagher.”
“Nice to meet you again, Arthur.”
His smile faltered. I returned to my novel.
“What’s with the mascot?” he then said.
I looked at him.
He was frowning at Bumbles upon the pen stand. “You never struck me as one of those girly-girls, with their cute little toys. Then again, everyone’s got their quirks, don’t they.” He glanced at me, chuckled, and shook his head.
I didn’t reply.
“So Anna, you own this place?”
“Yes,” I said, and returned to my book. I wouldn’t prolong this conversation with his ‘Why were you here? Where’s your father, your mother? How long would you be in town?’
“No you don’t,” he replied. “Your mommy owns this place.”
I stopped reading and looked at him.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
I frowned. “And who told you that?”
“Oh, the people. Small sleepy town, everybody knows everybody.” He looked away. “It wasn’t that hard to find you.”
What a disturbing line. I recalled it from a movie. Was that Psycho? Silence of the Lambs?
“Really now,” I said. “What else did they tell you.”
A smile played on his lips. His eyes locked into mine. “Who cares, Anna. I’d rather get to know you myself.” With that smug grin, he turned away, put his hands behind his back, and looked around the store like a tourist.
With his back to me, I began studying him further. He wore a loose t-shirt with the imprint NATURAL, tucked-in under a pair of Armani’s. His trim waistline was in perfect proportion to his broad shoulders. Given his height, his boyish face, and his excellent physique, Archie was very attractive—if you were the shallow type. As for his attitude—that made him even more interesting. A smug little Fil-Am in my hometown…
I smiled and studied him further.
He continued through the shelves. I resumed my book. Minutes later, he returned to me with a pair of six-pack beers. I ignored him.
He placed the drinks on the counter. “Is that Caesar you’re reading?”
The title was all over the cover, wasn’t it? “Yes,” I said, my eyes never leaving the pages.
“That’s a thick book. What’s it, six hundred pages long?” He bent over to take a closer look. I wanted to pull away; instead, I replied with a nod.
“Julius Caesar,” he said, leaning back. “You should read Caesar’s Women. It’s by the same author.”
I looked at him. “You’ve read her books?”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “You know, Caesar wasn’t just some warmongering general. He was also quite a stud—in bed.”
I frowned and was about to react, but he continued, “Hey, those bedroom exploits weren’t just for fun. They were clever political tactics that used unorthodox methods like sex to achieve his goals.” His smile grew wider. “Very smart, don’t you think? There was Caesar, using all his Roman maneuvers, hoping to achieve the best possible outcome.” He stifled a laugh. “No pun intended.”
I didn’t get it. “What do you mean ‘no pun intended’?”
He rolled his eyes. “Anna, come on! Bedroom exploits? Roman maneuvers? The best out-come?” He burst out in laughter.
I simply looked at him as he enjoyed his joke.
“Very smart indeed,” I said. “Anything smarter you have to say?”
“Depends.” He smiled. “What’ll you now say in return?”
I held back my smile and maintained the gaze. I then looked away and returned to my book.
He tapped one of the six-packs. “So I’m just walking away with these? Or are you going to charge me.”
I put down my book and took care of his order. I decided to overcharge him, just for fun. “That’s four hundred seventy pesos,” I said, and placed his beers in a plastic bag.
He cocked his head. “But your labels say each pack’s a hundred eighty, so that’s only three sixty total.”
That’s right! I completely forgot about the price tags!
“We… recently changed prices,” I said. “They were a lot more expensive last week. My mistake.” I smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back.
Boys. They always fell for cute smiles. How many times have I gotten away with things by flashing this very same smile?
As we smiled at each other, I suddenly wanted to stick out my tongue, enlarge my eyes, and go, “Bleeech!” just to irk him.
I maintained my sweet smile, however. How foolish of me to forget the price tags.
I was done with his beers and was about to ask for payment when I noticed him studying me. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”
What an unforgivable line. “Thanks. You too. Now that’s three hundred sixty.” I stuck out my hand for the money.
“Let’s have dinner when you’re done here.”
“Excuse me?” I retracted my hand.
“I’m asking you out.” He grinned. “This isn’t the first time a guy’s asked you out, right?”
I knitted my brows, rolled my eyes, and reached for my book.
“What’ll it be?” he asked.
“I said, three hundred sixty pesos.”
“What, for the date?”
I frowned at him. He smiled.
“Why in the world should I go out with you,” I said.
“Because.” He started gauging me, assessing my mood. I made sure he read extreme displeasure all over my face.
“Because what.” Glare at him, Anna! Look him in the eye. Show him you’d rather jump off a cliff than date him!
“Well, because…” He was stammering. My expression was working wonders.
He finally found his words. “What should I do? Pass by and say, ‘Hey, Anna. From yesterday, right? This your store? How cool is that, us meeting again by chance! By the way, got some beer?’ And then, I’d swing by tomorrow and say, ‘Hey, Anna! I forgot to get trash bags yesterday for home. How are you?’ And then, I’d return the day after and say, ‘Anna, got any lame pickup lines I could use on you? I ran out!’ Is that what you want?”
Pickup lines. How mildly funny. I gave him an equally mild smile.
He wasn’t smiling at all. He seemed very serious. “Look, I’m just being me here. I’m not playing any games.”
He wasn’t playing games? I found that very hard to believe.
“If this world’s in black and white,” he continued, “I’m in full color. You’re seeing exactly what there is.”
I nodded. “Yes, you are oddly different, Archie.”
He rolled his eyes. “Look—will you go out with me, or not.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Well, why not?”
What a witless answer. “Don’t give me that. I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“No, I asked you first, so you answer me first.”
I narrowed my eyes. Okay, so I inadvertently let him turn the tables on me. How smart.
I looked away and gave the impression I was considering his offer. The truth, however, was I didn’t know what to say. His ‘black and white’ question forced me to give an equally ‘black and white’ answer—yes or no.
If I told him about… No; he likely wouldn’t care and ask me out regardless. And if I told him I wasn’t into boys? An amusing thought, but that wouldn’t work. He’d be more intrigued and ask my would-be girlfriend out as well.
“What’ll it be, Anna?”
I was considering every angle of this situation. I could say yes, agree to meet him in an extremely faraway place but not show up. Or what if…
He sighed in exasperation. “Jesus, you think we’ll fall in love and then I’ll break your heart? What’s wrong with you.”
I looked at him in complete surprise. Where on earth did that come from! Who does he think he is!
“We’re just hanging out,” he continued. “What’s the big deal?”
So that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it.
“Fine,” I said.
He smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard now—was it?”
I smiled back but didn’t reply.
He paid for his beers and took the bag. “I’ll be back at six.”
I nodded.
“Later, Anna.”
He left the store, the chimes sounding lightly on the entrance. My eyes followed him as he walked away.
Let’s see who breaks whose heart, Archie Gallagher.
