Chapter VI: The Grandparents
In the early morning light of Brgy. Banggai, the sun casts golden threads over the rice paddies. Tory, wearing her worn-out straw hat and patterned duster, is crouched low among rows of onions, corn, and Tobacco. Melo, a few meters away, swings his bolo like he's fencing with ghosts, clearing weeds with exaggerated flair.
Suddenly, there's a knocking sound from afar.
"Hoy... do you hear that?" Tory lifts her head, squinting toward the gate.
Melo stops mid-swing. "Sounds like visitors. At this hour?"
"Hah? It's already morning Melo, I think you need more coffee. Let's get some from Sigay, I heard they got the best coffee there. Barako Mucho. "
"Apo? Apo", the voice comes from the gate.
They both rise, backs cracking like rice crackers.
As they near the gate, voices grow louder, clearer. Standing there like ghosts from the past are Mercy and Rico, flanked by two tiny humans—Elric and Meric, their children.
Tory freezes.
Melo whispers, "Don't tell me that's—"
"It is," she mutters.
Mercy offers a timid wave. "Hi, Ma... Pa. Adda kami pay (We're Here), Ma, Pa. We thought we'd visit."
Behind her, Rico smiles awkwardly, holding Elric, while Meric clings to Mercy's leg.
Melo leans toward Tory and mutters, "He still looks unemployed. Probably still counting electric posts for a living."
Tory giggles slightly and elbows him. "Hush. They brought the grandchildren."
The gates open with a groan. "Come in," she says.
Inside the sala, sunlight filters through mirrors that line the walls, creating a maze of reflections. At the center, the La Purisima Concepcion statue sits watching over everyone like the queen she is.
They all sit, the silence thick with judgment. Tory and Melo share glances that practically hiss.
"Ric, maybe we shouldn't have come," Mercy mutters.
But just then, Elric toddles over to Melo and raises his arms. "Lelong, Lelong Melo! Carry me!"
Melo stiffens like he's seen a ghost. "Did... he just call me Lelong?"
Tory's eyes widen as Meric waddles over to her. "Lelang, Lelang Tory," she says sweetly. "You smell like corn."
Tory gasps. "That's my lotion!"
From then on, the mood lifts. They laugh, drink buko juice, and the kids run wild in the sala.
By the end of the visit, Melo claps Rico on the back and says, "Welcome to the family. Officially. Again."
Soon, Tory and Melo visit often at Calle Crisostomo, where Mercy and Rico live with Tinang and Conching.
One day, they find boxes everywhere.
"We're moving," Tinang says, fanning herself aggressively.
"Where to?" Melo asks.
"Just across the street. The Baquirens bought this house."
"I thought they just bought half the house?", asks Rico.
"Well, that's what they want us to think." Conching says.
At the Favis House, the new landlords welcome them with patupat, sinuman, bibingka, and longganisa.
"Don't mind the leaks during Habagat," Mr. Lito Favis says cheerfully. "We just use boots inside. Keeps the mystery alive."
True enough, once the heavy rains come, the house sweats like it just ran a marathon. Water seeps in, boots become indoor essentials, and towels hang from every available surface. This also happened back then at their old home, but just a little.
"Mang! Mamang! (Mum!) Karayan met tuy salasen! (The living room just turned into a river!)" Elric yells.
"It's a minor miracle," Rico says. "Our own Lourdes. Just typical of these Hispanic houses."
Mercy doesn't laugh. "Rico, we need money. We need jobs."
"I'm thinking," Rico says, lounging with snacks such as chicharon, cornick, and barkillos.
"You've been thinking for five years. Are you a philosopher now?"
"Call me Pilosopo Tasyo if you may, hehe", Rico laughs.
Finally fed up, Mercy arranges a down payment and leases a bright blue tricycle. It gleams like a spaceship.
"Congratulations," she says flatly.
"What for?", Rico asks.
"You're a tricycle driver now."
"What if I flip it?" Rico protests.
"Then I'll flip you, you Flippo. "
With a speaker, music, and lights inside the tricycle complete with a set of tools for maintenance at the back of the seat, Rico cruises Hermosa. He occasionally picks up passengers. Sometimes, the family also uses it for trips. One time, they go to the northern province to its capital city just to taste fast-food restaurant. The gap from Hermosa to the northern province, is 86.8km. The tricycle is very useful, especially for groceries and buying recipes at the Hermosa Public Market at Quezon Boulevard.
Meanwhile, back in Brgy. Banggai, Tory is just sweeping the porch, when suddenly, Melo rolls up with a shiny gray jeep. Since he already sold the Mercedes-Benz, he got a jeep for a much simpler as he gets old.
"Don Melo has arrived," the neighbors whisper.
He uses the car for supply deliveries and chauffeuring Maxi, their youngest, to the Rosary College at Hermosa. The school was an all girl's school, until they allowed males to come in. The Rosary College is just near the cathedral and the Arzobispado.
With the gray jeep, Restituto becomes fascinated with it. He has been fascinated with automobiles, that he became a mechanic and has a wife at the northern province. Once, he takes the gray jeep out for a drive, but Melo won't allow it.
One Sunday, they all gather for Maxi's investiture at the Metropolitan Cathedral of the Conversion of St. Paul.
The whole family is present: Tory, Melo, Mercy, Rico, Meric, and Elric.
Melo wears white polo and sunglasses, looking like a retired movie villain.
After the mass, they pose before the Arzobispado, its Hispanic facade glowing in the sun.
"Say 1, 2, 3!" Click.
The bond thickens. Mercy, Rico, and the kids visit Banggai often, sometimes accompanying Tory and Melo to Guardino Parish.
Tory spoils Meric beyond reason.
"This one has my humor," she beams.
"You sure, Ma?" Mercy asks. "She also eats with her hands and licks the spoon."
"One and the same," Tory says proudly.
One breezy afternoon, Mercy and Tory sit in the sala.
"These kids... we love them so much," Tory says. "They're angels with dirty feet."
"You've softened," Mercy notes.
"You've grown," Tory replies. "You have mothered and grown up, Mercy."
Mercy blinks back a tear. "I'm trying, Ma."
Across the yard, Melo and Rico sit on the porch, sipping lukewarm soda.
"So you drive now?" Melo asks.
"Yep," Rico nods. "Sometimes from Hermosa to Guardino, Hermosa to Pardas, and sometimes to Unasan and Santolomingo. Picked up a talking martinez bird once and just flew away as it was mocking me."
Melo chuckles. "Finally. A job."
In his mind: From an idle post-counter to a moving man. Progress.
Another Sunday rolls around. The cathedral is packed with relatives from Banggai, neighbors, and even Mercy's college classmate who wasn't really invited but came anyway. They all stand at the back, near the door and beside the giant crucifixion set that almost looks like that it's life-like.
The priest starts his homily.
"Kakabsat ken Cristo (Brothers and Sisters in Christ), Today, we reflect on the La Sagrada Familia (Holy Family). Family isn't just about completeness, but it's about lo-"
"AAAACHOOOO!"
Melo's sneeze echoes like thunder.
Dead silence. Even the golden chandeliers hold their breath. Meric and the others are embarrassed.
The priest blinks. "Bless you."
Melo nods solemnly. "Thank you, Father."
Mass resumes.
Through all the leaks, laughter, roadside stalls, bumpy tricycle rides, and loud sneezes, the family becomes whole again.
Tory and Melo no longer glare at Rico. Rico no longer counts electric posts. And Mercy—Mercy leads with heart, patience, and unstoppable grit.
Life moves forward.
Sometimes on foot. Sometimes on three wheels. Sometimes in a jeep.
But always—together.