CHAPTER 4

""I like you; your eyes are full of language."

[Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]"

― Anne Sexton

(Tirchanus' POV)

A beautiful Sunday dawns on me today. Just yesterday, I started to rearrange my room and successfully repainted the walls to a soft yellow, which is its original color. I also went ahead and cleaned the entire room. It was no surprise that cockroaches, spiders and rats were running around and staying in those little nooks and crannies available out there but without screaming like a kid who had his first flu shot, I managed to get rid of them as safely but quickly as possible. Dust was no surprise as well as they were collecting on top of my cabinets and on the smallest chandelier I could find in a thrift store that is hanging freely on the ceiling. I was surprised, however, at how the furniture is well – kept. The landlord told me that the previous tenant was trashing the room all over because he was holding parties and "good times." I don't know about you, but the latter seems a little too extreme yet reasonable enough but still. Overall, I think I did well yesterday as I was productive to improve my living condition a little bit. Amura came in yesterday to bring me food that he stole from his friend's house. He told me that she had enough of her being home arrested by her parents for her "safety and virginity" so she made him steal all of their food as much as he can get. After all, they are rich. He liked the place, thought it was chill and spacious for an apartment room. Not to mention, he was jealous of me for having the view of the Tower of Garing directly outside. He said that people would die to have the Tower of Garing as their view, saying that it is "Instagramable," which he had to translate the latter, meaning that it is worth taking loads of pictures to keep. Again, I am not updated in that technology crap and I don't care for it either. Amura is 24 years old so obviously, he's into that. We watched a few shows and drunk a bottle of wine for a few hours before he decided to call it a night and head back to the shop just as soon as he could figure out where the doorknob was.

Today, I don't really feel like painting anything. Plus, Amura and I will be closing the store for renovations because there were leaks all around the roof since last Friday's storm and obviously, our earnings are not enough to cover the repairs so we need to find a way for it but for now, I feel like sketching something just for fun. Sketching eases the tension and stress in me and I transport myself into my mind, where it is endless, unusual and aesthetic. It is zen; it brings peace and order in me just like painting. When I paint, I can feel the breeze of the gentle wind and the sunlight touching my skin while the ambient background of Kalimbahin provides a more immersive experience. Sketching brings it a higher level with raw drawings, just anything I can imagine and that is what I am going to do today.

The sun is still up and it is shinning softly over Kalimbahin. It is a perfect time to sketch so I grab my sketching book from my drawer and a pencil, perfectly sharpened. I also bring a sharpener in case if the lead gets duller and an eraser. I ignore the weather forecast on the TV while I straighten my sleeves. Pfft… rainy my ass!

On Sundays, people go to church early morning as a tradition then head home to spend time with their families so that explains the lack of traffic in the city. Although it is quite eerie, it is a normal occurrence. I am thinking of sketching by the Bughaw River in the park. The river is a large, crystal clear river with a path of stones to step on to get to the other side but the thing is I am not curious as to what lies on the other side. The path of stones goes far too long and it may not end just yet but hey, if I have the money to rent a boat then I will do it in a heartbeat but for now, I will just stick to staying on one side. Not too far from the path of stones is a land where people can camp for the night. The land has a large mountain that anyone can go up with the stairs provided but it was quite pricey to stay there for the night because it is part of a camping bundle. Think of it as a VIP – kind of price with a large tent, excellent camping gear and a beautiful view of the night sky. The land is connected by a bridge where they can look down and see the beautiful fishes living a normal, mediocre life. Fishing is illegal in the park so they can freely swim anywhere, anytime.

I head outside and walk towards the river. The sky gets an upgrade, having more white strokes of clouds passing by, hiding the sun at one point. The gentle breeze that smells of dew from the rain showers last night hits my nose. It is relaxing, peaceful and uplifting. With the sketchbook and materials on my hands, I arrive at the beautiful, crystal clear lake that shimmers like glitter on blue cloth. I sit on the large bolder and open my sketchbook. I take a look at the still water and take a deep breath. The still blue water warms me up as I start to sketch peacefully. Sometimes, we tend to put ourselves in the busiest and nosiest situation out there and we tend to lose ourselves in the process. The world needs silence for just a moment; silence from the agony, from the pain, from the wars and violence of the world. We need silence from hurting and using each other because it is in silence that we reflect on who we have become. I love the idea of silence. It keeps us disciplined and peaceful. If only we can value silence as much as we value family, I think the world can be greener and more harmonious.

I am simply sketching the Bughaw River roughly. I am not really in a hurry to finish it despite not eating breakfast today. I am free to stay for as long as possible. As I am in the middle of my alone time, a certain figure comes into scene. From where I am sitting, I can see a clear male figure. He is wearing a dark blue long - sleeved shirt, black pants and shoes. He is quite tall but considering that I am 6'2, I would say that he is around 5'10 or 5'11. Don't ask, I'm just guessing. He seems to be staring out at the distance as he takes series of photos from his camera. He is enjoying the fact that he is taking his time to admire the view but he is oblivious at the fact that I am just behind him by seven meters. I don't get easily irritated except when Amura tries to test me at times so I let him take his time. Somehow, I find him charming with his soft smile that peaks through whenever he takes a picture. He turns around to find me looking at him as I smile sincerely at his little alone time. He gasps slightly and approaches me. "Hey, were you doing something before I came here?" he asks as he look down on me. His eyes are deep browns that rest on mine. I find myself suddenly attracted by the man that stands before me but my mind decides to slap itself right in the face and puts me back to the regularly scheduled programming. Like an idiot, I ask him what his question was. He was kind enough to ask the question back. "Oh, I was just sketching here when I saw you having a good time taking loads of photos," I answer, looking down at my sketchbook as I avoid eye contact with him. What the hell am I doing? Why am I trying to avoid his face? He apologizes, "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to ruin your moment here. I thought no one was around so I thought that I was free to admire the view." I smile, giggling like a Japanese school girl on the inside at how cute he looks. "Hey, I am not mad. Plus, I didn't want to ruin your moment back there so I let you be," I say back to him. He sighs in relief, letting all the tension and stress that was building up come out into a warm wind that touches my face. "Listen, I have to go but it is nice knowing you, sir," he says before he jogs out, waving goodbye at me. His lean body actively picks up the pace as he travels far from me. I feel the longing to know his name. He is charming, polite and natural. Not to mention, he is beautiful. Somehow, I never thought that I would be falling head over heels for a boy like him. I mean, he is old enough to be in a relationship but still, I find myself regretting not asking his name.

I went ahead and add finishing touches in my sketch. I am just too bothered by the fact that a beautiful stranger like him would come up to me in this day. Normally, I would brush it off but there is just something about him that makes me want to find him and know his name. Is it his body? Maybe it is his clothes? Is it definitely his brown eyes? Am I really emotionally attached to this boy whom I've known for just a minute?

Yes. I, Tirchanus Cortes, am in love with a beautiful stranger and it is the most unexpected thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.

I get up from the boulder I am sitting on after an hour or two of me just staring out into the open river and contemplating on my regrets of not letting him sit beside me and talk to him about life in general. As I am walking towards my apartment, Amura rushes towards me from the back and calls me repetitively. I turn around to see him, panting hard like a dog after a long day of play. He has this face of shock that I cannot decipher. "You need to go to our store now!" he yells as he runs away from me. In my mind, I am panicking because we might have a case of theft or destruction of property or even worse… pest infestation. My instincts kick in and I run for my life. My heart pounds hard in my chest at the thought of our store stolen, destroyed or inhabited by creepy crawlers. My head is constantly spinning "what – if's" like a broken slot machine. Everything around me becomes a blur. Motherfuck! As I arrive in front of the store, I notice absolutely no difference at all. I pant hard and irritation builds up inside me to the point that I storm inside the store to find Amura standing alone with almost all of my paintings gone with just one painting remaining on the wall that is facing in front of me. All of my hardwork is all gone to waste knowing that it has been stolen. All that is left is just two grown men surrounded by white walls with literally just one painting remaining. Trying to deny the fact that almost all of my works have been stolen and only if they are indeed stolen, I ask him with my voice audibly shaking in fear, "Amura, what the hell happened to my works?" Amura looks at me in the eyes and says the most jaw – dropping answer, "They have been sold."

I couldn't believe it. I just cannot believe it. Almost all of my works have been sold. I gasp at the amazing news and instantly, without hesitation, hug Amura tight. I can't believe that this is happening to me. It is just too good to be true. All of my prayers to God have been finally answered. I feel the tears well up my eyes in joy and my chest just wanting to burst in pure bliss. Amura hugs me tight in return but partly because he is proud of me and partly because of the money we earned from that. Everything is alright in the world in my eyes and I can't hold back the tears of joy. "Amura, I need to know now. How many of them come here to bug you today to buy my works?" I ask, holding him by the arms in anticipation of his answer. He looks at me, dead serious and says this, "Tirchanus, there is only one person buying them." My jaw is open for all the flies to come in. One person bought them? Is that person bathing in money in their swimming pool? I tilt my head in response. Amura added, "This person bought 29 of your works, to which he had them loaded into the trunk of his car. He paid in cash and he asked not to give change. I asked him why not buy the last painting and he said that he felt bad that someone would want that painting." Why leave "Truth Word" in here? I ask, full of curiosity, "Who bought them?"

"Hi, I've come back to meet the artist as you promise, Amura," a voice echoes in the room.

Wait…