I SHOT MY GRANDMOTHER A GLANCE. Is this her birthday gift for me? An antique portrait?
“She’s Carmelita Montecarlos, the youngest child of Don Alejandro and Doña Soledad Montecarlos," uttered Lola Carmina while still looking intently at the painting. I couldn’t help looking at it and back at Lola again and again.
"Lola, you mean ... She’s a different person from me?" I asked. She nodded with her eyes still transfixed on the painting. Is it true what Dad has been saying that Lola is becoming more senile these days? Has she been watching too many teleseryes that her brain has been added to by them?
I just looked at the painting again. I found myself unable to speak. I look too uncannily like the lady in the portrait. From the shape of her face, to her languid eyes, aquiline nose, reddish lips, long black hair, and fair skin. She’s wearing a red baro’t saya with her hair tied in a neat bun. She seems as if she’s looking straight at me.
“She was the youngest sister of Josefina Montecarlos who became a nun and Maria Montecarlos, my grandmother.” I looked at Lola, whose expression turned earnest and somber. I fixed my gaze at her to see if she was just playing tricks on me. She wasn’t.
Her words made me ponder. That means our lineage can be traced back to Maria Montecarlos. But, why is her sister Carmelita the one I took after? She’s not my great-grandmother after all.
"Lola, why do we look so much alike?" I managed to utter a question. I decided to just agree with whatever Lola had been saying. Maybe it’s true after all— Lola is becoming senile and she’s starting to be unable to distinguish between what’s real and what’s not from whatever teleserye she’s watching.
“Because she’s family. Blood of our blood. Flesh of our flesh,” Lola explained. Well, we briefly discussed genetics in high school. So, sure, we are blood relatives and we share similar DNA and genes, but why is it that we look so exactly alike?
“She died when she was just your age.” I felt my eyes getting even bigger. She died way too young. I know that Lola’s words shouldn’t be taken seriously, but still, I couldn’t help but be moved.
"What? Why? What happened?" I asked. I was not so sure, but I felt that I had to know who she was and whatever it was that happened to her.
“She got so blinded by love that’s why she ended up the way she did,” answered Lola as she turned to look at me. I suddenly felt scared that Lola might transform into the lady in the painting. I wonder what I would be doing should I come face to face with a woman who looks so much like me but who lived many decades, a century even, before I was born?
Maybe we’ll argue about who between us is prettier.
Lola gestured for me to sit down in one of the antique chairs as she sat down beside me. We are now facing the old painting.
“Destiny waited a hundred and twenty-four years for this moment. Are you ready to listen to the story behind this painting?” Lola asked me, looked earnestly into my eyes, and held my hands. I rolled my eyes—What now? Is it storytelling time yet?
“Lola, may we call on Jenny and Emily? For sure they would also love to hear your story,” I suggested, but Lola winced at my words.
“It cannot be. No one else aside from the eldest child of our family must know about this.” Lola Carmina answered, looking even more serious. Okay—so I guess I won’t be able to share this with anyone else.
All I could do was nod. It wasn’t as if I could just refuse to listen to Lola’s story and leave. I might anger the lady in the painting and she’ll go on to haunt me for the rest of my life.
“Carmelita lived a quiet, peaceful, and happy life with her family, the richest in the whole province of San Alfonso. Her parents Don Alejandro and Doña Soledad arranged for her to be married to Juanito Alfonso, the second child of Don Mariano and Juanita Alfonso. The Alfonso family was the most influential family in San Alfonso and ruled the province for many centuries.” So clear were her words that it was as if Lola were telling the story from that point in time.
“Carmelita and Juanito fell in love with each other, that was why the betrothal went smoothly. But everything changed when Juanito died on the very same day of their wedding. Nobody knew why he was killed. A few weeks later, Carmelita took her own life, drowning herself in the *Lawa ng Luha that was part of their sprawling hacienda.” Lola continued the tragic story. What happened to them was so sad.
“You know what, apo, the moment I saw you when you arrived, I thought that you were Carmelita, the youngest sister of my Lola who is in this painting. I can still remember the first time Lola Maria told me the tragic story of her sister. We were also here in this very same room, in front of the very same painting.” I thought to myself, the reason why maybe Lola Carmina wasn’t able to tell the love story of Carmelita and Juanito to Mommy was that Mommy practically lived her entire life in Manila.
“Maybe it’s not just by chance that you and Carmelita look alike because you also share the same birthday. She was born on February 29, 1872 and passed away a week after Juanito died,” Lola said. I was born on February 29, 1996. What a coincidence!
Only a few seconds had passed when Lola handed me an old diary which Lola fished out from a chest. “This is Carmelita’s diary. Read it so you would better understand their story.” I took the diary from Lola’s hands. It was old, thick, and dusty.
“Lola Maria gave this diary to her daughter. She was named Carmen after Carmelita’s name. Carmen is my mother, my full name is Carmina, and I named your Mommy Carmenia. And you are called Carmela,” Lola explained as she stood up to stare at the painting once more.
“It was Maria Montecarlos’ wish to derive from the name Carmelita the names of each of the eldest children born into our family. But, not one of us was born on that same day, that day that comes only every four years.” Does Lola mean February 29? It is only every four years that there is a February 29—a leap year, that is.
Lola Carmen.
Lola Carmina.
Mommy Carmenia.
And me, Carmela.
Lola Maria wanted all of us to have some connection to her sister Carmelita. She must not be disappointed because I am here, Carmela Isabella who comes from a long line of Montecarloses. I was born on February 29, 1996.
Now I know why I was named Carmela. I’m so girly and yet Carmela is my name? How old-fashioned.
I FOUND MYSELF TAKING A DEEP BREATH while lying on my bed in our room. It was already 8:20 pm. I couldn’t fall asleep not only because of Lola’s stories, but the diary she gave me was also bothering me. There was something written on its front page:
Our love story will be written once more on the day of the fourth chance.
This diary has so many profound meanings! And I’m not so good at understanding those kinds of things. I’m also scared to open the diary, because who knows, ghosts may come flying out of the pages! But above all, I’m just too lazy to read. I never really liked reading books.
I was startled by a sudden vibration on my back. I didn’t notice that I had lain on top of my phone. It was a text message from James.
Where are you?
Maybe he was bored and didn’t have anyone else to annoy but me.
He sent a message again.
I miss you.
I laid myself down on the bed again and scrolled through my Instagram feed. Shae’s notification appeared first. So she and James were together at this very moment at a concert. So he misses me! And because I’m a good person, I tapped on the heart icon to “love” their photo.
I tried to close my eyes, but I kept on seeing Shae’s annoying face in my mind. She seemed as if she was trying to say through her photo that she was not having a boring weekend. While here I was, stuck in this centuries-old mansion full of strange and old stories, lying down in the room of that lady who looked so much like me.
I checked the time again. It was still early. I stepped out of the room and peeked into the other room where Dad, Jenny, Emily, and Lola were. They seemed busy. I smiled to myself and ran back to my room—It's time to party!
“ONE VODKA, PLEASE,” I asked the male bartender. I didn’t have a hard time sneaking out of Lola’s house. There was no one guarding the house from the outside after all. I only had a difficult time clambering over the tall fence.
The bar was also very easy to find. Just one click on Google Maps and with the help of the kindly *manong driver and I found myself here. It was just a little weird that the “bar” here in the province was more like a karaoke bar.
“We don’t have that,” *kuya bartender said. These are the only ones we have,” he motioned to the beer bottles and *lambanog at the back. I pointed to the beer that I drink every now and then.
“Do you have any better-looking glasses?” I asked, causing the kuya who is minding the cashier to be a little bit confused before proceeding to go inside the kitchen to fetch a glass which looked like it was taken from his Lola’s cabinet—the kind which contained dinnerware only used when visitors swing by.
I instinctively smelled the inside of the glass first before pouring myself some beer. I took a shot of the glass and posted it on Instagram. Well, Shae had to know that I was also partying at this very moment and that my weekend was far from boring.
"Kuya, can you please change the music?" I asked. I noticed that some customers and I were starting to get bothered by a manong who was off-key singing “Beer” by the Itchyworms. His companions, who were as drunk as he was, were also singing along with him—all off-key of course.
"Ma'am, will you also be using the karaoke?" asked the boy at the counter. I shook my head and finished my beer. I was only here to take a few photos I could post on Instagram after all.
Before I knew it, quite some time had passed by, and I had already ordered two more bottles. I was annoyed at James and Shae. I also hated my course. I was irked at the fact that we were here in this boring place for the weekend while my blockmates were spending the weekend partying.
I stood up and left the payment on the table. I exited the bar and looked for manong tricycle driver whom I asked to bring me back home. There was no tricycle. The driver was nowhere to be found. I started feeling dizzy. I didn’t drink that much for me to be this drunk.
My vision slowly became more and more blurry and it was as if my whole world was spinning around. I leaned on a post and was surprised when that *bakulaw touched me. It was as if all movement around me screeched to a halt and I felt myself hitting the ground.
A SUDDEN BRIGHTNESS streaming through the window jerked me awake. I slowly rose from the bed, blinked twice, before realizing I was back in my room in Manila.
"Daddy! Ate’s awake!" I heard Emily shout from the door before running down the stairs. I looked at my phone and saw that it was still early, but it was already February 29!
"Are you all right?" Daddy asked me. He moved closer to me followed by Jenny and Emily. They had a somber look on their faces.
“Do you already remember?” asked Jenny, which made me think that judging from their reactions, I must have done something terrible.
“Ahhh … ahhh … the last thing I remember, I was waiting for a tricycle outside the karaoke bar …” I could no longer remember what happened next. Was I able to get on a tricycle, get home, and fall asleep?
I was trying to go over my memories when Daddy suddenly shouted, "Carmela!" He was clearly angry. I couldn’t do anything else but bow my head. I really shouldn't have left Lola’s house that night. “Did you know that you almost brought harm to yourself because of your shenanigans!”
It felt like there was something weighing heavily on my chest. “I didn’t mean for anything wrong to happen.” This only caused Dad’s face to redden. He probably didn’t expect that I would be answering back. "From now on, I’m no longer allowing you to go out!" he shouted angrily. Jenny and Emily exchanged glances. Even my sisters were surprised at Dad’s outburst.
"Dad!" I started to protest, but he had already gone out the door.
“Good thing someone came to rescue you, ate. If not, something bad might have already happened to you," Jenny said while sitting down on the edge of my bed.
“What are you saying? What do you mean?" I was so confused about what was happening.
“Somebody from the police station called Lola. He said that you were at the precinct and that you were unconscious. Good thing you have your IDs and Dad’s calling card. A guy dropped you off with another guy whom he said wanted to harm you. That guy laced your drinks with some sleeping meds.”
“Dad couldn’t believe it at first, thinking that you were just in your room. When we reached the precinct, that guy, alias Paolo, had already been placed behind bars. Putting sleeping meds in drinks is his modus. Apparently, he’s in cahoots with the guy working the counter.” Jenny explained while Emily joined us. I felt my heart throbbing at the realization that at that time I was but seconds away from danger … even death.
“That’s why we made a beeline back to Manila yesterday. We were worried that Paolo would come after you after he got out on bail that same morning. The drug has a 24-hour effect so you didn’t even realize that we had traveled all the way home.”
I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe that I almost got myself into deep trouble the other night because of my sneaking out. “Where’s the guy who saved me?” I managed to ask despite my shock.
“He had already left when we arrived at the station. The police mentioned that he left his number and contact details,” Jenny took out a slip of paper and handed it to me.
His name was John but he didn’t indicate his last name.
“Wait, ate, what’s this? Have you gotten into collecting old things?” Emily asked while hesitating to touch the old diary that was beside my bed. That piqued my curiosity. I remember leaving that in my room at Lola Carmina’s house.
“You brought this home?” I asked my sisters.
“No. That’s why I’m asking you what that is.” She opened it and a musty smell rose from the pages causing Jenny to shut it close. I reached for the diary and chucked it in the lowest part of my drawer. I had no intention of reading it at all.
I was planning to call John to thank him, but before I could even begin keying in his number, my phone suddenly rang. It was Pat, the leader of our group project in Philippine History.
"We have an oral presentation later. It was assigned all of a sudden.” Pat said. She gave me the format for the PowerPoint presentation and which kinds of articles we should be looking for. Now I have to read an article about well-known families in Philippine History.
I took a bath and put on a fresh set of clothes. Our class with Prof. Hermios wasn’t until 3pm, but I needed to go to the library because our professor wanted to see the references we would be using for our presentation.
I WAS IN THE LIBRARY LOOKING for references for our article. My head ached from the very long titles. I was startled when somebody suddenly spoke from behind me.
"Hi, babe," James greeted me with a smile. I ignored him and continued to look for books. He is tall, fair-skinned, and chinky-eyed. "How very irritable. I just missed you,” he said. News of this encounter will surely reach Shae if somebody saw us.
"Are you free later? Let's have dinner."
I had absolutely no intention to pay him the slightest bit of attention. "Same place as before," he added, “At that cafeteria near our place.” I paused. That was where we used to eat all the time.
“I’m sorry. I have something to do later. Ask Shae to join you,” I said without turning to look at him. Why wouldn’t he stop pestering me? Why can’t he get it—that I just want a peaceful life!
“But it’s not Shae who’s celebrating her birthday today,” this made me look at him. He was smiling. Smiling that smile that said he had won over something.
I was supposed to say something when a familiar object caught my eye. It was the old diary on a shelf just behind James.
"So, are you in later?" he continued to press me for an answer, but I was too shocked at the fact that the old diary was here. I was sure that I had placed it in my drawer by my bedside. How did it end up here?
I reached for the diary. I could not be wrong. This was it. This was that diary. Does our library carry a copy of Carmelita’s diary? Impossible! It couldn’t have been published and distributed nationwide!
"Hey, what's that? What are you going to do with that? That’s way too old," James asked with a laugh. He must be thinking that I was losing my mind. Even I was weirded out by myself. I have this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, just like it does when something bad is about to happen.
I found myself looking out the window outside the library. There were gathering clouds in the sky and strong gusts of wind. The leaves were dancing to the beat of the wind. “Is there a storm brewing? I hope not because I have something to do later,” James said.
I was surprised when an old lady suddenly snatched the old diary from my hands. She was wearing a long black dress matched with a black veil covering her face. She has gray hair, smallish eyes, a little on the plump side, and porcelain-white skin. She shot me an intense glare. That was scary!
“Excuse me, Lola, but …” she spoke before I could even finish my sentence.
“This diary is not yours! This is not and will never be your story!” she earnestly said. She turned around and exited the library. James and I looked at each other. He laughed but I felt nervous.
I couldn’t explain it, but it was as if there was something urging me to follow the old lady in black and get the diary back. I ran after her but the guard stopped me. I was still holding the two books I was supposed to borrow. I just handed those to him and hurriedly ran after her. James tried to catch up to me.
"Carms! I’ll see you later, okay?" he called on me three times before I turned to him and nodded my head. "I’ll pick you up at 5. I'll call you," he shouted but I didn’t look back anymore.
There was a throng of people milling about the hallway. The last classes of the day had just ended. I saw the old lady walking as fast as she could. She was a bit too far from me already so I tried to walk faster, careful not to bump into anyone.
"Excuse me, Lola!" I shouted, but she didn’t look back. She turned left as more and more people passed by, making it harder and harder for me to weave myself through the thickening mass of bodies, "Wait, please!" I shouted again, this time catching the attention of those around me.
When I turned left I crashed into Shae. “Ouch! What’s your problem?” asked Shae irritatingly while shaking off imaginary dirt. Some students looked at us. I chose to ignore her and instead continued chasing the old lady.”
"You never say sorry. You're such a spoiled bitch," Shae shouted after me. I will not look back even if she continued screaming her lungs out while saying the nastiest things about me. I remembered our friendship back in high school. I recalled the good times with Shae, my old best friend.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I made my way down the stairs. The old woman was briskly walking while clutching the old diary close to her chest.
She stopped in front of the Arch of the Centuries. I ran to her side and tapped her on the shoulder. I was panting when I asked, "Lola, can I have the diary back?" I bent over and cupped both my shaking knees.
The old lady turned to look at me, “*Hija, you cannot have this. Somebody owns this diary, but I can lend it to you for a while,” she had a smile on her face now. A strange smile that seemed to be hiding some enchantment behind it.
“My Lola will get angry if I lose that diary,” I explained. Lola might have a heart attack if she found out that I lost it. It had been handed down for almost four generations for me to lose it just like that.
“Don’t worry. She won’t be mad,” said the old lady with a smile. She motioned as if she was handing me back the diary but when I moved to get it, she clutched it even more closely to her chest. She looked me directly in the eye and slowly stepped backward.
“Wait! You can’t go beyond where you are …” I stopped mid-sentence as I remembered that the urban legend was only for us students. Legend has it that if you walk under the Arch of the Centuries while you’re still studying you won’t be able to graduate.
The old lady was still looking at me intently as she walked backward, slowly, one step at a time, closer and closer to the Arch of the Centuries.
“Your love story will be written again on the day of the fourth chance,” she uttered. Those words sounded familiar. Ah yes, that was the inscription on the front page of the old diary.
“And today is that day,” she added. She cleared the last few steps to the Arch and she vanished in an instant.
