She was immaculately
dressed in an elegant black outfit with a pair of matching stilettos. A
similarly black wide-brimmed straw hat obscured the shape of her head, while
its veil covered her face entirely.
There were those who later admitted
that they couldn't help but speculate if she were, perhaps, the other younger
woman kept secret by my father.
However, at the end of the interment
ceremony, the mysterious woman walked towards my mother, dramatically removed
the veil off her face, and kissed my mother on the cheek. Unfortunately, my
mother was too grief-stricken to properly acknowledge her presence. But the
astonished Tia Victoria, upon seeing this woman's face, immediately gasped and
made the sign of the cross.
My face revealed a quick smile -- a
welcomed, though temporary, respite from the sorrow that permeated the funeral
-- for I, too, was caught unaware yet amused by this woman's seemingly
theatrical appearance.
It was Luisa. She flew in to Manila
for the day just to attend my father's funeral.
She has got to be in her 60s nowadays, but at that moment I tried to get a good look at her; wondering if she had retained any of her good looks. I remembered her
back then as being attractively tall with an elegant figure, a pretty elongated
face jeweled with alluring eyes, and her flowing jet black hair seemed to
shimmer and sway with the breeze. Her dark skin tone complimented her
enchanting exotic features which could have easily made either Michael Cain or
Marlon Brando fall head over heels for her.
She grew up in our neighborhood in
Santa Cruz, Manila in an apartment in the eskinita (alley) owned by my
father's cousin. She lived with her parents and two brothers, but when she was
about 14 or so, she moved in next door with another of my father's cousins, Tia
Victoria, a spinster. I wasn't fond of this aunt on account of that folding fan that
she menacingly wielded. I thought of her as someone left behind by a lover who
had boarded one of the Galleon ships with the intention to never return to her
choking arms. You see, Tia Victoria seemed as old as the weathered walls of
Intramuros, with a mentality as archaic as the days of the inquiistion.
Anyway, as Tia Victoria's trusted
companion and helper when not in school, Luisa was soon indoctrinated on the
rudimentary virtues of a true Catholic woman. Her lessons included a visit to
the church every afternoon and the recitation of the rosary before bedtime. And
whenever Tia Victoria dropped by our house, Luisa would always be in tow.
Eventually, Luisa became close to my older siblings due to the range in age
they shared; hence becoming a frequent fixture in our house, either with or
without my aunt.
During her second year at the
University of the East, Luisa's family had fallen on hard times due to the
death of one of her brothers. She had to quit her schooling. She also moved out
of Tia Victoria's apartment and returned to live with her aging parents next
door. She sought employment where she could to help the other brother whose
income as a technician in an optical shop in Quiapo was insufficient to meet
their living expenses.
The ensuing months proved challenging.
Luisa was unable to get a regular job other than the usual odds and ends at the
nearby university belt area that didn't pay much at all. Consequently, much to
Tia Victoria's horror, Luisa accepted a good paying job offer from a
schoolmate's friend -- as a hostess (or now commonly referred to as a GRO -
guest relations officer) at one of Dewey Boulevard's exclusive night clubs. Her
unusual career move defied all that which Tia Victoria labored to instill in
her; taking it as a personal affront.
"Ipagtitirik kita ng
kandila!" she screamed at poor Luisa.
Tia Victoria then launched a vicious
crusade to have Luisa ostracized by the entire clan. But my father would hear
none of her spurious, self-righteous rhetoric. He refused to abide by what he
deemed a cruel judgment. My father opted to keep the door of our house remained
open for Luisa; the only one among the whole clan's nearby dwellings. Tia
Victoria's glaring stare and quivering lips revealed her indignation; totally
unable to utter a single word to change my father's opinion on the matter.
After all, it was my father's house.
So, for the next couple of years,
Luisa continued her regular visits at the house. Her appearance, however, eventually changed; influenced perhaps, by the kind of work she did. She was becoming more
glamorous with each passing day.
Luisa favored the bouffant hairdo
which, in retrospect, a fashion trend that might have started the depletion of
the ozone layer. Her eyes sported those thick long eyelashes, while her stylish
mini skirts made her long shapely legs even more apparent to the adoring eyes
of many men.
She married an Australian she met at
her club. They waited after their baby was born in Manila before they all moved
to Sydney. I was already in high school by then, and the most memorable
conversation we had just before she left was when I had a huge zit on my nose
on the eve of a school dance. Her advice was for me to focus all my attention
on the girl, not on my gargantuan pimple, and that everything else would fall
into place. I wished the zit would fall off my face.
"Remember, Eric," she told
me, "it's the romance that counts the most."
It was at my father's funeral when I
saw Luisa again since she and the baby moved to Sydney. And although she only
had a few minutes to spare before heading back to the airport, she did find
time to put an arm around me as she took the vacant seat next to where I was
sitting.
When I asked how life was in Australia
for her and the baby, she confided that her husband landed in jail for some
major scam he had devised. However, the baby was doing fine, she claimed.
When I asked how they were both getting along without him, she replied,
"You know, I'm in India today and may be Hong Kong the next," ending
her remark with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Like those James Bond
women?" I asked teasingly. "Sort of, but none of that spying
business." She was smiling when she said it but her eyes weren't. She then
quickly kissed my forehead as she got up to head over to her waiting car.
Sadly, that was the last time I saw
Luisa.
* * *
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A very intriquing story of Luisa. I wonder what became of her and her child..I am sure that is your question always. So many people come into our lives for such a short time, but she left her impression on you to this day. It is wonderful that your Father stood by her and that she repayed his kindness at the very end of his life. Maybe she found her happy ending after all.
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