CHAPTER 5: THE CONVERSATION

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Sitting in front of our house, I gazed into the distance while absentmindedly scratching my itchy ear. Still thinking of Luna, the woman who had entered my room last night, pursued by three Civilian Police occupied my mind. I couldn't fathom how she managed to leave without my notice. Perhaps she took advantage of my pretense of being asleep, facing the wall, silently slipping out through the window. Maybe I failed to realize that she had already departed. Will I ever see her again? Given that Poblacion is a small place, there's a good chance I might still spot Luna one day.

I wonder where Luna could be in Poblacion. I have never seen her in this town before. Moreover, I don't recall ever noticing her at school either. Is she attending school? Is she being chased by the civilian police for violating the curfew? Or perhaps there's an alternative reason...

A sudden thought intruded on my mind, suggesting Luna might be one of the Itims, which seemed impossible. If she were, I'm certain I would have perished last night. Our skins made contact, and I caught a whiff of her sweet breath. It's implausible for her to be one of those with dark lineage. This particular memory compelled me to be here in front of our house so early, hoping to see her passing by the street. Since that incident last night, falling into a deep slumber has become a challenge.

From inside the house, I heard the clattering of utensils in the kitchen. Father was awake, most likely brewing his favorite coffee. Breakfast had already been prepared, and the food was laid out on the table.

"Thor, come inside, and let's have breakfast," father called out in his resonant voice.

"Alright, I'm coming dad," I replied, rising from my seat in front of the house. I immediately headed toward the small kitchen, and there I saw my father sitting at a tiny table, stirring sugar into his coffee.

"Dad, you might be adding too much sugar again, and it could worsen your diabetes," I said, concerned, as I took a seat beside him.

Father smiled and responded, "My child, this cup of coffee brings me joy. Please don't deprive me of it."

"It's not that, dad. It's just hard for me to buy diabetes medication from the pharmacy nowadays," I explained while serving garlic rice onto my plate.

"Don't worry about me, son. I know how to control myself, especially when it comes to sweet food. Plus, even if maintenance medication isn't available, there are herbal remedies that can be used," father reasoned, he smiled as he sipped the hot coffee from the plastic cup.

"It seems that way, at least I reminded you," I replied with a touch of sarcasm, and we began eating our shared breakfast.

"I appreciate your concern for my health, son, and I thank you for that," he laughed out loud. "I simply enjoy life. After all, only buffaloes age. Your father is still strong," he added, flexing his arm to display his well-defined muscles.

I suddenly remembered when I was a child, he would often boast about her work as a farmer and a construction worker. He claimed he could effortlessly lift heavy boulders. He always told me he didn't want me to come home crying and complaining about fights with my playmates. He wanted me to be brave and strong so that when I grew up and he wasn't around anymore, I would be able to take care of and defend myself. That would give him peace, even in the afterlife. He also said there was no coward in our family, especially with the legacy left by Grandpa Arsenio to our family and the to entire Balaue community.

"Ahem, on a different note."

"What is it, Father?" I asked. I noticed his face grew more serious. That serious face makes me always nervous.

"Regarding what happened last night, the girl you were with inside your room, who is she?" my father inquired, a meaningful smile on his face makes me shiver. "You didn't even tell me that you have a girlfriend and you secretly brought her into the house, despite knowing that the Civilian Police strictly monitor the streets."

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