PHASE TWENTY

OF AMBITIONS AND DEFIANCE

"Grabe, Mikhail! Nang-iiwan ka na kasi may bago ka nang kasama?" bungad ni Giuseppe nang makitang katabi ko si Michelangelo. He made his way through the raised seating of Buonarroti Hall 1 and waved.

His bright face marked his presence in my brain. His hair was a little bit curly, and his eyes were a little round. He had a pointed nose and his lips looked like they would always smile.

"Hi, Lael! Iboto mo 'ko! Giuseppe Cosimo de Angelis—"

"—Junior."

"—nga pala para sa senado, ang pangit mo talaga Mikhail!" reklamo niya at pumwesto sa tabi ko. Pinagigitnaan na nila ako.

What is with these cousins? Gusto ko lang naman umattend ng art class.

Bumaling ako kay Giuseppe. "I saw your Galatea sculpture. Ang ganda ng ukit mo ro'n."

"Lael," tawag ni Mikhail ngunit hindi ako bumaling. Naramdaman ko rin ang kamay niya sa braso ko.

Ngumiwi si Giuseppe at umiling. "Actually, si Papa 'yon."

Nangunot ang noo ko. "Bakit walang 'Sr.'?"

Tinaliman niya ng tingin si Michelangelo. "Ang pangit niya talaga. Kaya ayaw kong ipagkalat na may 'Jr.' ako sa dulo ng pangalan eh! Hindi cool pakinggan."

Lalong nangunot ang noo ko. I don't fully grasp what he was talking about.

Napansin niya ang gulong-gulong mukha ko kaya napa-buntonghininga siya.

"Takte 'yan. Wala na akong magagawa!" He groaned. "Actually, tinulungan ko nang kaonti si Papa na maghulma n'an. Ta's tinanong niya ko kung anong pangalan ilalagay ko, e nagreklamo ako na dapat pangalan naming dalawa kasi uy, collaborative effort kaya 'yan!"

"Nagliha ka lang naman," Michelangelo commented.

"Hoy, at least may contribution!" reklamo niya. "Kaya ayon, Giuseppe de Angelis lang nakalagay ro'n."

"Pero ayaw mo ng may 'Jr.' sa pangalan mo?"

"Oo, ang old school kasi pakinggan," he answered, dead-straight.

"Anong gusto mo?"

"Gusto ko 'yung the II ang ilalagay para astig. May kaklase kasi ako noong high school na the IV ang nakalagay sa dulo ng pangalan. Alam mo sabi ng teacher namin? Ang bangis daw."

Itinagilid ko ang ulo, naguguluhan. "So... gusto mong matawag na mabangis?"

"Oo."

"Hindi ka naman lobo."

Nasamid si Michelangelo dahil sa sinabi ko. Nalaglag naman ang panga ni Giuseppe.

"Gio," Michelangelo called. "Wolf."

Giuseppe stretched his arms to hit Michelangelo. "Nang-asar pa!"

Tahimik akong nag-ayos ng gamit habang nakikipagtalo sila sa isa't isa. I acted as if they weren't there and tried to shun of the noisiness that they created.

Deafness—being subjective with what I hear.

"Ay!" Giuseppe leaned as if he's going to tell something that was supposed to be a secret.

Tiningnan ko lang siya habang nakadungaw sa may lamesa ko. Ineengganyo pa niya si Michelangelo na lumapit upang makinig sa pinag-uusapan.

"Lapit ka rin ng ulo mo, dali! Maki-chismis ka rin," pag-aaya sa 'kin ni Giuseppe kaya bahagya kong inilapit ang ulo ko.

Their heads were drawn towards the space of my table. I had no choice but to lean a little.

"Alam niyo ba si Tres may napulot daw na singsing?" bulong niya. "Tapos nahuli ko siya noong isang araw nagpunta sa Pavlova Ballet, may dinudungaw. Do'n niya yata nakuha 'yung singsing?"

So, it was Tres who met Lavien that time.

Naramdaman ko ang tingin sa 'kin ni Giuseppe. "Kilala mo yata?"

"What gave you that idea?"

He drew his head back and playfully squinted his eyes at me. Humalukipkip siya at hinaplos ang baba, umaaktong nag-iisip.

"Nag-react ka kasi."

"And I wasn't supposed to?"

Ngumiwi siya. "Alam mo ikaw? Nahahawaan ka na r'yan sa pagsama kay Mika. 'Di pwede 'yan, layuan mo na 'yan uy!"

"You call him so many names," komento ko, natatawa.

"And I wasn't supposed to?" he mocked. "Oo, bakit? May angal ka? Batas ka? Batas ka?"

"Why did you give him another name? You're not fine with Michelangelo?"

"Ang haba-haba kasi ng pangalan ni Mikhail!"

"Parang hindi mahaba pangalan ni Zoren, ah?" Michelangelo fired back.

Why were they arguing in front of me? What were they trying to prove?

"Mas marami kayang letters 'yung kay Tres! Triptolemus Adrastos Lagdameo, parang caterpillar 'yon, ah?"

"Zoren's was Johannes Zoren Moreau Valdellon," saad ni Michelangelo.

"O!" Giuseppe counted the letters with his fingers. "Kay Tres, nineteen letters. Kay Zoren... nineteen din pala. O, pareho lang! 'Di ko sinama sa bilang apelyido ah. Tayo naman! Paiklian tayo ng pangalan, Mika. Akin... walo. Sa 'yo... dose. O, panalo ako! And the shortest name award goes to... drum roll. Sa 'kin!"

Michelangelo rolled his eyes at his cousin. "Ano trip mo?"

Ngumiwi siya. "Wala lang." Suminghap siya. "Nililigaw mo 'ko mula sa chismis, ha!"

"Ang dami mong alam."

Giuseppe chuckled. "E s'yempre, kapalit n'an lagi 'yung pagka-cram ko! Ginagawa ko muna projects ng mga girls ko tapos kina-cram ko sa 'kin. O, 'dibs? Maganda pa rin gawa ko."

Umiling si Michelangelo. "Ang ingay niya," he whispered.

Napalingon ako sa kan'ya, bahagyang gulat. Tinaasan niya lang ako ng kilay.

"At least, 'di ako tulad ni Elton. Ang tukmol na 'yon! 'Ba, pambayad daw sa kan'ya 'yung number ng mga babae?! Ano 'yan, human trafficking? Diyosmiyo."

Hindi ko napigilan ang kaonting tawa dahil sa reklamo niya. Pareho silang napalingon sa 'kin.

"Elton? From what department?"

"Nako!" he jolted out which gathered attention from some of the students. "Photographer 'yon. Matino naman siyang tao, to be honest. Kaso nga lang, loko-loko 'yon kapag hinihingan mo ng service niya?!"

Umayos siya ng upo at ipinaling ang katawan sa 'kin. Determinadong-determinado ang mukha niya, sinasamahan ng galaw ng kamay habang nagkukwento.

"Isipin mo, magpo-photoshoot ka kase kailangan mo 'yon para sa lookbook mo, 'no? Kukuha ka ng model tapos kukuhanin mo si Elton na photographer mo kasi wala kang kamuwang-muwang, e. Pero may skills naman 'yan kaya... good." Nag-thumbs up siya. "Pero, pagkatapos ng photoshoot, babayaran mo. Tapos sasabihin niya sa 'yo, 'Pwede bang number mo na lang?'"

Nahampas ni Giuseppe ang lamesa ko kaya napaigtad ako mula sa kinauupuan. Napalingon ulit ang ibang estudyante sa pwesto ko dala ng ingay ngunit hindi man lang pinansin ng kausap ko 'yon.

"Giuseppe—"

"'Ba! Ganito kalakalan dito kaya kung may gusto kang i-hire na photographer, 'wag 'yang si Elton. Marami body count n'an."

"Bitter ka lang kasi naka-chat niya 'yung crush mo."

Napunta ang tingin ko sa likod niya at nakitang may nakatayong lalake sa likod niya. Nang makita niya ang tingin ko, kumaway siya at ngumiti sa 'kin.

"Hi! Ikaw si Lael?"

I was silent for a while before I nodded.

The guy, which I guess was Michelangelo's friend, had freshly cut hair. His eyes were outgoing and friendly while his lips had a courteous smile.

He stretched his hand. "Zoren nga pala—"

Giuseppe swatted Zoren's hand. "Pintor ka, ba't ka nandito? Para sa mga sculptor lang 'to, uy!"

Zoren chuckled and shook his head. "Wala kayong klase. 'Di mo ba nakita na konti na lang estudyante rito?"

Nilingon ko ang nasa babang upuan at nakitang kumonti ang bilang ng mga estudyante.

When I looked at my table to fix my things, Michelangelo was already finished with it. Hawak-hawak pa niya ang bag ko at nakasukbit na sa balikat niya.

Nakapamulsa siyang tumayo, handa nang umalis.

"Susunduin mo kame? Ano ka, taxi driver?" saad ni Giuseppe.

"Sosyal mo naman kung taxi pang-sundo ko sa 'yo. Tricycle driver ako."

Maingay na tumayo si Giuseppe at mapaglarong hinamon. "Yabang ng dayo na 'to, ah!"

I felt Michelangelo's hand on my wrist. I looked at him when he tugged it.

What?

He drew his face near my ear and whispered, "Tayo na."

Sinilip ko ang cellphone upang i-check ang schedule. Unti-unti na akong napatatayo. "May pupuntahan ako."

"Sasamahan kita," he whispered back.

"E si Mikhail—"

"May pupuntahan 'yan," pagpuputol ni Zoren. "Right, Mika? May pupuntahan kayo ni Lael?"

Inabot ko ang strap ng bag ko na nasa balikat niya. Hinuli niya ang kamay kong nagtatangkang abutin 'yon at itinuon ang tingin sa mga kaibigan niya.

"Yep."

I looked back at his friends to ask for help, but all that I could ever see was Giuseppe being dragged away by Zoren. Nagmamaktol na si Giuseppe habang itinuturo kami ni Michelangelo. Tawa at iling lang ang isinagot ni Zoren habang naglalakad pababa.

I followed Michelangelo when he started to walk towards the end. Nang makarating do'n ay pinuwesto niya ako sa harap, inilapat ang isang kamay ko sa likod at bahagya akong tinulak, pinauunang bumaba.

When we reached the end, I tried to grab my bag, but his action remained the same.

I gave up and silently walked beside him. Nang pinagbuksan niya ako ng pinto ay nauna akong maglakad. Hindi siya nahirapang sumabay sa 'kin dala ng mahahaba niyang binti.

"Sa'n ka papunta?"

I stopped walking because I felt lost.

Tinitigan ko ang daan at naguluhan sa tanong niya.

No one had asked me where I was going, nor had I questioned myself on that. I had always been sure of what I planned to do, but this part of the day was unplanned.

I felt... free.

"Do you feel—"

"Lost? Yes."

When I met his stare, he clenched his jaw before he let out a tired sigh. "Hindi 'yan ang tanong ko pero sige."

I looked away when I tasted bitterness.

"Do you want to continue with our mentorship, Lael?" he asked and started walking.

He was my mentor, and he was walking—of course, I'd follow.

"Sige."

We silently walked until we reached the outside building. The fresh wave of warm air hit me which separated me from the cold air of the room.

"May ilang oras pa tayo bago ang sunod na klase," he murmured as he walked beside me.

I knew that, Michelangelo. I had written it in my schedule so I could know where I should go next.

"Have you eaten already?"

I nodded.

"Do you have plans to eat?"

I shook my head.

"Then, your stomach's not hungry."

Sinulyapan ko siya, nagtataka. Sinulyapan niya ako pabalik gamit ang masungit na mata.

"May tanong ako..." He trailed off. "Anong natuklasan mo sa paghahanap mo?"

Was this his first guide question in his mentoring? That was a strategic way to start the topic so he could open a subject, but I was saddened to inform him that it would lead him nowhere.

I blatantly looked at him. "Nothing."

Because unlike you, I was not searching for anything.

My mentor stopped walking. I did, too, and faced him when he did the same.

"'Wag mo 'kong tingnan nang gan'yan," he declared, his soft voice against the swift wind. His word carried a pleading tone as if he was asking me to stop, but the caress of his eyes told me the opposite.

He wanted to be appreciated, not stared at.

Wasn't I doing what he wanted—to appreciate the sculpture that he had become?

I tilted my head to show confusion. It didn't reach him, rather, made him more confused because he was suddenly misled.

"Tingnan na ano?"

Hirap na hirap siyang napalunok. "Your stares made me feel as if I wasn't the sculptor; I'm the sculpture, and you're the one who's molding me."

Nakipagtitigan lang ako.

Why was the sculpture suddenly talking to me?

This all felt like an illusion that I don't want to get out of.

Michelangelo, what was in you that made me feel guided?

✦

A few misdirections and we were back at The Raison, a place that the Head Sculptor decided to hold his sculpture class.

He asked us to go in pairs before he started his lecture that was all about the emotions of the sculpture. He also gave some key points on how to analyze it well.

"Let's start with this sculpture." Iminuwestra niya ang isang replica ng isang sikat na iskultura. "The best way to know their emotions is to start from their eyes towards their face. Kasi kalimitan, walang gaanong ekspresyon ang mukha pero marami sa mata. Sa mga bihasang sculptor, sa close-up mo lang makikita ang buong detalye ng mukha. Sa mata rin nila kalimitan fino-focus 'yung emosyon kasi bottled up ang mga emosyon do'n."

"Ang mukha kasi, ang daming linya. Ang daming composition tapos iba't ibang movement ng linya. Minsan mapupunta tingin mo sa high cheekbones ng mukha, minsan naman sa tangos ng ilong o kaya shape ng labi. Kaya ang key point d'yan, idirekta ang tingin sa mata."

Look at the eyes.

Ipinaling ko ang mukha sa direksyon ni Michelangelo at nakita ang seryoso niyang tingin sa iskultura. Nang naramdaman niyang may nakatingin sa kan'ya, nilibot niya ang mata bago napunta sa 'kin.

"What?" he asked, his tone slightly irritated because I bothered him with the discipline he was immersed in.

Just like the statue beside me.

I shook my head and returned my gaze at the sculpture. May ilang mga estudyante na nagsusulat sa notebook habang ang ilan ay nakikinig lang.

But they all carried the same look—determination. They were all determined to confirm that they were on the right path, and it was all confirmed with the light in their eyes.

I am where I wanted to be.

Mabilis akong nag-iwas ng tingin at tumingin sa sahig. Doon ko muna itinuon ang atensyon habang nakikinig, tsaka na lang nag-angat ng tingin nang mawala na ang pait sa bibig.

Staying here was detrimental.

"Okay, get on with your pairs! I need you to brainstorm about sculptures, okay? Magbibigay ako ng thirty minutes para magkaroon kayo ng healthy discourse sa sculpting."

When the Head Sculptor clapped his hands, a signal that we should go on with our paths, Michelangelo and I were one of the people who scattered inside the museum. Dinala niya ako sa harap ng isang iskultura.

"What do you think of it?"

"A hand asking for help because it is drowning underwater."

Palihim akong suminghap nang may may natandaan sa sarili.

I want to hold onto this emotion, but I was scared that I had let go of it before I could even notice.

"Lael," tawag niya. Tinagpo ko ang tingin niya.

He held his stare. He murmured a few words, clenched his jaw before he shook his head and looked at the sculpture.

"'Underwater' was the name of the piece. Ngayon ko lang siya nabigyan ng pangalan." He sighed. "Hindi ko alam kung ano ipapangalan ko sa kan'ya noon kasi dumaan lang siya sa utak ko. I just want to get the idea out of my head. Nagustuhan nila kaya dinisplay rito."

Nahirapan akong lumunok.

Ang dami kong gustong itanong.

When was this sculpture displayed here? Why was the sculpture unnamed but the name of the sculptor was present? Why did you only know the title now? Because you're waiting for someone to give their thoughts about it?

Naguguluhanako, Michelangelo. At hindi ko alam kung gusto ko bang gabayan mo pa ako.

"Dahil sa sinabi mo, nagka-ideya ako sa pangalan."

Were you saying that I guided you? I would like to ask, but I don't want to be distracted more than I had expected.

Tinitigan ko ang ukit ng linya sa kamay at nakitang natural na natural ang mga 'yon.

The creases looked like it was molded from plaster, but looking at its smooth texture, even though caged in a glass box, it looked like it came from marble.

"What was your take in the life of human beings?" I asked, interested to be guided about his idea with this Underwater piece.

"They are sculptures."

Immobile? I would like to ask.

"Stiff?"

"Meron ding mukhang malambot," sagot niya, nakatitig sa 'kin. "Every man is a sculpture. At early phases, there are people who are properly molded by the best artists. They lived because of the artisan's skills. But old sculptures with an improper form also exists. Ibig sabihin, kahit na matanda na sila, hindi pa rin nahuhubog kung saan sila papunta."

"Like a work-in-progress?"

Tumango siya. "Like a work-in-progress."

"Pero paano naman 'yung hindi malalambot? Where do they fall?"

"Then they haven't found the proper sculptors—the experience and affection for themselves, while those who are soft in the beginning had no form."

"So, you're saying—we are sculptures, and we are also sculptors?"

"Ikaw ang nagsabi n'yan."

Natigilan ako.

What...

"Hindi ba't ikaw ang unang nagtrato sa 'kin na isang iskultura? Nabuksan ang pag-iisip ko dahil sa sinabi mo. Sinasabi ko lang kung ano ang natutunan ko sa 'yo." May maliit na ngiti sa labi niya nang sinabi niya 'yon.

Natutunan...

May naituro ako?

I was speechless because I believed that a directionless person couldn't teach anyone anything. Yet he spoke to me that being with a directionless was the best thing that could ever happen to him.

His gentle gaze and his gentle smile led me to believe that I, indeed, have something to tell.

I sucked a deep breath and felt a hint of recognition because of what he said.

Gusto ko pang matuto.

"How about those who are in the middle, what do their form look like?"

"Whatever their final form would look like." Nakuha niya ang atensyon ko. "Those who are in the middle have no definite form, but their final form is similar to those who are properly sculpted—constantly changing. Shapeshifters."

Nangunot ang noo ko. "Kung nahulma na nang maayos, bakit magbabago pa ang itsura?"

"You know what happens to statues when they're left finished after a long time? It will lose its glaze, its skin would start to fade, its parts would start to chip off, and the soul is unexpected to remain. Moss would grow from the feet before the days would eat away its form. Weathering, erosion, and all sort of things—changes the world could have."

I realized—he had a lot of direction even though he was lost.

"Lael?"

Nainggit ako.

"Ah..."

Nag-aalala niya akong tiningnan ngunit mabilis akong nag-iwas ng tingin.

Dahan-dahan akong umatras, nadaanan ng tingin ang nag-aalala niyang mukha, bago tumalikod at naglakad paalis. Mabigat ang dibdib ko nang humiwalay mula sa grupo, at lalong bumigat nang tahakin ang hagdan pababa.

The stairs felt like an obstacle—it wanted to trip me down because I was disrespecting their home. I wanted to tread it with ease, but the emotions that started to build inside my throat swelled in my chest.

Nahihirapan akong huminga kaya napatigil ako sa paglalakad.

Pumalit sa nakaririnding tibok ng puso ang boses ng mga taong kumakanta.

A small group of people stood on a makeshift stage. They were singing a foreign song that brought different emotions in my heart—emotions that were long buried because I considered them as a misdirection.

The unfamiliar feeling of constricting the throat and painful eyes made its way before me. And for the long years that I had enough of this feeling, I realized that I missed having my emotions to spar.

"Quindi Marlena torna a casa che il freddo qua si fa sentire. Quindi Marlena torna a casa che non voglio più aspettare..."

A baritone voice sang along, which reminded me, could sculptures sing?

Mariin kong naipikit ang mata nang malamang nakasunod pa rin pala sa 'kin si Michelangelo.

He found me.

I felt his presence beside me. It was intense, but at the same time, comforting. Comforting that amidst all the misdirection that I had, he made me feel that no matter how I lost I was, he was there to find me.

He was always there to find me.

"That's a song by Måneskin. Torna a casa which meant 'come home'," Michelangelo started. "They refer to Marlena as the embodiment of their music. They were asking for music—Marlena—to come home."

Come home...

"May gusto ka bang pauwiin?"

I felt his gaze stilled at me as if he was waiting for my answer.

Kinagat ko ang ibabang labi. May naramdaman akong paglapat ng panyo sa pisngi ko.

Pauwiin?

Lael...

I'm asking Lael to come home.