Chapter X: Growth
It is December of 1999, and the sleepy charm of Calle Crisostomo at Hermosa is now bustling with tourists, photographers, and historians. The RQ Store at Calle Gen. Antonio (perpendicular to Calle Crisostomo), a quaint family-run general merchandise shop nestled between a radio station of bricks and wood, and a funeral home, is blooming. Tour buses now regularly stop outside, and Mercy, the store's ever-busy matron, finds herself stocking shelves, slicing cheese for merienda, and explaining the use of an old tin egg beater to curious tourists—all before noon.
On the corner shelf sits a calendar from the town hall: "Hermosa – Declared a UNESCO World Heritage City." Mercy beams at it every morning. Since the declaration, the town's cultural treasures have come alive, and with it, the RQ Store becomes an essential pit stop.
A plaque and monument is unveiled next to the town hall, that indicates that Hermosa is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Back at the RQ Store. After another whirlwind of customer chatter and packaging peanut brittle, crinkles, cornick, puto, and calamay into paper bags, Mercy finally sits down on a monoblock chair behind the counter. She wipes her forehead with her apron, sighing. A glance at the wall clock—it's only 3 PM.
"Ayy Apo, nagsapa pay met lang. (Oh God, it's still early.)" she mutters. She looks at a small photo frame of Meric, proudly smiling in her DWCH (Divine Word College of Hermosa) uniform. The photo is slightly faded but well-kept.
She falls silent. A memory strikes.
She flashbacks to the year 1997. On one unusual day,
Meric storms into the RQ Store, fists clenched, eyes watery.
"Mang," she says, voice trembling, "someone from my class accused me of stealing her phone."
Mercy's broom drops. Her stance stiffens like a general hearing a declaration of war.
"What?! What did you just said, Meric?" Mercy's voice booms.
"I didn't do it! I swear."
Without another word, Mercy grabs her handbag, marches out the door with Meric hustling behind her, still in uniform.
"Manang Conching, take care of the store while we're gone. Let's see who accused Meric", she tells Conching who is also cleaning at the store.
They ride a tricycle to DWCH, where Mercy demands to see the dean.
"Gapu langenen nga sikami ti kabassitan ti balayen? (Is it because we have the smallest house?) I will not let someone accuse my daughter falsely," she mutters.
Since DWCH is small, only offering four courses, there's only one dean. The staff, recognizing Mercy, nervously leads her to the dean's office.
Dean Santos, mid-forties, bespectacled and kind-eyed, sits behind a humble desk.
"Good afternoon po, Mrs. Quadro," he says. "How can I help you?"
"Dean, I am here to clear my daughter's name. She was accused of stealing, and I want the accuser brought in. Now."
Dean Santos nods solemnly. Within minutes, a female student in a glittery headband walks in.
"Were you the one saying that my daughter is a stealer? " Mercy demands.
The girl stammers. "Yes ma'am... b-but it was a mistake—"
"Mistake?! You also called us 'Nakapangpanglaw' (Poorest). Is it because that we are the only one in Hermosa who has a bungalow? Excuse me, umay ka diay tienda ta pagpidoten ka man ti piso! (Excuse me, come to the store, and I will make you pick-up piso coins!)."
Meric is red-faced with both shame and awe.
Dean Santos coughs and says, "I will investigate this."
The very next day, the girl is expelled.
The flashback ends.
The sound of a tricycle's horn pulls Mercy back to the present. Rico, her husband, parks his tricycle in the garage. He walks into the store, slightly sunburnt, and embraces Mercy from behind.
"Where did you come from, Ric?" Mercy asks.
"Just delivered that young Formoso student to St. Paul College at Guardino. It's just near."
Mercy chuckles. "You smell like the whole of Bataan, but ok."
Meanwhile, at DWCH, Meric walks down the corridors. Her hair is tied with a hair pin, and her books are cradled in her arm. She's no longer with Belarmino—or Ben, as everyone calls him. She's dating a guy named Clarence now, and while he seems fine, Mercy and Rico don't quite trust him since he is a descendant of a Chinese man, and doesn't actually harbor looks since he has a disability in his left eye.
As Meric enters her classroom, a classmate hands her a folded piece of paper.
"Someone left this for you," the classmate says, with a teasing smile.
Meric unfolds the note. It's neatly written:
From Maynilaan. I hope you still remember me.
Her heart races. There's no name, but the handwriting is oddly familiar.
A week later, she helps Mercy rearrange canned goods at the RQ Store. The bell chimes. A tall young man enters, hair slightly messy, in a white shirt tucked in jeans. Meric freezes.
"Ben?"
He smiles shyly. "Long time no see. I was the one who wrote the letter."
They step outside for privacy. There, under the tamarind tree by the road, he confesses.
"I never stopped thinking about you, Meric. I worked hard. I came back for you."
Meric tears up, overwhelmed. She nods.
"I still love you, Ben."
Days later, while on a date with Clarence at Plaza Jose, Meric calls it quits.
"This isn't working, Clarence. I'm sorry."
And just like that, she's back with Ben.
Ben visits the RQ Store often. One evening, he nervously tells Mercy and Rico.
"I'm dating Meric again."
Mercy gives him a stare sharp enough to peel mangoes.
"Maasawam tu lang ni Meric nu maipakitam ta diplomam kaniak. (You will marry Meric only if you will show your diploma to me.)"
Ben gulps. The challenge is set.
Since then, Ben visits daily—not to flirt, but to wash dishes, pick up trash, even help with inventory.
"Ben, you're not dating me. You're applying to be a janitor," Meric jokes.
"Anything for your mom's approval," he grins.
Ben re-enrolls at Hermosa School of Arts and Trades - College of Engineering. He's three years behind, having stopped after his first year to work at Maynilaan for his tuition and scholarship. Meric is just a month away from graduation.
And when that day comes, it's a full-blown celebration. Lechon, balloons, tarpaulins with "Congratulations Meric!" and Rico tearing up with pride.
In the month of December, at the Calle Gen. Antonio home, the Image of Ina Poonbato visits during the last week. Neighbors, church leaders, and elders gather to pray and celebrate.
Mercy, now active in the Balikatan community, exercises each morning with the Vice Mayor and Mayor—both progressive women who laugh heartily while doing zumba at the plaza, and sometimes after, the Mayor grabs a fag and smokes.
Then, on January 22, 2001, Hermosa regains its cityhood. A grand parade floods the streets. Mercy goes to Calle Crisostomo where the Parade is going to pass, waving a small flag, smiling proudly.
"This town, our family, and this store—we've all grown together," she whispers.
And with that, the new millennium begins for Hermosa, with more stories yet to bloom.