Chapter XIV: Tripping and Hope
It is the middle of 2004, and months have slipped quietly into the folds of everyday life in Hermosa. The morning sun paints Calle Gen. Antonio in warm yellow as Mercy sits at the counter of the RQ Store, her pen scribbling across a thick notebook. She mutters numbers under her breath while flipping through bundles of receipts and checking stacks of canned goods and sachets.
From the back of the store, a familiar voice calls out, "Mer! Where's the weighing scale?"
She turns her head and sees Rico, bent over a sack of flour and holding a pack of small plastic sachets. He's half-covered in white dust, looking like he lost a snowball fight. He has a scoop in one hand and holding an edge of the shelf in the other. A smaller sack of sugar waits beside him.
"It's right there, under the table. You're stepping on it," Mercy says.
Rico steps back and sees the scale under his feet. "Aha. Aditta met ngayam (There it is) Found it. No wonder the flour felt... heavier than my sins."
Mercy shakes her head with a small smile. "Finish that soon, Ric, then cook the rice."
Rico salutes with the scoop. "Yes, ma'am."
While measuring the last batch of flour, Rico talks idly. "Oh, by the way... I sold the tricycle plate."
Mercy blinks. "You what?"
"I sold it. I have retired from driving people around," Rico says casually, like he's talking about changing socks. "No more 'manong, agmenor ka yenti lubak-lubak!' ('Manong, please slow down on the bumps and pot-holes!') No more three people squeezing behind me smelling of bagoong."
Mercy chuckles but shakes her head. "Well, that's the end of an era. Now hurry up, the rice won't cook itself. Baka makset tu manen. (Maybe it will be burnt again.)"
Rico ties up the last sachet and washes his hands. Soon, the sound of water swishing in the rice pot fills the air. The familiar click of the stove follows, then the soft boil of grains soaking in water.
With Rico busy in the kitchen, Mercy sits on a wooden stool and stares absently at the street outside. A tricycle passes. Someone's dog barks lazily. Her thoughts wander to her three children.
"Hmm, aniya ngata met ububraen da tatta? (What are they up to right now?)"
At the city hall, her eldest, Elric, is deep in his work at the City Engineering Office. Drafting tools lie scattered over a large blueprint. He sketches out a new corner design for a side street, carefully adjusting the slope to avoid flooding. His co-worker leans over. "You make that look easy, bro."
"It's not," Elric replies, straight-faced, "I just make it look like I'm suffering less."
Meanwhile, her youngest, Jonn, is in the middle of a school day at the Hermosa School of Arts and Trades. His desk is a battlefield of books, a half-sharpened pencil, and the smell of freshly varnished wood from the carpentry class nearby. He scribbles notes furiously while his seatmate passes a folded paper. Jonn opens it: "Meron kang baon? (Do you have snacks/lunch?)"
Over in Brgy. Caluipat, Meric is restocking shelves at the Bensmert Store. Her husband Ben stands behind the counter, refilling a jar of candy.
"Ma, someone's asking if we have soy sauce," Ben says.
Meric looks up from the shelf. "Sachet or bottle?"
The customer's voice comes from outside the window. "The one that's for adobo."
"That's... both," Meric mutters before smiling. "We've got both!"
Ben grins. "Married life. One moment it's sweet, the next it's vinegar."
One warm afternoon at the RQ Store, a figure appears at the doorway—Maxi, Mercy's youngest sibling. He wears a neat polo shirt and a teacher's bag slung across his chest.
"Maxi!" Mercy's eyes widen. "From Maynilaan?"
"Yes! Los Sapateros City, to be exact. I have a short break from teaching." He puts down his bag and helps himself to the chair. "And I missed your pancit canton and kare-kare."
Mercy laughs. "Of all the things to miss..."
A few days later, Mercy receives word of a wedding at Guardino Parish Church. The florist in charge is the same one who made Meric's bouquet years ago. Excited, Mercy calls Meric.
"Mayyang, meet me at Guardino Parish Church at nine tomorrow. I want to see the florist again."
"Alright, Mang," Meric replies.
The next morning, Ben stays behind to run the Bensmert Store, while Rico covers for Mercy at the RQ Store. The mother and daughter head toward the church, the morning breeze still cool.
Guardino Parish Church is strangely empty when they arrive. No flowers, no music, no crowd. Only the faint echo of their footsteps on the stone floor.
"Where is everybody?" Meric whispers.
They approach a candle vendor outside. "Excuse ading, where's the wedding?"
(Ading is an Ilocano term, which is in addressing someone younger than you.)
"Oh, it finished an hour ago, madam." the vendor says, lighting a candle with practiced ease.
Mercy and Meric exchange looks of pure disappointment.
"Well..." Mercy exhales, then glances toward the southern gate. "Come on."
They walk out under the Marian Arch, which rises at the top of a slope overlooking the street below. Just then, a Partas bus bound for Baguio pulls up at the foot of the slope. Without hesitation, Mercy waves at the driver.
"Mayyang, Let's go to Baguio. Intan! (Let's go!)," she says.
Meric blinks. "Now?"
"Yes, now!"
And that's how they end up hopping on the bus without any plan, their slippers slapping against the steps as they climb aboard.
As the bus hums along the highway, the two of them take out their trusty Nokia phones and call home.
"Ric, we're... going to Baguio," Mercy says through the line.
"Baguio? You mean now?!" Rico's voice is faint with disbelief.
"Yes, now. Cover the store, please."
Ben's call is similar: "Ma, don't worry about me. Just bring home peanut brittle."
They arrive in Baguio by late afternoon, the air crisp and cool. With no spare clothes, they check into a small hotel and laugh at their situation.
"We're sleeping in our panties tonight," Mercy announces.
"Romantic," Meric says, flopping onto the bed.
The next morning, they head straight to the public market. The smell of fresh vegetables, coffee beans, and longganisa fills the air. They buy Pranella blankets, soft gamosa, and warm sweaters. Meric spots a stall selling phones and decides to buy Ben a Nokia.
"He'll love this," she says.
For three days and two nights, they wander Burnham Park, sip strawberry taho, and shop at ukay-ukay stalls. On the third day, they return home, arms heavy with souvenirs.
Back in Caluipat, Meric notices the store shelves looking bare. She heads to Hermosa for restocking. At Calle Crisostomo, she enters a grocery shop at the old panaderia, the one that looked like a trading post during the American Period. This is none other than the very same building where the side of it, Sion once sold a bottle of water to Melo in the 1950s. Now, it has become a grocery center which is now managed by Sion's children, the now named JTC Superstore.
After paying for her goods, she walks down Calle Crisostomo, turns right at Calle Gen. Antonio, and stops by the RQ Store to greet Mercy and Rico. Then she hails a tricycle back to Caluipat.
Months and more months pass. Ben and Meric pray for children. They try many times—ten, at least—but nothing works. Dr. Alquiza gives them advice, but the results are the same.
Still, they don't lose hope.
Every Sunday after Mass, they go to the right portal of the Cathedral, where the image of the Our Lady of Miraculous Medal stands in a wooden frame, large and almost like life-like. They stand and clasps their hands together in prayer, eyes fixed on the Virgin's gentle gaze.
"Lord, Please," Meric whispers. "We hope that someday, bless us with a child."
Ben's hand rests over hers, their silent prayer carried in the stillness.