CarizzCruzem

Just three hours ago, I was slicing potatoes and carrots into cubes. Dy, having asthma attack yet again, was going in and out of their room. The only other person awake was Charizz, my younger sister, playing PC games.

When I was done, I asked Charizz to wake me up at 2 am to give way for her because I had to use the computer as well. Dy, still awake, was sitting on our couch having a hard time breathing. I slept. I wasn’t alarmed by the attack. You get used to it when you see it happening 3 or 4 times a week.

Once my back touched the bed, I was gone into oblivion of dreams. I dreamt that Charizz was telling me that she and Dy were going to Medicare Hospital.

“Ate, phst! Gising na! Pupunta kami ni Daddy sa Medicare. Two na.”

“O sige, gisingin mo na lang uli ako pag balik nyo.”

After a while…

“Ate! Gising ka na!”

“Oo nga! Gisingin mo na lang ako pagbalik nyo!”

“Nakabalik na kami. Gumising ka! Pupunta tayo ng Medicare. Bibili uli ng nebule.”

I didn’t move.

“Carizz…” I heard Dy’s weak voice, almost pleading.

I got up at once, took the motorbike key and started for the door.

“Mag…pan…talon… ka...,” Dy tried to say, still concerned at how I look even in his situation.

I went back to my room, put on my school pants, ran to the motorbike with Charizz following behind me. She unlocked the two gates. I started the engine. It roared, “Carizz!” I was confused for a while when I realized it was My’s voice.

“Po?!”

“Dalhin mo sa San Lorenzo Daddy mo!”

“Opo!”

“Dad bilis!”

Dy sat behind me. “Go…,” he said, still pleading. I drove in haste.

“Dy, kapit po kayo sa’kin,” as my left hand searches for his hand to put on my shoulder.

“He… sus!” I could hear him saying.

It was supposed to be a five-minute ride only. But I felt like I was driving far too slow than I should. I could notice the houses, the lights, the dog crossing the street… everything. Then I looked at the speedometer. It was pointing between 100 and 110.

This can’t be right!

“He… sus!” Dy, still pleading.

How do you drive this thing faster? I argued with myself while my left hand was still holding Dy’s hand on my shoulder and my right hand guiding the steering wheel.

“He… sus!” he pleaded on.

Damn motorbike!

“He…sus!” his voice still pleading.

I held on to his hand while I overtook the jeepney in front of us.

“Em… m… mer… gency…,”   he told me as I drove in the hospital parking lot. I drove straight to the hospital wing where it said “Emergency”, stopped the engine and didn’t bother locking the motorbike.

“Hin… dipoakomakahinga,” Dy said in one breath. I saw a nurse put a tube with two holes to his nose (I later found out was oxygen). I looked at the doctor and said, “Hika po.” Then everyone moved. One brought a nebulizer, another inserted a needle through his left hand for dextrose, another one gave him a chair to sit on coz he wouldn’t lie on the bed in front of him. I was thankful and cursed the movie I saw some years ago with this guy bleeding to death but wasn’t treated because he had no money in him. My hand involuntarily went inside my pocket and I felt a 25-centavo coin. Yeah, right! I rushed Dy to a private hospital and I only have 25 centavos on me. After a while, I could see him breathing normally again.

A guy tugged on me. “Pakitabi lang po yung motorbike.”

When I reached for the door a voice in me said, “Isn’t this what I want? This is the moment I’ve been praying for. He is dying.” I put the key in the ignition and started guiding the motorbike to the side. I want to see him die.

When I came back inside, I stood beside him. Then this other guy was mouthing something to me. I made out “Phone”. He held out the receiver to me. I took it.

“Hello”

“Ate, sunduin mo na daw si Mommy dito,” I heard Charizz’ voice at the other end of the line.

I hung up.

“Dy, sunduin ko lang po si My.”

Dy nodded.

As I was leaving, the nurse asked a few questions.

“Pangalan ni tatay?” she started asking.

“Armando Cruzem the third.”

“Epilyido?”

“Cruzem.”

“Pangalan? Arturo?”

“Armando po. The third”

He didn’t put III.

If it was another occasion I would insist she put III.

“Ilang taon na?” she continued asking.

Uhm… ilan nga ba? Teka… 3 years tanda ni My… 1961 si Dy… I did a quick math in my mind and said aloud, “45”.

The nurse didn’t hide the shocked looked on her face. I understood. Dy doesn’t look his age. He looks older… someone in his 60’s. I get this a lot, so I wasn’t surprised or hurt, for that matter, even a bit. Some years ago, someone even thought My was Dy’s granddaughter.

“Yun lang po?” I asked.

She nodded, still wearing that shocked face.

While on the way back to our house the same voice in me said, “No, I didn’t want him dead. I just said that because I was angry. Lord, if you heal him… heal him completely… then I’ll serve you, just like what he wants.” The ride this time was quicker.

I waited outside while Charizz kept on bombarding me with questions. In times like this, I keep my mouth shut as much as possible. I didn’t want to say anything… yet. After some minutes, My went out the house and sat behind me. I started the engine and drove.

“Bakit dito?” she asked.

“Mas malapit po dito.”

“Sa San Lorenzo?”

I just squeezed her hand on my shoulder and I drove on. She stopped asking.

On the way back to the hospital, I couldn’t help but think how idiotic I reacted at the situation. First, I got too confused so as to leave the house in short shorts. Then, the way I took to the hospital. I thought about it and cursed myself for taking that route. It was a long cut! But still, under normal circumstances, it would only take me 5 minutes to go to San Lorenzo through that route in 40 mph! But it felt like an hour. I cursed myself for being so idiotic in the time when I needed my brain the most.

Now, My and Dy are in the hospital. Dy told me to go back home because I have school. Damn! I feel like crying now. I remember how I treated him for these past few months. Of course, I still followed what he wanted me to do, but under my breath, I was wishing him dead. There were times when I just couldn’t take the scolding. True, there were some facts to what he’d been scolding me about, but I still thought it was too much.

I don’t know. I am wearing Dy’s wedding ring now. The doctor told me to take the jewelries he was wearing and take out everything from his pocket. From his pocket, I found his driver’s license, SurfMaxx internet card, M. Lhuillier Pawnshop receipt and a 20-peso bill. And they are all lying here in front of me while I’m typing this. I guess the pawnshop receipt was from when he pawned his other ring to pay for the hospital bill of the elderly lady my brother crashed into while driving a motorbike. So yeah, if My didn’t come, we have P20.25 between Dy and me.

I think I will keep Dy’s wedding ring until he recovers… fully.

How do I feel now? Hmmmm… I don’t really know. But one thing is for sure, I won’t be talking much today… thinking about things. Actually, I feel guilty going online while Dy’s in the hospital.

I'm thankful that Dy taught me how to drive.

And with that, adieu…