About a year ago, I met a beautiful kid. I met him at Samal, Bataan when I went to live with fisherfolk for a weekend as part of a school immersion project.
About a year ago, I met this kid. His eyes were wise and happy but there was also a sadness about him. When other kids scampered around and screamed for our attention, Marlon contented with walking along side of us. Sometimes, he contented with walking along side of me. And, I became contented as well.
If Samal were a classroom, Marlon definitely wasn’t the class clown. He wasn’t the most popular kid but he wasn’t a loser either. Maybe he wouldn’t be elected for class president but I like to see him as the one that teachers secretly loved. The one they knew to have character, workmanship and loyalty. But, Marlon stopped going to school. There was no point.
For those of you who know Marlon, I won’t go on with the second half of the story as it was told to us. Just remember that it’s been about a year.
About a year ago, Marlon was etched into my thoughts. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when but I was going to save him.
I never did.
Though, lately and until now, I’ve been seeing him in every wanting face attached to a cupped hand, sleeping on every scrap of derelict cargo box in the middle of a busy sidewalk. The people pass him I hear him rap on my car window.
Not much time had passed but much too much of it. This isn’t a call to action. I’m not planning anything this time. I wish him well but I just can’t. I don’t know how.
It’s sad. Right now it’s sad.
I’ll get over it.
It’s sad.
