Before the third episode of the Philippines Graphic Literary Workshop (PGLW) concluded on April 18, we knew that we had one more thing that we can offer our bright young fellows: a starting platform for their creative endeavors. Here, we present one of their final outputs from the workshop. We also asked them to provide an artwork that they think best represents their stories. Read on.
Hector looked at the dusty and moldy mirror in the cramped room. The room could barely fit two people along with the fan breathing heavily, holding onto its breaths for dear life. He heard the high-pitched screams outside mixed with stern commands from deeper voices and familiar voices shouting other orders. He wiped off the sweat beading on his forehead with his bony fingers. He put on his big yellow shoes. His red coat was much bigger than he was. He then put on his gloves and hat to complete the look.
Wait. This can’t be complete without the biggest smile his face could muster.
He was much ready to buzz into the gathering outside when he hit his big head and it came clean off his shoulders. It slowly rolled off to the other end of the room, still within an arm’s reach.
The mirror was dirty and cloudy, but you can still make out his tired face with bags under his eyes, his forehead all sweaty, and his prominent cheek bones no longer sporting the large cheeky grin that the head, now on the ground, had.
Long gone was the sunny and bright energy that landed him the mascot duty in the first place. It was as if the remnants of his old self were only preserved in the foam head and plastic face that was starting to reek from the many times he and his other coworkers had to wear it. He thought about the kids outside. The birthday boy must’ve been around his little brother’s age. Remembering him, Hector picked up the head and used it to replace his own to greet the children in the party room.
“Nandito na si Jollibee!” the host exclaimed into the mic, but it was no match to the excited screams from the children inside with some of the younger toddlers even crying at the noise Hector’s presence created. He marched in while his–no, Jollibee’s–theme song played. Hector felt a little embarrassed having to dance and shake around, especially with some of the newer coworkers snickering among themselves and the parents flashing their phones at him to film him, but under the mask, he really had nothing to worry about. Everyone’s table had a coke and chickenjoy on them, his brother’s favorite food. The room had red, yellow and blue balloons everywhere to compliment the racecar theme of the party. His eyes flashed a glance to the big pile of gifts that were almost as tall as the costume was, it was the biggest pile that he ever saw in the days he had to do this. Even after he ended his number with a pose, his eyes kept darting to the side of the room showered with gifts. While the children were playing “bring me” and giving him items announced by the host, he observed as the number of presents grew. He could almost count how many were in the pile by now, and even noticed how a few of them had slid down behind the tarpaulin.
After the party had ended and the parents were putting the pile into bags, he slowly walked away from the room. He slid the costume off with great efficiency, and hurried home. He was careful to have sealed his bag shut so that its contents would not spill out in his rush.
Hector chased down a jeep amidst the splashing puddle water left by the flood from the rain this morning. The neon green lights illuminated the other passengers that the jeep drove by as they chased it, while Hector successfully boarded. Even when the commuters were running after the jeep and slowly filling it, it did not stop moving in fear of being caught by the MMDA patrolling the area. Hector clutched the yumburger ala carte for his brother turning eight years old today. The rosary on Manong’s mirror bounced as the jeep bumped down the road as Hector prayed for a safe ride and less traffic to get to his brother home. The passengers were all tightly packed together, even the costume he wore earlier had more space, he thought. But at least, there was the breeze that would sometimes pick up when the jeep made shortcuts to avoid the bottleneck areas of Pedro Gil to cool him down a bit.
As he boarded off the jeep, Hector was quickly replaced by another passenger trying to squeeze in. In the distance, the driver’s upbeat playlist slowly grew softer as he walked some distance to their home. Hector’s first knock was instantly responded to by a boy who looked like a younger version of him. “Nandito na si Kuya!” The excited Javi ran and hugged his kuya and peeked into the plastic bag.
“Ay!” Javi pouted, unable to hide his disappointment. “Sorry, bunso. Naubusan kasi ng chickenjoy.” Hector lied through his teeth. He forced a smile as he fought back tears over what was an unsaid promise being broken. Hector thought that Jollibee’s big head would’ve been a better look on him now. Him looking like a fool dressed up as an insect with yellow shoes, and a big, red tuxedo, might’ve at least made his brother laugh right now.
Javi noticed how his kuya’s smile disappeared. “Hinde, okay lang, kuya! Masarap pa rin naman ‘to.” He tried to comfort kuya, and he thought it worked. It seemingly brought a smile on kuya’s face as he reached down to his Jansport bag, pulling out a small gift wrapped like a piece of candy, with its cylindrical shape wrapped in red paper and its ends twisted to seal it. “Eto naman! ‘Kala mo ba talaga magpapahuli kuya mo?” Hector smirked in victory.
His brother Javi lept for joy, “Ayos! Salamat talaga, kuya!” Hector’s brother hugged him before he ripped the paper apart in seconds. Hector had to hide his nervousness, as he had no idea what kind of gift he sneakily took from the party held. The red paper revealed a can of chocolate wafers from a brand that sounded foreign. Hector sighed in relief, knowing his brother loved chocolate more than anything in the world, perhaps even including him.
“Yaaaay!” His brother smiled, even bigger than the one before. Javi immediately opened the can and took a bite. “Sarap neto, kuya! Parang stick-o na imported. Eto,” he reached for another one and handed it to Hector who happily accepted the piece. “Mamaya na ‘yan, kanin mo na muna burger mo. ‘Yan kasi matamis, kaya parang dessert ba.” Hector went into his more stern “kuya mode” to have his brother save his sweets for later. “Sige na nga.” Javi sneakily took another bite, putting back the unfinished wafer stick back into the can as he walked into their dining area.
Their mother was working a shift in the call center, while their father was in Dubai, so it was only the two of them tonight. Hector took some leftover food from earlier today on the table. He ate with Javi, feeling the joy rivaled that of the costume he wore earlier. Although this time, it was no longer plastic.
Written by Ziya Gabrielle R. Agulan
