The Knight in White Shoes

Everytime Papa carried me in his arms all the way to Ate Bombay’s tindahan, I would get too impatient. I only wanted to buy a milk bar yet the people loved him so much he had to stop and engage in small talks with each of them. Likewise, he loved the people, I could see it from the way his eyes glimmered when they gave him bottled payments.

Despite that, I loved my Father like a hero from the movies, he’s a big man with a wide smile. He was my knight in shining armor, the very first. He was loved by many, he helped people in our little Purok 3 move their couches and cabinets, cook birthday meals for a price, and as a nurse for a living, the people would come to him for medical advice. So the people loved him more because of that. 

On the other hand, I didn’t like how weirdly thin my mother looked. I had a distorted sense of body image, it was not attractive-to-look-at-‘skinny’, it was too skinny, almost shameful. Our neighbors looked at her like she’s a witch, annoying and seemingly arrogant, always stopping Papa from going out with neighbors to play mahjong and sing karaoke. Almost like they wanted to tell her that she’s too epal!

She couldn’t even carry me in her thin arms all the way to Ate Bombay’s tindahan, we would go on a different, longer direction, I didn’t like going out with her to buy milk bar, she doesn’t buy me one, she says It’s too expensive even though Papa can seem to buy every single one of it in the world. 

As a knight, Papa oftentimes, doesn’ t come home early or doesn’t come home at all. But that’s because knights are always too busy saving the world, Purok 13’s world to be exact. When he’s home deep into the night, the door slammed shut, Mama flinched but I didn’t, maybe because he was just out there helping people move cabinets from one place to another arms so tired they’re starting to get heavy. He's my knight after all, he wouldn’t hurt me. So why is my Mama’s frail arms wrapped around me like I’m about to burn?

One late night when my mother scrubbed his white nursing shoes and his breath smelled heavy and of oysters, I didn’t feel like kissing him when he arrived, but when I saw that bag of lomi sabaw on his hands from a birthday celebration as pasalubong. I ran to him and hugged his legs, too small to reach his waist. Mama remained sitting, scrubbing what’s left of Dad’s white shoes. 

I couldn’t wait to eat Lomi, but Mama being Mama, strict as ever, told me to put Papa’s shoes outside to dry. 

“Initon sa nakong sabaw.” She said, cutting open the cellophane of the sabaw and transferred it into the metallic pot. 

I was too small back then, couldn’t reach the clippers to hang it, what I used to do is to recline it beside the door, I let the other shoe fall into the ground, and couldn't care less about Mama’s efforts in scrubbing it white. 

I heard the door of our room slam, I was sure Mama flinched, she always does. The Lomi was not on the table, where is it? Mama is too forgetful, I wanted to eat. 

I could hear them screaming at each other from the outside. 

“Pag balik nako wala pa akong cellphone, ikaw ug imong anak—Ayaw kog palaguta!” The door opened, and Papa was holding a black bag as if he was trying to look for something. I tried to look for Mama from the outside but Papa was just too tall. 

Papa didn’t bother to look at me, he dropped the bag he was holding abruptly and stomped outside, I even saw how he managed to let the remaining reclined shoe fall to the ground with how angrily he stomped out. I finally saw everything that aspired inside. 

Lomi was on my Mama’s clothes, clothes were everywhere, our cabinet door was broken, her eyes bloodshot, broken shards of glass on the ground, and her lips bloody. My eyes fixated on her trembling arms, she was holding on into my school uniform, surprisingly white, unscathed from what just happened. 

“Wala ra nahugaw imong uniform nak.” She exclaimed with her voice trembling, holding my unscathed uniform. 

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of rustling. Our sala was more noisy than usual, I peek through the door slightly enough to see the men in uniform in our sala, while Papa is on the couch smiling like his usual demeanor. The men in uniform were Papa’s friends, the ones we would come across on the way to Ate Bombay. 

Mama was on the other side of the couch, with my Tita Analie caressing her back. 

“Wala man diay kay kaya sa babae pre” one of them said, the other let out a laugh and added, 

“Nganong palayason paman na maghilak hilak man gihapon ug mingawon.” while looking at Mama, still being caressed by Tita Analie. 

Tita Analie looked at them with crossed eyebrows, yet they did not seem to mind. Still laughing along with each other while Papa was tying his shoes. 

I took a look at our dim room, with only little light from the door, the mess from last night still evident, yet Papa’s smile has completely erased what happened last night. I went outside, grabbed the white shoes Mama scrubbed from last night, and as expected it was dirty like she didn’t scrub it. My hands reached out the shoes to him. 

“Bye Bye Papa!”