matter to Charles, he loved Manila for what it was, the smoke-belching Jeepneys, the busy street, the street food that so many lean on as a livelihood that you’d never go hungry walking around the city. He loved the rush of people trying to get to their destinations and he often wondered why people were so much in a hurry in life that the end of it all led to one point which was death. Charles didn’t have an ideal Manila in his mind, he loved what he saw since the first day he crossed the bridge and saw the clock tower, Manila was his own city, it was not pretentious, it didn’t hide its stench, it didn’t aspire to be other cities, it had everything it needed – that was how Charles felt about himself. Charles was indeed a lone wolf not because he didn’t have friends, but he looked into things in a different perspective. One that didn’t need approval to anybody, he didn’t need one; he was sure of who he was.
Escolta was just short of a kilometer in length and Charles walked near the end under the scorching heat of summer, finding whatever shade he could go under to. His head was in a pool of sweat, just like how he predicted, good thing he had his face towel and extra shirts with him. Under a white-washed, pre-war building he found what he was looking for. It was an art fair that he had waited for two weeks; it had all sorts of art, from stickers that listed Manila’s historic districts, to paintings by young artists. It also had old vinyl discs and old stuff that were popular decades ago - Old bottles of Coca-Cola, an old cassette player, hand-made diaries and even basketball trading cards.
He loved collecting old stuff because of the history behind it, he knew the importance an object possessed to a generation he never lived in. He would often show these possessions to his officemate. He’d bring out whatever he found during the weekend and tell him all about its history, but his officemate would rather talk about movies and music than the old, dusty and rusty things Charles loved.
He entered and swept across the art fair, looking at every corner, and searched for things that spoke to him. He went through old issues of magazines, old music, the paintings – both the beautiful and ‘modern art’ that could pass as a modern-day trash. As Charles went through these things he started coughing up from all the dust that went up to his lungs, he stood up and coughed up some more. When he couldn’t handle the dust, he went outside and lit a cigarette. But that only aggravated the coughing more. He coughed and coughed, starting to spit out and he sat at the ledge of the street when someone patted his back to help him clear his lungs out.
“What a great way to die, eh?” said the woman.
“Yeah, well I’m not in a rush to get there, thanks.” Charles responded.
“Soon you’ll realize that dying is all we really look forward to in life. Well, take it easy, fella!”
The woman left and entered the art fair. Charles looked up and all he saw was her back, and the red dress she wore, and how her wavy hair with curly tips toward the end flung against the wind. Charles thought that it was such an elegant dress that effortlessly flowed through her body, she had picked his curiosity. He had stopped his coughing now and finished his cigarette. He stormed back to the art fair but not to look for something, but for someone.
He went through the shop alleys, looking for the girl in red, he swam across the sea of people in the fair, it was a hot, crowded, Saturday and the sun was just retreating into the horizon. Frustrated that he won’t see the lady in red, he gave up, who was she to him anyway, just another passer-by in his life. He glanced to his side and saw an old Vinyl of The Beatles’ “Julia”; he instantly grabbed it and haggled to pay for what it’s worth. It was Charles’ favorite song from band now he has it, even if he doesn’t even have a vinyl player to listen to it, it’ll be part of his collection, and it was to be proudly displayed inside his room, beside his collection of books for all to see. The song meant so much to him, it was his ultimate love song to the woman he hopes to marry someday. For him, to sing this song to a woman meant that he was ready to be with her for the rest of his life and never look back. He almost sang it to his college sweetheart until she broke up with him, Charles was devastated after that, retreating to his room for months, he had quit his job and didn’t talk to any of his friends. He frequented bars to drink until he was too drunk to drive and hoped that a car crash would ultimately end his misery. Charles didn’t want to share his pain, or even talk about it; he didn’t want to be someone’s emotional burden. He didn’t want to be seen vulnerable, but inside, his soul was ripped to pieces and was left on shambles, it trembled and crumbled into the abyss of despair.
He was satisfied of what he had in his possession; he had the song he wanted. But a different melody tugged his feelings that afternoon; he couldn’t get the lady in red off his mind. But now she was nowhere to be found and so he decided to watch the sunset at Jones Bridge instead where he always watched when he was in college. He got to his spot at the bridge just at the corner where the small boats were anchored. He watched the sun slowly dive into the horizon of the Pasig river, with the rays of the sun turning gold while it sets, he also watched tugboats pass by, he’d wave to the boatman and they would respond by blowing their horns, Charles would also listen to the Calesas behind him, these were the music to his ears that he only heard when he was in Manila.
While he looked at the calming sunset, Charles took out the vinyl he bought from the art fair. He carefully looked at the detail of the cover, he held like a child, he smiled and lifted it as if to show everyone that he had a treasure in his belonging. While he lifted his most precious find, a passer-by bumped him and he lost grip of the vinyl, sending it spinning down the Pasig River. Charles watched his favorite song enter the water and flow through the current of the river and out of his sight forever. He stared at the water with his eyes wide open as an owl and his jaws hanging in the air.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” said the passer-by.
Charles was about to lose his fuse, but when he turned around, it was the lady in red. They met each other in the eye, Charles realized there were butterflies still residing in his stomach – waiting for the right time, the right moment, the right girl to make them spread their wings. Her eyes were glazed by the sun’s dying, golden light; he noticed how radiant and sedative her face was, her cheeks wreaked havoc to his senses, she blinked a few times with her round eyes and it was like a gush of wind that blasted through him, she smiled and at that moment Charles’ heart skipped two beats. He was in a trance, stunned and unable to move, even just to bat his eyes. Charles thought that he should be mad at her but he just couldn’t, she defused him.
“Julia, and you are?” she broke the silence.
“Yes, Julia. There goes Julia.” said the stunned Charles.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and it snapped Charles back into reality.
“Oh, nothing! I’m Charles. Hi, Julia. I’m Charles.” He quickly responded.
“I’m sorry I bumped you, I was looking at the other end of the street looking at the post-office building. And that vinyl, how much was it? I’ll repay you.” she offered.
“It’s ok, it didn’t cost much, really.” he said politely.
“But there must be something I could do to repay you, I feel so bad.”
“It’s nothing really, I don’t have a vinyl player anyway.”
“Why don’t you come with me, I’ll treat you dinner in Chinatown, I know a place.”
“It’s really fine, no need to treat me.”
“I insist!” argued Julia. And Charles reluctantly nodded his head in submission.
They walked toward Chinatown. All Charles was thinking about was that he didn’t know if fate was playing him or was it just coincidence that the reason for his misfortune was also named Julia. They would look each other in the eye from time to time while walking but they wouldn’t say a word as both were nervous to the misadventure that was taking place in their lives. Little did they know that it wasn’t coincidence that brought them together but a slight routine change they made during the day. Charl
es took a longer bath than usual and Julia had to pick up the dress she wore because she sent it to the tailor for repairs for it was too big for her and had it adjusted. Somehow they already felt connected with each other despite the short conversation they had on the bridge, there was chemistry not in words but in the way they looked at each other. As if they were lovers in a different lifetime. They walked and Charles finally started a conversation.
“So what’s with this place you’re taking me into? Are you going to kill me with vetsin-flavored food?”
“Ha! Ha! No, it’s my favorite noodle place, they serve great noodles, I frequent that place whenever I’m in Manila, and I don’t think they use vetsin there.” she responded.
Chinatown in Manila during night was a lot different during the day – From the noise of Jeepney barkers and fruit vendors during the day, there was a serene feeling – No blowing of horns, no traffic enforcers blowing their whistle to direct traffic, the Calesas parked quietly at the side of the street, vendors had retired from a long day of shouting and selling commodities. It did not look like a bustling district during nighttime but instead there was only calmness and the street lights that painted the district. Charles