2002-07-16 - 9:57 AM
Anything Is Enough (Chapter One)
'Twas the night before Trina left, and all through the house, were the clickety-click-clicks, of my keyboard and mouse. I had planned on going to her house and bringing flowers for her and her mom, so when the time came, I tried contacting her, but couldn't. In the end, ultimately, it didn't happen. I didn't really fret though, because I was anticipating seeing her off at the airport anyways, whether she liked it or not. <=0) But still, any missed opportunity to see her, is kind of like another weight on the chest, a drop kick to the heart.
It became a night of tossing and turning.
I woke up from my half-sleep at around seven in the morning - looking at my clock was the first time I thought I missed my chance to see her that day. I freaked - and frantically burned up my cell trying to text her to see if she had left and what have you. Turns out, she had woken up late anyways, so in a rushing haze, she was running about, attempting to get herself together for her trip. I asked her which terminal she'd be at - she replied with a blunt "newark terminal c". That's all I needed. So I ripped off my crumby clothes, and put on whatever was closest to me, quickly brushed my teeth, gelled the hair - picked up my keys, screamed to the house that I was taking the Supra and they couldn't do anything about it - and promptly careened through my front doorway. I probably almost tripped on my way to the car. I was running so fast, trying to beat time. Got into the car - pulled out of the driveway, and bolted. It wasn't until after I got my ticket on the Turnpike, did I notice that I was running on an empty gas tank, and that maybe I didn't have enough money to pay for toll, parking, and fuel. That was the second time I thought I missed my chance to see her.
So I was driving at some unholy, hectic rate - weaving in and out of lanes, strategically surpassing every obstacle in my path. My fear of getting pulled over personified into the lump in my throat, as I kept switching glances from my speedometer and my rearview. Good God I was going fast. I looked at the clock, it was about 8:45 - call me stupid, but that had to have been the third time I thought it was over, and I wouldn't get to see her.
I get off at exit 14, and I'm almost relieved, because I knew that I was just about there. But to no avail, it still took about ten minutes to get there. By that time, the clock on my dash had become my enemy. I cursed it for everything it brought to me. I grabbed my parking ticket, and spiralled up the ways to the third deck of the parking garage, finding any spot for me to just drive into. I saw my morning glory and drove right into it - turned off the car with the quickness, stumbled out, and ran. I got into the airport - and I began texting her to see where she was at. No response. So I ran around the place like a chicken without a head, being followed by airport security, because I assume they thought that a little runaround chink by himself was a threat somehow to the world. But I shook them off.
I must've circled terminal C a few times, before the lump of fear in my throat just about turned into the feeling of ill-fate. I stopped to catch my breath. I was in the middle of the nowhere-floor, huffing and puffing, thinking I missed my chance to see her. What's that, the fourth time I thought that? Stupid me. All I had to do was believe.
By some crazy chance, while I was standing there, in disappointment - I randomly looked to my left, for no apparent reason. And bam! I couldn't believe it. It took me a few seconds to make them out, because with a distance of a hundred or so feet, it's hard to make people out. But it was them, just when I almost had given up all hope, about to make my way back to my car. I saw Trina's mom and sisters - but I didn't see her. So I got scared again - but I knew she had to be around. So I ran, and ran, and ran, and in no time at all - I was climbing up the amass of stairs towards them. They noticed me as soon as my feet touched the staircase - well, I guess a small Filipino kid zipping up the stairs at lightning, frightening speeds, is just something that'll catch your eye.
Boy, were they surprised. I'm not too sure if Trina thought I was gonna show, but I'm pretty sure her mom and sisters were shocked to see me though. So I gave them all kisses, and gave Trina a big hug.
We talked a bit, noticing weird things like Japanese girls that looked like they had been cloned, some weird Spanish dude on the upper floor, looking down at us, staring - and these two Asian dudes giving each other the stereotypical oriental bow. "Sayonara!" echoed in my mind from all those movies that drilled it into me. And yup - while we were talking, some little African girl ran into my leg, hehe. Cute thing. But that's aside the story.
As we kept on joking and joking, I felt myself missing her and missing her, more with each word she spoke, and every laugh she cracked. I almost shrivelled up from becoming a cliche. This was like some movie, the farewell at the end of a good ol' black-and-white, silver-screen epic. And as if cued, I interrupted life, and took from my neck - the scapular that I had never ever taken off before.
Her head was turned as I did that. And with stealth and love, I said:
"I'm just gonna put this in your pocket."
I stuck my hand into her hoodie pocket, leaving my scapular, like leaving my strength, my faith - so that maybe it would strengthen her.
"What is it?", she replied, as she dug her hand way in to find what I had left. And as she held the scapular in her palm, she exclaimed, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS! You never take this off."
"No! Take it. I mean, I do expect to get it back, you know. So keep it safe. Hehe."
It felt good for me to be able to give somebody something like that - truly was, sort of a sacrifice. And as I sacrificed my faith and strength, so that she might be safe, I began to let her go and begin the missing. She guaranteed she'd keep it safe - all the while, I secretly wanted a guarantee from God that SHE'D be safe. And in the back of my mind, I'm sure she questioned, and I later found out that she did question, whether or not I had remembered that years and years ago, SHE was the one who gave me that scapular. So she got a last bit of lecture from mommy dearest, and a jesting yell from me to "PRAY TO SAINT ANTHONY!", as she turned back to smile. I could see her anticipation, her worry and fear, her excitement - all rolled up into the look on her face. She was embarking on a journey to new territories. We all held our breath as she got through the detectors okay, and she walked on, unsure of things. One by one, her sisters and mom turned away - I became the last one trying to drink up any last image of her as she faded away into the crowd. And then she was gone.
That was the first time I missed seeing her that day.
So her family and I make our way down the staircase, building up uncertain chitter-chatter. I told her sister how I gave Trina my scapular. I told her how I was kind of fearing that I might get into a car accident ('cause I admit, quite stupidly, for some reason, I'm a little supersticious when it comes to that scapular). As I expressed my worry, she told me not to - even though she screamed, "WHY?! You NEVER take that off!". And as if God just really wanted things to be okay, a nun quite randomly stopped right in front of us. A synchronized "Whoa" came out of us - and she told me that it was a sign. Needless to say, I made it home okay.
We all parked on the same deck, astonishingly, and as we were about to part ways, her mom offered to pay for my parking. As tempting as it was, seeing as I was uncertain if I had enough, I turned it down. "No, that's okay, Tita." Gave her a kiss on the cheek and a rub on the back. "It's okay. Thank you, though."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, of course."
You just can't accept money from adults like that. Besides, where's the chivalry in accepting money - especially since I surprised them at the airport to see Trina. So it all should be on me.
So then we parted ways, told them to drive safely and all - and the biggest smile swept across my face like airplane streams in the sky. I saw her. And even though I missed her already, I found happiness in knowing that this would have to be a great adventure for her - no pun intended. Turns out - I had JUST enough money for tolls and parking. But no money for gas. Luckily, I made it home, even though the gas light was on. Eeks. But things turned out okay. Things always turn out okay. As long as you believe.
...
I walked back inside my house - to find another chapter waiting for me.
