[I often get a few scenes in my head that I really feel like putting into words, but somehow they never make it beyond scenes. I'm not the novel/short story type of person. My scenes are just ... scenes. They're pretty much vignettes. It's tough forcing myself to resist writing them down, though, so here goes. I might have other "drops" here in the future. Let me know what you think.]

“Nanay,” he replied when the beautifully-coifed woman asked for his name.

She turned to the camera, unmindful of his illogical and clearly incorrect answer. Sweeping a few stray hairs away from her blouse, she signaled to the camera man to begin.

“This is Louie,” she said, gesturing towards the unkempt young man in the background, “or at least he is to the people of San Isidro.”

Louie remained restless in the background, shifting his weight from one leg to another constantly, his left hand busy pulling pesky lice out of his long and greasy hair.

“It has been six weeks since Louie first showed up in front of Tanya’s Bakeshop, bread and biscuit hallmark of San Isidro. No one knows where he came from; his only answer to every question is a curt and simple ‘nanay‘. It was Mameng — chief baker at Tanya’s — who gave him the name Louie after 80s matinee idol Louie Heredia.”

“He has Louie Heredia’s mouth,” Mameng interjected from somewhere off-screen.

The lady reporter’s mouth twitched slightly, the corners protruding unattractively for a split second. Mameng’s outburst was uncalled for, but not entirely unexpected in a town — nay, country — full of superstar wannabes. She pretended not to hear anything, ignoring Mameng and the dozens of kibitzers jostling for their fifteen minutes of semi-fame before the camera.

There’s a Golden Dove somewhere in here, Marlene. Focus.

Marlene Abueva drew herself up to full height, cleared her throat and swept the kibitzers out of frame with a grandiose sweep of her right arm. Sweetly, she reached out to the catatonic Louie, bringing him closer to television screens nationwide.

“Though approximately 25 years of age, Louie appears to have the mind of a three-year-old. According to Dr. Manuel Bonafe, resident psychologist of the Philippine General Hospital, Louie may be suffering from autism, and is not merely childish or crazy as many of San Isidro’s residents surmise. To date, Louie has refused to say anything other than his usual response, making the search for his family near impossible. Is there hope for a reunion?”

Marlene turned to her cameraman. “Cut. Now this is where we put in the dramatic montage. Tell Joni to find the sappiest song imaginable. I want viewers bleeding tears by the end of this episode.”

The lanky man nodded.

Swiftly, crew members shuffled the still unmindful Louie into the van. He seemed unaffected by the entire commotion, staring intently at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

“Bye, Louie!” Mameng screamed above the crowd’s noise.

The van hurtled towards Bicol, thousands of miles away from San Isidro. Louie stared outside the window, smiling slightly as the world around him descended into a massive vortex of hazy trees and sleeping carabaos.

“We’ll be there soon,” the lanky man assured Marlene, his voice cracking slightly. She rolled her eyes.

It was night when Marlene Abueva finally took her spot in front of the dilapidated hut. Dried mud coated the thatched roof and bamboo walls, barely keeping the entire structure from completely falling apart. Again, she cleared her throat. A tiny nod she sent the lanky man’s way, signaling her readiness to continue with her show.

“It seemed unlikely that Louie would find his family ever again. After all, his mental … handicap … had rendered him completely incapable of providing any relevant information. After much investigation, however, here we are, standing outside his old home. Today, we are bringing them back together. Today, a family is reunited in love.” Marlene emphasized the final word, hoping viewers would pick up on the emotional drama of her story.

Smiling triumphantly, Marlene walked towards the hut and knocked.

A little girl answered the door, her eyes widening at the sight of the beautiful lady.

“Is Adina Dimaulit home, little girl?” Marlene asked a little too sweetly. The girl nodded and ran into the house. A few minutes passed before the old woman appeared, hobbling slightly.

“Adina?”

The old woman nodded. Turning to the camera, Marlene could hardly contain her excitement.

Golden Dove, here we come! Viewers are total suckers for these reality tv sobfests.

“Adina, we found your son.”

The old woman stared at her blankly, blinking a few times.

“Your son.” Marlene’s voice rose a pitch, anticipation turning into something else. Fear?

“Louie’s home,” Marlene repeated, cooing slightly. She reached towards Louie and pushed him forward. The old woman looked at Louie (only she didn’t know him as Louie) and shook her head.

“Adina? Adina? He’s your son,” Marlene insisted, almost shoving Louie at the old woman.

“His name is Goyong,” the old woman sighed, throwing one look at the disheveled Louie.

And then she walked in and shut the hut’s door behind her.

*******************

nanay - mother

Golden Dove - local awards for media