Chapter 1
“Here we are, sir. Are you sure this is the place?” the driver asked as he pulled halfway off the road. A white van honked its horn loudly as it passed.
“Yeah, I think so. How much?” Tyler asked, pulling out a fold of paper pesos.
“Eight hundred twenty.”
Tyler handed over 850 and braced himself for the wave of humidity that he knew was coming. The driver handed him his change and opened the door first. With a sigh, Tyler opened the door of the cab and stepped out into the humid tropical sun.
“Here you are sir. You like me to carry this?”
“No, I got it. Thank you.”
“You are welcome sir.”
Tyler gave the guy a nod and took up his suitcase and backpack. He double-checked that the trail he was staring down was indeed between the hardware store and freshwater vendor before lifting his baggage and starting down the narrow walkway, just barely big enough to fit a trike. A couple kids came around a corner and froze in their tracks, eyes wide.
“Hey,” Tyler said. “You know where the Reed house is? Green roof. Next to a house with the columns and beams tiled?”
“Columns?” one of the older children asked. Probably 11 or 12 and definitely playing the part of Big Brother for the group.
“Reed house, green roof, next to tiled house. Nasa ba?”
A couple of the kids pointed vaguely down the trail. Words were exchanged between them, but very few were in English.
“Show me? I have chocolate.”
That got the group moving, running ahead and waving frantically as if to get Tyler to walk faster. It was further down the trail and off to the right down another even narrower trail. The house was plastered over but unpainted. A grey concrete box with the ubiquitous black-framed windows and a green roof which was the only thing that made it stand out. Next door was a handsome house whose columns and beams had been intricately tiled. A spiral staircase reached to its rooftop terrace. On the other side were a few unfinished concrete-block houses and a Nipa hut that had seen better days.
The horde that had led Tyler here seemed to have grown a bit in size, but fairly patiently waited for him to open his bag and start dishing out chocolates, already half-melted in the tropical heat. “Thank you, sige sige.” he said, trying to shoo them off before they started asking for more. He got a few smiles and some unknown words, but they left him be to knock on the glass of the sliding door.
“Hello? Rowena?”
He tried opening the door to poke his head in, but it was locked. So he found a shady spot on the porch and sat down, pulling at his shirt to get some airflow against his skin. He gave his best friendly wave to a neighbor who was staring at the random white guy. The guy returned the wave with a smile, but was clearly watching the foreigner. Tyler pulled out his cellphone.
‘At the house. It’s locked. Is there any way in?’ Tyler wiped his face off with his shirt before a reply came in.
‘Rowena has the keys. She’s probably getting her kid from school now. We expected you tomorrow.’ replied Jun.
‘Not a fan of cities. I wasn’t feeling sick from the flight, so I made my way here.’
‘I sent Rowena a message. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ll have coffee ready.’
Tyler put down his phone and just focused on breathing. It was the hottest part of the day and, theoretically, his room inside would have Air-Con. He just needed to wait until he could get inside. It was probably less than an hour surrounded by the sound of loud music, the bang of mangos falling on metal roofs, and the never-ending calls of roosters, before a young girl in a school uniform came around the corner and stopped dead in her tracks with the same wide-eyed stare the other kids had given him. She had to be nine or ten, with a rounded Filipino face and flat nose. A woman came around the corner, most probably the girl’s mother. Tyler stood up, trying to wipe away any sweat on his hand onto his shorts before holding it out to shake.
“Rowena? Yes?”
She paused for a heartbeat before smiling, giving a slight nod, and taking his hand. “Ah, yes. Mr. Reed?”
“Yeah.” said Tyler, feeling rather awkward.
She grabbed the little girl’s shoulders. “This, ah, this, my daughter. Katelyn.” Her next words weren’t in English and were very much directed at her child. Katelyn reached out for Tyler’s hand, took it, and very briefly pressed it to her forehead. Then there was an awkward moment of staring at each other before Tyler motioned to the locked door and a flustered Rowena fumbled with the keys.
The inside of the house wasn’t any cooler, and it lacked the breeze. The sliding glass door opened into a small living room with a single small sofa against one wall and a large flat-screen TV mounted to the other. The floor tiles were nice. A repeating wood pattern that gave an almost believable impression of wood flooring. The ceiling was unfinished. Boxed out in wood in a style that America needed more of, but the rivets holding the wood in place as well as all the seams were still showing. A single large light bulb sat in the center where a ceiling fan would go nicely. On the opposite side of the sliding door was a very basic kitchen. A door on either side of the TV likely led to the bedrooms.
“My room?” Tyler asked.
Rowena just stared for a long moment. Katelyn pointed to the door closest to the entrance. Tyler opened the wood door and pushed his suitcase into the small room. His first action was to turn on the little window AC unit cemented into the wall. Four bare concrete walls. A wood ceiling with a single large light bulb. Two windows covered by a flower-print curtain, their rods held up by large nails embedded in the concrete coating. His home for the next twenty-something days at a minimum. The only other furnishings were the large Forex box covered in way too much tape he had shipped himself months ago and a pile of bedding. Pillow, blanket, futon pad. That was it. He frowned and poked his head out of his new home.
“Where can I get a bed frame?”
The two girls looked back at him from different rooms. Rowena just looked confused. “Bed?” asked the kid.
“Yes. Frame for the bed. Do you know where I can get one?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. Nasa CR ba?”
“Oh, CR,” Rowena exclaimed with an embarrassed smile and pointed through the kitchen.
Tyler pulled the bag of chocolates out of his pack and stuffed them into the small freezer on his way to the bathroom. The kitchen was nothing special. A rickety table, some plastic chairs that might not hold his weight, and a concrete and tile work surface complete with a sink basin. The CR was appropriately tiled and contained nothing more than a single toilet, sans the seat cover, a plastic chair holding toiletries, and the ubiquitous black tub of water and a pink tabo. The whole place seemed to be running on the bare minimum, but what else was there? A dresser and running water, maybe. No doubt the door on the other side of the kitchen led out to the dirty kitchen. Something America also needed more of. Ubiquitous in the Philippines and yet reserved for the rich in the US, unless you counted a grill.
Tyler did his business, rinsed his hands and then cursed his lack of ability to judge the appropriate amount of water needed to flush the toilet. He wiped his feet off on the mat just outside the bathroom door and looked at Rowena, who seemed to be trying to look busy without actually doing anything.
“Can I have a key?”
She stared, clearly not understanding.
“Key. For the door?” He made a turning motion with his hand and pointed to one of the doors.
“O, a key.”
Within a few more minutes, he had a set of keys to his house and was heading out on a mission to find a bed frame. Nothing against sleeping on the floor, but tropical places had roaches. Florida had been no different.
