AB OVO
“Good morning, good morning Lucena City, rise and shine! It’s 6:09 in the morning, this is DWSM-FM Infinity 96.3, and I’m DJ Kiko and we’ll be together ‘til nine, for your greetings and requests just call 710-2541 or send an SMS to 09202088118, meantime here’s a song from…”
ME
That is how I started my day in a most dynamic way I could. I’m a disc jockey in one (I’m not sayin’ number one station as everyone claims) of the FM stations here in Lucena. I go on-board from 6am to 9am of Mondays thru Fridays. And I handle a usual call, greet and request program. I’m doing this for almost two years now and though sometimes the routine bores me, I find fun talking to people on the line. There are times that you make friends with regular callers though you do not actually see them.
Why I became a disc jockey is quite unclear; I didn’t even finish my broadcasting major. I shifted to Computer Engineering and accomplished it instead. Why I’m here? Well, my on-the-job training started it all. The Station Manager told me that he wants my service after graduation after being impressed by my performance as technical support.
After several unsuccessful attempts to enter huge companies like Intel, Cypress, IBM or any computer-extensive company, and not wanting to enter any call centers, and not wanting to work as a skilled worker in any electronics or testing firm, I finally accepted the Station Manager’s offer. This is much better, I often sweet-lemoned. I love my job as a technical support staff, but after one of the DJs died in a freak vehicular accident, the Manager told me to take the slot and use my punch lines and jokes for a change.
No way! I ain’t even got a nice voice to become the Lucena’s town crier. Yes I love music, but the music is so cruel not to love me back to sing or become a DJ. It’s only temporary, the manager convinced me. But he defied the meaning of temporary; I’ve been here for two years now as a regular technical support and temporary disc jockey. I learned to get used to it and in fact enjoy it, though it did not appear in my wildest dreams or imagination to become a DJ.
As a technical support, I’m responsible in some techie aspects of the station. From recording, track queuing up to transmission, repair, maintenance and support, station’s website and digital FM transmission, to name a few.
We’re using the technology that I injected during my internship, Winamp® software. I type the song as they request it. I may have such strong confidence that we have everything the listener wanted. More than 100 GB of used space for more than 50 thousand tracks in the playlist. Well, that’s merely a technical trivia, I’m still a computer engineer after all.
MARIE
“And that was the latest single from the Rivermaya, and since we’re running out of time, our last caller for today is…Hello?”
“Hello, hi...” I startled slightly when I heard a very childish sweet voice.
“Yes, what’s your name sweetie?” I shifted my mood to accommodate such type of a caller.
“My name is Marie,” she said excitedly.
“Good morning Marie, how old are you?”
“Six.” For the past two years, she’s the youngest of all my callers. Though it is not impossible, I find it unusual. Giving me an impression that this child possessed some sort of uniqueness.
“Six?!, Hmm, too young, okay sweetie come on greet your friends now…”
“Ok, I want to greet my Mama, my Yaya Isabel and my bestfriend Nancy, they’re all here now, that’s all,” she finished catching her breath as if recited the Decalogue without breathing.
“That’s all? Well, that’s lots of them, it almost consumed my remaining time, and the following slots’ time,” I jokingly said, “and your request sweetie?” I asked.
My mind quickly flew to the stack of ‘modern’ novelty songs that this child will possibly request.
“Hmm, Here Comes the Sun of Beatles,” she slowly uttered. My mental searching abruptly ceased.
“Are you sure Little Marie?” I asked after a second or two seriously confirming her request.
“Yes Mr. DJ, why? You don’t have it?” she asked implying a frown.
“No nothing, of course we have it just for you, is that all sweetie?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then, bye bye, thank you for calling, call again tomorrow will you?” I invited. I didn’t ask her to recite the station name and slogan assuming that she doesn’t know.
“Yes Mr. DJ, bye bye, good day”. Then she hung up.
I just smiled to myself while encoding her request. At least I proved that my impression was correct, that she’s not an ordinary child. What the hell are those Fab Four doing in the mind of a six year old girl. In addition, Here Comes the Sun is not even a Lennon-McCartney collaboration.
THE BEATLES
Ever since then, she consistently called the station everyday. Sometimes persistent that I have to allot a little more minute for her, she just wanted to be my last caller and I’m easily became accustomed to it. Greeting the same set of persons, requesting the same classic song, and as a DJ, I know how to manipulate the situation. I talked to her as if she called for the first time, greet everyone and requested that Beatles piece as if it never happened before. Sometimes I still ask her if she’s sure about her request, and she just giggled.
Before, I thought that she just knew Here Comes the Sun, but I was wrong. One time she recited all the Beatles song she knew and end up catching her breath violently. I barely heard a commotion in her background, maybe her yaya or/and her mother. When things calmed down, I apologized. Damn, she just enumerated the songs sorted by album with matching first line or chorus in tune. Those four British dudes just stole this child’s young heart, and why not, it’s much better than those ‘modern’ novelties like Otcho Otcho, Spaghetti Song, to name a few of Lito Camo’s stupid compositions. For that reason, I thanked that this little girl is blessed.
She explained that she is saddened by the death of George Harrison, November of 2001, and from then on, she used to love Here Comes the Sun. She heard everything about the Beatles from her mother.
MY PREDICAMENT
One Friday, she asked me if she can talk to me off-the-air. I’m surprised that she’s slipping out of her routine. The way she asked me was very mature in nature. No time to wonder.
“Sure, sweetie, why not,” then I switched off-the-air while her song started to play.
“Hello, Little Marie, what is it?” I asked.
“Hi Mr. DJ, can I ask you something?” she asked slowly indicating doubt.
“Yeah, sure, everything you want, except accounting and religion,” I said and then find myself laughing alone. Damn, why didn’t I think a six year old (though she’s bright) had no idea about the problems and complexity of those two subjects. She’s silent on the other end and I picture herself with eyes rolled up and with a big question mark above her head.
“Ehm, what’s your question sweetie?” I quickly revived myself from somehow called embarrassment.
“Can you be my boyfriend?” she asked rather excitedly.
“What?!” I said loudly. I almost spat my cold coffee out to the receiver and keyboard after hearing her query. My assistant and another one on the station confusedly looked at me. I imagine Marie’s smile and maybe a crossed finger while uttering her questions and waiting for my answers.
“What? Are you sure?” I asked quickly but much lower now, afraid that I might have frightened her with my sudden reaction.
“Why, you aren’t free anymore?” she sadly asked.
“No, not that, I mean, don’t you have a playmate or schoolmate at your age that might be fit to be your ‘boyfriend’?”
“You’re the only boy I know so far and I‘m not yet schooling” said she.
“Ah, what about you father?” I asked, trying desperately to drop and break the ‘boyfriend’ thing.
“Papa? He’s not home yet, Mama said that he’s gone to heaven and it will take long time before we can see him again. Actually, I’ve never seen him before.” She monotonously explained. Maybe to hide her emotions.
This time, the keyboard finally got soaked. Stupid of me, I almost hit myself for asking that question. I really felt sorry for her. Like a stupid fish with only a three-seconds memory span, I’m being caught with my own mouth. That’s only when I recalled that her father is excluded in her greet list.
She began to chase her breath again, I always wonder why she’s begging for oxygen every time she speaks a lot of words. I thought that she maybe an asthmatic.
“Oh, I’m sorry Marie, I’m really sorry,” I stuttered slightly, “but why d’you want me to be your ‘boyfriend’, I’m not even that nice-looking man” I said, now trying to pull the descending topic back. I don’t know if it is to lessen her loneliness or just to reduce my guilt.
”I don’t mind it,” she assured.
“Even if I only have one arm?”
“You do?!” she asked quickly.
“Haha, I got you, I’m just kidding.” But the reality is, in a way, she got me like a sitting duck that I have to ride on with this little girl’s play.
“So, have you decided yet?” she finally asked.
“Ok, I’ll accept but…”
“Yey!” she burst into excitement cutting me short, “wait, I’ll tell my Mama, yaya and best friend Nancy, bye.” Then she suddenly hung up. She’s a child again.
I found myself staring at the receiver. But it’s a shot of relief that I brought back her smile before we parted though through a very unusual way.
Hey, I’m not trying to be defensive but I’m no pedophile, the situation just got me.
“What happened?” my assistant asked me, giving me a tissue to dry my soaked keyboard and just noticed that my shirt also shared the mishap but now half dried.
“I have a girlfriend.” I replied, then George Harrison’s last note faded.
STUPID MORONS
The following week, Monday, as the nine o’clock approached, I can’t explain it but I feel uneasy. Like a ticking time bomb. Then she finally called. At first, it was just the same routine as before only that her list is updated with one person, me, as her boyfriend. She even said ‘I love you’ before she bid goodbye and I have to compensate and said ‘I love you too, sweetie’ before she hung up.
“You see girls, I’m not available anymore.” I told the listeners before playing her request.
As the light goes Off-The-Air, everyone, including my boss exploded into laughter and I nearly dropped from my chair. They knew the whole story and, without me knowing, they waited for this child to call and afterwards would tease me. What a bunch of pebble-minded morons to treat those things seriously.
“Hey Kiko, d’you know what Republic Act 7610 states?” my boss finally asked between laughs.
“Yes sir, I do and I also know where the hell I’m going if you dial 163.” I replied with a forced smile while preparing to leave.
“You know what, I love your intelligence.” The other DJ, which follows my slot, expressed with a grin.
“Thank you and you know what, I hate your stupidity to treat those things stupidly,” I retorted, “C’mon she’s just a child and no more than just an avid listener, so cut it off for devil’s sake will you, buy dildo if you want a toy!” My voice ascends per word I uttered.
Then less than a minute of dead silence. I really hate mutant-looking gays who seem to have deviated from the normal evolutionary process. He deserves it for he started it all.
“Okay, okay that’s enough.” The boss said clapping his hands and breaking the tension.
My boss accompanied me while descending the stairs of the station’s building and expressed his apology. It’s safe to assume that he’s shocked because it’s the first time he saw me acting weirdly. We know each other more completely than anyone else in the station. I also apologized reasoning that I have a hangover from the preceding night’s unavoidable drinking session though it’s not true. I’m not an inconsiderate person, in fact, I’m a joker that’s why I know which is funny and which is not. Damn, I’m defensive once again.
SEMPER FIDELIS
After less than a month of our unusual ‘relationship’, she asked me again an off-the-air conversation. Oh no, what now, she wants to marry me? I felt quite nervous somehow. She just wanted to say goodbye because she and her family is going to take a month vacation starting the following day in some place that she failed to mention. She just forgot to mention, I assume due to excitement.
She added that she might not able to call the station during their vacation, that she will miss me. Again, I have to reciprocate, and also telling her that, though no one requested, I’ll play her favorite Here Comes the Sun before I ended my program. She appreciated it and assured that she’ll call me right away when she comes back. I jokingly confirmed but she whole-heartedly promised. That’s not the first time I doubted her age. I asked her to enjoy her vacation before she hung up.
The following day, I found myself unconsciously waiting for her call, though I’m certain that yesterday’s conversation was real. My boss tapped my back and pointed at his wristwatch, it’s already 11 after 9. I quickly queued Harrison then prepared to leave only to find this homosexual DJ impatiently glaring at me. I ate up a part of his stupid program.
Admit it or not, everything that you’ve suddenly stopped from doing, seeing, hearing will cause a huge impact on one’s moral, psychological, emotional or even physical aspect. Or exaggeratedly, a devastating impact. For more than a month without her on the line was really different, but as a DJ, I must always radiate a positive aura to reflect on the listeners. I shouldn’t even imply negative emotions. An actor’s curse it seems.
Then one lazy Friday morning she finally called again just before my program end. She sounds livelier this time and I’m very happy with that. And again her routine, greet list and what else, Mr. Harrison’s masterpiece. I wanted to talk to her some more but the damn phone line is really bad. Then it finally cut off, disallowing me to even ask how’s her vacation and when did she came back in the city, etcetera. Tomorrow never dies, I thought, convincing myself staring at the phone.
CIEL BLEU
The next whole week passed but she didn’t pay a single call. I thought that maybe my assumption that she’s already in the city is false. Friday, after my work, out of having some better things to do, I decided to call her amidst of my hesitation. I review the callers log on the computer to get her number. Her last call was exactly a week earlier, October 8, 2004. But she used a foreign mobile number, with the country code +122. The Internet revealed that it is somewhere in Illinois.
Yeah, that’s why the lines are exceptionally bad. I also noticed that the social status of her family is much higher because they are able to take vacation in of this country. And one more thing I realized, is the great time difference between Philippines and US. If she called the past week before 9 am Philippine time, it’s about 6 pm in West’s Central Time. She simply planned it.
Maybe, she’s still in the US, so I dialed the number but unsuccessfully get through it, either unattended or error in connection.
But my impression dominated by my instinct, I know there’s something that just not right. Again, I review the callers log much farther back and got her local phone number. I called it immediately. A woman with soft voice answered the phone.
“Hello?” she greeted.
“Hello ma’am, good morning, did someone named Marie live there by any chance?” I asked half-certain.
“Oh, hi, you’re the DJ isn’t? My daughter’s ‘boyfriend’,” she said forcing a soft laugh recognizing my voice.
“Yes ma’am, Ah no ma’am, I’m the DJ but…”
“I know mister and you don’t have to explain, I know everything, I’m on her side every time she called you, every word she uttered and everything you’ve told her.” She said interrupting me and ceasing my pathetic attempt to induce an explanation. I felt rather guilty or embarrassed.
“Oh my, is that so ma’am. Is she there? I just wonder why all of the sudden, she stopped calling the station.” I asked.
“She’s here, and she loves to see you. Uhm, mister may I ask you to come over and visit her, she would be very happy and surprised, would you, please?” She asked me, somewhat begging. Her soft voice faded as she speaks.
Since I’m off and got nothing valuable to do, I accepted her invitation. She gave me the address and left the station immediately. I bought some balloons of assorted designs, colors and shapes. I rather told myself that I’m only half-excited before some false implication pressed against me. And I’d rather sound defensive than being accused.
When I arrived at the place where the address brought me, I just stood outside the house for almost five minutes to admire their assets. A very huge, two story mansion, though ancient in motif, it’s very neat in architectural structure. An attic of western design and a garden housed in a clear glass in the far right of the dwelling.
From their gate (a gate which I assume no less than the value of my family’s entire belongings) I have to turn my head about 180 degrees to scale their estate. I’ve never thought there could be a house that big and beautiful here in Lucena that lies at the center of this old subdivision in Iyam. No wonder why America is their vacation spot. I almost freed the balloons during my life’s greatest fascination.
I finally pressed the doorbell button few times then a female voice speaks over the speaker. A red LED indicator just above the doorbell apparatus starts blinking. I figured out that there’s a camera beside the light. That added up to my fascination but being a Computer Engineer, I’m only half-amazed.
“Yes?” the voice asked. Although the voice is nearly synthetic due to technology, I recognized that it was Marie’s mother’s voice.
“Yes ma’am, I’m Kiko, the DJ.” I replied smiling at the camera.
“Ah, yes, just a moment sir,” she said, then a loud series of chinks sounded from the gate’s hidden mechanism. I waited cautiously, amazed but somehow filled with awe.
“The gate’s open as well as the front door, just go inside the house and feel comfortable, is that okay sir?” her synthesized voice instructed.
“Ah, yes ma’am, perfectly,” I quickly replied.
“Very well sir, I’ll meet you in a minute.” She’s gone as well as the blinking red LED. I just followed her instruction.
HEAVEN'S GATE
Upon entering the house, I easily found my way to the living room where I decided to wait there. I patiently waited while wandering around the area, studying the ancient paintings and tapestries. I really do appreciate artworks; I even admired the genuine brick walls, carpets and sofas. Not to mention their centralized air conditioning system. The entirety of the house is of Western design, no doubt, they even have a fireplace. But the structure is pretty deceiving, I notice a couple of tiny cameras planted just around this living area.
On the mini bookshelf, I found a brochure of MTI’s HeavensGate HG-04. Sounds too technical? Well according to my research, it is the latest and widely used security system technology in the world, developed by The Mushroom Technique, Inc. and Intel®.
To explain further, it is powered and managed by a SuperComputer AI and consists mostly of wide-angled high definition micro-cameras that records everything 24/7 to the system’s 1 terabyte hard drive. An infrared camera, a grid array polarization Bluetooth that serves as motion detectors, alarms, locking mechanism, and the 1024-bit security encryption that’s virtually impossible to hack. Only stupid burglars would attempt to breach this house.
I’m always captivated with high technology, that’s why I have idea about their security measures. And with an asset like this, it is logical to have the most sophisticated security system as possible rather than hire a lousy security guard.
ELLIPSES
“Hello Mr. DJ,” she greeted from behind. She just landed from their grand staircase without my notice. I jolted slightly and ending my admiration on one of the painting and almost released my assorted balloons, again.
I quickly turn around and saw this smiling fine woman with her hair neatly tied. She’s much shorter but I assume much older than me for no more than a couple of years. Dressed in a pure white sweatshirt and a light blue skirt.
“Oh, hi ma’am, good morning.” That’s all I’ve said.
“You know what, I noticed our unlikely or rather over formality,” she said, I’m relieved that she noticed that too because it’s also uncomfortable on my part.
“So to end that, I’m Marie.” She said offering her hand for a shake.
“I’m Kiko, pleased to meet you” I introduced reaching hers then asked, “you’re Marie? I thought you’re her mother.” I asked, confused.
She laughed softly then offered me a coffee or juice. She may have noticed that there’s nothing on the table for me to eat. I just said coffee. Then she’s gone before I could express my gratitude and leaving my questions unanswered for the time.
I was sitting on the couch when she came back holding a tray with coffee and some cookies.
“I know you’re quite confused,” she started, sitting opposite to my position. I just nodded. She began explaining. I don’t know but she seems obliged to explain everything.
Her real name is Maria Elizabeth, and Joan is her six-year old daughter. Her sole child. Her daughter insisted that she must be called Marie after watching the animé series ‘The Secret of Blue Water’ which casts an orphaned little girl named Marie en Carlsberg. And because their names conflicts, Joan insisted that her mother must be called Nadia for the reason that it’s the name of the main character which also the foster mother of Marie in the animé.
She also talked about her husband’s death. He is an American, died in a plane crash while attending a business meeting few years ago, September 11, 2001, the one that crashed into the South Tower of WTC in New York.
No way, I thought. I’d rather not believe than have my brain blown away. How could those coincidences possibly happen, but indeed, it’s not impossible that they did happen. And irony of ironies, why I always heard those shocking things every time I’m sipping a coffee. I almost soaked my shirt again.
But she told everything almost monotonously, to desperately hide emotions, I supposed. Although she’s stoic, I deeply understand how she feels. She was even able to smile though she couldn’t hide the bitterness of it.
Her husband, about eight years older than her, serves as a CEO at Intel Philippines in Cavite before he died. It’s also where she met him while working as a clerk. That’s the answer to my amazement just before I entered this house. Only those types of people could acquire this kind of wealth. Not to mention their ultra-expensive Intel-based security system.
CRUEL ANGEL'S THESIS
“Uhm, by the way, where’s Marie, I mean Joan?” I said, trying to change the ambiance and looking up at my assorted balloons which I’m holding since I left the office. I want to at least lessen her agony caused by the loss of her husband. Also, the little girl is the reason why I’m here.
She pointed behind me. I followed and turned my head then saw her. I stood up and slowly moved over to her. Her portrait. A very nice portrait of a beautiful young girl elegantly framed. Ironically, it was the only painting I’ve never noticed while wandering the living area. She carries with her innocent eyes and a smile that defines happiness. I analyzed it carefully, inside the glass, there’s a torn spiral notebook leaf with a childish scribble of the portraits full name: Joan Leigh M. Sutherland.
“But where is she, really?” I asked while turning around. Marie now broke down, drenched in tears, crying silently. I’m lost. My desire to lessen her sadness failed. I didn’t insist any inquiries.
I turned back to the painting, just below it, upon the platform with a flower vase on the left side, on the right of it, there’s a closed white porcelain urn with a pink lace on its neck. The body is embroidered with blue and pink watermark images of a flower. On its side, there’s a neat inscription of a name that I’ve read while ago, only that there’s a specific time inclusion at the bottom of the name.
The balloons, my gift, finally went up the air and hurriedly found their way up the ceiling that instantly refused to give them their total freedom.
KARENAI HANA (NEVER WILTING FLOWER)
After a few minutes, I found myself in front of Joan’s mother. Again, discussing every detail. Joan died in Illinois week ago during her second heart bypass operation. She had a condition that I can’t remember its medical term. She had a malfunctioned right atrium that’s why she’s always chasing her breath, her mother added.
After her first bypass operation, she can’t breathe without oxygen support. And her bestfriend Nancy is actually her private nurse. She doesn’t want to mind everything related to her condition so she renamed everything that would recall it. She even called her wheelchair ‘Gratan’, named after the versatile ship in her favorite animé. She just wanted to be a child, a happy child.
She died Friday, October 8, 2004, around 12:06 US time. A few hours after her last call during my morning radio program. I almost can’t believe that she actually called me before she died.
Though I never saw her alive before, I’m very much saddened by her loss. Sadness is an understatement. I cried, I must admit.
EPILOGUE
The next Monday, I filed a weeklong vacation. And when I’m gone on-air again, sure it was very different. But life must go on, and no negative emotions are allowed on air, though the echo of her childish voice is always there.
And before I ended the program I played her favorite song Here Comes the Sun, as if she requested it a while ago.
Then I realized that I’m just that fragile that I can’t endure the agony anymore. And to escape the nostalgia, I left the station after a few months and luckily made it through Intel with the great help of Mrs. Sutherland’s recommendation letter. I say that working as a Production Engineer is far better than being a DJ, in terms of salary of course.
The Station Manager assured me that as long as the FM station is operating, the song will play every 9am, Monday to Friday.
AD INFINITUM
*whole-heartedly dedicated to the loving memory of Maria (December 6, 1982 – October 8, 2004), in pace requiescat.
Published in Andamyo 7
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