Heal

You can keep it

As I continued toward school, the odd encounter with the boatman lingered in my thoughts. Despite his peculiarity, the pressing reality of my lateness loomed large—I'd likely accumulate five days' worth of extensions by now, urging me to hasten my pace.

This particular school held a special place in my hierarchy of dislikes. Among all the institutions I've attended, this one ranked as the least favorable, especially when rushing to arrive on time—an occurrence that, for me, was all too frequent. It sits perched on a hill, but not the idyllic, picturesque kind one might imagine with lush greenery and tranquility. No, this is Bangkerohan we're talking about—the bustling heart of the city, a sprawling public market in Davao City set upon an elevated terrain. To get to school, I wind through the crowded market streets, braving the blistering heat and weaving between jeepneys, vehicles, and kamote drivers. The norms of traffic in Bangkerohan are so skewed that I've jokingly dubbed it the 'land of counterflow and overtaking.'

Yet, despite my efforts to divert my attention, the memory of the boatman's insistence on returning the coin persisted, casting a peculiar shadow over my journey as I made my way through the chaotic streets.  I couldn't shake off the feeling that something about today was different, and that peculiar coin burned a hole in my pocket. An unsettling feeling lingered, suggesting today was unlike any other, while that peculiar coin seemed to burn a hole in my pocket. Oddly enough, I felt an urgent need to rid myself of it.

"Ate, just spare change please." I almost collided with him. The plea came from a disheveled homeless child, emitting a noticeable odor, asking for spare change. Bangkerohan was never short of beggars, yet despite being in a rush, I couldn't bring myself to turn them away, especially not kids.

Scouring my coin purse, I sought a 10 peso coin and added the peculiar peso from the boatman, relieved to rid myself of it, the need to discard that coin gnawed at me, a sensation I couldn't shake off. Quietly, I extended the total of 11 pesos. But just as he reached out to accept the coins, the child recoiled abruptly. His eyes, once expectant, now held an unanticipated fear, fixated on me with a chilling intensity. "You keep it. Don't ever lose it," he muttered in a tone that sent shivers down my spine.

If the boatman's behavior was strange, now I was undeniably horrified.

Reluctantly, I left the child behind, his words lingering in my mind, but as I looked ahead, my school, in all its pink glory, loomed like an unwelcome, unwanted obligation. The urgency to reach my destination intensified, each hurried step an attempt to outpace the consequences I knew awaited my tardiness. Honestly, if my instructor reprimanded me for five days straight, I couldn't blame her. How did I even dare to show up at this point? My mind scrambled for excuses, realizing none would suffice, and the dread of what lay ahead only quickened my pace toward the school entrance.