There are many words to express the desire for isolation. Some filtered them through the language of respect, some quoted lines from literature and most just simply worded them with brutal honesty.
Umi was the same. She paraphrased, she respectfully declined and she glared. However, James, her optimistic nemesis, could not simply understand "I don't want to be friends with you."
"But you told me we're friends," James would argue the same. Unlike her, he didn't even bother to be creative with his pursuit of platonic relationships.
Umi would then recall the instances that she explicitly and willingly agreed to. She remembered no such thing. Like an endless loop of history, she found herself at the rooftop, rejecting another offer of lunch with a companion.
He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and read, "Brené Brown said connection is the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard and valued; when they can give and receive without judgement; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship." He put it back and nodded. "I think she's right. You must not distance yourself from others."
"Lao Tzu, Moses, Nietzsche, Emerson, Woolf said otherwise. Stop devaluing solitude. Tiziano Terzani didn't talk to people at one point and he turned out fine. Stop forcing yourself to others."
"Niet-Tizi Teri-who?" James pursed his lips and frowned. "You're smart... that's unfair."
She did appreciate his new attempt to lure her out of her shell, but Umi was tired of dodging him. She was also tired of avoiding Ethan's stare every time she and James would have the same conversation.
"You have a lot of friends, why choose me for your charity case? Pauline, for example. I don't know if she's your friend, girlfriend or whatever, focus on what you have or else you'd lose them."
James remained smiling but the light did not reflect in his eyes. "Bro, I'll get some water." He said without looking at Ethan and left.
"That was crossing the line." Ethan didn't shout, but the words were colder and sharper that they choked Umi.
"What's wrong with what I said? Sooner or later, he'd be left alone. Then I'd laugh at him."
Umi flinched at his tight grip on her arm. She pushed him but it was no use.
"You don't know him! 'You don't know what he went through so you have no right to-!"
He must have read the panic on her face, as he let go and backed away. Umi nestled her arm, still stinging from his grip. It didn't matter if the fear of his touch was evident in his trembling hands. She smiled.
"You don't know me either." Then she laughed, mocking him, and probably herself as well, at the irony.
"I told you to be good to him. Hurt him one more time and-"
"-And what?? she asked. Her laughter subsided to giggles, faintly batting her lashes as she scanned him with malice. "Surprise me."
Ethan watched her still shaking hand, opposite to the daring words coming out of her mouth. His lips formed a thin line, yet his eyes spoke volumes of anger and burned her.
After the door slammed close and she was left alone, only then Umi melted to the floor and congratulated herself. "You did great, Umi. Well done."
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In an afternoon still warm with an orange sky, Umi was surrounded by cliques. Some, like her, were waiting for the jeepney ride home. Some circled a food cart, laughing at their phones while piercing balls of flours. One of them was Pauline's. She said something, gestured a circle with a grin, while Ethan nodded. James no longer smiled in Umi's direction and replied to a question. Soon a black car pulled up.
"Dad!" Pauline's delighted voice competed against the din of the afternoon. "Why are you here? Where is Manong Anton?"
"Your Mom needed him to go somewhere and I just wanted to see you."
The man wrapped his arm around her. Ethan and James also greeted the older man. All the while, Umi could not help but snigger.
Small world.
The man met Umi's eyes. She averted from his recognition and attention to the approaching jeepney, turning from an intersection towards the school entrance. She heard Pauline's farewell to friends and the car engine came to life and zoomed away. Only then did she watch the vehicle becoming smaller by the second.
Should she ask for a car? A personal driver would be nice too. One word and her wishes will come true.
Back in her apartment, her phone pinged for a text message, just right after she took off her blouse.
[You look beautiful as always. See you this Saturday.]
She dived on her bed grinning like the devil. "Small world indeed."
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The singer sang five love songs on stage. One of them was about letting go, one of longing and the other three were of heartbreak. Umi was amazed by the woman who introduced herself with a less creative stage name of "Ruby," as she endlessly crooned the hotel guests and clients with her soulful voice. She showed no signs of ending her performance and the diners clapped to every song.
Umi was the only one annoyed after the song ended. More than twenty minutes had been wasted and the seat across from her was still empty.
Saturday and she was at the same hotel on the same table, shrouded by a fancy partition that separated the table from the public eye. Unusually, the man who had always been early was now late. Another song ended and Umi frowned.
Mid-chorus of the next song, the man finally arrived. "The meeting took longer than expected," he reasoned after an apology.
Food arrived and he began the conversation. "How are you?"
"Fine." She sliced her steak and added, "Let's finish right away."
With a strange give and take, Umi also treated the meal as a business meeting. She needed his money, and he needed her time, apart from other things.
"Sweetheart, let's take it slow. I miss you."
She paused mid drink and leaned back on her chair with a lazy smile. Since they are both sinners, might as well get the best out of her sin. "I want a car," she commanded, even if she wouldn't use it anyway.
"Whatever you want."
"How much time do you want?"
The man stared and after a silence replied, "How much can you give?"
She reached for her drink. "Thirty minutes." Then she sipped the sweetness with a sneer.
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From the hotel, Umi headed straight to the cinema for a children's film festival where theaters showed older movies. The movie began and ended three times, and Umi remained in her seat. She laughed louder and giggled more than any children that surrounded her. Every time, she clapped and gasped in amazement as if she saw a floating house through a balloon for the first time.
The movie ended for the fourth time and people left their seats. She remained in hers, staring at the white screen, waiting for it to be filled with colors again.
"You need to refill that popcorn."
Umi frowned at the familiar voice, turned around and clicked her tongue.
"Doesn't mean it's free, you have to abuse their kindness." James teased, holding a boy four to five years old.
"She's Aunt Umi," he said to the boy. "Don't grow up like her, so grumpy and all."
She was already gone before she could hear the child's answer.
"Baby, wait! " He shouted outside the cinema, earning attention except for Umi's.
"Baby, my baby, in a pink blouse, with long wavy hair, walking away from me! My darling, don't leave me and our child!"
She halted and shut her eyes, ignoring the growing concerns from the mall-goers. "Are they shooting something?" people asked.
Even before she could scold him, he thrust the child into her arms. "Take Odi to the arcade first, I'll buy some popcorn." Then he was gone.
She was agape. Little fingers pulling her skirt stopped her from running after him. Black pair of big eyes gazed up at Umi, slowly revealing a naive smile with a missing front tooth.
"Uhm .. hi." She hesitated whether to hold his hand or tear herself away from the small creature.
His smile stretched wider, while she frowned. "I said 'hi."
Does he know she could leave him? As to how or why children's smiles at strangers were baffling, at the same time, they terrify her.
"Your name is Odi?"
He nodded, his black curly hair bouncing at the enthusiastic nod. The crease on her forehead folded deeper at his mismatched superhero shirt, checkered shorts and neon shoes.
He pointed to the entrance of the arcade then ran and waved at Umi to follow. Gradually, his smile faded when she was rooted on her spot.
With a rough sigh, she took her first step at last, then another and finally, he was able to pull her inside with a grin and arcade lights reflecting his clear eyes.
She looked away, blinded. "Fine, for a little while."
He nodded and jumped in succession.
The whole time they played, he clapped, jumped and pulled her one machine after another. He giggled but never spoke words.
"Give me some coins too."
The smile she didn't know she had collapsed at the returnee. James poked her shoulders from behind. "Coins please."
She thrust the coins into his palms. "Don't leave him to strangers."
Like Déjà vu, Odi clung to her sleeves and she was greeted with his expectant gaze.
Umi really hated children. They scared her. They conquer people without even trying. And so, Umi was defeated.
An hour later, to exhaustion that finally caught up with them, they went home.
"He can't speak yet," James said softly, eyes on the road, driving. Toys, arcade tickets and boxes of leftover burgers and fries littered the back seat. Umi sat on the front seat with Odi sleeping in her arms.
"He's not my kid," he said.
Umi replied a listless "Okay,"
"I'm serious. He's not."
"I said okay."
"Won't you ask me who the father is? This is a conversation you know. Conversation. Help me please."
She could picture his endless whining and that might wake up the child. So Umi, for everyone's peace of mine, mostly hers, asked, "Who?"
"My parents." He beamed, stopping at a red light. "We adopted him five months ago."
Ah, now she understood his "Befriend Umi" agenda. He inherited his love for charity cases from his parents.
"The doctors said Odi would only speak when he's ready. But we do take him to therapy too."
"Why?" she asked in return as the car rolled down the street. It is a law of nature to speak whether you are ready or not. Like babies who mumble sounds and parents assume it means something, no one needs to be prepared for anything.
"I don't know. But the time will come. His first word would be like I'm the coolest or something. I feel it in my gut."
In her silence, he added, "I haven't been able to drive for more than a year, you know, just recently. Sorry for the bumpy ride. " Despite the grin, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "We won't crash, I swear."
"If we do, make sure only you or I die. No others."
"Of course." Then he added with a livelier voice, "See, this is a conversation, Umi. You're doing great."
Gazing at the twinkling city lights, Umi was comforted by the even breathing in her arms. Odie was warm and small, he shifted his head as his eyes remained closed.
The car slowed down at another intersection and red light.
"She came from church." Umi finally broke the deafening silence. She caressed the sleeping boy's back, as she figured out better ways to thread her next words. "My Mom... she was from church when she died."
The car was quiet except for the faint roar of the engine as they moved.
"The driver lost control of the wheel, they said. The driver died too."
"I'm sorry," he said.
A faint snigger escaped her throat. "For what? Did you kill her?"
"No, but still.."
No one spoke again until they reached the address she instructed. She faintly tapped Odi to wake him up and kissed the boy on the forehead. "When you're ready, you'll speak," she whispered
"Umi, you too," James called when she exited the car. "When you're ready, I'll make you happy."