The Resurrection of Monkey

Monkey was my best friend until his death. That was a few months before a devastating earthquake shook Central Luzon, killing hundreds and isolating Baguio City. A year later Mt. Pinatubo erupted, drowning and displacing lives.

Last night, I met Monkey. I couldn't believe he was alive. But, I wasn't shocked.

We were on a day trip to what was left of Mt. Pinatubo several years after the eruption. On Facebook, I'd seen the scenic lake in the volcano's crater on the background of my online friends' selfies. This made me want to visit the place. Half-asleep inside the van we rented for the trip, I heard a familiar voice coming from outside. Vague at first, but as we drew near our first stop, the voice became louder and more familiar. The voice was of someone who could be endorsing a candidate for an elected post. Then I recognize Monkey's charismatic voice. I knew I couldn't be wrong. I saw him there towering with his 6'1" frame surrounded by locals as he handed campaign leaflets. I couldn't believe it was him. But, I was not shocked. I walked toward the crowd. He saw me; he waived his hand to acknowledge my being there. I stopped. I felt water drops fall  on my face. The soft rain in the midst of solar heat dispersed the crowd. Suddenly, it was just I and Monkey in the rain. He motioned me to follow him as he ran toward a parked SUV. He waited for me before entering the car. 

Inside the car I saw bundles of campaign leaflets. To have found out that the leaflets had pictures of five candidates for president gave me mild shock.

I broke the ice. "Where have you been all these years?"

"Europe. Different places. Then I finally settled in Canada."

"With your mother?"

"Yes. We're both Canadian citizens now."

"How is she?"

"Old."

I wanted to laugh. He, too, I could sense. We decided to postpone it for later.

"So, what's with the leaflets? You can't even vote here and yet you're doing this."

"I need extra income while I'm on vacation here. One of these guys paid me $1 M and this SUV just for distributing these leaflets to provinces." 

He handed me a leaflet.

"Who printed this?"

"I did."

"Who's ideas are these?"

"Mine."

The leaflets were essentially lampoons that destroy the images of the other candidates, while making one candidate looked ridiculously good. The candidate who paid Monkey had a heavily edited picture, making him look like a mestizo, with a fair skin, which was far from his 'true colors." Under his picture was his name, followed by "President". But the other candidates' pictures were probably shot at their worst angles. Ugly. As ugly as the accusation thrown at them. The candidate's name was also attached to their respective pictures followed by a litany of mudslinging rhetoric. One candidate was described as to have misused the funds intended for the rehabilitation of Baguio City after the quake. Another was accused to have not given up her Canadian Citizenship and for having extra-marital affair with a rich businessman. The other was accused to be clandestinely forging a deal with the Communist rebels to overthrow the government. The other candidate was labelled "nuisance," written after the comma that immediately followed the surname of the candidate.

"You wrote all these?"

"Yes." He said it with pride.

"Where's my best friend? My best friend can't do something like this!"

"I've changed. Your best friend is dead."

"And who do you say are you?"

He said a foreign-sounding name that (now) I can't remember. Then he laughed. Mine was just a giggle which was tentative.

And then I woke up.

I can't believe I can remember most of the details in my dream. 

Today is April 16, 2018. Monkey's birthday, if he's still alive, will be two days from now. 

I guess, I was just too busy to have forgotten April 18 during the last few years. 

Or, maybe I already forgot him. That was long time ago when I saw him alive. He and my mother sent me off at the bus station. I was going back to Manila for my Summer Class. That was January 1990, after Christmas vacation, the last time I saw them alive. 

The following month my mother died of heart attack. 

On April 20 of the same year, Monkey died of cardiac arrest.

In July of that year, Central Luzon was devastated by a killer earthquake. The year after, Mt. Pinatubo erupted after being dormant for more than a hundred years.