Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Release

Grey stared at the pensive faces of his Accounting freshmen students as they sat hunched over their desks covered with worksheets, questionnaires, calculators and rulers. The periodic sound of calculators and ballpens clattering on the bare concrete floor broke the heavy silence that hung in the air.

As he continued to stare at the sweat pouring off his students' furrowed brows, a sense of sadness swept over him. How many of these youngsters were Grey in the making? How many of them were feeling trapped in a path they had not chosen and would later live to regret? How many had given up their dreams because they were too timid to stand up and fight for their right to choose, to live?



His gaze soon settled on the face of a girl in the back row. This was not the first time this happened. Her face always seemed to act like a magnet and draw his eyes to it. It was not that he was attracted to her, but rather, the attraction was for the one she resembled, a girl of his happier past.

Until now, he still couldn't get over how closely their features matched. They had the same heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, chinky eyes framed by long straight lashes, and thin lips accentuated by a tiny dimple on the left corner when they laughed, which they both did often.

Sometimes, he'd imagine that he was in a time machine and had been whisked back to the past, to a time when he had drowned himself in the depths of her eyes and lost himself in the music of her laughter...

The shrill sound of his cellphone startled him out of his reverie. He rushed out of the room so as not to disturb the concentration of his students. He yanked the phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Raystler, his co-teacher. Now what could possibly be so urgent that he couldn't wait to talk to him in person?

"Ray, you know I'm in the middle of a class," he said after the caller's hello. "I'm in the middle of a quiz, for that matter. Why'd you call? In half an hour I'd be down there and you'll soon be able to tell me whatever it is you think I should know in person."

"Well this news can't wait. I'm sure you'll want to know as soon as possible. Meaning, now."

"Well, cut the crap and tell me already. The suspense is killing me."

"Remember that article you entered in that contest?"

"The one for the Philippine Post? What about it?

"You won, Grey. You get to be the Post's newest writer."

Grey nearly dropped the phone in his shock. "You're kidding."

"I'm not. So get down here as soon as you can and go through that fat congratulatory parcel that they sent you."

Three months ago, he had found himself in Manila, and by some quirky twist of fate, he was just in time to join the contest held by the Philippine Post that offered a writing job to the one who came up with the best article. It was Raystler who had convinced him that there was no harm in trying, that there weren't any rules saying that CPAs couldn't be journalists too. So he had joined just for the fun of it.

Did he actually win? He still couldn't believe it. But so what? He could not accept that job. He already had two jobs. He had a job as an accountant in a Government office and as a sideline, he taught Accounting subjects at his old alma mater. He couldn't shift from journalizing to journalism in an instant. He already led a stable life. There was no reason why he would want to leave for Manila and wreck the orderliness of his life.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. The face of a girl with high cheekbones and chinky eyes appeared in his psyche.

"Clarisse," he breathed into the empty hallway.

@}>;--

"Oh it's you, son," his father greeted upon catching sight of his figure in the living room. "You're just in time to join us for dinner."

Grey put away his briefcase and approached the dining room table. He had looked forward to being home at last, until he remembered that he still had several books to balance and a load of test papers to check. He sighed in frustration. This weary day was far from over. A long night lay ahead of him.

How many nights had he spent over steaming cups of coffee and a table crammed full of unsightly papers? Ever since he stepped into College, he had never gotten a good night's sleep, which he would have been fine with, if he actually liked what he was spending his nights on.

A flash of white sticking out of his pocket caught his eye. He whisked the Post's letter out and looked at it. He realized that there was still a chance for all these to change. His life did not have to be an endless string of meaningless overworked days. He could still have a shot at happiness.

"Guess what?" he began, helping himself to a generous helping of sauteed string beans and squash.

"What? A UFO landed in front of you and the hostile aliens informed you that they were going to take over our planet so we had better evacuate to Mars at the soonest possible instant or else we'd be toasted to a crisp by their radioactive gun?"his youngest sister Samantha put in.

"No, silly. It's good news," He replied, grinning affectionately.

"No news is good news, you know," his other sister Diane said from the other side of the table.

"Kids, let your brother tell us his good news," his mother ordered.

He waited for his family to pipe down before taking a deep breath and announcing, "When I was in Manila three months ago, I joined this contest held by the Philippine Post."

"What kind of contest was it, Kuya?" Diane interrupted.

"A feature writing contest," he replied.

"How come you never mentioned this before, son?" his father asked.

Grey looked down at his plate and pretended to concentrate on mashing his rice, beans and squash into a sticky heap. "Uh... it must have slipped my mind."

"So what about this contest? Did you win?" Samantha said impatiently.

"As a matter of fact, yes I did."

"Congratulations! What's the prize?" Diane said excitedly.

"I won a sum of money," he paused. "And I get to work for the newspaper."

Silence. Then his mother said, "That's nice, dear, too bad you've already got two jobs here. I'm sure they will be disappointed."

"I guess they will give it to someone else. It would be a shame to waste it on someone who won't be able to use it," his father added.

So that was it? They simply assumed that he had decided not to grab that chance, the chance he had been waiting for all his life? They took for granted that what they thought would be what he thought too?

But they were his parents. Of course they knew what was best. He could not leave everything behind just because a once in a lifetime chance to pursue his dreams landed right in front of him. He had already abandoned his dreams seven long years ago when he took up BS Accountancy even though it was against his will.

He had wanted to pursue a course in journalism, so he had applied to a prestigious university in Manila. He had been full of dreams, dreams spun when he was with Clarisse, his best friend, and the only girl he had ever loved. Clarisse was an artist, and she too wanted to attend the same school which he had applied to. So she too turned in her application.

They both passed, and soon their conversations were about College life together in the same school. Of course, he never told her that when he envisioned their future together, he dreamt of so much more than their being schoolmates. He planned to tell her when they got there.

Unfortunately, not all things in life proceed according to plan. When he told his parents about his future plans, they disapproved, saying that he had to be practical. There was no money in his ambition, they said, the money was in where the job opportunities were. So they forced him to take up Accountancy. All his dreams were dashed. He suffered in a course he did not choose and suffered without Clarisse by his side. She left to continue her goal, to finish half of their dreams, and he never found the courage to tell her, even though they still stayed in touch and were still best friends after all these years.

And now, his long dead hopes and dreams were beginning to resurface. Why did he allow them to thrive, only to be trampled upon so cruelly in the end?

@}>;--

Grey maneuvered his trusty stainless owner type jeep into their garage. Then he squeezed his 6-foot frame out of the vehicle and lugged his heavy briefcase after him. He had decided to drive straight home from the office due to a splitting headache. He was sure his students would welcome the break wholeheartedly.

"But Ma, I'd like to take up Psychology. You know it's my dream course," Samantha's voice drifted out of the kitchen. Grey quit rubbing his pounding temple to listen.

"Sam, listen to me. I know Psychology sounds like a great course, but it's not practical. There's no money in it. Why can't you take up Accountancy like your brother, or Computer Science like your sister?" his mother's voice said next.

Grey felt something in him snap. It was enough that his parents had ruined his life. They shouldn't ruin Sam's life too. It was too much. He stormed into the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that his glasses had already slipped down his nose.

"Ma, I've decided to take that job," he said simply.

He watched as her mouth formed an 'o' in amazement. "Is this some kind of joke, Grey?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No. I finally found it. All my life, you have made my decisions for me. I wanted to pursue my dream of becoming a journalist but you said it wasn't practical so I took up Accountancy instead. When I graduated, I wanted to move away so I could be independent but you pulled strings to get me that job in your friend's office so I could stay in Zamboanga. I have been miserable for the past years doing jobs I don't enjoy at all.
I'm twenty five years old. Don't you think I'm capable of making my own decisions? I deserve to have a say in what happens to me. Last time I checked, this was my life."

When he was through with his tirade, the shock in his mother's eyes soon melted into grief. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"You've ruined my life already. Please don't ruin Sam's. Let her be. It's her life, you have no right to control it." With that, he marched out of the house.

@}>;--

"Coffee, tea, or juice?" the flight stewardess asked.

"I'll just have a glass of water, please," was Grey's reply. It was not in the choices, but it was what he wanted.

He smiled and leaned contentedly in his chair. Only a few more minutes and he'd set foot in Manila - and wrap his arms around Clarisse. He still cherished the sweet sound of her gasp during their phone conversation a few days ago.

"And, Clarisse?"

"I know, I know, I'm supposed to meet you at the airport with a huge banner, a marching band, complete with -"

"I love you."

A quick intake of breath. "What?"

He looked out the window and saw an eagle soaring above the clouds. He watched as it headed towards the sun. He smiled.

-----
The first short story I wrote (I think). Written for our English 112 - AA class when I was a College freshman. It's not any good (cringe-worthy, even), but Grey's release is mine in my imagination.

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