Chapter 7

Larry's house was a mansion. Its walls were made up of rows and rows of shatter-proof glasses. If that was not grand enough, there was an orchid garden and an infinity pool in the yard. It was the biggest house in the block. Everything inside screamed elegance. From the arcane paintings on the wall, the leather sofa in the living room, the posh chandelier adorning the roof and the marble-tiled floor so shiny I was afraid to set my foot on it.

Larry's mom welcomed me affectionately at the door. She wore the kind of dress that Nana wore only during special occasions when we have visitors. She was fair-skinned like Larry and her wavy blonde hair bounced as she walked as if they had a life of their own. Larry was a screaming resemblance of his mom.

"Hi, you must be Florante! I'm Olivia. Larry can't stop talking about you since day-one." She spoke with subtle sensitivity that was both tender and warm. Her blue eyes shone with genuine delight.

"Larry never stops talking about anything." I quipped. She chuckled in agreement.

"Shut up jerk!" Larry softly nudged my rib with his elbow as he appeared behind me candid as a chirping bird who'd met with its flock after a long day of foraging.

"Watch your mouth young man!" Reprimanded his father as he appeared holding a naked cat that was wearing a turtleneck shirt and a bell necklace.

"I am Ricardo, Larry's father. Please to meet you son." He had this thick Filipino accent in him, caramel colored skin like the shade of Larry's twin brother hidden underneath his shirt.

"Nice to meet you sir. Thank you for inviting me over." I collected their hands and touched it lightly on my forehead. Olivia was surprised by the gesture. Her cheeks turned rosy-red and her eyes melted like butter. Larryisque.

"Bless you, son. Larry, you should really learn some basic Filipino manners from your friend here," said Ricardo. He had the typical Filipino brown eyes and thick mounds of black hair despite it being trimmed tidily.

"Are my kisses aren't enough?" Larry frowned.

"We're not in America." His dad replied.

"And whose choice was that?" Larry argued.

"One thing you should learn about being a Filipino is that parents show their love to their kids by whooping their ass with a bamboo stick and I had one prepared for you upstairs should you need some loving." His father threatened playfully.

"Forget it dad. You could not even hurt a fly." Larry rolled his eyes.

"Indulged me."

Nana would've whooped my sorry ass if I talked back to her like that. She had no business bluffing like Ricardo. I had my fair share of loving from nana when I was a kid. The ass whooping thing slowly vanished as I grew older and I wondered if she doesn't love me anymore.

"I can teach him our ways." I interjected. Olivia and Ricardo looked at each other and smiled.

"How? Like whoop my ass or something?" Larry said sarcastically.

"Sure you can! Thank you, son, though you might find it hard since this feral kid was raised in the liberal jungles of America where corporal punishment of children is punishable by law," said Ricardo.

"Geez, dad. I can't believe you're a doctor with all these violence you have in mind!" Larry protested.

"See? That's what America has done to our son." Ricardo looked at Olyvia as if to illicit parental moral support from her.

"That's enough ass whooping and cultural appropriation debacles for today you guys," said Olyvia. Then the three of them huddled in admiration of the hideous turtleneck-wearing, cantankerous looking feline named Mr. William Shakespaw. The weird cat stared at me with that kind of vibe you get from kids staring at you at church during sermon. I was sure as hell the beast would have raised his eyebrows at me if it had one. His peculiarly curled mouth slipped half-open seemingly puzzled at my unwelcomed existence in his territory. He was not the least amused, I could tell. I did not develop any affection to felines for this very reason. We had to endure each other for the time being.

"Is the cat sick or something?" I asked referring to the naked Mr. William Shakespaw.

"Nothing's wrong with him Florante, he is a Sphinx," answered Ricardo.

"Why is he wearing a turtleneck?"

"Cos he's naked that is why."

"Aren't cats supposed to have fur?"

"Sphinx do not grow fur so we need to improvise." Olivia explained as she tickled Mr. William Shakespaw's paws like it was an infant. The cat let out a soft purr. They were left in total awe of the hideous cat purring like it was a baby who had just dropped the first word he learned to speak. It appeared to me that Larry's family had been dividing the sun fairly between them for quite a long time. A family of smiles. A small pack of Golden Retrievers.

Mr. and Mrs. Davis were arguing about what was going to be the name of the next Sphinx they would get. I would have joined in and suggested they call it Edgar Allan Paw but Larry took me by the hand and dragged me up to the winding stairs leading to his room on the second floor.