Chapter 14

After the exams week, Larry gatecrashed in the house and abducted me from my Saturday musings. I told Nana he was a friend from school. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"You said I need a friend." I explained.

She interviewed Larry for a while which he heartily obliged. It did not take a long time before their friendship took off. They talked and laughed like they had known each other for a very long time. Larry's super power was on full display. I couldn't remember when was the last time I saw Nana laugh the way she did. They seemed so invested on each other. He asked nana if we could go out like what friends do on Saturdays. She said "Yes, of course." None of them gave a toddler's fart on whether I wanted to go out or not. Tyrants!

"What did you tell her?" I looked at Larry.

"I told Nana your introverted ass needs a break from the imaginary world of your books," he winked.

"Where are you taking me then?" I questioned him.

"My favorite restaurant downtown like I promised."

Chapter 15

Downtown.

The city was bathed in the kaleidoscope of artificial lights. People were pacing from every direction oblivious to the prickly weather. Contrary to most people, Larry included, gloomy weather to me was a bliss. I was seated beside him on his pick-up, watching the streetlights bathe the world with man-made illuminations like scattered pieces of a disco ball. The phosphorus moonlight swelled up above the cloudy sky, throwing lucid lights against the backdrop of tall buildings. What a sight to behold. I could have stayed inside his car and forget about his favorite restaurant or the fact that I was sitting inside someone else's car when not so long ago, Saturdays were usually spent alone in my room reading until my eyes stung and felt itchy which would then be my signal to stop. I would fold the page of the book where I stopped, turn off the reading lamp and crawl safely to my bed. Why I ended up inside the car of a Filipino-American hybrid/chimera/demi-god/elvenshithead/sun summoner/talking machine was something I could not wrap my head around.

"We're here," said the Filipino-American hybrid/chimera/demi-god/elvenshithead/sun-summoner/talking machine as he prepared to disembark.

French Riviera was a fancy restaurant, a restaurant for aristocrats you see in cliché Hollywood movies where a poor girl meets a billionaire CEO who has weird perversions; dim lit, classical piano in the background, rich patrons, good-looking waiters and waitresses courteous and polite unlike the perpetually tired ones you see in small eateries whose faces constantly reflect surrender. Everything in the room felt calculated and measured. The warm incandescent lights on the ceiling, the meticulously prepared food on the plate, the placid movements of the diners, the hushed voices, the perfunctory smiles. It was as if the place would fell apart with the slightest imperfection. A classic masterpiece was playing on the piano. Mozart? Bach? or Schubert? I couldn't make up my mind, I did not know hell lot about classical music to begin with. I only learned about Mozart, Bach and Schubert at school. They were the Walt Whitman, Hawthorne, Emerson, Thoreau of the piano world.

"Bonsoir!" A waiter who was wearing a tuxedo greeted us with a warm calculated smile.

"Bon-what?" I said.

"Bonsoir!" Replied Larry. He seemed amused at my reaction. I hope I could say the same with the waiter.

The alien-speaking waiter handed us a menu that was written in equally alien language.

Coq Au V***

Cassoul***

Beef Bourgui***

Flami***

Confit de Can***

Nicoise Sal***

"How am I supposed to read this?" I grumbled.

"You're too honest for your own good," Larry laughed.

I told him he could order anything on my behalf, I was not a picky eater anyway. That cracked him out too. He rang a small bell on our table which was supposed to call the attention of the waiters. It had this soft metallic shrill on it that reminded me of the bell that cats wore around their neck. To be more specific, the bell reminded me of this cat from when I was a kid. We used to have a cat in the house. I was a pacifist back then and did not want our cat to go around murdering mice left and right so I put a bell on its neck to warn the poor mice hiding inside the tiny cracks on the walls whenever the cat was around the corner. I read a story once about reincarnation. How our soul never really dies eternally whatever that meant, but reincarnates into various forms of life. I was thinking about my dead grandpa, uncles and dad in particular. What if they had all been reincarnated into mice? I could not in my good conscience allow my ancestors' soul to end up in a cat's belly. Hence, the bell around the cat's neck. The cat, of course was not impressed, the beast never looked at me the same way again after that incident until the day it died of old age.

Larry read the dish to the waiter, "Soupe a L'oignon, Beef Bourguignon, Confit de Canard and Vegan Mushroom Bourguignon with Potato Cauliflower Mash."

"Do you have anything to add?" He asked.

"Congee?" I hesitated.

"Oh, yes. And can we have a bowl of Congee, please." The waiter looked confused but Larry made it clear he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Of course." The waiter obliged.

The food came fifteen minutes sharp as promised. Killer presentation. Alien-looking dish with cheese galore. I barely touched anything he ordered apart from my Congee. I looked at Larry and the way he chewed every piece of food on his plate looked like a form of art that's meticulously carried-out. Larry and the art of eating.

After we dined, we hit the road and went to my favorite place. The night was still young and the warm breeze of the summer air blew the leaves of the nearby pine trees.

"This is where I stay when I want to clear my head." I fished out a cigarette from my pocket.

We climbed up on the roof panel of his pick-up truck and watched the stars in the night sky which was now more visible and clearer since the clouds from the rain earlier had vanished. I lit a cigarette and offered him one. He did not know what to do with the cigarette in his hand so I taught him the simple pleasure of puffing a cigarette. He swallowed the smoke and coughed.

"F'Chrissake!" He cleared his throat.

"You'll get the hang of it." I laughed.

"Is this even legal?"

"No witnesses," I said. That got him laughing too.

"Why are we smoking?"

"Because it's the end of the world and we gotta try to break some rules before we die." I took another drag.

"We're rebels. And this is rebellion!" He declared.

"If this is the end of the world Larry what is it that you want to do for one last time?" I asked him.

"Kiss you." He answered.

"Is that what you meant when you said you like guys?" I asked.

"I don't know. But I feel like I wanna kiss you sometimes. Is that gay?"

"I mean. Russians kiss each other's cheeks as a form of friendly greeting you know." 

"Not on friendly terms. How about I'll kiss you right now so I'll find out." He recommended.

"Here we go again."

"I'll be gentle, and passionate. I promise."

He was dead serious I could tell. "No, we're not gonna…" He snaked his hands around my nape before I could finish talking. Our bodies tensed until we exploded into a hot and fearless kiss. We kissed and we kissed and we kissed to our hearts' content. Asteroids raining down overhead. The earth trembled with giant earthquakes. The sky cracked open. We're being swallowed by giant waves and sunk at the bottom of the ocean. I wondered what dinosaurs would have felt in the few remaining hours of their lives before they got wiped out of the face of the earth by a fucking asteroid. If this is the end of the world, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

"So how do you feel?" I asked.

"I think I'm gay." He answered.

"You think you're gay?"

"Maybe…gay."

"So, you're not sure?" I asked again.

"We can do it again for good measure." 

"Don't push you luck, Larry. We're never kissing again, you understand?"

There was a long silence after that. It was the first time Larry ran out of words. I ran out of words too. There were no earthquakes and tsunamis, and asteroids and dinosaurs anymore. There was only us and this weird throbbing inside my pants that refused to subside. The spell was broken and we're back to reality.

"I wanna go home." I told him.

"I'll drive you home." He replied.

We did not talk inside the car nor did I bid him goodnight. I hated the fact that he made me do stupid things. I hated the fact that I always obliged because I did not have the power to resist whatever Witcraft bullshit he had on me.