Miles and Years

Palm trees and coconuts lined the neighborhood. This is just one of the many places I get to stay for just a few moments. I did not mind with my surroundings. Palm trees and coconuts reminded me of the coast just a couple miles from here. Shanty houses and groomed mansions were neatly divided with a narrow pavement, fit for a Honda Civic.

Our fence was tucked deep within vines of wild bitter-gourd and the blooming bougainvilleas, the white and fuchsia petals reflecting the summer heat waving down upon this island.

I refused to bury my thoughts on the brown and patterned trunks of palm trees and coconuts around me, around us. This is just a place I get to visit once in my lifetime. My life’s in a constant motion, always on wheels, moving from one house to another, miles and miles apart, drawing away from the city.

Until that afternoon something made me stop. A nickel, three empty gallons of soy-sauce chained to a bigger container, and a striped, frayed gray polo shirt. A balding head crowned with white strands of hair covered in dust, and a mud-caked black leather wrist watch. A glass of a locally produced soda was produced from the store’s flap door, and the island’s own turnover called “empanada”.

Another nickle flipped on the store’s wooden bar, and five shaky fingers took some time to collect it. The store owner was nowhere to be found. I called out and discreetly looked at the old man struggling to sit on a low concrete bench. I heard a sigh of relief the moment he finally plopped down himself on it. I watched him unwrapping the empanada from the cellophane and slowly raised it to his toothless mouth.

His left hand rested on the bigger container tied with the three empty ones. They were his. And I wondered, what on earth a man, an elderly man, is doing in this part of town with three — no, four — empty water containers?

Munch, munch, munch, munch, munch. He was slow alright but he’s fast enough to devour each bite of his snack. Gulp, munch, munch, munch. The store owner finally appeared and I asked her what I want. I saw how she raised her brows at me, then to the elder sitting on one of her benches. She nodded and went back inside the store.

Three golden rings adorned his veins-lined, thin fingers. One of them began to turn to rust. I got what I want and I slowly trudged away from the store, and away from the man who took his time preparing to eat, only to hasten his moment in savoring a food as tasty and full as an empanada.

Palm trees and coconuts went back in my view and I told myself I will not be staying here for long. Any moment now, maybe I get to touch the clouds and climb the hills one more time. Any time, I will find myself wallowing my feet into the cold rush of a clean river. Any soon, I must devour my next empanada like it’s my last day on earth.

I’m on a constant motion, always on wheels. We all are. Time and destiny will play with us. We are their pawns on the chessboard of reality. That man, and his empanada, they just reached half of the board. We do not dwell forever, we go miles away for years to come.