When it pours, it rains

All right, maybe the visit was inconvenient. For years I had been badgering a friend to come and visit. Come see my house. We’ll have fun. It’ll be like old times. I never expected her to surprise me. Suddenly there she was and I had to move my life this way and that to make as much time as possible for the friendship that we so needed to catch up on.

She surprised me, so I didn’t have time to organize the writing course I was to launch but fortunately not too many people had signed up. I could avert that crisis. It rained cats, dogs and monkeys. While we watched the rain pour over my house in Laguna, other friends sent texts. One of my buddies just like that dropped dead of a heart attack, would be cremated on the morrow. Grief leaked out of me like sweat as I walked up and down wondering, why, why did he die so young? Why didn’t I call the last time I wondered how he was. Why did I let that friendship slip away without a murmur . . .

My visitor doesn’t really like the country. She wanted to experience the city. She needed my car and me. Ana was left alone to watch my home. She looked listless, anxious as I was leaving that Tuesday. On Thursday, I sent her a text telling her she shouldn’t let the weather get her down. Then on Friday I was suddenly free. My visiting friend found another friend to catch up with. I went home to Laguna to catch up with my e-mail.

My pondkeeper was here but Ana was nowhere in sight. I sent her a text advising her of my arrival but she did not respond. "Where is Ana?" I asked the pondkeeper. He said she had gone out. Then a text from her saying her cousin – the ubiquitous cousin had a family emergency. Her cell had no load so she couldn’t tell me. Pasensya na mam. Then she goes on to say that she cannot be back until late Friday night. Really? Well, you’re dead meat, I thought. On my way upstairs I noticed the paper lamp that had fallen on the floor. I had noticed that last Tuesday but on impulse left it for Ana to pick up. I knew then that she had left the house right behind me.

To collect my thoughts, I thought of checking my e-mail. My computer was dead. DEAD!!! Okay, I decide, I will go mad very slowly. So I picked up the phone and checked with the security. The records showed Ana always left right behind me "How did you get in?" I asked my pondkeeper. "She keeps her keys by the gate," he said. So, she even has a system in place so the people she’s supposed to wait for can come in when she is out. What a miserable, devious, minor witch. That’s generally spelled with a b. Now I know how safe this subdivision is. Nothing happens to my abandoned house. Why am I paying Ana such a high salary to watch my house? That’s it, she’s fired.

No, wait, am I being heartless? Oh, how we twist ourselves into knots over this. Ana was more than a helper to me. I thought we had a special relationship. I implicitly trusted her but she typically betrayed that trust. What’s wrong with me? I’ve had experience. This shouldn’t happen anymore but it is the consequence of my refusal to lose trust in people, especially underprivileged, downtrodden single parents. I keep wanting for them to deserve the break I think I so generously extend. Ana was always smarter than me. She had the keys to my house, including to my room, but she was sneaky enough to make sure I had no duplicate keys to her room.

She must have been in a rush when she left. Her room door was open and all her duplicate keys inside. Luck was finally going my way. If and when she returned, could I entrust my home to her again? I asked myself. No, I would always be wondering if indeed she was home or not. That’s not the way I want to live. I’m better off without her. But I paid her her wages due and gave her the cell phone I had bought for her use because I have learned a valuable lesson: Never reduce anyone to a point when he or she has nothing to lose. They will seek vengeance on you. I must admit I have erred often in my life but I make sure that I err on the side of generosity.

On the other hand, I locked up everything, bought new padlocks where needed, where I had been lax. After my Saturday class I went rushing home but there was terrible traffic on the South Expressway that made me turn around. Makati, Susana Heights, Makati in four-and-a-half hours. Clearly my planets were not favoring me. Early Sunday morning I finally made it home. Home had turned into a filthy house so I rolled up my sleeves and began to clean interrupted by messages from my friend, concerns about the class that wouldn’t get off the ground, mentally organizing my week so I could make time for the columns and consultances... and are these chicken bones and empty sardine cans stuck under the sink? Yuch, what swinish habits. Now I know precisely what my stepfather meant when he said, "You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear."

"Your visit took me on a roller coaster ride," I told my friend, as we sat down at a Makati bar to say goodbye. "A buddy passed away, one of my most trusted people majorly betrayed me, I missed a class opening for the first time. I won’t forget that when you were here it poured."

"And it even rained," she said with a grin. "Sorry, I guess surprise visits can be inconvenient, huh?"

"Yes," I said, "but I’m glad you came because being with you is always fun even when the timing is off, even when it’s inconvenient."