him was the white plastic container in which he kept his catch.
Rosa stopped, a little surprised.
It wasn’t until he had glanced over his shoulder, to check ifshe had heard him, that she recognized the boy as Lito. They were the same age and lived in neighboring
barangays
, so Rosa was vaguely aware of his existence, but they had never exchanged words. He didn’t go to school, and they had no friends in common. The closest they had come to a conversation was at a fiesta, when Lito’s older cousin had asked Rosa for a dance. Lito had been his shadow, backup in the background. When she had politely declined, Lito had stepped forward to stand beside his cousin and opened his mouth as if he meant to say something. But instead he’d nodded, which had felt to Rosa like a tacit agreement that dancing with his cousin was not such a great idea. A second later the two boys disappeared.
“Aren’t you going to look?” said Lito with an impatience in his voice that Rosa found even more surprising. Since she had turned sixteen, no boy had spoken to her with anything less than the utmost courtesy.
“I’m on my way to school,” Rosa replied.
“I know. I see you walk to school most mornings. Sometimes I’m on my boat, far out at sea. You’re just a dot on the beach. But most mornings I’m right here, so I see you.”
“Oh…”
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to have noticed me. I just thought you’d find this interesting.”
“Find what interesting?”
“Well.” Lito shrugged. “Either you look or you don’t.”
Rosa hesitated, then walked over the sand toward him. As she approached, he picked up a T-shirt and slung it across his left shoulder so that it hung over the side of his chest. Only then did he turn to face her.
“So,” said Rosa.
Lito pointed at the water in the plastic container. “You have to see up close. You have to get closer.”
Rosa squatted.
“There. Now follow my finger. You see this very small fry?”
“Yes.”
“You see anything strange about it?”
“No.”
“What do you see?”
“Actually, I can see two fry.”
“No, you
think
you can see two fry, swimming next to each other. But it isn’t two. It’s one fry, and he has two tails…” Lito frowned. “I’ve been catching these fry since
I
was a fry, and I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought maybe something happened to his mother. She might have been hit or bitten by a larger fish when she was pregnant. Some kind of shock…”
“Since you were a fry?” said Rosa, and laughed. Then she frowned, puzzled rather than annoyed. “Is that what was interesting?”
“Yes.” Lito’s expression became suddenly alarmed, and he tugged at a fold on his draped T-shirt. “You don’t think it’s interesting,” he said.
“It’s…
quite
interesting.”
He didn’t seem convinced.
“I’d better get to school.”
“Yes.”
They both stood up, and before Rosa could say anything else, Lito had lifted his net and was walking toward the shallows.
Rosa watched him for a few moments. He wasn’t short, but he certainly wasn’t tall either, and he was as black as the other boys who worked in the sea. But he was more handsome and less scarred than many of them, and he cut his hair much shorter. Disco hair was prized by all whose parents permitted it, following the local tradition of diligently matching Manila fashions of the previous year.
Maybe Lito had strict parents. Anyway, avoiding disco hair was no bad thing. Disco hair, Rosa commented to herself as she set off again toward Infanta, looked pretty ridiculous. She hadn’t really noticed before, but it wasn’t manly at all.
3.
At lunch break, when Leesha had suggested they leave the school grounds to talk in the burned-out WW II army truck, Rosa had known that something important had happened. So had Ella, who’d spotted them as they left the playground and caught up before they vanished into the privacy of the jungle.
Arranging themselves in the
Rosa stopped, a little surprised.
It wasn’t until he had glanced over his shoulder, to check ifshe had heard him, that she recognized the boy as Lito. They were the same age and lived in neighboring
barangays
, so Rosa was vaguely aware of his existence, but they had never exchanged words. He didn’t go to school, and they had no friends in common. The closest they had come to a conversation was at a fiesta, when Lito’s older cousin had asked Rosa for a dance. Lito had been his shadow, backup in the background. When she had politely declined, Lito had stepped forward to stand beside his cousin and opened his mouth as if he meant to say something. But instead he’d nodded, which had felt to Rosa like a tacit agreement that dancing with his cousin was not such a great idea. A second later the two boys disappeared.
“Aren’t you going to look?” said Lito with an impatience in his voice that Rosa found even more surprising. Since she had turned sixteen, no boy had spoken to her with anything less than the utmost courtesy.
“I’m on my way to school,” Rosa replied.
“I know. I see you walk to school most mornings. Sometimes I’m on my boat, far out at sea. You’re just a dot on the beach. But most mornings I’m right here, so I see you.”
“Oh…”
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to have noticed me. I just thought you’d find this interesting.”
“Find what interesting?”
“Well.” Lito shrugged. “Either you look or you don’t.”
Rosa hesitated, then walked over the sand toward him. As she approached, he picked up a T-shirt and slung it across his left shoulder so that it hung over the side of his chest. Only then did he turn to face her.
“So,” said Rosa.
Lito pointed at the water in the plastic container. “You have to see up close. You have to get closer.”
Rosa squatted.
“There. Now follow my finger. You see this very small fry?”
“Yes.”
“You see anything strange about it?”
“No.”
“What do you see?”
“Actually, I can see two fry.”
“No, you
think
you can see two fry, swimming next to each other. But it isn’t two. It’s one fry, and he has two tails…” Lito frowned. “I’ve been catching these fry since
I
was a fry, and I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought maybe something happened to his mother. She might have been hit or bitten by a larger fish when she was pregnant. Some kind of shock…”
“Since you were a fry?” said Rosa, and laughed. Then she frowned, puzzled rather than annoyed. “Is that what was interesting?”
“Yes.” Lito’s expression became suddenly alarmed, and he tugged at a fold on his draped T-shirt. “You don’t think it’s interesting,” he said.
“It’s…
quite
interesting.”
He didn’t seem convinced.
“I’d better get to school.”
“Yes.”
They both stood up, and before Rosa could say anything else, Lito had lifted his net and was walking toward the shallows.
Rosa watched him for a few moments. He wasn’t short, but he certainly wasn’t tall either, and he was as black as the other boys who worked in the sea. But he was more handsome and less scarred than many of them, and he cut his hair much shorter. Disco hair was prized by all whose parents permitted it, following the local tradition of diligently matching Manila fashions of the previous year.
Maybe Lito had strict parents. Anyway, avoiding disco hair was no bad thing. Disco hair, Rosa commented to herself as she set off again toward Infanta, looked pretty ridiculous. She hadn’t really noticed before, but it wasn’t manly at all.
3.
At lunch break, when Leesha had suggested they leave the school grounds to talk in the burned-out WW II army truck, Rosa had known that something important had happened. So had Ella, who’d spotted them as they left the playground and caught up before they vanished into the privacy of the jungle.
Arranging themselves in the
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