Doors

"Love is an open door~"

When I was a kid (before our house was renovated), my parents told me that I sleepwalked once in the middle of the night. They woke up and saw me opening the screen to the outside. Apparently, I had already opened both the locked bedroom door, the door to the outside, and the screen. That’s a lot of doors for a kid. My eyes were closed. They put me back in bed, back to sleep.

I have no recollection of that event.

Ever since I can remember, our doors are now bolted and double-locked.

My mother used to work when I was still in pre-school. Both my parents came home late, and I liked waiting for them. I don’t know if we talked much, of what we talked about, or if we had anything to talk about at all. Parents are usually too adult to talk to children But I waited for them anyway. I don’t know why, maybe I liked it. I remember every Friday night when Dad would always bring home a kiddie meal pasalubong, with a toy from Jollibee that I probably got tired of the next day. I had lots and lots of toys back then; three baskets and a cabinet. They never seemed to be enough.  I remember also the soggy fries that smelled of newspaper that was stuck in the back of Dad’s bag. It came with the happy meal. I liked those fries.

During the day Nanay takes care of me and my cousin. I like Nanay. She used to buy us forbidden toys from Bayan and it was our dirty little secret. I had Yu-Gi-Oh cards because of her. She used to comfort us when Mama gets mad. She had no power in the house, but it was in the shadows that she showed her love.

I go home early. I sleep early. In fact, I’m known for sleeping at 10 PM. Back in Congress everybody went home after class, when the bell rings. Everyone came running toward the gate, from Grade 1 to Grade 6, whatever the age. I was like that in Pisay, too. After class, I went home immediately. Mama always waited for me in the front lobby. We live very far. We live past Fairview where nobody ever decides to meet. It is an hour and a half or so worth of travel time, going back or forth. I did not join any organization in high school because of that.

When I was 3^rd year, Mama got sick and I was left to go home on my own. I was really very worried for Mama. I still left home as soon as class is over. I have nothing to do anyway. No one expects me to do something after the bell rings.

When I was in 4^th year there were many overnights and outings. I did not join unless it was required for academics. My parents don’t allow it. Otherwise I’d have the doors locked on me. Once, Dad got home late from his friend’s invitation and Mama stayed up late to wait for him. She raised hell in the darkness of the night, waking up all the neighbours to the end of the street and shut the door and gate on Dad. Nanay secretly opened it later for him. He slept outside our room. My parents did not talk for one week.

Curfew was a no small cause of contention between us. I felt like I am old enough and I could take care of myself already. After all, everyone in my batch is free to stay up late. But we live very far, and we had no car, and I could not contest that. I resigned myself to this reasonable fact.

I went to UP with much the same habit, of going home and sleeping early. It was this curfew that kept me from joining orgs. I can’t stay beyond school hours, so I really enjoyed my breaks. I didn’t mind having long breaks, waiting around doing nothing.

However, as I grew older I realized that nobody has curfew anymore, since everybody keeps asking, “may curfew ka pa rin?” (you still have curfew?). Yes I did. Yes I do.

There was not much I can do about it. We live very far, and we have no car. The doors will be locked, and I have no keys.

Once in 4^th year there was a PIChE Quiz Bowl training and we decided to eat out at Steveston’s. I tried to push my luck and stayed, but it was 9 PM already and just as the pizza arrived, I had to leave. There was no room for delay. I was really mad then. I’m a graduating student and I have a damn 10 PM curfew. I cried in the jeepney on the way home. I figured I’ll wait for graduation, and then I’ll be free.

After graduation I went to a friend’s thanksgiving party in Pampanga, and there was a spontaneous overnight invitation, since it was getting late anyway. I tried to push my luck again – I’m a graduate now – but to no avail. I got really mad again. I’m a college graduate and I have a damn 10 PM curfew. I cried in the bus on the way home. I drank a cup from the half-empty wine bottle in our fridge. I did not get drunk. But I talked to Dad about it, how Mama always gets hysterical every time, how they are always worried, that someone was waiting for me.

I did not have keys. The doors were bolted. Someone had to wait for me.

And then I worked. Far from home, a new place. Quiet, a little isolated, a bit to my liking. Freedom. It was the first time I could stay up as much as I wanted to. But there’s nothing to do in Bataan anyway, and old habits are hard to break. I still slept at 10 PM. But I had freedom, and that made me happy. I had keys, for the first time in my life. No one had to wait for me. No one was waiting for me. It was just a bed to sleep on.

Sometimes it is not the open door that we want, but what lies behind it.

I try to go home every weekend, but there is not much to talk about. It’s not that parents are too adult to talk to their child; not anymore. It’s that they have nothing much to say, except for their usual advice.

Tonight I pushed my lucked. We live very far, and we have no car. My phone was muted, and I did not hear the seven missed calls. I saw the texts; I could see my mother hysterically shouting behind that long all caps text. I ignored the heartache that came to mind whenever she feels unloved for oh so many times. I did not reply.

I already asked them to go on ahead and sleep. They did not have to wait for me. I am old enough to take care of myself already. A little freedom can’t hurt. I just wanted to have an open door to go home to. I cried in the UV on the way home.

I don’t have pasalubong. We don’t have much to talk about anyway, just a few words to exchange. I wonder why they insist on waiting. Perhaps, they just liked it.

Tonight I came home at 12 mn. The lights are out, the doors were locked, I had no key. I could see the yellow-orange glow of the baby light that we use when we sleep. I reached behind the gate and opened it from the inside. I tapped on Nanay’s window thrice, and called out to her. She opened the back door for me. I hugged her tight. “Thank you Nay.”

In the pot was sinigang na hipon, my favourite of favourites. Everyone is asleep. We don’t have much to talk about anyway, maybe it doesn’t really matter. I need a couch to sleep on tonight.

I’m sorry. I love you too.