Camille B.
Manalastas BSA III-Kindness
The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father about
Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and let it to its shed and
fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, but he wanted his father to know. What he had to say was of
serious import as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it, at a thought
came to him his father might refuse to consider it. His father was silent hard-working farmer who chewed
areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong’s grandmother.
I will tell it to him. I will tell it to him.
The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy smell. Many
slender soft worms emerged from the furrows and then burrowed again deeper into the soil. A short
colorless worm marched blindly to Dodong’s foot and crawled calmly over it. Dodong go tickled and
jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where it fell, but thought
of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young any more.
Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and gave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned its
head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked
alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it land the carabao began to eat. Dodong
looked at it without interests.
Dodong started homeward, thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to marry,
Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, the down on his upper lip already was
dark–these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man–he was a man. Dodong felt
insolent and big at the thought of it although he was by nature low in statue. Thinking himself a man
grown, Dodong felt he could do anything.
He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but he
dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the
cool sundown he thought wild you dreams of himself and Teang. Teang, his girl. She had a small
brown face and small black eyes and straight glossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She made
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Dodong lay silent.
“I love Tona and… I want her.”
Dodong rose from his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to the yard, where everything
was still and quiet. The moonlight was cold and white.
“You want to marry Tona,” Dodong said. He did not want Blas to marry yet. Blas was very young. The
life that would follow marriage would be hard…
“Yes.”
“Must you marry?”
Blas’s voice stilled with resentment. “I will marry Tona.”
Dodong kept silent, hurt.
“You have objections, Itay?” Blas asked acridly.
“Son… n-none…” (But truly, God, I don’t want Blas to marry yet… not yet. I don’t want Blas to marry
yet….)
Camille B. Manalastas BSA III-Kindness
But he was helpless. He could not do anything. Youth must triumph… now. Love must triumph… now.
Afterwards… it will be life.
As long ago Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong… and then Life.
Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt extremely sad and sorry for him.