October 16, 2009 (Friday), Makati City,
Philippines - As I swam back to consciousness, I slowly became
aware of a particular sound, the kind of disturbing silence in which you know
at once that something is dreadfully wrong. My eyes snapped open and I
blinked once, twice…a bit drowsily.
The buzzing, eerie silence continued
unabated. What was that sound which was making me uncomfortable? It was
familiar and at the same time, it was not.
I rolled over and sat up somewhat unsteadily. Looking at the
dim surroundings my gaze jumped erratically around the shadowy room. It
flitted from the stationary electric fan – it was not whirring merrily away as
its usual wont – to the night light – it was only dark glass glinting – to the
shaded windows – which showed the faint outline of unmoving leaves and potted plants.
My last memory was that of the sturdy alarm clock’s hands
pointing to 4 a.m. and after that I drew a blank. Or maybe that was a dream
which I could not remember in its entirety?
The slow trickle of salty liquid between my shoulder blades
encouraged me to move. Standing up and walking slowly, I reached out a
trembling hand to touch my face, and it came away wet. I could not see but only
feel the slight dampness of my palm even as I stared at it, hence I
carefully skirted the dim shapes in the gloom.
I reached out to where I knew the phone would be. A moment
passed before I could remember the number I was to call. A busy tone rewarded
my first try, but then finally, a feminine voice answered and I jumped into
speech.
“Hello Ms. ____, good
morning! This is Cat of ____. I just woke up and it was hot. Is
there no electricity? Do we have a rotating brown-out for today?” I
asked as I groped blindly for a woven native fan I kept near the phone.
“Hi Cat! There’s no
electricity but not because of any.….what happened…excuse ha?,” and
she turned away to answer somebody else who came into her office as I waited
somewhat impatiently and continued my search for the elusive abanico to fan my
overheated face.
Coming back to the phone, she continued on “The transformer at the front of ________
building near our corner exploded. Earlier this morning, somebody jumped from
_______ . SUICIDE! Yes, that was what they said. The body landed and the next
thing we know…BOOM!”
“WHAT!…. What floor?!
Omigosh…What time?!” I gasped back in astonishment as I did a little
exploding of my own.
“Well, they are not
saying anything else. Confidential and under investigation. But it was probably
an hour or so ago.”
"How about
Meralco? Do you know the time frame as to when it could be fixed?” The
logical, work-conscious part of my mind pushed me past my shocked daze because
I usually had double the emails on a Friday.
“….Unfortunately we
don’t know when Meralco will be able to fix it,” she added in a
mournful tone.
“So….he or she is
dead…whatever floor it was…and the body hitting the power lines that’s why the
transformer was affected,” my voice trailed off as I stated the
obvious in disjointed sentences.
I thanked her and automatically put down the phone. I let go
of the woven fan that I had gripped and forgotten to use during the
conversation. More beads of sweat trailed lazily down my forehead and back.
Walking this time towards the weak daylight showing through
the gauzy curtain of my balcony door, I stopped and brought my thoughtful gaze
up. Up and towards the various windows
dotting the pale-painted walls of the opposite building facing my current home.
This was my neighboring building in which one person on a Friday
morning had jumped from in order to make a grim appointment with Death and
leave the living world behind.
A faint sound interrupted my silent contemplation of the
different windows. Fancifully, the thought passed that they all looked
eerily similar to empty and unforgiving dark eyes set in an pockmarked canvas
of an uncaring face.
Glancing back into the blanket of unrelenting darkness
behind me, I cocked my head and listened intently.
The growing sound that I heard this time was familiar.
It’s absence earlier was what had torn me away from the cradling arms of
Morpheus.
The electric fan had just come back to life and was now
whirring merrily away.
but I really had a great time listening (and grooving) to its different versions - yes, even the one used as the theme song in NBC's Crime Story, and do me a favor, go take a look at Del singing this song at Little Darlin's