Losing on a Last Day

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.