Alexei Paige Steele

Alexei Paige Steele

It was already 9:30 PM but our humongous door’s doorbell rang, our mainstay house-lady, Abby Garland, let someone in. And a petite blonde woman walked into our living room with two black luxurious suitcases in hand. She had a button nose, dark blue eyes, heart shaped face and a bottom lip piercing.

My mom stood up and asked, “Can we help you?” Dad stood up also standing behind mom.

The girl looked like she’s around her early twenties. “Yeah,” she answered looking at my dad. “My mother just died; but before she did… she gave my aunt a note to give me.” She handed dad a little piece of white paper. Dad looked down on it, his wide set drown eyes getting bigger. “It had your name, number and address on it. I wanted to see if you were the right one.” She continued ignoring the six kids behind my parents and also the look on dad’s face.

Mom cleared her throat, “What is your name, sweetheart?” She asked kindly. I looked the back of Mom’s head, her black curls in a low ponytail.

The girl continued to ignore my mother and all of us. Bryce coughed loudly. “Are you Mr. Anthony Steele?” She looked like she was holding her breath.

Dad gave the person behind him, who happens to be fifteen year old Reece, the paper that the girl gave to him. “Yes, I am. Who are you?”

She looked at my mom, “I’m Charlize Marsh. I’m…” she looked around at us, one by one, “your daughter.” She ended, looking now at Dad.

Everyone’s eyes widened, except for the twins: Matthew and Belle, the two year olds, who continued on playing with the cards that I was lying out to start a solitaire game.

Mom, her blessed calm self, took Charlize’s hands and led her to the couch, next to Evan. Evan scooted over next to her and put his arms around her, like they were old friends.

I rolled my eyes, turning my back to him and looking at Charlize. She looked calm and collected; something that she could’ve gotten from my mother, but we didn’t share the same one. She turned to Evan and smiled at him, giving him a hug. Wooooooow, I thought.

Dad sat on the reclining leather chair that faced the couch that Evan and Charlize sat on. “Welcome to the family.” He smiled, looking tired.

Mom also smiled at Charlize, I felt obliged to do the same; so I did. I also took her hand in mind and squeezed it. “Wait, you don’t need me to explain?”

Dad looked at her, confused. “We don’t really work that way. If you are family, you are family; we can discuss it out of the children’s ears, but we don’t need to. Let me introduce you to your… siblings,” He looked at me, “That’s Alexei, she’s eighteen.” I smiled at her, beaming. Dad continued, “That’s Evan, next to you; he’s fourteen.” Then, he looked behind him, “This is Reece, he’s fifteen. The one behind you is Bryce; he’s nine.” He thought to himself; like he was forgetting someone.

When I was sure he wasn’t going to continue, I looked at Charlize; trying to continue for Dad, “That was my mom, you were talking to. And these are the twins; the youngest; Matthew and Belle. I also… I mean, we also have two older siblings; Justin and Lauren, twenty and twenty-five year olds. Justin’s in college. And Lauren is married to Chase. They’re having her honeymoon in Argentina right now.” Charlize smiled at me.

“Thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate you guys, accepting me with no questions.”

I nodded along with Mom and Dad. I tried to compute the ages that Dad just described. I asked, “How old are you?” Evan kicked me, which I returned with a side glare.

Dad butted in, “You don’t have to answer that question for her, but I would like to know.”

She looked around, smiling still, “I’m twenty-four.”

That was another conversation. I was shocked, “Does that mean… Dad?” I asked.

Dad and Mom told me and Evan to take Matt and Belle to the kitchen and feed them. They also ordered Bryce and Reece out of the room.

The conversation led on without my brothers, sister and I.

 

Evan sat on the stool next to Matt’s high chair. “Do you think Dad cheated on Mom?”

I took his shoulder and shook it. “Dad wouldn’t do that!” I whispered harshly.

Then, the phone rang, I ran to it, determined to not let the ringing ruin my parent’s deep conversation with Charlize. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, Alexei, is Mom there?” It was Lauren.

“Lauren! What the hell?! Why are you calling? Do you know where you’re supposed to be?” I panicked; what am I supposed to do…

She laughed lightly, “I know, I know! But I just need to talk to Mom; I think I’ve gotten news. Good news! Chase’s in the bathroom taking a shower. I told him I’ll tell you guys when we get home, but I can’t wait that long!”

“What are you talking about?” I stalled.

“I’m pregnant! Three months. I’m so happy! So is Chase, but no one knows yet; you’re the first one! Isn’t this some surprise?” She was ecstatic.

“Yeah, not the first one I’ve gotten today.” I mumbled. “Yeah, it is! But… the mother is not here. Neither is Dad. So call again later, okay?”

“WHAT?! Man, I wanted to tell them now. Well, okay; I’ll call later, but… promise you won’t tell? I want to be the one to break the news, okay?”

I said sure and hung up.

Bryce asked, “What did she say?” He looked at me, waiting for my reply.

“Nothing, just asking for Mom… and like to tell Mom that she should call her back.” I looked down at Matt’s staring dark brown-almost black-eyes that I’ve always loved. He reached up and grabbed a bunch of my curly brown hair that he loved to do.

Bryce nodded and moved on to his proudly made, peanut butter filled bread. He chewed loudly and casually. I coughed up a loud laugh and hit him in the head. He made a face at me.

The dialogue lead to everyone’s personal lives; such as Evan’s new crush in school named Jane and Bryce’s best friend’s father’s death a couple of weeks ago, my best friend Keith’s birthday coming up—and how people think or rather know that we will end up together—what I will get him, Lauren’s future baby’s name; though they do not know that he’s pregnant yet, and Justin’s stunningly attractive girlfriend—Jacqueline Delano Gervais—even her name sounded heavenly.

I laughed all the way because of my brother’s comment in every aspect of the exchange. It ended when Belle and Matt fell asleep on the vast countertop. Reese and I both carried them to bed as Evan and Bryce stayed in the kitchen to eat up all the Skippy and Jif that they could put their hands on.

While Reese carried Matthew to his black and white themed room; I carried Belle to her pink and lavender themed room. She had a white toddler bed with lavender linen and pink bed sheets. I laid her down, tucking her in. I plugged in her pink night light and turned it on. She giggled a bit in her sleep and when I looked, she smiled with her eyes closed.

I turned off the main lights and lightly pulled the door closed.

 

When I went downstairs I found my mom and Charlize in the kitchen with Reese and Evan; Bryce was put to sleep. “Where’s the father?” I asked.

Charlize stood up offering me her stool, but I shook my head no. She was really nice for that. She answered, “He went out for some air.”

I nodded and looked at Mom, “Ma’, Lauren called earlier. She asked for you to call her.”

Mom’s usually soft voice came out furious, “What? Why did she call? I told her not to make tawag here at home until later… when she’s back! Naku, that child!” She insisted for Lauren and Chase not to call unless they were heading back home; Mom thinks that it’s rude to Chase if Lauren takes her time and calls us when they’re supposed to be… well, let’s not go into that.

“Chill Mom, she just needed to tell you something.” I smiled to myself; it was so cute when Mom gets into her Filipino-Nanay voice and gets mad.

She sighed and looked at Charlize, “Will it be alright if I make a fast call?”

Charlize smiled again, which was starting to look very familiar because of how much she’d smile tonight, “Yeah, absolutely, please Katherine, I’ll be alright!”

My mom nodded, on the way out she mumbled loud enough for all of us to hear, “With these kids, I’m not so sure.”

I giggled and so did Charlize.

Evan asked her how her childhood was.

“I lived great! I was born in Los Angeles, when I turned six and my brother was born, we moved to Marin, since it was pretty close to San Francisco, I went to school there, in Children’s Day School. Then I moved went to Convent for sixth to twelfth grade. My brother went to Stuart Hall, which is a brother school with Convent. After middle school he moved to University High School; great, great school that is!” She smiled to herself. We waited for her to continue; I was kind of surprise that she had a brother. “I also have another brother, Collin; he’s two years younger than me: Twenty-two. He’s graduating in Southern Cal, taking up Global Communications in Journalism. He’s such a smart kid. The one who’s six years younger than me, the eighteen year old one is Colton, he is a senior in University; he went to school late, Mom and Dad were too attached to him.”

“You have a Dad?” Evan asked. I nudged him.

Charlize chuckled, “Oh yes, Dad died five years ago; lung cancer. But my mom held us together; I was still in school then… I went to school in Oxford, I went far from home. But I came back home and applied to UC Berkeley so I was close to home; I didn’t want to let my siblings down. Anyway, Dad was a good guy. He treated me like his own, Mom and him were best friends and they got married after I was born; he legally adopted me after the wedding and my last name became Marsh.”

Evan made it up by saying, “That was very nice of him.

“I know. I was lucky my parents had money. They gave me and my brothers led such great lives.” She answered.

I looked around the kitchen and noticed that Reese left already. He probably went to sleep. “Where are your brothers?”

Her eyes brightened, I can tell she lived for talking about her brothers, “Colton’s still in University, I helped him find an apartment once he turned eighteen in May, Mom was so happy in how he was so independent. No one lives at home anymore except the maid that cleans it every Wednesdays and Saturdays. But my Aunt and Uncle checks up on it more often than not. Collin goes to Southern Cal, so he lives in Los Angeles; he likes it there… the party scene as he called it. I wasn’t so sure about living apart from one another because I live in Manhattan, and I don’t know if my brothers can last like that. But they both just talked me into looking for your dad… our dad. And after a few weeks of trying to look for him, I found him.”

“How does that feel like?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m complete. As cliché as this might sound to you guys, but the fact that every year of my life; I knew that the father that gives me hugs everyday and that I call Daddy is not my real dad… kinda gets to me, I hate that feeling because all of my life I felt like I am faking everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love Dad, and will always; but knowing now that I found the father that helped conceive me, it completes my being. It’s not like I’m missing a part of me anymore. And I thank you guys for accepting me, even if it’s not your sister yet, just for accepting me as part of who your father is. Thank you. And… I already talked to Katherine and uhmm… our dad… they asked me to stay, and I brought my luggage because I flew in a couple of days ago and I was just staying at a hotel Manhattan; was trying to get a job and all. Then Collin and Craig came out here and asked me if I was looking for Dad. I said no and they told me to go look for him.” She laughed.

“And you found him.” I ended.

“Thankfully. Anyway, where do I stay? If you don’t mind?” She asked.

“You can stay at my room. It’s spacious and I can just share Reese’s or Evan’s. Justin’s coming home this weekend, so his room is his; I can’t offer you that one.”

“Actually, I was hoping for that… to share a room with you; we can catch up and be… sisters! I never had one, so it’d be nice to share a room with one for a change, you know?” She was constantly smiling even just a little bit.

“Alright then, let’s get your stuff up there.”

Evan went to bed also. Mom was still not done talking to Lauren, probably explaining to her what’s going on. And Dad has returned a couple of minutes ago, but excused himself to go to bed. Charlize was not offended nor was she hurt by that action, she said that it was all too much to take in, and she accepted and respected that.

Every second that I spend with my new sister, she continually gained my respect.

(to be continued...)

Contrasting Hamilton and Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson was born in Shadwell, Virginia. His parents were farmers. Jefferson was very smart and studied many things at school and college. He designed his own home, called Monticello. It was very advanced for that period of time. Jefferson married Martha Wayles Skelton in 1772. And Alexander Hamilton was not born in the United States. He was from the Caribbean island of Nevis. His father was named James Hamilton and his mother was named Rachel Fawcett Lavien. Hamilton's mother had a child from a previous marriage that she left behind when she moved to Nevis. At the time, this meant that Hamilton was illegitimate since his mother and father were not legally married. He was very sensitive about this fact. Jefferson and Hamilton’s life differences don’t stop there.

Their form of governments was also different in the mind. Hamilton was a Federalist; that had quite a few similarities with the modern day Republicans. He believed that the country should be ruled by the rich people; to him the rich people were equivalent to the “best people”. He, as well as the other Federalists, believes in a good national government. He liked the idea of a big, strong government. And the idea of having a big government will keep order within the people. He also believes that national power and dignity is worth more than rights of states. While Thomas Jefferson is a Republican, he believes that democracy is the way to go. He also thinks that the Federalist’s definition of “best people” is the closest thing American’s will have to monarchy; and that’s not a good idea. He expects a good interpretation of the Constitution; believes that the way the Constitution is written is how it should be respected, known and translated into. He thinks the national bank was unconstitutional and dangerous. He believes that people should rule, and that anyone can be president and can be anything they want (involving government); state government should be more reliable and stable than a national government. He believes that a national government should be kept at bay so that the state government will be more powerful.

Another difference is their thinking concerning the economical society of the American nation. Hamilton believes that the national greatness depended on the United States developing a strong economy. Back in the day, Americans still relied on agriculture. He believes that the economy should be dependent on big manufacturing businesses. He also believed that somehow, the economy will be in better shape if they moved the nation’s capital. Then, Hamilton asked the Congress to make a national bank. The government will be helped by this bank by getting the taxes and keeping them safe. He thinks that all Americans will be better off it there are big trading and business as such in the States. As Jefferson was a Republican; he was a country man. He liked it old fashioned. He wanted to let the economy stay as it is by being reliant on agriculture. In his view, the national bank was unconstitutional and anti-farmer; because the Bank doesn’t loan money to farmers to buy more land.

New Year's Resolution (rough draft)

I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. So I’ve got a lot to change, and I try it year by year. Every year, (even without this essay) I write some ten to fourteen resolutions that I think that’s gotten way too much on me and that’s a bad habit… every year it gets deeper and more personal. I remember one of the very first ones I did was, “don’t talk back to Mama.” I did live up to that, and up to now, still do. The way I start thinking up of these coming changes that I need to make, I think back to the year and see what I’ve done wrong, what I did right, if I made my resolutions come to life, and if I can live up to the up coming ones. Looking back into the year, I’m going to pick one that I have been going through a lot and have been affecting my studies and my way of… lifestyle: procrastination and ending up on AIM talking to people about how their day was instead of sitting in the dining room table and doing some Algebra homework or finishing up a project. That’s my problem, I get easily distracted and this has been going on since third grade, so it’s nothing new. But I never really thought of changing it, I never really got affected; since recently and the end of seventh grade. I look at my report card in the end of the six weeks of school and see a big fat D+. I’ve never seen an F in my report card and fortunately never will; but I did see worse than a D+, which was a D… I kinda just shiver and think that, “my sister’s done worse.” And now, back to the present, I’m thinking how I’m such an idiot for thinking that because I’m nothing like my sister, I shouldn’t of have let it go and fly like I did. I should’ve worked harder than I did for a better grade.

When I was younger to when I was in sixth grade I’ve done New Year’s resolution, some were reasonable: recycle. But some were a bit more absurd and won’t really happen without some scientific help: grow four inches. But I’ve done every single ones, except ones such as growing involuntarily just so I won’t get picked on and I won’t get teased; never really came to that. I’ve made sure always that I get to all of my resolutions because it was important to me. But recently, I haven’t done them because my mindset has changed and has been more intricate with different beliefs and different aspects of those beliefs. My head has been more open, yet more closed at the same time… Like, I’ve always just got with what my mother tells me to do… But I guess since seventh grade my thinking has grown and I’ve began to think way more independently, and everything I think and everything I trust have real reasons; one of them was not to do anymore resolutions. Because what I think is that I shouldn’t try to change stuff one by one, because it’s not like it’s human nature to just change just like THAT. I thought it was; but it’s not. I’ve been thinking that if I try to change me, then I’ll lose part of me in the process. I know, I’m thinking too deep and too weird, and it’s probably not too healthy to think this way, but that’s my mindset.

Anyway, since this is mandatory, none the matter with my thinking, I have to do this. And something that I’ve struggled with in the past year was being too much of a mediator. I have always gone in the middle of everyone’s conflicts because I think that I can solve it for them. (When, honestly, sometimes it doesn’t go my way.) I’ve been just the one to be in the middle and be like, “Stop it, this is dumb, don’t go that way…” Stopping a fight or an argument, it’s my thing. But the thing is that, I get in trouble because I try to stop someone from getting in trouble; that’s what I get… because I’m so trying to get into someone else’s business. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve been told this quite a couple of times already. And maybe it’s time to stop, or one by one; try to stop myself from making a decision and jumping into someone else’s pile of needles, then try to determine what I shouldn’t do because I don’t want to get into trouble; that I can’t avoid when I do get in the situation. Getting back… That’s what I should change; is that I should not act as if I’m the umpire; the referee; the intermediary; the third party; the negotiator, because I’m not; I bet you that I’m not even supposed to be in that situation or that problem; that dispute, that might or might not end up in a volcano eruption, so I should just stay out of it. I need to work on that because last time I tried being the cool kid and be like stop it (!), I ended up being suspended, not a good idea if I want to graduate on stage this year.

I’m planning to work on this goal is a mystery to me, because being the middle child; I’ve always just been the one to tell my sister to be nice to my brother and to tell my brother to not annoy my sister to death, to me it’s instinct; it’s like in my nature or something to do that. So, when I see disputes out of the house, I get into it because (1) I don’t believe in violence in that sense, (2) I can’t imagine just standing there as someone grabs someone else’s hair and drag them down the stairs or something, and (3) I wasn’t raised up to watch someone get hurt; emotionally or physically. And so it’s difficult for me to understand how I’ll get started. Maybe I should start with my patience. I’m usually really patient and just chill and Zen; but sometimes as everyone else, I lose it… I can only take too much. Maybe I’ll work my patience a little more, everyday; and by the end of the year I can start trying to not negotiate everything as if it’s a business deal.

This is the first New Year’s resolution I’ve had since sixth grade, so I thought hard and thoroughly about this, I’ve really looked deep in my to find the best one that I have been having trouble with. I’m not saying that being the median isn’t a good thing… Sometimes it’s pretty handy when my sister and brother are both at their breaking point, at the same time; I stay the calm and collected one. But sometimes, as I’ve mentioned before, I get in trouble for something I’m trying to fix, and that’s all because I can’t seem to follow one simple rule of common courtesy: don’t get into other people’s businesses.

Cassie's sis

Mr. Embers, my thirty-two year old teacher, took the call.

“Yellow!” He answered enthusiastically. After a few moments of listening to the person on the other side of the line he said, “Yeah, Cadence is right here…” He trailed off, still listening.

That’s when my heart started to race. I knew it was for me. I looked back to my best friend, Vanessa Aiken, my eyes popping out. I mouthed: O-M-G. She mouthed back: I know! I mean, I knew that what I did earlier that day; smoking in the halls where there were no cameras to hide from, was bad, but I never knew I’d get caught.

Vanessa and I were still staring at each other when Mr. Embers said, “I see, but don’t you think you should just wait… I mean…” Pause. “Yeah, I know, but the class is gonna end in fifteen minutes.” Then came another pause. “Oh, alright.” He hung up.

I knew my cue to stand up, but Mr. Embers simply didn’t see my motions, or he was playing stupid, “Ms. Cadence Anderson…”

“Yes, Mr. Embers.” I answered in a goody-two-shoes tone of voice.

“Take all your stuff and go down to Ms. Wilshire’s office, please.”

“Okay,” I said without a fight.

Ms. Wilshire is my counselor and adult-friend because she was young, only twenty-seven. Well, actually she’s been an old family friend, her and her family to my family and me. She’s always been Chelsea, not Ms. Wilshire. But as a student I have no choice but to call her Ms. Wilshire.

When I came into the counselor’s office where the other four counselors’ offices are located, I peeked from the little gap of the door window of Ms. Wilshire’s office. I saw her brown bob that went down on her shoulders and her brown eyes staring into the faces of three big guys dressed as police officers; and I would later find out that they were cops.

“Wait, what is this about, Ms. Wilshire?” I asked walking in.

“Cade, it’s nice for you to have come with out a fight.” She said smiling with her big brown eyes looking sad. “Sit. Don’t worry; you aren’t in trouble, sweetie.”

“I bet not, because I didn’t do any harm to anyone.” I said relieved, but hearing it now; it seemed ironic that I said that.

The three cops looked at each other as if trying to figure out what I said and how it’ll connect to what I was about to hear. They introduced themselves, “I’m Adam Dominguez and these are my fellow police officers, Justin Evans,” He said pointing to a tall, blond man with sparkling blue eyes. Mr. Dominguez had black hair and dark brown eyes. Continuing, he put his hand on the other cop’s shoulder, “And this is Allan Quest.” Allan as I call him had green eyes and brown hair. “We’re in charge of the search of Cassidy Anne Scott.”

“Wait, what search?” I asked outraged standing up from my seat. “You search for someone when you’re looking for someone missing! My sister is sooooo not missing!” I sat back down with the help of the second cop, whom I will grow fond of and love like an older brother, Justin.

He said, “Cadence, please calm down. We’re sent here to tell you the news and to bring you home to your parents safely, okay?”

I shrugged him off saying, “No! I am not going home with any of you. Ms. Wilshire, please tell them to lay off. My sister, my sister is gonna come home in no need of any of your help.” I wanted to leave the room because I knew that if the cops were involved, there surely would be something wrong. I wanted to leave the room because I felt I was being suffocated by the heat and by the crowded-ness of the room. I wanted to leave the school because I knew I had to find Cassie without any of their help. I wanted to leave the school because I wanted to prove them wrong. I wanted to leave my life because I knew something bad had happened to Cassie while I tried dismissing the fact. I had to leave my life because from that day on, my life would’ve changed forever.

Cassidy was not my only sibling. We’re six in all. My mom had a son out of wedlock, my twenty-seven year old brother, Caleb John Allen. My dad was a widower, and from his previous marriage, he has a daughter, my twenty-six year old sister, Camille Marie Anderson… And her ‘C’ is only a coincidence. Then came my sister, twenty-five year old, Cassidy Anne. My other brother, Conner Richard, now twenty-one came after Cassie. After Conner came me, Cadence Denise, sixteen year old junior. The youngest, Cameron Tucker is only twelve. Even though we were a pretty big family, my closest confidant is Cassie. Cassie and Caleb are both married. Caleb to Jenna Mayhems, they have a two year old son, Carson Mark Allen. Cassie’s also married, to Anthony Scott. They have a son, two-year-old Christopher Jacob. They were expecting a baby boy within a month and a half. They were planning to name him Charlie Logan. Camille had a daughter, three-year-old Christina Adrienne Jenkins. She wanted to continue the ‘C’ mark, because she was also part of it. She isn’t married, but she lives in with her college hubby and Christina’s dad, Kobe Jenkins.

I asked Ms. Wilshire to drive me home because I did not feel comfortable tooling around and back home in a cop’s car. She nicely said okay but the cops looked at each other weirdly. They weren’t sure if my mother would let, Allan said.

“They’d let. They trust Chelsea. I trust her. You guys could follow along or something, but I’m not driving in that cop-mobile.” I said furiously.

“Alright, but you drive safely and do not do anything that you would regret, Chelsea. We will trust you.” Justin said, and somehow, now knowing that my sister, my comfort, my confidant, my Cassie was missing; I felt an urge to hug Justin, for standing up to my protection, even if it did kinda probably hurt Chelsea’s feelings.

“Oh, Chelsea.” I cried, hugging her and tugging against the urge to cry. “Please tell me Cassie’s gonna be okay.”

Chelsea patted my back and hugged me at the same time, “She’ll be alright, Cadence.”

I took assurance to that and walked to the parking lot where Chelsea’s car was parked, a few slots far from the cop-mobile. I stepped inside the white Ford truck, sitting down in the passenger seat. Chelsea followed along to the driver’s seat.

“Cade, do you need a hug again?” She asked.

“Oh, God… So bad.” That was when I started crying. I felt in the tip of my guts that something horribly wrong happened to Cassie. I couldn’t put my finger on it, or I could, but I bluntly didn’t.

When she released me, she said, “Cadence, I want you to know that we’ll find Cassie, okay? Don’t show anyone that you’re scared. Stay calm. Don’t show people that you’re fragile. Cry with family and friends, where you feel the comfort and love. Not in front of cameras where people will criticize you. Your mother called before the police officers came.”

“She did?” I interrupted.

“Yes, and I got to talk to her and your brothers. They’re vulnerable. And you know that I love them like family, as I love you. I want you to be their standing fence, I’ll help you and everything, but I just want you to be the one leading them, okay? Stay strong for them and for all of us. I’m not pressuring you, hon, please don’t think that… But I just want you to know how much trust and respect that I’ve got for you and that’s the reason that I think that you could be the only hope to keep this family together, okay?”

“Okay.” And that was it of that conversation. We drove in silence for the rest of the drive to Cassie and Tony’s house. When we got to the three-bedroom-home, there were about seven police cars parked out front and a crowd of people that I both knew and did not know. I knew they were all looking for my Cassie. The three cops were still trailing after us, even while walking towards the house.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm, “What the…” I started.

“Young lady, you aren’t allowed inside unless you’re close relatives or friends.” The older man of his forty’s said to me.

“That’s nice, cause I am family! I’m Cadence Anderson; the fourth child. Cassie’s sister. Let me in!” I screamed.

Justin chipped in saying, “She’s Cadence Anderson. Don’t worry, Walter.”

By that, I was let inside where I found my mom sitting side by side with my sister-in-law Jenna, my brothers, Conner and Cameron and my cousins, Jade, Laura and Sean. Cassie’s son, Christopher or Santa as he’d like to be called, and it fit his persona too, because of his jolly appearance and friendly attitude sat on the floor next to Christina or Doll because of how close she resembles a wax doll. Carson sat on Conner’s lap playing with baby keys. My sister’s best friends, Amber Clad, Ashley Buoyant, Christina Whitman, Jane Ashford, Cory Valmont, and Justine Rembrandt were standing next to my oldest brother Caleb. Some of mom’s friends were also standing by, along with my dad’s friends and some uncles and aunts. My dad was at a business trip in Manhattan.

My brother Cameron stood up and hugged me. While hugging my brother I could see my mom sobbing silently, and that’s when everyone else started crying also, except for the cops. “She’s gonna come home, Cameron, don’t worry.” I assured him, but also at the same time assuring myself.

After everyone wiped their tears away, the cops pulled out my mother, to investigate on her I guess. I wanted to scream at them, even at Justin, for thinking that my mom could have had something to do with this nightmare. But, I held against my will because I thought to myself, It’s their job to count everyone as a suspect. But right after my thought came through my head I quickly dismissed it because to count someone as a suspect, there has to be a crime committed: does that mean some crime has been committed to my big sister. I wish that wasn’t true.

When my mom and the three cops left I looked Camille while she hugged Caleb, silently crying. I heard her say, “Caleb, what’s happened…?”

I wanted to give her a hug but I couldn’t move. To support myself, I sat down on the rocking chair that Tony’s bought for Cassie since her stomach started to grow. When the door opened and we heard snapshots and people talking outside (the reporters), everyone looked up; even the little ones, Christina, Carson and Christopher. Only when Christina came running to the door did I realize that my best friends Vanessa and Keith Mayer were the ‘intruders’. Keith grabbed Christina and gave her kisses like a dad would, but Keith was only sixteen as Vanessa and I.

I walked up to Vanessa and gave her a hug. She continued on to the others, conversating as to when was the last time they’ve seen Cassie. I led Keith into the living room as he sat down quietly, Christina slowly drifting into her own world in his lap. I took Christopher, who looked exactly like Cassie into my lap and kissed his forehead. He laid his head on my shoulder and took my arm and wrapped it around him. I started to cry. Where are you, Cassie? I thought. Where are you to hold Chris?

After a few hours, it was already seven thirty. It’s been three hours or so since I got home. I wasn’t holding Chris anymore and now I’m sitting on the kitchen island where as my siblings and niece and nephew sat on the chairs eating on the table. My aunt, Kelly and Uncle Robert cooked some mashed potatoes and ribs and served it along with soup and orange juice.

I felt an arm wrap around my waist, it was Conner. “How you doing, you?”

“Well, I don’t know. Cassie hasn’t returned my calls, Conner. How about you?” I answered.

“We’ll find her tomorrow, Cade.”

“I wonder if she’s eating right now. What’s she eating do you think?” I looked as his green eyes sparkled.

“I don’t know. But knowing her, I bet it’s at some fancy ass restaurant, you know?” He giggled a bit as he let go of my waist and I let myself down on the floor, walking towards Vanessa, who was still at my place.

“Vane, do you think she’ll come home?” I asked.

Everyone looked at me quizzically. I knew they thought I doubted Cassie’s homecoming. I held my hands up defensibly.

I said, “I’m just asking. I want to know the facts.”

Shawn laughed nervously, “Like always, you wanna know the facts.” Everyone giggled even more, but not the normal family laugh that we’d always shared, it was fake; trying to just ignore the sadness lingering over us.

“Look, I just don’t…” I started but I felt my arms wiggling away, my feet began to shake a little and my voice broke. I looked at Camille for help, my only sister that I can count on being here right now.

She walked towards me and said, “Cade, shhh.”

After that, she put her arms around me as I melted away in her sweet hug. I clung on to her and softly whispered, “I’m not sure if we’ll get Cassidy back.” It hurt me to say that, but it was what I was feeling; what needed to be out in the open.

I felt Camille flinch a little and I could also feel everyone’s eyes on us. My mom crept away, out of the dining room. Camille motioned everyone to kinda keep away for a bit. She sat me down and pulled my Aunt Kelly and Uncle Johnny for a second. The only things I heard from their conversation was, “She needs me right now. I’ll just talk to her. I don’t want her to lose hope.” This coming from Camille, and all was true. They replied okay and pushed everyone out of the dining room.

When we were alone, Camille sat across from me and took my hands. “Cadence, why do you think that we won’t get Cassie back?”

“I don’t know. I just have… have a feeling… you know.” I answered, tripping off it.

“Well we will. Please Cade, don’t loose your faith. We won’t end up in anything that we want if you lose hope. Look at Mom… and get the picture of Dad crying. Cade, be strong.”

“I am, I’m trying, I really am.”

“I know, but… I can see your holding your feelings off. Why?”

“I’m trying not to. I mean… no, I am not trying not to… I don’t know. Camille, I’m so confused. I don’t know where Cassie is and I can’t eat and I won’t sleep and I don’t know what’s happened to her. I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Cade, tell me what you’re feeling right now. Just so you can vent. So when we go out there to meet with everyone, you’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. Please don’t ask me that right now, Cam. I don’t know. I really, really, really don’t know. I just don’t know. I feel like it’s all not true. It’s just a nightmare, but I’m awake… I mean, it seems all so fake; I seen Cassidy a few hours ago. I seen her. I seen her! I was just with her. I gave her a hug and we talked, we talked and talked. She was so happy and beautiful… She was so beautiful. I was just talking to her… And then suddenly I was being picked up by cops at school telling me they were in charge of the search of Cassidy Anne Scott. It seems so surreal. It’s just not real, it’s so not real! I want to think that she’ll be coming back, but how if she’s not? What if she’s gonna be gone… forever, for us not to see? I don’t want that to happen, Cam. I don’t want that to happen.”

Camille put her arms around me and said, “I don’t want that to happen either, Cadence… I don’t either. And let’s pray to God that she’ll be safe. Let’s not lose hope, Cade; I mean, we’ve got all day tomorrow. We’ll find her, and if it makes you feel better we’ll help with the search for her. If it makes you feel better, we won’t sleep tonight. We’ll go with Allan and Justin to look for her, kay?”

I looked away, I looked at the picture magnet on the fridge… it was of Cassie sitting on the rocking chair while pregnant with Chris and I was sitting next to the rocking chair and holding her belly, making a weird face. She was only six month pregnant that time but she was huge! Chris was a big baby. Unlike little Charlie. The last time that Cassie went to the doctors to get a check-up for Charlie, I went with her. Then they took a picture and Charlie wasn’t that big. The doctor said it was because Cassie was stressing a lot.

“You promise?” I asked.

“Yeah, I promise. Come on, let’s go out now.”

I followed her as she held my hand into the living room where everyone was positioned, watching the news displaying Cassie’s latest picture with Chris. It was at my mom’s house three weeks ago. I stopped for a little while to stare at Cassie; she was smiling while Chris held on tight on her blond curls.

I started to cry but I choked it up. Camille just tightened her grip on my hands. After that she pulled me out of the house looking for the cops. Though we did find so many cops and many reporters talking to either their cameramen or the camera itself, we couldn’t find the two cops we were most comfortable with, Justin and Allan. Camille’s boyfriend, Kobe, was outside too. When he saw us he hugged me and kissed Camille.

“How’re you, young one?” He asked me, taking my cheek in his left palm.

“I don’t know.” I answered giving him another hug.

Camille asked him, “Did you see Allan and Justin?” When he looked at her quizzically, she continued, “Allan Quest… Justin… I forgot.”

“Evans.” I continued for her.

“Yeah, Evans.” She said.

“Yeah, babe.” Kobe replied, “

About me

About Me ,

Marrion ;

 

My name is Marrion Cruz, and I was brought to this world on September 5, 1995 ; in a place called Manila, Philippines. That makes me Filipina, and I can speak fluent Tagalog. I have two names, [1] Marrion [2] Charissa, Marrion means Little Mary, rebel or hardheaded, and Charissa means precious gift. So my entire name is, Marrion Charissa Andaca (ççmy mom’s maiden name) Cruz. I have two siblings, a younger brother named Miguel and an older sister named, Mickaela. I’m going to turn 13 a few days from now. My parents are still married.

When I was 3 months old my mom took me and my sister here to San Francisco, and since then I’ve been going here every 6 months (like, I’m in the Philippines for six months and then I’d be going back here to San Francisco for six months.) That is because my dad lived in the Philippines that time. I grew up with my mom’s cousin [when I ever the six months come that I live in the Philippines that is] , Daddy Al and his wife, Mommy Neth. They have 4 kids [which make them my cousins], Ate Kathy, Kuya Pok, Kuya Bongbong, and Ate Gelly. (Kuya means older brother and Ate means older sister in Tagalog. You say it before the name of an older cousin/sibling, ‘cause it’s like for respect.) I was with them since I was one month old; every time I’m in the Philippines that is. Because my mom and dad works till night time, and so I sleep in my Aunt  &Uncle’s. They are like my second parents. I went to three schools in the Philippines, when I was younger. (You see, my mom and dad and sister, and brother settled here in the Philippines when I was 7 or 8.) My schools there was St. Paul Parish / Private school, so I graduated there, for kindergarten but then my mom found out about a good school, Centex Elementary School, but the thing was if I wanted to be enrolled in Centex, I would have to start kindergarten AGAIN! They don’t take first graders or above; only kinder. So before they can take me, they had me on waiting list so my mom enrolled me to another school. I’m not sure if I was in first grade or kinder when my mom entered me in Emilio Jacinto. But after a few weeks my parents got a notice that I passed the test thing for Centex, so I dropped out of Emilio Jacinto and got to Centex. Confusing, I know.

This paragraph is about my little obsession to shoes. Yeah, shoes; Vans, Jordans, Air Force, Dunks, & Chucks! Vans are my new thing, I got new ones so yeah. I get like really pissed when people somehow messes with them, like for instance STEPPING on my shoes are inappropriate, it’s just that; dude, why make them look dirty and things. Like, what the freak? Shoes are my best friends. Those kicks are just, MAN! So please, don’t do anything to piss me off when it comes to my shoes. ;O

My favorite colors are; blue, purple, black and white. I also like movies; comedy, adventure, action, HORROR, even sappy romance movies are cool. I’m totally in love with movies; I watched tons this summer. And I’ve been spending time at home all summer so I’d rent movies, just random ones- and I’d like them. And like, on T.V. this summer, there was a lot of interesting movies just by surfing the channel and things. The last movie I watched before the last day of school was The Dark Knight; I watched it the day before school started. Yeah, it was tight, I just watched it for fun and things, but then I liked it in the end. My favorite movies as of now are The Notebook and I Am Legend and The Dark Knight. Music is my life, like really! Every thing I do I must have my iPod with me, even just doing homework, it soothes my nerves. Like, reading, and listening to music. Those are cool things to do. I may not come off as like the type who likes reading, [most people are like, “Dude, you don’t READ!”] well, I am. I like reading, it takes me to like a lot of places, and I don’t know. I just feel smart by reading, cause sometimes I just don’t feel smart, and cause people don’t treat me like I am. People think I’m stupid and things. Don’t know why, but forget them. Back to music, okay I am like totally into boy bands. My favorites are N’Sync, Back Street Boys [I know, they are pretty lame now, but whatever], Boys II Men, Day 26, and how can I forget; THE JONAS BROTHERS! Yeah, they’re like the thing right now. (Like, FORGET HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, IT’S ALL ABOUT CAMP ROCK, haha) I don’t necessarily have a “favorite” song, cause if I say them all; I’d just be wasting your time, and my ink. There’s too much. But my favorite book is Almost Home, True Believer, and At First Sight. Nicholas Sparks’ books are like really moving. The words he uses and the way he puts them are cool. My hobbies are pretty much just talking on the phone, being on the computer, watching movies [theatres or TV], eating, and talking, reading, listening to music and singing. I play football, not like on a team or anything just for fun with my brother. Plus, skateboarding, I skate when I hang out and things. It’s as close to flying [other than on an airplane] as I can get. Oh, and I’m not like those other girls that are super in love with Hannah Montana / Miley Cyrus; honestly, I am not into her, she’s just don’t seem like the best role model or whatever.

Now, SUPERHEROES; oh yeah. They’re like the biggest thing ever. They’re the coolest “people” out there. Like S u p e r m a n and B a t m a n are my main ones. Superman is like THE BOMB! He’s super tight and things. He’s just like THE MAN! Oh and Batman? He has the sickest car in the whole universe; his bat mobile is like so tight. They make you start hating the “Green Goblin and Joker types” Now, the infamous  JOKER? He’s way different. I have a crush on J o k e r (= Ha ha, true though; he’s like the most handsome person on Earth, no play. I know people find him creepy, but the way Heath Ledger portrayed him on the latest Batman movie, The Dark Knight, makes him so WOW. It was so tight the way he said, “W h y s o s e r i o u s?” It must be the best line in the history of villain lines. And I seriously was like, Man, why do people hate on Joker? I know, it’s so weird, I never hated Joker though. & plus the thing when he went all like,  “W a n t t o s e e a m a g i c t r i c k?” then he shoves that man’s head on the pencil; that was the BEST scene ever!!

Now, speaking of “crushes”, I have a HUGE crush on Justin Timberlake and Ryan Gosling. And the other day, I went to my elementary school to help out, and I was helping my fifth grade teacher first, and her like “helper” teacher, Liana, and I argued about how Justin Timberlake looked “weird” when he had curly hair and when he bleached it. I thought it was like funny, we were having some really messed up conversation about that, for like thirty minutes. And Ryan Gosling, OH WOW! That’s all I have to say, he’s just indescribable.

I’ve written so much now, but I just called my friend and I told her about this assignment and she reminded me WHAT ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS? So then here go, I’ll write about five of them- Daisy, my best friend since second grade, Karina, my other best friend and she’s mi hermana, we talk about the most random things! Elaine, the best person I can talk to, I can tell her anything that is in my mind. Anna, my really nice but sometimes aggressive sweet friend, and of  course, MARCOS MUNGUIA! He’s my best male friend, like really; I know I can trust him with anything. We spend lots of times hugging, but then we don’t get teased cause then everyone knows that we’re the best of friends. I love him so much! [as ofcourse my best friend] He’s trustworthy and really friendly, and gives the best sweetest hugs on Earth!

Oh, let me just add that I’m a big junk food addict. I know, it’s bad for you and all, but I do have my limitations. But chocolate and chips and energy drinks are like the best companion. And, plus my favorite subject is Language Arts, and NO I am not just saying that cause this is the subject this “About Me” is for, it’s cause I like making stories and writing about ANYTHING and I love reading. My least favorite subject is Math; I’m not really the best at that.  I really hate the way people try to like be on the same line as “cool” people, like they follow the “trend” because it’s supposedly cool, it’s like Dude! Originality, duh! So yeah.

But yeah; I guess you know so much about me, that I should stop now. [; But yeah, I guess that’s all that I can say right now. I’m ALMOST thirteen and I must say, I have deep thoughts about different subjects. Right now, I don’t have a clue about what job I’d want after college, and yes I know it’s not the best way to like be on “track” or yeah, but that’s what I am, I go by the flow, and I live today and not tomorrow or yesterday. Yahknoh?

 

 

 

 

 

Summa' Inspiration

Marrion Cruz, Sumaa Inspiration

the stop lights, the beeping cars, the growing pedestrian population

the square lights on toppling high buildings

 fighting against the natural wave of light from the moon

the open hearted marches of love, pride, unity, nudity, 

 showing all you have just because you have it parades

the lesbian, gay, the bisexuals and transgender's love for one another ;

when can we havv thaat' [[?!]]

the castro street, feel the love from all souls//.

the hilly streets of chinatown

 smells of chicken & chowmein

 oh the dim sum & sio mai

the librarys w/good worn out books

 and the stinky bathrooms that no one really uses

the prius cars bcaahs' i care, you care

 for the environment

                    mother earth

the muni buses with taggers lurking every corner

 of the bus//

 specially the back

the marker writing on the wall confessing love to

 'CL' or chuckie + Eva thang going on every surface.

tenderloin homeless friends

 ready to smack you on the head w//a starbucks cup

  if you try to take his or her 30cents.

the latino spanish speaking homies & chinamen -no english please- fob(s) 

 trying to understand thaa' negro slang 

 & bigass weirdass words from caucasions

the hippie loaded Haight-Ashbury 

 theyyr' the movement , ask about 'em ||

the sanfrancisco ,, not dalycity or oakland weather 

bcaahs' i care, you care 

 SFCITYBAYAREA.

Charlotte

To Believe or Not To Believe, That is the Question

By: Marrion Cruz

Grouped with: Sabrina Armstrong, Kenia Campos and Christina Curtis

 

(Before you go on, I want you to know that these words are all written and thought out by me and if you don’t believe in some of these opinions, it’s OKAY! I’m not going to force you to believe anything, just judge; judge and keep it to yourself. Thank you!)

 

Charlotte, the school “ghost” as they say. She’s been a ghost in Marina for a long time, but the teachers say that they see some not very natural things going on and they blame Charlotte, if she’s real. Personally, I do not believe in ghosts, I mean, DUH as a kid yeah, I believed in ghosts. I thought they were real, one time I even made myself believe that the opening of a closed door was caused by my great-uncle, Papa Boy’s ghost, just ‘cause I missed him and also so I can brag to my sister that I’ve felt a ghost. But it wasn’t a ghost, I found out that the weather was so windy that time that it blew towards the door and opened. In the Philippines, there were lots of Filipino myths, that there was an Aswang (bad Satan ghost), and Tibaklang which were demon-horses and Dila (The Tongue) who had a long tongue and would put his tongue inside the holes of bamboo roofs into the house to grab a little baby inside a pregnant woman’s womb. I got so scared when I was little, but as I got older it was just a way to kinda scare the kids. Like the Dila, so then the kids would go so sleep early, Aswang so kids won’t go to certain places the adults would go like, “No, not there, there’s an aswang there! They’ll get you.” So Charlotte to me is not real. She’s some kind of reasoning that people would blame just because they don’t have anything else to blame (those weird things happening in Marina) at. Growing up at a place where people believe so much weird, enchanting, unbelievable, some-what-stupid things; I made myself believe that there were ghost, and all those things that would give me nightmares every other night when I thought about it. To me now, and I will always believe, the enchantments and myths and scary things that people believe in is plain denial.  People blame these innocent things just because no one is there to blame. In some cases it’s just their imaginations, that they are seeing things. Especially at night, pretend like at an office, you’re doing grave yard because you need the extra Benjamin’s, and then you see light pass you, your eyes are just playing with you. Probably by that time it’ll be really late and you’re super sleepy, and your eyes are drooping. That happens to me way too many times, late night watching TV, then I suddenly sense something behind me, but that’s just gonna be some wind from an open window or rather my imagination or my brother or sister sneaking up on me. You know on TV or on movies they show cemeteries as these scary places filled with dead bodies and with tombs, it’s not true. Okay, it is filled with tombs and dead bodies under the tombs, but it’s not scary at night. I mean, the cemeteries here aren’t scary to me at all. So I don’t know what people are stressing about how scary they are and whatever else they try to stick into their minds. I think cemeteries are really interesting places believe me, they’re homey to me and just the smell and view of all these people that past away before me. The cemetery is said to be scary ‘cause at night time scary bugs and zombies lurk around there and everything, like the ones in Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video. I just laugh at that cause if you think that the cemeteries here are scary, you would die of coward ness if you tried to walk into cemeteries in the Philippines, cause the aura and view and everything in the Philippines somewhat contrast to what it is here. In the Philippines the cemeteries have real live people who live near the tombs and sleeps like on the tombs because they don’t have anywhere else to go, but they aren’t scared! But here, the people gets creped out just by thinking about a pumpkin with lights in it. The whole factor of being scared with Charlotte and zombies [and pumpkins for God’s sake?!] are pretty funny, and really stupid. I think that is why people in the States’ make such a big deal into pranking people, other than for the fun of it, it’s because Americans are pretty gullible. They get freaked out by plastic spiders. Those scary little ghosts that everyone is talking about are just for talk, just because no one has anything else to talk about. Like Charlotte, right, she was like alive probably a hundred years ago, or something, and it’s just an exaggerated story. Things go by really fast, and people add more stuff to it than it really is, just for fun, and just so people would talk more about it and/or pay more attention to what they are trying to say. To make some kind of small talk people try to persuade people that Charlotte is real or some other soul is real. I believe that if someone is dead, or just died, I don’t think that you should worry about them anymore, they’re probably happier where ever they are when they died than where they were when they were alive. Maybe they’re even in Heaven now, who knows? They’re having peace in their life [or afterlife] for once, let them enjoy it, not like stress about them more, they’re dead for God’s sake, leave them alone and just give respect by moving on! And back to Charlotte, anyways, probably Charlotte is like some bullied girl that fell off the stage and broke her neck, she probably wasn’t even dead! You know how when someone doesn’t go to school students jump into conclusion. Like, if someone wasn’t at school, someone says, “Ohhh, he ditched!” or “Omigod, she’s totally busted, she probably suspended or something!” Whatever, it’s to make some kind of explanation that can’t be explained at that moment. It’s just some story that’d gone way too far. Like probably Charlotte was at the hospital trying to get better and then dropped out of school? Basically, I believe it was just a kind of gossip people made up. Who knows? Not a lot of people, huh. I don’t know what happened, and you don’t know what happened. I strutted my way through Marina on rainy foggy days alone last year, cause I went to the bathroom and walked around or something, but I didn’t feel anything. I still don’t feel anything, like I’m a TA so then I walk around Marina alone to get some kind of paper or something like that for a counselor but nothing really happens. Lately, I’ve been trying to get to like a point where I’d stop at one point randomly near the auditorium to see what I’ll feel or what I’ll see. But nothing! A few days ago the door to the auditorium door was opened so I peeked in (I was getting something from the cafeteria so I wasn’t like ditching class or anything!) and I tried to stay a little long and just stare at the stage, but nothing. I didn’t see or feel anything, maybe my sixth sense isn’t cooperating or my third eye wasn’t open. I don’t really know, but I still believe that these are coming from people’s imagination and most importantly from their mouths. In the Philippines they have the Day of the Dead, or All Souls’ Day on November 1. On that day people spent the whole hot day in the cemetery, and then sometimes at night too. (But if not at night then by 6 PM you have to be home, or else Mama Mary, the Virgin Mary, will go get you and give you to Jesus. See? Talk about myths.) I’m one of those lucky people that spent the night in the cemetery, and I was like 6 or 7, not long ago. And I remember walking in at like 7:30 PM and it was dark out cause it was like that in the Philippines at that time and so I was a bit scared. But the whole night there where candles lit and it was so dark and I just ran around and played. Nothing scary and I was a small, timid, easily-scared seven year-old at that time! I’ve never felt anything like ghosts before and if I do, I’ll inform you and I vow to believe in them, but that’s not gonna happen. One of the days my family decides to go to the Philippines around All Souls’ Day I’ll spend the night in the Cemetery again and I promise you I wouldn’t feel anything either. I mean, people believe that there are ghosts because it’s Halloween; they feel obligated to feel this way because they won’t be a good sport about it. I’ve asked other people, like my aunts and my cousins how they feel about ghosts and Halloween combined, and why they feel that way. Some said its real and it’s scary, most said that it’s because everyone else believes in it. So that’s kind of like saying, “It’s cool, and everyone thinks it’s cool, so I think it’s cool.” That’s the same reason that other people from other countries don’t like using the word individuality on us, (although it is a pretty word) because everyone else dress the same, and everyone thinks something is cool because someone else said it’s cool. Like ghosts, people believe it because other people do. There’s like rarely originality left in the United States. And that’s sad. And Christians believe in ghouls and souls and things also for religious beliefs, I believe that everyone has a soul, good or bad, they have them. And they go to hell or Heaven when they die, but I really don’t want to talk about that because I honestly, personally do not like talking about Logic and Literal things and then mixing my personal, religious beliefs. Because it confuses the people, and it confuses me, because everyone knows that all the scientific things and the logical things that are real don’t match everything with the religious belief, and it would confuse me and I would question God and question what I believe in and I don’t want to do that, because I like Catholics and I like what I believe in.

 

Something that’ll get your mind thinking: Imagine this, you just moved in an old abandon house. People say that it is haunted, but when you looked at it, it seemed normal. A few weeks after you’ve moved in you leave your 20 dollar bill in you kitchen table, then when you come back 30 minutes later, the dope isn’t there anymore! You freak out, then what? You say, “Omigod, there’s ghosts in this house!” And if you are religious, like all Filipinos, you’ll add, “I’ll get this house blessed by a priest!” So then those “ghouls” that are haunting your new home-sweet-home will go away to hell, where they belong, am I right? About the situation where you’ll freak out, not the hell thing. (Probably that too, but whatever.) When that happens to you one time, ignore it, doesn’t really mean anything, probably someone in your house thought it was theirs. But when it happens more than one time, then get worried. Not cause there’s going to be a ghost around, just because maybe you’re living with really fast hands that swipe your money just like THAT. (=

 

 

Pinay Poems

You Bring Out The Filipina In Me

Maiana Minahal

 

you bring out the Filipina in me

the language born of blood in me

the p instead of f in me

the visayan the tagalong in me

the ancestors in me

 

you bring out

the Magellan in me

the revolution of seven thousand islands in me

the survive 500 years of colonizers in me

 

you bring out the guerrilla soldier in me

the olongapo bar hostess in me

the mail order bride in me

 

you bring out the ‘bahala na’ immigrant in me

the god they’re so America in me

the yes, i do speak English in me

the tnt green card in me

 

you bring out the pinay in me

the sass in me smartass badass in me

the proud walker shit talker

third world girl the majority in me

 

you bring out the ‘barkada’ in me

wolf among sheep in me

the danger the desire in me

the drink til i’m drunk

fuck til i’m good and fucked

 

you bring out the queer in me

the duke in me

the brave beautiful butch in me

coracious femme in me

the ‘bastos’ the ‘bakla’

 

the ‘walang hiya’ in me

 

you bring out the wake up

laughing laughing

not crying

in

my brother

my brother

‘mahal mahal kita’

 

yes you do

oh yes you do

 

R

Angelina Feril

R

You used You abused

You took for granted

And always expected

            You requested You implored

            You so subtly demanded

            (for gas money, cigarettes a free meal or two)

            You made everyone feel obligated

            (to give and provide everything for you)

And if they didn’t

If they wouldn’t five you what you wanted

Guilt was a good way to go

For when you insisted

It was your way or no way at all

            You betrayed You violated

            You assumed someone would get your back

            And you always resented

            When your expectations were not met

You “were hurt” You “were wronged”

You “were persecuted for no reason”

You “were dishonored and victimized”

But truth is not once did you show appreciation

            Appreciation for support—

            Physical, emotional, and material

            Nor the fact that the love and care I

            Showed was virtually unconditional

 

Magellan’s Got Nothin’ on My Lola

Pia Cristina Infante

My lola

Swings

From Fullerton to the Philippines

In stories told

From a green lawn chair

 

My lola

Wears

Skin soft and dark

A ripe avocado ‘bulaklak’

Plucked from the Bulakan

Where the carabao

Speak only Ilokano

 

My lola

Smiles

Baptisms of brown

Spilling secrets even lolo never

Knew

Like how to wrap ‘suman’

Smooth

In velvet leaves from banana trees

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or how to run laps

‘round a fast flood of ash

In the race against Mt. Pinatubo

 

My Lola steps

Between lives crosses thousands of Blue Ocean

Miles

Swims to Pampanga and back

In two seconds flat

Same trip

Took Magellan

A rough ten years

But you don’t read about

Maria Juanita Francisca del Oro Misael

In the ‘History of the Pacific’

 

Magellan’s got nothin’ on my lola and if that sucker ever reads this poem

He better blush when he says

My Lola’s name

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Response to the Queer Sister of Color

Pia Cristina Infante

Contrary to what

You may have heard

About Asian women

I am not always nice

Contrary to what

Images may come to mind

About Catholic raised Filipina

Women

I am not necessarily patient or

Forgiving

 

Contrary to what

You may think you know about

Politically active Filipina dykes

I refuse to further participate

In a minority politics

Which perpetuate

The Myth: American racial

Consciousness in two-

Toned / black and white

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you are another sister of color

/A queer sister of color/

contrary to what you

may expect from a queer Asian-

ambiguous sister

I cannot embrace you

Until YOU

                        SEE

                                    ME

And that means

It is your job

Not mine

To educate your self out of

Ignorance

So, please

Figure out / before you ask

Me / that

No,

I don’t read Mandarin

And neither does my sister

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maré is a Diva, di ba?

Emily Porcincula Lawsin

We call her “Maré,”

As in “Comadré,”

Our sistahfriend.

Not “SIS-TER,” my friend,

But “sistah-friend,”

Said all-in-one.

She’s the womyn

Who defies us—

U – S –

Of A – stereotyped popularity,

Of a bubblin’, babblin’

B – I – T of a Chiquita

Banana yellow-face white bread

MEN-tality

In totality,

It ain’t no Wonder.

She crushes the violent patronizing of

Miss Saigon-like lyrics and

Flushes them down the toil—

It’s not enough.

So she conquers the street,

Telling wart-nosed cop that

“Under Municipal Code Number 2-6-5-6

we can wage a massive protest”

provided she keeps us on the move.

Maré is a diva.

So instead of walking us in traditional circles,

She sends us in lighting movin’ spirals,

Like tornadoes whipping unshielded storefronts.

She is a diva, di ba?

O-o

Maré is more than a

 

W – O – M – B – man.

 

With her saber-like tongue, gleaming brown skin and charcoal eyes,

She burns fire into

The souls of Pinoy folk,

Makin us look back

At womyn ledengs of the P.I:

(NOT including Imelda, the crooked show queen, of course)

so we study Maganda,

meaning “beautiful,”

who was stronger than Eve,

the first diva of all divas,

who killed a bird that mocked

at the bamboo of her man.

And Gabriela (Silang)

Of yesterday and today,

A true revolutionary,

The real, live Womyn Warrior,

Before Kingston made it fiction.

But Maré is more than a teacher, di ba?

She’s the Mother of all lands

That resist using our bodies

As bases of war.

She is like a book of ages

And time that can’t stand still

She is roaring river

Who don’t need to beg to be heard

She’s the strong waves of HERstory

Of our revelations,

Of our liberation.

Maré is a diva,

Yes.

 

My Pinay Nanay

Emily Porcincula Lawsin

My mother has many names:

            “mama” “Mommy” “Lola” “Grandma”

            “Tia” “Chang” “Manang” “Lisa” “Isang”

            But i just call her: my “Pinay Nanay”

 

My Pinay Nanay,

            She can speak

            Ifigao, Ilongo, Ilocano, Waray, Cebuano, Pampangueno,

            Spanish, Tagalog,

            AND English,

            Thanks to the three Pinoy men she married

            And the thousands of U.S. troops stationed in her island province.

 

My Pinay Nanay,

            She can whip up a dozen lumpias—vegetable and Shanghai

            Roll it/paste it/fry it/see you joke with it like a cigar

            Or boto/penis

            And whirl a boomerang bakya/slipper at you

            AllInOneBreath.

 

My Pinay Nanay,

            She can cook a feast for seven in as many minutes.

            Spread the table with

            Fresh mongo beans/seafood/pinakbet/chicken/beef/pork/adobo

            Plus towkwa/tofu/chicharon sizzling on the side/lasagna trays of pancit noodles:

            Bihon/Canton/

            Lug-lug/AND Malabon/vats of tomato-pasty menudo/machado/

            Peanut kate-kare/dinuguan (chocolate meat—ha ha!)/

            AND for desert: platters of steamed puto/suman/cutsinta cakes/baked   bibinka/biko/deepfriend cascarron/donut holes/

            Bowls of sweet ginataan

            With ping-pong-sized-bilo-bilo dumplims

            JustLikeYouLikeThem/and STILL ask you,

            “Are you hungry? You better eat!”