The Rain of Hope by Doris Ogdoc

This is a revised version of the short story I made months ago. "The Rain of Hope, is the entry I passed for the Mugna Creative Writing Workshop which I participated yesterday. The panel consisted of Dr. Angel Pesirla, Dr. Rey Caturza, Dr. Yulysses Aparece, and Sir Januar Yap. I was delighted with their feedback. Anyway, here's the copy of my short story, "The Rain of Hope":

The Rain of Hope

A Short Story by

Doris Ogdoc

“ HUY! PAHAWA NGARI!”, the ice water seller in Colon Street yelled and shooed the young boy with a long, dirty shirt, messy hair, and with a smell that implied he had not taken a bath for weeks...or months. Lino could not help himself. He had been lustfully eying the one peso ice water for hours under the intense, scorching heat of the sun. Trying to gulp the last ounce of saliva from his dry mouth, Lino stepped out and bowed his head- He felt the intense thirst. So intense that he had thought he would die.

He chose to be there in Sto. Niño de Basilica church where hundreds or even thousands of devotees would come to church to pray. He might convince them to be charitable enough to give him just one peso. Just one peso, he thought, and he could fill himself with that cold, satisfying, plastic-packed water of Manang Karmen.

He went to a family first. He moved towards the father who was wearing a blue polo shirt and signature slacks. Opening his palms and presenting it to the father, he said, “ Siiir, para lang palit ug ayswutir, Sir. Uhaw na ka-ayu ku”. The man did not even look at him, and said “ Dung, wala kuy sinsiyu” “Sssiiir, sige na sssiiir...” And the man left with his family. He took his daughter to a store nearby that was selling a fancy pencil, with long, pink feathers attached to it. “ Ganahan ka ani? “, the father asked. “O!”, his daughter replied. “ Pila? “. “ Tag traynta”.”Sige,tiga-i kug usa”. Lino felt betrayed. The man did not care if he died, but he cared giving his daughter a pencil worthy of display. Lino bowed his head again, and walked.

Thankfully, he had his “tsinelas” ( slippers ) to wear as he was wandering the vicinity of Colon Street. Or else, He might have burned the soles of his feet. It has not rained for about three months now in Cebu City. They said there was Global Warming. But, a lot thought the city has been cursed by God. It was unusual that no rain would occur for a three month time now. It has been on the news. Cebu City has been cursed by God. Lino wondered if, he, too was part of God’s curse.

One religious person often visited them, the street children. There have been lots of preachers roaming around Cebu. Some of them could be seen with big microphones in front of The Gaisano mall. Their constituents would ask for money or offering to the people. Yet, Trisha, that was her name, would give them bread once in awhile, tell them stories about Jesus. Lino was not actually interested of hearing them. He was too tired to care about other people and their stories. He would go to Trisha for her bread.

They haven’t seen her for weeks now. “Naa gyud ni tunglo ang syudad. Naa gyud!”, Lino muttered. Could God abandon him? “ Pag-ampu, Lino, ug madawat nimu ang mga tubag sa imung mga ampu”, Trisha had said. Ampu? Ug para unsa pah? Kadaghan tawu ga ampu sa simbahan, ah! Naglagut ku nila. Di man gani sila kahatag ug pisu!

Anyway, out of desperation, he closed his eyes, and said, “ Ginu-u, hatagi ku ug pisu para makapalit kug ayswutir ngara ( pointing to Manang Karmen’s store ).”

He opened his eyes and saw a white man—a foreigner with a Filipina who had long, black hair with him. He looked at him and begged. The man smiled, took his purse, and gave him a five-peso coin! He jumped for joy inside. “Diyus ko! Salamat!” ...But his joy only lasted for a short time.

Marko saw him while the white man was giving him the money. Marko was much older and bigger. He took Lino’s hand and tried to ask him the coin. “Dili!”, Lino screamed. He dragged him to a place near Magellan’s Cross. Marko pushed Lino hard that he was knocked down immediately. His frame was so thin that a slight push could bring him down so easily. He firmly clutched the five peso coin inside his small, fragile hand. The tight of his fist’s hold could break a glass. “ Ihatag ang kwarta kun dili ka gustu mamatay!”, Marko threatened him. He was not easy to give up. For the second time, he screamed, “ D-I-L-I!”.

Marko started kicking him on the butt, on the legs ,on the body. He could not move. His whole body ached. Marko then punched him on the face and tried to take hold of the five-peso coin from his palm. He punched him so hard on the face that it almost left Lino unconscious. Marko took the five-peso coin.

Lino sobbed.

His cry was not loud. He was thirsty, tired, hurt, bruised, and was under the heat of the sun that burned his body, and fried his bones. He really felt that it was better for him to die than suffer like that. He tried to lick his dry and wounded lip, and tasted blood. He could not close his eyes. Marko punched it so hard that he felt it was swelling immediately. He sobbed. God must have forgotten him.

The clouds started to cover the sun as “Putut” approached Lino. No one really called him by his real name. And No one knew his real name. Everybody called him Putut because he was so tiny...and ugly. And the dirtiest among them all. He had no shirt on nor a pair of Tsinelas. He was so tiny, dirty, shirtless, and the one who always felt cheery, showing shamelessly his toothless smile.

Last week, Potot’s mother died. They said she died in her sleep. Putut would say “ Gikuha na siya ni Jesus para ngadto sa langit “.

“Wala'y gutum ngadtu”, Trisha would describe heaven. Lino felt envious of Putut’s mother.

“Pahawa, Putut!”, Lino scowled at him. He hated his presence especially that he was in a state like that. Potot searched for the place if anyone was looking around. He placed something in Lino’s hand. He felt it. He knew what it was without even looking at it. That has been the thing people would usually give him except that day. “Nganu imu man nin'g gihatag?!” Actually, he felt shameful... Dili mahimu nga ihatag ni Putut ang pisu nga ma-u nala'y nabilin niya!

“Ingun si Nanay, Hatag, UG daghan paka'g mabatun nga grasya”. Gi-atay, Lino thought. Nganu ingun ana kadaku nga pagtu-u? He did not understand that. But, he was convinced that Putut really believed that.

He stood up, walked to Manang Karmen’s store with the one peso Putut had given him in his hand.

Then the clouds darkened, the atmosphere slowly took away the heat that has enveloped the city. The blaze shifted to dying embers. Droplets of heavy rain fell.

Lino drank the ice water thirstily. He allowed the rain to caress his head then to his arms and flood unto the soles of his feet. The coolness of every single drop soothes the pain of the sun that has smoldered his body unto his soul. It drenched him and satisfied his thirst for that rain that he thought had left them. He looked up. His eyes glowed, and a smile was drawn on his entire countenance.