Ming

Ming died today. She lay lifeless in this side of the road. I could have looked at her closely but I’m headed for work. It’s already seven-thirty in the morning and the jeepney is still a ten-minute drive to the office. I never had a close encounter with Ming but almost everybody in this side of the town knows about her. She is extremely huge and has an odd built for a female. During meal time, she asks for food from anybody in the neighborhood and often times, she was rejected. But it’s alright; the garbage can was always the second and last option for her.

I bet Manang Flor will be happy to hear the news of her death. Ming enjoys watching Manang Flor when she’s making choco balls. She keeps on asking for a piece but Manang Flor won’t give in. She sells this choco balls at a nearby school. It’s her only source of income for the day and so she guards these carefully, after seeing Ming’s hungry look. So, if Ming had the chance, with a desperate move, she quickly grabs a choco ball then run away, leaving Manang Flor screaming curses at her. Some of them might have come true, now that she’s cold dead.

Ming was an orphan. Adopted by a rich family, she once lived in a big house but she always felt that there was no room for her. Mr. and Mrs. Cruz never loved her. Even the maids in the house never liked her. It was only Manuel, the eldest son, who truly cared for her. After Sir Manuel’s work, he would spend time with her. He would talk about a lot of things to her. Although she never understood anything that he said, she just enjoyed the thought of being with someone, the feeling that she is needed and she belonged to this house. One night, Sir Manuel came home with a letter in his hand and an unexplainable expression in his face. Ming would later know that this feeling is called happiness. Sir Manuel was accepted to a multi-national company based in Hong Kong. He would then leave next month. There was not much of a goodbye when Sir Manuel left the house. She just recalled him talking to his younger brother while pointing to her direction. She never knew what he meant by that. All she knew was that the house grew darker and colder for Ming when Sir Manuel left.

One day, while she was sitting near the garden, she saw a stranger. He said he lives two blocks away from theirs. He was scruffy, the kind that didn’t bother to take a bath. His name is Bruce. He was a good talker. Ming was unaware that she is already enjoying their first meeting. Unlike Sir Manuel, Ming was able to understand everything that Bruce is saying. She realized that she can talk to Bruce about almost anything that she wanted to talk about and she felt the same for Bruce too. Every morning became an exciting part of the day for Ming. She meets Bruce on that same spot in the garden and sometimes hide near the gate so that the maids won’t see them. It was always the same for almost a month, Bruce would show up in the garden and at times he would bring food for Ming, and they would talk about anything under the sun and Ming now understood the feeling of Sir Manuel when he went home with a letter in his hand. She is happy. She is happy with Bruce around.

In one of their talks, Bruce offered her to leave the big house. He is offering her her freedom, a life away from this cold house. She answered a big yes to him and so they climbed the high walls of the house by nightfall. Ming didn’t bring anything with her. She never owned anything from that house.

In one of their talks, Bruce told her that he owned a space under a bridge. They will be protected from rain and cold there.

One stormy night, she woke up to the fight of the residents near the bridge. She realized that Bruce was no longer lying beside her. She walked in the rain and looked for him but he was nowhere to be found.

Ming didn’t bother to ask her neighbors, she just kept on looking for Bruce. It went on for days and months until Ming finally gave up. She didn’t go back to the bridge (it will only remind her of Bruce) and she had no plans of returning to the Cruzes either. She lived in the streets and died in these same streets.

I don’t know if it was a ten-wheeler truck, a van or a jeepney killed her. They say Ming has nine lives, I can’t help but think how many death experiences must she had encountered in her entire life.

Ming died today. She lay lifeless in this side of the road. Her gray fur turning to streaks of crimson.