Walking Home

I found myself yesterday night, getting off the jeepney, still a full block away from the apartment. I had to drop by the small grocery store to buy some stuff - in this case, canned corned beef and tuna, a couple of eggs, a bag of corn chips, and a bottle of liniment. My brother left for Manila early that morning and I had to prepare dinner on my own. Of course, my mom always reminds me that canned goods are "unhealthy". But what the heck.

While walking home, there was this kid who was ahead of me. About two or three years old. One can tell that the skill of walking is still new to him and I kept on worrying whether he'd trip any time because of his quick but uncoordinated feet movement. His mom was walking alongside him, not really paying much attention to her son.

That was one of those rare moments when you're already tired, your defenses are down, it's almost half past nine pm, and the walk home was something you didn't have to concentrate on. Suddenly, probably realizing that there was somebody behind him, the kid turned his head to look at me, while his puppet-like feet movement still staggered on. I smiled at him, gave him a little wave, and mouthed "Hello."

He looked back at me with unchanging expression. He raised his hand to his mother's and walked on. A few meters away, they turned to the corner. I, on the other hand, walked farther on. I climbed the three floors of our building, reached my door, opened it with my key. I switched on the television.

At last, a different voice in the silence.