“What is wrong with you?” Ferdinand exclaimed, coming in through the door that day as he slammed it open for Lina. The late afternoon reeked of coffee that had been leftover from the breakfast they had earlier and the scent of a rainstorm that was going to fall at any time.
“It’s disciplinary action!” Lina told him, following close behind as she shut the door behind her. She dropped her handbag, which at the end of the day always weighs like a ton of bricks, and slung her coat on the rack.
Lina was a college student and assistant teacher in the early childhood department in the Catholic School Ferdinand helped run as a tertiary brother. He was just reprimanding her, as a part of the administration, about the way she would handle her less rowdy students. Lina was an effective teacher in the same way Mussolini was an effective dictator.
“Hello you two.” Chloe greeted them, setting her book down along with her coffee. “What’s this about Lina and disciplinary action?” she asked them. Chloe was a musician and studied Physics at the university owned and managed by the same order Ferdinand was in. Though she didn't attend or work in the school Lina and Ferdinand where in, she was still interested in the bickering the two would share at the end of almost every single day. You couldn’t blame her. It was like watching two dogs fight on the street. Its awful, but you can’t look away. And you definitely wouldn’t want tos top it.
“She whipped one of the kindergarteners!” Ferdinand ratted out on her.
“Oh my…” Chloe reacted, turning her head and condemning look to Lina.
“I did not whip, Ferdinand.” Lina clarified, looking back at Chloe to assure her of her own innocence. “It was just a soft strike…” she tried to justify herself.
“She made a whip out of those candy-colored yogurt sticks!” Ferdinand said.. “Every time the kids would act up, she would hit them and take their yogurt sticks.” Ferdinand continued, motioning how the monstrously delicious device would have worked with his hand.
“Oh, come one, it’s not that bad…” Lina defended, placing her handbag by the sofa.
“At the end of the day she ended up with a cat-o-thirty-two tails made of yogurt sticks and a lawsuit.” Ferdinand squealed, throwing his own bag on the table nearby.
“I’ll have you know the complaint never had the chance to become a lawsuit.” Lina replied, taking off her earrings.
“Yeah, that’s because the marks on the children’s backs never had the chance to show…” Ferdinand quipped.
Lina Pascalli and Chloe le Blaise were college students, Chloe was taking Physics and made ends meet by performing at the Gaslight, a nightlife café. Lina on the other hand, was taking Basic and Primary Education and worked for her daily bread as an assistant teacher. Ferdinand was orphaned as a child, and became a tertiary for the Redemptorists at seven. He is currently taking up Divine Theology and Philosophy, serving as an instructor during the night and the lay brother cook at day. By either the power of divine providence or whatever the hell the opposite of that is, they all cant seem to escape each other.
How two young women came to live with a religious brother in the first place was the result of a city filled to the brim with young hopefuls like them- choking up the real estate market for a place to stay, a dyslexic pedicab driver, and the Intercession of Our Mother Mary.
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“Uncle!” Lina hailed for a pedicab. The clunky motorcycle rickshaw made a U-turn and parked in front of her. Lina and another girl, who she would soon know as Chloe, both got in.
“Here’s the address, uncle.” Lina said, giving a small piece of paper to the driver. She looked up with a slight hesitancy after seeing the nonagenarian behind the bar. He fumbled for his glasses and tried to read the address off of what Lina would soon regret to be an unnecessarily small piece of paper. He soon stomped on the shifter and started off, the huffing and puffing of an an engine and driver both past their prime would provide the background noise for the rest of the trip.
“Excuse me…” a petite squeak emanated from Lina’s left side. “Do you know where this is…”
“Ahh…” Lina hesitated to answer her. “I’m...I’m not from here…” she said to the then stranger’s dismay.
The motorcycle rickshaw had its carriage wielded to the side of its chassis with one wheel: the standard design for most pedicabs. Inside there was a window for the driver and the passengers. Above the passengers window was a vaguely painted sign that’s said “Left *invert symbol* Right”. Lina had no idea what this meant, even if she actually did notice the sign. She was a stranger in a strange land. She was entering college off of the initiative and support of her father, who moved to the Philippines for business. Whatever business Italian investors get into is none of ours, but there she was.
“Oh…” the girl drowned. “Out of town, too?” she asked, picking up her mood.
“Yeah.” Lina responded charismatically. “I’m here for uni.”
“So am I!'' the girl responded. “St. Ligouri?” the girl asked, pertaining to the university rather than the saint himself.
“Yeah!” Lina said optimistically, followed by a sigh of relief.
“Oh wow! Me too!” the stranger said in response, with more or less equal enthusiasm.
“Oh my gosh, you don’t realize how much of a relief it is to meet somebody out of campus this early.” Lina expressed. “Saves all the awkwardness of like- actually finding friends on campus.” she went on. She continued this and turned her head to the miniscule girl next to her. “Hey, I’m Lina. Lina Pascalli.” she introduced herself to her.
“I’m Chloe de Blaise.” the girl introduced herself. “Nice to meet you.”
“Just to be sure: you’re in college, right?” Lina said. The two of them shared a chuckle on the well-meant joke. After their humors subsided though, Lina went to apologize. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a trail of faint laughter.
“It’s alright, I get that a lot.” Chloe forgave. “Besides, guys like the petite aesthetic.” she quipped, flicking her pinkwn hair and wielding a rose-tinted smirk.
“Ohhh!” Lina reacted. “How many guys?” Lina asked.
“None yet!” Chloe said, slightly offended by the assumption. “What do you take me for?”
“No, no, not that.” Lina clarified. “I mean how many guys are under your leash? You know, how many fish are on the line?” she asked.
“None yet. The secret is not to let them bite…” she said. They shared another chuckle in between stories until they got to their destination.
While the girls were unaware that they were heading towards a different street, Ferdinand was busy doing the morning chores. His morning routine was to get everything done before he would sit down for breakfast. He did exactly that and more: pouring kerosene down the toilet and setting it ablaze to disinfect it for good and send a message to any rats that might want to climb out. Mopping the immaculately clean floor right after sweeping it. Cleaning the windows and waxing the floor boards after they had dried sufficiently. This compulsion to clean stems from the fact that for a presbytery wherein priests usually lodge in, there was an unusual lack of priests. The Nepomucene complex was once part of a seminary that would later be sold, destroyed, rebuilt, and bought again. It was meant to be a house where priests would live in and Ferdinand was stationed there to cook and clean for them. So far- still no priests.
It was during breakfast where the oddities of Ferdinand’s morning truly shine. From the breadbox, he would tear off a chunk of bread that was hard enough to sand wood corners off with. Along with that, he would take the slab of pork drying from the nail on the low wooden rafter, take a ladleful of bitter chocolate, sit down with his ‘brick’ phone that he would set to his favorite radio station and provide commentary on the things he had heard that day. He lived at best like a grandfather who refuses to even accept a TV his children got for him, and at worst like a hermit at the edge of society. He knows how to use the internet- but he takes pride in pretending he doesnt.
“Notre Dame Fire caused by faulty ‘electric wiring’, says authorities.” the headline balred. “Cover up.” Ferdinand said through a mouthful.
“Cardi-B admits to drugging and robbing men” another headline flew. “I knew that shady skank was no good…” he’d follow up.
“Vatican sex scandal!” the radio proclaimed. “Cardi-B should get herself a job in the Vatican:” Ferdinand commented. “drugging cardinals!”
As he enjoys dunking his bread into the mug of boiling bitter dark- chocolate and tearing chunks of salty pork with his teeth, he hears a knock at the door. Who could it be at this hour? The birds aren't chirping and the neighbors have barely woken up to start screaming at each other yet. He gets up, swallows the bread, spits out an unchewed half of the salted pork and makes a move for the door.
“Mother Agatha!” Ferdinand said upon revealing the old nun at the other end of the door. He hurriedly embraced her like a small child running up to their grandmother. “What brings you here?”
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Ferdinand.” She hugged back, squeezing his face. “I’m here to discuss something very important to you, my son.” She said, letting herself in.
“Oh, Mother Agatha, you walked such a distance,” Ferdinand said. “And so early in the morning too- please, have some breakfast.”
“I didn’t walk all the way, Ferdie.” Mother Agatha reassured him. “I just stepped a few meters outside the convent and a nice gentleman offered to give me a ride; granted, who wouldn’t offer a ride to a nun?”
“Ideally, no one,” Ferdinand worriedly commented on the unmeant innuendo. Mother Agatha was quick to give him a smack on the face for it.
“Would you at least like some breakfast?” Ferdinand offered.
“I’ll pass…” Mother Agatha declined. “Although he didn’t say, my doctor would probably advise against me eating old pork.” She said, pointing at the slab of swine on the table, which by that point had already turned pale with salt.
Before they could truly discuss the matters Mother Agatha wanted to bring up, the doorbell rang once again.Who the hell could it be this time? Ferdinand, with a sour expression on his face this time, went to the door a second time to see who it was. There at the door, she saw a tall, slender woman with dark layered hair and a short, stout woman with curly hair that was dyed pink.
“What do you want?” Ferdinand asked sternly, standing over them.
“Is this 24 Luna Avenue?” Lina asked.
“24 Luna Avenue?” Ferdinand said in an impatient manner. “That’s the other side of town, this 212 Aguinaldo Street.”
“I think our pedicab driver made a mistake…” Chloe pointed out to Lina.
“And I think he’s about to make another one,” Ferdinand said as he watched the old man speed off into the horizon. “Hey! You left these two!” he called out for it to no avail.
“Who’s at the door, Ferdie?” Mother Agatha asked from the back
“No one!” He ringed back. “Go away” he said as he turned to the two girls.
“Aww, was that your mom?” Lina asked.
“Technically,” Ferdinand replied. “Now leave.”
“Oh, Ferdie…” Mother Agatha rang from behind him. “That is not a good way of treating guests.”
Ferdinand looked at the old nun, who found and mothered him since childhood and then turned to the two women, who he knew nothing of. It would be easier to listen to the nun than make it to his gun rack in time. Ferdinand stepped aside, opened the door wide and let them in.
“If you’re coming here to apply as borders, we don’t have the room,” he told them.
“That’s what I was here to talk to you about...” Mother Agatha said. “See, the superior had decided to convert this old presbytery into a boarding house.”
“What are you talking about, Mother?” Ferdinand raised his voice. “I thought you promised to tell me when the presbytery would go under, I said I could always work…”
“It’s not that…” Mother Agatha interrupted him. “It’s just the parish is too far away for this presbytery to be necessary, so it’s either we raise its equity or tear it down…” she said. “Don’t worry, you can still live here. In fact, the superior would like to see you tomorrow for your position as custodian.”
“Sorry, what.” Ferdinand bugged.
“I’ll explain later,” Mother Agatha said. “So as of now, why don’t you get these ladies some breakfast, hmm?”
