SAVOR

Gelo closed his eyes. He forced himself not to rush but to chew slowly and methodically. That was the only way to truly savor each bite, each morsel. Immediately, he was struck by the crisp, acidic, tangy, sourness of the tart green mango, which paired perfectly with the sweet, savory, spiciness of the Bagoong—a krill or shrimp paste with salt and spices. The combination of flavors was surprising, addictive, and delicious. He had never tasted anything like it. As an adventurous eater, he had often experimented with various types of food. He had sampled and tried just about everything. Nothing compared to the tantalizing delight of green mango with bagoong.

The symphony of tastes that swirled in Gelo’s mouth conjured up a memory of when he was a boy. He sat across a kitchen table from his grandmother, Mama Joe. She was so much younger and stronger back then, so full of life. Mama Joe pushed a plate of sliced green mangoes with a side dish of bagoong before him and urged him to try. With feigned interest, he grabbed a slice of green mango and prepared to dip it into the bagoong. The scent that emanated from the bagoong, however, a pungent odor that brought to mind sweaty old gym socks, made him pause. Something that smelled that foul and putrid could not possibly taste good. Moreover, green mangoes were so bitter. He was about to drop the slice of mango back onto the plate when he saw the pleading look on his grandmother’s face. For some reason, she wanted him to try it so badly. Reluctantly he dipped the slice of bitter fruit into the dollop of smelly paste and slowly guided it towards his open mouth. All the while Mama Joe’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. She playfully clapped her hands and cheered him on as he tentatively went to take his first bite, but he just couldn’t do it. The odor from the bagoong was downright repulsive, and he remembered how sour things made his face pucker. Young Gelo crinkled his nose with disgust then dropped the slice of mango back onto the plate.

Mama Joe instantly stopped cheering, causing Gelo to bow his head in shame. He feared he had disappointed her, and he hated disappointing her. To his relief, Mama Joe smiled warmly back at him. “Okay lang, nino,” she said lovingly. “It’s not for everyone.” Without another word, Mama Joe picked up the slice of mango, he dipped in bagoong, and happily ate it. Although she didn't say it, Gelo could tell that she was disappointed. Green mango with bagoong was her favorite delicacy in the whole world, and she wanted to share that joy with him.

With his eyes still closed, Gelo reached for another slice of green mango, but his fingers could find none. He looked down and realized that only a small pool of mango juice and a smeared layer of bagoong remained on his paper plate. A crooked smile began to spread across Gelo’s face. Mama Joe would be pleased. He finally tasted her favorite dish. Now he understood why she enjoyed it so much.

How he missed his grandmother. During most of his childhood, his Father was abroad carving out a better life for their family, and his Mother worked 2 to 3 jobs to support him and his brother. Mama Joe was the one who took cared of him throughout his tender years. She was always there to pick him up when he fell, to wipe away his tears, and to shield him from harm. Life was hard, very hard. They didn’t have much, but he had a happy childhood. Gelo had Mama Joe to thank for that. She did everything she could to ensure his happiness.

The smile on Gelo’s face suddenly faded. What would Mama Joe think of him now? The man he had become. Aggressively, he pushed himself away from the table and stepped into the washroom area of his small concrete cell. The area was nothing more than a toilet, a sink, and a tiny mirror. There was no privacy. He had lost that privilege long ago. While hunched over the sink, he gazed into the mirror. What he saw was the face of a wayward man, a hard man who lived a turbulent, misguided life. People often looked upon him with fear and loathing, and rightly so. Lambs knew a predator when they saw one. Money was his God. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the all mighty dollar, nothing. This relentless pursuit for wealth had transformed him into a villain; it was a role he embraced and played to perfection. Remembering that innocent boy from his youth reminded him just how far he had fallen from grace. So many bad choices he made along the way had led him down the dark rabbit hole towards the man he was today—a monster.

With a huff, he pulled his gaze away from the mirror. What was he doing? It was a waste of time and energy to contemplate the whys, the what ifs, and what could have been. He cast his die long ago. There was no point whining about it now. “I yam what I yam,” he whispered to himself, imitating one of his favorite boyhood cartoon characters, Popeye.

A crooked smile appeared on Gelo’s face once more. The smile morphed into a light chuckle before it broke into a hearty belly laugh that filled his small concrete cell. It was a complete mystery to him why he was laughing and carrying-on like a fool, but frankly, it didn’t matter. He only knew that it felt good, liberating in fact, to let go and laugh aloud.

On impulse, he reached out and snatched the paper plate from the small metal table. “For you, Mama Joe,” he thought to himself as he licked the plate clean and laughed as he did so. Gelo didn’t care if anyone saw him; he didn’t care if anyone was watching him. They were always watching. Let them. Let them watch the animal as he devoured his meal. He could have had anything his heart desired—steak, lobster, pizza, burger and fries, champagne and caviar, anything. This simple dish was what he needed: a meal that was more than just a meal. It was his perfect meal, his perfect last meal, and he was going to enjoy every ounce, drop, and molecule of it.

When he was done, Gelo crumpled up the paper plate and basketball threw it into a tiny waste can. SWISH. “Did you see that, five-o?” he asked a camera mounted on the high corner of his cell. “Three points, hoorah!”

With a goofy smile, he plopped himself down onto his bunk and stared up at the ceiling. There was nothing to do now but wait. In a little while, guards will usher him to a holding cell to wait for a phone call that will never come. A priest will arrive, shortly after, to hear his confession and give him the Last Rites. Inevitably, Gelo will find himself in, what the inmates call, the exit chamber. It will be the last room he will ever see. Until then, he had plenty of time: time to savor the sweet, salty, and sour after taste that lingered in his mouth; time to savor happy memories of lost love ones; and time to savor life.