The Runaway

Your palms sweat as you leave the house, doubts lingering in your head with the same questions you repeat to yourself.

Did I wake anyone? Did I bring everything? Will I regret this?

These questions play in your head as you walk further and further and further away while reminding yourself that everything will be fine. At least you hope. Fortunately, the neighbors are all conveniently in their beds and not doing any midnight tasks or whatever.

Moments pass as you get closer to the station and periodically check if you’ve been followed and pretty soon, there it is: the bus station harboring that one bus that’ll take you to San Lorenzo.

This is it, you think. Suitcase in hand, you finally approach the station and board the bus. Seconds feel like hours as you wait and you think how worth it it may seem to escape the dreaded household you shared with apathetic siblings and parents you’d describe to your friends as “egotistical fascists that lack empathy.”

Finally, every other passenger is onboard and the bus heads north. You feel yourself drift off a little calmer thinking of what the new future may hold.

Some time passes and you’re at the last stop. You immediately get off and bask in what little sun has risen at this point and the reality hits you that you made it this far. You remember you’ve never been to a large thriving city like San Lorenzo and all you have to work with is your uncle’s vague address: Blueridge Street, White Plain Subdivision.

Here you are in the city center with only a few vehicles on the road and just about a dozen people already up or coming home from graveyard shifts. You take out your phone to see how far you are. Damn. About 5 and a half kilometers from the place.

You look around for somewhere to ride and double check how much cash you have on you. 120 pesos. You sigh in despair as you realize you can’t afford a taxi all the way there. No choice, you have to take a motorcycle pedicab. And who knows how far they’re willing to go, and how much they’ll charge?

You wait a good 10 minutes for one at this time. Luckily the sun has risen a little and the city center gradually fills with more people and vehicles. A pedicab passes by with only the only available seat at the back of the driver. The driver sees you waiting and brakes near you. You approach the driver.

“White Plain Subdivision?” you ask.

“OK, 100 pesos,” he replies.

You decide to take a chance as you help tie your suitcase to the top and back ride behind the driver set off. You feel the wind in your hair and form a little grin in relief that you’re finally getting closer to your destination. Halfway there, a passenger gets off. Finally, you think. You transfer to the now vacant seat but you can’t help but miss the breeze a little.

Time passes and you’re at the entrance of the subdivision. The travel took about 45 minutes and it all seemed to pass by so fast. You ask the driver if he’s familiar with the area and if he can drive you in. Good news: he has taken passengers in before. Bad news: he’ll charge an extra 50 for it.

You groan silently as you pay your fare. Oh well, looks like you’ll have to walk through the maze that is White Plain Subdivision. You check the time. It’s well past 7:30.

You approach the guard house at the entrance and gulp as you face one of the guards. Here goes nothing.

“Excuse me. Good morning. Do you know where Blueridge Street is?” you ask nervously.

“It’s quite far from here; it’s left of the clubhouse in the middle of the subdivision,” he says.

He retrieves a map and points to the entrance. You take out your phone to take notes.

“So from here, you walk straight. Take the third left. Keep going until you reach the park, and then turn right. Keep going and then you’ll see the club house,” explains the guard.

“Thank you. I’ll be on my way,” you say.

Phone in hand, you follow the directions. Eventually, beads of sweat start to roll down your face. Damn, you think, the streets here are long as hell. Occasionally, you sit down on the sidewalk to catch your breath. Pretty soon, you see it: the clubhouse, which is a lot taller and better constructed than any house in your old neighborhood.

You take the next left and see a line of about a dozen houses and you’re not sure which one is your uncle’s. You have an idea. A crazy one but an idea nonetheless. Do you really wanna do it though? Screw it, you’ve gotten this far.

You sweat even more and your heart beats much faster as you approach the gate of one of the houses. You ring the bell. After a while, a middle aged woman appears.

“Hello. Can I help you?” she asks. She lets out a yawn. Oh God, you think, did I wake her? You try to talk as your palms start to sweat.

“Is this the residence of Alex Magdangal?” you ask.

“Nope. Never heard of them.”

She heads back inside. You thank her but she seems to ignore you. Oh well, next house. Luckily the homeowner has just left the gate. You approach him.

“Hi sir. Sorry to disturb you but is this the residence of Alex Magdangal?” you ask.

“Oh I think I’ve met him. We barely talk though. I think he’s in the 3^rd or 4^th house from here,” he says.

You thank him and head on your way. You’re at the 3^rd house and you sit down to collect your thoughts. After calming yourself, you ring the bell. A kid answers.

“Hi there. Is this the residence of Alex Magdangal?” you ask.

“Ah, Uncle Alex. He’s our neighbor. Why are you looking for him?” he asks back.

“I’m his nephew,” you respond.

“I see. Uncle Alex loves company. I’m sure he’ll say he misses you.”

“Oh, we’ve never met.”

“Ah OK. Don’t worry; Uncle Alex is very friendly. He likes everyone.”

“Thanks for the assurance kid. Wish me luck”

“Good luck.”

The kid heads back inside as you go to the next house. The little boy’s assurance makes you smile a little. This is it, you think, someone that maybe has a heart. You still have your doubts but there’s only one way to find out. You ring the bell. An elderly lady answers.

“Hi. Good morning. Is this the residence of Alex Magdangal?” you ask.

“Yes. I’m his wife. Do you need something?” she asks back.

“I’m Sam Magdangal. My parents are George and Amber Magdangal. I think my dad and Uncle Alex are cousins.”

“Hmm. OK. Come on in. My husband is still in the shower.”

She lets you in and you enter the house. You see the living room and in it are a glass coffee table strewn with decorative paperweights and magazines, a black couch, a shiny wooden cabinet with a flat screen TV perched on top, and pictures adorning the walls. This looks fancier and more well furnished than your old house. You take a seat.

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Olivia,” the lady says as she closes the door behind her. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes please,” you sheepishly reply.

She heads to the kitchen and you hear footsteps from upstairs. You look to the stairs and you see an elderly man going down.

“Good morning. Are you Alex Magdangal?” you ask him.

“Yes, that’s me,” he says.” Are you a friend of Olivia’s?”

“I hope we can be. She just met and she let me in. So sorry to just barge in like this. I’m Sam Magdangal. I think you and my dad are cousins?”

“Is your dad Jack Magdangal?”

“No. That’s my other uncle. My dad is George.”

“Oh I see. We were never really close.”

Aunt Olivia enters the room carrying a tray with 3 mugs of coffee. She hands one to you and Uncle Alex and plants a kiss on his cheek.

“I see you’ve met,” she says.

He nods. Then he turns to you. “So what brings you here?” asks Uncle Alex.

“It’s kind of a not so funny story,” you say. “I’m so sorry to burden you. I actually ran away from home. I hate living with my immediate family. Please don’t tell them. It’s that bad.”

Uncle Alex and Aunt Olivia look at each other, and then back at you. “How bad was it?” he asks.

You try to figure out exactly how to explain to them the kind of people your family are. You think about that time you had that awful break-up and your older siblings told you to get over it and the time you fought with your younger siblings because they laughed at you for crying during the ending of Grave of the Fireflies. You recall how your parents beat everyone involved in the fight and that time they beat you and yelled at you in front of all the neighbors for accidentally dropping the laundry basket and getting the laundry messed up. A tear rolls down your eye.

“My siblings are pretty apathetic; they don’t care much about how I feel,” you blurt out. “My parents are even worse. They beat me for the smallest things. My thumb is dislocated because of a beating. All everyone in the family knows is how to survive but not how to empathize. I hope I’m not being too imposing but I came all this way from Tondo hoping I could find a place to stay. I’m so, so sorry for asking that.”

Uncle Alex and Aunt Olivia look at each other again and back at you. “I didn’t know they could be that bad,” Uncle Alex says. “But then again, I hardly hear from your dad. Look, I’m very accommodating and you’re in luck. My eldest son Percy is off at UP Diliman so you can stay in his room for a while. But he comes home for Christmas in 2 weeks so we need to work something out by then. I won’t tell your parents.”

A smile forms on your face and you wrap your arms around Uncle Alex and Aunt Olivia in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much!” you say. “I’ll find a job so I can help out here. Maybe I can sleep on the couch when Percy arrives?”

“We’ll think abvout that,” Uncle Alex says.

The next few days go by quickly and things are as well as you thought they’d be. You open up from time to time. You learn Uncle Alex’s an insurance agent and Aunt Olivia’s a marketing officer.

You play basketball occasionally with their daughter Penny as you get to know her. You talk about her studies and how she wants to be a doctor when she grows up. You even find yourself ranting to her even if she’s too young to understand.

After some time job hunting, you land a job at McDonald’s and you wait until your next salary to give them your share of expenses. While waiting you have casual conversations about your plans and theirs.

You even join the family in a video chat with Percy and explain the whole thing. He laughs the fact you’re sleeping temporarily in his room off and says he’s excited to meet you. You learn he’s majoring in Geology there and planning his internship at a mining company.

You check your phone periodically every day wondering if your family missed you but you don’t get a single text from them. Only from concerned friends and teachers wondering where you are and explaining to them you’ve run away and temporarily dropped out.

Pretty soon, Percy arrives with an unexpected guest: your older brother Seth. Both your eyes go wide in shock as you see each other.

“You were here the whole time?” Seth asks.

“Yeah. What about you? What are you doing here?” you ask back.

“I came to visit.”

“Did anyone look for me?”

“Not really. We were just a little upset that you didn’t say

anything.”

You stare in disbelief; the fact that you weren’t even missed makes you unsure what to feel.

“So now that we’ve reunited, you wanna come home? Seth asks. “You can’t keep imposing on them.”

You freeze as you continue staring in disbelief, unsure of what to answer. Then Aunt Olivia approaches you.

“You can stay as long as you want,” she says clearly reading the room.

Percy also looks concerned having been told everything. “You can sleep on the floor of my room,“ he says.

Seth looks confused for a moment. Finally, you speak.

“I think I’m good here,” you say. “Tell Mom and Dad.”

“Eh. Suit yourself,” Seth says. His indifference makes your stomach churn but you’re glad to know where you stand.

After an uneventful visit, Seth goes home and you think about the indifference of your original family and cheer yourself up with thoughts of living with your new one. Night falls and the thoughts overwhelm you as you try to sleep on the floor near Percy’s bed. You can feel your eyes well up.