Reunion (Chapter 1)

April 3, 2019, Friday

9:53 PM

"Finally, the day's done. I'm going to clean the house again." Gabriel mutters as he walks outside. He passes by the ribbons he cut since Monday. Gabriel looks back as if the restaurant's lights flicker again. It is still bright, too bright, he thinks.

He unfolds his umbrella from his bag pocket as the coin-heavy shower hopefully spares his cover. He goes down a few steps on his left and onto the standby gutter to wait for a ride. Shivering from both his nerves and the cold, he hesitates to raise his arm to an inch, let alone speak. 

The drivers' unawareness and blind spots, and the night can't see him. The restaurant's lights at a distance don't help.

9:58 PM

His pastry sous-chef accompanies him to get a taxi, to go along his chef's route. Gabriel then waves to his sous-chef with a slight grin, receives a mutual agreement. His house screams from the thundering copper showers against his aluminum roof. He brings his keys out, unlocks the house, and goes inside.

10:20 PM

He dries off his jacket, boots, and umbrella (as he places it in an umbrella socket). He also dries his wet bag, which only includes his tools, land and business papers (in a plastic envelope), folded clothes, and miscellaneous items.

He changes clothes from a jacket over a white polo over a modest T-shirt (overlap due to low temperatures) to another plain T-shirt apron. He brings out his cleaning materials and tools and starts to bring out all items in his house.

After cleaning the doorknob (7 times) and polishing his door (3 times), he starts at the living room. He scrubs the TV (4 times, unplugged), tables (2 times), chairs (5 times), two electric fans (2 times, unplugged and dissected), and other furniture with a semi-rough damp cloth with soap.

He then goes to the kitchen and all items exactly nine times with meager soap distribution. He moves to his bedroom and his guest bedroom. Then, he cleans the bed and pillow sheets and replaces them anew while the cleaned is drying. Then, he went to his pastry studio and its bookshelves. Its contents are organized in size and alphabetical order, respectfully.

10:38 PM

He then goes to his storage house to organize every shelf, top to bottom. It includes his photos from his culinary school, his trophies from various competitions, critics, and other miscellaneous awards. There was never too little time and too much energy for him to organize every single cavity of his house. Everything functional, he keeps. Anything defaults from it, he throws out.

He then goes to his shelf from his farther past. His elementary items remind him of his first-joined local bread-cooking contests. To his high school experimentations, severe practice, and apprenticeship. Speaking of high school, he thought, he immediately saw the yearbook of his graduation. The front cover says, "Bagong Malaya High School Batch 2009".

He takes the book, opens it out of curiosity. Then, he remembers again despite cleaning the storage multiple times and seeing the book often after a few thoughts. He remembered the vow of his classmates while he's in the back of his classroom at the year's conclusion.

The back was particularly noisy in the back because of the adjacent class section. The batch 2009 vowed on the last day to meet once again in exactly ten years onto the exact date and hour. April 4, 2019, 11:24 AM

He never joined the agreement as he sketched countless cake and pastry designs. It comes with occasional front buildings sketches and random names. Others join him unknowingly. With a few misfits who didn't care, three students who failed the whole school year. And his friend, who didn't bother to talk nor stood up. She only said, in his memory, "That'll be one hell of a reunion, wouldn't it? It must be nice to meet again at that year, right, Gab?."

But he then remembers when he slipped out on stage, performing for the first time in public. He also received punishment for bringing bread knives unnoticed during a PE event, which he didn't even have. Stuttering during a mandatory all-individual poem recital, failure at surprise test after test, and other memories makes him grovel to his knees and shout silently to the ground. His gentle hands crush his head, he cringes for minutes.

"I think I've had enough thinking for now," he quickly thinks. He returns the book and organizes the rest of the clutter, as usual. He inhales, exhales, inhales, and exhales. He counts to 10, backward, forwards, back, and forth.

He goes out of the storage room. He removes the apron from himself and places it on a nearby hanging nailed rack. He inhales, exhales, inhales, and exhales with a whimpered tear.

He then has enough food for two days. He has vegetables, canned food, liver spread, and a few kilos of rice from nearby stalls from shopping earlier. He then thinks of the book again and its reminiscence.

10:42 PM

He plugs and opens the TV as he prepares his dinner. A game show came up after a few remote clicks. He watches. The game finishes. He clicks again. He eats. He watches. The show finishes. His memory appears. He clicks. His memory lengthens. He eats. He watches. His memories appear one by one by one by one by one.

11:28 PM

The doorbell rang.

In his 'I eat knives for breakfast' T-shirt, he rises from his couch, lowers the staggering volume. He puts his plate in the sink, with the residue in the trash, washes it--

Ding..., Dong...,

--quickly, and when he looks at the peek hole, he opens the door.

He sees a woman with a leather-puffed ink-black soaked jacket with a plain red umbrella.

"Oy, Gab."

"What up, Sheesh. You're umbrella's hell as always," Gab says as Shiela barges through.

She laughs, "Sheesh, Ha! You've thought that nicker [nickname] for a long time, 'no? Boooooooored from cleaning and watching TV all the time."

"I'm a work, you know that--"

"Yeah, I know. I know. Congratulations on the restaurant opening," Shiela wants to shake his hand.

"For the 5th time."

"Tsk, never mind. By the way, I'm invading the guest house, is that fine to you?"

"What suits you. But I just bleached the sheets, you reek of charcoal."

"You mocking my work environment?"

"Not much, just warning you of a safety hazard."

"Thanks, but no thanks. But thanks again for the room. I promise to hang the coat."

"Time to clean the walls again," he thinks.

As she enters the room, she saw the storage room open. She then saw a sliver of a glimpse of the yearbook. She then stops. Half her face sags.

...,

"What's wrong, Sheesh?"

She chuckles, "Nothing. Nothing. Will you stop calling me Sheesh? That's so last year, and it's ok if you don't really mind it," ..., "Bye."

She goes into the room and dives immediately into the bed, judging by the sound of the bed tumping outside the door.

"Oy, don't crumple the sheets too much..., And don't bring your shoes with you. Have you eaten yet?"

She sighs loudly, "Not yet, chef. Aside from a bowl of noodles."

"Cup?"

"Actual noodles form a noodle stand before this stupid rain came."

As he climbs towards his bedroom, she opens her door and asks, "Are you free tomorrow, even if it's a Saturday?"

"What for?" Sheila puts something out of her pocket.

"Even if it's wet, it's readable, sorry." She gives a gift-card-sized metal with round edges with a white printout on both sides.

...,

 OUR REUNION VOW

 If you are Batch 2009 Aguinaldo, and you are with us or not on our last school day, you are welcome to our Bagong Malaya High School Batch 2009 GRAND REUNION.

Date: April 4, 2019, Saturday, from 11:24 in the morning to 6:00 in the evening.

Address: Burnham Park, Jose Abad Santos Drive, La Trinidad City, Benguet.

Attire: Formal

If you need any help or give help, contact to ###########* and to this email

@@@@@@@@@@@@@gmail.com*

See you there.

...,

Sheila says, "I'm worried because of the event," Gabriel finishes reading the text.

She continues, "With or without the thought of reconciling, I doubt you'll make it or even go to it in the first--"

"I'll go. How about you? You have any side jobs--"

"Nah, I'll go to. Work's boring nowadays, I wish everything should stop for a while."

...,

"Anyway, Gab. Do you have any 'formal attire' for the occasion?"

"I have it in my closet, newly laundered."

"I have mine in the car parked near your house. I doubt you'll hear it in the rain. I want you to join the reunion, that's why I came here in the first place."

"Yeah, I figured that out."

...,

"You already knew?"

"Yeah. Good thing you came, I have a set alarm for tomorrow." He scratches his head. "Baguio. Good luck driving. Good night, Sheesh."

"DON'T...," she sighs loudly, "Good night, good actually waking up." as they both closed doors and went to sleep.

That is until Gabriel didn't.

Author's Note:

*contact information, whether fictional or not, is redacted for security purposes of the author and the original user.