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The Highs

To a girl whose native dialect is Visayan, but who was taught through the medium of Tagalog at school, learning English, along with the subtleties of ‘American Accent Training’ (required by Call Centre clients), came as naturally as breathing. Esther was equally adept at picking up the niceties of ‘good girl’ behaviour, as exhibited by her fellow university students.

For the first few weeks, despite the university uniform (‘grey slacks or skirt, two inches below the knee, white blouse and low-heel, closed shoes’) and the removal by laser surgery of the scorpion tattoo, she still had the brash look that proclaimed the bargirl. It was the little things that gave her away – too much make up, too much cheap jewellery, the ankle chain, the skirt too tight and too short – and most noticeable of all, a bold way of looking people, especially men, straight in the eyes.

But in no time at all, she had learned how to do it the ‘good girl’ way; learned how to look sexy, sophisticated and demure all at the same time. She had also managed to tone down the street Tagalog that she had picked up in Angeles, and was learning to speak like the middle class girls who made up 99% of the university’s intake.

These were Esther’s high days and holidays. She had worried that the work would be too hard for her, but in the event, found that language study came easily and that she enjoyed the lessons. But most of all, she looked forward to the evenings when she could be with Lucian. Her only care was that her lover should be happy; she was his toy, his chattel, his servant – his slave. She loved him as only Filipinas can love – with the whole of her heart and soul. She showed him sexual delights that he had never dreamed of, showered him before and after, put toothpaste on his brush, cut his nails and followed him everywhere. She would have sat with him in the toilet if he had not drawn the line because of his Anglo-Saxon inhibitions.

Happiness has no history, and the story-tellers of all lands have understood this so well that the words, ‘They are happy,’ are the end of every love tale. Hence only the ways and means of this romantic happiness in the heart of Manila can be recorded. It was happiness in its loveliest form; a poem, a symphony, of a year’s duration.

Lucian, nourished by love at night, could give full attention to the necessities of his position as Call Centre manager during the day. Indeed, the managing director was so satisfied with his work, that sooner than Carl had expected, he suggested the possibility of Lucian becoming a full partner. That was good news, but the problem of how to raise the 1,000,000 pesos to buy into the business was not going to easily solved.

Matters were in this position when, one day after class, Esther was shopping with Asia in SM mall, when a voice suddenly called out:

“Esther!”

The unhappy girl turned her head quickly at hearing herself called, recognized the speaker, and bowed her head like a dying creature that has drawn its last breath. It was one of her former customers.

© Rob 2007