TAMED

“How could you do this to me?! Why now?! Why him?!”, I lamented, as my tears ferociously fell down straight from my crumpled heart that not even Niagara Falls could match up with. I was perhaps the most stricken creature that day, as my body was curled at the feet of my best friend, almost kissing them, while my arms are wound around her ankles. It seems as though my tears were washing the very ground she was standing on. I held her tightly, as I pleaded and implored that she gives him back to me.

“Please…. Please…. ” I was inconsolable as I held on to her, and pleaded with every strength I have. I must have been a pitiful sight, one which my temperament couldn’t swallow. Yet I didn’t care. All I cared about was for my best friend to heed and attend to my pleas.

“Did you ever forget that I just lent him to you?”, she softly said when I became silent after a while of weeping. She always speaks in that tone that sometimes I almost couldn’t hear her. As she said that, she bent down to me and touched my right shoulder with her left hand. On her right hand was the handsomest Little Prince you could ever see, the very object of my tears. The Little Prince was held so close to her that he looked like clinging to her for dear life.

Perhaps if anyone had passed by us in that empty park, they would raise their eyebrows at the triviality of what I’m demanding for. After all, they would see the Little Prince in the most tattered clothing, without even a touch of royalty in its threads. His facial expression was winced as though he had eaten something sour, and he was so hunched and curled and almost lifeless in her arms. This is what the ordinary eyes see of our Little Prince. Yet he looks entirely different to our eyes, that is, to those who have all been tamed by him, my best friend included.

Our Little Prince was very much like that one encountered by that Pilot who crashed in the Sahara desert many years ago. Perhaps they came from the same galaxy, I don’t really know. All I know is that he has tamed us all, so much, that it feels we had always belong to each other. It feels that I had always owned him.

I didn’t forget she owned him! How could I when it was she who told me on my fifth birthday that I can bring her Little Prince to our house and I could play with him as long as I want? I never knew I would love the Little Prince, or that he would love me. But we did!

My cries have turned into groaning, because it already felt as though a hole was bored into me and it was left open just like that, while my blood keeps on coming out from there. It was an irreplaceable hole! “But why now? You didn’t even tell me you’d come today….”, I pleadingly reasoned, holding unto threads of hope that I found dangling before me.

“Of course you knew I would come. You knew it right from the start, didn’t you?” Her voice was still soft but a little louder this time. Is she angry already? I can’t help thinking - and somehow that made me tremble. “And besides,” she added, “it really doesn’t matter if I told you in advance of this particular visit. You should have only remembered I am the owner.”

I became speechless when she said that, for I know she was right.

My best friend eventually knelt down, placed my hands around her shoulders and embraced me so hard, maybe tighter than when I held her earlier. Just then, she wept too, not just with sobs of suppressed sorrow, but with grief unmatched by my own. Yes, I know it was grief because when you’re also grieving, you know when others are too. I had not yet heard her cry with such intensity.

I untangled my arms and looked up to her, but her eyes were closed as more tears continued to stream down her lovely eyelids.

“Why do you cry?” I whispered, with evident surprise in my tone. “You’ve got what you want! Aren’t you happy things happened just as you wanted them to?” I knew she sensed that sarcasm that I threw on her. Her tears hurt me more. I did not understand. I was the only one who had the right to cry for such a loss!

But she just maintained her silence as she continued to weep. After a while, she held my right hand with her left. “Hephzibah,” she said, “you know that I love you, right? But I love the Little Prince too! I cried because I know how painful it is to be parted from the one you love - ”

I didn’t let her finish: “Then how could you take him away from me?!” I was very insistent. I was angry!

Then her expression became serious as she continued, “have you ever looked at him the way I do?”

“YES!” I answered with evident boldness in my voice.

“No!” she corrected me. “Can’t you see now, he wants to go home! He’s in pain! He’s weak, and he needed me more than ever now. You can’t take care of him anymore. His only treatment is left at home, so I’m bringing him there.”

“But we have excellent doctors here!” I pleaded again, feeling the threads of hope weakening. “Please… Please…” I begged her again and again, not knowing what else to do.

“Hephzibah,” she said again with that patient softness, “you knew that he’s not just any ordinary citizen here, didn’t you? The doctors can’t treat him.”

I turned my head to the Little Prince on her right arm, as she talked to me. At that precise moment, he also turned his head towards me, and he looked at me! I didn’t understand what I saw. His eyes seemed to be groaning in pain and weariness, as though pleading for me to let him go.

At that instant, I knew I just had to give up begging. I cried louder as I hugged back my best friend. I also hugged him, so dearly, with my best friend’s permission.

“I will be seeing him again, won’t I?” I asked her as we released each other on that grassy ground, and we got up so they can get ready to leave.

She stroked my right cheek as she answered, “Of course Hephzibah, of course. My home is your home too, I told you that already, right? When both of you are well enough to see each other again, I’m going to fetch you too.”

“Thank you!” was all I could say, as I nodded. To him I said, “My Little Prince, you have tamed me, and so I will give you what’s best for you. I give you back to your real owner”. He then smiled at me and closed his eyes. I lingered at his last gesture, savoring them in my memory. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t notice them get into their car, or even when they disappeared in the horizon.

“Let’s now go home, honey.” Mother! How could I forget? She was just right there, on my back, watching my confrontation. I went to her open arms and wept again, “Mom…”

“He also tamed me, you know,” Mother said tearfully, “but then again, don’t we even long for home ourselves?” When I nodded, she continued, “Let’s go home then!”

When I made no effort, she nudged me and led me to our car. “Come on! Didn’t Khristie just say you could see him again? Hm?… Come on!… ”

“Yes, she did Mom,” I softly answered her, allowing her strong arms to lead me. I then felt how deeply and warmly my Mother loved me, and the nostalgia of home filled my senses. Mother’s right. With the same joy I have every time I’m home, I’m sure the Little Prince must have also longed for his. “Let’s go, Mom!”

: )

(by: Charyl A. Azarcon, 09March2011)

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For my Tatay, who has gone ahead of us to our real Home, and who has left us with assurance that there is such a place. May we be also found to have fought the good fight, run the race, and kept the faith. I love you Tay!