Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Not So Ghosts of Exes Past (The After Death Chronicles Part 2)
JM's death brought more than just one ghost to the forefront.
To say that his passing away caused some kind of avalanche in my otherwise placid and boring life is an understatement. Some ghosts of the past came to haunt me as well. With the news and its confirmation, what comes next naturally is telling people that I know of, who might also know him that he is gone so that they too may be able to pay their final respects.
At first I was hesitant. The only two other person I know of and have contacts with in a way are all... well... exes. Before even braving to break the silence, I counseled with my trusted friends if I should do it. They echoed my sentiments that it has to be done, no matter what the frictions in the past I have with the living. After all, it was the Christian thing to do. Let the dead bury the dead so to speak. So I braved the rift.
Let's start with Ex #1. Well, technically, we weren't really exes so to speak. It was, at most, a passionate affair, but see, what makes it awkward is the fact that he was THE BIG CRASH. Doc Oinkie! Remember? The Manic Monday that never came to be? Oh yes! I still have his number. I tried to call. It rang forever. He was not picking up. So I texted.
Batchoy: Hi, Doc. I didn't want to bother you. I did not want to tell you through text, but you are not picking up. I just want you to know that JM passed away. His body lies in state at such and such Memorial Chapels. You might want to pay your final respects.
In a matter of minutes, my phone rang. It was doc. I can hear his soothing voice and my heart, as usual, leaped up to my throat. He has such an effect on me that yes, I must admit, I even had a hard on. Bad Batchoy! The eventual 'interview' ensued. Are you sure, what is the cause of death blah blah blah. And then...
Doc: And how are you?
Luis: (Shit!) I'm fine. No. I'm great! ( And still not able to get past that Monday that never came, you stinkin' lyin' b@st@rd you!) Never better.
Doc: Are you going to the chapel?
Luis: Ahmm, I have been there earlier, that's why I was able to confirm.
Doc: I might go. I want to go. Maybe tonight.
Luis: Please do, Doc.
Doc: Where will you be? Will you be free tonight?
Luis: Ahmmm ( Of course, I will be free if you ask me to be! Stupid!) Let me see.
Doc: I was hoping you'd go when I do. I wanted to see you too!
Luis: (Arggghh!) Sure, let's see what we can arrange. What time will you be going.
And so... I agreed to meet up with him. In the chapels.
Doc: You know I'm attached, right?
Luis: Yes. What has that got to do with JM?
Doc: Nothing. Just saying.
Luis: Don't sweat it, doc oinkee. I'll see you there.
I made sure he got there ahead of me. I don't wanna be kept waiting. Not this time.
I entered the chapel and saw him instantly. On the front rows near the casket. He was beside an oldish guy. He was chatting with JM's mom. I eyed him cautiously. God, he still looks as good as I remember him to be. And the guy beside him? Well, vanity and pride, my dear.
He saw me. He motioned me to come sit beside him. I did a quick feel of my pulse. Surprisingly, no palpitations there. So I sat. Not much of catching up it was. He was very cautious around the boyfriend. Well, what did I expect? The exchange was clipped and careful. He asked me what my liaisons with JM was. If we dated, slept together, and all that jazz. I said yes. He sighed and I caught him whisper. 'Lucky guy!' I countered. 'Dead guy now!' He smiled. 'Still sharp and funny.' I did not want to look into his eyes. I did not want to interpret what I saw as a longing.
I kept checking my pulse. What is wrong with me? I can't seem to feel anything. What? No skip? No jitter? No big brass band? Well....
I left the room to have a ciggie. He followed suit. The boyfriend followed suit. Discomfort followed suit.
The night had to end. They had to get home because they have jobs the next day. I had to get home too. I walked him to the parking lot. Final goodbyes have to be said. I started extending my hand to shake his hands. He took my hand and pulled me to a tight hug. I heard him whisper. I missed you. Take care of yourself.
I thought, yeah, I have to take care of myself. No one does it for me.
I saw them get in to the car and drive away. I replayed the hug. Rechecked my pulse.
No response. NR.
Just like the result of the Elisa Test they did on JM, given his sexual preference and activities, they had to admit and be honest with their selves that such a possibility exists.
No reaction. Negative.
The way I tested these last few times. I do my Elisa's at least twice a year.
I slowly walked out of the funeral home.
Another ghost exorcised. Another loss. Another grief.
The big crash crashed down!
No more kahuna.
The wave broke and the shore placid in the moonlight.
Goodbye Doc Oinkie.
Photo Credits: http://boingboing.net/2009/10/06/exorcisms-vs-schizop.html