Si Inday

Tanghalian

Martinez is a flirt.

This isn't new information, this is just a fact. Inday and Martinez haven't known each other long, but it's easy to paint a picture of his personality. Martinez is the guy in high school who went to class with his polo open. He was the kind of guy who would sweet-talk the younger teachers out of a failing grade. He was the kind of guy that broke hearts. He was handsome, and he knew it.

He's annoying, is what Inday's findings would be if you asked her.

If you asked Martinez, however, he knew exactly where to fit Inday in his head. She needs to relax, for the most part, he'd probably say. Martinez was used to seeing people like Inday, but he wasn't used to dealing with them. Some of the more notable traits you'd assume about her: studious, serious, ...teacher's pet.

She took work seriously, and did things well. She's polite to everyone, and says "po" and "opo" unironically. Old people love her. Kids end up calling her Ate. Inday is...

Uptight. Martinez concluded.

But now, as luck would have it, Martinez and Inday were stuck with each other, in a small apartment, in a far-away province. Two different genres of songs found on the same album, and with different vocalists.

Inday finished her coffee, as if she didn't just have her hand around Martinez's jaw moments ago. She watched him retract back into his seat and put a hand to his jaw to check for any swelling. She didn't hurt him, did she? No, she was sure she didn't. She waited for him to speak, but he was unusually quiet for some time. She enjoyed the new found peace the situation gave her, but with Martinez, that peace was short-lived.

He found his audacity back, and was reclining onto his chair smugly, "Foul yun ah." he looked at the ceiling as he spoke. "Wala namang gulatan," he peered over at Inday, "Para next time prepared ako para sa'yo." he raised an eyebrow.

If Inday was more expressive, she would've scoffed. But she simply stood up to clear the table. Martinez took that as a sign that the conversation was over, and offered to do the dishes since Inday was the one who cooked.

As they piled the plates on top of each other, Inday spoke, "Hindi ko alam kung gaano katagal tayo dito." She passed the utensils to Martinez, who took it rather gently. He was listening.

"Pero kung pwede," she continued calmly, "kakailanganin natin ng pera." She looked at him to see if he understood.

Martinez looked at Inday, and smiled.

"Relaaax..." he took the plates from Inday's hands and started walking to the sink. "Anong tingin mo sakin? Manghoholdap?" he shot her a wounded look from the sink.

Inday raised two hands placidly, as if caught. Martinez pouted, and went to start on the dishes. "Grabe ka naman," he smiled to himself. "Puso lang naman ninanakaw ko..." he decided to continue where his thoughts led him, "at minsan hali-"

A door slammed shut. Inday had left him to finish his sentence on his own.

The province they found themselves in was about 400km away from Maharlika. Far, but not far enough for Inday.

She decided that this would be a good starting point for her, but she had to get farther away. The people and relationships she left in Maharlika still stung, and she didn't want to be reminded of them constantly if she stayed there. Can you imagine trying to get over an ex, and then running into them at the grocery store? Yeah, no. If the Philippines is anything, it's an archipelago. And Inday was ready to utilize this geographic advantage to its full potential. So she packed her bag, and got on a bus. Then, Martinez sweet-talked himself to the conductor to get a free ride along with her. Out of sight, out of mind.

Besides, Inday wasn't new to running away. If anything, she was just going back to her roots. Being an aswang meant needing to avoid suspicion from the the people of the towns she visited. They couldn't hurt her in a way that mattered physically, but it still stung to have people she knew treat her differently the moment they find out.

But you can't blame them for their fear, Inday rationalized.

-

Inday found herself in front of a concrete home. To its side was a white gated driveway that contained a red SUV. The house went up to 3 floors. It was obviously one of the more well-off households of the barrio.

She looked around and met eyes with a tricycle driver parked on the street. "Kuya!" she called out. "May tao po ba dito?"

The driver put out his cigarette on the road, and hastily waved Inday towards the home. "Meron yan ne, doorbell ka lang!"

Inday nodded a thanks to him from a distance, and she pushed on the doorbell that was painted over in white paint. She heard a tune reverberate through the building, and waited. She heard the shuffling of slippers down wooden steps, and a woman opened the gate to meet her.

She was perplexed to see Inday, and even looked to the tricycle driver across the road for confirmation. Kuya shrugged from his tricycle.

"Magandang tanghali po," Inday started politely. The woman prepared for a sales pitch from Inday, her expression was about to shift to be on the defensive. Inday met her eyes confidently, and offered, "Naghahanap daw po kayo ng tutor?"