Visitation

The new block of wood is in my hands. I am not sure what I will find within. All I touch calls me to remove it. None of it will be part of the result. I get about the task of removing the husk from that which resides patiently within.

The beginning is tedious. I do not know what I am looking for. I just cut away. It is simple whittling and uses little of my conscious attention that the later work will require. The rewards are far off as the mindless work continues. Jezryl hovers just inside the door. I can feel her more than hear her.

Come out here and talk to me. I have time.

She emerges from the shadows and stands stock still.

Good lord, Jezryl, relax, sit by me, and tell me, what is troubling you?

She does, sort of, but relaxed she isn’t.

What is it, girl?

My sister! You never say OK. You not give your permission.

I don’t know the girl. She will just show up and she is here? What if I think she’s a real problem?

She not. She no problem. I promise. You will like her. She be good.

Maybe she will not like it here.

She will like it. No problem that.

Does she go to school?

Yes, of course. She sophomore at Naval National High School.

She a behavior problem? Jezryl, you must tell me the truth.

She not. It true. She not problem.

Why do the people she is staying with want her to go?

What? They not! They happy with her. I want her with me!

Why?

She my sister! I need her here.

This is an embedded cultural thing and there is nothing I can do, to change the world here, to fit my mold. I chose to live here and I am more than happy fucking this kid, so I guess, her sister is going to be added to the household and the dinner table.

What is your sister’s name?

Jelou.

OK. Jelou can come, if she really wants to leave where she lives now, and not because you want her here. Are we clear?

Yes! Thank you!

Not so fast. Invite the people she lives with and your sister to meet with me, if she really says she wants to come. … I will make sure this is her request and not just your desire. Now, … is there anything else?

OK to invite Myra’s parents for supper?

Tonight?

Yes, OK?

Myra wants this?

Yes, she text me to ask you.

OK, tell her yes.

For the life of me, this seems as weird as it gets. But if they want to come I guess we invite them. Still, maybe more is better than fewer. Jezryl, how about if we invite Jecim’s mother and uncle as well?

Really? Wow, good idea! Her uncle has wife and kids. OK to invite them too?

Yes.

OK, we do it. Wow! Party!

Yes, but do not include your sister in this. We will do that separately and when it fits the schedule of those with whom she lives now. You understand?

Yes. OK.

Yes indeed, it will likely be a party, tonight. It will also likely assist me in avoiding any awkward questions tonight. And I will not get fucked with, by having Jelou slide in without proper vetting.

Anything else?

Can we rent a videoke?

We have one.

Where?

Look in the utility room behind the washroom. It is under some tarpaulin.

Dirty ice cream¹?

Isn’t it too late to order that for tonight?

I will check. Is it OK if I can?

Yes, I guess. But we don’t know if anyone is really coming.

Ha! They will come. You will see.

OK, anything else?

Filipino food tonight?

Yes.

You need more beer and some Tanduay or Fundador I think.

If they are coming, you can get a case of “San Mig” Pilsen² and four bottles of Fundador Light. Anything else?

I go to the market?

Find out who is coming first!

OK, OK. And with that she takes her leave of me. No wonder why she was pacing just inside the doorway before, considering all that being bottled up inside her.

I never stopped working the wood as we spoke and I continue once she has gone. It gives me something to do, which I enjoy. Does it have great meaning? No. Is it ‘whittling’ away my time? Sure. Is it aimless? No, but to argue that the aim is worth anything other than to allow me to spend my days in peace, would be exaggerating the value of the act. My days are for my enjoyment, and for no other purpose. There is no goal I have set out. I am adding nothing to the universe that makes a damned bit of difference. I am simply enjoying being alive. Isn’t that enough?

I have a sense of something in the wood now. It is still a gentle feeling, but it is there. My knife begins to find its way.

Jecim has joined me. She sits patiently until I deign to recognize her presence.

Yes, what is it?

Thank you.

For?

Inviting my family.

Ah. You are welcome. Is anyone coming?

Yes, of course. They all come.

Who is ‘all?’

Mother, uncle, uncle’s wife, their four children.

Not your father?

My father is dead. My step-father, he not come. He not live with us. My mother live with her brother.

With Jomar’s family?

Yes.

I see. Is Myra’s family coming?

Yes. Her mother, father, a sister and her child, a brother, his wife and children! It will be very good. Sir I will go to the market now, OK?

Yes, that is fine.

Sir, is it OK if my mother and uncle’s wife come and help us prepare for the party tonight?

I smile. A party like this is a lot of work. My girls will need help. Of course. Will that be enough assistance?

Maybe, but it would be better if we have one of Jezryl’s friends help too.

OK, I agree.

I just know I will have problems keeping all the new names straight tonight. But I already know Jecim’s mom. So that’s easy. The other one with her will be Jomar’s wife.

The videoke will be noisy and I will take my leave of those who are singing when that occurs, but it should be a nice party. These things are generally raucous, but filled with good humor and courtesy. As there are two family groupings, there will be no unpleasant discussions as that would cause some to lose face. No one will want to do that. To lose honor in that fashion is more than unseemly. It simply doesn’t happen when the elders are still around.

The wood continues to talk to me as layer upon layer is removed. The sun is high in the sky now. The heat of the day is far more demanding. My blade continues to ease its way through the jumbled grain, as a voice that I do not know, asks me, What will it be, Sir?

I look up to see a pretty girl of teen years, in a crop top and very short shorts, barefoot, looking right at me, with a hint of a smile on her charming face. Her toenails are painted blue. Her feet are wide by the ball and toes, and as such, show signs of rarely seeing shoes. This must be Jezryl’s friend. She is cute and too young.

I don’t know. It hasn’t told me, what or who it is yet. But it will soon.

It will talk to you?

I hope so. If not, all there will be, is a pile of wood shavings on the ground when I am done.

That is silly, Sir.

It may be silly, but it is true. … Who are you?

I am Vieve. Friend of Jezryl.

Thank you for coming to help us today.

You are welcome, Sir. I go back to work now. Good to meet you.

Nice to meet you, Vieve.

Oh, Sir? I come to tell you, lunch is ready.

Inside the house I catch sight of Jecim’s mother and another woman, who must be Jomar’s wife. I ignore them. They are busy and do not need me interrupting them.

Jezryl has found the videoke. It is being wiped down and made more presentable. I have no doubt it will be turned on soon enough to satisfy any concern that it might not work.

Voices fill the air, but none of them are sharp. There is a level of teamwork between individuals who do not know each other but share a common heritage and culture. This is not the first time that those who do not know each other will join to get a party ready. It is probably more the norm. All is OK. It is as it should be. I finish my meal and return to the wood.

Mid-afternoon I hear something just inside that seems to need resolution.

What is the problem in there?

Jezryl’s voice answers among the hubbub, They want to know what you do but are afraid to come out and see.

I don’t bite. Why the fear?

They afraid you will be angry. I know that not happen.

You are correct. Ladies, come out now.

And they do. All of them. Jezryl asks, May I show them the one you finish?

Yes.

She lifts the cloth that covers ‘She of the Wood.’ There are gasps. Jomar’s wife asks, You do this?

But before I can answer, Jecim responds, Why we show you his work if he not do it?

Yes, of course, I am sorry, but this is so beautiful. This is art. What will the one you work on now be?

I don’t know yet.

Maybe it will be me! says Vieve.

This one is a nude. I don’t think you want to have a naked carving of you for all to look.

Why not? She is beautiful.

Thank you for that. I am happy you find her beautiful.

It is Jecim’s mom who speaks for all of them. We all see her beauty. You are a true artist, Sir Roland. Any of us, I am sure, would be happy to be your model.

I guess if I used models, the concept would be intriguing. As it is, I do not.

Jecim’s mom decides the itch they needed to scratch has been satisfied and gets them off the terrace and back to prep work.

As my hands once again return to the wood, I ponder a curious reality. Here in my home I have always, married, or separated, been surrounded by women. There is an absence of men. At times when a few Filipino men come, they will grab a bottle and settle down outside. If there is food, they will come and fill a plate before going outside. But often they don’t even come. It is the women who come inside, married and single. I have often been the only man at the table of eight or more women.

Are all beautiful?

No, but many are fine.

Can each of them be had?

No, of course not. Such an assumption can get you killed or at least in serious trouble. But all want to be your friend and all want to flirt a bit.

And so, it ends up tonight. A brother does not show up but the guy’s wife and kids do.

Myra’s father also doesn’t come, but her mother is here. The only other man, is Jomar.

Jomar stays long enough to eat supper, pat me on the back and tell me that I am respectful of Filipino culture for having such a party before leaving with the excuse that work calls for him. The Fundador has not been touched.

The females are a very different story. Both Myra’s sister and her sister-in-law flirt with me. Vieve gropes me, much to my surprise. Jomar’s wife pulls me aside and tells me that she finds me a good man. She hopes I will give her some nieces and nephews. Myra’s mom has no English but, through Myra, she tells me about the same thing. And then she says something that I most assuredly did not see coming. She hopes I will give Jezryl a child and give her a reason to settle down.

I am without words. Yes, it very well might happen that Jezryl gets pregnant. But why did she go so far as to say she thought it a good thing?

As the kitchen has been cleaned, all other tasks completed, the videoke does get a good workout. Other activities include a card game, gossiping and teasing between all those here.

I decide to retire to my bedroom.

I have brought a brandy upstairs with me and am reading a book when the door opens without what I would consider the requisite knock.

Good evening, Sir.

Good evening, Vieve. What brings you to my bedroom tonight?

You don’t want to sing, Sir?

No, it is not what I enjoy.

Am I pretty, Sir?

Yes you are very pretty.

You like me?

Vieve, I do not know you. You seem nice.

You want me to make you feel good?

Really? You want me to fuck you?

If you want. You want?

Does Jezryl know you are up here?

Yes. She tell me where I can find you.

Does Jezryl know what you want me to do?

Yes.

Was this your idea, or hers?

Both?

How do you know Jezryl?

She no tell you?

Come on, Vieve, if I knew, I would not be asking you.

You know what Jezryl do when you meet her?

Yes.

Me too. I do that.

Sometimes you do it together?

Yes, sometime if the guy want two.

Do you go to school?

No, no more.

Do you have a family?

I live with my mother and my sister.

Does your mother know what you do?

My mother, she do the same thing, Sir. Maybe that why she have me and my sister.

Vieve, go home now.

No, Sir. I stay the night here and help clean up tomorrow morning.

OK, go down and sing with the rest. We will not fuck tonight.

You don’t like me?

I never said that. I don’t want to get any illness and before I would even consider it, you would have to be examined by a doctor. So no, it is not that I don’t like you. It is that I don’t want to get something from you and I don’t want to give that to my girls.

I not sick, Sir.

Vieve, what you mean is that you do not feel sick. You do not know if you are sick.

Yes, Sir. Maybe you correct.

Now go and join them and have a good time.

Yes, Sir.

The kid leaves and I take a good long sip of the brandy. I return to the book. I get about ten more pages read before there is a knock on the door. Who the fuck, now?

I get up from the bed, after putting the brandy and book down, and open the door. There stands Myra’s older sister. The one with a kid and no husband, whatsoever. I was told her name, but for the life of me, I can’t remember it. I certainly didn’t think I’d need to know it tonight.

Good evening. How can I help you?

Good evening, Sir. Sir, I talk to my sister. I think you need more help here. I can do this for you. Whatever you need, Sir. I am sure I am able.

I see. No limits?

Sir?

How long has it been since you were with a man?

Six years, Sir. Why you ask?

Does your sister know you are up here now?

Yes.

Does she know what you are offering?

Yes, Sir. She knows.

OK, come in, take your clothing off and get on the bed.

Sir?

You said, ‘Whatever I need.’ That is what I need now.

She is not moving. I think this whole damned thing is funny. Each thinks that she has found the gravy train and all she has to do is jump on. Time to send her downstairs.

Well, thank you for your generous offer, but I don’t think I will have a place for you here. Why don’t you go back down and rejoin your sister.

Something snaps inside her head. I can almost hear it happening. It is a physical thing. She does not say a word, but she comes into the bedroom, removes every stitch that is on her and gets on the bed.

As I remember she is a good ten years older than Myra. She looks fine out of her clothing though there would never be any confusion between her and a teenager.

I lock the bedroom door and disrobe. Once on the bed I pull her head down to my dick and wait to see what happens. She is doing a serviceable job of sucking me off. It isn’t world class, but it is not bad either. I move around a bit enough so I can play with her cunt. All I have to do is touch it and she spreads her legs and pushes her hips up to meet and encourage me.

In short order, she is wet. I pull my dick out of her mouth, reposition and plunge into her cunt without protection. I don’t think she is staying for the whole thing. I will fuck her for a while and then get her to back out and leave, leaving me ready for Jecim later tonight.

For a thirty-two-year-old woman, she is every bit as tight as is Jecim. She is right there with me as we build. I am enjoying her greatly, but I don’t need yet another here. I have more than I need already.

God knows I don’t want to stop. I want to see her face as she feels my cum enter her. But I am going to be cruel because there is no place for her here.

Damn, she is good. Her cunt muscles are doing a morse code message on my dick. I squeeze her ample tits, pinching a nipple. She cums hard.

I laugh, You miss that?

Yes! Yes! Very much!

But if you come, I will fuck your little daughter. You don’t want to be mine. You need to protect your little girl. And I pinch her nipple again very hard.

Oh my God! You want to fuck her! OK, Fuck her, fuck me. It OK. Whatever you want. Whatever you want. Whatever you want. Whatever you want! Ooohhhh Fuuuck!

And she cums again. This time my balls are boiling and they deliver the hot punctuation to the end of this conversation.

---

---

Chapter 11