Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4: Perception

4.1

***

“Oi, what’s with you not having an appetite? I thought you said you were looking forward to Lacey’s experimental sisig-salad combo?” Jaric asked me, while I was looking at nowhere in particular, remnants of the pressure of those piercing eyes still lingering in me.

“Right,” I replied listlessly, before taking a bite of the salad.

Typical Lacey’s fare; no wonder, this is our town’s best-kept secret. Three generations of kitchen wizardry, with adequate support, turned the fortunes of a down-on-his-luck fish ball vendor and his family.

My mind returned to those eyes, and the way they seemed to see right through my soul.

It was uncanny.

“Earth to Max,” Jaric said again. “Don’t tell me, you found someone in the audience?”

“She had pretty eyes…” I replied off-handedly, and my thoughts got abruptly rattled when Jaric let out a whoop.

“About time, Max!” Jaric hollered. “I thought you’d be one of those guys who missed the train and end up reproducing by mitosis or something!”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. Jaric was one of those tough-guy types who talked a big game and backed it up if it came down to it… but once you figured him out, he was probably the biggest softie in our combat sports varsity team.

He was charismatic and witty, and sometimes could be mistaken for bullying, but he was just that earnest and concerned about his friends – he was raised to look like he didn’t care, but he couldn’t just change that part of him.

That was why he covered it up with wit; one of the guidance counselors we had quickly figured this out, and after talking to us after classes, all of us got along with Jaric that much better.

“Jaric is part of a family that only recognizes achievement and victory,” she said at the time. “He’s not the type to go against his family by the letter, so he tries to be himself in another way. If he says or does something that might sound strange or even hurtful to you, think of what his intentions in saying and doing them are; most of the time, he does or says things to make you feel better or take your mind away from your problems. Continue to see it that way, and you’ll get along more with him.”

I just smiled wider as he put an arm around my shoulder.

“So… are we going to put our guitar classes to good use now? What do you want us to sing for her?”

I laughed even harder.

“Jaric, it hasn’t even gone that far! But, really, thank you.”

The rest of the meal was a lot more animated than earlier.

***

Jaric and I were given the rest of the day off, as tomorrow would be the semifinals, and our opponents would prove to be tricky: I would take on a ringer named Joachim Carlos, while Jaric would be the first one to take on North Point’s Severino Palparan.

“Legal stuff, huh?” I asked, while on the phone with Miss Salve. “Oh… well, it’s fine. I can wait here for you at school, it’s just a couple of hours. Jaric? He went home already. I’ll just stay close by until you finish those things and get here. No, don’t worry – I ate enough at Lacey’s earlier. Okay, take care. See you later.”

Once I returned my phone to my pocket, I stood up from one of the waiting areas, prepared to make my way to Dr. Harry’s clinic to kill some time, and stopped dead in my tracks, as the same girl from earlier was standing right outside the school gate, the wind whipping ominously around her as her eyes bored holes into mine yet again…

…except this time, I managed to recognize the uniform she was wearing. Triple-C; Columbia Computer College, a vocational school not too far from here… and there’s only one person I know who studies there.

“Max,” she said once I made it to the gate. “That was some good fighting you did.”

“Yeah, Moira,” I replied. “Sorry I didn’t see you until it was over.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I didn’t want you to see me; would be a distraction.”

I nodded carefully towards my cousin Moira, and led her to the seats near the waiting area.

***

“So, what brought you here, aside from the tournament?” I asked Moira – technically, she’s only half my cousin, because my grandfather married twice in his lifetime.

Gramps had a picture of Grandmother at home, and every now and then, he gave it a look: died in childbirth, gave him a son.

That son was my father, and Gramps remarried soon after that, started another family, had several more children, but they were never as close to him as my father was, so he said.

Maybe that was why my grandfather retired to this place to help raise me, as he did not want any part of his second family to come into contact with me.

Given recent events and Salve’s tasks as Gramps’ executor, I’m starting to see why he tried to shelter me from all of that.

My grandfather’s second family made Jaric’s look small-time in comparison. Sure, they were able to succeed in business, politics, even entertainment… but there was something about it that looked, well, off.

I didn’t know what it was then, and I still don’t know what it is now, but the wriggling in my gut whenever I see Uncle Noel’s smiling face on television on those “holiday greetings” never really went away.

Moira just sighed.

“Them again, huh?” I asked with a smirk.

“Everything they’ve been talking about for the past few days has been Grandfather,” she replied after a wistful sigh. “Papa has his reelection campaign, Aunt Elli has her export business, Uncle Sigurd has his record label… but all they’ve been meeting up about lately is Grandfather and his last will and testament. He’s not even buried yet…”

It was a sobering thought.

What was it about Grandfather’s last will and testament that has their family freaking out, anyway?

I quietly digested these thoughts for a good long while.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” she said, breaking the silence. “Nobody was around to talk to me about it when I turned 17… hope you can have a better go of it than me.”

“Better go of what?”

“You’ll see. Good luck tomorrow.”

She stood up and smiled at me, and right when I was about to ask more about how she was doing, a familiar horn sounded from behind me.

Great, Salve’s here. I should let Moira tell her about what –

When I turned back to Moira, though, she’s gone.

I sighed. She always did that, and I never knew how she managed to pull that off.

Salve’s car rolled up to the front of Southern Cross, then towards the waiting area parking lot, where I awaited her arrival.

The passenger door of the blue sedan opened.

“What a day,” Salve exclaimed. “Come on in. We have some developments on your grandfather’s last will and testament.”

“Cool,” I replied. “Oh, and Moira showed up at the match earlier.”

“Hmm, Moira, huh? She’s one of the black sheep of your family… what did she have to say?”

“Nothing much,” I replied as we rolled into traffic and started the trip back home. “Just wanted to tell me ‘Happy Birthday’ or something.”

I didn’t understand then, but that greeting was a harbinger of things to come…