VAX

By Raoul Simon A. Suarez

It’s just another day at the barrio. Work starts at 10 AM and ends at 7 PM. No rain. No sun either. Nothing unusual.

I slept before midnight and woke up early today. I went out to buy cancer sticks at my suking tindahan in the barrio so I can complete my triple C (coffee, cake, cigarettes) morning ritual. I haven’t been consuming alcohol much since the pandemic hit hard so I’m trying to acquaint myself with other substances just so I can get my high.

The old man, who owned the store, was talking to one of the barangay tanods. He saw me walking towards his direction. He waved at me and went inside his store. When I got there, he didn’t ask me what I was going to buy and he already had a pack of cigarettes in his hand; ready to hand it to me. It didn’t amaze me that he already knew. We are all creatures of habit anyway.

I paid for the pack and thanked him.

He then “chismotically” asked me if I was done with my vaccination and boasted that he was already done with his. I nodded in response, told him that it’s a good thing that he is now vaccinated, and I gave him a nice high five. I tried to cut the small talk and told him I was in a hurry because I left the kettle at the stove. I lied. I just had to make up excuses so I can wave off another string of conversations. It’s a little too early for small talk and the lack of nicotine was making me a little jumpy and irritable.

The barangay tanod interrupted us and asked me if I took a one-shot dose or if I got a two-shot one. I said I’m turning Chinese soon because I got myself that Chinese vaccine and I feel like I can understand Mandarin now. Everyone at the store heartily laughed. I contorted my face, brows together, eyed each of them, and I frowningly asked what was funny in a very irritated tone. It wiped the smile off their faces. It was hilarious. There were awkward responses. I then told them I was just kidding and I was just playing with them. They laughed again. I should be a comedian but you just don’t make a lot of money with that sort of profession and there’s a whole lot of competition. I waved them all goodbye and told them I had to go home.

The barangay tanod then cut me off one more time and told me that he did not want to be vaccinated. He said he was against the vaccine and he can manage without it.

“Virus man lang na ginabutang mo sa lawas mo. Mabakod pa man akon immune system. Indi ko ni maano ah. Wala ko sina ‘ya nagapati.”

He said it with a whole lot of conviction that I wanted to believe him too. I was itching to tell him otherwise but most stupid people do not know that they are stupid. Educating them is an exercise in futility. We are in the age of information after all. He persistently asked me about my thoughts on the matter so I gave him my take.

“Wala pilitay magpabakuna ah. Narespeto ta ang mga amo sina nga desisyon. Imo na ‘ya diretso. Ang importante lang gid man siguro, nga may pangbayad ka lang sa hospital inkaso ma-igo ka.”

He replied to me that Covid-19 is just a money-making tool and so is the vaccine. Well, I’ll be damned. The vaccine is free and all you need to do is sign up for it then go to the vaccination site once you get a schedule. It isn’t that hard to do. Only an idiot would say that. Which he was anyway. I didn’t pay attention to that quip and asked him if he had hospital money. He said he didn’t because he was poor. I laughed so hard and the others who were at the store did not join me in that moment of happiness. Maybe they did not want to share that sort of joy.

“Hugta na lang pagtu-o mo. Isandig na lang sa dios nga napatihan mo ang imo kapalaran inkaso madalasa ka sang masakit. Basi pa man lang paayuhon ka nya. Kung kuha-on n’ya ka galing ti akon na ang kape sa haya mo ah.”

I gave him a wink and proceeded to laugh again. There were awkward smiles that can be seen from the faces of the other residents.

The barangay tanod looked a little dismayed at the remark. I took off my mask and tried to jokingly cough in his face. He quickly moved away and uttered some Spanish-style profanities. Damn. He was fast for his age. Maybe he could even dodge bullets with that speed. I told him not to be afraid because he believes that the virus isn’t real anyway. He hurriedly walked away and before taking a turn into the eskinita that led to his home, he told me that he always liked me as a kid but I have grown up to be an asshole. He was also wrong about that. I’m a dick.

When I got home, I was a little alarmed when I discovered that the kettle was indeed at the stove. I must have had a memory lapse. I should stop using white lies. I hurriedly tried to turn the knob into low-fire without noticing that my old man was at the kitchen. My old man asked me what I was doing. I didn’t respond. I pulled a cancer stick out of my pocket and lit it up. He said I should quit it and told me he was going to make coffee for the both of us because he got himself some new beans from somewhere. I asked him if he wanted a slice of cake with his coffee and he mouthed off a hard “NO” while waving his hand to-and-fro.

My senior citizen folks are getting vaccinated today. Maybe that’s why they were up so early. My mother has been blabbing nonstop and it has been just a few minutes since she got out of bed. I wonder how someone can pull that off. It must be a god-given talent. Anyway, you should get vaccinated too. We all should. Don’t be an idiot.

It’s just another day at the barrio. Work starts at 10 AM and ends at 7 PM. The rain has started to pour. Nothing unusual.

Good morning, you Indios.