Chapter XXI: Retired
The sun is mercilessly bright above Hermosa Central School, bouncing off the tin roof and blinding parents waiting in the courtyard. Inside the Grade 1 building, ribbons and certificates glint in the light, pinned neatly on the wall. Children wriggle in their Sunday best, some too stiff in barong, others distracted by itchy lace collars.
In the middle row, Mark sits straight, nervous and proud. His hair is neatly combed, his socks pulled up, his shoes squeaky clean. He has done it—finished Grade 1, and not just that, he's in the Top 5.
The emcee calls his name. "Number five in class, third Honor—Mark Q. Lamento!"
He steps forward, cheeks pink, as a teacher pins a ribbon to his chest. His eyes dart toward the crowd.
There they are: Meric and Ben, clapping eagerly, while Mercy and Rico cheer from the corner, fanning themselves with their programs.
"That's my apo!" Mercy shouts loudly, startling a few quiet parents beside her. She doesn't care. Pride makes her voice carry across the whole hall.
When the recognition ends, Mrs. Alcones, adviser of Grade 1B, approaches Meric. She wears her teacher-smile—half stern, half warm.
"Mrs. Lamento," she says, "your son did very well. I believe he's ready to move up to Section A next year. Grade 2A."
Meric's eyes widen a little, impressed. "Really? He can be promoted?"
"Yes," the teacher nods. "He'll do better there."
Meric beams, already imagining her son in the "star section."
One month later, Meric is back at the school, papers in hand. The enrollment lines are long, sweaty, and filled with impatient parents. She pushes through, makes small talk with other mothers, and when the registrar asks, she confirms:
"Yes, Grade 2A. Please."
Mark, waiting beside her, doesn't really understand the fuss. He just fiddles with the strap of his bag and wonders if Section A means less homework or more.
Meanwhile, Mercy sits alone at the counter of RQ Store. Afternoon light filters through, hitting the three framed graduation portraits on the wall—Elric, Meric, and Jonn. Each one in their black robes, stiff smiles frozen forever.
She gazes at them, lost in thought. Her children, each with their own path. Some near, some far, some drifting.
The door creaks. A man in business attire enters, carrying the faint smell of cologne and paperwork.
"Good afternoon," he says politely.
"Good afternoon," Mercy replies, curious.
"I am a hotel owner from Santolomingo," he explains, adjusting his glasses. "I've been scouting lots here in Hermosa. I want to buy this property."
Mercy blinks, stunned. "Buy? The lot?"
"Yes, ma'am. For promotion of a hotel here. Since it is near the famous Calle Crisostomo, of all the Hermosa Heritage Houses, it drawn me here, it is a good, extravagant, and strategic location for a hotel, ma'am."
She stays silent for a long moment, her eyes drifting again to the portraits on the wall. RQ Store has been her life, her livelihood, her anchor. But she knows, deep down, change is inevitable.
After a pause, she nods slowly. "Alright. Let's talk about it."
Soon enough, contracts are drawn, papers signed. The deal is done.
One day, Meric and Mark are carrying grocery bags from JTC Heritage Superstore. Mark munches secretly on a pack of biscuits, while Meric nags him about eating too much sugar.
When they step into RQ Store, their eyes widen.
The back walls are being demolished. Dust rises, hammers slam, chunks of wood and cement fall. Yet at the counter, as if nothing unusual is happening, Mercy is still selling sardines to a customer.
"Mang!" Meric shouts. "Anya daytoy? (What's this?) What's going on?"
Mercy shrugs casually. "Ah, Mayyang! They're demolishing the back. But the store's still open. Business doesn't stop."
At the far side, Rico and Jonn swing hammers. Jonn has tied a rag around his head like a headband, pretending to be a construction hero. Rico just grunts with each swing.
Mark stands frozen, jaw dropped. "But... Mamang... they're breaking the house!"
"Yes," Mercy answers simply. "We are moving to Caluipat."
And so, just like that, it is decided.
Later that afternoon, Meric and Mark head home. Behind them rolls a truck full of cardboard boxes, tied precariously with ropes. Bags, old jars, furniture, even a rusting electric fan—all stacked high.
Following the truck, Mercy, Rico, and Jonn squeeze into the family tricycle, shouting instructions to the truck driver whenever the truck sways dangerously.
When everything arrives at the Caluipat house, there's chaos at first—boxes everywhere, people shouting, dust rising.
Mercy, Rico, and Jonn settle upstairs in the second floor, while Meric, Ben, and Mark claim the ground floor. The house is big, almost too big, with three rooms unused. Mark runs through the empty halls, his footsteps echoing, imagining it as a playground.
But with the new house, comes new surprises.
One evening, Jonn arrives from duty at the Provincial Hospital. He parks his motorcycle at the side, removes his helmet, and enters the house to chat with Meric.
Mark, curious as ever, creeps close to the motorcycle. He leans too near. Then—hissss! The exhaust pipe burns his left calf.
"AAAAAHHH!" Mark screams, collapsing to the ground.
Jonn and Meric rush outside. "What happened?!"
Mark clutches his leg, tears streaming. The burn mark is red, angry, painful.
Jonn curses himself. "Mac, sorry! That's my fault!" He runs for ointment, while Meric blows on the wound uselessly.
Mark wails dramatically, as if the world has ended. "I'm gonna dieeee!"
"No you're not, Balong!" Meric snaps, half panicking, half exasperated.
Within minutes, the wound is cleaned, wrapped, and Mark is comforted with a glass of cold Milo.
Another day, Meric and Ben prepare for a wedding. Meric showers quickly, humming. The bathroom has natural ventilation—a gap where sunlight filters through.
She happens to glance upward.
And sees... a snake sliding across the beam.
She screams so loud the whole house shakes. "U-U-ULEG! (S-S-SNAKE!) BEN! PANG! HELP! THERE'S A SNAKE OVER HERE!"
Everyone rushes in panic. Ben and Rico grab garlic and bottles of Sukang Iloko from the bodega. They spray and sprinkle around the CR like witch doctors, muttering half-serious prayers.
For four hours, they battle it—hissing snake against vinegar and persistence. Finally, the creature is killed. Meric refuses to shower alone for weeks after.
Then come the cats.
At first, one stray appears near the gate. Then two. Then suddenly, a whole parade of cats takes over the house—lounging on the roof, prowling the garden, sneaking into the dirty kitchen and the bodega.
Exasperated, Mercy declares, "We'll bring them to the streets of Hermosa!"
So, one morning, the family piles onto a tricycle. Meric, Mercy, Rico, and Mark, plus a box of yowling cats. They drop them off in Hermosa, near a street corner.
Problem solved... or so they think.
Days later, three cats mysteriously return. No one knows how.
The family decides to name them.
The first has a small tail, brown-white-black patches. Batik.5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSVKltiy3St
The second is orange, loud, and gluttonous. Garfield.5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9WWow0ZSsp
The third is modest, black and white, with quiet eyes. Sylvester "Salvi" Torre.
Garfield soon grows too aggressive, bullying the others. Rico grumbles, "That one goes." So on a bicycle with a sidecar, Rico, Mercy, and Mark pedal to Pardas Proper and drop Garfield near the town market. Garfield is in a brown Refresh Cup box. As they are away, Mark looks behind and he sees that someone sees the box. As the person picks it up, she calms it down.
Back at home, Batik often disappears, hunting through the neighborhood. Salvi, however, becomes the true house cat—quiet, watchful, claiming the home as his own.
December comes. The air smells of roasted bibingka and smoke from fireworks testing. Apo Ina visits the Caluipat house again, bringing a small vintage image of Sto. Niño.
Mercy beams, placing it carefully on the altar beside her other statues.
The garden is wider now, filled with pots and greenery. Mercy tends to it daily, adding new plants, pruning old ones. One afternoon, she carefully decorates the spines of the tall snake plant with egg shells.
Mark, watching curiously, asks, "Mang, why put eggs there?"
Mercy smiles. "It's tradition, apo. For luck. Especially for the New Year."
Mark nods seriously, as if understanding a great secret of the universe.
And so, the family adjusts to Caluipat life—filled with burns, snakes, cats, demolitions, and traditions. Through every small disaster, they laugh, argue, and keep moving forward together.
5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi3k8YlahG9
and then Add to home screen.