What Kind of Day Page 2

  “Thank you,” he said, also a programmed response.

  “Going on this tour was Rochelle’s idea,” Tita Mari went on, never mind if the earphones were still in both his ears. “She's really into art and culture right now.”

  “None of my friends want to join a tour on a school break,” Rochelle piped in, prepping her own earphones.

  “You need better friends,” Ben told her.

  “I know, right?” Rochelle needed no other reaction to that, and had plugged into her own entertainment now.

  “Just you?” Tita Mari said.

  “Just me.”

  “Why just you?”

  Ben shrugged. “I like art and culture.”

  “Rochelle is a fan of Naya the tour guide. I didn't even know that was a thing? How do you become a fan of a tour guide?”

  “She did more than guide tours, before,” Ben said. “Naya was part of a campaign to promote tourism.” He wasn't even online so he couldn't fill the blanks, so he was going by stock knowledge here. If he knew of her work, then there could have been only a few projects they could have tangentially worked on together. Process of elimination yielded the handful that she could have directly participated in. Everything he said was true as long as he wasn't asked for specifics.

  “That's amazing. She seems very passionate about it. Though I didn't realize she'd be that old.”

  Old? “She’s probably around my age, Tita.” He was thirty-two, but yes, that was old for some. He didn't need that additional bit of reflection, today of all days.

  “Not that way, Ben. Rochelle watches her on YouTube and I thought they'd all be teenagers. Kids.”

  “Oh in that case, she's definitely not a kid.”

  “I'm glad to see you here, Ben. You seemed to be so buried in work the past few years.”

  His “work” and everything about it was now crammed into a backpack that was right under Tita Mari’s seat. His work was now buried under her, in a way. He was surprised she hadn't mentioned any news from today, but maybe she was being polite. Or Naya was just that absorbing that Tita Mari hadn't felt the need to tune her out by going online. He had to remember to thank Naya even for the things she didn't know she was doing.

  “Maybe I need better friends too,” Ben said.

  3

  Guests of See This Manila probably thought Naya was aimlessly goofing off on the internet, during those lulls between tour stops and she was on her phone. She was, instead, browsing the guest profiles, reading the information they chose to share when they signed up to join her tour.

  Mari and Rochelle Martinez, mother and daughter. Naya knew Rochelle; they’d started interacting online over a year ago. Rochelle was a frequent commenter on Naya’s videos and posts, and had been trying to arrange to join a tour for a while. Naya scheduled her tours on weekdays so full-time students like Rochelle weren't often available, but this was a rare convergence of the right tour, the right schedule, and a week-long school break for her. It was nice of her mother to come along.

  The other pair, Anil and Jana, were foreign nationals working at an international development organization. It was Anil’s idea to join the tour and there were originally two other people from their workplace who reserved spots. But anyway, eventually only Anil and Jana showed up, and Naya was almost sure they'd be dating soon. If this wasn't the first date already. Showing up was crucial, she learned, when it came to dating. Even just emotionally.

  She glanced over their profiles and told herself to be happy for them. An unexpected market for her tours? Couples. New couples. First or second date-type couples. She wasn't sure who gave people that idea but every tour she ever did had at least one couple, even when she planned to take them to places where they'd get hot, or sweaty, or dirty.

  God maybe that's it. Haha, you people.

  The third pair, Dexter and Danny, were an actual couple. She would never admit it but she kept a tally of cutest group in each tour, and the Dexter/Danny pair were the cutest today. Sorry, others. On their signup form, Dexter had said that it was their anniversary. Naya made sure to tell those in charge at their food stops to set up a nicer table than usual for them. They seemed pleasant and in a good mood but really, an anniversary wasn't to be spent with six other strangers at a table.

  Wait, seven strangers now, because Ben.

  Before leaving the parking lot that morning, Melly had pulled her into a quick conference outside the van.

  “I looked him up.”

  “Ben?”

  “Yes. I didn't want to leave without checking.”

  “That's great of you, and that's why we're partners. What's he hiding from?”

  Melly had scrunched her nose in disgust. She didn't particularly like anything political. “Do you know anything about Senators Alano and Buena?”

  She had tried to remember, but her background knowledge was almost zero on the current sitting senators, especially the ones who got their seats in the most recent election. Naya had been out of government consulting by then and wasn’t paying attention. Only that David Alano and Jacqueline Buena were somewhat popular, and maybe insulted each other in the press at some point.

  It was all the same to Melly. “I don't really understand it, but there's drama, and the two senators were arguing about something, and there's a statement that it's his fault and he's being let go from his position.”

  “You read an article on this?”

  “I read a headline and the first paragraph. I really don't understand what else is going on here.”

  As described, that was a slow day in national politics, but as long as Melly didn't seem concerned, Naya was fine. They decided that they'd let him stay in the van, and the morning would go as scheduled.

  Naya wasn't doing government work anymore, and even when she was, it was different from Ben’s side of it. She was a traveler with a background in video production. Eventually she became part of a team that traveled and made videos of their travels to promote local tourism. Her interactions with politicians were kept to a minimum, but she was aware of personnel movement and chismis because that sometimes affected their side of things.

  Since quitting her job, Naya avoided the news as much as she could. She tried to filter her news so she would only get tourism- and traffic-related things, and that wasn't much help because those two were connected to everything else. She didn't even know what to look for, but as soon as the news page began to load, she saw it.

  Oh boy.

  Well, Ben Cacho hadn't committed a crime. It was political drama, more like theater than real life. Melly shrugging it off was the exact reaction to be expected from regular people who considered all those guys the same kind of crooked and didn't care if a career ended today or not.

  Looked like Ben’s career ended today, within ten minutes of him stepping into her van, and that was the political life sometimes. But Naya knew what the other side of an epic career meltdown looked like and she survived it.

  Ben would be fine. Maybe she should be nicer to him.

  She looked his way, his corner at the back of the van.

  He turned her way, a moment after, and caught her looking.

  He smiled, mouth moving as if singing along to a thing coming from his earphones, and she wondered if she should feel sorry for him at all.

  And why was she even thinking about him? This was time better spent on her actual tour guests, the ones who wanted to be there.

  Quezon City, 9:45 a.m.

  * * *

  If Naya turned into a monster, or if she actually were a monster right that minute, her eyes would be red. Red, burning, big eyes—so judgmental and red. The other monsters would probably stay away from her because whoa that one, so red.

  The first stop of that day’s See This Manila tour was the Arande Art Gallery in Quezon City, and they arrived within five minutes of Naya’s original estimate. Now, Naya did not have a background in modern art, but she did know the curator, and in her humble opinion she thought this exhibit was fucking
good.

  She even had a favorite piece. After she spent some time introducing the gallery and checking the status of the art class collaboration she had set up, she went straight for it. The artwork was, to explain it simply, an entire wall of monsters. The artist did a “monster a day” webcomic project and the result, three hundred sixty-five colorful monsters, which were now on display, rows upon rows of them, against an off-white background. One monster was just three inches tall and had two heads. Another was twice as tall and had a fire in his belly—or instead of a belly.

  Ben was already there, earphones thrown over his shoulder. He was bending forward, his eyes on the bottom row of monsters.

  “So which one are you?” That was her standard line whenever someone from the tour joined her in looking. It was fun, and people laughed. Perfect ice-breaker.

  Ben did not laugh. He smiled, but it was rueful, and he pointed to a monster holding its own head over its balls. “That one.”

  “Oh my God, Ben.”

  “I’m not too proud to admit it.”

  “Yes that seems to be a thing with you. Are you okay? Should you be somewhere else right now?”

  “All I need is a moment. This moment, in front of these monsters, like I’m looking at the entrance to hell. And the Chef Bayona meal later that I’m sure will turn my life around.”

  “Ben.” Naya needed to be the designated adult at her tour sometimes, and this was one of those moments. “I don’t know if my tour is the right place for you to be…processing what’s happened.”

  “Oh, so you know.”

  “Yeah. And I can give you your money back—“

  “What did it say?”

  “What?”

  “The news. Whatever you read. What did it say?”

  “It’s a mess.”

  “Of course it is; it’s politics. What did it say I did?”

  “It said that the office of Senator Jacqueline Buena found out about a leaked message thread, where David Alano’s camp conspired to release negative press on her private life during the campaign.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “That you, Ben, suggested an attack on her looks, her first marriage, her child.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s not a long enough article. What else did it say?”

  “That the negative campaign was killed and you never used it but now that the thread was leaked, Buena’s asking for consequences and your resignation. That Alano’s chief of staff confirmed that you gave it, last night.”

  “That’s what it said? Elmo Laranas confirms I resigned last night?”

  “How much of it is true?”

  Ben shrugged. “It’s the news. I guess it’s true.”

  “Ben,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. “Part of the reason why my tour is still just a ‘hobby’? So I don’t have to put up with shit. Don’t lie to me while you’re here.”

  “I guess you would understand, right? If I had to talk to anyone today.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You worked for PH Lens, didn’t you?”

  Yes, she did, but it wasn’t officially called “PH Lens.” That was the internal nickname for the tourism project she consulted on for years, was her best job, also her most heartbreaking one.

  Ben continued, “Of course it’s not called PH Lens now, even if the office is intact, because everyone in the steering committee is new and it was written over at some point. I would know that because David Alano was in the original committee, all those years ago, and I was already in his team then. Before the elections, of course.”

  “You know who I am. Did you know when you got in the van?”

  “No. But I figured it out when you started talking about ‘Filipino time.’ I was like, damn I’ve heard this before. I know this rant.”

  “Well.” She looked down at her shoes, then across to the monsters. Sure she did video and for years had her face in front of the camera, but this felt like a different kind of exposure. Most days, she didn’t interact with former work people. When she did, it felt like they knew a side of her that she wasn’t sure if she should hide.

  Worlds collide, and all.

  “Some days I’m that monster,” Naya said, pointing to the one with flowers growing out of its head. “Insides hanging out oddly, and still a monster.”

  “That’s beauty,” Ben said earnestly. “It’s not odd at all.”

  “Do I need to call you a car to take you home, Ben? I can do that. I think I should.”

  “No. I’m being honest here. I’d rather not be home. I’d rather be outside, looking at monsters. I’d rather talk to you. I’d rather eat a good meal before I retreat to joblessness. This is…this is nice.”

  Briefly, Naya wondered if she should loop Melly in, ask her to decide whether to ship Ben off or not. But then she pointed to a different monster. “This should be you.”

  He squinted at it. “You think.”

  It was wearing a hat and carrying a ball of fire in its hand. “We’re all still monsters but we can do it with fashion.”

  “And fire. Will you let me stay in the tour, Naya?”

  “Yes. If you behave yourself.”

  4

  Before officially joining the office of then-congressman David Alano, Ben and art galleries were not a thing. He had gone through childhood, college, law school, intermittently interning for Rep. Alano, and one year of working at a non-profit focusing on child health without stepping inside one. Then his political life began and it was like he’d been inside every single gallery in Metro Manila.

  His boss had ties with patrons of the arts, and there was always an invitation to an exhibit, a gallery, art in the park, the opera. Sometimes, on blessed days, Ben didn’t have to go, but when he went, he had to admit that he learned a few things.

  Ben wanted to live that way, wanted to think that even when he was bored out of his mind he had at least improved himself.

  David Alano was an intelligent, well-educated, principled man and still managed to not act like a prick. People born with that kind of likeability were rare. Still, Ben noticed how his boss’s demeanor changed the slightest bit, depending on his audience. How he was with a billionaire philanthropist, with generals, with the press, with his constituents. Ben picked up on subtle changes in his words, his tone, and as someone whose primary function was writing speeches, all these became useful.

  Not that he had any fun doing any of that.

  But none of that today. No art patrons to woo, no political society to schmooze. In fact, no job in politics even. Just him and art, and maybe that tour guide who was watching him like a hawk.

  There was a chair inside a red cubicle with three walls, and the sign invited him to sit. He did, so obedient of him, and he tried not to think of hygiene and all the other people who did the same thing because they too followed the sign. Sit and press the black button, it said, and the red wall in front of him came to life as light projected on it.

  Today is the day

  Today my life begins

  Today in history

  Today is holiday

  The phrases kept flashing, one after another, each one in a handwritten scrawl or elaborate cursive. Today is. Today is. Ben wasn't sure what it was supposed to accomplish, but today he had a headache. Still, he sat for the entire cycle, because he was like that. The last screen of text that flashed at him told him to go to the small desk and write down what today meant to him.

  There was a white card and a Sharpie, and Ben didn't have to think about it for very long.

  Today sucks because I suck.

  He'd find work, eventually. Shouldn't be a problem, right? Someone would have a use for a thirty-two-year-old lawyer who didn't want to be a lawyer and was formerly a speechwriter, right? He couldn't imagine just yet what or who, only that with the great many things that sucked in the world, there surely would be something for him to help fix.

  Though would that be the best thing,
because maybe he'd find himself right in this spot again.

  “We're leaving in five minutes,” Naya said, coming up behind him and already wearing her little backpack. “In case you wanted to do anything here, last minute.”

  “I'm fine.”

  “Really? Don't want to go around more?”

  “I was here at this gallery's opening and I recognize the stuff. Most of it anyway.”

  “Oh excuse me. Perhaps you need to use the bathroom?”

  “No.”

  “Or I don't know...change your Today statement?”

  “But that is how I feel about ‘today.’”

  Naya was cute when she was exasperated. He still knew better than to say that aloud. She tried to stare him down and he wasn’t sure what to say, except that he did want to get out of her way but all of the ways were hers and he couldn’t seem to get out.

  “I’m ruining the vibe today, is that it?” Ben said. “Are we supposed to be super I Love Manila hearts and rainbows?”

  “Not at all.” Something that he said must have pushed a button too, because she frowned and also stepped back, giving up on the stare-down. He didn't mean to offend her. Truth was he didn't get a lot of sleep and now that the fatigue was setting in, the words were slipping out. Leaking.

  “I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “And there's nothing wrong with hearts and rainbows.”

  “Damn right. You should know how hard it is, for a lot of people these days.”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  “You should know that it flat-out sucks for people to walk around daily knowing that they have to guard their right to live all the freaking time.”

  He winced. “I’m sorry.”

  But he started something and she wasn’t done. “You of all people should know that the strength to get up in the morning and face another trash day might be coming from knowing that there are still regular people who do great things and it helps to remind others that these people exist because we hurt them twice by being ignorant of their existence. Right?”

  “Of course. I really am sorry.”