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Kalis Marco S, M.R.B
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Kara kruz: the mommy returns (1st palkat)

01/01/2019


Kara Kruz: The Mommy Returns (1st palkat)

Kalis Marco S, M.R.B.


I have to walk away from certain… vulnerabilities.
-Kara Danvers, Supergirl S3, E6



Part VI, Da Formula 6

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is based on true events and confessions during tita Judge Aramina’s trials and tribulations. Names, places, and events are slightly modified and altered not to sensationalize but to hide the true personae of the characters and any similarities to your real life experiences are purely accidental, co-incidental, and unintended. Peks man, cross my heart and hope to die. Discretion is strongly advised as some readers might find the contents just a little suggestive.

(N.B., still unable to write the sequel of this never-ending story, Tita Judge Aramina again requested that I write it, because not only that she is overly encumbered with her duties as the Vice President, just like tita Kara Danvers, tita Judge Aramina has to walk away too from certain… vulnerabilities?)


Be careful what you wish for
-an old idiom, saying, or curse


Felicitación.

It was my daycare titser at UP-IB, University of Prinston, International Baccalaureate program, it was Professor Sally who a week before Christmas two years ago warned us about wishing for something:

Children, be careful what you wish for this coming Christmas, and be ready to face the consequences if you don’t get what you wish for… or, if you actually get it.

Ha? Consequences?

I did not think then that Christmas could be so complicated especially for the adults. So many questions. What am I going to buy for that co-worker, or gelpren, or boypren, husband, wife, or… kabit? Will that person like my gift? Or will it be used, probably discarded, or… regifted? Will the re-giftee like it? What if at some point of the regifting cycle I’d receive it as a re-gift… will I like it?

So many questions. So much anxiety during Christmas.

But not for my daddy Marco San, a pure GI, Genuine Ilocano. He knows exactly what to give each Christmas. Something that could be useful. What’s the point of giving silver and gold to a shivering and hungry newborn, he’d scoff everytime he’d hear that Christmas song, why not give him some clothing and baby formula for pete’s sake.

My mommy Miss Brenda San would call my daddy Marco San the fifth wise man. A true Ilocano sage. Especially when my daddy Marco San bought packs of socks from Costco, 2 packs of 9 pairs I presume, and each year he’d wrap two pairs as my gift.


Well, there was really nothing for me to wish for, I was warm and fully fed each day. I’d say a very comfortable life indeed. I have an Ilocano kurip… eh, a very financially sagacious Ilocano daddy and a very loving and understanding Ilocana mommy. She would always recognize and express her happiness everytime I accomplish something, even when I was still inside her tummy:

“Look Marco San! Our baby is moving! And he can kick like Jet Li the dragon emperor!”

I’d say my daddy Marco San is a good provider. If he was a farmer just like his amang, my grandfather, my grand-amang in Dingras, he’d wake up at 4 am and he’d drive his carabao to the ricefield. But since his field of work is at UP, University of Prinston, my daddy Marco San would drive my mommy’s mini-cooper and would drop me off at the daycare inside UP.

My daddy Marco San also provided or gifted me a toy which apparently he won at a raffle in a Pittcon in New Orleans. Pittsburgh conference: A skeleton. A science school skeleton.

(He also apparently met my tita Ariana for the first time at that Pittcon in New Orleans)

For some odd reason, my daddy Marco San put that skeleton in my walk-in closet… and irony of ironies (or metaphor of metaphors), that’s where tita Ariana and I would spend a lot of time together, with the skeleton inside my walk-in closet.


Well, because one day, the door bell rang and standing outside our door was the doorbell ringer, tita Ariana with her luggages. She needed a place to stay because apparently, she was hiding or running away:

“And you are…?” my mommy asked while carrying me.

“Ariana, Ariana Siddiqi, I am a friend of Don Huan de Marco San, we met at New Orleans, I need a place to stay, I am in danger.”

“Don Huan de Marco San?”

“Oh, that was my username at the Pittcon in New Orleans, Brenda.” My daddy Marco San sheepishly explained while blushing and scratching his nape.

So, to summarize, the gift skeleton and tita Ariana arrived in my life that year, both from New Orleans.


Well, being an understanding Ilocana mommy, my mommy Miss Brenda accepted tita Ariana in our home. She was actually quite happy that my tita Ariana would be with me while she was at her flight attendantship job. Tita Ariana occupied the guest room adjacent to my room; we shared the same restroom.

My mommy Miss Brenda’s happiness was not shared though by my lola, grandma Pacing, my mommy’s mommy. Grandma Pacing would come to Princeton each summer and would go home once she feels the first sign of chill; she does not like cold weather.

Horror of horrors! That’s probably what my grandma Pacing had felt when she arrived from the Philippines and found tita Ariana sleeping with me in my room:

HesusMaryaKosep!

Or Probably grandma Pacing was horrified at the sight of the skeleton in my walk-in closet. Or probably, she was more horrified with the thought that there was another woman in the house while my mommy Miss Brenda was doing her flight attendantship. Hmn, territorial… a little protective of the territory eh.

Then of course, the following year, tita Ariana’s tummy grew larger. What da?

Horror of horrors! My grandma Pacing was so horrified to learn that tita Ariana was pregnant she decided to stay that winter, braving the chilly days, probably hoping for a revelation. She did not share my Mommy and my Daddy’s belief that it was Immaculate Conception.

My Grandma Pacing thought something was… odd. Especially that evening when my daddy Marco San and tita Ariana were decorating the Christmas tree. Hmn… tita Ariana decorating a Christmas tree.

Well, tita Ariana is not Catholic. She wears a hijab.

And to make that evening more memorable, my daddy Marco San decided to throw some firewood in our fireplace and then he lit the firewood. So my grandma Pacing had some extra warmth during our supper.

We were having dinner when suddenly there was a strong smell of… something burning! Smoke was billowing from our living room!

The plastic Chistmas tree that was decorated by my daddy Marco San and tita Ariana caught fire? It was not even saleng or real pine tree.

“Fire! Brenda, call 9-1-1!”

So my mommy Miss Brenda dialed 9-1-1 on her smartphone, my grandma picked me up, and my daddy Marco San wrapped tita Ariana with a blankie and we all rushed out of the house.

We all gathered in front of our house, my mommy Miss Brenda was talking to someone at the 9-1-1. Then passersby started to look at us, a few of them gasped, some made the sign of the cross:

“O my God, this is a miracle on a Princeton street!”

They were looking at tita Ariana being supported by my daddy Marco San; pregnant, wrapped in blanket and tita Ariana’s hijab glowing like a white aura, like tita Sensei Jessica Henwick’s iron feet. The reflective hijab was bought for her by my daddy Marco San so that she would be visible everytime we go pokemon hunting during the night.

A glow in the dark hijab.

Passersby probably thought they were watching the Belen, the Nativity; the pregnant Mother Mary being held by Father Joseph. And then suddenly, there was a glow coming from our roof top:

“Look! It’s a glowing bright star!”

“No… more like… Rudolph’s glowing red nose!”

“Na-a, is that… Supergirl… or… Superman!”

Then Superman waved. “Hi, I am your local fireman. I am trying to extract this hippopotamus that’s wedged and blocking your chimney. That’s why smoke is flooding your living room.”

Hippo… O My God!

Then I noticed Grandma Pacing looking at me. She appeared… nonplussed, I could sense her disapproval of the Nativity scene, but she asked instead:

“Did you wish for a hippopotamus for Christmas balong?”

Muah? Hippo? Na-ah!

Why would I wish for a hippopotamus? Not me. Of course it’s that kid that’s always singing in that radio station!

He could have wished for a smaller gift like a Winnie the Pooh bear, or a plastic smartphone… but nooo, he wants a hippopotamus. How inconsiderate! Santa Claus is already over-encumbered with millions of gift to distribute around the world, that kid expected Santa Claus to carry a hippopotamus too?


Then ate Alma pointed at what I was typing the other day, giggling she said:

“Well, Kal-EL, you must know by now there are several Santas in the world that can deliver gifts, they are in every mall where you can have a picture with him too, they are in every children’s Christmas party, there are probably thousands of them. There is even Obama Santa in Washington DC.”

Hmn. Good point.

But that’s not the point! The point is, Santa dropped the hippopotamus at the wrong address…in our chimney.

We suffered smoke inhalation as a consequence!



Kalis Marco San, M.R.B. ©2019







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