The first time I saw her, she looked at me like she knew she owned me. I wish there was another way to describe that look but I would be hard pressed to find one. And well, in light of recent events, I would say that my initial description has remained faithful and I have long learned not to mess with things that has already been proven to be true. Anyway, Dana looked at me as I entered the classroom that day like I was her servant.
I remember I was excited waking up that Monday because at long last, I was going to have the chance to learn the piano after all those years of pretending. I would let my stiff, little fingers wander around the keys the way I watched in Casablanca and soon enough, by the time I was in 6th grade, I had deluded myself into believing that I am a virtuoso. It was just recently that I learned what that movie was all about but maybe I would dive into that another time. I played a piece of Bach, the one the garbage trucks in Manila play while they are backing up, in our CD player as I took a bath. My fingers, all soapy and wet, I wiggled around to the music. After getting ready and eating breakfast, I took the train to campus with the garbage piece still playing in my head.
So. I entered the room and immediately, everyone looked at me. I was late of course, so it must have been that, but I had this weird feeling in my gut, like someone was staring at me. I know everyone was looking but I could tell, it was different. She was sitting at the front and center aisle seat and she looked like she had just seen a miracle. Her hair fell like a black river down her shoulders and her skin seemed pale, unhealthy almost, like she just came out of the hospital. She was wearing brown pants and a plain white top, that even I could tell was expensive. She flashed me a smile like a ray of light through a glass of water and I felt drawn to sit beside her. That I did and that i'm regretting now.
It was weird learning piano. Or maybe because I thought that I was going to be a genius at it, and when the time came (it came early) that I didn't have a clue on how to play, how to read the notes, I was unpleasantly surprised. At the end of the third lesson, the notes and symbols were already swimming in my dreams. Dreams where the big circle notes (whole notes) ate the smaller block notes with little tails (the eight and sixteenth notes), while all the lines waved like well, uh, waves. Dana, my seatmate turned out to be real nice, so nice in fact that on her way to be the teacher's pet, she actually took me along with her as her jester. She didn't have any trouble at all with the lessons. I think that she just pretended to be piano illiterate in order to have something to do this summer. The room we had was air-conditioned, the seats were comfortable and there was the opportunity to gain friends and servants (like me). I know some people who would fake a broken leg just to get classrooms at the first floor to avoid climbing the stairs.
She would always tell me stories of back home, which was in the south, a place in Mindanao, but she wouldn't say exactly where. She said they were a family of farmers although, judging by her designer outfits, I was more inclined to think that they were hacienderos or something, which was way different from what most would think when you say you came from a family of farmers. Anyway, she told me of times in the fields, playing with the other children among the taro fields, and lying down in a hammock to sleep under the shade to pass away the siesta hours. Her definition of the siesta hours included half of the morning and most of the afternoon. All this story telling happened while I was trying to learn the difference between the G and F keys. She was nice really. She was thoughtful and sensitive and she was not snobbish or anything like that. She brought cookies she baked for our snack and she would sometimes bring sandwiches for lunch. And by God, how she loved her pearl shakes. Mocha, Caffe Latte, Cappucino, Watermelon, Peach, Mango, Ube, Halo-halo. She drank all the flavors and she would add for extra portions of the taro pearls they put in the shakes. "Reminds me of home," she said to me once while we were at the mall, trying to escape from the heat.
The classes went on and suddenly, I was faced with the realization that I was never going to be good enough to play for the movies. Or in any public perfomance for that matter. With the sessions ending fast, things began going downhill. Well for me and soon, another person, at least.
After our second to last recital, Dana and I went out to the nearest mall again. It was kinda weird to be with her that day because she was moody and irritable and that pale face of hers was even paler than before. Her hair had a slackness to it that added to my impression that she didn't have much sleep nights before. I mentioned this to her and with a weak smile she said, "I never sleep." I looked at her, my right eyebrow raised, but she dismissed it with a laugh and headed on to Zagu for a Mango Parfait grande with extra pearl. "Did you know I was vegetarian?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her mouth. I said no, you don't look like one. You look out of it, though, what's up with you? She looked at me then the way she looked at me the first day of piano class. I felt like I couldn't move and that I would die if broke contact from her eyes. It wasn't dreadful and yet it wasn't pleasant either. I just froze up and well, I was dazzled by the beauty of her face--a face that looked like a cherub carved out of marble. An angel with a straw in its mouth.
For our final project, we were assigned to pick three group mates and come up with a presentation using what we learned. Since Dana and I were already buddies, all we needed was another group mate. It didn't take her long to fish one guy out, for three reasons: 1. She was the darling of the class and the best pianist of all of us. 2. She was beautiful and all the guys were oggling her all the time (at the same time throwing dagger looks at me for obvious reason). and 3. The guy didn't have anybody else. He was the odd man out. So there we were: Dana, Me, and Rey. Rey, like I said, was the odd man out and in many ways than one. He dressed horribly, with ill-fitting jeans and he always wore plaid polos that would've looked good and decent enough on everybody else but by virtue of him being always out of place, always looked mismatched and well uh, old. He was also skinny as hell. Sometimes I would dodge his elbow as we walked for fear of being disemboweled. In contrast to him, my own skinny build looked healthy, my clothes nicely put together and my hair, combed and shampooed. In other words, I didn't want him anywhere near Dana.
We worked on the presentation for about a week until we grew tired of it and decided to just shotgun the whole thing, dismissing all the we have worked on until then. It was mostly because of Rey's shabby ideas (yes, his ideas were just as shabby as he was). With the group meetings over, I figured Dana and I would continue on doing what we were doing before but that was not the case. Our mall trips and pearl shake dates became less frequent and she became more and more quiet. At the same time though, she was looking more and more beautiful. She became less pale and more, it seemed to me, alive. Meanwhile, I had more practice time and well, I had Bach's garbage song down pat before the final recital.
The day of our presentation, Rey was dressed impeccably. He wasn't shabby Rey anymore and seemed to have got a sense of himself and some confidence. He spoke forcefully yet with eloquence and I, on retrospect, had performed poorly. I stammered and I betrayed the fact that I'm just a junior rather than the piano virtuoso I was pretending to be. Dana was Juno herself. She radiated with a presence unmatched by any of our classmates and her words seemed to be secure in knowing that she was the queen of the gods, second only to Jove, master of thunder.
Wearing a long black dress, her skin appeared almost translucent like china.
The presentation over, I walked over to Dana and gave her a hug. I shook Rey's hand then I headed out the door. Everyone had left and I was already near the building exit when I realized that I was being followed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I quickened my pace. I had this feeling that somebody was staring at me and well, it was paralyzing. The night outside was like a blanket--thick and suffocating. There was no wind and there were no stars. The silence around me was broken by a familiar voice.
"You're in a hurry."
I turned around and I saw Dana. I almost smiled but then I checked myself when I saw Rey standing right behind her. "Let's celebrate first." she said, her eyes inviting. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Sam?" I was too pleasantly surprised to say no and so I let her lead me, her hand clutching at my elbow. We went back to our classroom and it was exciting to see that they had a bottle of wine chilling in a small cooler, ready to be served. There were a few plastic cups there and I remember thinking that it really was the height of cool when you're in college, inside a classroom at night and drinking red wine in plastic cups.
"You wouldn't tell on me, would you?"
It was then that I knew it was her plan. It was her celebration. I looked at her and there it was again, that look of owning. I smiled at her and I felt an understanding pass between us. Rey seemed out of this room. Out of this world even. It was like he didn't matter. Dana then took her seat on the piano. As she started playing, all I could think of was that even if I couldn't play the piano like that, it would be enough just to hear her playing. The melody and the notes seemed to filter from the piano into the air, into the body and into the air again. Her hands were hypnotizing to watch. They were small and nimble and fast and slow at the same time. She ended the piece and we all stared at the bottle of wine. Rey then took out those little red swiss knives and began to twist into the cork. Dana looked excited and she smacked her crimson lips wih delight. Rey pulled the cork and the cork split. The corkscrew cut Rey's hand, between the index and the thumb of the left hand.
"Oh! Did you hurt yourself? Let me take care of that for you," she said. She walked over to him and then the night grew darker, definitely darker, in my eyes.
She walked over to him, looked at his bleeding hand then kissed it the way mothers do to the wounds of their children. And then she started to lick the blood flowing there ever so softly. She looked at her prey and then at me. What I saw in those eyes, I was ready for and once again I felt the understanding bind us. I saw again in my mind's eye her pale face, slowly turning pink, her hair as black as death, and her eyes the first time I saw her.
With Rey fading beneath her, I pushed down the cork still remaining into the bottle with my finger and poured myself a glass of the red liquid. I raised Dana a toast, she was almost finished, and everything became clear to me: She was the queen and I am her fool.
