The New Dentists

Nadine Ramos

Makati is beautiful when it rains. The rain has a way of pelting down on the fluctuating yellow street lights, and masking the ugly facades of the Makati skyline. It makes everything so surreal, so blurred and intangible. 

Steven taps the cigarette on the ashtray as the humid air of June envelopes him. 

He misses home, if anything.  

He watches as flashes of lightning illuminate various parts of the Business District. The low grumble of thunder is like an earthquake suspended in mid-air.  

Below him a sea of umbrellas and brake lights are at a standstill on the street. The street vendors cover their goods with dirty plastic bags, and the pedestrians who don’t have umbrellas seek refuge on the steps of closing buildings. 

There is a cacophony of differently-pitched car horns, rainfall, and music coming from the karaoke bars. In the neighboring apartment, he can hear the married couple fighting again, in their native tongue. They’re shouting things he can’t quite understand, not just because of the heavy downpour. 

He’d never really bothered learning the language. He knew key words. 

Jon, on the other hand, understood most of the words without meaning to: words like putang ina and puneta, words so carelessly flung about by the youth, and the couple next door. Filipinos, he thought, shaking his head slightly.  

The main reason he came to the Philippines was to write a book, about how a young man was enchanted by a young Filipina. About how the young man followed the woman, loved her, and was betrayed by her.  

He was idealistic, then. Of course, the book wasn’t as autobiographical as he made it out to be, since it was a Filipino, and he wasn’t so much as betrayed, but enlightened.  

Five years later in a not-too-shabby apartment, Steven feels a sense of joy, knowing that he wasn’t fully cheated by the one-way ticket. 

He finds fulfillment in nights like these, when he sits on his balcony and watches the rain, and writes novels in his brain about the way steam rises from the pavement and about the brass statue of a painter on the corner of the street.  

A knock on the sliding door startles him.  

“The food’s here,” Jon says. He notices the cigarette. “I thought you quit.” 

Steven puts out his cigarette. “Once a smoker, always a smoker?” He says with a slight smirk. 

Inside the apartment, Jon’s laptop lights up the room with a dull glow. “Still no electricity?” 

“No,” Jon says, handing the money to the delivery boy and setting the plastic bags on the dining table.  

“How’s the paper coming?” Steven asks, taking a seat and opening the cardboard box with a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder. He felt so American.  

“Fine,” Jon said, dipping his chicken nugget into the sauce. Jon Was taking professional training for Business in The Ateneo Center for Continuing Education campus across the street from their apartment. “I was thinking about going to Fully Booked to do some research.” 

Steven nodded, ruminating. 

“Are you writing a new book?” Jon asked, sipping from his coke. 

“No.” Steven said. “Yes.” He added, as an afterthought. “Actually. I don’t think so.” 

Jon chuckled. “I see.” 

They sat in a pregnant silence until they finished their dinner. Steven offered to do the dishes, and Jon walked purposefully to the glass-circle-stained oak table where his laptop was stationed. Outside, more horns were honked, and the rain continued its steady assault on the pedestrians.

Nadine is a fourth year high school student from Assumption College. She is a part of the student council and she used to be part of our school newspaper, but now is now part of the debate team.