A Virus of Everything

By Paul Mathews

A new virus was sweeping the globe. How far would it challenge or sweep aside the endless diseases of desire, of human yearnings—of love, lust, passion, greed, ambition, selfishness, and calamities of poverty, tempest and soullessness?
Mark was soul sick. Once again he was alone, and hence vulnerable. His psyche was howling for a new role in life he could call his own, his soul was screaming to be loved and nurtured. It was at this point that he excavated his own life from the dismal heap of circumstances that surrounded him. Free to spend hours every night chatting to Asian girls on-line in search of a loving companion, he finally met poor Annie, both cute and endearing. He flew to her arms, befriended her family, sent her to college, bought her land, paid expenses.... A year of bliss. Then she changed, for the worse, but he was infected by her poison. A litany of demands followed. He began his search again, and again... Five years later a new virus swept the globe. Annie was in trouble: a pandemic, a typhoon, death, floods that were meant to wash away the virus, brought him back to her. Nonetheless, once again he was alone. All he could have were memories past. Love, it seemed, was a virus, and he was still not immune.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warrior Publishers
• Release date: Mar 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005020989

Paul Mathews

Dr. Paul Mathews is an anthropologist and sociologist who has worked on Philippine issues for 25 years, and also spent 2 years in Taiwan. He has written extensively about Philippine society and culture in such areas as health, gender relations and sexuality, values, and economic development. He is currently freelancing, following a Research Fellowship at the Australian National University. He is Secretary of the Philippine Studies Association of Australasia, and former Managing Editor of Pilipinas, A Journal of Philippine Studies.

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A Virus of Everything

Paul W. Mathews

Copyright 2022 Paul W. Mathews

Published in Australia by Warrior Publishers (Canberra) at Smashwords

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The moral right of the author & publisher has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing of the publisher or author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published & without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

FICTION

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Cover design by Dr. Paul W. Mathews

The grim procession. The Masque of the Red Death, motion picture (screen-shot) by Roger Corman, 1964. Original short story by Edgar Allan Poe, 1842.

Poe’s story follows Prince Prospero’s attempts to avoid a dangerous plague, known as the Red Death, by hiding in his abbey, along with many other wealthy nobles. While no artifice can prevent the inevitability of Fate, whether it be a virus, a plague, a disease, a flood, or love, passion, ambition, failure, loneliness, there are many who seek to deny or defy these Fates.

Table of Contents

Glossary

Chapter One. In The End…. November 2016

Chapter Two. Survival in the Barrio. October 2011- March 2012

Chapter Three. Educating Annie. May 2012

Chapter Four. Maid to Slave. May – June 2012

Chapter Five. Land, School, and a Birthday. June to November 2012

Chapter Six. Break-up. 2013

Chapter Seven. Shielo. October 2013 – 2014

Chapter Eight. Break-up II. May – September 2014

Chapter Nine. Skye. September – October 2014

Chapter Ten. In Need of a Girlfriend. October 2014

Chapter Eleven. Still Searching a New Girlfriend.

November 2014 – February 2015

Chapter Twelve. No Show. April – May 2015

Chapter Thirteen. Lies, Damned Lies, and More Lies. May 2015 – June Plus

Chapter Fourteen. They Had It Coming. November 2016

Other books by Warrior Publishers

Glossary

ako = I/me

anak = son or daughter

artista = artist; flamboyant/dramatic performer

asawa = spouse (husband or wife)

até = aunt, or aunt equivalent term of respect

ba = suffix for asking a question

babae = female/woman

babaero = playboy/womanizer

bahala (na) = it’s up to you/God/fate, whatever happens

bakla = transvestite/transgender

balik = return, (come) back

baliw = crazy

banca = (small, motorized) outrigger boat

barang = curse, spell

barkada = small group of special friends

barong = traditional male loose-fitting, light shirt

barrio = village

bobo = stupid

bola bola = teasing

brb = be right back

bruha = witch

bukas = tomorrow

chic-boy = playboy/womanizer

daga = rat

diba/dba = isn’t it/isn’t that right

Emperador = brandy, mildly alcoholic, in 1 liter bottles

engkanto = powerful supernatural (white) being

gwapa/o = beautiful (woman/man)

hindi ako mata pobre = I am not ashamed to eat/be with poor people

HRM = Hospitality and Restaurant Management

HRU = How are you ?

kaibigan = friend

kano = American (Amerikano)

kerida = mistress

kumpare = best friend, usually the godfather to one’s child

kuripot = stingy

kuya = brother

lamok = mosquito

lasing = drunk

load = cell phone credit

lol = laugh out loud

lola/lolo = grand-mother/father

longanisa = sweet/savoury Filipino sausage

mabait = good, kind

mahal = expensive

makapal = thick skinned

makulit/kulit = annoying, mischievous

malaki = big

mana = a term of respect to an elder female, usually a sister

matagal = late, taking a long time

mayabang = pretentious

McDoo = McDonald’s

merienda = snack, afternoon break

morena = (dark) brown/blackish

naku/ay naku = Oh my god! An exclamation of surprise/frustration

naman = a general expression to show a mild to strong exclamation of one's feelings

nanay/’nay = mother

NTMU = nice to meet you

Oo/uu = yes

pandasal = small bread pieces

pangit/panget = ugly

pasalubong = gift

patay = dead

pera = money

pilya = cheeky, mischievous

pogi = handsome (male)

probensyana = a girl from the rural provinces (derogatory)

provincia = province/provincial

puta = promiscuous woman; prostitute

saan = where?

sala = lounge room; sofa

sari-sari = small grocery store

saya = skirt (under the saya = a man dominated by a woman)

shumei = small dumpling-type food

sip-sip = fawn compliments and platitudes

sumpong = moody

Sus/susmaryosep = A contraction of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Usage: An interjection, especially when one is angry, frustrated, or in disbelief. The shorter versions, Sus! and Maryosep! may also be used.

tala/tala-tala = crazy, mad

talaga = really, seriously

tamad = lazy

tao = person/people (common folk)

tatay/’tay = father

tintin = thin

tulog = sleep/ing

utang = debt

UTI = urinary tract infection

wak-wak = witch

WB = welcome back

w/ = with

yaya = baby sitter

YM = Yahoo Messenger

Chapter One

In The End…. November 2016

Has it come to this…?

There was horror, ringed with disbelief, in Annie’s voice. A handkerchief remained clamped on her nose and mouth as she tried to contain a threatening cascade of tears. The putrid smell of rotting garbage and dead animals—dogs, goats, cats, pigs, chickens, everything except the ducks and geese that were born to water and could fly—that caught her sight every where she looked assailed her nostrils each time she lifted her handkerchief slightly to gasp for air.

Is this really our place, Ma? a small voice squeaked, as she felt her 4 year old son’s hand pulling on her forearm. Maybe we lost?

No, David, we’re not lost. This is the place. It used to be our place… Lola’s and Lolo’s place.

Yes, it is, Mark affirmed. I can still recognize the foundations of your grandfather’s house, under all that rubble, he pointed out in front of them as he waved buzzing flies from his face. We need to get across that fish pond, to have a closer look.

He took a few tentative steps forward, to lead the way to what used to be the home of Annie, her parents and four brothers.

Annie felt as though something blocked her throat. She failed to recognize anything familiar in this place, save perhaps for the narrow, short canal that used to drain her father’s main fishpond, which was now silted with soft black mud.

It’s impossible to go that way. Here, she indicated to the right, I think that’s the canal, from the pond. Remember, we used to cross over it?

She took David by the hand and led him to what Mark sensed rather than could see the old walk-way that had led to Annie’s home, getting some sense of their bearing from a sold wood lamp-post still standing. It was indeed the right direction; they could make out the pond-drain, now silted, and leaping across that, they finally stepped into an open area covered in baked, black clay. They stood at the back of what had been her parents’ house, and before them, her grandfather’s; they could see bits of the solid concrete slab jutting from much of the debris on top of it, and mostly in front of that they stared over the fishponds, now full of debris that was caught in the flood.

The house had been a small structure, before, Mark fondly recalled, of one room with a solid, thick concrete floor, with a small cooking area in one corner, protected by an aqua-green trellis and bamboo-slat walls, and a nipa roof. It doubled as the parents’ bedroom at night, at which time they slung down a rather ragged double mattress that had been propped against the back wall. Part of the building, too, was a washing area with a water pump and a very old washing machine that amazingly had still worked. It had been at least five years since he had last seen it.

Next to that had been a small bathroom, also with a concrete floor and a toilet, partitioned only by a flimsy curtain that blew in the wind, and replete with tinea fungus.

Outside had been a small leaky canopy under which one could sit to enjoy any cool air and survey the neighborhood and ponds, and which was furnished with an old, long wooden bench and smallish square table for meals and drinking sessions, of which there had been many. But now, all that was gone but for the thick concrete floor.

That floor, Ann reminded him, has withstood years of flooding, ever since my grandfather. Ann smiled with happy memories.

I know, you told me once before. And it’s still standing today, after this one.

They turned to look to their right, where Annie’s and the boys’ bedrooms had been in a separate building. It had been a traditional nipa hut, built on 3-foot high bamboo stilts, consisting of essentially three rooms and a dirt ground floor, set apart from the other building by twenty feet of brown dust in the summer and slippery mud in the wet season.

Before the storm.

Because she was the only girl among the siblings Annie had her own bedroom that she had furnished with cheap cloth to hide the bare walls. It was a small room, about 6 feet by 10, with a nipa roof, and bamboo-slat floor and walls, the latter patched over with plywood, and with no window or effective ventilation. Her bed had been a thin foam mattress on the creaky slat floor, under which the chickens often roosted or the dogs and goats slept. It was crammed with her limited clothing hung upon a string across one wall, and her other scarce belongings stuffed in plastic draws or precariously perched wherever space and shelving could be had. Dominating the room had been a large black metal trunk that contained the sole possessions of her deceased grandfather, now having been swept away in the rushing waters, to be forgotten by history. The room had had a rickety plywood door with a latch for privacy, outside of which her brothers slept on a bare slat floor covered at night with a blanket and mosquito nets.

Now, the ground was bare of any structure; all that they could observe was flotsam washed down by the river that had fed the ponds, and eventually trickled its way to the northern most reaches of Manila Bay.

Nothing, Mark unnecessarily observed. All gone; just our memories. Even the Socorro house has gone, completely gone.

The Socorro family, consisting of Eugene’s best friend and his wife, Ligaya, with three very young boys—who seldom went to school because they had no money, shoes or clothes—were like squatters. Their house had been even smaller than Ann’s, comprising of one room, flimsy at best, literally perched on an embankment of a pond.

They should never have opened the dam, Ann commiserated.

Maybe they thought they could wash the virus away, Mark contemplated. But now, nothing, and we don’t even know where your family is.

We should look for them, here, in the house, Ann suggested.

Too dangerous, hun. We can try to have a look from the outside, but not go in under that rubble.

Ann and Mark, with David in close tow, nudged around the mounds of debris—timber beams, sheets of tin, coconut trees, plastics of all kinds, garbage and bushes and branches—trying to see under and through it all, calling out, Nay!, or Tatay!

Ma, David asked, you were born here, Ma?

Yes, anak, I was born here, and I grew up here, she said softly. Over there, near that large pond, and she pointed lamely with her hand to where her bedroom had once stood. You don’t remember, anak? You stay here with Lola and Lolo, na.

He shook his head. The house and surroundings were so devastated that David could not comprehend the place he had so frequently visited, where his grandmother, Annalyn’s mother, had looked after him.

There, she pointed up the narrow roadway, to a distant rise, is our house anak. You see?

He shook his head again. He had no sense of geography yet, and all the familiar signs of location had been destroyed.

So that’s your house, up there, on the rise? Mark clarified.

Yes, it survived, thanks be to the Lord. Tatay was tying down the roof when we left. I don’t know what happen to them.

She swallowed, not only to make that awful smell that she imagined clung to her tongue disappear, but also to suppress the sobs throbbing in her throat.

The sadness she felt when her grandfather had died almost 25 years before overcame her. But now, poking about his old home, where she herself had grown up, her despair was occasioned by this heart-rending scene that signified the death of her birth place.

After a few minutes of careful peaking and poking Mark suggested they walk up to her own house to inspect it, and see if anyone was there, or failing that to try to find some other neighbours around, if they had survived, who might be able tell them what happened to Annie’s family.

They tentatively trudged up the road amongst the debris to Annie’s house of stone. It stood secure, the doors still sandbagged, the tin roof securely tied down with ropes. Mark and Annie banged on the door and called out, and tried to look through the windows, but they all were taped or shuttered. Not a sound responded.

Nothing, Annie. Let’s go. We can try again later.

They went back the way they had come to a waiting trike they had hired. The long winding road down from Malolos to the barrio had always been very narrow and pot-holed, and it was almost miraculous they had made it to the end, having to stop three or four times so Mark and the driver could remove debris from their path. Now they set off once again to traverse the obstacle-course back to town, stopping occasionally when they saw another person to ask if they had any news about Ann’s family; but none had any information, only suggesting they go to a disaster centre in Malolos City.

Maybe we can go to my Aunt’s house, Annie suggested. She might know where my father is?

"We can try, I guess. But I wonder if she survived, because her house is on low land."

I know, But it’s made of stone, and has upstairs, Ann said hopefully, although she didn’t particularly like Aunty Abu, the sister of her father. The land on which Ann and her family had lived was rent-free, having belonged to Ann’s grandfather but passed down to Tatay’s sister, Abu, who allowed them to stay in the two buildings and supervise the fishing of the ponds. But this arrangement was also a sticking point, for Ann’s aunt, Abu, the landowner, commonly disputed the account of the fish harvest and frequently threatened the family—her own close relatives—with expulsion.

Abu of course didn’t want to deal with cultivating the land; she had years ago married a rather wealthy Chinese mestizo, whom Ann referred to as Uncle Buddha, for obvious reasons. They lived in an ostentatious house of brick and concrete several kilometres from Ann’s family, and from which Uncle Buddha did his political and fiscal wheeling and dealing, as well as operate a barely legitimate wholesale pharmaceutical drug business.

It took some 20 minutes through cluttered narrow streets to arrive at Abu’s and Buddha’s house, which stood out clearly amongst the devastated shanties around it. One could hardly miss the bright pink of the former edifice, for it too had been severely damaged, despite being made of stone.

Is this lola’s house Ma? David asked somewhat excited as he recognized the pink.

Yes, anak.

We will see lola!

Ann and Mark looked at one another, thinking the same thing.

Maybe she’s not home, anak. Mark will go see. We wait here, ok.

Mark alighted from the trike and moved cautiously up the littered path to the iron gate, which was now hanging precariously from a partially toppled pillar of the wall. It was open, so he squeezed through and approached the house, noting the lower windows had been smashed, some with debris sticking into, or out of, them. As he moved around one side he could readily see the roof had collapsed into the upper level. He doubted anyone would be living in such conditions. Nevertheless, he called out to Abu several times. Not getting any response he turned to head back when someone inside called him back.

Sir! Sir!

Oh, hi. I didn’t think anyone was here, he responded.

The girl, pretty and young, perhaps 20 years old, shook her head. Then rattled something off in Tagalog.

"English girl, I can’t understand you," he demanded gently.

No English me, she shook her head again.

Oh, ok. Lola Abu, saan? Where Abu?

’Mergency centraaal, she yelled with a drawn-out accent, pointing toward the town.

Wait, he told her and put up his palm. Balik ako. I come back. Wait.

Mark quickly went to the gate and beckoned Annie to come. She hastened up the path with David.

Ask her who she is and where is everyone, hun, he told Annie. Her English is not very good.

Annie entered the compound and nearing what used to be the beautiful house, called the girl to explain what had happened. Following a three-minute babbling chat, which seemed to Mark more like ten minutes, Annie just turned back, saying, Let’s go.

Go? Go where? What did she say?

To Malolos. Emergency centre.

They climbed into the trike, and Annie gave instructions to head back to the City.

So, what’s happened? Who is she?

She’s a maid, a new maid, I’ve never seen her before. She’s looking after the house.

And….? Mark pushed. Sometimes it was easier to get blood out of a stone than get Ann to explain things fully.

The storm, Mark, the house destroy. Aunty is in the Centre, she said.

"Sus! Well, that is news. It will be a big step down for her, diba."

"Susmaryosep! Annie muttered, which was the longer version of his ‘sus’. How did it come to this?"

I think I know that girl, from somewhere, Mark ruminated aloud as they moved off toward the city. She has bad teeth. Did she tell you her name, hun?

Nika. I don’t know her.

Chapter Two

Survival in the Barrio. October 2011- March 2012

Annie and Mark had met several years earlier, in October 2011. Both were signed into some cupid site, and Mark took a bit of a fancy to her, although he didn’t really expect anything to come of their recent virtual relationship—seldom do any of these girls actually meet in real.

But Ann was sitting on her bed, an old foam mattress slung on a floor of worn bamboo slats, with several soft toys lining the wall. Dressed only in blue shorts and a skimpy white tank-top that publicized her developed but small breasts, her face touched a little with cosmetics and her lips with a dull red lipstick, she crouched in front of her computer monitor in the dim light of a bare bulb and whatever flashed on the screen. She seemed bored, having no one to chat with for a while, and unsmiling. It was 8pm.

Mark logged-in and texted in the message section, Hi, hru?—cyber-text for ‘how are you?’

WB, she replied, as a standard cyber answer.

‘Welcome back’ because Mark had met Ann the previous night. He had been surfing this site for a few weeks, always hoping to meet a pretty girl who per chance might meet with him in real and develop a relationship together, even though he might be twenty years older.

She had been friendly the previous night, although not very talkative, and like this night she seemed bored; she had to be coaxed into giving a glimpse of a smile. Mark didn’t think she was overly attractive compared to some of the sex-pot dolls he had seen on the site, but she was cute and attractive enough, and could look sexy. More importantly for Mark was that she was quietly friendly and willing to talk.

You busy? Marked asked via text.

No people.

I see… So you want some company?

It’s up to you.

You look bored.

No people, she simply repeated.

You never smile….How come you never smile?

Nothing to smile about. She couldn’t understand why a foreigner would think she had something to smile about.

I bet I can make you smile. She gave a hint of a smile.

Mark kept her company for an hour, trying to draw out snippets of her life, making a joke when opportunity arose, she eventually relenting with a real but brief smile.

Tell me then, hun, where do you work?

With my até , you know that? Auntie. The sister to my father.

Oh, that’s good. What kind of work?

Maid.

So you live in your boss’ house?

"No! she exclaimed with indignation. I not live-in maid. Just go when she call me, nearly every day."

At 9pm she abruptly said she had to have dinner.

Ok, so I’ll visit tomorrow night, if you want, if you want some company.

Ok, is all she replied rather indifferently.

But what Mark did not know the next night, and every subsequent night for several weeks, was that Annie quietly waited for Mark. She was glad to have some company when she had no one else to chat with, for she was truly bored and lonely, and Mark had seemed friendly and not abusive or denigrating of her. In fact, within a short time she told him as much. Their relationship on-line developed quickly; she was soon smiling and laughing, and within a week or two calling him ‘hunni’ in reciprocation to Mark using that term.

He had over this time learned of her age, her living situation and family, her work, her education, and how long she had been on the site, and why.

Annalyn Valdez was barely 19, having graduated from high school only a month before, in September 2011. Her family of four brothers and her two parents, living among the fish ponds of Bulacan, were poor by any standard.

Ann, or Annie, Anna—as she was commonly and affectionately known, for ‘Annalyn’ was used only when someone was angry with her—stood at five-feet-two, with long black hair, typical of many Pinays, that almost reached down to her small buttocks. She was slim, to say the least, indeed perhaps too slim, and her legs especially were tintin: skinny. Surprisingly, her breasts were well formed on her small frame, and overall she could be quite petite with a few added pounds.

While she considered herself ‘black’, as is common in the provincia of the Philippines, she was what foreigners might call and admire a nice bronze-brown, morena; indeed, the remainder of her family, and her neighbors, were much darker.

Ann had black-pearl eyes, roundish-almond in shape, and a nose neither typically flared nor wide, but with a hint of Spanish in style and length. Her lips were thin and her smile wide, showing even, white teeth, and a firm squared chin graciously marked by a barely noticeable dimple, all set on a head that was a little oval-shaped. She was indeed cute, indeed even attractive.

But the most stunning feature of Ann, and one that reflected much of her attitude and behaviour as a little mischievous (pilya or makulit), was her ability to pull faces, all the while keeping her youthful beauty. Ann had a natural ability to distort her face in such subtle and not so subtle ways to present happiness, sadness, fear, disgust, fun, coyness, disdain, dismay, curiosity, laughter. She could pout her lips, puff her cheeks and frown to appear ugly and horrified or angry, or purse her lips wide and squint her eyes to make her look happy and naughty, or perhaps even sexy. At other times she would open her eyes wide, pull her upper lip down just a fraction, exposing her snorting nostrils to present as disapproving. Ann had a thousand-and-one expressions, she was a girl of many faces, all of which were very photogenic.

She was mostly quiet and demure, except in interactions with her family, when she could be as outspoken as the rest of them and as loud as her mother, who tended to consistently shout even though one might be right next to her.

She was the only daughter and middle child of the family. Atoy, the youngest boy, tall and lanky, was 14, above whom was a very handsome Jarrod at 16 years of age. Her elder brothers were Gerald at age 20, and George 21 years old. All were at school, except the eldest, who had recently graduated from college and was looking for work, possibly abroad.

Every night at about the same time Mark and Annie video and text-chatted on-line. He soon began to feel something special about Annie, but he did not want to jeopardize their growing feelings for one another by so easily pushing his desires.

After a few weeks of chatting about what each of them had done during the day, or family affairs and other small talk, during which Mark did most of the talking and questioning, with short single syllable answers from Annie, Mark began to explore what Annie’s life plans were. At the moment she didn’t do much at all; everything was centred around her family, most especially, and her work, which was a means—and at times the sole means—of supporting her brothers and parents. She commonly started work about 9am or 10am and finished at 8pm or sometimes later, but always on-call, depending on what her Aunty-boss, Abu, wanted. She slept in till late if she could, then loitered about the house and barrio, doing nothing in particular, occasionally accompanying her mother to the markets 20 minutes away by trike.

As usual, after a few weeks, Mark logged-on and clicked directly to Annie’s space.

Hi hunni, howz things?

I’m cold hunni, she said. It’s raining, big rain and wind.

Oh, must be from that typhoon over the Philippines, up north.

"That’s why I want a house of stone hunni, so we don’t get flood. Naku! The roof leaking. Tatay trying to fix," she typed in her abbreviated English.

I see…. Hunni, I been thinking, I’d like to meet you in real….if you want.

Mark was being very gentle in his suggestive request, for he knew most cupid girls didn’t meet in real.

Where? was her monosyllable but nevertheless positive response.

In your town, then we can go to a beach resort for a few days.

What we do there?

Go to the beach, swim, eat, relax, whateva… We can make love at night…. Here Mark tried to gauge how she felt about a more intimate relationship.

Ahahhhahaa she wrote, with a big smile and giggle. You cant because im not your girl friend or wife, she laughed through text and emoticons.

It’s up to you. I told you I will be honest with you… I wanna have a fun time on holiday with a nice girl, and want to make love to her….if you have a problem with that, its ok. We can still be just friends.

Mark had already told Annie that he was single and may be looking for a girlfriend, or at least a travel companion.

Yeah i know, but im not a prostitute, she cried.

I know you’re not a prostitute hun… I never thought of you like that.

But u want sex me with no status relation, meaning she and he had to love each other and be girl-boyfriend, in the least, which Mark thought of as tautological.

I just thought if we can have a nice holiday together, we can be like bf/gf for a while…mmm... well I will come back to the Philippines again this year, maybe for a longer time.

Ok.

Mark wasn’t quite sure what Annie meant by this monosyllable response, if she was simply acknowledging him visiting the Philippines or something more intimate.

So, why are you on this site? he asked to re-direct the subject.

Same. Meet nice man. Maybe he take me away from this shit!

Ok. I see. I want to be friends also… You know, I can go to a bar and get a girl, but I don't know her… I thought we could be friends first here on this site, then go together...that's why I ask you many questions, to know you as a person.

Oo, which is the typical Filipino way of saying ‘yes’. ….‪I want to give u a chance dear but not in there…the beach resort…‪near in my place only?‬‬‬… ‎ ‪can u?‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Where?

Palladium hotel u stay and i come to u there‬‬…in my town near my home.

Oh ok. And then, at the hotel? Then what?‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Knowing each other, make love haha‬, she teased.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

How about Makati, in Manila?‬‬‬‎ ‪Bellagio Hotel, you stay one night?‬‬‬ ‎ ‪We eat and go to some bars, enjoy the night life?‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

"No!" she‬‬‬ said, emphatically.‬‬‬

Ok. But I am confused... ‬‬‎ ‪You don’t want to go to the resort and sex‬‬‬‎, ‪but you will go to your town and sex?‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

I need to know u lol‬‬‬.‎ ‪not easy to have sex to u‬‬‬.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Ok, ‎ ‪I don’t want sex with a girl if she’s not ok with it‬‬‬.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

I go eat.

This sudden departure left Mark wondering; but at least it seemed Annie was willing to meet him; what would follow remained to be seen.

The following night they again chatted, as the bad weather persisted and the roof continued to leak. Hence much of the conversation was about the wind and the rain, and pending floods, and Annie’s burning ambition to have a house of stone.

Several more weeks of chatting ensued, during which time Mark gained Annie’s trust, vowing respect for her, her culture and family, and offering if possible to help them within his means, but first, of course, he had to meet her and the family. By this time, also, each of them had started to fall in love. Several times Annie had expressed her earnest desire for a house of stone, as she phrased it, because as a younger girl she had been terrified by the storms tearing at the flimsy nipa hut in which she and her brothers slept.

On one night she broached the subject again, extracting a promise from Mark that, if he wanted to be her boyfriend, then he had to build her a house of stone. He mentally likened this to slashing his way through a field of thorns to rescue this damsel. He teased her that he would build her a castle and she would be his Princess.

But Mark, of course, had only promised to consider it once he had met her. And so over the next few weeks they planned for a meeting in real, and amidst much romantic and now even mild sexual cooing they began to count down the number of days to Mark’s departure from Melbourne, his arrival in Manila, and following within a day or two his one-hour bus trip to Annie’s provincial town, Malolos.

She planned to meet him at the Palladium resort there, with her mother, spend some time with him,