"What's up with Boris?"
"Nothing. You know him, he's way too busy to help out his old dad and way too important to be anyone's servant." He threw both his hands at the door like he was bidding good riddance to an unexpected and unwelcome visitor.
The back hallway of the restaurant was poorly lighted and the door was not even remotely tight so when Steven pushed himself upright, he checked to see if he had rodent droppings on the palms of his hands. He hated mice. He hated rats even more. The cat he'd found to live in the back was so fat and full that he'd seen it look lazily at two mice scurrying across the tiny storeroom floor just the other day. It didn't even twitch its tail.
Seeing that he was more or less free of rodent droppings, he rinsed his hands, picked the bucket out of the sink and refilled it with tepid water, added a tiny splash of bleach and headed to the dining room. When he got there he was startled to see Benjiro and a Filipina woman in large sunglasses looking over the room from just inside the front door. The door faced the evening sun so mostly he noticed the woman as a silhouette, but she looked pretty. Steven waved at Benjiro and pointed to a table by the wall away from the bar. Benjiro took the hand of the person Steven assumed was his mother and lead her to the table. He offered her the chair facing away from the front door, which she waved off. She situated herself so she could see whoever came in the front door and shooed Benjiro away as he tried to get her to switch chairs. Steven realized he was still studying her and that she was, for someone over forty, stunning.
"Hi, Benji. How's it going?" Steven nodded at Benjiro as he wiped the crumbs the last patron left behind onto the floor, being careful not to brush them onto Benjiro’s mom's lap. Addressing the lady staring at the door he put on a fake smile, "Hi, I'm Steven. Would you like something to drink, ma'am?"
Dragging her eyes off the door, it was as if she saw Steven for the first time. She took off her sunglasses to reveal a beauty of a shiner on the left side of her face. It was artfully covered with make-up, but still relatively new, Steven could tell. He'd passed his share of shiners back and forth with his brother. Startled into honesty, he blurted "Wow, that's a doozy! What's the other guy look like?" Benjiro looked at him with wide eyes, but his mother calmly replied, "He looks just like Benji, except he’s significantly older." She returned his direct gaze and then slid her eyes down to his feet and back up, hesitating only slightly on his crotch. "Darling, tell me you sell something stronger than beer here?"
"Well of course we have Red Horse." It was what seventy-five percent of the alcohol drinking patrons ordered, but Steven figured it might not be what she had in mind. "We also have rum." She stared blankly at him. "And Coke…I mean I can get you a rum and coke if you like?"
She nodded her head and shooed him away and Benjiro mouthed "Coke" before he turned around.
Steven poured the rum in a clean glass, which he had to look around for, and brought two cans of cold coke from the tiny drinks fridge. He set them down on the table and Benjiro's mom just looked at the can and then showed him her freshly painted fingernails. Taking the hint, Steven wiped the top of the can with the same cloth he'd just used to clean the table. He cracked it open and offered to pour it in her glass of rum. Again she waved him away, but this time he didn't leave.
"Did you guys want dinner?" Asking these two if they wanted to eat reminded Steven that he hadn't eaten yet either and his stomach decided to take this inopportune time to make the fact known to everyone in a ten foot radius.
"What did you have, honey?" Benjiro's mom asked him.
"Nothing yet, ma'am."
"That's what I'll go with, too, then." She poured a half inch of Coke on top of the rum and took a sip, dismissing him and returning her gaze to the doorway.
He heard Benjiro clear his throat so he quit staring and turned to his new friend. "I'll just have the Adobo and rice."
While the restaurant was simple, Gilberto was known to be a solid and consistent cook. His two 'go to' specialties were Adobo chicken and Pancit. Both tasted great, but the Pancit tended to be more of a surprise because Gilberto might put whatever was available into it on any given night.
Steven decided to bring both patrons the Adobo so he served up two helpings and made one more trip to the table. After he'd taken care of a couple more customers he set himself up with his own plate and scarfed down the tasty dish until he felt just a little bloated. Then he made a show of washing up the glasses that he deemed too dirty to serve Benjiro's mom her rum in and finally cleared dishes from most of the people in the dining room.
Gilberto made desserts once in a while and tonight he made puto, a traditional Filipino steamed sweet cake. Every one of the patrons got one, whether they liked it or not, so Steven brought Benjiro and his mom theirs.
Benjiro's mom hardly touched her Adobo, but she popped the puto into her mouth and washed it down with the last of her rum and coke. "Don't be late, Benjiro, and don't wake me in the morning." She got up and headed to the door, her tight skirt saying something to Steven. He tried not to listen.
After Steven cleared the remaining tables in the restaurant, Gilberto excused him for the evening to go hang out with his new friend. "You want to head to the white sand beach?" Benjiro asked.
"Oh, the way will be full of bugs, maybe not." Plus his tummy was full and it was a long walk.
But Benjiro responded, "Come on, we'll run and stay ahead of the bugs," and took off in the direction of the beach trail. Steven felt obliged to follow.
Navigation Test 1961
Benjiro was fast. He reached the beach a full two minutes before his friend, but he could hear Steven's feet flopping along as he sprinted clumsily the last few hundred yards of the brush lined path. He lay down with a soft thud in the sand and ditched his flip flops. The path coming had been full of mosquitoes, but the setting sun was great and the breeze off the sea was keeping the bugs back in the brush he'd just exited. Taking a quick look around he pulled his shirt up over his head and laid on his back to catch his breath.
Walking the last twenty yards, Steven worked his own flip flops off and dug a sharp pebble from between the toes of his left foot. He was sweating through his tee shirt and shorts now, which he hated, so he pulled the shirt off, tossed it on the sand by Benjiro and laid down, hands behind his head.
"Do you know how to tell direction by the stars, Steve?" Benjiro asked.
"Well I know some of the constellations and I guess I know where they should be, so yes?" He replied. "Why?"
"My dad teaches astronomy and physics in Japan and sometimes in the Philippines. That's why we're here now," said Benjiro.
"There's no one to teach astronomy to here in Zambales," Steven stated.
"Well you don't see my dad here either, do you? He's in Manila at the University teaching a special class. He comes here on weekends…sometimes," Benjiro answered.
"How long have you been here?" Steven asked.
"Two weeks so far," Benjiro replied.
"At least your dad can visit, my mom's dead," Steven bluntly said.
"Sorry," was all Benjiro could think of in reply.
"It's okay, I don't know why I said that. She died when I was five," Steven continued.
"Oh. Well, sorry anyway." Benjiro thought for a moment. "Who takes care of you when your dad's not around?"
"He's always around. He never goes away. It's his restaurant, it would close without him, I guess," replied Steven.
"Oh." A few seconds passed before Benjiro’s next thought came out. "Well I guess my mom doesn't do that much to take care of me anyway," he said. "The offer is still open."
"Huh?" Steven questioned.
"My cock. You can still suck it," Benjiro answered.
Steven smiled weakly. "Thanks, that's okay, I'll pass."
Benjiro stood up, took his shorts off and headed for the water. It was a perfect night for a swim. As the sun set the moon was coming up and was going to be close to full. It was still too light to see stars, but the sky was totally cl
ear. Benjiro could see Steven deciding whether or not to follow and was relieved when he finally stood and stripped as well. The two swam around while the sun set, and when Benjiro was exhausted, flopped out of the water onto the sand to dry off.
"So tell me any constellation you see in the sky," Benjiro challenged.
"Well I see Orion." Steven pointed to the familiar hour glass shape in the sky.
"Okay, sure. Easiest one. Do you know how to find Taurus?" Benjiro said.
"Sure. Orion's belt and up that way." Steven pointed northwestward.
Tiring of that game and convinced that Steven did indeed know something about stars, Benjiro changed the subject. "Have you ever wanted to go live in a different galaxy?"
"I guess I haven't thought exactly about another galaxy." Steven seemed to think for a few minutes, then finished his answer, "does sailing count?"
"What do you mean?" Asked Benjiro.
"I mean, does wanting to go be on a boat, travel the oceans to different worlds, see things every day that regular people don't see, count?" Steven answered.
"I don't know, yeah, I guess,” Benjiro said. After a moment he added, “I want to go live in space. Someplace no one else has gone."
"Why?" asked Steven.
"If I could do that my dad would be so proud," Benjiro said quietly.
"Well you must already know all there is to know about stars from him," said Steven.
"I know all there is to know about stars from the books he writes. I guess that's pretty close," Benjiro answered.
"So what do you think you'd see if you went to…where would you go?" Steven asked.
"I don't know. If I knew, I guess I'd know more than my dad." But Benjiro thought for a few minutes and came back with, "I guess I'd head for Orion's belt. I like its name and it's like the cross roads to so many other constellations. Where would you go if you sailed away?" Benjiro threw the question back at Steven.
"First I want to explore the Philippine and South China Sea. Then I want to go where my mom came from, the pacific northwest of the United States of America. I don't want to go one place, I want to go every place. I'll make it happen, too," Steven answered.
"My father says I'm not smart enough to be an astronaut. He says I don't like to study hard enough. I think he just doesn't want to teach me. I finish the books he teaches before most of his class does. And I can answer the questions as well as he can, too," Benjiro said.
Steven laughed. It wasn’t the response Benjiro wanted and he felt himself blush tremendously and crossed his arms. Steven continued, "Well I don't have to be smart to sail. I already have my mom's sense of direction. The inside of my head is like a compass; I always know where I'm at and what direction to go."
"Ha, let's see. Get up," Benjiro said.
Steven got up and Benjiro tied his shirt over his eyes. He poked and prodded making sure that Steven couldn't see anything until Steven complained. "Hey, knock it off, I can't see anything!" He proved his point by taking a couple of swings at his new friend, finding only air. Benjiro's placed his hands on Steven’s chest.
Steven responded by asking “What’s up?”
Benjiro answered, "I'm going to see if you really always know where you're at. Spin in a circle." He started turning Steven like a big top. Making him spin in the sand and keeping him basically in the same spot. It felt like he did it for a full minute, then he let go and Steven came to a stop, standing with his legs spread apart a bit.
"I never said I didn't get dizzy, I said I always know where I'm at. Give me a minute," said Steven.
Benjiro watched his new friend concentrate and stick out his arms to steady himself. After another minute, Steven lowered his arms.
"Now walk toward the sea," Benjiro said.
Steven was still for a moment and then turned forty-five degrees to his right and walked into the wind as it was coming off the water.
Benjiro figured that apparently Steven felt the same relief from the mosquitoes as he had when he came out of the brush.
Benjiro put his hands back on Steven’s torso, physically urging him to spin again.
When Steven stopped this time, Benjiro immediately said, "Head northwest."
Steven stood still for a moment, but it wasn’t long this time before he turned thirty degrees to his left and started walking.
"STOP," Benjiro said.
Steven stopped and took off his blindfold. He was a step and half away from walking face first into one of the big rocks that edged the cove.
"Thanks. That would have hurt. Did I pass the test?" He asked.
Benjiro answered, “Yes.” The line from where Benjiro had spun Steven to where he stopped was like the minute hand on a clock pointing at eight minutes to the hour.
Test of Courage 1961
A week later, Steven was again at his 'secret' mapping site. This time he was working on another map which was a three dimensional combination of actual and imaginary locations centered off the shore from Portland to Seattle and Vancouver. He was plotting navigation for rough seas and discovering new islands when he heard a group of people on the path. Normally this wouldn't bother him, but he didn’t always like to be teased for his sand mapping and for some reason today he decided to shimmy up the nearest boulder. When four kids appeared around the bend he crouched to make himself more or less invisible. The sun was setting at his back so it was in the new arrivals eyes, effectively hiding him, but illuminating their faces.
He almost relaxed and jumped down when he saw it was his brother, Boris, two of his buddies and Steven's new friend, Benjiro. Then he saw Benjiro grab his brother's crotch and Boris punched him in the stomach. When the other two took Benjiro's arms and held them, Boris continued to punch him every place he was wearing clothes. Steven didn't know exactly why he hesitated, but part of him said that Benjiro was going to get this no matter what he did, based on the way he went around asking the questions he did. Then Boris went around behind Benjiro, kicked the young Japanese boy in the kidney, kneeled behind him for a moment and yanked down his shorts in a couple of jerks.
"Ah, he wouldn't…" thought Steven. But when Boris opened his own shorts, Steven knew he would. "Ah fuck." He knew he was going to get the shit kicked out of him.
Jumping off the rock he started running toward the four and yelling, "Stop it you mother fuckers! Leave him alone! Get out of here! What the hell do you think you're doing! Boris, Dad's going to kill you!" This tirade took him into the thick of the group.
Boris was surprised and his pants were still down so he was knocked over and started swearing and scrambled around like a sun maddened crab. However, the other two were ready when he hit them. They pitched Benjiro onto his face in the sand and sent Steven flying by stepping aside, grabbing his arms and kicking his legs out from under him.
Then all hell broke loose. Steven was doing most of his fighting from his back, lying in the sand while the two others smashed at his face with their fists. Boris had regained his footing and was kicking at his brother, yelling at him that this was none of his business and he should stay away. Steven, for all the sticky liquid that seemed to be accumulating in his mouth and on his face, also seemed to be connecting on his brother's chums. He was using fingers, fingernails, fists, teeth and even his head when they got close enough.
From over Steven's head he saw a big piece of driftwood swing and connect with one of the guys beating on his face. It very quickly came back and caught the other guy in the mouth and finally swung and just grazed Boris' stomach. Everything stopped at once. Both Boris' buddies were dazed and Boris was standing back, looking over Steven's head. When he twisted around he saw Benjiro, naked from the waist down, brandishing a seven foot piece of driftwood in a sort of Asian fighting style. It was clear he knew about as much about using that stick as he did about the stars.
The first of Boris' friends to go down was the first to get up and charge Benjiro again. It took one well-placed swing of the stick to send him back to the sand, writhing in even more p
ain this time. If his leg wasn't broken, it would have a heck of a knot in it tomorrow where Benjiro's weapon had connected with it.
With that, Boris said, "Fuck 'em, they learned their lesson. Queer fucks. Let's get outta here." He turned specifically to Steven. "You'll shut up if you know what's good for you." It sounded pretty stupid coming from his younger brother, but Steven also knew he probably wouldn't say anything to anyone, let alone their dad.
When the three were at the path entrance into the bushes again, Benjiro tossed his stick and knelt by Steven. "I'm sorry, that was my fault. I ask for it. Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. What the fuck is the matter with you? You knew what they were going to do. Jesus, I should have let them rape you."
"Yeah, you should have. I can take care of myself." He sat back on his haunches. "Thank you, though. No one's ever stood up for me before. For anything."
Steven spit out a puddle of blood, looking closely to see if there were any teeth in it. There weren't. "Jesus. Dumb fuck. Help me up."
Boris' Beginnings in Manila 1966
"It has to be done before this weekend, otherwise you'll run the risk of every amateur tourist in Manila sharing the experience with you. That could end up being an unhealthy choice for you." With that the mayor lit the big Cuban cigar, plumes of bluish smoke circling his hands in the process. He sucked in a powerful lungful of the expertly cured tobacco and made sure to blow it squarely in his underling's face. "I don't know if you realize yet that I want this kid to make the run. There are lots of idiots with boats that think they're hot shit simply because they have a boat. This kid knows what he's doing. He's the one I want. You make sure I get what I want." Turning around, the mayor effectively dismissed him without so much as waving him out of the ornate office.
The view of Manila Bay from his office was one of the best vantage points in the city, if he did say so himself, the Mayor thought. "Shit, in the old days my dick would get hard grabbing five hundred pesos. Now I'm rounding up fifty thousand every month and it stays soft. Other fucking hands grabbing at me from every direction."
Game of Wit and Chance_Beginnings Page 5