He felt a dainty hand lightly tap his shoulder.   Even with his eyes shut, he knew who it was.  It was that darn woman again.

“Dr. Garcia...we are almost there...” said a sultry voice.

 The young man made a slight grumble, his little way of showing her that he certainly didn’t welcome her interruption of his thoughts process.   He was having a breakthrough and she ruined it.   He cursed her under his breath.

Suddenly, the plane dipped forward in the most opportuned time.  The aircraft was making its final descent through the foggy dawn of early June.   The young man knew that he was almost there...his new home.  His mood suddenly shifted from being irate to being excited.

“Did you have a restful sleep, doc?”   she said.

He could not believe what was happening.  How many flight attendants personally wake their guests up?  As far he could remember, he wasn’t seated in business class.  After all, there was no such thing as business class in local flights.   In fact, he purposely chose to sit at the very back to avoid such special attention.

Another preferential treatment, he grimaced.   He can never get used to that.

Gerald Anderson Garcia reluctantly opened his eyes.  The almost too saccharine smile of the well made-up flight attendant instantly jolted him back to his senses.  He feigned a yawn for he wasn’t really sleeping.  These days, Gerald almost never sleeps.  His dreams haunt him more now than they ever did before.

 “Christine...”  Gerald read off her nameplate.   “I had a wonderful sleep, thank you...”

“I hope you didn’t find the flight too bumpy ....”

“No it was fine,”   he said, cutting her off.

It wasn’t really just a standard reply.  It was more of a plea for her to let him be. 

The stewardess was very persistent though.  “Would you like anything else, doctor?”

She flashed him another of her coquettish smiles.

Groupies.  He abhors them.  Here goes another lemming ready to jump off to the nearest Gerald Garcia cliff.

Gerald could almost feel her eyes bore through his clothes.  She had been flirty with him the entire flight.  Ordinarily, he would indulge her attention a little bit, but not today.   He was in one of his “moods.”

Rather dejectedly, he said as politely as he could, “No, that would be all, Christine.”        

“Well, If you need me for anything else, I’ll be here up front...” 

The young lady her heels and left with disappointment hanging on her trail. 

Gerald heaved a sigh.  He hates letting people down.

It was not the first time he had disappointed a girl.  There had been a whole slew of them in the past who had helplessly tried to fling their affection at him, but to no avail.  He was used to a lot of people, and not just girls mind you, being rather affront with him.   His mom used to say to him that he has the aura of a bona fide rock god.  Women fall by the wayside swooning at him.   Men secretly envy him. 

His mom coined it right like she always does.  It seems as though people recognize a sense of greatness whenever they meet him.

The adulation has always been there.   Since he was young, in whatever field or endeavour he chose, he flourished like a young Mozart.   It was almost as if he could never do anything wrong and people around him had always been quick to support him and boost his confidence even more.  It was as if they already saw the diamond beneath the coal before it was even polished.  

However, such hero worship can become both a blessing and a curse.  Yes, it‘s a marvellous feeling to be recognized for what you do great, but then again it becomes a whole new kind of beast, especially when times like this when all he needed was some alone time to think.   Then, it becomes a curse. 

Fame monster.  Maybe that is why people call it that, he thought.

Gerald felt the wheels of the plane hit the dirt.   A sense of destiny entered him. His heart thudded like it never did before. He suddenly forgot about the superficial nature of his world, or at least, the world he thought he knew.  He can’t help but feel both anxious and excited.   He finally took charge of his own destiny. Even in his most impulsive moments, he could not think of doing something like this.  At a drop of a hat, he packed his bags, bought a plane ticket, and moved to a whole new other world.   This city will become his new home.

Like the rising sun brightly glowing outside the window, it was a new start and he was there to embrace it.        

---

Dr.  Manuel Locsin rubbed his temples.   He was having an early morning migraine.  His caffeine fix may not had been sufficient, or perhaps, it was because of the man he was talking to on the phone.  As the man on the other line ranted endlessly, Manuel fiddled with his engraved marble desk plate, as he would often do when he was nervous.   He took a moment and looked at it and it read, Manuel Locsin, Hospital Administrator.  But times like these, he doesn’t exactly feel the authority goes with the title.

“Are you out of your mind?” blasted the man on the other line.

“Yes, doctor.  He wanted a personal interview with you,” the 40-year-old hospital administrator replied.

“I don’t have time today,” said the rasping voice of the 60-year-old Dr. Ramon Gonzalez.

What an obstinate old goat!

“Yes, I know you don’t have time, doctor... and that you’re a very busy man, I get that.  However, could you please spare 15 minutes of your time for this kid. Who knows, you might even like him,” pleaded Dr. Locsin.

“Look, Dr. Locsin, I don’t even have time for my own kids, how much more for this...green horn hotshot.”

This guy had no clue who he was talking about.

He suddenly heard a knock on the door.  It was his secretary Shirley, signalling him that somebody was there to see him.

It was desperation time.  He felt he needed to make it happen.  It was begging time. 

“Doctor Gonzalez, please...do it for me?”  Manuel hated himself for saying it.

“Couldn’t you just get anybody to babysit him?”

“Well, he’s not just like any young doctor you know, Ramon...this kid is a genius,” he bragged.

“But why does he want to meet with me?”

“Uhmm...I don’t exactly know,” he admitted.   “I’ll found out when he comes in.”

 “Well, I suggest you find out first.  Then, have him make an appointment with my nurse.”

“But, Ramon, this isn’t a request...it’s an order.”

Click.  The phone line went dead.

Doctor Locsin cursed at the phone even more.   The old guy deserved it.   What floored him though was how Dr. Gonzalez could not have had any idea who Gerald Garcia was.    All he had to do was open the newspaper or turn on the television and he would have found out right away.   The old doctor may have thought he was exaggerating when he said that this kid was the most magnificent thing that ever happened to Philippine medicine since the discovery of Erythromycin on Philippine soil, but then again, the old fool doesn’t really know who Dr. Garcia REALLY was.   Neither did he, at least not personally, but he somehow knew he would soon be in the presence of greatness.

Absentmindedly, he pressed the intercom button, “Shirley, let him in...”

Manuel Locsin then began to straighten his tie.   Why he was quite uptight, he doesn’t know.  

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in...”  Dr. Locsin said by reflex.

A tall, rather impish-looking fellow entered his office.   He was casually dressed in a blue, short-sleeved polo shirt that he tucked loosely into a pair of designer jeans.  His hair was even sort of spikey, like those punks his son would often emulate on TV, but his eyes...they were rather forceful.   This young lad looked at him almost with a tad of insolence, as if he somehow belittled his presence.  It really unnerved him. 

For Dr. Locsin’s credit, nothing on this young man’s looks would even remotely suggest a genius doctor. This couldn’t be the guy now, could he?

“If you’re looking for approval for the use of the MRI on one of your out-of-this-world projects you can forget about it...tell your supervisor to go chuck himself,”  Locsin flared at him without even giving him a second look. 

“I’m sorry, I’m here to speak to you about something else, Dr. Locsin,” said the young lad. 

Even though his voice resonated with youthful friskiness, it sounded confident and firm.  Locsin prides himself for recognizing talent in young people, and voice modulation is one of the things he looks for in alpha personalities.

At this time, Dr. Locsin had taken a good second look at him.   Yes, right off he did look rather youthful, but one deeper look on his face, the elder administrator began to shudder.   Dr. Locsin could almost sense the determination in his eyes.  He has the look of a great artist...or maybe that of a psychopath cult leader ready to nuke the world.   

Intense.  It’s the only way Dr. Locsin could describe it.    

“You’re Doctor Garcia?”  the hospital chief surmised with gritted teeth.  He can’t believe his poor luck. He somehow mistook him for a bumbling intern.  He hoped he wasn’t offended.

The kid nodded with a smile.

Dr. Locsin really couldn’t believe his eyes.  This is him?

“Forgive me, Doctor Garcia, but somehow you looked younger than who they said you’d be!”

The young man immediately approached him and shook his hands.  Dr. Locsin had to remind himself that his mouth was hanging open. 

“Oh don’t worry, Doctor Locsin, I get that reaction a lot.”

“God, how old did you say you were?”

“I’m 24...almost 25, really. In a month’s time, I’ll be technically a year older.”  

“Jesus!”  Dr. Locsin muttered under his breath.  He looked rather inexperienced.

Somehow, Gerald read his mind, and said cheekily, “Don’t worry Doctor Locsin, I am not here to do any weird experiments on your MRI or on your other hospital equipment for that matter.  I can assure you that I have performed more than two hundred brain surgeries in the last three years.  I can guarantee you that my youth is not a hindrance to my expertise.”

“I’m pretty sure you would do more than fine, Dr. Garcia...” retorted the elder doctor.  “Great things...that is what we’ve come to expect from you.”

 “I have no intention of failing you, sir...”

“Please, call me Manny.  We can drop the formalities here. After all, I am hardly any older than you.   We should consider each other more like contemporaries, okay?”

It was a stretch but what the heck.  The boy looked at him amusingly and said, “Yes, Doctor Locsin, whatever you say.”

A moment of silence passed.   Locsin spent a good minute examining him.  You know the kind of look you give on things, especially when you know you’re buying something very special.  He was looking at him the same way.  He was staring at him for any tell-tale flaws on the surface...a seed of doubt, perhaps a chip in confidence, a zit or two, but he couldn’t find one.

“Is there anything you’d want to ask me doctor?”  Gerald broke the peace.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have a question for you,” Locsin said as he leaned back into his swivel chair.  “I, and so do few other important people in the medical community, thought you have lost your young mind.  Why did you ever?”

“Why did I decide to move to your city?”  Gerald finished for him.  “The answer is simple.  I love your city.  It’s a very pretty and place to be.”

“Yeah, but it’s also small too...perhaps even too small for an exceptionally talented surgeon like you.”

“Did I ever mention to you that I lived here when I was younger?  I had lots of fond memories while I was here,”  Gerald said almost in a matter-of-factly tone.

“So, is that the reason why you are moving here?”  Locsin pried.

“Among other things...” Gerald responded curtly.

Locsin gave him a sardonic smile.  This boy is very sharp. Very sharp indeed.  He is not one to get lost in semantics. 

“I guess the reason you moved is more of a personal nature then,”  Locsin said, eyebrows raised.

Gerald wasn’t ready to give in.   He was determined to be vague and said, “I guess you can say that.”

Locsin had to sigh.   He was not giving him anything at all today.  He can’t verbally coerce him into revealing his exact purpose.  However, the nature by which this young doctor has so suddenly left his old practice has made the elder doctor extremely curious.   He was dying to know what was going through his complex head.

“Very well, then... Dr. Garcia, Iloilo City District Hospital is very proud to have you as our premiere neurosurgeon.”  Locsin beamed at him.

“Uhmm, Dr. Locsin, there is that small matter...”

 Locsin was not listening anymore. His mind was racing with possibilities.  “Now, we have to increase our spending and get you the facilities you need.  I am sure the board won’t have a hard time getting you the most advanced surgical equipment.”

Gerald Garcia had to fake a cough to stop him.  “Doctor Locsin, I need to talk to you about MY plans ...”   

“Plans?  What plans?”

“I am shifting my practice towards Oncology...”  Gerald said.

“Say what again?”  Doctor Locsin could not believe what he just heard.  He thought he was hearing things.  “Did I hear you say what I just thought I heard you say?”

 “Yes, Doc, that is why I asked for a meeting with Doctor Gonzalez.  He is the premiere oncologist in the country and I wanted to study with him. I want to pursue a fellowship in Oncology.”

Doctor Locsin’s jaw dropped to a level he had not known it could drop before.  His throat began to feel so dry.  “But why?”

“I felt that I needed the change...a new challenge, perhaps.”

“But you CAN’T just change,”  Locsin said adamantly.  “You’re already a brilliant surgeon...with even more brilliant prospects.  You are the best young doctor the Philippines had seen in a while. It’s such a waste of talent for you NOT TO DO what you are...naturally gifted and inclined to do.”

“I don’t see it as a waste of talent, doctor.  I see it as an opportunity for me to do well on other fields of medicine,” he answered succinctly.

“But you and I know, Doctor Garcia that neurosurgery is not for every other doctor.  You must have the brains and the hands to excel in it.  You have both...and people like you only comes around once in a lifetime.  Whereas, any other doctor can become an oncologist if he so chooses.“

“So, be it, Doctor Locsin.  But I think I made up my mind a long time ago,” the young doctor said firmly.  Gerald gave him this tired, pensive look, as if he was about to give him a piece of his mind but held it back. “This is where my interest lies now.”

Locsin struggled for words.

“I have no doubt you will do excellent in every field you will choose in the future, but please Doctor Garcia,” Locsin knew he had to plead for the second time today.  He didn’t like it one bit.  “Please reconsider your decision for the sake of the thousands of our countrymen waiting and lining up for months on end to witness one of your many miracle surgeries.”

“I think I have done what I can with surgery, Doctor Locsin. But, I’m not Jesus.  I am just human,” he said with a grim smile.  “There are limits to what I can do.  And to this day, I firmly believe I have reached my limits with neurosurgery.”

Doctor Locsin still could not get his mind wrapped around how much of a travesty it is for Gerald Garcia to pursue another field of medicine.  

“Is there any chance I could persuade you to change your mind?  I can be a persuasive man, doctor.  I can offer you the most state of the art facility you could ever imagine.  Name it, I’ll make it happen.”  Locsin was looking for his eyes to brighten up just a little bit.  “On the condition that you just stick to neurosurgery...”

“No, Doctor Locsin. I want to specialize in Oncology,” Gerald replied with an even more determined tone.

It was as if he was so sure of his own fate.   Manuel Locsin knew right then and there he was fighting a lost cause.  He knew a lot of people just like him.  Dr. Gonzalez is one of them. They both are as stubborn as a bull.   He’ll have to try his luck with him some other time.  

“Very well, then.   I’ll call my buddy, Ramon...” he said.  He picked up the phone and dialled a local. 

This phone call will finally put all the plans into motion.  Reluctantly, Manuel had to do it.  Decisions had to be made right away.  He didn’t want to lose him either and he feared that if he denied his request, he’ll just choose another hospital to practice in.  Truth was, this hospital needed the buzz a doctor of Gerald Garcia’s calibre could provide. His presence alone could cause an influx of the much-needed grants and donations from patrons, which right now, the hospital really, really needs.

“Nurse, get me Doctor Gonzalez on the line...” Locsin barked on the phone.   

“Thank you, Doctor,” Gerald said with a contented smile.

Doctor Locsin countered him with a wry smile of his own.  He then pressed his temple with his free hand. A migraine was starting to creep up again.  This was the start of a very long day for him.   Maybe this will go on for a week.  Maybe a year.  Who knows?  He began to question God why the world had to be this complicated.

---

After his fruitful meeting with the hospital administrator, Gerald Garcia stepped out of the hospital with greater resolve.

The sun shone brightly now.   It seems like it agrees of him being where he was.    Gerald smelled the fresh breeze that brushed past him.   He closed his eyes and childhood memories come pouring in.

Iloilo City was where his childhood dreams were forged.  He loved this old city like no other. Images of him playing in the dirt, going to the nearby beach, climbing mango trees on lazy Sunday afternoons filled his otherwise tired senses...such were the days of his youth, full of mirth. Even when times got tough and he had to leave the city years later, the joyful memories are what he held on to instead. 

Gerald smiled at the happy recollection.  It was such a full-circle moment for him.  He was glad to finally come back to the very place he started from.  

Feeling a little bit more adventurous,  Gerald hailed a cab and asked the driver to take him around the city for a little bit.

He marvelled at how the city has grown from back in the day.  He remembers back then how simple life in this small city was.   Now, it looked busier and more bustling but its old character was still there.  It was as if the old Calle Real still breathed the same ancient spirit of the Spanish colonial times.

Even the old city plazas still inhabited the same free-spirited kids from back in the day.   He used to be one of those kids.

“Where to next, sir?”  the cab driver fondly asked. 

“Could you please take me to the Molo district,” Gerald ordered the friendly cab driver.

The driver nodded and headed down west of the riverside road.

“Are you new in town, sir?”

“No, manong, I used to live here before...” he answered.  “Why did you say that?”

“You were looking at our little city like a tourist.”

“I am...and always will be, I guess.”   Gerald said.

Suddenly, the cab entered an old and familiar street.   It was just like Gerald had remembered it.  The stately adobe houses still lined both sides of the street.   Nothing seemed to have changed with most of them, except for the telltale moss growing on the brick surfaces that denotes the passage of time and neglect.  The semi dirt road was still riddled with broken pavement that used to scratch his bare knees while playing “patintero” with the other street urchins.

It was the street that time forgot, Gerald mused.

The cab finally halted at the biggest house at the end of the street.   It used to be his home.

The old and stately structure jaunted out like a sore thumb from the row of old Spanish-style bungalows.  It was a house like no other.  It was an American colonial two-storey mansion with an expansive front lawn.  The only outside view of the house can be accessed through the gates as the entire compound is fenced off by a six-foot-high concrete wall.

The old monolithic structure was once the source of pride for the young Gerald. Back in the day, his friends used to fear his old home.  They said it was haunted but Gerald never believed it.  He thought it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.   it was a typical old stone house you would often see on movies but  his mom had countless fascinating stories about it.   She told him once that the house was built meticulously from scratch by several generations of wealthy Garcias before him, with each generation that lived there, adding a piece of structure to further enhance it grandieur. 

 The first storey is made of out of concrete and housed the biggest rice storage Gerald had ever seen. The entire place used to be an arucera (rice mill) for the community back in the days of old, which was way before the advent of commercial grade rice.  The second storey was built entirely out of the local hardwood Narra and is where most of the "living" takes place. Large Capiz-shell, French- style windows cap off the antique feel of this aged abode, and Gerald used to remember just sitting on the window sill, looking at the passing of the tricycles on the street below.

The house greeted him like an old friend.   It even smelled the same as he remembered it.

Gerald didn’t realize he was staring at it for a long time.  He held on the rusty old iron gate in complete reverie.

 “Gerald...?” an old, familiar voice greeted him from behind.

Gerald froze instantly.   He didn’t anticipate the sudden surge of emotions that filled him.   He turned around and saw the man he longed so much to see.

“Dad...” Gerald murmured.

“My son...”

The man who was supposed to be in his mid-40’s, instantly dropped the bag of fresh produce that he was holding.  He ran towards the young man with every spring in his ailing step.

They hugged and cried like it was the most natural thing for them to do. 

Gerald could no longer hold back his tears.  He looked at the man and saw his future face.  His mom used to tell him that he was his doppelganger.   But Gerald had not anticipated how badly he had aged throughout the years.   It was as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his face and frame.  His body had gone from robust to dangerously thin.   His skin that used to be vibrant has now become wrinkly and dull. 

But his eyes...they were still as animated as Gerald could remember them.

“What brings you here, my son?” the older man spoke, moments later.

“I’ve come home, dad...” Gerald replied.

“Really? For good?”

Gerald nodded. 

“I’m glad you finally came home, Gerald.  You just made me the happiest man alive.”

“Me, too.”   Gerald answered.

Suddenly, Gerald heard stirring coming from just inside the compound.   From there, he saw a plump and homely woman come out of the gates.

“Rudy, who is it?”  the lady said.

“It’s Gerald, my son, Vangie...” his father replied.

Vangie.   Or Evangeline.  Whatever her name was.   It was the name Gerald had gone to hate all these years.    

All the anger that he had before coming back to this place began to flood his system.  His heart was so filled with rage, it was about to explode in pure, white fury.   He looked at her in silent contempt.

Sensing a momentary awkwardness between the two, Gerald’s father moved over to the woman’s side and placed his arm over her shoulder.    “You remember your Tita Vangie, right Gerald?”

Gerald nodded.  Then, he smiled at her.   She smiled back warmly, oblivious of the deviousness of his thoughts.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Gerald Garcia vowed to himself that he would never forget.  He even promised it over his mom’s grave.