The Midnight Hour
1 - There’s a lull in the Aquino-Roxas HQ, at least in my corner of the Expo. Everyone is tense, but we’re all hopeful. Many are murmuring prayers. I want to throw up. I’ve been trying to read a book, but it’s been abandoned ever since Comelec started receiving the transmitted votes.
2 - Yes, my boss is Mar Roxas. No, I am not doing this because of pahabol-campaigning. That’s stupid.
3 - I have seen Mar about three times since I began—
- At a press conference four hours after my boyfriend and I had a soul-ripping talk; and Mar was very far away, up on stage. I’d slipped in to just watch him, and I slipped out as soon as we’d all finished clapping, a sea of blue and yellow.
- In a hallway, while I was singing Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance in a not-quite-quiet voice—he came out of the room, smiled at me, and if one could stammer out a smile, that was what I did. Later the same day, he walked into our unit, looked at everyone for a moment, then said, “Thank you for working so hard.” He smiled, nodded, smiled.
- A few days ago, resting in one of the couches, after a press conference about the automated elections—he had a tired, but ready smile, his gaze trained on Noynoy still on stage, surrounded by reporters. [He]’s gained weight, hasn’t he? I asked Allen. She told me, Dati, may fiesta, limang bangus nakain niya. Ganyan talaga si [sir]. I smiled, and said, Kain kargador. Mike leaned in and asked, almost absently, Have you seen [sir]’s library? I gaped. Two giant rooms with two giant reclining airplane seats. Arranged according to the Library of Congress codes. He has a librarian come in every couple of weeks or so. Mike was mimicking how Mar gestured at the books around him: Those, I’ve read, pointing to several walls. Mike added, Sabi ni [sir], yung mga favorite niya daw na libro, dalawa yung kopya. I looked at Mar. I wanted to perch on the arm of that giant couch and ask, So what books do you have double?
4 - Mar Roxas has a goddamned library. If anything, I am willing to lay prostate at his feet to beg, “I would be honored to Windex the covers of your books, sir.”
5 - We’re waiting for results. I am close to tears. Not so much because I am afraid Mar would lose. It’s that I’m just fucking tired of country that can’t see beyond the surface of the glaring television sets. I could go on and on about the merits of having my boss as the VP—that’s my job. But I could also go on and on about how much I believe that Mar is the real fucking deal. He’s a good man, my boss.
6 - But you don’t want to hear that. You probably haven’t even read this far, upon seeing Mar’s name up there.
7 - FOR GOD’S SAKE, BACK IN NEW YORK, HE WAS PART OF THE COMMITTEE THAT FORMED THE FINANCING THINGAMAJIG OF DISCOVERY CHANNEL. EXCLAMATION POINTS!
8 - I am also not here to say anything about the disaster that is Jejomar Binay. Oh, sorry, that slipped.
9 - I don’t believe these things because Mar has been paying for my survival, for my gahdamned books. I remember Nash asked me weeks ago, Pera lang ba yan? We laughed. But I shook my head.
10 - Yes, I am Mar’s employee. I want to tell you all how important it is to me that Mar wins the VP slot. I want to tell you how breathless and teary-eyed I am right now, and how the coffee and cigarettes aren’t helping. But this whole entry is tainted, isn’t it? I’m being paid to write this, aren’t I?
11 - We’re all waiting. The morning is punctuated by cheers and groans and weary, “Seriously, Philippines, seriously?” But that last part is mostly from me. I feel the cynicism as a live, hulking thing inside of me. But Kael had said, Relax lang. Okay, okay.
12 - I want to be hopeful. I am close to tears and people are hugging. Like the taxi driver said this morning, Ma’am, yung eleksyon, para palang basketball championship game na sobrang slow motion. Too true. I could elaborate on his winning metaphor, but I am exhausted.
13 - Still hopeful, motherfuckers. Still very much hopeful.
