“Kuya!” I was jumping up and down and waving my hands animatedly when I saw my brother came into sight from the arrival station of NAIA Centennial Terminal. His flight was one o’clock in the afternoon but Ate Phoebs and I couldn’t control our excitement to see our brother again after his three-year residentship in Los Angeles that we were already at the airport by eleven.

“I missed you both!” He wrapped his arms around Ate Phoebe and me and squeezed us close to him up to the point that we were practically choking. He finally let go of us after two oxygen-deprived minutes and tousled our hairs. “So how are my favorite girls?”

“Are you sure we’re still your favorite girls? Shouldn’t it be Sophia now?” Ate teased as we helped him with his suitcases. Kuya Henry and Ate Sophia, his college sweetheart and his fiancée for almost four years, — they’re strong proponents of long engagements — have decided to tie the knot last October 4, which also commemorates their seventh anniversary as a couple.

He pinched both of noses, chuckling like a mad man. “Sophia is the only love of my life, but you two are still my favorite girls. Always have, always will.”

Ate stuck her tongue out and pretended to hurl. “I need to empty the contents of my stomach because of what you just said.”

From the moment Kuya introduced Ate Soph to the family, we already knew that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with her. And I couldn’t be happier for my brother because she really is his soul mate.

---

He handed the two hand-carried paper bags to Ate and me before pulling out of the parking slot. “Soph personally picked those out.”

“Thanks,” Ate and I exclaimed cheerfully in unison.

“She still has some paper works to finish so she’ll be flying in next week. She asked me to give herpasalubong early to you both because I know how impatient you two can get,” he taunted and Ate immediately gave him a black look.

“Please tell me you and Ate Soph will be staying here in the Philippines for good,” I prompted with a childish pout.

“I’m still not sure. The medical programs in the States have been very useful for us. Yes, the quality of education in our country has improved but it’s still incomparable in what Western and European countries offer.”

“But you only went to the US because Dad asked you. You didn’t want it in the first place, Kuya. And you always wanted to work here to help the financially-challenged patients get a fair medical attention.”

“And I still want that, Phoebs, but I’m just thinking that a few more years in another clerkship or residentship program would do a whole lot of good to me. I would be able to help more people then.”

“So you’re leaving us again,” I muttered, gloomily slouching in the backseat.

“Come on, Cacai,” he cooed. “You know you could always pay me a visit during school breaks and holidays.”

“But we miss having you around. The house is so much different without you.”

“Then we’ll try to make the most out of my stay so we’ll have plenty of good memories to keep,” he said, smiling through the rearview mirror.

---

“Are you sure she’s coming?” I’ve already sent her four text messages and called her seven times but I still haven’t gotten any form of reply. “Maybe I should go to her condo and drag her out of the bed.”

Every year, Carrie’s parents would arrange a commemorative mass for Kuya Henry. And every year, she would come up with some lame excuse just to wriggle herself out of it. On the mark of her brother’s first death anniversary, she went to Maldives carrying nothing but her passport and her handbag and stayed there for a week. She was barely seventeen back then but she travelled without any companion and not bothering to tell anyone. Not even Ate Phoebe and me.

Kuya Henry’s passing had lead to the genesis of the pre-present-day Carrie. The Carrie who skips school and parties 24/7, hangs out with stoned chums — those who’re also suffering from a bruised ego but prefers to do drugs just to deflect the misery from sinking in —, and goes to bed with different strangers as if trying to encourage promiscuity.

But she finally grew out of that delinquent period of her life by the time she graduated from her pre-med course, although there are days that she still luxuriates herself with the spectacles of nightlife.

“She is, trust me. I called her last night to confirm,” Kuya Wesley unworriedly said to me.

Sydney rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “What made you so sure? She already bailed out thrice, what’s going to stop her from doing that again the fourth time?”

“Because she promised,” he replied while his hands were busy solving a Rubik’s cube.

Since the unfortunate miscarriage of their baby (my little nephew or niece, I’d never know), he’d been in some sort of trance. I know he’s slowly getting over his bereavement but he’s beginning to do things that he had no interest before and it’s kind of creeping me out.

The Rubik’s cube is one concrete proof. He normally doesn’t engage in things that requires patience, those are Wade’s strong points. What he likes (or I think he did) are physical games; basketball, baseball, and drag racing among others. He did mention that he and Carrie are turning over a new leaf but I didn’t expect it to be so soon and him to be so immersed.

“I guess we may just have to take your word for it,” Ciara mumbled with a surprised look on her face, nodding towards the chapel’s entrance.

All of us turned around and saw Carrie in a white pinafore with black sunglasses covering her eyes… and Sancho, her detestable ex-boyfriend, clutching her hand.

“What in the devil’s name is he doing here?” Liz hissed a bit louder than she intended to.

Kuya Wesley, who was as cool as a cucumber a minute ago, was now spitting with sudden fury. He handed me the half-solved Rubik’s cube and crossed the distance between them then hauled Carrie outside.

---

“What happened to our agreement to start doing things differently? We made a promise, remember?” I showed her the silver bullet-shaped pendant, which is identical to what she is wearing around her neck, to remind her of that vow. It was our little angel’s ashes, kept near our hearts to serve as a keepsake that would symbolically bind the three of us.

“You know I haven’t forgotten about our promise, Wesley.”

“Then what are you doing with him? You hate that guy, you said so yourself!” She pushed her sunglasses up to her head and lit a Marlboro Lights stick. She offered me one but I merely grunted.

She took a long drag on her cigarette before answering, “Sancho’s a good guy, Wes, you just need to give him a chance to prove himself.”

“He’s up to no good, Carina. He’s just going to hurt you again,” I said with a pleading tone, hoping that she’ll come to her senses.

“Wesley Mañalac, the city’s notorious philanderer, giving me words of wisdom about relationships. How totally cute,” she chuckled and brushed her soft hands across my cheek but stopped midway when I told her to wake up and smell the coffee.

“I care about you, Carrie, and I can’t just watch while you do this to yourself. It has been four years, don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

Her bleak, near vacant eyes grew remote but the corner of her lips was slightly raised in contempt. “I suggest you tell that to my dad, who has done nothing but make Ate Phoebe and I feel that we can never live up to his expectations the way Kuya did.”

“It’s never easy to lose a loved one,” I sighed as I held both of her arms. “I understand how you feel, Carrie.”

“No, you don’t,” she sternly said and brushed both of my hands off her. “You have no idea how it feels to lose someone.”

“Huh,” I scoffed, offended by her reaction. “You think you’re the only one who’s hurting right now? Our baby just died, Carrie. So yeah, I think I know exactly how that feels.” I turned around and went back inside. I know she’s hurting right now but if she doesn’t want my help, then I won’t push it.

---

Despite our fifteen-years age difference, I’d always been closer to my brother than anyone else in the family. There are certain ‘traditions’ that we share that Ate Phoebs doesn’t get. Like how we prefer to eat sushi rolls (we would munch on the middle fillings first before eating the raw fish, rice, and nori), how we enjoy watching documentary films over chic flicks, how much we love watching baseball even if we don’t understand the rules of the game… and the list goes on. It didn’t matter if we bond over the silliest things as long as we’re having fun.

“So when are you planning to give Mom and Dad their first grandchild? I want a niece,” I squealed, suddenly excited over the idea of becoming an aunt.

“It’s too early to have a baby when we have you to worry about,” Kuya goaded while he carefully veered through Shaw Boulevard.

“Ang yabang mo,” I yelled and punched his arm. “I’m not as juvenile as you think.”

“Hey, I’m driving,” he exclaimed. Kuya had always been a cautious driver. He has never had any ticket for traffic violations, compared to Ate Phoebe who’s always going over the speed limit as if trying to reenact Grand Theft Auto.

Once he had parked in a space near Paseo de Roxas, we both got out of the car and headed to Philamlife, which was on the other side of the road. It was pretty much traffic-free that day (sidewalks included), which is very unlikely for Philippines’ Wall Street.

I saw the pedestrian crossing light turned green but just when I’m about to take another step, a blaring honk from a red car only few inches away from me had made me jump out of my skin.

“Asshole! Can’t you see that it’s a red light?!” Kuya yelled and slapped his hand against the hood of the car. His face was growing redder by each second I’m afraid he might hit someone. “You could’ve killed my sister, you moron!”

The driver stepped out of the car and kept on apologizing and bowing his head down. He looked like he was only in his twenties and I started to feel bad for him when I noticed that he was on the verge of tears. He offered to take us to the hospital but I declined. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt,” I assured him.

Kuya shooed him away after he reamed the driver out to be careful next time. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?” he asked again once we were able to cross the street.

“No bruises, see,” I grinned while showing him both of my arms. “I’m perfectly fine.”

He put his arms around me and gave me a mild knuckle blow on the head, laughing a little. “You almost gave me a heart attack there, kid! I thought I was going to lose my beneficiary!” I gave him a strange look, prompting him to explain. “I’m making a few amendments on my insurance policy. I’m including you and Phoebe as my beneficiaries.”

“Shouldn’t Ate Soph be your beneficiary?”

“She already is. But, hey, I have to look out for the both of you. We have to be prepared. Take for example what happened a while ago. Who knows when I’ll kick the bucket,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

I jabbed him in his ribs just before we enter the Philamlife building. “Stop talking like someone’s going to die, okay? You’re scaring me.”

“You almost got hit by a car, I’m the one who should be scared,” he mumbled, half-chortling.

---

He asked me to wait for him at the corner of Ayala Avenue near the Philamlife building while he gets the car; I’m guessing he’s still nervous of the idea of me crossing the streets.

I was holding the new copies of his insurance documents in my hand. He said I could keep it once he and Ate Soph decides to return to the States. I know I already have insurance, courtesy of our parents, but this is different. This is probably the only legal document I know that I have my signature on. I suddenly feel so adult… so important.

I finally saw the car, awaiting for the Ayala Avenue and Paseo de Roxas intersection traffic lamps to turn green. After a few more seconds, the cars in Kuya’s lane began to move. I was waving at him just as he was turning left. He was about to wave back but something happened.

A silver Isuzu Crosswind crashed against Kuya’s car. It was like the time had slowed down a thousand times, it made each nanosecond appeared lengthy. I watched as two cars spun continually, the silver Crosswind colliding with another black Sedan. There were shards of glass flying, frenzied car horns, screaming voices…

I sprinted toward my brother as fast as I could, elbowing my way through the throng of people. “Help! Somebody call an ambulance!” I shouted as I frantically unbolted the car door.

“Kuya, open your eyes! Talk to me, Kuya!” I was tapping both of his cheeks while thick lines of red liquid trickled down his head. “Kuya, please, don’t do this to me. Open your eyes, please!” I tried to blink back the tears and focused on feeling for his pulse.

“Cacai…” he weakly mumbled as he squinted his eyes. “Cai…”

I suddenly felt relieved even for just a few seconds. “Kuya, just stay awake, okay? The ambulance would be here any minute. Please, don’t fall asleep, Kuya.” I leaned my head against his chest, wanting to hear his heartbeat close to my ears for reinsurance.

“Don’t cry, kid…” he murmured but I couldn’t stop shedding tears when I looked at his face. It was covered with blood.

“Kuya, I’m scared. Don’t leave me.”

“It’s going to be okay, Cai,” he breathed, wiping the tears away from my cheeks and smiling faintly. “Kuya’s here.”

“Don’t die. Promise me you won’t die,” I sobbed.

“You do know I love you, right, kid? Always have, always will.”

“I love you, too, Kuya. Now just stay awake, okay? I need you to stay awake for me.”

“I promise,” he whispered as I tightly held his hand.

---

“Continue CPR. I need a bigger ET tube for the intubation!”

“Push point-five milligrams of epi. Charge defib at 200.”

“Charging! Everyone, clear!”

“No response. Charge at 300. Clear!”

“Charge at 360. Clear!”

“Push another point-five of epi.”

The whole ER was in chaos. There were five or six doctor attending to my brother, including Dad and Ate Phoebe. I couldn’t even tell who’s giving out the orders, whose voices belong to whom. There were sounds of medical instruments clanking against each other but it was the annoying bleeping of the cardiac monitor that was making me insane.

I feel so helpless, standing a few feet away from my brother and not doing anything. I wanted to stay beside him, at least hold his hand so he’d know that I’m here but the nurses wouldn’t allow it per strict orders from my dad.

“Please, I need to be with my brother. Please!” I cried to the nurse who was trying to restrain me. I was really close to kneeling down the cold floor just to prove my earnest imploration. But when a heard a long, beeping sound, my knees immediately gave up on their own. It was all I could not to scream from my very spot.

“Time of death,” it was my sister’s voice, trembling with what I could only put as grief and anguish. “Two forty-three AM.”

---

I already expected to see a surprised look painted on his face upon opening the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this myself but I just need to talk to someone who’s not going to dictate me what to do with my life.”

He pursed his lips together and smiled, “Come in, Cars.”