Gray Skies

“YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE PROVINCE OF CAVITE” the sign on the road proclaimed with big, white letters as the car paced the wet expressway. Good thing, the rain that’s been pouring since last night has wilted into a drizzle, its drops staining the car’s windshield like tiny dots that are erased by the windshield wipers. The sea beside the expressway is a gray area of fog, as if the waters are reflecting the gray sky above and its nimbus clouds—angry sentinels saying that its rage is not yet over. Inside the car, two friends are talking about the birthday party they attended the previous night.
“Last night was one hell of a party,” Rick, the one driving the car, said. “If it wasn’t because of the rain, Dave’s party would’ve continued on until this morning.”
“You’d be so drunk to drive home then,” the woman, who was sitting beside Rick, replied.
“No way. I wasn’t even drunk last night. It’s you who’s drunk.”
“Weh? I recall seeing you sitting on the corner with your head down,” She took a small make-up kit from a bag resting on her lap. “What were you doing there, anyway? Throwing up?”
Rick smiled. “Of course not.”
“Since when did you have a high tolerance for alcohol?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. You used to know me very well.”
She fell silent. She busied herself by putting on a lipstick, her eyes focused on a compact mirror on one hand. Rick gazed at the foggy road ahead. He glimpsed on the red-colored text the digital clock on the dashboard told him. It was nearly noon.
“I told you to wake up early if you’ll ride with me,” he said.
She closed the compact mirror while smacking her lips. “Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. The tequila hit me hard.”
“So you admit that you were drunk last night?” Rick chuckled.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Naku, I remember you gripping my arm when the thunder roared—”
“Shut up.”
Rick laughed, although he wasn’t sure if it was laughter of joy or if it’s laughter by force. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting that you fell asleep earlier than the rest of us—”
“Keep on talking and I’ll shove my make-up kit down your throat.”
“All right, I’m sorry,” Rick sneered. “But it was fun, right?”
“Yes it was. Especially the videoke.”
“You didn’t sing the song I requested though.”
“There was none in the song book.”
“There was; I saw it. And that’s why I asked you to sing it.”
“Why didn’t you punch it on the machine?”
“Because—” Rick stopped short.
“—you were drunk already?”
“No, we’ve just stated drinking when the videoke was brought out,” Rick took out a few coins from his pocket. They were nearing the toll gate. “I wasn’t just sure if you’d remember how that song became our song.”
She didn’t reply. Rick paid the toll and went on. The windshield told them that the drizzle was advancing its motion: from tiny dots, it turned into drops the size of bullet holes. The wipers found it difficult to be cleared away all at once.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Rick asked.
“No, thanks. I’m meeting someone at SM Manila. He’s the one taking me home,” she replied.
“He?”
“Yes, it’s a guy. So?”
“I never knew you were seeing other guys,” Rick said. He felt his fingers shaking on the steering wheel.
“Do I have to tell you everything that I do?” Her voice was irritated. “Don’t worry. One day, we’ll sit, have some coffee and I’ll tell you all that I’ve been doing.”
“No, I don’t mean it that way—”
“Then what? It’s none of your business anymore.”
“I’m just saying that—”
“Can’t you just concentrate on the road?” she snapped.
Rick fell silent. He pushed his feet toward the brake pedal as the other cars queued up. Ahead was an intersection; they were now entering Baclaran. The rain continued.
“Do you have an umbrella I could borrow?” she asked, gazing at the wet view of the outside.
“I got one at the backseat,” Rick answered. “If we’re lucky, the rain has halted by the time we get to your apartment—”
“You’re gonna drop me off at SM Manila.”
Rick slapped the steering wheel. “I don’t understand why you can’t let me take you to your apartment when I used to—”
“And I can’t understand why you’re interfering with the things I’m doing.”
“I’m just being kind.”
“The best thing you could do is to stay the hell out of my life. You offered me a ride, and I’m thankful for it. So please, may you just let me be?”
There was a few seconds of silence before Rick asked: “Who is he?”
“Who?”
“The guy taking you home.”
“He’s a good person. He’s happy with me and I feel the same with him. Satisfied?”
Rick felt as if he wanted to step on the gas pedal all the way down. “May you please stay out of it? You’re ruining my day,” she added.
“The day’s already ruined because of the rain,” Rick bellowed.
“Yeah, and you’re making it worse.”
They passed by Libertad and the rain was still raging on. Silence wrapped the both of them; in fact, there was no sound except for the soft rumbling of the raindrops on the car’s roof as well as the engine of the car’s hushed roaring.
It was Rick who broke the silence. “You know, I never really understood why you broke up with me.”
“My God, Rick. Can’t we not talk about—”
“Just listen to me, please? Just this once.”
“I’m getting off. I’ll take a cab. Stop the car.” She removed the seatbelt wrapped around her waist.
“Oh, come on. Just listen—”
‘Stop the car, or I’ll jump off.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up. Please don’t leave,” Rick pleaded. He stopped the car. The rain was still raging on. He looked at her. “Please, put the seatbelt back on. Don’t leave, okay?”
She didn’t answer, but she did what Rick requested. He started the car and just told himself to focus on the road ahead—the road now being washed by the rain. There was no sign of the sun ever showing its face on the gray skies.
The view of waters reflecting the gray skies and its nimbus clouds got worse as they entered the Roxas Boulevard and saw the Manila Bay which looked like a void of fog. Rick turned right to Kalaw Avenue and then left towards Taft Avenue. She started fixing her things.
Rick swallowed. “You know, last night you asked me to kiss you,” he glimpsed at her, whose face was turned to the window. “I thought you’d slap me when I did. But you didn’t. That’s when I realized you were drunk.”
When they reached SM Manila, Rick stopped the car and handed to her an umbrella. She took it and opened the car’s door on her side. The rain was still pouring heavily.
“Yeah sorry, I was drunk last night,” she said while looking at Rick. In one frozen moment, their eyes met. “Thanks for the ride, Rick,” she added before stepping out and closing the car-door.
Rick watched as she walk away, climb some steps, and enter the mall. He wished that his umbrella protect her well, even against the many more rains bound to come.