One Hundred Fifty

39 - Just One Day

I gripped on his arm as if it's the thing that will save me from falling on a thousand needles. I can see my breath forming like a smoke on the air pero nagpatuloy kami sa paglalakad. Even if it's cold, even if  it's snowing and the only thing we're wearing is the same clothes with pack of sweats from the summer of the Philippines just an hour before we landed here.

"Malapit na ba tayo?"

"Malapit na malapit na." He answered as my grip on him tightened.

We have no cars, no foods, no bags, only our stolen money from our family and the ache in our hearts.

Our feet stopped walking infront a small wooden house, covered in a maroon palette and brown cream, two windows, one door, bike at the garage, in front of it is a hill and a sunset to be seen. Two big old oak tree beside it, it was the most perfect house for our hiding session, peaceful, green, and no one to find our existence.

As we entered inside my eyes glisten.

Everything is clean, but the house is clearly have an owner with an obessesion of painting. Instead of book in the book shelves, it's a color palette, wooden canvas everywhere, and every size of the Starry Night.

But what made my heart filled with warmth, is my face on the wall. Painted with tall grass, butterflies inside the starry night picture.

"I'n sorry... Is it too much? Did it creep you out?"

I faced him, his jaw's not aligned, his eyes cannot meet mine, he has indifference with emotion, something that I would always have. He can be selfish, he cannot prioritize me in most cases but he's... awfully beautiful as he tries his best.

"You always do the best for me, Clark."

I heard people with autism spectrum syndrome, have difficulty opening up to new people, to changes, and hard to understand normality of the world they're living in. But in fact, I'm the one who can't perceive well, the cycle of what they call a normal human mind.

Why would they cheat, why would they deceive, why would they lie, why would they choose every choices but to not hurt their loved ones? Why, people?

Why would they want us to separate just because he isn't their own definition of a "good partner" for me? Who are they to dictate who'm I'm gonna spend my own life? They are my parents, but they cannot control me. Us!

We change into a more comfortable clothes, what we were wearing back in our Province, which is a simple casual shirt is still what we wore up to Canada. We weren't even expecting to fly away that day. But it just happened. It may be impulsive. But I want to prove to them how Clark can be a loving partner, that can make me happy.

I looked at him as he's one by one opening the drawers, he then looked at me and with his blinking mannerisms, I smiled. "Hello."

"Hello. We don't have food by the way."

I laughed. "Of course we don't. Should I go out for some groceries?"

"Neither do we have money."

I laughed some more upon realizing. "What a life we're living."

He looked down while walking to cross our distance and tugged my shirt, for a second of silence, he glance quickly at me. "Sorry..."

"Hey." I said. I want to hug him, but  it'll make him startle. "Ako naman ang may pakana nito. Ako ang nag pumilit."

"Yeah, but... I was the one who made the p-plan."

"Hey, hey, it's all right..." I looked at him but of course, he can't make eye contact with me.

"I have my bank account with me, hindi pa naman kina-cut nina Dad, though we have to withdraw somewhere far away from this para hindi ma-track..."

He nodded. "Can you stay here for awhile? I'll do it."

"I will. Ngayon ka na ba pupunta?"

"Yes, unless you want to die from hunger which will be really painful and slow."

My laugh echoed as he smiled. Something he always does when I smile as he said my giggles are contagious.

Clark left with a piled jackets on him. He's gonna walk miles away from this home, cold and winter, but he said he can do something about it. He may have a mentality of a 12-year-old but his wits and arts are far away from that. And I know him. I trust him.

I roamed around the house, woody, warm, and pretty with a little sweep because it did looked like a witch house from the 18 hundreds. But my legs are too wobbly and weak to move back and forth with a broom in my hands. My energy are just enough for a roaming. The living room have a big set of sofa in front of a two big book shelves, not the usual television. The books mostly consist of arts and musics. The other one, dvd's and classical cd. A tall jar that reached the height of my waist is resting at the side of the shelf, inside is a dead plant laying all brown.

The mat are soft yarn that looks like a fur with a drawings of The Starry Night. The staircase are not the usual white wooden but full of black, blue, and yellow at each side of handles. The mat upon these are pure white but with a scribble of a Starry Night but it seems like it's an extended version. It seems that everything in here are things that interest Clark, the kitchen are almost empty of utensils while the living room are packs of books, and the walls always have some parts of scribbles. I smiled upon standing at a side where I can see everything from left to right except the second floor.

Clark didn't gave me any warning on the limitations or what to do and what's not to do inside his house. So, I'm assuming I'm allowed everywhere. Especially, this will be our house.

The staircase only leads to one room. I twist the cold doorknob, a screech followed and then a cold wind began to blow on my face. Darkness. I searched for the switch and when I lighted it up... I gaped at what's inside the room.

A screech at the door step, and a sound between a clashing plastic.

"Honey?"

I heard. I immediately got up from laying in the sofa.

"Y-you're here." He said and looked at me.

I smiled a little bit. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you go upstairs? There's a bedroom there."

I looked first, intensely in his eyes, and then at the groceries in his hands, slowly pasting a smile. "It was locked. Why didn't you gave me the keys?"

He stood in a pause, his jaws uneven, and he cannot, never again, looked at me after that. He stayed silent.