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[av_heading heading=’MY LIFE AS ART ‘ tag=’h3′ style=’blockquote modern-quote’ size=’30’ subheading_active=’subheading_below’ subheading_size=’15’ padding=’10’ color=” custom_font=”]
BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Monday, October 23, 2017
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- THREE DRUNK SHRIMP
An ancient action song remembered: “I saw three ducklings—small, medium, and large. One raised its tail, spread its wings, and flapped, flapped, flapped!”
*
Once again, street performers enticed Matt to join the dancing.
But he resisted, broke away from the crowd, and escaped into a dark, tiny alley.
He had not gone very far when he was accosted by three men in shrimp costumes.
The thinnest asked, Got a fifty?
Sorry, Matt replied.
Come on, said the fattest of the three, just for a bottle of gin.
*
I really don’t have any, of course, he lied.
He knew better than to blindly give to parasitic drunks.
It is like the experience of giving alms to the street children in Manila.
You give to one, and a swarm will haunt you until you feel like Jesus Christ drained of all divine strength and power to heal.
The thinnest shrimp closed in, How can you go to the festival penniless? You’re clearly not from this island.
*
The medium sized shrimp added, You got to have something. For food, lodging, drinks.
You’re not from here, the fattest shrimp asserted.
My grandma was, said Matt. Mercedes Luces?
“The Legend of Isla Pulang Pasayan?” he hoped they would remember her name.
Never heard of her, said fatso.
Give us some gin money, insisted the matchstick.
*
I’m really sorry.
Thin shrimp’s tone turned threatening, Do you want us to beat you up?
Oh, come on, guys, fatso said to the others to soften things.
We’re here to have fun. Let’s not start any trouble, okay?
Medium shrimp turned to Matt, You’re a musician, aren’t you? You carry a guitar.
Fat shrimp suggested, So, why don’t you sing us a song?
Medium shrimp rejoined, Yes, sing us a song! Sing a song!
*
Thin shrimp said, Do it, kid. That’s the only way we’re letting you get away.
Matt didn’t have to think hard.
He nodded okay. Performed an exaggerated rendition of the action song “Tatlo ka Pato” as his grandmother had taught him, acting out the gestures suggested by the song about finding three ducklings of small, medium, and big sizes, one raised its tail, spread its wings, and went flapping them all around:
Tatlo ka pato, ang nakita ko
Matambok, maniwang, pulupareho;
Apang ang isa, ikog nagaalsa
Humlad ang pakpak, kag mag kapakapa.
*
Holding the last note, Matt turned around, and let out a big fart.
The shrimp men laughed hard until they smelled the acrid gas.
They backed off, fanning off the smell from their noses with their claws.
Matt gave them his funky salute, and escaped. (To be continued)/PN
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