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BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Friday, November 10, 2017
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XVI. LULLABY
Watching the sleeping child smile in its innocent sleep, he understood the meaning of the word “precious.”
*
Taken by the blur of Matt grabbing the baby, Cleopatra asked, What was that?
A baby obviously, answered Ursula, and eyeing Matt, added, And some irresponsible drunk father guilty of child neglect.
That one needs Bantay-Bata intervention, said the Meniko-esque beauty.
Matt stopped, crimson anger coloring his face.
He was about to breathe fire on them, but thought the better of it.
He left with the baby in his arms.
*
Ursula, ranted drunkenly, I can’t understand people like that.
I don’t intend to produce an offspring, but I love babies.
They are adorable. Little cherubim.
That’s why I can’t understand parents who would leave a baby in the middle of the road where any number of harms might befall it.
*
Cleopatra just brushed her off, Well, Ursie, welcome to the new millennium!
Matt overheard the transvestites but just shook his head.
No need to lose his cool.
Guitar strapped across his back, knapsack to his side, and now cradling the baby in his arms, he walked to the beach, and sang a popular Ilonggo lullaby to the infant,
Ili-ili, tulog anay
Wala diri, imo nanay
Kadto tienda, bakal papay
Ili-ili, tulog anay.
*
The baby smiled a baby smile, and closed its eyes in sleep.
Matt continued walking past a group of almost naked teenagers barbecuing hotdogs on a stick around a dying bonfire.
Then he realized, Wow! I actually sang a lullaby to a real baby.
A real baby in my arms, and it feels good. So good!
And the baby smiled at me.
As if he really liked my voice. (To be continued)/PN
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