Region 1 GRADUATION by F.

Sionil Jose
I always knew that someday after I finished high school, Id go to Manila
and to college. I had looked ahead to the grand adventure with
eagerness but when it finally came, my leaving Rosales filled me with a
nameless dread and a great,swelling unhappiness that clogged my
chest.I couldnt be sure now. Maybe it was friendship, huge and granitelike, or just plain sympathy. I couldnt be sureanymore; maybe I really fell
in love when I was sixteen.Her name was Teresita. She was a proud,
stubborn girl with many fixed ideas and she even admonished me:
Justbecause you gave will be accepted.It was until after sometime that
I understootd what she meant and when she did, I honored her all the
more. Shewas sixteen, too, lovely like the banaba when its bloom.I did
not expect her to be angry with me when I bought her a dress for it
wasnt really expensive. Besides, as thedaughter of one of Fathers
tenants, she knew me very well, better perhaps than any of the people
who lived in Carmay, theyoung folks who always greeted me politely,
doffed their straw hats then, close-mouthed, went their way.I always had
silver coins in my pockets but that March afternoon, after counting all of
them and the stray pieces,too that I had tucked away in my dresser I
knew I needed more.I approach Father. He was at his working table,
writing on a ledger while behind him, one of the new servants stooderect,
swinging a palm leaf fan over Fathers head. I stood beside Father,
watched his hand scrawl the figures on the ledger,his wide brow and his
shirt damp with sweat.When he finally noticed me, I couldnt tell him
what I wanted. He unbuttoned his shirt to his paunch. Well, what isit?
Im going to take my classmates this afternoon to the restaurant,
Father. I said. Father turned to the sheaf of papers before him. Sure,
he said. You can tell Bo King to take off what you and your friends can
eat from his rent thismonth.I lingered uneasily, avoiding the servants
eyes. Well, wont that do? Father asked. It was March and the
highschool graduation was but a matter of days away. I also need a
little money, Father. I said. I have to buy something.Father nodded.
He groped for his keys in his drawer the he opened the iron money box

beside him and drew out a ten-pesobill. He laid it on the table.Im going
to buy I tried to explain but with a wave of his hand, he dismissed me.
He went back to his figures. Itwas getting late. Sepa, our eldest maid, was
getting the chickens to their coops. I hurried to the main road which was
quitedeserted now except in the vicinity of the round cement
embankment in front of the municipal building where loafers weretaking in
the stale afternoon sun. The Chinese storekeepers who occupied
Fathers buildings had lighted their lamps. Fromthe ancient artesian well
at the rim of the town plaza, the water carriers and servant girls babbled
while they waited fortheir turn at the pump. Nearby, travelling merchants
had unhitched their bullcarts after a whole day of travelling from townto
tonw and were cooking their supper on broad, blackened stones that
littered the place. At Chan Hais \store there was aboy with a stick of
candy in his mouth, a couple of men drinking beer and smacking their lips
portentously, and a womanhaggling over a can of sardines.I went to the
huge bales of cloth that slumped in one corner of the store, I picked out
the silk, white cloth withglossy printed flowers. I asked Chan Hai, who
was perched on a stool smoking his long pipe, how much hed ask for
thematerial I had picker for a gown.Chan Hai peered at me in surprise;
Ten pesos he said.With the package, I hurried to Camay. In the
thickening dusk the leaves of the acacias folded and the solemn,mellow
chimes of the Angelus echoed to the flat, naked stretches of the town.
The women who had been sweeping theiryards paused; children
reluctantly hurried to their homes for now the town was draped with a
dreamy stillness.Teresita and her father lived by the creek in Carmay. The
house was on a sandy lot which belonged to Father; it wasapart front the
cluster of huts peculiar to the village. Its roof as it was with the other
farmers homes, thatched anddisheveled, its walls were of battered buri
leaves. It was washed away. Madre de cacao trees abounded in the
vicinity butoffered scanty shade. Piles of burnt rubbish rose in little
mounds in the yard and a disrupted line of ornamental SanFrancisco
fringed the graveled path led to the house.

Teresita was sampling the brothe of what she was cooking in the
kitchen . There was a dampness in her brow and aredness in

her eyes.What are you doing here at this hour? she

confronted me. In the glow of the crackling stove fire, she
lookedgenuinely surprised.I could tell her at once or show her
what I had brought. I wanted to see you, I said, which was
true. But its reallylate and you have walk quite a long way
back, she said. She laid down the ladle on the table and looked
puzzled. She musthave noticed w\then what I was holding
behind me.I laid m package on the wooden table cluttered with
tin plates and vegetables.Its for you I said, My face burned
like kindling wood. I hope you like it.Here eyes still one me,
she opened the package. When she saw what it was, she gave
a tiny, muffled cry. Sheshooked her head, wrapped it back then
gave it to me. I cant, she said softly. It doesnt seem right
for me to accept it.But you need it and Im giving it to you. I
said firmly, the burning in my face ease at last. Is there
anything wrongin giving one a gift?And that was when she
said, There are thing you just cant give away such as you are
doing now..I think it all started that evening when we were in
the third year and Teresita recited a poem. It was during the
graduationexercise and she was the only Junior in the program.
I cant remember distinctly what the piece was about except
that it wassomething that tugged my heart. She spoke of faith
and love and as she did, clamminess gripped me, smothered
me with afeeling I never felt before. I recall her edged resonant
voice cleaving the hushed evening. I was silently one with her.
Wedidnt go home immediately after the program for a dance in
honor of the graduates followed. Miss Santillan, who was

incharge of the refreshments, asked me to wait for her so she

would have company when shed go home. Teresita
helpedserve the refreshments as usual. I sat on one of the
school benches after I got tired of watching the dancers file in
and out,giggling. When most of them had eaten, Teresita asked
permission from Miss Santillan to leave.My father, Maam she
said. He doesnt want me to stay out very late because of my
cough. Besides, I have workto go early tomorrow.Going
home alone? Miss Santillan asked.Im not afraid, she said.I
stood up, strode past the table laden with a an assortment of
trays and glasses. From the window, I saw the moondangling
over the sprawling school buildings like a huge sieving basket
and the world was us, pulsating and young.Ill walk with
you I said.She protested at first but Miss Santillan said it was
best I went along with her. After Miss Santillan had
wrappedsome cakes for her, we descended the stone steps.
The evening was clean and cool like a newly washed sheet. It
engulfed usand we didnt speak for some time.I live very far,
she reminded me later. She drew a shabby shawl over her thin
wasted shoulders.I know, Ive been there. I told her.Youll
be very tiredIve walked longer distances. I can take Carmay
in a run. I tried to impress her.Im very sure of that, she
said. You are strong. Once, I was washing in the river and you
outraced the others.I didnt see you, I said.Of course,
she said bitingly, You never notice the children of your tenants,
except those who serve in yourhouse.Her remark stunned me
and I couldnt speak at once. That is not true. I said meekly.

 I go to Carmay often.She must have realize that she had hurt

me jfor when she spoke again, she sounde genuinely sorry.
That was notwhat I meant, she said. And I didnt say that
to spite you.Again silence. The moon drifted jout of the clouds
and lighted up the dusty mud. It glimmered on parched fields
and on the buripalms that stood like hooded sentinels. Most of
the houses we passed had a long brown out their kerosene
lamps. Once in awhile, a dog stirred in its bed of dust and
growled at us.You wont be afraid going home alone? she
made alight after a while.There is a giang capri near the
bridge which comes out when the moon is full, I said. Id like
to see it. Ive neverseen a ghost.When I die., she laughed.
I'll appear before you. You'll be a good ghost and I wont be
afraid, I said.
On we trudged. We talked more about ourselves, about
the friends that we ought to have but didn't. Wewalked on
to where the row of homes receded and finally reached
her house near the river that murmured as itcut a course
over reeds and shallows.When we went up the house, her
father was already asleep. In fact, he was snoring heavily. At the
door,she bade me good night and thanked me. Then slowly, she
closed the door behind her.So the eventful year passed, the
rains fell, the fields became green and the banabas in the
yardblossomed. The land became soggy and the winds
lashed at Rosales severely, bowling over score of flimsy
hutsthat stood on lean bamboo stilts. Our house didnt
budged in the mightiest typhoon; with us, nothing
changed.The harvest with it's usual bustle passed, the

tenants among whom was Teresita's father- filled our

spaciousstore house with their crops. The drab, dry
season with it's choking dust settled oppressively and
when marchcame, it was time for Teresita and I to
graduate.Throughout a whole, hot afternoon we rehearsed
our part for the graduation program. We would marchto the
platform to take our high school diplomas. When the sham was
over, Teresita and I rested on the steps of the crude school
stage.She nudged at me: I will not attend the graduation
exercises. I can feign illness. I can say I had a fever ormy
cough got worse - which is the truth anyway.Why? No one
would miss me in the march if I don't come.You are
foolish, I said.I can't have my picture, too, I suppose.I don't
believe you.I can't come. I just can't,she repeated with
finality.She didn't have to say anything more. I understood,
and that afternoon I asked money from father to buya
graduation for Teresita.And that same week, father ordered
Teresita's father, who farmed a lot in the delta in Carmay, to
vacatethe place as father had sold it. Teresita's father had
to settle in the hills of Balungaow where there were
small,vacant parcels, arable patches in the
otherwise rocky mountainside. There, he might literally
scratch the Earth toeke out a living.April, and a hot glaring
sun filtered rudely through the dusty glass shatters and
formed a dazzling puddleon the floor where father
lounged. The dogs that lolled in the shade of the
acacia tree struck out their tonguesand panted.The
smudges of grass in the plaza where a stubbly brown; the
sky was cloudless and azure. From thekitchen window,
Sepa, the maid, asked me to come up the house. Father,
she said, had something important totell me.He was at the

balcony reading and fanning himself languidly. The question he

asked stunned me, When do you want to leave for the city?