THE DARK OF THE MOON

STORY MANUSCRIPT
6-9-29-04



“We wear a mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes; This debt we pay to human guile, with torn and bleeding hearts we smile.”

On the inbox of his cellular phone, Gabriel read Jhian’s message. He didn’t answer back. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that message.

“May you have the courage to admit your versions of lies and truths so you can rest in peace.” Jhian sent him another message which this time sounded like a threat. He ignored it again.

---------------


Gabriel and Jhian had been acquaintance for about a year. Both of them worked in the same organization and on the same project. They were thrown together into each other’s company most of their working hours. They had good working relationship but he barely knew her on a more intimate or personal level. Gabriel appreciated Jhian for her dedication and intense commitment to her work; sometimes to a fault because she was rather a perfectionist. Jhian, on her part, admired Gabriel for being straightforward and disciplined in his work. The two of them were not exactly good friends but they got along quite well in their jobs, and had shared casual and sometimes intense exchanges of opinions on current issues and on a variety of subjects which became conversation pieces during break periods. Most of the time, Gabriel enjoyed playing to the hilt the role of “The Lecturer” in every conversation they had.

After the success of a big project they did in December last year, Gabriel begun to look at Jhian from a different perspective. Their frequent interactions the past months made him realized she was not only intelligent --- she had depth. Maybe, her being an artist sort of added to that interesting profile. She was a painter and a writer in her spare time, simultaneous with being an NGO volunteer worker in her community.

The times they were together, Gabriel took every opportunity to study her person more intently. She had an air of sensuality with the way she moved and stared at people’s faces. And while she smoked and gulped brandy like there was no tomorrow -- Gabriel’s great turnoff in a woman, he was starting to be drawn to her.

They begun staying in the office quite late discussing things, office-related or not, or just simply hanging out. They “burned” their cellular phones calling or exchanging text messages, funny or serious. He experienced her wit, her humor, her sometimes “abnormalities” (she really was a character when greatly irritated or freaked out). He often teased her about being the founding president of the “Nine-Elevens” --- his imaginary club for people who exhibited tense behavior even in the coolest of situations. Artists have abnormal streaks, that was her line of defense.

He begun to miss her. Did she miss him, too? She was not saying though. In one of their text conversations, she told him: “If missing you is a choice, I will say it.”

“That’s a statement subject to interpretation and misinterpretation. What choice do you have? A question that will not be answered, anyway,” he was conditioned to receiving hanging answer from her.

He got the surprise of his life when she replied. “I miss you, clear as the light above me. Hope the light will shine on you, too.”

How he missed her! She seemed to be in her playful mood at that time. He wanted to see her at that instance, to feel her presence, to lock her in an embrace for the first time. But that was impossible because he was somewhere in Baguio attending a workshop; she was at their office in Manila. He called her up immediately the moment there was a break in the workshop to tell her how he missed her terribly.

“I missed you, too. But why should I miss you?” she was childishly asking him and he smiled to himself. He loved her girlish charm. It showed quite often now.

He told her over the phone, “It will be something Freudian which you don’t believe.”

He recalled their bits of discussion over Sigmund Freud. He was telling her (as if she didn’t know) that the unconscious is made of unacceptable, disturbing, even disgusting wishes and fantasies which originate from forgotten events in infancy and childhood. The repression of these traumatic memories leads to repressed emotions that can be accessed through psychoanalysis. She was not in complete agreement with the allusion to sexuality of that Freudian discussion. He withheld telling her about his dream the previous night --- that of his sexual fantasies with her. She would only laugh it off. She was MisBeliever, that was another monicker he coined for her during their light banters. Jhian had this tendency to prove things first before believing in anything said, never mind if the person saying it was somebody who was credible.

“Maybe this time, we will reverse the process. You will be the one to analyze me, instead of me doing that. Or you may want to join the Freudian Club if you want to be a psychoanalyst,” Jhian told him one time that when she was in college, she wanted to be a psychologist or a therapist but the career plan was shelved off. She ended up as a Mass Com graduate, instead.

She replied, “I won’t be an effective analyst if you are the patient. I might end up satisfying your needs and longings. The rule of abstinence must be applied for psychoanalysis to be effective.”

“Then, forget about the rule of abstinence. Be my psychoanalyst. Give me the strokes I need, ” in half-jest, he told her. By strokes, he meant kisses and touches; she knew the term he was using. His imaginations of her ran wild and he remembered again his dream. He felt a surge of passion.

“I want to be alone with you in a place where we can be free to express our feelings for each other.”

When he came back from Baguio, they met for lunch. She said, “I decided to open my heart to you. I have to introduce this liberating behavior in my everyday life. Call me a free spirit now.” She seemed to have loosened up with her emotion.

When he held her hand, he felt a spark. Their eyes held for a moment.

“Why do you feel something for me?” she asked him this question.

“I will answer that in an intimate moment – when I can kiss your lips and feel you …” she was blushing when he looked at her reaction.

“Where is she in your life? I know you love her,” she was referring to his wife. That was the first time, in all their conversations, that she brought out the subject about his wife. He retorted. “If I ask you the same question, what will your answer be?”

“You can love someone even when the feeling is gone. I care about someone the most, but I love someone else.” He was surprised again by her answer. Her openness was quite disarming.

“Mine echoes something like what you said.”

He remembered those moments in April. She was crying initially when they were climbing the stairs leading to the room. Her behavior confused him. Earlier, when they were driving to that place, she was in a good spirit. His heart softened when he saw her crying. He had second thoughts about pushing into her what he termed the culmination of an adult decision. But when he kissed her and she responded to his kisses, he felt again a surge of passion. Was it love? Was it lust? He was enjoying the moment, he wished there would be no interruptions or holding back from her. He held her tightly in an embrace. She embraced him, too and kissed him back. She was a good kisser! He took her clothes off and led her to the bed. Her body was soft; her skin, flawless, and she smelled the scent of a perfume that seemed only to increase her sensuality and his desire. He explored her body and discovered her Grafenberg or G spot. He was consumed by his passion as she reciprocated in a manner devoid of all inhibitions now.

When the passion subsided, he knew for sure, he lost himself completely to this woman. He had not been this way with any other woman in his life, not even with his wife. He was always in control of every situation.

“What if I fall in love with you?” Jhian asked him, looking directly into his eyes.

“No, don’t do that.” He avoided her gaze. He was confused. He told her to dress up so they could leave the room within an hour.

While inside the car, he begged her, “Please … rise above this situation. I want us to remain friends.” He did not notice the hurt look in her eyes.

For two weeks Gabriel avoided Jhian. He was overwhelmed by this turn of event But he refused to acknowledge Jhian’s own feelings. I have a family and a reputation to protect!

Jhian sent Gabriel a note to inform him that she was on her way to a retreat to find her versions of truth. She wrote him a longer note after her retreat, telling him how sorry she was for having fallen too deeply for him; for loving him that much when her intuition was telling her that the feeling was not mutual. She expressed her desire to talk to him the soonest. She said, she was already starting to harbor a “hate feeling”; she didn’t want to suppress this negative emotion because this was a harsh way of handling it --- that the problem with repression was that those negative feelings would never go away; they would just fester deep inside and could cause her emotional imbalance. She didn’t want this to happen. Anguish was written all over her letter and he was not exactly that callous not to feel her pain. But he was not prepared to confront her yet. Something was holding him back.

It took Gabriel another month to gather enough courage to communicate with Jhian and he did this only when unintentional crossing of paths along the office corridors became too obvious to be avoided. Still, he did not muster his guts to talk to her personally. He sent text messages.

“How are you?”

“Are you punishing me?”

“I’m sorry. Tell me what to do to make you happy.”

“Happiness is a moment only. It does not last long. Why worry about someone you don’t care about?”

“Who told you? Please come over, I miss you.”

“It will pain me to see you.”

“Why?”

“You have to enter into my pain to know that.”

“Please, let me enter.”

“Why a change of heart?”

“There was no change of heart.”

“You miss me because you want to do it with me again. Isn’t this true?”

“Yes and no. Yes, because I love you. No, because it’s deeper than what you think. Can we meet tonight?”

There was no answer. He just saw her through the glass panel separating their cubicles, leaving in a huff.

For the next two months, Gabriel was only catching a glimpse of her in the office. She seemed to be evading him. He did not have the courage to approach her.

He justified his behavior. It is better that way. I will not have to explain. She is already putting a closure to what happened; the burden will not rest on me.

He remembered his last text message to her in September, “I am married, you are, too. But I want to keep this relationship.” He was not sure what she was thinking about.

Before September ended, the two of them came face to face again during an office meeting. She looked rather fine and striking in her casual red blouse and maong pants. She took a seat beside him. What is she thinking? He dared not ask. At that time, he was not feeling well. He had colds.

During a 15-minute break, she went out and he saw her making a call in her cellular phone. She appeared too engrossed in an intimate conversation with somebody.

“Who is he?” he asked her.

She ignored him and returned to the conference room but changed her seat. Prior to changing seats, he saw her putting a bottle of coke and a sandwich on the space he occupied.

“Thank you.” he texted her. It was his way of getting her attention.

“Thank you for what?”

“For the cold soft drinks… you know it will aggravate my coughing bouts. Ah, you are still angry with me.” Gabriel made a silent but funny coughing gesture that Jhian could not control her giggle. That guy has a way of appeasing me.

After the meeting which lasted until 5:30 PM, she went ahead and returned to her cubicle. He rung her cell phone and invited her to his cubicle. They talked for two hours. Gabriel asked her how she was feeling now. Jhian confessed she had already forgiven herself for that April tryst. She committed the mistake but it did not mean she was a mistake. She said she had started to move on with her life. She did not mention about her own feelings for him though. But she asked a lot of questions --- grilled him about a woman friend, asked how special that girl was to him. He told her that indeed, he showed special attention to that woman because she had problems at that time, but that was how far he went. He even teased her that she was starting to sound like a police investigator for her intense questioning. But she was in a rather pleasant mood and she seemed unaffected by their negative discussion.
When it was time to go home, Gabriel wanted to kiss her but Jhian maintained a safe distance from him. They exchanged text messages the following day.

“Hi, have you taken your medicine?” she asked him.

“Yes, and thanks. I miss you?”

“Looks like you don’t.”

“I do. When are we going out?”

“Tell me first the destination, agenda?” Was she cautious?

“It will be the same agenda as before, only this time, we’re going to a much better place.”

“Get well first.”

“If I’m well, then when are we going out?”

“You’ll call the shot.”

“Are you going to let others know about this plan?” He asked her this question, having recalled an article she wrote to a friend she called Jedi, a copy of which she gave to him. She told him this was the guy she shared secrets with, the person who was with her during the critical moments of her life when she was feeling scorned and angry with him.

“We’re not going to an orgy, are we? Why should I flaunt about my own private business?”

He laughed at her answer. “It’s better if we understand each other. So, our date will be exclusive for us only, promise?”

Don’t you trust me? I can keep secrets like you do. But answer this question first: are you falling for me?”

“Long before you knew it. How about you?”

“Didn’t you say, don’t fall in love? You said that on April Fools.”

“True, but what is your feeling for me now?”

“You better guess. Palmread me or read through the cards.”

“I’m not from Quiapo,” Gabriel sounded a bit impatient. “I have some doubts about what you really feel for me.”

“One doesn’t do something intimate for experimental purposes. Maybe, it’s you who play that game.”
“Why do I feel so much this way about you?”

“Maybe, you are still reeling from that guilt – from turning your back against me … Mr. Free Spirit or Mr. Chickboy? Choose.”

He ignored her repartee. “You know, I want to be intimate with you for a long time.”

“My time’s running out so it won’t be long.”

“If it’s intimate, it’s still okay even if it’s for a short time. Maybe this time, we’ll be happier.” He was recalling those tense hours of their initial tryst.

“If you don’t play with people’s emotions, you’re bound to be happy.”

“When are we going out?”

“Get well first. Drink plenty of water or juices. No soda, please.”

“I’m happy with you. Can I kiss you for a long time?”

“Not for a long time, it will be a kiss of death.”

“Then, I will make love to you for a long time. I’ll make you enjoy.”

“Pity your grandma. She’ll be dead tired.” Was she flirting?

“You’re right, she’ll be dead tired because we’ll do it more than once.”

Jhian was silent after agreeing on the schedule of their next private meeting --- that would be two weeks from this conversation. He was anticipating their date. He missed her terribly. How he longed to be with her again, touch her, make love to her.

The second time they did it, Gabriel realized how deeply she loved him. In the heat of their passion, in between her moans, he heard her professed her love for him a couple of times. He wished that moment would linger long. I love you, Jhian. This time, Gabriel meant it.


-------------------------


Now, she had sent those text messages. What was she up to?

That afternoon, he opened his email to read a poem she wrote for him.




The Cloak of Deception


Today, she will kiss the shadow goodbye
What does it matter if some nights
Were shattered by the thoughts of you.

Those were the nights she thought she loved you.

She looked at the sky and listened to its secrets,
She dared the wind to blow the unspeakable ---
To reveal the undisguised you.
It was not enough – that bond of affection
Did not keep you from roaming freely;
Your search did not end with one.

Hush! The nights were shattered then.
It doesn’t matter now.

She no longer loves you. That’s certain.
Or, maybe
She never have really loved you at all.



---------------------

During the months he was ignoring her, Jhian, was back to her old form ---- a woman who was wont to accepting her lot just sitting down while she harbored some doubts in her heart. She wondered why he kept his silence over what happened that April; why he avoided her like plague during those times she desperately wanted to talk. Yes, he was very much married, she knew and accepted this truth because she loved him, yet his behavior and reactions seemed so odd; there was something wrong somewhere. As her woman’s intuition told her, she just had to dig in to unravel either the truth or the lie. She put to good use her assets and resources in the underground. Her close comrades aided her through their intelligence network.

True enough, she uncovered a secret he was successfully keeping from his wife, the rest of his friends and colleagues, and from her -- he was carrying on a clandestine affair with a co-worker --- the woman-friend she had asked him about. Jhian and a mutual friend of the two were alternating as unwitting beards in that affair.

Gabriel thought everything looked too perfect for hiding the dark of the moon. He underestimated her. He never really knew her. In the underground, she was codenamed Black Lily. Her comrades had high respect for her person. No one who maligned her came out unscathed.

Jhian hated Gabriel for making a fool out of her. She already discovered the truth about the other woman who was not the wife, yet, she still went on with her liaison with him, the second time. Maybe, she really loved him. The opposite of love was not hate, but apathy..

But an injustice was done to her and the culprit must be punished in the manner the Comrades ruled. Jhian was certain of her next move. She rung Jedi, her trusted right hand. He was only awaiting for her order.