The young man headed down to their small hall with a heavy body and still half-closed eyes.
It's almost lunch time but he's still sleepy. He wouldn't have woken up from his slumber if it wasn't for the noise he heard downstairs. The giggles woke him up.
'Mharc is with her friends again. The house will be in a mess again,' he thought. He wrinkled his face but he had no intention of reprimanding Mharc for the things the latter was enjoying.
"Ay! Bet ni Aketchiwa ang fezlak ng fafabol na 'yan!" (Oh! I like his face!) said a familiar female voice in a less flirtatious tone, instead it was soft but with a slight edge.
"Ay! Akes din, bet ang fezlalu ni Fafa! Pak na pak!" (Oh! Mee too, I love it! He’s so handsome!) answered a shrill voice followed by the girls giggling again. The loud thuds of his heavy footsteps were overshadowed by those giggles.
'Looks like Mharc has only one guest today.'
He was only halfway down their stairs as he recognized the voices he heard.
He knew his sister Mharc was the second to speak. With her shrill voice and high pitch tone alone, it was undeniable that it belonged to his younger sister.
'What is that girl talking about? Her voice sounded like that girl from last night. It can’t be her…' His thoughts trailed off as he ran towards the giggling voices, in front of their television in the small hall.
'She’s not the one with Mharc. Right! That is unlikely to happen. Mharc’s reaction will be the opposite, she won't giggle like that if she saw that scary angel.’
He tried to convince himself that his hunch was wrong. The woman he was thinking about was not who his sister was talking to.
"Angel," he said the moment he saw who was with Mharc. At the sight of her beside his sister made his still half-closed eyes wide-opened.
The two young ladies were sitting side by side on their old sofa. Both holding a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a piece of bread on the other. There were a few pieces of bread on a plate resting on their small center table.
He caught the young ladies’ attention from the television. Mharc threw him a spiteful smile while the other girl plastered a bewildered look on her face.
"Hey, brotherness! Magandarang morning!" (Hey, brother! Good morning!) his sister greeted him energetically. But he really can’t understand that language.
"Nalatelalu ka yata ng wakesung, a?" (You seemed to have woken up so late, e?) He can’t figure out why but he felt like she was teasing him. "You namern kase, mangsisinging bee ka na lang sa jowaers mo sa late night show pa hanggang madaling araw. Pero nangharana nga lang ba talaga?" (It's your fault though. You choose to serenade your girl at midnight until dawn. But did you really just serenade her?) she added followed by her laughs. Until now she’s still wearing that annoying smile she's been throwing at him since earlier.
‘What is this kid talking about?’ No matter how hard he tried, he really couldn't understand what his sister was saying and what was with her sarcastic tone.
"Sinech jowaers, Beks?" (Girlfriend who, Beks?) It’s the other person they were with, the female stranger which he thought his sister easily felt comfortable with.
'What a miracle? How is it possible that Mharc liked and agreed with the girl I was with. She always scolded or fought with the girls around me. If not, I'm the one she dramatises whenever she sees a girl with me. Regardless if it's my friend, co-worker or team member in a project.'
"Ikaw beshikells! Sinech pa bers?" (It’s you, beshie! Who else?) his sister said and followed by another laugh.
"Luh! Huway meh?" (E? Why me?) The young lady looked funny. Her face was slightly tilted towards Mharc and her small forehead was furrowed.
"What language is that?" he asked his sibling. He said in a sarcastic tone. His face wrinkled slightly as she said nothing but laughed at him.
"Tsk. Why are you teaching her such nonsense things?" he asked, turning his judgmental gaze to the other girl inside the hall.
The folds on his forehead increased as his sister's laughter grew louder.
"Wrong!" Mharc said between crisp laughs.
Instead of paying attention to how she returned to normal language that he will understand—English, he was startled by the sound of the girl's laughter. When was the last time he heard his sister laugh like this?
"I was the one who taught her, Bro," added Mharc. Her laughter subsided a bit.
"Huh?" He was too excited by his sister's genuine laugh that he lost interest in what she was saying.
"I said, Sis Aki’s not the one who taught me. It’s the other way around. I taught her." His sister smiled at him.
That was Mharc's real smile. There is no trace of teasing or mockery.
'Aki? Could she be referring to Angel? How did Mharc understand the language of this girl?’
***
He found out that the stranger was indeed the one his sister called Aki. 'So, her name is Aki. It sounded like a man’s name.'
The question of how his sister and the stranger understood each other when only the previous night they could not understand each other lingered in his mind.
He decided to find out for himself how it happened. He couldn't ask Mharc because all she knew was that Aki was just a normal person. She did not know anything he had witnessed and experienced last night.
'Aki.' He kept on thinking of her name.
Right, he should train himself to call her by her name. Especially now that his sister was enjoying her company.
"Bro, Sis Aki will stay here with us. Right?"
He wanted to object, but he couldn't. He knew that there was a part of him that also liked his sister's idea.
'Maybe out of curiosity? Right. I'm just curious about what kind of person she is. That’s why I wanted to know her more,' he kept on convincing himself.