Bro's Goofy Classmates

Chatting continues...

"We lost a child. She was Kate's older sister, probably around your age if she were still alive," Kate's mom chimed in, swatting flies away with a fly swatter. She joined our chat as the hustle and bustle of customers died down.

"Kate and her sister were like two peas in a pod..." she started, tears welling up. "Kingkong, you take over the story," she said, as she returned to the stall outside.

"It's true! Kate looks just like her sister Katrina. Their faces are practically stamped out of the same mold. You see, my wife has Spanish blood, so you can see her mom's nose and Kate's nose—like Dolphy's. My wife comes from a wealthy family, but they disowned her when she got pregnant by me. Not a single penny of help from them. I was just a janitor at the high school where her mom studied. I was 26, she was 13... You see, Kate's mom had this habit of peeing behind the gym! And that's where I took my breaks in a makeshift shack I built. Well, one day, I saw her peeing, legs wide open... I saw her—you know, her privates, so fair and smooth! No hair. Beautiful face. From then on, I made it a point to catch glimpses of her."

"Dad!" Kate exclaimed, visibly embarrassed but listening intently. We were eating while Kate's dad told his story. We were both stunned and amused whenever he blurted out something vulgar. The story jumped from Kate's mom to Katrina and back again... But towards the end, it was mostly about him and his wife. Kate and I felt awkward listening to his crass language.

"I used to fantasize about her every time I saw her pee!" Kate's dad paused his storytelling. We had finished eating too. He asked Kate to clear the table, but she just soaked the dishes in soapy water and returned to her seat.

"Tete, buy me some cigarettes," he said, handing Kate a hundred pesos from his wallet. Kate was annoyed because she wanted to hear more about her parents' story.

"I sent Kate away because I know she likes these kinds of stories. She's still my daughter, so she can't always get what she wants. My wife and daughters are of Spanish descent. They're really horny," he whispered with a sly grin.

"I caught her doing something naughty once. Right after peeing, before pulling up her panties, she'd sneak a touch. Damn, I really tried to find a way to catch her," Kate's dad continued. He had sent Kate away just to tell this part of the story.

"One day, same thing, she came by, and I waited. I told myself, if she does it again, I'd surprise her. And there she was... 'HEY! GOTCHA!' I yelled, jumping out of my hiding spot. 'What are you doing there! If you're going to do something nasty, don't do it there; you might get caught and end up in the guidance office!' She was shocked, didn't even pull up her panties. I managed to calm her down, took her inside my shack, holding her hand. She didn't resist, just followed me inside. I talked to her seriously, asked why she was doing it; she said it was itchy and painful. From then on, I let her stay inside. She was innocent, didn't know what she was doing. Kate's mom was a bastard child of her father. Her mother was a maid who got pregnant by her employer. Taba would tell me stories about her dad having affairs with many women. Even when she’d catch her dad having s*x in their room, he’d be pleased if someone watched. That's why, according to Taba, she got interested in s*x. That's what she was doing behind the gym. I asked if her dad ever touched her; she said no. But she saw her dad's Spanish snake-like p***s! Long as heck. Not a p***s, really—a tarugo! He'd walk around the house naked! Taba saw it all."

Kate returned, "Why'd you take so long?" "I bought an egg pie," she said. "Okay, keep the change."

"I took Taba to Pampanga. Never brought her back! I kept her as my wife until she got pregnant with our firstborn, Katrina," Kate's dad concluded.

"Is that it? Done?" Kate grumbled.

"Go upstairs, you two. Take a rest," Kate's dad said to us. He stood up to drive his jeepney.

Kate's mom, who had overheard the end of the conversation, said, "Go on, Tete, go upstairs. Take a siesta. Nothing much to do here. I'll cook the leftovers for our afternoon sale."