Blood Calls by Mitos Suson
“Barbie?”
I thought I heard a ‘click’ from the other end.
I rang my cousin in California. I was conscious of the fact that it was 4:00 am. We are 15 hours ahead of her, here in the Philippines so I half expected her to wake up swearing. She isn’t the type to swear, but I wouldn’t have blamed her now if she did.
C’mon Barbie, answer the phone!
Still conflicted about what to say, the phone rang, and I breathed deep and then exhaled a prayer. She’s going to be so annoyed I’m waking her up, but I’ve got to tell her… my thoughts trailed off.
“Hello!” A sleepy voice answered. Hers. My voice caught in my throat, “It’s me… I’ve got some bad news.”
“What?” She sounded impatient. Tired.
“Rolly died.”
I’m so abrupt.
“What?” Now I caught her full attention. She was awake. Her voice torn in disbelief.
“What happened?”
“He had a motorbike accident! They told me a drunk driver swerved on his lane. Three people died today. I am so sorry.” I started crying, my nervousness fading.
“Are you sure?” she asked again.
“Yes, it’s confirmed.”
I heard her sobbing on the other end of the phone. Hearing her cry and feeling her pain, shredded my heart into a thousand pieces.
“I love you.” I couldn’t think of anything to say.
Soon the line was dead. No words could have been enough comfort.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I’m such an idiot. That’s not how you tell someone their brother is dead! I berated myself.
What would have sounded better? Even though I ran through dialogues in my head I couldn’t forgive myself for not softening the blow.
No words can bring him back no matter what I could have said.
I’m no stranger to loss. I am familiar with the roller coaster of emotions. I lost my brother, Rudy, a few short years ago. Rudy was a year older than me. When I heard that he died, I felt a punch directly to my gut. I still can’t fathom the pain of loss, especially a brother.
My own brother lingered a long time before he died. He was withering with Cancer. He opted to spend his remaining glory days to sex, drugs and ‘rock and roll’ that my siblings and I were already suspicious. Is he really sick? Ultimately, it did catch up to him.
Losing Rudy wasn’t sudden for me like losing Rolly was for Barbie. After Rudy was gone, for the longest time I couldn’t picture him in any way but sick. Finally, the tragedy of death gave way to sweet mercy of forgetting. Sometimes our ability to forget is a gift too.
*****
Rolly messaged me a week before that, “Hey Mita! How’s it going? I am meeting your brothers tonight for dinner. Wanna’ join us?”
“Hey Rolly, What’s up? We’d love to join you guys but FYI, we no longer live on the island. We moved to a different location after the super typhoon.”
“Oh, too bad.” He said.
“No worries. We’ll be over there next week. We can meet up as soon as we get there.”
“Well, we’ll be in Coney Island from Friday onwards.”
“Perfect! We’re visiting there next week too. I’m planning on visiting my sister, Candy. How long are you staying?”
“Until Tuesday!” He said.
“I’ll be there on Monday. See ya’.”
“Sounds good, see ya’!”
After the exchange, I thought about Rolly. His eyes seemed to smile. He was athletic with dark bronze skin. He had an inner glow, everybody says that about people who’ve passed away, but in Rolly’s case it was true. You could see it in his photos. And at long last, Rolly and Rita were going to live their dream. Rita is a pretty brunette of Italian descent. She has a heartwarming smile, and she radiated a positive energy. They’d been planning to start new lives for a couple of years. They were going to retire to the Philippines to be full-time missionaries. They wanted to preach to the indigenous tribes.
It took 5 years of planning. They sold most of their belongings in the US. They’d only just arrived in the Philippines and settled on the adjacent island of Ubec. Rolly was full of energy. He networked with local churches and congregations back in the states. Their dreams were about to become a reality.
Shortly after his message, my other cousin Hana, who lives in Coney Island, called me. She and her husband, Albert managed a farm, and they were missionaries too.
“Cuz’, I heard you were coming. Rolly will be coming as well. We should plan on a reunion.” She suggested.
“Sure, organize it. Edgar is at home with a chest cold. He can hold down the fort with the fur-babies, but my daughter Tara is visiting from Germany. She’s coming with me; she wants to meet her cousins.” I said.
“Cool! I’d love to meet Tara. Let’s plan for Monday night. Rolly is staying until Tuesday morning.” She said.
“I should be there Monday evening,” I confirmed.
“See you soon!”
I was getting excited to see my sister and my relatives. I hadn’t visited Coney Island in over a year. A family reunion was way overdue, family first. In the Philippines, life is all about family.
The following Wednesday, Tara and I flew to Ubec, which was an hour’s flight from my island. A couple of days later, we were visiting my niece, Carla. I wanted her and Tara to get together; they used to play together as kids. I was hoping they’d get reacquainted.
Unfortunately, Carla is a busy lawyer and always swamped with work, so she was stuck at the office. We’d waited at her house for quite a while, so we decided to head to my brother’s condo in the heart of the city, where we stayed temporarily.
Upon embarking on the taxi, I received a call from my sister-in law, Gina.
“Mita, I have bad news!” She said.
“What’s up?” I dread bad news.
“Rolly just died!” She said.
“What?” I wasn’t sure I heard her right. “What are you talking about? Do you mean our cousin, Rolly?”
“There was a motorbike accident. It was a head on Collision. He was dead on arrival.”
I inhaled a few heavy breaths and my eyes welled up.
“Are you sure?” I said. He can’t die! We were going to meet up in a few days.
Straight away, I thought of Tita Lucy, Rolly’s mother. As a sign of respect, we address our ‘aunts and uncles’ in the Philippines as Tita and Tito, respectively. I could picture her beautiful pixie face. She was lean, her body frail with age. She’s in her late 70’s. She still looks like a woman in her 50’s; she’s discovered the Fountain of Youth.
“Does Tita Lucy know?” I asked Gina.
“Well, they’re trying to reach Tito Nick, they think it’s better he breaks the news to his sister.”
My thoughts shifted to Barbie, Rolly’s sister. When I lived in California, I was helping her produce tech events. We communicate on a regular basis.
As if reading my thoughts, Gina said, “No, don’t tell her. Let Tito Nick tell his sister. She has a right to know first.”
“Alright, but...” I acquiesced, but when we hung up, I was still conflicted. I needed to tell Barbie. Waiting would seem like a betrayal. She’s the best person to tell her mother. My restless mind turned again to Rita. What must she be going through? She’s with our family, but she’s only just met them. She’s all alone in a foreign country!
I whispered a prayer “Lord, please keep her safe and strong.”
During the rest of the trip in the taxi, I sat in silence. We took the elevator to the 54th floor. As soon as we got there, I saw that I’d muted my phone and missed several calls from my brother, Alfonso and other relatives. I called him back.
“God, I still can’t believe it!”
“Me too!” he said. “He sent me a text this morning. Rolly wanted to stay at my beach house.” His voice trailed off.
“I know. We’d planned to meet with him on Monday too.”
“I still can’t believe it. Damn, life is so fragile.” Alfonso said.
“We met up at Manu’s place for dinner a couple of days ago. Before that I hadn’t seen him since 1972 when I was still in New York. It felt like seeing a long-lost brother. He was loaded with charisma… this is so sad!”
“Did you get to talk to Tito Nick?” I changed the subject. I was about to cry again.
“We tried but we could not reach him. Maybe you should let Barbie know.” Alfonso suggested.
“I’ve been considering it. How can I not? We communicate almost every day.”
“Yeah. Call Barbie. Inform her. Let her know that this side of the family will do everything in our power to help Rita.”
“Okay. Will do.”
By the time we’d hung up I’d amassed a dozen more family calls and text messages. I answered a couple of texts. I couldn’t handle another call so soon.
“Tita Mita? Rolly expired na.” Dawn, my niece messaged.
“I just heard. Is it confirmed?” I texted back, still wishing it was just April fools or fake news.
I kept asking the same question.
“Yes, Tita. It’s all over Facebook.”
The truth sank in slowly, not emotionally. My rambling thoughts were a ball of tangled confusion as we waited for the elevator to rise to the 54th floor.
Barbie! I could see my svelte cousin in my mind, a natural beauty. She’s so much like her brother. She was generous. She’d always been kind to me. She’d opened her home to me and even extended job opportunities to me and my family.
*****
Hana rang me up on the phone again, “Hey Cuz’!”
I responded, “How are you holding up?”
“Rita is with me right now. She didn’t want to go to the beach house. She’s closer to the hospital here from my place.” She answered.
“She’s resting now.”
We were all worried about Rita. Protecting people is instinctive. It was a relief that she was calm and finally able to rest.
“So, what happened?” I asked her. “Fill me in, please!”
“Well, I picked them up from the ferry. It was drizzling. They got drenched to the bone.” She said.
“I suggested we stop by the farm to have some coffee and snacks. Then they’d planned to head to the beach house when the rain let up. Three motorcycles got delivered to them at dusk. Then they headed to your brother’s beach house. A tour guide was with them on the first motorcycle. Rita drove the second motorcycle. Lily, rode with her. Lily was going to help them with their missionary work. They treated her like she was their daughter. Rolly followed on the third motorbike. They rode in a single file. He’s a safe driver; he was slow and careful.” She said.
“Did he have a helmet on?” I asked.
“Yes. Of course, he did! I didn’t hear about the accident until after 7pm.”
“How’d you hear?” I asked.
“The hospital called me. Rita tried calling me earlier right after the accident, but my phone was dead. When I finally found out, they told me to go straight to the provincial hospital. When I got there, Rita was beside him and was talking to him. He was gone but his body was still warm. There was still blood dripping from the bed.”
“Oh God!” I choked.
“He took his last breath with her.” She said.
She did her best to answer all my questions.
“I hate that people are already posting pictures of the accident on Facebook. I need to look for the person who is posting it and tell them to take it down. Don’t they care about anyone else? There are three families mourning tonight!”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Were there many people at the scene?”
“Yes. The accident drew a crowd. There were lots of people taking pictures and videos, and now it’s all over Facebook. A drunk driver and his passenger died too. It’s so rude and disrespectful to the families of those who’d died… you know?” Hana told me.
“I’ll investigate. I’ll see if I can find the person responsible and ask them to take it down.” Hana said.
“Thanks for being there for them, Cuz’,” I said.
*****
Later that day my sister-in-law Gina and I talked on the phone.
“I heard people were posting pictures of the accident?” I asked.
“Pictures and videos of the accident!” she said. “I even shared it with you.”
“I checked my phone for the attachments, but the video and some images were already removed,” I said.
“They must have taken it down. A lot of people were complaining. It was heartbreaking to hear Rita crying.” Gina said. “It pierced my soul! There was an article in the newspaper too. It said, ‘Three people, including a Filipino-American, died’.”
The article that Gina forwarded had allegations that the other driver was drunk.
*****
What about Rita?
I wondered how she was holding up. Before the accident, Tara and I had planned to go to Coney Island. We were going to see my sister Candy, but after we heard about the accident, we changed our minds.
“Sorry sis, I can’t come right now.” I told Candy.
“Why?” She asked.
“You heard Rolly passed away, right?” I asked.
She said, “Yes, it’s so crazy! I knew they were coming. I was waiting for them all day.” It was a relief that she already knew.
Candy’s beach house is adjacent to my brother Alfonso’s beach house, where Rita and Rolly were going to stay. It was convenient because it was only a few hundred meters away from his mother’s property, which he’d wanted to visit.
Candy recounted to me, “It was rainy and dark. I kept on looking out at the ocean for some reason. At 7pm, I wondered why aren’t they here yet? Then I got a call from Gina… and from our cousin Willy too.” Willy was the provincial doctor on the island.
Dr. Willy heads up the provincial hospital on Coney Island. He used to be a director of one of the modern hospitals in Dubai. When he retired, he came home to Coney Island to keep an eye on his aging parents. He was in Ubec when the incident happened. His staff informed him of the incident.
“Rita needs us. She’s all by herself in a foreign country,” I said.
“Yeah, I get that.” Candy said.
“Why don’t you come to the city? You can support Rita too.”
“You know, I’m sick, right? I can’t! And by the way, the construction worker who hit Rolly worked here right in front of my house. They’re building something. His coworkers didn’t think he was drunk. He only drank ‘Cobra’. It’s a non-alcoholic energy drink.”
“Really?” I asked. “But there was a police report. It said, the victim’s body reeked of alcohol.”
“According to people here, ‘something was crossing his path.’ That’s why he swerved to the other side… into an oncoming traffic and hit Rolly.”
“How do they know he was avoiding something?” I asked.
“They’d both died instantly, but Rolly was still alive when help arrived. By then he was unconscious.” I added.
“We can only stick to what we know. God, it’s all so tragic.”
“Yeah. That’s right.” she said.
In rural communities, it's not unusual to see roosters or stray dogs roaming the streets. In a beach community, where we lived before, stray dogs roamed the streets. It became a real danger to motorcycle riders that the expats organized programs and raised money to spay and neuter them.
*****
I got a call from Hana the next day. It was Saturday.
“Cuz, we’re bringing Rolly’s body to Ubec today. There’re tons of paperwork to fill out.” Hana said.
“Keep me posted?” I asked.
“Sure.”
We decided to wait for the viewing. Hana called again with an update.
“Cuz’, we are taking the boat at 5pm. Sorry it took so long. We should arrive in Davos by 8pm. We’ll be at the funeral parlor at 10pm.”
Over Facebook, friends and relatives had begun to organize cousin Rolly’s wake. Prayers were circulating and donations were flowing in.
My brother Alfonso called. “Mita, can you ask Barbie what the next step is? Do they want Rolly’s body cremated or buried? We will wait for her family’s instructions. Let Barbie know, not to worry, we are watching over Rita.”
“Okay, will do,” I said.
Hana updated us at 10pm. “Cuz’, we are going home now to Lapiz island, to Rolly and Rita’s residence. There’s no vacancy at the funeral parlor! His body is still at the morgue. Rita is so tired. She hasn’t slept since the day of the accident.”
“Okay, I’ll call you back in the morning.” I said.
*****
The next morning was Sunday. I called Hana back.
“Can we say goodbye to Rolly at the morgue?” I asked. I wanted to see him one last time.
“No one can visit the morgue. They’re keeping his body there until cremation.” Hana told me.
Hana was insulating Rita from most of the unnecessary drama, but I finally got to talk to her on the phone. I was so grateful. I wanted to tell her how much she’s loved. We both cried. Afterwards Rita sounded so calm and resolute. She’s such a marvel; so brave and strong under the worst of circumstances.
“What do you want to do with the body?” I asked.
“We’re having him cremated on Tuesday.” Rita said.
“Is this what you want?”
“No, but I’ll go with the majority.” She was talking about Rolly’s children in the US. “Barbie texted me that they wanted Rolly’s body to be cremated.”
Rita said that before his death, they’d had a conversation about it.
“When I die, throw my body in the ocean.” She recalled.
“That’s not legal here. Is that why they’re pushing for a cremation?” I asked.
“That’s his children’s wishes.” She said.
Rita said that she intended to come back with Rolly’s children one day. She wanted to spread his ashes in the ocean he loved.
Inundated with visiting friends and family, Rita was showing some cracks in her armor. I wanted to help if I could. At first, we had trouble getting to see her too. We didn’t want to crowd her. Everyone was pretty much on the same page about that. We wanted to step up and show her love and support, without overwhelming her any more than she was. It was difficult to get a moment with her.
“I can squeeze you guys in tomorrow.” Hana informed me.
“We will be there. Is around 10am good?” I asked.
“Yup. See you tomorrow.”
*****
When we got to Rita’s house in Lapiz City, my cousin Hana and her husband, Albert met us. Rita came down after a bit.
“How is your Jesus time?” Rita greeted us. It’s something she said a lot. It was her catchphrase, her version of ‘Praise the Lord!’. It was Rolly’s customary greeting too.
Rita was upbeat, but she looked tired too. She used the opportunity to witness and discuss their ministry, Rolly’s book, and a lot more. She tried to be cheerful and convince us that ‘she’s okay’. It occurred to me that she may have been trying to avoid one more difficult conversation. Yet another obligation to rehearse the particulars of her loss. Who could blame her for that?
We exchanged hugs, kisses, and prayers. Rita said, “I’m overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from the church and the family.”
“You are not alone. We are all here for you,” I said, holding her hand.
“Do you know, it’s so difficult for me to accept all these donations? Will you thank everyone for me?” she said.
“Sure!”
“Honestly, I don’t know how to go forward.” Rita’s eyes searched ours for answers.
When we had a quiet moment, Rita shared with me how she met Rolly and how they fell in love. It was good to see her smile.
“Yes, Tara and I were there at your wedding in California!” I reminded her. It felt like it was only yesterday. “It was a beautiful wedding.”
We talked about a lot of things, and the conversation turned to the accident.
“Rita, people in Coney Island are saying those two guys weren’t drunk.” My brother, Manu said. “There’s a ruckus going on in the island because of this incident.”
“What?” Rita asked. “I don’t know about that. I can’t handle that right now.”
She broke down and tears ruptured. I felt we’d been indelicate, and I already regretted the conversation.
“We understand and we will handle it. We need to know the story.” Manu said. “I am going to go to Coney Island tomorrow and I’ll try to clear it up.”
“Why do they want to do this?” She asked.
“Is it a scam for money? I don’t know! Because Rolly is an American? Because his family name is well known on the island?”
I reflected on all this later. In my heart, I thought the drama was from the families of those who died. Like us, they’re grieving too. They want to clear the names of their loved ones. It’s easy to get wrapped up in our own grief and not see the grief of others. Three people died that day! The villagers stuck to their story. I heard that they all donated a thousand pesos to help with the funeral of the other two riders.
“Can I call Lily and have her explain it? I can’t bear to rehash the details of the accident.” she said.
“Of course.”
So, Rita went up with Tara to her room while Lily descended the stairs.
Lily retold the story as soon as she sat with us in the living room.
“Rolly was behind us,” Lily said.
“He was driving slow.”
“I sat behind Rita, while she drove. Then I heard a loud scream.”
“I was trying to tell Rita to stop. ‘Something happened to Rolly’. So, we rode back to the accident.
“There was another motorbike behind Rolly. There were two criminology students who saw everything that happened.”
“Thanks, Lily. This tells us a lot already.” Manu said. “Do you have the names of the students?”
“Sorry, no.”
“The worst thing is that the ambulance came so late.” Lily said.
“When did the emergency medical people arrive?” Alfonso asked.
“I would say about over an hour. When they arrived, they were still biding their time, and couldn’t decide who to treat first.”
“We explained to them that Rolly was the only one still alive, he still had a pulse! They should take him immediately and not waste another minute. The other two people died instantly. I can’t sleep at night.” Lily said. “When I close my eyes, I can still hear Rolly’s scream, right before the accident.”
*****
The Cremation.
A few days later, Rolly was cremated. We were all set to go. Then we received a note that the chapel was too small to accommodate everyone that wanted to be there. The maximum capacity of the chapel was only twenty people. At the same time, we heard that Rita was planning to have memorial on the following Friday.
We needed to say our goodbyes. We decided to go see them in person and ask if they could manage to fit us in. And we weren’t the only ones!
When we got there, there were more than 40 people. Visitors were spilling out of the building. A lot of people wanted to say goodbye to Rolly. He’d touched a lot of lives and planted the seeds.
Rolly’s cremation made me think how sad it is that we take people for granted while they are alive. We only seem to appreciate them when they’re gone. I was able to say my farewell. It felt good seeing him one last time, even though I knew he was no longer in his body.
*****
The Memorial
I’m still amazed at Rita’s strength. The memorial was set for 3pm, she managed to smile at people even though I knew her heart was breaking. Pastors from churches on different islands flew in to join the mass. Rolly had already networked with so many people. The memorial was in a modern building in a Business Park. It was a large posh convention center. I felt like I was attending a tech event.
I thought of Barbie, she worked in the media and this venue reminded me of the events I produced with her. This time, it’s personal. The event was about family. Hana called me and asked if someone from our side of the family would like to speak. They wanted me to give a tribute to Rolly. I’m not the most natural public speaker in my clan, so I suggested the name of my eldest brother, Alfonso. If you give him a platform, Alonso can talk to anyone about anything. He’s a polished speaker.
But it wasn’t to be. The next thing I knew, my family had appointed me to speak.
My brother said, “You knew Rolly best. He’s our relative, but we hadn’t seen him in many years.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. It’d be my honor.” I said, but I was worried, what am I going to say?
When the time came, I was so nervous. Tara sensed my fears about public speaking and said, “Speak from your heart, Mom!” So, that’s what I decided to do.
When it was my turn to give a tribute to Rolly, my inhibitions melted. I decided to shoot from the hip. I didn’t write anything down. Instead, I thought of my aunt, Tita Lucy. I thought of my cousins, Barbie and her sisters who were half a world away. I wanted to represent them since they couldn’t be here, and hoped I was expressing the love I felt. I can’t recall much. It was a blur. I said something like, “I remember meeting Rolly several years ago in the US at his wedding. Then again at my Uncle Noel’s (Rolly’s father) memorial, a few years back. I never dreamed Rolly would be gone so soon. I can’t imagine I’d be here speaking at his memorial.” I was choking back tears the whole time. Every time another speaker would share, I’d cry some more.
After the memorial service, everyone went for dinner. There was a lot of food prepared, and it was good to catch up with family again. Tara grew up in Germany and didn’t know her cousins in the Philippines at all. It was an opportunity for me to introduce her to her cousins.
Rita’s friend from Wyoming, Dee had arrived to support her. Everyone was concerned about Rita traveling alone. It was a relief that Dee and her daughter flew back with Rita to the US. She needed a welcome and familiar face.
After dinner, Rita said her goodbyes to all of us. Everyone wanted to spend more time with her, but she needed some sleep. She’d need all her strength and energy for her flight on Tuesday. Those goodbyes were tearful too, I was uncertain if I’d ever get to see her again.
*****
Remembering Rolly
“He was all about family.” Alfonso said. “He even wanted to help resolve long standing family disputes about our family estate. He planned to celebrate Thanksgiving and invite all our cousins in Ubec as an olive branch.”
The dispute was about my grandmother’s estate. She owned more than a hundred hectares in Coney Island. But she died without a will, leaving a family of 8 to fight over chunks of land that haven’t yet divided. This is a common occurrence amongst Filipino families. Rolly was a man of faith, and we must accept that God granted Rolly’s desire to be with him.
Before flying to the Philippines, Rolly had a brush with death. He’d contracted Covid and was in an ICU for a week, but God had other plans. For some reason God wanted Rolly to come back home to the Philippines. It’s where his ancestors were born and where they were laid to rest.
Some tribes in the Philippines believe that “Blood calls!”
That means that if you were born on this land, your blood lures you back to where your ancestors were. If your family wanders to the ends of the earth, there is always that one relative, who will return to their homeland.
Your blood called you home Rolly.
All the way home, the song, ‘My Sweet Lord’ by the Beatles, played through my head and comforted me for days. It's a song that resonates with me.
“My sweet Lord. Oh, My Lord. I really want to see you. I really want to be with you. I really want to see you, Lord. And it won’t take long my Lord.”
God granted him, Rolly his heart’s desire. He came home. Hallelujah!
*****
Disclaimer: To protect the privacy of individuals, names of people and location have been changed.
