Desafinado: Slightly Out of Tune - 2. Island In The Sun

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CHAPTER 2: ISLAND IN THE SUN

"Hi guys! It’s Candy’s vlogs. We’re back in Palawan to bring you an exclusive tour not known by many. The tea is, they cater this trip to celebrities and the wealthy. We’re here at Limangpulo island as part of the H.M.S. Tour’s exclusive ten-day island adventure trip. Yaass! So, let me tell you what we’ve been up to guys. We were first picked up by a private plane and were jetted to our own yacht for five days... Jeff. Jeff? JEFFREY! You’ve got to capture the light babe. Capture my angle for fuck’s sake," shouted the vlogger.

Brown-eyed, artificially blonde, with a fake tan and fake books, she was in her bikini, posing in the shallow part of the water while her boyfriend held onto the camcorder.

"Le réseau électrique peut-il être étendu à cette partie de l'île?" (Can the power grid be extended to this part of the island?) I asked my French contractor. I was so busy with my calls that I didn’t notice them recording on the side of the beach until the girl with the split ends called for my attention. I said, "Attendez un instant, je vous rappelle," (Wait a moment, I'll call you back) and ended my call.

"You’re that white guy working here, right?"

"That would be me."

She gazed up and asked, "Can you like, give us some drinks coz we need them for a video?" Do you have fresh coconut juice with those mini umbrellas?"

A simple request. "Sure. I’ll have them bring you one right now."

"Er," she said, shirking her glance to the side. "I don’t want to offend anyone, but I don’t trust them. Could you…"

For a split second, my left eye twitched. "What do you mean, you don’t trust them? Ma’am?"

"You know, like… what if they put something in the drink?"

"You think they’re going to spike your drink?"

She slapped my arm, pinched my pecs, and giggled. "Oh my god. No! Not like that." I took a glimpse at the boyfriend, who was too busy being a NAT Geo explorer diving into knee-length waters to capture some shots of fish. I’m not one to accuse people of doing relatively questionable things, but I think she was flirting with me. She was still giggling when she said, "I’m talking about spit… like, you know—what if they spit on my drink? Like this." And then she spat on the ground. I hopped away from the splash zone.

"You have nothing to worry. The staff around here won’t try to kill you."

Holding onto my arm, she then squeezed my biceps. "I don’t mean it like that. Like, I’m just worried about the quality. Like what if they serve me something that’s not fresh? You know. Like, what if it’s not fresh coconut juice?"

"You mean they might serve you an un-fresh coconut juice? Ma’am, I don’t think they’d serve you rotting water."

"Yeah. But like, what if…you never know—"

Then Kulas appeared from behind. "—here you go, miss," he said. He must have heard about it and ordered it from the bar. "Madame, Katrina here will be your personal assistant starting now." The blonde woman with Middle Eastern features said, "Good morning, ma’am, I’m Katrina. I’ll be your personal assistant for the duration of your trip."

The woman nodded as she listened to her and noticed something worthy of her time. "Oh my god! Look at this little umbrella." She returned to the shallow waters and pulled her boyfriend, snorkelling in his knee-deep ocean adventure. "Jeffrey! Take a fucking shot of this now!"

"Hay nako. Baliw tong babaeng toh," (Oh my. This woman’s crazy,) I muttered.

"Totoy," addressed Kulas with a name he’s called me since I was a child, "you requested por a spare mattress for the kubo?"

I turned to him and said, "Yeah."

"Mariel said it’s por a client? Did we get the headcount right?"

I hesitated to answer as I scratched my beard. Lying to Kulas was never a habit of mine. But my hand was being forced since… he’d kill me if he found out I paid for Albert’s VIP stay here on a whim.

"Yep. We counted right. The mattress is for a friend."

"A prend?"

Shit. I had to think fast. "Yeah, a friend, er, who’s also getting the mattress as our lucky raffle winner."

"We hab a rapol winner? Since when?"

"Er—since today."

"You’re bored again, aren’t you?" he said testily, calling out my bluff as he slapped my arm.

"Ouchies," I said to him while rubbing the reddened spot. "You shouldn’t be hitting me in public. I’m too old for this."

He put both arms on his hips. "Really? You’re too old por this when you’re acting like a big baby? Hey Totoy, I’ve been taking care op you since you were a child. Since your parents were still alibe, I was der. You were still in your diapers when you were sucking the booger in your nose like this oh." He began snorting like a pig. "Like dat. You were sucking and eating your booger when you were a baby. It’s disgusting." He raised his arm, and I was preparing to duck and shield the spot he was angling to hit. "So don’t tell me not to smack you if you’b been a bad boy." He hit my arm again. Damn it.

I had to pretend it was painful so he’d leave me alone. "Ouch. That really hurts you know."

"Huwaw. You have bery big muscles, and you’re crying that it hurts. So your muscles are peeled with air?" He then turned serious for a moment. "Tell me, is this an experiment op yours?" I nodded as an assurance of zero accountability and a hundred percent deniability. "Ah, I get it now." He crossed his arms and turned his head to the side. "You have a guest in the kubo because you wanted to know ip the bahay kubos are libable so it would be suitable por cheaper mainstay clients who wanted cheaper options?"

I didn’t even think of that. "Er—yeah? It’s a, er, work in progress."

"Ah ok. I was surprised when Mariel told me that you paid por a client. I told her, why would Totoy pay por a guest unless he has a motib? So this is the motib. It makes sense."

Motive?

What’s my real motive?

I was curious to find out who this Daniel person is for Albert. Maybe he’s here to forget? Maybe they were supposed to go on this trip before they broke up. We’ve had passengers before who became single before their trip and would lock themselves up and order room service for days without going out. Some were jilted at the altar. Some broke up before and after their trip. Others were months ahead, even before their vacation had started. Hang on. I think I've got it. That’s why Albert’s trip was booked two years ago. What if he was left at the altar and is currently on their honeymoon? That’s a working theory. Insane right? But it's possible.

"Can you bring in some people to carry a mattress to the kubo? Also, could you please bring the doctor?" I said, slanting over to the shade of a palm tree. The sun was getting more intense. Being the paranoid person I am, I had to take cover.

"Doctor?"

"Yes."

"Is da guest sick?"

"He fainted earlier and is wrought with fever. I think it’s from the heat."

"Where did he come prom...antarteka? What a weak countenance dis person has. He got exposed to da sun and now he’s sick?" said Kulas. It’s expected he’d say that since the man never got sick, ever. He’s been carrying those whale teeth on his neck, thinking they have mystical powers for ailments or maladies. "Ok. I’ll call the doctor. San na naman kaya nagpunta yung kumag na yon?" (Where did that idiot head off to again?)

Walking to the kubo was intense. Thank God I reapplied some sunblock earlier. I understood why Albert had passed out from the heat. The sun wasn’t kind today. It was more aggressive and UV-cancerous than usual. And when I checked the weather app on my phone, peak temperatures would reach up to 40 degrees Celsius. There were hotter climates out there. But I guess the humidity is what kills you. Constant sweat plus the murderous sun is a recipe for heat stroke, which our friend was a victim of. That was until I got to the kubo, and Albert was shivering in bed. He was getting worse.

I took off my hat and leaped beside him. I was cradling his face, and I noticed his lips turning purple—as were his fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t believe we’d have a guest die on the island.

My first instinct was to run for the doctor. But… I can’t leave him. He might be dead when I come back. So I took off his sleeveless shirt and slid him out of his shorts into his underwear. For reasons unknown, I had the strength to drag a 5’7 grown man out of a nipa hut. I was fit like a fiddle for a man in his 30s. But to have the strength, motivation, and dedication to not let a person die was nothing short of a miracle. My adrenaline was pumping, and the need to save him was the only thing on my mind.

Holding him by the arm, I struggled to drag him out of the kubo without ripping out his flesh. The stones on the ground were sharp. The rocks were jagged and splintered. One wrong move, and he could have perforations on his legs and back. Every partial twist and shift of his body as my hands were draped around his shoulders, moving with caution and reserve, was in a way symbolic of how we’d be able to reach the ridge without falling to our deaths. The kubo was placed atop a hilly side of the island. With a ridge on the farther side and a steep sandy downslope accessible by foot.

Once we reached the edge, I lifted him over my shoulders and jumped on the steep, sandy dune. We were careening downhill, with my foot stepping on mush. The loose sand didn’t help the trajectory and speed of my walking pace, so my foot got tangled and we rolled down on the hard-packed floor. I twisted my shoulder as I fell down, and it cushioned Albert’s fall. Holding onto my arm where it needed to be popped and readjusted, I knelt on the ground and carried him with all my might as I heard the waves breaking. The fast swash carried all kinds of flotsam, including seaweed. Faster and faster, my feet dragged us both to the swash. I was jumping and running to the water, tricking my mind into thinking I wasn’t in pain and hoping I wasn’t doing this in vain. I stared at his face, and it got bluer. I splashed the water harder. I brought Albert to the part of the ocean where his body could be cooled off.

Words, air, and exasperation came out when I said, "Please don’t die on me," as I sank his body into the ocean, praying it would be healed.

Then, figures above the ridge appeared: the doctor, Kulas, and some workers. I waved my working hand and shouted, "Here!"

They rallied down the sloped dunes and reached us in time.