Joecab

I saw Joyce from a distance yesterday afternoon. He was at the poultry supply, perhaps buying goods for his game fowls.

Joyce is a friend from my childhood in rural Balete. We grew up together, went to the same school, and were tutored by the same teachers from Grade 1 to 6 at Balete Elementary School. We were playmates, though not exactly the best of friends. We had our share of differences, and when diplomacy failed, we let our fists settle the matter.

 Old Baleten-ons called him Joecab—a monicker he earned for being the grandson of Old Lo Bador, the original “bagoe.” As you already know, Balete is notorious for giving a second baptism to its favored sons and daughters, christening them with monickers apt to capture certain characteristics in their persons. Thus, Joyce became Joecab, a combination of his first name and his grandfather’s “patented” nickname—not to mention that he was always sporting shaven head we used to enjoy rubbing with a chuck of goso.

 I was on my way home yesterday when I saw him standing before the poultry supply along T.F. Calizo Ave. He acknowledged my passing with a nod and a smile. Something in that smile somehow reminded me of a particular event in our lives—not when we were toddlers playing bricks and goso at the plaza, but when we were already grappling with the puzzle of puberty.

 You see, despite the feminine sound of his name, Joecab was a raging bull. He was already brimming with testosterone in his youth. On one occasion, he quipped, addressing the entire barkada:

 “Tao kon sin-o katon kara iya ro mauna makapangasawa?”

 But that’s not what I recalled yesterday upon seeing him. What I remembered was that particular instance in Mapait, one summer night…

 “This song,” Joecab proclaimed in his loud baritone voice, breaking the silence of the night, “is lovingly and heartily dedicated to Miss—Sin-o ngani to, pre?”

Thus began our harana, or serenade, to a young and beauteous vacasionista.

 As you also know, Joecab had a good singing voice and was a self-taught acoustic player. He was one of those few animators in our group of friends who could turn a simple gathering into festive carousing. Just let him strum his guitar to the tune of Tantaloyloyloy.

 Those were the days!

That’s Joecab.

And he was the first among us to get hooked.