Watched 3

 

Round One:  Watched 

Round Two: Watched 2 

Round Three: Watched 3

"Stop snoring!"

The pen wanted to shout at the writer as he fell asleep seated in his sofa chair while watching television. 

A pen is just a pen. It can't do anything, but be used if not empty with ink. Feeling itself full, an idea clicked in the pen's head. Well, that lower part which is the pen's point as if it is the head, and in the head lies the brain. Something like that, as the pen thinks.

The writer was holding a pen and with blank papers with him. He was about to write something while watching a favorite television program, when out of nothing he fell asleep and snored. So the pen took advantage.

"Before anything else, I will watch what's the latest news this morning."

That was the old man, the taxi driver's mind speaking to him as soon as he arrived home. After the robbery he suffered, he was given a day's off again by the office manager.

He looked at his hand watch and realized it was half an hour past midday. He threw himself onto the sofa in the living room to rest and watch television.

He, too, like the writer, fell asleep minutes after sitting himself with his feet lifted to extend his legs and had them land on top the low raised table in front of the sofa. He was snoring.

"Oh, these men!"

It was the pen complaining, annoyed to hear both men snoring while it was writing their stories. But it continued writing.

After an hour, the house entrance door opened. The old man seemed to be tired that he did not realize someone entered. It was his daughter, back from school.

As she came in, she saw her dad asleep and snoring loud while the television news was going on.

"Oh, dad."

She locked the door and went to kiss her dad on his forehead and sit herself beside him after leaving her school bag on another chair.

As she lifted her father's arms to hang it on her shoulder, he woke up. He just opened his eyes. He saw his daughter beside him, hugging him with her arms around his beltline and his left arm placed on the back of her.

"Hello dad."

His daughter greeted him.

"Hello dear."

Her father responded as he hugged her too.

He went back sleeping while hugging his daughter, but the television screen suddenly showed a car tumbling round several times in a car accident, yet the news was saying no one was hurt. It was a miracle.

"Just like what happened to us. Remember father?"

His daughter released herself from his arms and gleefully started to recount a past event.

"Remember what happened with our first owned car? That yellow, four door car with the trunk included at the back?"

She reminded her father as he was straightening himself, putting down his feet from the living room set table.

"That is exactly what crosses my mind."

Her father nodded, twisting his closed lips to a side as if not really wanting to remember the event.

His daughter laughed out loud in memory of the accident.

"Remember when you just started to learn to drive a car?"

He was just half listening to the television news. He was seeing a man with a teenage daughter being interviewed, while his ears were paying more attention to his daughter's recount.

"You refused to have a formal study in driving, so mommy would not trust you to drive her car. But you managed to get the car keys to take me to school."

His daughter was talking with amusement, while he was with a serious face. He just nodded.

"You were going to arrive late at school and you would have an important exam, because the driver has not arrived yet to take you to school."

He looked at his daughter to give his part of the recount.

"You remember dad!"

His daughter's eyes rejoiced at his contribution. Then passed her look to the television then back to him.

"And the same thing happened."

She continued as he agreed. She grabbed her father's hand to console him as she could see sadness in his eyes.

"But Father, it was a miracle! Our car turned around as we were bumped by a fast approaching car from the other side of the road lane and they had a break problem. Fortunately there were not any cars too close behind us.

Her father was quiet. He did not say anything but just kept his eyes on the television screen. So she stopped, got serious and hugged her father.

"Oh father. It was over. It was past. It was not your fault. It was the other car's fault and they recognized it."

She assured her father then released him again from her arms after something came back to her mind again.

"And it was Mike Bilbao! One of my favorite basketball players at that time!"

And she started to laugh with heartfelt joy.

"It wasn't him."

Her father disagreed.

"It was him!"

She insisted.

"He looked like him."

Her father argued.

They both stopped for a minute. Then her father spoke again.

"Well, you seemed to have found something good from that experience."

The old man looked at his daughter, relieved of something, maybe guilt.

"Yes dad. It was a miracle. I wasn't afraid, remember?"

Her father reached to her and hugged her tightly.

"Yes, you were not. You amazed me. I asked you how you were and you just laughed saying what was that."

He kissed the hair of his daughter then released her. His daughter looked straight to his eyes.

"Dad, it was not your fault.Neither your fault if I would have died, because I was sure you would follow me. We both know, mom would kill you if you would have survived."

Then both of them laughed loud together agreeing to each other while their minds were imagining the mother and wife. It was a very hearty laugh they shared that the old man's tightened muscles out of tensions suddenly relaxed themselves.

"Exactly what she told me after I confessed to her."

Her father added and hugged his daughter again.

"God always watches us. He is the Eye in the Sky that truly looks over the earth."

She said to her father warmly.

The old man felt lucky enough, after all, with his daughter, the only woman in his life after his wife died years ago due to cancer. 

"I am glad you still remember that most important thing I have told you after that accident."

His daughter looked at him and smiled as she heard those words from him.

"You told me to write it on the rock of my head. It is still craved in there."

Since his daughter told him so, he gave a hand knock on her head and asked.

"Are you there? Knock! Knock!"

Both laughed hard that the writer suddenly woke up from his dreams, realizing people on his television screen were laughing.  He looked at his blank papers and they were not blank anymore. He checked his pen. No more ink. Again.

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Watched 2

 

 

Round One: Watched

Round Two: Watched 2

The alarm rang striking one o'clock in the early morning. She fell asleep on top of her books with a rosary in hand under the light of the lamp in her study table.

In her pyjamas, the eighteen year old girl strengthened her back against the chair's backrest. She realized she was still holding her rosary. She was praying.

"Oh Lord. I can't go on studying anymore. I guess I did enough for tomorrow's exam."

Then she put a check mark on her list to study, the last one with a time range of ten to eleven thirty in the evening.

She also put a check mark to the next in her list that says Pray Rosary at eleven thirty. She remembered herself finishing the rosary ten minutes before midnight.

Telling herself to give a ten minutes break before the next in her list which was General Review at twelve to one o'clock in the morning, but she wasn't able to wake up after ten minutes. Instead, she slept till one o'clock, the time she wanted to call her review done and time to bed. Her first class later that day shall be at eleven in the morning.

The writer stopped writing for a while. Looking at his pen, he gave it a questionable look. It was his curiosity as to who the girl he was writing about with his pen. But the pen continued writing.

At eighth, her alarm clock rang again. She opened her eyes and hesitantly got up from bed after five minutes.

Leaving her room after getting ready for school, she found her father having his coffee by the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Dad!"

Her father, reading the newspaper, lifted his eyes, looked at her through his eyeglasses to recognize the greeting. The breakfast was ready on the table as prepared by his father. Scrambled eggs, bread and coffee with milk plus a glass of orange juice were their early morning food.

She noticed happiness from her father's face. Not the usual worried eyebrows she had seen several days before. So she planted her curiosity question.

"Did I miss something?"

She asked, smiling at her father. 

The grey haired old man just gave her a quick look without any surprise in his face. He smiled, showing his teeth alternately missing one after another. Then put down the newspaper on top of the empty space of the table.

"I have the money for your tuition fee for the rest of this year."

Her eyes became wide opened with amazement and her mouth half opened. Then gleefully she stood up to hug her father.

"Really?"

Her father and herself were the only family she has. As an only child, her father raised her up alone after her mother died giving birth to her. He dedicated his life to her. She had been proud, grateful and thankful for her father . He has been the reason and inspiration of all her efforts to study well, receive school honors and recognitions. Her father was just an ordinary taxi driver. But an incredible man!

"Sit down. Sit down."

She was hugging him, actually his back head with her arms encircled in his neck, as she hugged him from the back of his chair.

She sat down with big eyes ready to listen to his story again. How she loved to hear his stories after each night's work. Her father has been an ear to many passengers' life stories. Some were funny, others sad, and still others horrible, even scary. Those were the reasons she made it a habit to pray for her father's safety every night and day, whatever his given schedule to work would be. She never missed asking God to protect him. And God had never failed.

"I'll tell you what happened last night."

He told her about the robbery he suffered and the dollars he found on his taxi's car floor. He described the father and son that had stolen his earned money. How he felt sorry about the son. Most of all, how much money in dollars he found on the car's floor after they left because of a police car siren they heard.

Her face looked sad and worried at first, then relieved upon understanding the end of the story. She asked him a question.

"What time did it happen?"

Her father tried to remember.

"Around midnight."

The coincidence did not miss her calculations. 

"I prayed for you before that!"

The old man was not surprised. She noticed it. It was him who made it a point for her daughter to learn and worship God.

"I know that you always pray. One more time it was heard."

After saying those words, her father touched her hand lovingly and showed her the watch she had given him as a gift.

"You saved it!"

Both of them laughed as they said those words at the same time.

The writer stopped writing for a while and smiled at his pen in his hand.

"Aren't they a good team?"

Instead of any possible answer he could think of from the pen, his hand went back writing.

After seeing the time from her father's watch, she stood up to go. Kissed him goodbye on his cheek. But remembered something from her cell phone. A picture she wanted to show to her father.

"Before I forget Dad, here is the photo of the guy I have mentioned days ago, who would like to come to visit me."

Her father put back his eyeglasses to look at the suitor of his daughter. He did it without any obvious interest at all. Just curiosity. But he seemed to have recognized the person in the photo that he asked her daughter to show it again to him.

"It was him!"

Her father shouted, unconsciously expressing loud his thoughts, but it was too late to retrieve.

"Who him?"

The daughter asked her father. Instead she received a question.

"Is he your boyfriend already?"

The question came like an accusation to her. She responded irritated.

"No!"

She confronted her father repeating her question.

"Who are you talking about? Is this guy your robber last night?"

The old man could not say anything. He felt himself tongue tied. His daughter was talking about this guy, a boy for him, a few days ago with excitement in her eyes. He remembered  her commenting on the good manners, kindness and interest of her daughter with this boy on her cell phone. He would not like to disappoint her. What if he was just being paranoid? It was dark. He took a deep breath and responded to her daughter's question.

"No."

His daughter felt relief. Obviously.

"We talk later okay? I have an exam today. I got to go."

The old man realized he made the right decision to give benefit to his doubt. His daughter would have an exam and he would not want her to get worried.

"Go in peace, my dear baby."

Her daughter smiled at those loving words. She felt happy so she kissed her father's cheek again with a sounding kiss and a strong hug. Then left.

The grey haired man, the taxi driver himself, once again prayed to his heart's desire.

"Oh my Lord, may it not be that young boy. But Thy will be done and I know you will be there to sort this out for us."

Then he shrugged his shoulders and got himself back to reading his newspaper.

The writer too rested down his pen and in exchange, picked up his own newspaper as he finished the continued series of  Watch. 

 

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Watched

                              

It's been a long, hot day, and late in the evening.

The taxi driver, an old gray haired man in his 60's has been on the street trying his best to earn money for his employer's day fee, boundary they call it, for the taxi rent.  The rest shall be his personal earnings.

He parked the car on a street side. Looking around first if it would be safe for him to park on such a corner of the street.  It's already eleven thirty in the evening.  He would not work anymore.  He has to return the car before midnight.

There wasn't anybody around. The night was so quiet and the street empty. If ever someone would come walking, he surely would notice.

He started to count his money.  Two hundred, three hundred, he counted till he reached five hundred of the local money.  He said to himself, "Fine. I have the money for the taxi's rent."  Then, he started to count the remaining money.  But before that, he closed his eyes to pray.

"May the Lord's will be mine to have the money sufficient enough for my daughter's college tuition fee."

Suddenly, his prayer was cut.

"Do not shout. Do not be stupid.  Just do what I tell you."

He heard a commanding, scary voice whisper to his right ear. He opened his eyes and felt a gun pointed on the right side of his forehead.  Two thieves had entered his car without his knowledge.

"Oh, my God! I have forgotten to lock the doors! Lord, help me!"

The man at the back added more warnings.

"It is better for you old man to listen to my father's will.  Otherwise, you can be dead."

It was a younger man's voice he heard.  He looked at the little mirror of his car and saw him.

"He is just a baby!"

The taxi driver heard himself saying those and felt sorrow in his heart.

"How old are you, young man?"

He dared to ask.

The man beside him frowned and pushed the gun more unto him.  He's a man around his fifties.  A deceiving, decent looking man, well-dressed in a polo shirt and fairly brown skin.  He seemed to be a tall man complemented by his good body structure.

"They don't look like thieves at all! But why this and with the gun?"

Question that he could not dare to ask.

"It is none of your business, old man."

It was the response to his inquiry for the younger man's age.

"Just give me that money you are counting and we will leave you alone."

He looked at his money and without delay, tears started to fall from his eyes.

"I did not stop working the whole day to earn my daughter's tuition fee."

The man seemed to be moved. The gun was distanced a little away from him.  While the son at the back just bowed his head. Sadness in his face.

"Well, old man, we all work hard on what we can."

He grabbed the money away. But then saw the driver's blue Casio watch.  The old man followed his look to his watch and noted that it was already quarter to midnight.

The man tried to grab the watch from his arm, but he refused and pleaded.

"No! Please don't! This is my daughter's gift for my birthday out of her one year's savings. Please don't! Have mercy!"

The young man at the back told his father not to do so. Obviously touched by the old man's words.

"Leave it father!"

The young thief was about to say more when they suddenly heard a police siren somewhere.

The two men panicked and went out running to their car behind the taxi.

"So they have parked behind me and I did not realize it!"

He looked at the back through his taxi's side mirror and saw them gone.  He locked his car's doors and with crossed arms on the wheels he cried hard.

It took him some minutes before he lifted his face and lay his head against his chair's backrest.  His mind was blank.  His heart felt pain.  His body tired. Then he looked at his watch. It gave him a smile. He inhaled deeply and exhaled the pain from inside.

"Thanks God. I am saved and my watch, my baby's watch."

He thought it better to start the car and to leave.

After twenty minutes, he arrived at the Taxi Station's Office.  He entered the main gate of the parking station, turned to his designated lot.

"Now, how would I convince the Manager that I am telling the truth after having this second robbery I suffered just this week."

He closed his eyes to think.  He was so tired he fell asleep easily.

"Hey Thomas! Wake up!"

The door on the passenger seat side was being knocked by a coworker who just parked his taxi beside his car.

He woke up on a jerk and opened the door.  The man did not enter but just bent down to talk to him.

"What happened? So sleepy? Working hard again?"

He gave him a very sad face.

"I was robbed again."

The man was shocked and cursed.

"Really? What kinds of bastards we have these days!"

He looked at the old man with pity on his face.

"Bad luck for me. It is the second one in the week."

"It can happen to anyone, what do you think?"

The man saw something on the passenger's side floor and told him about it before closing the door.

"Let us talk inside the office. Don't forget to pick up your wallet from the floor."

The man left and went straight to the office.

The taxi driver was puzzled.

"What wallet?"

He looked at the floor and saw a wallet.

"This isn't mine."

He opened his little car's drawer in front of the passenger seat where he kept his driver's license and empty wallet left there after he took the money to count them.

He looked down and picked up the wallet from the floor. It was the man's leather wallet. It should be.

It was a good one. There were not  any identification cards, nothing but three hundred USA dollars!

His eyes went round like the moon!

"Ha! Ha! Ha!"

He was so glad he could not decide if he would rather jump with joy or start shouting he found a wallet with dollars!

"This must really be the thieves' wallet that fell without realizing it. I wonder where these come from, but this money is even more than I can earn for months!"

He closed his eyes, this time with a big smile and a happy heart.

"Thank you God! Thank you! Forgive but I will, of course, keep these for me. I am so grateful I don't know what to say more, but thank you!"

The writer parked his pen as well, feeling happy for his ending. 

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Watched 2

@thepen20/bbayonito20