Photo by Clarissa Budiman on Unsplash
Lolo, youngish at 60, is having fun. He is on his ninth animal, and the stack is holding steady. Instead of the giraffe as the base, with its long neck providing ample surface to securely anchor whatever he’d put on it, he had decided, on a whim, to put the cow on its side, and the giraffe’s four legs on what would be the hindquarter. It was a bit uneven, but the giraffe’s hooves somehow held.
Then, the tiger straddling the giraffe’s neck, the gorilla’s arms and legs on the tiger’s shoulder, the monkey’s ass on the gorilla’s back, the pig with its stubby feet snug around the monkey’s head, the hippo – the hippo! – its heavy weight equally distributed, therefore almost perfectly balanced on the shorter pig, the mighty lion, languid, on the hippo, now the meerkat, almost a gimme on the lion’s mane. “These German toys, must be the resins – they’re so ..ahmm..solid!”
Lolo looks around, and sees he has run out of toys. The rest are with Pepe – three race cars, a yellow dump truck, a silver police SUV, & what remains of the plastic menagerie. Pepe can’t get enough of his cars & trucks, can’t get enough of racing & banging them against each other. He has mainly either of two game faces - serious, silent, intent, lips pursed, or, as if a dam has broken, words gush forth, arms flail, eyes turn impish.
Pepe is Lolo and Lola’s grandson from their only daughter Jo. He is everything they’ve been longing for, to fill the spaces vacated by retirement and the pandemic. If he isn’t staying over for the weekend, Pepe is the main feature of the daily family video chats, impressing everyone with his multi-syllable words (ah-lee-gay-tuhr), showing off his new, pre-loved toy and freshly-unwrapped picture book (Jo’s a strong believer in limiting carbon emissions, but drew the line at used books), or just being adorable in his teddy bear onesies.
“Oh look at what Lolo is doing!,” Jo exclaims. Pepe glances from a few feet away, his mind slowly registering what his eyes beheld. He gets up, walks with purpose towards the abomination, and swings his right hand at the hapless meerkat, which catches the head of the lion, and brings the whole thing crashing down. The first thought that comes into Lolo’s mind is triumphant, “This is what 2-yr old boys do!” – he hugs Pepe tightly.
“Oh but I had them up more than a foot already, I can still go higher.” Lolo starts to stack the animals up again, in a different order for excitement. Progress is not as smooth as the first one, the lean ones totter and slip, and so when Pepe returns to knock it down again, it hasn’t gotten to half of what it was before.
9 am, time for Pepe’s morning bath. Then a nap until 11-11:30 am, lunch, play time again, afternoon nap from 2-4 pm. Lately, they’ve added the unkempt park in Lolo’s village to the weekend routine, you can never have enough natural ventilation during Covid, and Pepe can run all he wants.
At the park, there is just one other family. The father tries to fly a kite, the older sister has their schnauzer on a leash, the younger brother holds his mother’s hand as they watch and wait.
A rumbling sound. Because the airport is nearby, the plane is much larger than whatever Pepe sees from his 20th floor condo. He recognizes the primary colors on the airline’s logo near the tail. He hears the faint engine whine as the plane continues to climb.
For several seconds, he is silent, his right hand pointing upwards. Then, “Ey-pleyn Up!” “Ey-pleyn Up, Ey-pleyn Up in da Skay!”
The father is finally able to keep the kite steady at around 40 feet. It has a normal 4-sided design, with a different pastel color on each of its eight panels, and a bright red tail. Ethereal against the late afternoon February sky, it seems to want to stay up forever. This time, out of awe maybe, or a sensory swing from the loud jet, words do not come from Pepe. But Lolo can see him smile just so, and of course, he is pointing up.
That night, Lolo has his happy dream of flying - jogging, then running, then a leap at the edge of a cliff. He breaks free from everything, from the old woman chasing him, from an unfulfilled life, from boredom. Like those wingsuit daredevils, but no need for a chute to pull at the end.
Sunday 10 am is online mass at the Cathedral. Lolo, Lola and Jo are attending in the family room, while Pepe naps.
Pepe wakes as the mass is ending, in an okay mood. He sits on his mother’s lap, and stares at the presiding priest saying the Oratio Imperata. He looks around the family room, and sees his toys in the corner.
Lolo has an idea. He sits at the dining table, and makes as if he is about to eat lunch. Pepe is soon tugging at his sleeve, imploring him to play. Lolo grins and gets up.
“Pepe,” as the boy starts on his blue BMW racer, “can you help Lolo?” He repeats the question, with a Please.
The giraffe is already upright, ready to bear the weight of this new assault on the heights. Jo chimes in – “Yes, Pepe, can you help Lolo”?
Pepe doesn’t nod, but he lets go of his car. “Can you give me the lion?,” Lolo asks. Pepe picks the toy up to give to Lolo.
“Pepe, can you put the tiger on the lion, on the lion?,” Lolo gently motioning as he speaks.
A small win. Yet, the same exhilaration Lolo had yesterday morning, when he placed the meerkat, like a crown, on the lion’s head. A rush he never felt with the paper airplanes andkites from childhood, that teased flight but always, inevitably, disappointed.
Ray Montinola, 61 yrs old, is from Manila, Philippines. He retired from full time employment last February 2021. Since then he has been able to devote more time to writing, and has completed 7 short stories, the first of which is "Up, Up", the flash fiction story submitted to Drunk Monkeys last May 2021.