Dear CAT 3

The Couturier He looked like Tony Curtis to me. More good looking because of his pretty eyelash that was made thick by the Lash-enhancer. He took a good look at me and whispered to my cousin that he liked me. My cousin reminded him that I was only 15 and what was his business with a young girl when his taste was for men, young and good looking? He pinched my cousin who was at her age was old to be my aunt or even a grandmother. She was a second degree relative of my mom and was working part time as a seamstress with a fashion designer. Since we came to the City from our province, she would tag me along with her to get some work from the couturiers. Sometimes, I would chance to see moviestars and celebrities for fitting appointments. Sometimes, I would see socialites with their amigas and I would be amused by their stories. Really,they do that? It turned out that he got a lot of wedding dresses to make for her customers and he wanted somebody that he can bring along to Divisoria as his alalay. He thought that I looked smart and I can take care of the math problem of paying and receiving loose changes from the enterprising vendors. The wage was not bad. I can make use of it as allowance for my schooling which I continued in a public school in the city. I was from a private school so I lacked units to finish a curriculum designed for public high school students. For my regular subjects, I was accommodated in the late afternoon classes so I was free in the morning. I told my cousin to say yes and I would take care of my mom. Shopping in Divisoria was done as soon as Divisoria textile and accessories stores were open. I learned to haggle better than the couturier. I learned the Chinese terms for prices that I came to know what lowest price they can afford to give. I was able to decipher their codes. These codes are a word or words that represent numbers 0-9 like Black horse. 1 for B;2 for L; 3 for C. and so on. After the wedding projects, he asked me to stay on. He arranged for my schedules that I would have ample time for my homework and other school activities. The couturier could speak English and fluent Spanish. What I did not know was he was comprehension challenged. He It is just like driving a car at a speed of miles an hour. All he can write was his name. He belonged to a family of Spanish aristocrats who lost their money and properties from too much gambling. He did go to school but the parents did not care if he was really attending his classes.The couturier was resourceful enough to buy certificate of graduation in high school from the university belt. It looked genuine. The parents did not mind what the children did as long as they were receiving income from the earnings of the properties that they inherited from their grandparents. When it all dried up, the mestiza-looking younger generation solved the problem by marrying the money. The couturier attempted to marry too. He was introduced to a daughter of a wealthy family. Their wedding was set. Guests were invited. At the day of the wedding, the groom realized that he simply cannot marry a woman. This feeling that had been nagging him made him think that he was different from his brothers. It troubled him why he was attracted to the same gender as his. He left the altar before the wedding march was played. The bride wept because of humiliation. The family moved to a one- bedroom apartment. Their old big house was repossessed by the bank. He hung out with young people like him. Queer, they said. He got the opportunity to be a trainee of an old but very famous fashion designer. His natural talent was not left unignored. After a few years, he put up his own fashion boutique. He got a stable of seamstresses, beaders, beauticians and maids. He never was a cross dresser. Except for the make up, everything about him was oozing with gentleman’s charms; he always wore slacks, dress shirt with matching tie and well shined shoes. For a 15 year old girl like me, he found a friend, a confidante and a teacher. I taught him the love of books. He had the basics, it was only a matter of comprehension. He was enthusiastic to learn. His secretary would always do the business dealings herself that he had no way if he was being cheated or taken for a ride. She held him by the nose without knowing that he was keeping his literacy problem secret from her. His only niece who can advise him left to work as a seaman. As to how long can he kept his literacy challenged, he had no idea. He was a good speaker due to parroting and not because he could understand the word. He was a perfect fraud. When the secretary asked for a raise in the salary for the nth time that year, he fired her. He hired a more low profile secretary. But to him, I was his little executive assistant. He always brought me to the studio where he met with his celebrity clients. My adult co-workers did not like my closeness to my boss. Sipsip daw. Then the couturier –boss invited me to go with him on a weekend. It was a family get- together for a family member who was soon to get hitched. I met the man. He was a Medical stdent. My boss was paying for his studies. So there was where most of his earnings went. And now he was getting married. On our way home, the couturier was very quiet. He dropped me to our house. Unlike other nights when he would ask the driver to leave after I disappeared in our door, that night he got off from the car and hugged me. My shoulder got wet. I knew he was crying silently. For days, he was extremely quiet. He was attending to the clients solicituously but right after they were gone, he would retire to his private room and would not even speak to me. Days before my graduation in high school, he came exuberantly happy. He got a baby in his arms. She was beautiful. She was a baby of his maid who got pregnant by one of the boys in the apartment across the building. She left her to him before she went back to her family in the Visayas. She was given a French name. It changed his life. He forgot the sadness brought by the abandonment of his boyfriend. Before I left to enroll in College, he told me that he never fell in love again. Sexual relationship was just one night stand or just plain satisfaction of one’s lust. He told me that I would never understand it but he thanked me for being a friend and a kid sister he never had. I never saw him again but one of the seamstresses told me that he had already his own clotheslines in the stores.