Old school memories: A walk in the dark

"Bols" a dashing Chinoy with a mustache - one of those close buddies during my wacky high school and college days approached me one afternoon and asked if I could accompany him to the city - Cagayan de Oro. This pal was a rich man's kid who lived at the crossroads from MVC and we used to hang out at his parents' place for the stuff that is prohibited in SDA schools. He said that he needed to deposit some money at the bank in the big city. Valencia was just a small town then and didn't have a commercial bank yet.

While on the bus the next day Bols showed me the thick wad of bills in his pocket - 20,000 pesos. In those days you could buy a car with that money and I thought that traveling with such a large amount of cash was just crazy. We got to the Philippine National Bank in the city and after the transaction we decided to order a few beers at a roadside resto while waiting for the bus home. Buses in those years ran about 2 - 3 hours apart and the last trip through Bukidnon was in the mid-afternoon.

We took our time and one bottle led to another, and another, until we realized that the last bus home had just chugged by. Our remaining option was to take one of the vacant logging trucks going back to the mountains. The forests in Bukidnon in those years were still lush and thick and logging was big business. Surely in a matter of minutes an empty truck stopped for dinner and we asked the driver if we could hitch a ride to Bagontaas. He nodded and said that we would have to make ourselves comfy at the back of the truck since the cab was fully occupied. 

Roads back then were not paved and you could imagine the 5-hour bumpy ride at the back of the truck with us just sitting on some boxes of merchandise. At about 11:00 pm we got to the crossing where the road to MVC starts and where Bols lived. I decided to walk the 15 kilometers back to the school in spite of his vehement protest. I don't remember now why I wanted to get back urgently that night, maybe an important class was scheduled for the next day. Anyway Bols reluctantly wished me a safe walk home and I started walking - 15 kilometers in the middle of the night with nothing to illuminate the way.

There was virtually no vehicular traffic at night on those desolate hilly mud roads and there were only a few houses by the road that were by now standing in eerie silence. In a while I realized that I was passing the cemetery and the hair on my nape bristled at the cool wind blowing on me. Sing! Yes, sing, and that's what I did to take my mind off the nagging horror of the spirits stalking me through the rows of white tombstones and crosses. "Walking with Jesus" was just the right song for the fear and for the tempo of my strides, and in about 3 hours I was back in the comfort of my room.