The Home of a Peripatetic

written by Kyla Javier

illustrations by Jansen Wong

I HAVE A SECRET TO TELL YOU.

My friend has been acting really weird in the past few months.

His name is Aspen, and we’ve been friends since we were kids. He’s a typical lanky boy, his hair meticulously cropped in a two by three haircut and black-rimmed eyeglasses. We’re in college now, with him studying engineering while I major in biology.

He started acting weird in the summer, during the midyear term. It was really difficult to get general education subjects during the regular semester, so we took the opportunity to get them in the midyear when most of the students went back to their provinces for the break.

We both live in Marikina which is a fifteenminute ride away from campus. He was walking to the footbridge near the jeepney station when I saw him. My childish instincts came into life as I ran to him to grab his bag and pull him backward in an attempt to startle him. He yelped in indignation, and the expression painted on his face as he looked at me made my heart stop.

For a moment, Aspen’s face had no traces of recognition. It was fleeting and was replaced by confusion, his eyes searching for something in my face. It felt so awkward, standing there at the bottom of the footbridge while multiple people passed by as we stared at each other.

He jolted suddenly, as if someone flicked a switch in his mind. “Jules?” I sighed in relief, but the uncertainty in his face put an unsettling feeling in my gut. “Did you have amnesia or something? Are you sick?” I patted the back of my hand on his forehead in an attempt to joke. His temperature was fairly normal. “...No, no. I’m just,” Aspen started climbing the stairs. I scrambled to catch up to him with my short legs. “...out of it.” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say...” We walked in silence until we reached the other side. As we descended the stairs, I asked him, “What happened to you?”

Aspen really seemed out of it, and the way he talked felt like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I just... read a lot of assigned readings last night. You know, for Arts 1 and Soc Sci.”

We were already at the base, and I playfully shoved him as we crossed the street. “Sana all. My attention span could never take those pretentious readings.”

Aspen let out a nervous chuckle. We walked in silence.

We were nearing Palma Hall where both of our classes are held when I felt my shirt soaked with sweat. I took out my mini fan from my bag and turned it on. “I don’t think I can take this heat and my classroom’s zero ventilation.”

We were about to go our separate ways, with Aspen’s class on the first floor, when he said, “Really? It feels cold...”

I paid his comment no mind until I arrived at my classroom.

I was on my seat, waiting for the class to start. As I was scrolling through social media while holding my mini fan close to my face, I received a notification from my weather app. Today’s temperature is 35°C.

I was getting sick of the food near AS, so I asked Aspen to have lunch with me in the Math building (don’t judge me, I find their food passable). I texted him as my class was starting to wrap up, and I watched the bubble beside his icon move for several minutes before his reply came through.

It was a simple okay. I saw Aspen waiting for me at the lobby, seated on one of the low benches. He waved at me as I walked to where he was seated. “What took you so long to reply?” I teased him. “I swear that bubble was moving for like, ten minutes.”

Aspen stood up and gathered his stuff. He was already walking to the exit when he replied, “I’m just not used to this phone.”

I watched his retreating back in confusion for a few seconds before running to catch up to him. “What are you talking about? You’ve had that phone for two years.”

He glanced at me and smiled. He ruffled my hair and held me in a headlock. “Nevermind.”

The incredulous look on my face when he kept walking to the street near NISMED where the IKOT jeeps pass by must have been too apparent,

because he looked at me in a sheepish manner while rubbing the back of his head.

“Why are we taking the long route?” “Isn’t it going to be farther if we take the route passing by UPIS?” Aspen replied with a frown. “What is wrong with you?” I asked in exasperation. “Have you forgotten about the arboretum?”

“The what? Are we even allowed to pass through there? Isn’t that a restricted area?” The words coming out of his mouth sounded like a joke, but his serious tone said otherwise.

“It’s not? I pass through the arboretum every day in the last two semesters! A lot of students pass by!” I grabbed his right hand and dragged him to the entrance where the cardboard standee of a tree greeted us. “What is wrong with you?” Aspen did not reply. As we were walking down the rocky and muddy path, I noticed the complete look of awe and wonder in his face. At some point, he just stopped walking, seemingly taking in every plant and tree his eyes landed on. “They’re so...” He takes a deep breath, “..green.” At this point, I am seriously getting weirded out, but I found myself teasing him, “Of course they’re green! They’re not going to be blue, bruh. Is this the first time you’re looking at—” My hands gestured at everything around us, “—plants?” Aspen looked like he finally snapped out of his trance and continued walking down the path. A strong gust of wind blew and with the whistling of the air, I thought I heard a soft yes.

The stream of weirdness came and went in the succeeding months. At first, I felt really unsettled, but the fast pace of life in the university didn’t leave me much time to think. I tried not to dwell on the day we were walking through the gardens in the Biology building and saw a bee hovering over the flowers. I thought all the bees were all dead, he said. I tried not to think about that time when we went to the ocean park, where he was childlike in his amazement. “This is the first time I’ve seen them moving! All my life I thought I’d only see taxidermy.” I didn’t want to spoil his fun, but I’m pretty sure I’ve brought him to the Biology building where there are different fish that were housed in tanks. I tried to not make a big deal out of the time when I told him I was scared of the approaching typhoon with wind speeds greater than 230 kilometers per hour, and he asked me in confusion, “Why are you scared of a signal number 1 typhoon?” I tried to dismiss it as one of his more-than-twenty-four-hours-awake moments. I told myself not to overthink about the time he mistakenly wrote his name as Aspen Rodriguez IV in a signature campaign. I remember elbowing him. Aren’t you a junior? He crossed out the IV in panic and replaced it with a Jr. I looked at him in a mix of concern and disbelief.

I tried to dismiss them, but they were at the back of my mind. Sometimes, I wondered if Aspen lived in another time, which was absurd. I think I need to get more sleep.

It was the 20th of September. I craved for pancit canton, so Aspen and I ate lunch at the Sunken Garden, sitting on one of the concrete benches. I was munching on my chilimansi pancit canton with a side of dynamite sticks when we noticed people gathering for a mob. That Pikachu mascot was so cute. “Jules,” Aspen tried to get my attention. “I have something to tell you.”

I tore my gaze away from the colorful banners of the mob. “Is this the part where you tell me that you’re in love with me and then our friendship falls apart because I don’t feel the same?”

Aspen looked like he wanted to shove me off my seat if not for the pancit canton plate I’m holding. He let out a small laugh. “That’s not it.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Then what is it?” “I’m sure you’ve found me acting weird in the past few months.”

I returned my gaze to the people gathering on the other side of the street. “Weird doesn’t even capture how you’re acting.” I shifted the way I sat, now facing him with my legs crossed on top of the bench. I looked at him expectantly.

The program at the other side of the street seemed to be starting, and the banging of the drums almost drowned his reply. “I am not the Aspen you knew.”

I laughed at the absurdity of it all. “So, it wasn’t just me losing my mind?”

Aspen (or not Aspen) laughed as well. “No, I’m from a hundred years in the future. The Aspen you knew, he’s my grandfather. That’s why you’re familiar. He’s told me countless of times about his dearest friend Jules.” He elbowed me playfully. “Was it an accident?” Aspen raised his eyebrows. “You going back in time, I mean. Was it an accident or did you willingly go back?” “Does it matter?” The drums on the other side of the street were thundering, catching his attention.

“You’re right. You’re already here, watching the world fall apart into the sorry state you once knew.”

“I don’t think that will happen, though.” Aspen said as he watched the mob start their program. We are unstoppable, a better world is possible. Sigaw ng kabataan, sagipin ang kalikasan. “There’s still hope.”

There is no Planet B. Last September 20th, 2019, hundreds of environmental activists gathered at the University of the Philippines Diliman to participate in the Global Climate Strike. Led by Youth Advocates for Climate Action in the Philippines (YACAP), the strike called for systemic change as a solution to the world’s worsening climate crisis. System Change, not Climate Change! This climate strike will not be the last.