Empire Streets Chapter 1: The Arrival

 At a brisk pace, he walked. His leathers shoes tippity-tapped across the carpeted floor as he made his way through the insides of the airport. It had almost been a day's worth of flying through the air, his body was weak and his mind was tired yet the nervousness and anxiety kept him going.

He wore black corduroy pants, a gray long-sleeved shirt tucked in, his hair slicked back reaching his neck, and a nervous smile on his lips. He was happy yet uncomfortable at the same time. The feeling of coming home to a foreign land engulfed him.

He approached a stall. In it, was a woman. Her black hair was neatly tied to a ponytail yet a careless wisp of hair fell unto the right side of her face. Her skin was chalk-white because of too much powder or makeup and her lips were bright red. A smile was present on her lips yet he couldn't tell what kind it is. A warm and welcoming smile? Or a madman's psychopathic grin? Her thick make-up made her look like a clown's auntie.

“Passport, sir?” She asked him, snapping him back to reality.

He reached into his back-pocket and pulled out his passport. He gave it to the lady and she gave him another smile. He was sure it wasn't intentional but the lady just made him more and more uncomfortable. Off she went, doing whatever she needed to do inside her little stall. He wasn't watching, he was looking at his watch. It was around 9 A.M. In the morning, it displayed. He tried to remember if he had already set it in the right time zone. It seemed that time turned to mush after that 23-hour long flight.

“Thank you for waiting,” the woman said, grinning as she returned his passport to him. Again, she flashed a creepy smile. “Welcome back to the Philippines, Mister Cross.”

Matthew Nodded politely and took what was his from her. He was careful not to show his uneasiness as he dashed off. He headed towards the baggage carousel where he waited for at least five minutes for his luggage. He fished out a single black Duffel bag. It seemed light enough, but with a strong build like his, a sack of rice might be as light for him. The outside of the airport was visible now-- it was sunny, the kind of weather Matt liked. He hung his bag on his left shoulder. He walked towards immigration, the final stop before his return.

After a few minutes, the automated door slid open, Matt stepped outside the airport and was back to old territory. Before anything else, he took in the view. People scrambling in and out the airport, some saying good-byes while others embraced their long-gone loved ones. Some security officers were making their rounds, few of them are with trained bomb-sniffing dogs. Taxis or cabs were lined up near the east end, waiting for potential clients. After seeing this, he knew he was home.

Suddenly, a hand from behind gripped his left shoulder.

“Where do you think you're going, asshole?” a voice of a man said behind his back.

Matt only sighed. It had been five years since he heard that voice. Even more, he was convinced he was home. He turned around, brushed off the hand on his shoulder and offered a warm smile.

“Long time, Frank.” Matt said.

“Can the bullshit pleasantries, you son of bitch,” Frank said with a smile, shook Matt's hand and gave him a brother's embrace. “You should've called in and told us you were coming home! I didn't have to hear it from the damn grapevine.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Matt shook his head. “I guess nothing escapes your network. Damn shame.”

Frank Moreno was man a few inches shorter than Matthew. He wore a white Panama hat- his signature, Khaki pants and a tropical shirt. His brown eyes were shielded by round sunglasses. Out of the two friends, Frank seemed more like the tourist.

“A man could live off knowing a rumor or two,” said Frank with coy confindence. “I get paid to speak. Even more when I shut up.”

“And here I thought I gave you the slip.”

“Hah, in your dreams, asshole. The only reason you went off the grid for a year is because I allowed it,” Frank looked around, as if looking for invisible men watching their little reunion. “Come on, Let's get outta here. I got a car out back, let me carry that for ya,” Frank took the Duffel bag from Matt. As soon as Matt released his grip, the whole weight shifted on Frank's shoulders and made him lose his balance. “On second thought, you keep it,” his voice was strained. When Matt took his bag back, Frank let out a sigh of relief. His friend couldn't help but chuckle at Frank's effort. “What the hell's inside that thing?”

An innocent expression shrouded Matthew's face. A little innocent for his old friend. “Just my stuff.”

“Whatever,” Frank raised his arms as a gesture of resignation. “Just put it in the trunk. Let's get outta here.”

On the road, Matthew remembered his childhood. He remembered when his dad took him and his brother out in Manila. Traffic was almost always unbearable. He spent his time at the back seat, just watching the road speed by or the bumper to bumper scene when it was rush hour. It amused him how not much has changed. He sat at the passenger seat as Frank drove his Camry while singing a tune from his MP3 collection. He hummed the tune of Nirvana's “Smells like Teen Spirit” as his fingers tapped the steering wheel to the tune. Frank even forgot he had a passenger who was being awfully quiet. He decided to change it. Frank turned down the volume as soon as he hit the brakes for a stoplight.

“Nostalgia hitting hard?” Frank asked.

“I guess so.” Matt sighed.

“Hah, I thought you're tired of The Life. That's why you went legit. Studied for years abroad and come back home a different man. That was your plan, right?

Matt remained silent.

“Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's not The Life you've missed. Maybe it's someone...”

Matt gave Frank a look that meant he was right.

“Ha, I knew it. Still thinking about her, eh? With all them chicks abroad, you still want that little shy girl back home.” Frank laughed.

“It's been five years, Frank. I wonder if she still remembers me.” Matt sighed.

“Trust me, she does.” Frank replied with the most confident if smiles.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I spent five years hearing her stories. About your promise to return and that whole sickeningly sweet monologue you pulled off.,” Frank made a hilarious Matthew Cross impression. “After five years, I'll come back. I'll come back and marry you!”

“I doubt she still remembers that.”

“The hell did I just say?” Frank raised his voice, sounding quite comical. “You have no idea how many guys she had to turn down all because of you. Sometimes I think Marian ain't right in the head. Then I remember both of you are insane.”

“All because of me?” Matt repeated, pondering on that thought made a smile appear on his lips. “Is that right? Wonder where she is now.”

“Grab my damn MP3, switch it to my next playlist,” Frank said. “By the time that's over, we'll reach her place.”

Matt's eyes widened with surprise, happiness and a little bit of fear.

TO BE CONTINUED