Sleepers Creepers
I am not easily frightened of eerie things. I am more afraid of the living than of the dead. While I certainly have a healthy skepticism for the supernatural, I do think that there are nether regions in this world where beings unlike us exist (but I have no wish of exploring that region, thank you very much). After all, since I believe in God, then I have to believe in all the things that surrounds that belief. Otherwise, my belief would be nothing short of selective.
Fortunately, aside from my faith, I have yet to experience its opposite version. Its anti-thesis if you will. And as I said, I have no wish of experiencing such version. Although I must admit that I have a morbid fascination with the dark side, not enough to really seek it out, but enough to lure me to the moviehouse.
By morbid fascination, I don’t mean those The Grudge, or The Ring type of movies, though I watched The Ring and found the experience hilarious, what with all the people in the theater trying their damnedest to scare themselves.
I also do not go for the gory type of dark movies, I go for those with biblical basis. I rooted for The Prophecy, The Omen, Constantine and all those other The Book of Revelations based flicks, knowing fully well that when something is based on the bible, more often than not, it will have a good triumph over evil kind of ending.
The Prophecy was a personal favorite. It’s casting alone; Christopher Walken as the angel Gabriel, and Vigo Mortenssen as Lucifer (with the matching black fingernails), was superb. “He doesn’t talk to me anymore!” Was one of the angel Gabriel’s lines in that movie. That line reminded me of the holy man whom I used to talk to back in college. He said; “The worst punishment in hell is not being able to see the face of God.” Argh. Eternal sadness.
But I digress.
Anyway, last October 31, the night before Halloween, I was driving along “Bagong Tulay” in Sta. Mesa when it happened. “Bagong Tulay” is a 10 minute affair– if traffic permits. An alarming portion of its steel railings are already gone, courtesy of some of our desperate countrymen who have taken to looting government property to make an extra buck.
On that night however, I remember it was particularly dark, the bridgelights, like the government we have, were not working. Visibility was limited. As I was going down the bridge, I saw something on the island (that piece of pavement separating the left and the right lane). Because of the darkness, I couldn’t clearly see what it was. Getting closer, I saw that it was a man lying on his back.
I felt my gonads go up my throat as I slowed down, expecting the worst. It was indeed some guy, but instead of a bloody mangled body as my wildly imaginative mind is suggesting, the guy is just lying there with a pillow and a blanket, sleeping. “Free airconditioning for the masses”, I thought.
I don’t know what prompted that person to sleep there, putting himself in harm’s way. Was it the heat? Was it a literal example of being “outside the kulambo”? What if he rolled over in his sleep and some car was zooming by? What if some car lost control and decided to take refuge on the island? These were some of the thoughts running through my head as I heaved a sigh of relief and sped on my way home.
Two nights later, I used the same route and lo and behold, there wasn’t just one person sleeping under the stars, I saw three more, two even lying side by side. If only there were no cars involved, I would have thought that their sleeping side by side was romantic. But with the element of death thrown in, it was nothing short of foolish.
