Student A, Student B, Someone Called Elmer and then Me

 

Photo credit: rappler.com

After high school and before PT school, I had a peculiar educational phase wherein I studied all sorts of random things, from the English grammar to the Latin language;  Good Manners, Etiquette and such, to Historical studies of bizarre proportions.  I was weird and had some arbitrary choices in my life back then, so don't overthink about it.  This story is not about my education and the judgement I made.  This is about the interesting people I called friends from that class. 

We were only fourteen in that cohort. And my usual spot in our assigned seating before the start of the day was always situated between the two top students of our batch.  They were considered top due to their high academic ranking and probably their social presence in our small community.  It didn't matter who was number one (or number two, for that matter) during a certain rating period (well it was never established who was really the best and you'll see why in a bit) because every quarter, there was a shift on who was better of the two.  Those two top posts had always been filled up by Student A and Student B.  But neither wanted to take the second place.  The rest of us settled for number three downward.  And there had always been a silent war that brewed between Student A and B.  And it did not end in the classroom.  It extended and spilled over our social circles and everyday life, like who had greater number of followers or so-called friends; who was more affluent and drove a better car; who was wearing the best trousers, sneakers or cologne; or whoever excels in this field or that.  It was always a competition for both of them.  And the category was: Everything. 

 

Although there was war, nobody really got hurt.  But I could always feel the tension between them.  And I, as the peanut butter to their massive sandwich of egos, was too scared to fan the flames of contempt because we were all but a few feet away from each other and I was literally in the line of fire.  Of course, I did not want to be involved in a messy brawl of baguette sandwich proportions.  Just imagine me thrown into that war without my intention of joining.  I was the collateral damage, basically.   I kept silent on who said this, or what was stated about the other.  Until now.

 

During those days, I was the goody-two shoes.  I was popular in the community not for the same reasons as they were.  I was not the best in our class as that spot had been taken (and had been fought for by the said two classmates for years) but because I got along with others very much.  I had good comic timing and this was the reason why I was always placed in charge of the program or any event that involved people from the other circles.  But ironically, I was an introvert and never really participated during discussions.  But I was good at delivering one-liners when opportunity arose. 

 

Anywho, since I got along with others very much, both Student A and B wanted my approval not only because of my social status in that little aquarium we were in but because also they had no one to talk to during that early morning routine we were obliged to observe daily (and they probably needed an additional warm body to add to their hordes).  Perhaps they were also itching to tell someone the snide remarks they had about each other with somebody they could trust and who they knew would not squeal and reveal their, uhm, social commentary.  Student A was to my left, and student B was to my right.

 

The day started with a mass, which was the usual activity.  While waiting for the mass to start, and everybody was supposed to be in deep prayer-slash-meditation, Student A would whisper into my ear:  "Natutulog si B."  (B is sleping).  To which I would oblige and look at B’s direction.  He was either sleeping or pretending to be in deep trance ala St. Teresa of Avila.  "Nagdarasal lang." (He is just praying), I would say.  

"Hindi.  Natutulog talaga." (No.  He is really sleeping.)

"Hayaan mo na."  (Let it go). 

And then A goes back to praying.

 

In a few minutes Student B would whisper to me from my right side:  "A’s cologne stinks.  Smells like my grandma’s, smells ancient.”

And I would reply, "I think it’s Calvin Klein’s Escape”

He would say, "I don’t care if it’s Calvin Klein, it still stinks”

And me, "Just let it go, he is not bothering you”

 "Well, he is bothering my nostrils.”

And he would go back to his sleeping or deep trance meditation, whatever the heck he was doing.

 

Everyday, this would be our little ritual.  In between prayers, one would whisper a snicker about each other without either of them knowing that they had been stabbing each other on their backs with me as their cushion.  I was there laughing inside knowing their little secrets and thinking that if it was literally stabbing, they would both be dead from hemorrhage.

Sometimes even the tiniest bit of detail would go unnoticed through their ever-observant eyes.  Like how one wore his shirt/uniform two days in a row, as given away by the handkerchief wrapped around the collar to cover for the sweat stain from yesterday.  Or how one was wearing a sock with a hole on the heel.  As to how the hell he knew about it, I had no idea.  “Did you go through his closet last night?”

 

Even their singing was not spared.

"Parang Pavarotti" (Sounds like Pavarotti), one would quip in a condescending way.

“Sounds like a cockroach singing”, the other would say.  And there I was, in the middle of the storm, braving everything.  The biggest wall between them.  Like the one in Berlin.

 

The cool thing about this rivalry was how fun it turned out to be.  Everyone, well at least for me, enjoyed  watching them toss each other out without no one getting hurt.  And without nobody professing an all out invasion of Normandy.  Swabeng banatan, parang ganun.  It was healthy yet you can feel the stealth that both emitted out from their system.  They were civil to each other but you always felt the palpable tension between them.  Come to think of it, that was a nice way of putting it.  Civil.  Civil war.

 

If one topped the exams at one point, the other would make sure he would beat him up the next round.

Student A exceled in Music and English.  The grammar stuff and the eloquence.  He even composed songs with matching music sheets and delegated harmonies for the songs he made.  He was also a good speaker.  In an extemporaneous speech contest (whatever the heck it is spelled), me and Student B sat in the audience to support him.  Maybe for Student B, just to check if there was really "competition".  Well good thing Student A was up there in the stage delivering his Shylock Speech and we were down in our seats listening to him whip up a gallon or two of saliva while in front of the judges because he would have had a great ball of a time hearing student B's remark about his performance.  I knew I did. 

“Too many hand movements!”, “Why is he screaming?”, “I thought this was a speech contest?  He is literally doing a whole Broadway production up there!”, “There he goes, spreading his mess all over the place. “, “Jesus Christ!”

I was smiling.

Student A, I think, placed second, to Student B’s delight.  I was just there for the fun of it all.  Not for the contest itself but for the behind the scenes mischiefs that happened before, during and after the show. 

 

As for Student B, he was good in Logic, Math and Literature.  He was also a good speaker but in a subdued way.  The contents of his speech were always thought provoking because he delivered them with calm (and maybe, false honesty?).  So the only logical thing was to elect him as the editor-in-chief of the news bulletin in our little community.  Student A was fuming in disbelief because he felt he deserved the post.  So when the publication went out, I was with him copyreading the paper and noticing everything down to the smallest punctuation while giving his no holds-barred opinion.   

“There is no flow to the subject”, “He should have used past participle here (or something to that effect)", “Too many typos, I’m getting a headache”.

And again, there I was eating my popcorn in my pretend-lazy boy chair listening to him.

 

If they only knew that this thing existed between them, it would not have been much, as Reese Witherspoon would put it, "funner".  Well I guess they should have at least an idea of this friendly competition because I think they thrived in that environment.  I mean, learning would not be fun if you don't have someone to compare your plates with.  Nobody would strive for the gold if you are just the one running.  It made school exciting for all of us.  The fourteen of us.

 

Sometimes, the rest of us would wait, "Ano na naman kaya ang mangyayari sa dalawa?"  (What will happen between the two?” -a wait and see moment.  And it never failed to excite us.

 

In the end, as I have said a while ago, it was never established who was really the best in the class. I did not get to experience how the war had come to terms into ceasefire because I had to leave.  Just like in Berlin, the wall that separated them was torn down. 

 

During their graduation, which I attended with both their invitations, Student A was Magna Cum Laude and Student B was only Cum laude.  But the confusing part was the latter was the Top of the Class.  As to how this happened, I had no inkling at all.  Maybe the professors knew the competition between them was really stiff, and as to not mess up the ecosystem they had been breathing in, they decided to just give everyone a piece of the pie.

 

On two separate occasions that day, Student A told me, "Basta ako, Magna Cum Laude.  (I am Magna Cum Laude) That's the important thing."

And Student B said, "Basta ako ang top ng class.  'Yun ang mas importante". (I am top of the class.  That’s more important)

 

Well, great minds think alike, would you not agree?

 

And they ended up masters of their field.  They also finished that course that I ended up abandoning.  Although, I remained friends with both of them. 

Somehow along the way, I lost contact with Student B.  One time he saw me at the mall and called me, "Elmer! Kumusta na?"  (Elmer! How are you?)

Do I look like an Elmer to him?  I did not bother correcting Student B because he somehow realized along that quick second conversation that my name was not really Elmer.  I looked more of a Joseph.  But his sincere excitement of seeing me masked the embarrassment of calling me a different name. 

 

On the other hand, I kept the communication lines open with Student A for many years later.  I used to hang out with him a lot during summer breaks.  Up until now, believe me, although we all have matured (I'd like to think it that way as far as I am concerned), there is still that tension that I sense every time Student B's name is mentioned.

 

Now I am wondering, what would it be like if I tried to stay and then witnessed everything first-hand?  Perhaps someone would have been impaled if I told them what I knew all along.  It would be a massacre.  

 

I’m just kidding. I think one day, I have to go to either of them to confess my sins.  Starting with this one. 

Originally posted in Multiply on Jan 13, 2010, 12:03 AM

Edited September 6, 2020