Nupling

Best Friends

Some portions of this entry have been adapted from Nupling, a feature article published in 1975 in the Philippine Chronicle, a fortnightly Chicago tabloid that I edited.

Of all the BFFs I loved before, hands down, without any additional hand-waving or pointing, she's my Number One.

Nupling.

She was my best friend and roommate from college through graduate school days.

A smile.

A welcome.

That was how she greeted me every day. But she wasn’t a big talker. Just waiting to hear what I’ve been up to. A confidante. 

I didn't care.

I could tell her about the super-cute Youth Minister whom I had planned on marrying someday. (Be still, my rapidly beating heart.) How every Sunday afternoon I'd attend MYF, my giant pair of sparkly earrings trembling in anticipation, my hair teased up. (Aside: that was the fashion. The higher the hair, the closer to heaven. I know, right?)

She kept me company. And watched Dance-O-Rama with me. Every.Single.Day.

She always stayed close by my side. Her footfall was deceptively light, almost as if she wanted not to be heard. She just loped about, giving off an air of slight distraction, as if her mind were always on higher things. 

When love came to conquer, she became one of thousands who proved true the adage that love was blind. The object of her affection was small, short, brown, and had that eternally-puzzled, if not simple-minded look. 

Who knew?

She was just curled up on the rattan sofa when suddenly life lifted her up and spun her around and made her heart flip. And then? 

Things happened. I sensed that it was too late when she gave a happy skip and then disappeared down the hall. It wasn't long before she got pregnant. I didn't have a clue. 

And I thought we were best friends! I sputtered. That you would at least have told me. As I said that, the briefest flicker of emotion seemed to pass over her face.

I was just a big talker. I did nurture my best friend through the eventful day of her delivery. Apprehensive and curious, I peered at the newborn, the most odd-looking ... set of triplets. I couldn't help gushing, Adorable! Nupling tried to scowl, then muttered something I couldn't hear.

Motherhood didn't lessen our devotion to each other. For her part, Nupling stayed up with me on those thesis-writing nights.

Looking back, what I would remember most of our times together was that morning. It was my wedding day. 

Nupling had padded slowly into the room and with a sigh, plopped down by my bed. She sat a moment, brooding as she did when gathering her thoughts. I think she had appointed herself to look over all the details of my attire, ready to come up with a big opinion.

Truth. My embroidered pina sheath gown was pretty. 

I emerged from underneath my garment, my hands flapping vaguely in the air, looking like I just stepped through the wardrobe into Narnia. At the risk of stating the obvious….

… I looked awesome.

Seriously. 

She just stared at me funny, like there was a piece of pandesal on my face or toilet paper stuck on the bottom of my flip flops and she didn't know how to tell me. She seemed to smile, but I couldn't be sure. 

I recall how I awarded Nupling a playful pop on top of the head with my palm. She closed her eyes, exhaling heavily, and cocked her head.

We stood in silence as I examined myself in the mirror, staring ahead as though hypnotized.

It was a tranquil scene - a gathering of best friends who knew each other to the heart and who confidently relied on the faith of their friendship. One of her ears flopped over.

She then nudged up against my left leg, begging for an ear scratch...

... her tail wagging, three fast tick-tocks.