On William Diehl, et. al

After I said my little prayer and the OFFLINE sign remained as it was, I got up from my chair and felt little needles stinging my ass as I opened the door and breathed in some air. The air outside was as polluted as the air inside. Although, the air outside was a much better choice.

As I walked down Espiritu Street passing through thousands of ukay-ukay stalls, my happy feet brought me to a newspaper stand I used to frequent as a child. I was busy reading the screaming headlines of the day when I chanced to looked up the line of books neatly piled in the shelves. They are unread but old, torn and faded through long exposures to wind, rain, dusts and anything only-God-knows-what. And then my heart stopped beating. For a moment.

In my hand was a book written by William Diehl. My eyes popped out and my hands shook for a brief moment as the attendant looked at me suspecting I’m a nut-case with my dirty slippers, torn jeans and a weird reaction on my face as I held the book. The attendant stepped aside as I uttered a “My God” while I made my way towards Angela’s Ashes written by Frank McCourt. A travel mate recommended to me this book and said it’s a good read and it's her mother’s favorite book. And finally, I found Roald Dahl, an old favorite.

Luck comes not twice, not thrice but frice, I mean, four times. At least in my case. I almost dropped the three books when the attendant told me each book costs 25 pesos! I was beginning to question my own sanity by then and asked myself “Where in the world was I?”

As I entered the place where the air is polluted inside, I was no longer bothered whether they call the men from England, Canada and Australia as Kano. I just met three of the world’s most wonderful Kano : William Diehl from Georgia, USA, Frank McCourt from Limerick, Ireland and Roald Dahl whose parents are Norwegian.

I sat back facing the OFFLINE sign. It doesn’t bother me anymore. So before my ass begins to numb and droplets of saliva lands on my right sleeve I closed my eyes and pray : “Dear Lord, thank you for the three books you have given me today. You know I searched far and wide for William Diehl, eager to know Frank McCourt and was so excited to be reunited with Roald Dahl. I know you took trouble to know the desires of my heart and thank you for fulfilling it. Can I save you from more trouble and give you the list of the books I so desperately want? You can deliver them at my door or I can go pick it up. Whichever is convenient for you and your angels, is fine with me. Thank you. Please txt back. Amen.”