Eleven

Conduct Awardee, hee hee I sported that haircut ‘til I was in sixth grade. Mom was a Beatles fan, and it wasn’t until I was in first year high school that I had my hair trimmed at a barber shop.

Sometimes, I miss being eleven. Sure, I wasn’t one of the cool, athletic kids, but I was happy with my interests, which mostly consisted of comic books, cartoons and my He-Man action figures. I had a good childhood. I can’t complain; I was raised by hardworking parents who kept reiterating the importance of studying. I suppose they’re also grateful. When I was in Grade One, I won first place in my school’s Science quiz contest, as well as third in the Spelling contest (it was a tie between me and old classmate Marco Dimaano).

By the time I transferred to another school in Muntinlupa when I was nine, my interests remained the same. I still enjoyed reading. I frequented the library after classes, and I borrowed books, many of which were illustrated. The ones I can remember off the bat include those about aliens, ghosts and monsters (they might be old DK Books, if the publishing company already existed), as well as Peanuts Encyclopedias, Burne Hogarth’s Tarzan, different hardbound versions of Aesop’s Fables, Dr. Seuss titles, and many more (I liked the Choose Your Own Adventure series, but the library didn’t have them). The only other person from my class that I often ran into in that strangely welcoming haven was a girl who wrote well, Leah. I forget what she liked reading, but she was a nice, quiet person.

The school was only a few blocks from the house, so I walked home everyday, excited about the stuff I borrowed. After returning them on their due dates, I'd borrow those I really enjoyed for a second time. I was still heavily into superhero comics, and I would discover when I was eleven that it was easy to draw the figures by just copying them and not tracing. I began drawing super-characters I created on the backs of my notebooks and mimeographed textbooks. They had their never-ending slam-bang fisticuffs. Eventually I played with my brother’s prized Speedball pen set and copied the cover of an Uncanny X-Men issue featuring Colossus versus the Vision (drawn by John Romita, Jr. and Dan Green) on oslo paper.

By sixth grade I was so bored with school that I would feign sickness almost everyday. All I wanted to do was look at my comic books and draw. I honestly felt that I didn’t want to go to school anymore because I had no enthusiasm for it (a story for another day, yes). But during one of the days when I forced myself to attend my tedious classes, it was the annual Book Fair. At one of the tables near my classroom, a nice lady, Mrs. Simbulan, was peddling new comic books! She told me about her new shop called Comic Quest. It was a five-peso, 10-minute tricycle ride away. I went to school every day thereafter primarily to save my allowance for quite a number of Marvel comic books (and the occasional Crisis on Infinite Earths issues). That was a good time to read stories about superheroes.

Life as a geeky boy was funny and weird, now that I think about it. My memories about certain events remain very vivid. Before things were irrevocably altered by adolescence and its complications, I was a kid who never thought about the future. I never thought I’d ever grow up. And in some ways, at certain times, I’m still that youngster, devoid of any real-world concerns.

My worries then were different, of course. I fervently prayed to Jesus that my circumcision wouldn’t hurt, and that he would always keep me safe from manananggals and other kinds of vampires. And that I’d go to Heaven to join God, Mother Mary and the angels when I die.