The God Equation and Other Stories by Michael A.R. Co Read Free Book Online Page B

sound, although she might have snored at some point, and overall, I ’ d rate it as a lousy lay.
    Three hours later, they drove me back to my condo. I was in no condition to walk so they carried me to my living room, sang happy birthday, and raided my refrigerator. We had a few more beers and shared a joint . The room was spinning by the time they said their goodbyes, and I felt the urge to hurl. I threw up before I reached the toilet. I guess I blacked out.
    ***
    I dreamt of snow. My mother was spraying it from a can. She always liked to decorate the tree this way. I was six-and-a-half years old, and an only child. Christmas was always special if you ’ re the only child. It ’ s like having a second birthday five months away. I looked under the tree and it was still empty. “When are we going to put the gifts under the tree?” I asked, and my mother continued spraying snow on the branches and said, “Once we actually start receiving gifts.” 
    “When are the gifts coming?”
    “Maybe by the first week of December.”
    “That ’ s too far,” I said.
    “I know.”
    “Then why are you decorating the tree?”
    “I ’ m just dressing it up.”
    We just had a Halloween party the other week. I dressed up like E.T. and my mother tied a little flash light on my finger so I could make it glow in the dark. We went around our village in Alabang and went treat-or-treating. Halloween is my third favorite holiday, next to Christmas and my birthday.
    The phone rang and my mother stopped spraying the tree. She walked to the kitchen to answer the phone and I was left alone with the tree. The snow was like whipped cream. I had never seen real snow before and sometimes I think it looks like soap bubbles. This didn ’ t look like soap, it looked like cream. I stuck out my tongue and licked it…
    * * *
    I awoke on my bathroom floor, the taste of sick in my mouth. There was a buzzing sound in my ears, something like a throbbing, and I realized I could hear my own heart struggling to get my limbs to pull me up. Florescent lights too bright, my eyes insisted staying shut. My head was heavy as iron. I tried to kneel, holding on to the toilet rim for stability. I felt my stomach churn, vomit welling up inside me. I leaned over the toilet bowl and exploded, yellow muck and bits of beef and rice and sisig and nacho chips and salsa shooting out of my mouth and nose. Ever snort out barbeque-flavored nachos? Ain ’ t much fun, I guarantee.
    I wanted to go back to sleep, back to a time of fake snow and genuine smiles, of safety and innocence, of feel good surprises. I probably drifted in and out of dreamless unconsciousness for the next few minutes, before I managed to crawl into the bathtub. I twisted the shower knob full blast. The cold was sweet and shocking; my body jolted and my balls shriveled. I pulled of my wet clothes and scrubbed myself clean.
    I stepped on my clothes to dry my feet and walked dripping naked to my closet, forgetting that I had a towel in the bathroom. I put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and returned to the bathroom sink to brush my teeth. The mirror had misted up but I didn ’ t bother to clear it. In retrospect, I might ’ ve seen a shadow drift by.
    A few empty cans of beer had been carelessly left on my kitchen counter. It wasn ’ t a very large kitchen nor was it a very large condo (only 60 square meters which I had been renting for over two months). I crushed the cans and tossed them into the trash, shaking my head at how irresponsible my friends can be. I took two eggs from the fridge and was hunting for a bowl to scramble them in when I noticed that my front door was ajar. I shook my head again, pushed it closed, locked it.
    On the floor, a few inches from the door, a shiny object caught my eye. I hunker down to inspect it, picked it up with thumb and forefinger and they tinkled: a pair of earrings that belonged to the hooker, shaped like two silver bells.
    A shadow loomed over me. I looked over