The Storm That Left Us Behind

Like any god, it seemed he wanted my faith too, after all.

(PHOTO | JOSEP CASTELLS)

Meet me where the lightning strikes twice.

This, among other strange things, was what he told me before he disappeared off the face of the earth.

In retrospect, I thought he would be one of the multitudes of people who ghosted me. That is how it was in the dating app world anyway, and I always felt like an outsider. I, the starry-eyed hopeless romantic, lost in the sea of one-night standing, chiseled abs-having Adonises, just living for the moment.

Even among them, he was different.

A few months ago while swiping on Tinder, I came across Thor. That was his name on his profile, along with a painting of a long-haired Viking looking man. Typical, I thought. Fake profiles run abound dating apps like these, like sordid hay obscuring the proverbial needle I needed to find amongst the half-naked stack. But there was something interesting about his bio that made me swipe right.

Meet me where the lightning strikes twice.

We matched, and I sent him a message. Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice!

I didn’t know what would transpire then. Most of these dummy accounts, either on Facebook or Tinder, are too scared to show their faces. Perhaps they are unattractive, or hiding from a lover and a relationship doomed to failure. Either way, I knew it was a bad idea. But the best stories do come from bad ideas, after all.

They do, he replied.

How do you know?

I happen to know a thing or two about lightning.

Why, are you a meteorologist? I challenged. He was beginning to sound more and more like a troll, and I was a couple of replies away from blocking him.

Not a meteorologist. He paused, and it took a few moments before he continued, the three little dots in the message bar cycling like a broken pendulum. I am the god of lightning, though.

I thought role players, or RPers, like my fellow Gen Zers call them, only existed on Facebook. I didn’t think they will find their way to dating apps, but I digress. I smirked as I read his name again and again. Thor, I mumbled.

I guess you can call me Loki, then, I said.

You don’t look evil enough to be a Loki, he replied. But suit yourself.

It didn’t feel fair at first; there was an imbalance of information, him seeing all of my pictures and knowing what I look like, where I am from and even what I do for a living, and yet I knew nothing about him. Strangely, aside from claiming that his name was Thor and that he was the god of lightning, he didn’t seem strange. He didn’t pretend that he was immortal or from Asgaard or some weird stuff like that. Instead he told me how he liked to collect and paint books; how it was his dream to conquer the world one museum at a time; how he abhors adobo whatever protein it was made with.

Blasphemous, I said. Who knew that vinegar and soy sauce can drive away a god?

If a plant can kill Balder, are you surprised at what simple things can be our weakness?

Soon, my days were not complete without him. I would wait for his messages and smile to myself like an idiot at whatever absurd things he had to offer me. Video call, please? I didn’t want to scare him away, but it has been four weeks of constant communication. Surely, he was too dedicated to be a random troll, and I was curious at what he looks like.

You cannot see my face, he said.

Why not?

You don’t know me. You don’t know what I am capable of.

It’s just a video call. I want to hear your voice. You don’t have to show your face if you don’t want to.

I didn’t know why he didn’t want to show his face. From the looks of his long, wavy hair caressing his broad shoulders, I filled in the gaps of how beautiful he really was. Happy? He said in reluctant exasperation.

For how he liked to display power and godliness through chat, his light baritone could not hide his innate kindness. You should sleep already, it’s late, he would say with the softest rebuke you can imagine a god can. Yes, he was lightning, but soon enough I wanted to be the thunder in his wake.

Can I see you?

You can’t.

Why, are you far? I am from Marikina. Even with the pandemic, I would have found a way to see him.

I am everywhere.

This whole god of lightning thing is seriously getting old, I said in disappointment. It was all my fault, anyway; how could I have allowed myself to get pulled into all this role playing shit? I was ready to tell him that we should stop chatting then and there.

But I am the god of lightning. I wanted to block him, but what the heck? Humoring him for the last time seems like an apt farewell.

Prove it then, my lord. Is that how I should address you?

No, just Thor. And yes, I can prove it to you, but it will have consequences.

I don’t care about those, I said. What can he do, anyway?

The middle of summer didn’t make room for a lot of rain showers, unlike, say, the tail-end of June towards the rainy season. That day was the same: the cloudless sky giving way to an unforgiving heat searing the close-knit roofs over the slums I live in. Usually, I would spend the day malling to take advantage of the free air-conditioning, but the pandemic didn’t allow even that.

I will bring you rain, he said. I didn’t know what he meant, and neither did I believe him. Soon. however, dark clouds appeared out of nowhere, bringing an anachronistic but welcome deluge. I could hear the raindrops patter over my roof, and the jubilant shrieks of my neighbors created a weird symphony. You are welcome, I heard Thor’s voice through the screen. He sounded tired and weak.

Weird coincidence, I told him. He shook his head and tutted, his dark curls swaying lazily over his shoulders. It’s fine if you don’t believe me. I don’t need your faith. I am not that kind of god anyway. But I must rest now; bringing rain took a lot out of me.

He was true to his word. Three days, I tried messaging him, but no response, and I didn’t have that paid feature on these apps to know when he was online or not. Was he angry at me? I thought. Perhaps I didn’t have faith in him, like he said. Maybe that was what he needed.

I’m sorry. I believe you now. I sent him. At that point, the anxiety was enough to push me to say anything really. I didn’t necessarily believe in what I said; but it didn’t matter. The fire notification appeared over the top left of my phone screen, making my heart cartwheel in place.

Do you really? He asked. I didn’t answer. Where were you?

I told you I was resting, I messaged back. It was like nothing happened. Everything was back to normal. His hair was still long and curly, splayed over the broadness of his back; but I noticed there were white streaks in them now, like he was entering middle age a full thirty years too early.

The rain is falling really hard here, I told him one day in July. It was around the start of the monsoon season so I was used to it. I can’t say I was worried then, but living near the river meant I had to keep one eye open in this weather even as I slept. How are things there?

Nice try, I still will not tell you where I am.

Well, I thought you were everywhere?

I am.

I chuckled. For some reason, he made me feel secure. The wind was howling now, slamming against the eaves of the house. Be careful; the typhoon will not abate anytime soon. Get to higher ground as soon as you can. Thor’s message was concerning, but at the same time, we were living on the third floor of an apartment building. There was no way the flood would reach us. I bid him good night and turned off my data.

I was woken up by the sound of screams against the vicious howling of the wind. I thought of going back to sleep, but I felt something cold hit my feet; water, water was coming in my room! In shock, I sat up on the side of the bed only to fall into floodwater; there was no power and the light had gone out. In panic, I grabbed my phone from the bed stand and climbed out the window to the balcony as the door was already impossible to open at that point. I managed to make it outside, the water rising fast to my chest. How could this happen? I thought. Everything was normal a few hours ago. Now, the only safe haven was the stairs leading to the rooftop. A few more hours of rain and even then it could no longer protect us.

I cursed myself for not charging my phone the night before; I have never been one to think ahead. I called my parents, but neither can be reached. They told me not to do this; they told me I was too young to move out, but here I was, stubborn and headstrong and most likely dead. It was funny how the prospect of dying can flush out all the regret from you like the water steadily rising now to the balcony. If my short life will flash before my eyes, I wonder what I would see?

A spoiled only child throwing tantrums

The first and last time I kissed a girl

The one time I wrecked my dad’s car

Meet me where the lightning strikes twice

I don’t know why I did it, or why I thought I needed to. There are sobs and muted cries around me, and here I was, opening my dating app once again. There were messages from him, more than he had ever sent me in succession. Are you well? Please be safe. Respond when you can. I can feel the deluge from the clouds above. Please protect yourself. I type back, my freezing hands in tremors because of the rain.

Thor, I don’t know if this will reach you before I drown. But thank you for bringing back the sun once before. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I am glad to have met you, Thor.

The little bit of my battery was used to post useless help messages to social media, basically anyone. But the dozen people with me huddled on that rooftop did the same, and no help came. The waters just came too hard too fast. We are at the mercy of the sky, and she decided to be vicious.

I closed my eyes. My phone beeped. One final notification before it finally runs out of juice. Goodbye, Loki. Thor said. Just one word. It sounded ominous, not something you would tell someone on the brink of death.

As soon as my phone’s screen turned dark as the sky, however, the pellets of rain pummeling us suddenly ceased; the clouds that obscured the sun disappeared like smoke going up a chimney, revealing the bright blue sky above. It was like nothing happened.

It took a few days before power returned, and my frantic parents finally found their way to see me at the evacuation center once the waters ceased. Somehow, though, the first thought I had when I had the chance to turn on my phone again was Thor. I opened the app, but there was no activity. Goodbye. His last message said, mocking me with the mystery that he left.

I tried calling him and messaging him to no avail. It was like he disappeared off the face of the earth. Meanwhile, both my parents are fussing over me while randomly mumbling stories. It’s weird. When we left Nueva Ecija to come see you, the storm was gone from here. But there, it was the worst thunderstorm in decades. So many crops have died…My father trailed off, but something about what he said resonated in me somewhat.

Sudden thunderstorms in Nueva Ecija?

I asked my parents if I can come home with them for the meantime, which they gladly acquiesced to. Everywhere, rice stalks bowing to the elements filled my vision. Nothing was saved, but I think my parents were just glad that I was safe to care about their losses.

I ran across the rice fields like I used to as a child, not really knowing where to go. I had Thor in my mind, and even then, I didn’t know why. But I just knew he had been here. There was no other explanation how a storm in Manila could suddenly transfer miles away. Only he had the power to do it. But why did he say goodbye?

The sky was bright and cloudless, and soon I had to close my eyes to protect them from the sun. The winds picked up and whispered in my ear; I spread my arms aloft, feeling the breeze escape through the sleeves of my shirt.

Meet me where the lightning strikes twice.

I opened my eyes in sudden realization; the sun was gone. Instead, an ominous cloud was swirling above, making the dead rice stalks rustle, as if they could feel fear. A single bolt of lightning razed through the sky, cutting the gray with a flash of white, followed by the sound of thunder. Where the lightning struck smelt of burnt grass and iron, and it was black and emitted smoke.

I looked up at the sky again, waiting for a sign that never came. Like any god, it seemed he wanted my faith too, after all. I laughed like a lunatic as I ran as fast as my sodden feet could take me towards where the lightning met the ground. I closed my eyes, put both hands on my chest. Soon, I heard the rumble of the angry sky. The first drops of rain baptized my head.

See you soon, Thor.

News Report

The body of a local 23-year old male was discovered in a rice field in Carranglan, Nueva Ecija, yesterday, July 17th. The man was discovered lying face-up with his arms across his chest. There were rust colored burns across his body like spider-webs. According to the medico legal team, the man died of cardiac arrest after being struck by lightning. No foul play was suspected as per local police.

Jay-ar Paloma is an HR executive by day and a frustrated artist by night. He has extensive background in campus journalism as an editor-in-chief in elementary and high school as well as a contributor in his college days in UP Diliman. Currently the Associate Editor at Vox Populi PH, he likes to read and write fiction and opinion pieces relating to LGBTQ, social media, and culture. When not engrossed in a book, he is probably playing a tune on his guitar or keyboard. Leave your love notes to Jay-ar here: jr@voxpopuliph.com.