Leche by R. Linmark

Author:R. Linmark
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-56689-272-8
Publisher: Coffee House Press
Published: 2011-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHANGING TIMES FIVE

At the 10 ITEMS OR LESS CASH ONLY express line, Vince hands the postcards to one of four female employees fighting post-lunch narcolepsy behind the register. One of them takes the postcards from Vince.

The disturbing image of a slain Filipino who, as the caption says, had run amok and killed an American soldier wakes her from her noonday trance.

“And they say martial law was bad,” she says, showing it to her coworkers.

One by one, she looks through Vince’s postcards.

“Is that Emilio Aguinaldo?” the one beside her asks, pointing her mouth to the portrait of a Philippine president with a top hat, white gloves, bowtie, and tasseled cane.

“Yes.” She gives it to the cashier, who says she’s appalled that her ancestors elected a dog for a president.

“No wonder we lost the war against the Americans,” she says.

“Excuse me,” Vince says, “I’d like to pay for them now.”

The one closest to the cash register says, “Ang sungit,” which translates to: “What a dick!”

The postcards are handed back to the salesclerk farthest from the register. She begins counting them.

Vince is about to say ten when she silences him with her palm. After a recount, she brings a thick book marked POSTCARD RECORDS out from under the cash register and copies down the caption of each card while the others watch her beautiful penmanship appear across the page.

“Chocolate Hills, Bohol, Philippines.”

“Seminarians, Vigan, Ilocos Sur, 1929.”

“Tarsius Philippensis is the world’s oldest mammal…”

“One-sixth of the Filipino population was killed in the Philippine-American War.”

“Emilio Aguinaldo signing the Declaration of Independence on June 12, 1898, in Malolos, Bulacan.”

“First bred in Manila Zoo in 1962, the zebronkey is half-zebra, halfdonkey.”

Once she’s done writing her epic, she passes the postcards to the checker, who hands them over to the bagger, who gives them to the cashier, who scans them one by one across the barcode detector.

“Fifteen pesos,” the cashier says.

Vince hands her a twenty-peso bill.

“Do you have any change, sir?”

“Yes,” Vince says.

The cashier holds her palm out to Vince who, by this time, is ready to run amok himself. He shoots her a murderous look that quickly develops into a staring contest, with the other clerks fastening their eyes on him as well. The contest would have lasted until closing time but Vince, unable to control his temper any longer, says, “What are you talking about? I gave you a twenty-peso bill and you said the cards add up to fifteen pesos.”

“That’s right,” the cashier says. “And I asked you for change.”

“Let me start again,” Vince says. “Twenty minus fifteen is five, right?”

Offended, the cashier tells him she’s not stupid, that she passed the entrance exam at Saint Benilde.

“I didn’t say you were,” Vince says. “You did.”

The cashier glowers at him. The other salesclerks exchange puzzled looks.

“I just want to know why you have to make something simple so damn complicated,” Vince says.

“It’s not, sir,” the cashier says. “It’s actually very simple. You’re the one who’s getting high blood pressure for nothing.”

“Then why are you asking me for change when you should be giving me change?”

“Because a change for a change, sir.

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