A late Father's Day story...

My Father's Day story is not about my own old man.

I was on my way home from Toy Story 3. Usually, I would take a cab from Makati if it's already late. But it was difficult to get a cab that night, and I had to take the long route - Buendia.

On any other day, I would choose one of those designer cabs. But it was late, I was in Buendia-Taft and I didn't want to take so much time waiting in that area so I decided to take the next best decent-looking cab that came my way.

After telling the driver where to go, he stepped on the gas and we were on our way.

When we reached the Manila City Hall, Manong asked me something and that started the conversation, which is now my Father's Day story.

Manong just got back from Pampanga. And that particular night was his first day back at work. He told me he was spending the past few months healing a physical wound.

It was a December night, according to Manong. He picked up two male passengers in Intramuros around 2 in the morning. When they were along the Pier area, one of the guys pulled out a gun and announced a holdup.

Manong gave all his earnings that day to the two scums of the earth. But that wasn't evil enough. Scum A told Scum B that they should already go because they got the money anyway. Scum B, however, wanted to finish Manong. He told his companion that Manong already saw their faces and could easily identify them.

Good old Manong managed to keep his senses alert amidst all of this. While the two idiots were discussing, Manong quickly opened the door and ran as fast as he could.

Scum B probably panicked and started shooting at Manong. Determined to escape, Manong kept on running. It wasn't until he felt a pain on his thigh that Manong realized he was hit. Once his body became fully aware of his condition, he collapsed on the pavement.

He was lying on the pavement bleeding and worrying that his assailants might return and finish him. Thinking that it might be the end, Manong did what he thought was the only thing he could at that situation, say his final prayer and asked the Lord to take care of his family. He was ready to accept that it was the end, similar to how Woody and his companions thought it was their time at the incinerator.

Just when Manong thought that it was already the end, a car passes by and stops. He could hear male and female voices. The woman was asking the guy to go help Manong. The guy refused saying that it was probably some modus operandi. Manong heard the car's motor roar and leaving.

The good side of the couple took over and they backed up, took Manong in and brought him to the hospital. As with most hospitals, they demanded for a deposit before treating a patient, even if that person was already bleeding to death from a gunshot wound. The couple pleaded, but the hospital staff had the same answer, "No deposit, No treatment."

The couple drove Manong back to his house. The bleeding seem to have stopped anyway. Seeing the condition of the family - three kids, a wife afflicted with cancer - the couple gave Manong the money they had and left.

Because Manong could not go to work anymore, the family had no rent money and was evicted from their home by the landlord. A neighbor offered a shelter in Pampanga. It wasn't a home. It wasn't even a house. It was the place farmers use for resting from harvesting in the middle of the day. It was smack in the middle of rice fields.

That's where Manong and his family have been spending the past few months. Unable to drive and get work, Manong's eldest kid - a daughter - had to help the family. She went around the community, and offered to do laundry and press clothes.

This is what breaks Manong's heart. His voice faltered while he told how his daughter had to help out. He felt sorry that his daughter had to stand as padre de pamilya at such a young age. Sometimes, his daughter would get home late in the evening, and he feared for her because she had to walk through dark paths to reach "home."

Fast forward to that night where he took me as a passenger, Manong said that he felt he was much better. Yes, the pieces of the bullet are probably there in his thighs, but he could move already. That's why he decided to head back to Manila to see if he could earn a little. He talked to a kumpare who was also a taxi driver, and asked if he could be a take the cab for the night.

The following morning, he said he would go back to Pampanga to check on his family. I told him to go to PCSO or to PGH to get his bullet wound treated. Surely, there could be something done to help him. A man who seemed to be kind-hearted just didn't deserve that.

When I finally reached my destination, I handed Manong a little extra. He refused earnestly, but I told him to just take the money. It won't be enough for him to get surgery, but I thought it would be enough to get him to Pampanga and back to Manila for his visit to the hospital or PCSO.

I dunno if Manong was telling the truth or if he was just a good storyteller. I know, I know. I'm bad to think that of him. But you can't blame me. When you're 30, and you've been living in crazy Manila for so long, you sometimes lose faith in the good of people.

But I think he was really telling the truth. I just had to believe that he was. When I got out of the cab, I wasn't even able to get the name of the cab nor Manong's name. As much as I really want to help him, there's not much I can do. In fact, it was him who somehow "helped" me. Surely, there is a lesson on fatherhood from that brief conversation.

It's been a while since I heard a sob story like this. A story told straight from the horse's mouth. I wondered if the universe was telling me something about fatherhood. That it's difficult? That it's a huge responsibility? That to be a father means putting your family ahead of you? I'm not sure. I really just hope everything will turn out well for him and his family.