He built a school beside his house. She would be the teacher, the secretary, the janitress, and the administrator. But between the classroom walls and the family dinner table, she discovered that the hardest subject to master was not law — it was living under someone else's roof.
As always, I told Mitch what happened during the day when he picked me up. I had told him earlier that the school was considering hiring me as a regular teacher. I had also mentioned that a student — an architect — invited me for coffee after class, which I refused. He also knew that one of the staff at the company where I taught Business English asked if I was interested in working there.
The next time we were heading home from my class, he had another grand proposal. He said he was already tired of picking me up and had thought of putting up an English school where I could work. He would register it as part of his company — making him both my employer and guarantor in Japan. The school would be built beside his house, where the garden was, on a lot twice the size of his neighbors'. I was not excited about the idea, because moving out of the mansion and into his place was part of the plan. After my experience with his daughters, I was not sure we could get along. But I agreed. I would quit my work at the company and keep my positions at the downtown school and at Bob's World until the new one became operational.This is a pivotal moment. She trades independence — multiple jobs, her own apartment — for security under Mitch's roof and company. The trade comes with a cost she does not yet fully understand.
Meanwhile, I attended the Law Department Dean's class. It seemed to be the most popular — there were many students taking it. I was active during discussions, and the Dean knew my name as one of the few foreign students. I had no idea if he remembered our encounter at the elevator, but I believe he would not forget what I did that day.
He told the class that he had heard there was a stalker among the students in the department. He talked about how inappropriate such behavior was, and the students were with him. Everyone was condemning the act. But I thought of Noel. Although it was unlikely, he could have been the stalker the Dean was talking about. If it was him, I wanted to defend him.
I raised my hand and the Dean gave me the floor. I talked about the possible reasons why a person stalks another — and spoke from personal knowledge. Sometimes, I said, it is the woman's fault that a man becomes a stalker. When a man enters a serious relationship but is deprived of a proper closure, just like women, he could become confused and seek answers to his questions, becoming a stalker in the process. "I'm afraid only those who have fallen in love could truly understand what I am talking about," I ended.
Mitch never seemed to run out of surprises. He came to the mansion one afternoon with money — a refund from the school after cancelling his trip to Canada. He did not get all of it back but was glad to have settled the matter.
I never had money in the bank without knowing where to use it before it even got deposited. I had been living a lifestyle I never imagined, and I wanted to share my success with my family — especially my children. But Mitch had already spent too much for me in a short time, and I did not want him to think I was abusing his kindness. After hesitantly giving a simple hint about my wish, he said I could go meet them — and might as well look for a lawyer for the annulment of my marriage. He thought it would be better if I started working on it soon.
It was the end of October — less than six months after I used my one-way airplane ticket to Japan — and I was already back in the Philippines with exciting stories for my family. I had called and asked them to come to Manila at Vilma's place with my children. We were going to have a family reunion.
With drinks and food on the table, my father, brothers, and brothers-in-law were singing along to the karaoke outside the house. My mother, sisters, and my children were in the living room watching them. They had already heard my story, and I had promised my children to take them to Japan sometime. Everyone looked happy.
I wanted to share the moment with Mitch. I called him, saying how grateful I was for everything he had done for me. I had tears of joy and wanted to tell him, but I could not recall the Japanese word for cry. I just said that the water was coming out from my eyes, and we had a good laugh.
Before the school opened, we decided to travel to Singapore to buy English books for the classes and then visit Malaysia and Thailand. We went with Mr. Sugawara, a professional taxi driver and one of Mitch's oldest friends. Shopping for books was exciting — I would just put whatever I wanted into the cart. Mitch was going to pay with his credit card and ship them to Japan by air mail. But I chose too much and the bill was enormous. It was clearly my mistake that he got angry.
We then went to Malaysia and visited the Petronas Towers — then the tallest building in the world. From there, we flew to Thailand and stayed in a hotel overlooking a pool. It reminded me of my early experiences in Japan which Mitch knew about. He dared me to try swimming now, saying nobody would care what I looked like in a swimsuit. With a slimmer body and cleaner skin, I had a little confidence. We bought a one-piece swimsuit at the hotel lobby and I got into the pool with the other tourists — mostly foreigners. I was even able to sit on a long bench and have my picture taken by Mitch. It was such an experience.
The following day, we transferred to the countryside. We went rafting on the river, rode a cart pulled by white cows through the natural beauty of the place, and climbed on an elephant together. At night, we joined the crowd at an evening market — performers on stage, small booths selling food. We bought some barbecue and ate while walking. But back at the hotel, I began to feel stomach pain. I threw up several times and had diarrhea. By the next morning, I was too weak to get in the car but managed with Mitch's support. Mr. Sugawara had the same experience, though milder. They visited a village where women wore long neckbands while I stayed in the car. I only saw them in pictures.
Back in Japan, the construction of the school began. The company Mitch hired belonged to a friend, so aside from generous discounts, I was able to comfortably request my own design and discuss every detail. The building would have two classrooms — one small room for adults, another twice as big for children — and a private room I specifically added for myself. I wanted a place where I could spend time alone. I was going to be the teacher, the secretary, the janitress, and the administrator. That was made clear from the beginning. We did not want to hire anyone else so that I could take a higher income.
Mitch introduced me to people in his circle — his veterinarian-turned-politician friend, who held office at the Prefectural Office, and a monk priest and his family. The monk told me I was "too good for Mitch," but I only understood what he meant after we left and asked Mitch to explain.
When the school was finished, I moved out of the mansion and brought all my things to Mitch's place. The bed, cabinet, study table, and bookshelf went into my private room at the school. I put the small television in the corner, the flowery carpet on the floor. This was my world within his world.
There were days when I would stay at Mitch's house while he attended to business. His elder daughter Akie and I would be alone — she on the second floor, I downstairs in Mitch's room. One day, I was waiting for him by the glass door when Akie came down and asked what I was doing. When I told her I was waiting for Mitch, she said she would call him. She entered his room and closed the door. When she came out, she said Mitch ordered me to wait. "Matte yo," te. It was not a request — it was an order.
I wondered what she had told him. When he came home, he scolded me for making Akie call him and for not being able to wait. If she could twist a simple thing to make Mitch that angry, what else could she do? I became worried about his money. Mitch never used a wallet. He would leave his cash in his pockets after taking off his clothes at night. I could only hope she would not go as far as I feared. His younger daughter never said anything against me directly — the only thing she did to show disapproval was to stand behind her sister, literally.
Having had too much disgust for me, perhaps, Akie confronted Mitch one day. She asked why he was helping me to the point of building a school, spending all that money. She was clearly upset. But Mitch told her she should not worry — everything he was doing was for her. She might not understand it now, but she would later on, he said.
I was speechless. But I decided to dismiss my worries. His intention for helping me might be for Akie's sake, but he would eventually learn to love me, I told myself. We had a whirlwind relationship, so it was understandable that he could be swayed by his daughter. And I could not walk away from the opportunity he had planned to offer me. I chose to trust him instead of taking the other options available when I met him. I strongly believed he would be the instrument for me to keep my promise — to help the poor once God took me out of my miserable life with Marlon. And suffering was an implied part of the deal.
I had just moved in when a shocking — but not totally unexpected — incident happened. It was payday. Mitch had just come home from the bank with a lot of money. He was in his room putting each employee's salary into an envelope. Akie and I sat across from him, watching. Then someone came to the door calling. Akie did not move, so Mitch did. But when he was already at the entrance — where he could no longer see us — he called Akie's name and asked her to keep her eyes on the money.The implication is unmistakable: Mitch trusts his daughter to guard the money against the woman sitting beside her. She hears what he does not say.
I did not wait for him to come back. I left the room and spent the rest of the day in my room at the school, crying. How could he be so insensitive? And what made him think I would steal his money? The day ended without us talking about what happened. It did not matter, because I would still stay anyway. I was willing to take the pain and pretend that nothing happened. He was very kind to me on many other occasions, and that should be enough to complement his occasional rudeness.
After we returned from the trip, I prepared the school for the opening. Mitch and I bought furniture, and I decorated the walls to make the place look like a classroom. When I was done, I invited Mitch to see my work — but he brought Akie with him. He was praising everything while inside, and so was she. They left and went to his room, where I followed later. Akie left when I entered.
I wanted to hear more from Mitch about my work. But I was shocked by what he said. He told me I should have been more careful if the school were mine — that I should not have used pins on the walls. Again, he was reminding me of my status. I never thought he would care about those pins. Unless, of course, his daughter made him.
Mitch's friends came to support the opening. The politician came when the construction had just started and was back to help us make billboards — it seemed to be his craft. Mr. Sugawara brought new wall clocks, perfect for classrooms — large enough to read from any seat and silent, with no ticking sound. There was a ceremony attended by close friends, and we prepared food and orchid plants as souvenirs.
Parents came to inquire after the pamphlets were distributed. Some enrolled their children immediately, and a few paid six months in advance because we offered a discount. Because Akie offered to help — though she did not say exactly how — she was given a duplicate key to the door and the steel cabinet where receipts and cash were kept.
There was no problem with the arrangement until I discovered that some parents had come to pay for six months but the money was missing. I waited for Mitch to ask Akie where it was. She said she took it — because Mitch had said everything was for her, and so the school was built for her, too. She gave the money back, but not without a fight. She said she did not want to live with me in the house. In response, Mitch asked her to tell him what he should do. Running out of words, she went upstairs to her room.
The school earned a good reputation in the area. I had many students — kindergarten through adult. I would go to the university in the morning, then hold classes from afternoon until evening. Mitch would drive me to the university and pick me up from the station when I came back. He would sometimes take me to a public bath to relax while he played Pachinko at a nearby shop. I joined him sometimes — it was fun in the beginning because I won the first few times I tried.
Despite Akie's apparent attempts to annoy me — she made sure I noticed her coming home with her shopping bags while I was teaching — I was inspired to work. Through my family, I had already started helping the poor in my province. I bought some pigs and had them raised by those who needed extra income. They were only required to return a female piglet from their first litter. My family would also pack groceries and look for houses without electricity in places far from our village, because I preferred giving to people who did not personally know us. They would tell the beneficiaries that it was a gift from God.
He let me take my children to Japan for a two-week vacation. Through his support, they had a great time at Tokyo Disneyland and experienced things I never did as a child. They enjoyed cherry picking and could not wait to eat the fish they caught themselves at a pond by the restaurant. Those were the moments that made everything else bearable.
There were times when reality sank in and I had to pacify my emotions alone in my room. Mitch was always outside — working or playing Pachinko. He would come home late, his mood determined by how the gambling had gone, and spend hours reading and watching television until after midnight. We would sleep on the same bed, but he would rarely touch me anymore. There were times when I would initiate, but he would say he was tired. He had already done so much for me in other ways.
I also had our family house construction continued. It had never been improved since it was built with the small amount from a loan just after I graduated from college. But the project was costing me far more than its small size and simple design would suggest. My mother handled the money and the payments, and she would get angry when I complained about their inability to finish despite the amounts I had sent. I did not want to upset her — my children were with them, for one reason — so I would just give her what she asked.
I wished my family could be more sensitive, but they knew nothing about my situation, and I had no intention of telling them. I wanted them to believe that everything was alright with me, even if it was not.
The school Mitch built was not a gift. It was a contract — unspoken, unsigned, but understood. She would work. He would provide. His daughter would resist. And she would endure. What made this arrangement survivable was the same stubbornness that once carried her through her father's drills, Marlon's silences, and Noel's departure: the belief that suffering was temporary and purpose was permanent. She sent money to her children, bought pigs for the poor, and packed groceries for strangers while her own status in that house remained uncertain. When Mitch told Akie everything was for her, he may have been managing his daughter. But she heard what he said — and chose to stay anyway, not because she believed him, but because she believed in what she was doing.