The Boy, the Lad, the Young Man, and the Mountain(Vince Neil J. Tabiano) When the boy was six years old, he started wondering why the mountain kept following them.

It was one of those days that this little boy was seated with his guardian in a car, going home from another home. He had two homes: his father’s and mother’s. They were at least together for maybe seven years after their marriage, and the boy was well aware of the situation his parents were in.

He was too intelligent for his age of six, and random ideas would just pop-out of his mind. Once, he claimed to have seen “small people” being broomstick-swept by his grand-mom. His grand-mom was of course not seeing them; only the boy was. They were screaming in pain and begging for help, but the boy could do nothing. He was still very young, and he was not yet aware of mythological creatures that many people believe are existing.

Cartoons were his life, and his eyes would always be glued on the TV in his room for almost the whole day everyday. Of course he entered school, and he was the top pupil of his class. He was quiet – just sitting on his chair, silently absorbing the things being told by his teacher. He believed every single thing his teacher told him – and when his guardians would contradict what his teacher said, he would still believe his teacher at the end of the day. That’s how powerful teachers are, but sometimes, when teachers say the wrong things, a child can be at risk of false information – and he/she can believe it until of the right age or when further enlightened.

He memorized every national flag there is in the world; thanks to the bulky encyclopedia he loved to “read”. (Of course he could still not understand everything the encyclopedia has in content, but pictures made understanding easy for him. He was a visual learner, after all.)

***

“So why is the mountain following us then?” he asked his guardian.

“It’s not following us, of course. It’s just wide, that’s why it seems like it’s following us.”

What his guardian said in reply made the boy wonder even more. Wide? It follows us in the car just because it’s wide? He could not understand the explanation then, but he just kept quiet. Maybe I should ask my teacher, he considered. Maybe my teacher would know why.

Admit it or not, it is quite hard for grown-ups to explain things to children – but the fun thing about that is the juvenile hunger for knowledge that they have (or simply put: their curiosity about the things around them).

He had a lot of questions in mind:

Why does the electric fan produce this weird-but-cool sound when I speak to it?

Why does the fridge turn off its lights when I close it?

Why are my parents fighting?

The boy could not answer the questions in his mind because everything around him seemed to be too complicated for a child like him to understand. Though wondering why the electric fan does weird things, he still did enjoy hearing the robotic sound it produces. He could not figure out why the fridge has to turn-off its lights when he closes it, but still, he enjoyed playing with it – and that once made his grand-dad angry at him. He tried his best not to be affected by what his parents were going through, but children are vulnerable – and so was he. His eyes, at a young age, were already witnessing things that he shouldn’t be seeing, but life was a bit cruel to him.

***

When the boy turned 13, he started a “new life”. He entered the phase of life which everybody seems to be claiming as the best part of teenage life… except him. (At this point of time, the boy is now a lad, so lad he should be called.)

The lad started a “new life”, but unlike other new beginnings, his was a disaster. He went to a school where he experienced all kinds of disaster. The lad had a few “friends”, but he considered them as lunch-mates only… just for the sake of having people eating with him during lunch. He spent most of his time alone – and when alone, he would be laughed at by his classmates who call themselves students of a Catholic school. He couldn’t quite understand why these closed-minded people never understood him. Do I deserve all your senseless ridicules just because I am being who I am? Am I not breathing the same air that you breathe? If I punch you in the face, will I not feel the same pain that you will feel? Don’t I deserve the freedom to express myself the way I want myself to be expressed? With these questions – or rather, internal monologue – he sounded like Shylock, the Jewish money-lender in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, but for him, he would rather sound like a Jewish money-lender in one of Shakespeare’s plays than be with his classmates who call themselves students of a Catholic school.

The lad never had a really good time in the course of his four years of stay there. He simply took all the pain inside him until that moment when he received his high school diploma. He felt so free after that moment, and while his classmates took photos together, he was there – inside his guardian’s car once again, ready to go home.


The lad, now sixteen years old, was inside his guardian’s car again, trying to forget all the miseries he had for four years. While on the highway away from his prison, he saw the mountain. Nostalgic – the moment was – for about ten years ago, the same thing happened. The lad wondered for the second time: Why is the mountain following us?

He felt like a child again, but he didn’t wish to be one for the second time. His childhood was as miserable as his teenage life, but he survived his childhood – and now that he is already a lad, he is still doing the same: surviving, though it hurts. It’s the only option left for the lad to do. He must remain strong for himself, because nobody would understand the pain he’s going through… not even his parents, nor his guardian.

***

When the lad turned 16, his “new life” started to get worse. (Now that he’s already 16, he is now a young man. So, young man he should be called.)

One day, on his way to school, the young man saw the mountain. For the third time, he wondered: Why is the mountain following me? – and for the first time, he asked himself: Why do I even wonder why the mountain is following me?

Looking at the mountain from the window of his guardian’s car, the young man started remembering all the memories that his mind was able to immortalize – and they were mostly sad.

He remembered the scene when his mother and father were quarreling and hurting each other. He remembered the scene when his grand-dad almost killed his grand-mother when he pointed a rifle at her.

He remembered the scene when his classmates who call themselves Catholic students made fun of the way he expresses himself. He remembered the scene when he cried in front of his classmates in an open-forum session after they admitted to their teacher that they hated the way the young man acts. He remembered the scene when he was alone in a corner while his classmates took photos together after graduation.

He remembered the scene when the woman his father brought home was allowed by his grand-mom to use his room – while he suffered sleeping on a “bed” outside his own room. He remembered the scene when he saw the woman sleeping with his dad one night, instead of seeing his mom beside his dad. He remembered the scene when he cried inside the comfort room just to release all the pain that’s been stored in his heart for almost his lifetime. He remembered the unforgettable chain of unfortunate events of his life which will take a lifetime to write.

***

The young man, now 19, looked at the mountain one last time.
With tears in his eyes, he said:

This is the last time that I will look at you. After this, no longer will I wonder why you keep on following me. I have to think, starting today, that you are not following me anymore. You’ve been following me for 13 years now, and you’ve caused me a lot of pain. I have to let you go. I have to forget that you ever existed.

But how? You have been with me since I was six. How can I let go of you?
It will take time, but I am sure that one day, I’ll be ready to let you go.

With these words, the young man dried his tears… and with a light heart, closed his eyes and smiled.

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