About it: Patterned from an artwork, Fit Not Right is a fictional, short story that may reveal something about society. This I dedicate to my professor in English and classmates. We were told to pick up a scene in a daily-lfe-landscape artwork/comic strip featuring a busy airport. I hope you would like it. It is entitled fit not right.

Mr. Terazo is a workaholic businessman who is off to Legaspi City for a confidential meeting with one of his close clients. He brings with him his secretary, Mr. Flores, an old friend way back college who was caught up in a delay after choosing the wrong degree, and hardly waited for another 3 years to finish the course. Nursing was his first, but he ended up taking Business Administration due to a saddening realization that Biology was not meant for him. After all, it was not his dream to go abroad, nor cure the sick.

A week before, Mr. Terazo thought of visiting Mrs. Diway, a successful entrepreneur who has always been his drinking companion at times when his family inflicts financial losses due to crop destruction in the vast 350-hectare land he owns. Liquor has always been his past time partner, and the only reason to cause him a sudden gain of weight at the age of 22. Until then, had he not forgotten to pay her a visit. She always welcomed him even if she has already worn that gold-plated, circular symbol that every woman waits to have.

On the day of departure, he wears blue under, one of the slacks he bought two years ago on a trip to Paris, and a dim-red polo shirt that he received from his secretary last Christmas. Mr. Flores was a benevolent and understanding man, who would always listen to his grievances. The position he was on hold is not a mere effect of what he has done to him. Earning such trust could mean a lot. That is why he got an invitation to an escapade from the Metro with Mr. Terazo.

The wealthy, young man packs up with just a backpack – few pieces of boxer shorts, white sandos/shirts, and socks, a deck of credit cards, an Aficionado perfume and a small prayer book. He eventually leaves his flat, gets inside the car, and presses down the accelerator. He then drives towards the Manila Hotel to fetch Mr. Flores.
On his way, he reminisces all those opportunities he had let go of. During his first few years in Colegio de San Juan de Letran, he was invited to study in Baguio’s St. Louis University but he turned down the offer. At that time, staying in Manila was a good choice for he could do what he likes to do in the busy streets of Manila – go barhopping, stop by Ermita, stroll in Rizal Park, meditate in the windy walks of the Manila Bay, and so on. Other than that, he could return back to his hometown, Capas, Tarlac every Saturdays to go check the hacienda. He used to stay there to provide the necessities of the laborers as a fulfillment of the last words spoken to him by his dear lola, Melecia Basquez Terazo, before her last breath. Her death caused him to succumb more into alcohol’s sedative experience. His strong attachment to her made him earn the larger fraction of Hacienda Basquez, which initiated the envy of his sister, Carmela.

By land area, Carmela inherited an eighth of it. Through time, Mr. Terazo got the title Toto from the older sibling’s bash on him, which often served as a tension sparker inside the mansion that seemed derelict in the plains of Capas. The silence was usually interrupted by the sister’s cry of defeat in their bickering, through the shrouded darkness.

But, the iniquitous partition of the heirloom pushed Carmela’s insecurity to its peak, to a point where she committed suicide. From then on, Toto took the responsibility of caressing the few things that were left of him, the soil and its tillers. He promised himself that he would go home at least once a week to suffice the needs of his people. He positioned this visit above all, including the travel time it would cost him. This led him to resist the delight of pursuing college In Baguio City.
An incident brings him back to reality. He is still driving. He witnesses a dialogue between an adolescent Sportage driver and an MMDA officer. The commotion draws back a crowd, causing traffic to build up. He starts to mediate the situation. Soon, he realizes he still has his own business to do so he evades, gets in, buckles up, and fires up the engine.

When he arrives, he finds his companion standing inside the Guests’ Nook carrying two baggages – a black one filled with his favorite suits, and the other one shaded with hues of gray enclosing many reading materials. Mr. Flores has turned into a book buff upon compulsion to Politics about 5 years ago when he met Mr. Terazo in an exclusive gathering. He waits there excitedly. It is his first time to escape from the premises of urbanization. The smirk on his face seems eternal.

Mr. Terazo approaches him. He apologizes for his late arrival, and tells him to get inside the car. His companion does so, and they both are now off to MIA. In the car, he tells him what just happened while he was on the road a few minutes earlier. The latter keeps on listening and giggling as if to take the matter lightly and off the point.

Upon reaching their destination, they both unload their effects, and place them on the Baggage Inspection Area. People are all over the place. Some have just arrived, while others are waiting in line. Mr. Flores views the scene, and deduces how the staff does their jobs. He relates the check-in process to the concept of bureaucratic red tape. He sees people fill out unnecessary paperwork, fall in line for some to approve a decision, and observe a number of low-level rules. This, for him, is the sickness of society. Political philosophy can no longer provide band aid solutions to the scar that aggravated for time due to man’s negligence.

After inspection, they check their belongings in, and then proceed to the Pre-Departure Area. When they get in there, Mr. Flores becomes overwhelmed by a man-sized frame. He wonders what it is, and realizes that it is a security metal detector. With much pleasure, he quickly runs towards it, and passes through it in upwelling satisfaction. Mr. Terazo runs after him, but before he stops, he crashes into the device fitly.

He is trapped. Mr. Flores pushes him to take him out of the way, but nothing happens. Mr. Terazo could barely move his feet, but his waist is tightly gripped by the sensors. Mr. Flores tries to pull him back, but the persistent force causes him to shriek. The stuck, plump man utters that his lower rib is hardly hit on something. It hurts. He is injured. His accompanying man tries one more time, but he would only yell to pain.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Diway dials on her phone to check on Mr. Terazo before he leaves. The call is answered. But all she could here is a cacophony of sounds, like faint screams and yelps roaming at a distance.
After an hour, the plane leaves. And the meeting is cancelled. But what happened to Mr. Terazo? A new story begins.