“Juan! Juan!” An old man’s voice drifted across the river. The old man was getting down from a narrow path. 

Liam stirred. Whose calling? His ears and brows twitched. The banca boat rocked gently beneath him as his back lay on a khaki cotton blanket placed on the wooden floor, hull creaking with every lazy swell. 

Again, the old man called his name. Liam’s eyelids felt heavy, and the warmth of the midday sun clung to his skin. Why is it too bright? He tried to cover his eyes with his left arm. Weren’t I inside a room, and was it nighttime, he thought, still thinking he was in a dream. 

He drew a slow breath. The cool breeze carried the earthy scent of the river―damp soil, fresh water, and reeds swaying somewhere beyond his closed eyes. It wasn't the familiar smell of a bedroom. It was open, wild, and alive. His eyes jolted. He sat up. 

Where the hell am I? His heart thumped. His eyes wandered as the river stretched wide and glassy, reflecting an endless sky brushed with pale gold. Thick bamboo bowed over the banks, their leaves sending hushed whispers. Towering acacia and narra trees stood like silent guardians, while clusters of nipa palms leaned toward the water’s edge. 

“JUAN! Bumangon ka na riyan! (Juan, wake up!)” The old man shouted, standing beneath the acacia tree. It was an unfamiliar dialect in Liam’s hearing. He winced. 

What the hell is he talking about? He was talking in a language I did not understand, he thought. Then, a sudden ringing pierced his ears. 

He groaned, clutching them as a flood of flickering memories battered his mind like frames from an old, worn film. The old man nearby frowned when Liam, now Juan, didn't respond. He hurried over, his heart tightening at the sight of his grandson writhing in pain. 

"Juan! Juan! What's wrong?" He said, his gruff, weathered voice carrying both urgency and affection, the kind earned through decades of hard work and quiet endurance. 

As the shrill ringing slowly faded, the old man's voice emerged from the haze. Liam could finally understand his words—each one heavy with fear and concern. 

“What’s wrong? You were fine this morning. I’ll ask the head of the house to give us some medicine,” He said, looking concerned. Liam looked at him, trying to comprehend such a past. He remembered this old man. He was his grandfather, from his father’s side, who took him in after being abandoned by her mother after his father died from an accident. 

“I’m fine. I must have woken up so suddenly that I felt dizzy for a moment,” Liam said. His eyes widened in disbelief, thinking that he could speak their language. 

But seeing his grandfather’s wrinkled, dirtied hands, he couldn’t stop worrying. This old man gave him a warmth he had never received from his own parents back home. Maybe this was just a dream from a deep sleep, he told himself. Once this dream is over, I’ll be back in a reality where only Anton is by my side. So he held the old man’s hand as his grandfather was surprised by his sudden softness.

“Grandfather, aren’t you tired of working too hard with the Montemayor?” Liam (Juan) said. He couldn’t express his emotions; he felt utterly disappointed with himself. “You’re far too old to work on the farm, and you also have to look after their garden at the mansion, even though they have more people working there. I just don’t understand, and I’m worried.” He added, meeting his grandfather’s face etched with time; his grandfather smiled with ease and warmth. 

“I’m still capable of working and healthy despite my age. If that means we could support each other, living together. I can endure everything to give you a good life.” The old man said. Juan was tongue-tied. All he could do was listen as he clenched his fists. Even though this was only a dream, the emotions swelling inside him felt startlingly real. 

“I know it has been tough for you, but I’m glad to hear that you worry about me, Juan,” his grandfather added with a smile tugging at his face. The breeze moved lazily along the riverbank. 

Hidden among the branches, birds chirped softly, their songs muted by the thick foliage and the whisper of the wind. 

“Now, hurry up, before the mayordoma gets angry. You have to bring that sack of coconuts you harvested in the mansion for tonight’s party.” Liam’s grandfather said. They looked at the coarse burlap sack bulging with coconuts that lay beside the banca, swaying gently with the river's current. 

A cool breeze drifted in from the river, weaving through the trees and setting their leaves into a gentle rustle. 

Staring in disbelief, Liam asked himself how in the world he had managed to climb the coconut tree. He was baffled. He never once climbed any tree back home, and here, he was doing this hard work to earn what? Just a few harvested crops? Not even a penny was given to them. Even now, he could feel his stomach growling from hunger. 

His grandfather looked puzzled as to why his grandson was acting strangely just after taking a short nap.

“Let’s go back together. Manang Teresita had left you some sweet potatoes. So after you deliver those sacks of coconut to the mansion, go to her house and have some food before you go back to the farm and help,” his grandfather said, grinning tenderly. Still, his weary eyes expressed concern over his only grandson. 

To Liam, everything felt unreal—but when reality struck him, he was left deeply speechless.