Before the show could begin, a number of preliminary actions had to be dispensed with. First, we had to stand to sing the national anthem. I knew all the words and sang loudly, much to the amusement of Tonio, who was in the seat beside mine. Next, we had to pray, which I did solemnly. Next, we had to see who of merit was in attendance: a cabinet member, a judge, and the minister of education, who stood as their names were called, waving around with pageant-queen smiles.

“Laird should really be here,” said Tonio, “to meet the minister of education.”

“Why would Laird meet the minister of education?” I asked.

“Isn’t he the type who likes to meet people?”

I supposed that this was true. Finally, the lights went down and with a swelling of music, the actors made their way onto the stage. My Tagalog was not really up to the task of following all the action. I spent the first act wondering who that guy always onstage with Juan Luna was supposed to be, then figured out—through some miracle of osmotic comprehension—that he was also Juan Luna: there was good Juan, the one who painted and loved art, and bad Juan, the one who killed people. My tita Dom, flanked on one side by Ali and her friends, made it to the start of the second act and then, despite the volume of the singing, fell asleep. Beside her was the empty seat, saved for Laird, who had failed to make an appearance. When the lights came back up and she startled awake, her first action was to check that empty space.

On the way home, the cars plowed along, tires half submerged in the road that was now a river. Tita Dom kept apologizing to Mannie, who kept saying it was okay, but we were all nervous that the engine would quit and we would get stranded.

All around us, people were trying to find their way home. A tricycle driver in a garbage bag poncho pushed his vehicle up the street. Women under disintegrating umbrellas took delicate steps through the ankle-deep water. The light was fractured and then smeared into streaks on the windshield: with each beat of the wipers, there was a moment of clarity that was quickly obscured by rain.

Tita Dom dug around in her purse and found a bag of Choc Nut, which she opened and passed to Luke. “I wonder why Laird didn’t show up.”

“Did he say he was definitely coming?” I asked.

“Remi said he would join us for sure,” she said. “She said he was on a trip somewhere, but he was getting back around noon. She thought there was plenty of time for him to get to the play.”

“Maybe the typhoon made it hard to travel,” said Tonio, which seemed like a good explanation.