62 pages • 2 hours read
Randy RibayA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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The following morning, the missing packet of letters causes Jay to recall what he remembers of Jun. He remembers his cousin’s precocious intelligence and surprising insights, and how Jun, in his letters, was surprisingly deep for a kid of 10 or 11. Jay reflects, “Jun asked me if I liked my family. He asked me what I found beautiful. He asked me if I believed what the Bible said and what priests said during Mass” (102). With the house to himself, Jay decides to sneak into his uncle’s office, certain that the housekeeper took the letters and gave them to Maning. At his uncle’s massive desk, however, Jay does not find any evidence of the letters. But in a drawer he finds a list of names, among them Jun’s. Because the notes are in Tagalog, Jay does not know what the list means. He takes a picture of the list with his phone. He is certain his uncle was involved in Jun’s death.
Later that morning, Maning dispatches Grace to show Jay Manila’s historical and cultural sites. With the family’s chauffeur driving the SUV, the two explore Manila’s bustling business district, with its finely manicured public gardens and tidy streets. Without explanation, Grace directs the chauffeur to one of the city’s largest malls. There they meet sisters Mia and Jessa; Mia is older, while Jessa is about Grace’s age. Jay is immediately fascinated by Mia. Jessa, he finds out, is Grace’s partner of five months, a relationship that Grace hides from her conservative Catholic parents. While Jessa and Grace go off, Jay and Mia walk the massive mall together. They visit an aquarium where they watch a tank of jellyfish before heading to the mall’s ice-skating rink.
Jay finds out that Mia is studying journalism and is involved in the underground student movement opposed to the Duterte regime’s strong-arm tactics and blatant human rights violations. Her involvement runs great risk. Jay is impressed by Mia’s fortitude and diligence. He struggles to explain his own indifference to going to college and his lack of even a field of interest to study. Cautiously, Jay asks about Jun. Mia did not know that Grace even had a brother. Jay shares with Mia what he knows about Jun’s death. The investigative reporter in Mia is intrigued. Jay shares his photo of his uncle’s list. She translates the notations. Someone is informing Maning that they have located his son and are awaiting his instructions. The translation is chilling for Jay, who is certain Maning ordered the execution of his own drug-addicted son. Mia agrees to help Jay in his investigation. That night at dinner, Grace tells the family an elaborate lie about all the historical and cultural places they visited. Jay says nothing. He resists asking his uncle about Jun’s death. That night, Jay dreams that he is visited by Jun’s bullet-ridden ghost. Stunned, terrified, he asks the specter, “What happened to you?” (139).
The next morning, Sunday, the family goes to church. Jay, although impressed by the elaborate cathedral, is indifferent to the service. He falls asleep. On the drive back, the SUV passes the president’s palace, and Maning expounds on the promise of the new president. To help his nephew’s cultural education, Maning takes the family to the National Museums of the Philippines. In each museum Jay is told about the glory of the Filipino people and their centuries-long struggle against foreign occupation.
As Maning and Jay study a massive painting that depicts piles of dead Roman gladiators in the national art museum, Jay musters the courage to ask his uncle what happened to Jun. Jay says he was told that Jun was a drug addict and was killed by government police squads. Maning mocks Jay’s smug judgmentalism. Jay, he says, has read a few internet articles but has no idea what the nation faces with the drug problem and that drastic action was needed to save the country. Maning confirms that Jun used drugs, which was why he kicked his son out four years earlier. Recalling that he found drug paraphernalia in Jun’s room, Maning says, “We all make choices and we must deal with the consequences” (158). Emboldened, Jay asks why Maning took Jun’s letters from his backpack. Maning denies any involvement and finds the accusation disrespectful. He coldly tells Jay he must leave today and go to his aunts’ house.
The next day, Jay is driven to his aunts’ home. Chato and Ines are in a committed relationship. Although Filipino law prevents them from marrying legally, they are life partners, an arrangement that has made them outcasts from the family. The two are lawyers who work for a human rights organization committed to protecting the rights of the poor. They tell a stunned Jay that his own parents are among the foundation’s most generous donors. Jay finds his aunts hospitable, their home inviting and warm (literally, they have no air conditioning). The two are open and funny, a welcome break from the rigid and regimented atmosphere at his uncle’s home. This was where Jun came when Maning kicked him out for using drugs. Jay finds out that during Jun’s stay, he became involved in the underground movement, driven by social media, that opposed the Duterte regime. His aunts are not sure what Maning’s list means but caution Jay to trust no one. His aunts give Jay a box of things Jun left behind, among them a collection of poems by American feminist and human rights activist Audre Lorde (1934-1992). One of them hits Jay like a “typhoon” (180). “A Litany for Survival” tells about the struggle for identity and social misfits’ and marginalized minorities’ right to the dignity of selfhood. In the book of poems, Jay finds a business card for a small neighborhood bookshop. Intrigued, he calls Mia to see if she knows anything about the shop.
The following morning, Jay wanders through his aunts’ modest home. Unlike his uncle’s palatial mansion, the walls are decorated with framed family photos, most notably one of Jun and Jay on a basketball court. Unexpectedly, Mia shows up at the door. She is impressed that Jay confronted his uncle, that he rocked the boat. “Silence,” she counsels, “will not save you” (186). Mia then reveals that she called the phone number on the business card. The person who answered did not know Jun was dead and asked who would be running Jun’s website now. Neither Mia nor Jay know anything about any website.
The following day, Mia and Jay head to Jun’s last known residence, which Mia got from the bookstore manager. Because the apartment is in a dangerous neighborhood in metro Manila, Mia arranges for the two of them to meet one of her professors there. The professor explains the extent of the underground movement against the Duterte regime and the risks for those involved in the movement. Long adrift in a world of video games and lazy afternoon joints, Jay feels now part of something important. He admits, “[A] part of me is sick of never doing anything of significance” before (195). After following a maze of alleys and backstreets, the three arrive at the apartment. There, Jay meets Reyna, a beautiful young woman who lives in Jun’s old apartment with a small child. The two regard Jay with suspicion and distrust.
This section marks Jay’s difficult middle passage on his way to awareness. At the beginning, he is blinded by arrogant certainty; by the end of the section he is aware he must accept the importance of what he does not know. At the beginning, he plays detective searching for answers; by the end he adjusts to his role as investigative journalist content with asking the right questions.
The section begins with the hokey feel of a murder mystery centered on the stolen packet of letters. As long as that mystery is the focus of Jay’s investigation, Jay can avoid confronting the larger issues involved in his cousin’s death. His sleuthing into his uncle’s office parodies the elements of a classic whodunnit, down to finding the hidden key to unlock the mysterious desk drawer (although his younger cousin actually shows him where the key is kept). Jay expects that evidence will provide clarity, that his investigation will reveal how his cousin died. Motivation will be clarified, and responsibility tidily assigned. The list of names he finds intrigues him. He is certain—though he does not speak the language in which the list’s notations are written—that here is irrefutable evidence that Maning directed Jun’s execution. Even within a first-person narration that creates sympathy for Jay, his conclusion seems a bit premature. Over the course of this section, Jay is indeed introduced to the challenges of genuine investigation, the difficulty in defining certainty, and the problematic, even ironic nature of truth itself.
That education begins with the character of Mia. Jay is initially attracted to Mia’s sexy looks, particularly her tight black jeans. Mia, however, reveals to Jay a world he has never considered. Unlike Jay, with his goofy sleuthing, Mia is committed to investigative journalism. In her work with the underground college movement that uses social media to expose the brutal excesses of the Duterte regime, Mia shows Jay the superficiality of his own life. Drifting vaguely toward a degree in video game design, Jay is impressed by Mia’s dedication to real-world problems, specifically the deaths of thousands of poor and undereducated Filipinos at the hands of the government’s antidrug program.
Unlike video games, where the risks are all theatrical, the risks of Mia’s involvement in the underground movement are real. Mia translates the Tagalog notations on Maning’s list. The message—that someone, most likely in the government police, awaits Maning’s instructions—intrigues Mia because of what it does not say. Unlike Jay, who leaps to simple conclusions, Mia sees that the message is ambiguous. She promises to look into Jun’s story, prepared to go where the investigation leads. In contrast, Jay believes he understands exactly what the message means too prematurely.
Jay’s journey to the Philippines also reveals how little he understands about family. In Michigan, Jay’s relationship with his family is at once comfortable and unexamined. His older siblings are both gone. Day to day, Jay’s family lacks the energy of love and the emotional openness of communication. His family does not fight or bicker, but nor do they talk or share. There is a comfortable near-distance that defines Jay’s concept of family. The interlude with Jay’s aunts, who are happy, loving, and open, reveals the possibility of family despite the obvious complications and challenges that stem from being same-sex partners. Maning, Jay’s conservative Catholic uncle, refuses even to acknowledge his sister’s name. The church condemns same-sex relationships, but this moral authority is undercut by Jay’s visit to the cathedral, where he finds the ceremony dry and detached from the world outside the church’s massive wooden doors.
By contrast, the love between Ines and Chato creates an environment in which Jay feels the love and acceptance of family for the first time. He does not feel like a visitor. Unlike his suburban home in Michigan or the sterile and joyless residence of his uncle, the aunts’ home feels real to him, their welcome unforced and genuine (suggested by the home’s lack of air conditioning). Jay studies the family photographs that line the walls in his aunts’ home (unlike the bare walls at his uncle’s). He lingers over photos of him and his family that are included amid all the Filipino relatives. Jay intuits for the first time the meaning of an extended family.
More than the nature of truth or the power of family, a critical element of this middle section is Jay’s education into the complexity of the Duterte government. The newly installed (and popular) Duterte regime is initially an easy target for vilification and condemnation. Jay learns from Grace and Mia the reality of the extrajudicial killings in the name of bringing the country’s drug abuse epidemic under control. Jay is all too willing to brand the government (and by extension his uncle) as the villain in the narrative of his cousin’s death. Ribay’s novel is interested in encouraging young adults to get involved with real-time, real-world issues, and that involvement demands willingness to look at all sides of controversy. In the museum, Jay is scolded by his uncle, who tells him about the dangerous crisis the nation faces and how the efforts of the Duterte government, while draconian, represent the country’s last, best hope to reestablish law and order. That conviction, Jay begins to see, must not forget the humanity of those who turn to drugs in desperation. That awareness prepares Jay for the tectonic impact of the Lorde poem and its powerful argument that the marginalized, the misfits, the forgotten deserve a voice.
At the end of this middle section, Jay understands the need to be inquisitive, the need to take risks, the need to embrace the support of family, and most importantly, the need to be informed. As he joins Mia to track down Jun’s last known address, Jay ventures into the dangerous, overcrowded Manila slums that he was previously driven through in air-conditioned comfort. His middle passage done, Jay is now positioned to complete his education and come of age.