Expectations

by Luke Yves Abad

I feel hands press on my back as I’m almost violently thrust into a sea of my family members, while someone squeezes past them. My sister takes a glance back around, gives me a smirk, then continues along. I sigh a breath of disappointment and continue to walk forward all the while letting the rest of my family walk ahead. “I’ll just give them and her some space…” I think to myself, “…it’s better that way. I wonder if my sister treated anyone else that way, or if my family would even care.”

All of us are gathering in the Great Hall, an elaborately decorated chamber. Every detail from the ceiling to the floor is meticulously thought upon, as if alluding to the very purpose of this gathering. We start to group ourselves, keeping our distance from the carpet lying in the center of the room, stretching from one end of the chamber to the other. Familiar footsteps are approaching, and I remain silent as I watch others whisper and murmur.

My grandmother gracefully enters the Great Hall and begins to walk down the carpet. She displays a fixed expression and calm demeanor. She approaches the podium at the end of the carpet and positions herself behind it, facing all of us. The ceremony begins.

The ceremony begins with the usual introductions and the exchange of pleasantries. Then, it leads into the true purpose of the ceremony; to nominate and choose the next Head of my family. The leader that “embodies the qualities and values of what we represent” my grandmother definitively states. Several people react with excitement, while others simply grin and stand confidently, waiting for their name to be called. I was none of these. I simply stand up straight, with a neutral look on my face, hands pressed together at my sides, anticipating.

“Which is why I am proud to announce…” my grandmother continued, “that I nominate Leo Hanolo as the next Head of House Hanolo.” Everyone, gasps in shock. They converse with each other and turn their heads to observe me. A sense of fear slowly tightens its grip on my chest, squeezing the very air out of it. The pulling weight becomes so heavy, it anchors me down to the floor, in complete immobility. My eyes could only watch as a witness to the emotions on the faces of my family.

My family takes holds of my hands, and they pull me closer to my impending doom. The spoken words of my grandmother still hold me down, causing my steps to falter along the way. “Leo…” I heard a voice call. A blurry face approaches me, and their two hands softly press against my cheeks. Only then was I able to recognize the face of my grandmother “…out of all the people in this room, you were the only one to let others walk ahead, to remain silent and be observant, and to stand straight, expecting nothing. My dear grandson, you embody our expectations.”

Note: The author would like to thank Patricia Dover-Bedwell.