“A centavo for each gray hair,” his mom bargained.

“Okay,” he agreed.

He cajoled his mom into having him pluck gray hairs from her head, initially for two centavos each. He figured that by pulling fifty or so gray hairs, he would earn enough to go see a much anticipated movie and a bag of popcorn at the nearby theater.

The movie being hailed as one of the best, he just couldn’t contain his strong desire to go see it. Having no money for the ticket, plucking his mom’s gray hairs for cash would be a way to go.

He always loved to go see movies. The fact that the city’s nine movie theaters were within walking distance, following his passion was easy. And, being allowed to watch as many screenings of the same movie on the same day enhanced that compelling feeling.

To him, an ideal movie day was catching the first screening and staying through the last one for the day. He would have all the scenes memorized, including the dialogues, by the time the National Anthem was played to end the day’s screenings. For sustenance, he would either bring something to eat or get snacks from the theater’s concession stand or from the nearby street food vendors during intermission or when a scene was insignificant.

Seeing movies was not only a hobby. It was also a good reason to play hooky. He was always careful when leaving the theater early so that no classmate would see him, the school being nearby. The small crack in the wall of one theater served as a convenient peephole to check whether it was all clear. The only problem was waking up in the morning of the next school day with an apprehension or an anxiety-induced fever, wondering whether there would be a pop quiz on lessons the day before and/or how to explain his tardiness. Nonetheless, a Disney or a blockbuster Biblical fare from Hollywood was something he looked forward to on another hooky day.

His mom already sitting comfortably in a chair, he pulled one for himself and sat close to her.

With tweezers in hand, he started searching for gray hairs, a small empty container right next to him.

“Wow! Here’s one!” he exclaimed as he gently plucked it.

“Good for you,” murmured his mom.

“Oh, another one!”

“Uh-huh!”

The exchange between them continued until he couldn’t find anymore gray hairs to pull.

“Two more, please,” he whispered as he counted the gray hairs in the container, his mom quiet as a mouse.

As he proceeded to repart her hair in search of more gray ones, he noticed that his mom’s head was getting heavier, nodding freely, and now slowly leaning against the top of the back of the chair.

“Mom! Mom! Wake up!”

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned. Her head jerked up a bit and after a short swaying motion, it leaned back.

“I am almost done, Mom!” he exclaimed while shaking her. “I need to catch the next screening of the movie!”

Her mom did not wake up. In fact, her snoring became more sonorous now.

Upset, he started plucking hair, gray or not, leaving small bald spots.

He stood up and left, grumbling.

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*Centavo (0.01) was the smallest currency in the Philippines at that time.