“I’m on the laptop, Inay. Bill and Topher are in the recreation room. I’ll take you to them,” Selena said, carrying the laptop with her.

“Say hello to Lolo and Lola,” Selena told her son as she approached him.

“What are you playing?” Emily asked her grandson.

“Hello, Lolo and Lola! Dad and I are playing with the Thomas and Friends set, and we have these HUGE railways!” Topher said excitedly, showing his grandparents the setup.

“Mom and Dad, I’m happy to see you both looking so well and healthy,” Bill, Selena’s husband, said warmly to his in-laws.

“By God’s grace, we are doing great,” Al replied.

My nose will bleed speaking English to the Kennedys, Ronald thought to himself, waving awkwardly from the kitchen door in the background.

From the Philippines, Southeast Asia in the East, across the North Atlantic Ocean to the United States in North America in the West…

Austin City, Texas.

Carlisle Worthington, a biracial African-American in his late 20s, had short curly black hair, striking green eyes, and a handsome, physically fit frame. He stood tall and was dressed in a butler’s tuxedo, complete with white gloves and black leather shoes.

At the moment, he was driving his ward, a boy, to school in a sleek sedan. They arrived at a Renaissance Revival school, and Carlisle opened the door for the boy.

Topher stepped out, wearing a burgundy cotton waistcoat, cream sleeveless vest, scarlet-and-gold tie over a plain white long-sleeved polo, khaki pants, and brown leather shoes—a preppy school uniform.

“Goodbye, Carlisle. I’m off to school now,” Topher said, waving.

“Take care, Bud. I’m on my way,” Carlisle smiled, giving a salute.

A sprawling estate with brick fences had two gates: one in the north and the other in the south, both guarded. The New Classical mansion was simple yet elegant, with white geometric figures and patterns adhering to symmetry, balance, and order. The three-storey mansion covered over ten thousand square feet.

On the third floor, Carlisle inspected a drawer’s surface with his finger, cleaning behind a white maid in her 20s. On the second floor, he moved a sofa so a White Hispanic maid in her 30s could sweep the floor.

On his way down, Carlisle met a Latina maid in her 40s on the ground floor.

“Good day, Mr. Worthington,” Mrs. Montes greeted.

“Same to you as well, Mrs. Montes,” Carlisle replied with a nod.

Outside, an elderly Japanese man tended to the Kennedy family’s gardens. Docile and quiet, he brought his East Asian gardening traditions to the lush greenery. The Zen Garden room was his proudest creation.

The groundsman, a middle-aged white man, was mowing the vast lawn.

The domestic staff wore traditional uniforms inspired by the Victorian era.

In the library, Topher sat by himself with his personal journal. It was hardbound with a lock, and only he had the key to open it. The small book was decorated with an interplay of white, yellow-tinted ivory, and cream, adorned with olive branches and a dove, and the cover read: “My Journal.”

Christopher “Topher” Alexander William Kennedy III was a nine-year-old boy, half white and half Filipino, though his appearance could easily pass for fully Caucasian. He had short, straight brown hair, blue eyes, a sharp nose, thin peach lips, plump rosy cheeks, a lean body, and was tall for his age.

Topher inserted the key, which hung around his neck, into the keyhole, turned it, and unlocked the cover. He began writing with a pen. His journal contained entries spanning the year. You, readers, now have the privilege to peek inside.

Journal Entry #5: The Fifty States

It was late in the morning, and the class’s energy was still high.

Mr. Gibbs, our History and Social Sciences teacher, hung a large map of the United States on the blackboard. Our country looked like a jigsaw puzzle broken into fifty pieces in different colors. I knew those pieces represented the fifty states in the federation.

“Okay, class, here you can see the map of our country: the United States of America. Can someone volunteer to name all fifty states and locate them?” Mr. Gibbs asked.

“I, teacher,” I raised my hand.

Geography is my favorite subject. This was going to be a fun activity, I thought.

I walked toward the board, took the marker from Mr. Gibbs, and started writing the names, one by one. West…California…Midwest…Wisconsin…Northeast…Massachusetts…South…Texas, the state where I live…

“Excellent, let’s give Mr. Kennedy III a round of applause,” Mr. Gibbs said, and soon, everyone was clapping for me.

Sharing my knowledge is the greatest gift of learning, I thought as I smiled brightly.

Later in the day, after school, the soccer game kicked off. Topher, playing forward, moved around the pitch, gripping the ground with his cleats. As he controlled the ball, dribbling between his feet, he ran straight toward the goal.

When an opposing player approached, Topher quickly passed the ball to a teammate. Player No. 11 pulled off a cross, kicking from the sidelines to send the ball to the middle, and Topher regained possession.

With two defenders ahead of him, Topher received assistance from No. 7. He passed the defensive line, and as the goalkeeper braced himself, Topher thought on his feet and scored—the first goal for his team.

“Nice one, captain! That’s a great opener,” No. 4 praised Topher, along with the rest of the team.

“We’ve got this,” Topher said, rallying his team.

In the courtroom, a stern judge spoke, “Atty. Kennedy, the plaintiff is the Internal Revenue Service itself. According to the subpoena sent to your client, Mr. Mendez, the IRS has filed a complaint for non-compliance with tax payments, a clear violation of the Revenue Code.”

Selena Kennedy (née Pangilinan) was a middle-aged woman in her early 40s. She had long, wavy black hair, brown eyes, fair skin, a lean body, and was of average height.

“Your Honor, you’re right. However, Mr. Mendez has already paid his tax, though he was late meeting the deadline. The IRS’s subpoena arrived after my client had complied. Please extend your understanding to him—his company was struggling and on the verge of bankruptcy,” Selena vouched for her client.

“I’m uncertain whether the IRS is still serious about this case. Not one representative has shown up, considering this is only the first hearing,” the judge, a white man, noted.

“If the IRS misses the next hearings, this case will be dismissed,” Selena reassured Mr. Mendez as they left the courtroom together.

In the second week of June, one sunny and hot summer day, tall broad-leafed trees in the woods provided wide patches of shade. The long trail on the ground was lined with grass, pebbles, and stones. The wind blew gently, while birds chirped and streams continued to flow.

Topher, wearing a tan collared short-sleeved shirt, a royal blue neckerchief, a diagonally worn sash filled with badges, and leaf-green shorts, was walking with his buddy, Leo, as part of the Boy Scout buddy system. Leo was a wimpy kid with a runny nose, eyeglasses, and a parted bowl haircut.

“I don’t know if my parents were right in sending me here,” Leo, a white boy, muttered.

“Come on, exploring the forest will be fun, trust me,” Topher assured him.

“What are we even looking for?” Leo asked.

“There it is!” Topher exclaimed, running toward a log in the corner.

“What is that?” Leo said, creeped out.

“This is a Hercules Beetle,” Topher explained excitedly as he put the insect into a glass jar.

“You’re going to keep that?” Leo asked again.

“Yes, I’ll keep it for a little while,” Topher said with a grin.

Christopher Alexander William “Bill” Kennedy Jr. was a middle-aged white man in his mid-40s. He had short, straight golden blonde hair, olive green eyes, a well-defined square jaw, fair-medium skin, a muscular build, and stood at 6’5’’.

In the boardroom, Dr. Bill said, “With everything settled, this meeting is adjourned. I’ll meet you all next Friday as usual.” The CEO dismissed the C-suite officers.

A moment later, Dr. Bill was in the operating room, washing his hands thoroughly with water. Dressed in scrubs, a surgical mask, and loupes, he led his OR team, which included assistants, a scrub person, an anesthesiologist, and a circulating nurse.

“Now that we’re on full heart-lung machine support, we can enter the chest without needing to ventilate the lungs,” Dr. Bill explained to the residents.

“This is what we call the mini-thoracotomy approach, meaning the sternum, or breastbone, is not opened. That’s the main advantage—no bones need to heal after surgery,” Dr. Bill continued.

“What we’re doing is pulling the edges of the pericardium toward us, which brings the valve and the heart along with it,” he explained further.

“We now have all the exposure we need. The aorta is the major blood vessel we open to access the aortic valve,” Dr. Bill said, as the team worked on the aortic valve.

Announcer: “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. Christopher Alexander William Kennedy III, a nine-year-old wonder. He will perform Mozart’s Symphony No. 40, 1788, on the cello.”

The long red curtains opened, and the young musician stood on the stage of the opera house, before an audience clad in suits and gowns, seated on velvet-cushioned chairs.

“You’re going to nail this. Just believe in yourself,” Mr. Kutcher, Topher’s music teacher, encouraged from backstage.

Topher smiled at Mr. Kutcher, turning his head back for a moment. Then he faced the audience, sat down, and placed the cello between his legs. He held the bow and began to play:

Molto allegro

Selena, dressed in an elegant green gown adorned with emerald earrings and a necklace, quietly admired her son. My son has fulfilled my dream of becoming a musician.

Andante

Bill, in a brown suit and yellow tie, grinned from ear to ear.

Menuetto. Allegretto – Trio

Carlisle, the Kennedys’ butler, recorded the performance with his Canon DSLR camera.

Finale. Allegro assai

As Topher concluded his performance, the theater filled with warm applause.

A large Baroque Catholic church. The ceilings stretched as high as the heavens, with twisting columns and murals paneling the walls. Sculptures and carvings framed the marble and geometric architecture. At the altar, the crucifixion, the Virgin Mary, and the saints watched over. Angels held the holy water, and the Stations of the Cross lined the rows of pews across the aisle.

“Arise, brothers and sisters, the Mass is about to begin,” the young lector announced.

The congregation stood from their pews.

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. The bells rang, and the choir of boys and girls began to sing:

Glory and praise to our God

Who alone gives light to our days…

-Lyrics from Glory and Praise to Our God by Dan Schutte, Journeysongs Third Edition: Volume 18 (2012)

In the aisle, the priest stood front and center. To his left, a deacon held the incense; to his right, another carried the ciborium. On the third row, Topher, dressed in a surplice over his cassock, raised the crucifix mounted on a long rod. Behind him, four acolytes carried vigil candles on equally long rods.

That night, Topher sat in front of his computer with an over-ear headset on, clicking an MMO mouse atop an animal spirit pad. His fingers flew over the 7-color RGB backlit keyboard, his high-powered CPU humming quietly beside him.

On the screen, a royal blue and white knight with a sword and shield rode a white horse across a vast landscape. With a single press, the view changed to reveal a map of the entire continent.

Topher’s eyes remained glued to the screen. He checked the stats of his knight: strength, defense, luck, intelligence, speed, and wisdom. Then he opened the inventory, equipping the knight with better weapons and upgraded armor.

Opening the chat, Topher began to type: “Are you free to fight a boss? If so, come join me in my world.” He sent the message to a friend. He repeated the process, DMing twelve players in total.

Six agreed and joined the game: a wizard, a rogue, a hunter, a priest, a bard, and an artificer. Topher’s party entered the dungeon, facing a seven-headed, fire-breathing dragon. The knight fought bravely on the frontlines, while the wizard hurled shards of ice.

The rogue executed combos, and the hunter shot arrows from afar. The priest replenished health meters, while the bard distracted the dragon with clones conjured from his music. Finally, the artificer delivered the finishing blow with an arquebus.

At the airport, the Kennedys and their butler, Carlisle, waited patiently with other passengers. Bill watched the flight board attentively, making sure to hear every announcement.

Finally, the board displayed their flight details:

Time: 20:01.

Destination: Manila.

Flight: CX6471.

Gate: 25.

Remarks: Boarding.

The family stood up, and Carlisle pulled the luggage for Selena and Topher. Together, they proceeded to the indicated gate.

In the first-class section of the airplane:

“Just chamomile tea. No sugar, please,” Selena instructed the flight attendant.

“Right away, ma’am,” the attendant replied before leaving.

At midnight, with the lights off and everyone asleep, Topher woke up. He gazed out the window at the starless, blank night sky and the few clouds scattered across it. Suddenly, a shooting star streaked by, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

Topher looked around, wondering if anyone else had seen it. But everyone was asleep.

What was that? That came out of nowhere, Topher thought, but his confusion was quickly replaced with awe and joy.

The plane flew farther into the night, leaving only the starless sky and the quiet clouds.