ABOUT THE PLAY

“The Adopted Healthy Baby” won the first prize in the Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature in
2015.

The Adopted Healthy Baby

(Excerpt)
By Layeta P. Bucoy
Layeta P. Bucoy is a playwright who also writes screenplays, essays, and short stories. She
received her Master of Fine Arts in Creative writing from De La Salle University. She is a five-time Don
Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature winner. She became resident writer for Psicom
Publishing House under its Heartbeat Romance, Sopas Muna, and True Philippine Ghost Stories
publications. She was a columnist for Pinoy Parazzi and a member of its pool of writers for its erotic and
romantic novels. She wrote the screenplays for the indie films “Rigodon,” “Melodrama Negra,” and
“Edna.” Some of her plays like “Isang Libong Tula Para sa Dibdib ni Dulce” and “Doc Resureccion:
gagamutin ang bayan.” Have already been staged here and abroad. She currently teaches at the
University of the Philippines, Los Banos. She is a member of the Writer’s Bloc.

Characters:
MILA, late 50s, Chemistry professor
HOWELL, late 20s, Chemistry assistant professor; very fat, gay

Place: Mila’s office

Time: Present

(PREVIOUS DIALOGUE NOT INCLUDED, EXCERPT STARTS HERE)

Howell: She’s dead, Ma’am. No one is going to use her research. I’m the only one who
needs it. It’s handwritten. The only copy. I’ll publish it under my name. No one will ever know
but us. Please Ma’am. Give me the key.
Mila: I won’t allow you, Howell. That drawer is to remain locked. Now, why don’t you
go to the lobby and see if there are students loitering there?
(Beat. Howell goes out. Mila continues boxing things. Her cellphone rings. Its ringing tone is an
ordinary one taken from the common list of ringing tones in cell phones. Mila gets her cell
phone from her bag. She answers the call.)
Mila: Hello? Yes, Dad…No, we’re still boxing Ma’am Mendoza’s things…Yes, but Val
texted he’s still caught in the traffic. An hour more, maybe…No, Benjie is not with me. He’s still
in the lab…He can’t force organometallics to catalyze even if it’s for thesis…No, don’t wait for
us. You have to take your medicines by seven. Eat your dinner now…Don’t start with your
fishbone story. You haven’t had a fish bone pulled from your throat since Benjie was born…No,
Val won’t join us for dinner. It’s a three hour drive. He has to start back home after he gets his
mother’s stuff…I don’t know about Howell…Now, stop with your excuses, Dad. We’ll have meat
once your arteries are de-clogged…Of course, I won’t bend. I don’t care if you hate fish. It’s
what’s good for you now. And I already told Manang to spy on you. So, don’t you dare go out to
have meat. (Laughs a little) She’ll drag you back to the house with all the might of her sumo
wrestler weight…Dad, dad, listen. You know I have to keep you alive ‘til we visit Mabel and
Marnie at Texas next year. We’ll take Benjie with us then show them where they were all
conceived…(Laughs a little). Now, don’t be coy, Dad. Come on. Have fish for dinner, take your
medicines, I’ll be home in an hour. Bye, Dad.
(Mila terminates the call, returns her cellphone to her bag. She tries to carry the filling cabinet.
She gives up after two attempts. Then, she starts pushing it. Howell enters.)
Howell: Just three students.
Mila: Three is fine.
Howell: All girls.
Mila: (Pushes the filling cabinet.) We don’t need to carry this after all.
Howell: The girls said they’re to a party.
Mila: It’s a party, Howell. They can be a little late.
Howell: They were also required.
Mila: Even attending parties are required now?
Howell: Dean Ramos required them.
Mila: He must be desperate.
Howell: Do you know how much does it cost to keep someone who’s in a coma alive,
Ma’am?
Mila: I know about your mother, Howell.
Howell: But do you know how much I pay for just to keep her alive?
Mila: You’re not the only one who has –
Howell: Where will I get the money when I lose my job?
Mila: You want to keep your mother alive by doing something wrong.
Howell: What choice do I have?
Mila: Find another job. Find two jobs if that’s what it takes.
Howell: I’ve been teaching here for ten years now.
Mila: Then find another teaching job.
Howell: Schools aren’t hiring now.
Mila: There are other jobs.
Howell: Teaching chemistry is the only thing I know.
(Mila does not reply. She continues boxing things. Howell to pull the topmost drawer of the
filling cabinet once more.)
Mila: You’re wasting your time. That’s an old filling cabinet. Things were different
before. Things were built to outlive their owners. That cabinet is durable because it’s strong. No
amount of pulling can make you open that locked drawer.
Howell: Give me the key, then.

Mila: I won’t allow you to steal.

Howell: You were quiet the whole time.
Mila: You weren’t stealing before.
Howell: About the other wrong things.
Mila: They weren’t wrong.
Howell: An Education Graduate of some far-flung provincial college hired to teach
Chemistry here. I wasn’t even a Chemistry Major. I was an Educ. Grad who had English for a
major and Chemistry for a minor. And do you know why I got hired here? (Does to Mila what he
describes) I knelt before ma’am Mendoza and cried. “Ma’am! Please accept me! I have
nowhere else to go! I don’t even have money to go back to our province! We are so poor,
Ma’am! Please accept me!” I hugged her waist. “Ma’am! Please pity me! Please pity me!
Mila: (Detaches herself from Howell), Get hold of yourself, Howell.
Howell: I got in because of pity.
Mila: Ma’am Mendoza saw your potential in your teaching demo.
Howell: (Stands up.) She used her influence as professor emeritus to get me in because
she pitied me. Everyone knew that.
Mila: She told me a different thing.
Howell: Because she knew you’d ask for qualifications instead of a sob story.
Mila: You already survived teaching here for ten years. She was right. You had
potential.
Howell: (Goes to his bag, gets lecture notes.) And you know how I survived? Because of
her. Again. (Gives lecture notes to Mila) Look at my lecture notes. I knew nothing about organic
chemistry. Even my students knew I knew nothing about it. They were bullying me in class,
making fun of my incompetence. You heard the complaints I got in the student evaluation.
Ma’am Cora didn’t want to renew me. But Ma’am Mendoza asked her to give me another sem.
She promised to guide me.
Mila: And she guided you with these notes. Nothing wrong with that.
Howell: Read those notes, Ma’am. Read them thoroughly. They’re not lecture notes.
They are scripts. Ma’am Mendoza wrote me scripts. Even jokes and answers to questions my
students may raise are there. All I had to do was memorize those scripts, deliver them, and
voila! They got me through years and years of student evaluations.
Mila: (While browsing through the lecture notes.) These are but guides, Howell.
Suggestions. Ways you can handle your classes.
Howell: She fed me everything.
Mila: You were still the one who faced your classes.
Howell: Everything I told them did not come from me.
Mila: She told you what to say but you were still the one who said those things. You
were still the one who taught your students. Did she hold your classes for you?
Howell: She allowed me to own her words.
Mila: Lecture notes are different from a research paper.
Howell: But she was generous.
Mila: Not to the point of allowing you to publish her research output under your
name.
Howell: But that’s the only way for me to keep my job.
Mila: You only believe that because you refuse to look for other options.
Howell: (Searches his bag.) Have you read the memo?
Mila: What memo?
Howell: (Gets a memo from his bag, shows it to Mila.) They’re streamlining now. K to 12.
They already got rid of the Filipino department. Language center? Ha! Just a way to quash the
Filipino Department. Only the tenured Filipino professors were saved. I thought I’d be safe here
in Chemistry. But look at Dean Ramos’ memo. Only tenured faculty members are to remain
next school year. I’m up for tenure this sem, Ma’am. But they are asking for a publication in a
refereed journal. How can I get published? That journal which Ma’am Cora edits even rejected
me.
Mila: Then, submit to other journals.
Howell: I already did. It’s the same thing. Rejection after rejection.
Mila: Fine tune your research.
Howell: I’ve been revising it for a whole year. One journal said it’s not credible. Another
said the conclusion is not valid. Ma’am Cora told me it’s sophomoric, not even at par with an
ordinary undergrad thesis. If ma’am Mendoza didn’t become bed-ridden this year, she would
have fed me with a research paper, got me published, and I’ll be done with my tenure.
Mila: She didn’t give you the key, Howell. She gave it to me.
Howell: (Kneels before Mila, cries) That’s why I’m begging you. Please, Ma’am. Have
mercy on me. My mother is still in a coma. My younger sister dropped out of college. My older
brother lost his wife. I’m taking care of him and his three children. I have no one to run to. All
my relatives are poorer than me. This job is the only thing I have. This job is the only thing that
can make us all survive. (Embraces Mila’s waist and sings) “So darling, darling, stand by me! Oh
stand by me! Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me!”
Mila: (Distances herself from Howell.) Stop it, Howell. Stop it. You’re making a fool of
yourself.
Howell: (Still on his knees.) You want me to sing a different song?
Mila: I want you to stop making a fool of yourself.
Howell: But that’s how I’ve been surviving here, Ma’am. Being a fool. Making people
laugh. Running errands. All these things, all these things belonging to Ma’am Mendoza, I was
the one who transferred all of these down here. She had a lot of adopted babies here. But I was
the only one she asked to carry all her things here.
Mila: She didn’t trust her other babies with her things. She trusted you. You were her
favorite, her adopted healthy baby.
Howell: And I wasn’t her adopted healthy baby for nothing.
(Imitates Ma’am Mendoza while slowly getting up and going through her things.)
 “Kindly take this to the Dean’s office, Howell…Have these manuscripts bounded,
Howell…Please encode this for me…Can you get me some water…Some food…” And all I said
was “yes, Ma’am… yes, Ma’am… yes, Ma’am.”
Mila: You resented the small favors she asked you?
Howell: I did not resent them, Ma’am. I’m just telling you that no one here took me
seriously. Not Dean Ramos, not Ma’am Cora, not you, and not even Ma’am Mendoza. All of you
are nice to me because you think that I’m nice. Funny at times. (Stands on top of one of the
desks and sings and dances with much gusto) “So darling, darling, stand by me! Oh, stand by
me! Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me!” (Goes down from the desk.) Do you know how many
times Ma’am Cora and our other colleagues asked me to entertain them whenever they felt
bored?
Mila: Howell, that’s just your way of getting along with our colleagues.
Howell: I’m so funny that they allowed me to take my master’s in some diploma mill.

Mila: Ma’am Mendoza wanted you to study here.

Howell: But I begged her. I had to study near our house so I could take care of my
mother. Her health was already declining during that time. It wasn’t the whole truth, Ma’am. I
was scared. I knew I wasn’t too bright.
Mila: Point is, you still earned a master’s degree.
Howell: From a diploma mill!
Mila: You still earned it.
Howell: Ma’am Mendoza got her Ph.D. from Cornell, you got yours from Texas, Ma’am
Cora got hers from Australia, our colleagues are lining up at the office of International Linkages
to get scholarships abroad. Tell me, Ma’am. Was it right to allow me to get my master’s from
some obscure college you haven’t even heard of?
Mila: The university welcomes different philosophies, different perspectives coming
from different schools. Including those coming from what you label as obscure colleges.
Howell: My thesis is garbage.
Mila: Don’t say that.
Howell: That’s why I couldn’t get any of its parts published.
Mila: Howell, listen now. Yes, you are nice. You’re funny. People here know that. But
you’re one of Ma’am Mendoza’s adopted babies. She didn’t just take anyone under her wings.
Cora is not one of her adopted babies. She found her lacking in brilliance. She only chose the
brilliant ones. She used to say, “birds of the same feather flock together.” She didn’t want to
flock with the mediocre. She chose you for even you haven’t realized it yet, you are brilliant.
(Howell searches through some of the boxes. Mila continues boxing things. Howell then goes to
the bookshelf, looks for a particular book. He finds it, gets the book from the shelf and shows it
to Mila.)
Howell: Remember this?
Mila: (Opens the book.) Oh yes. Lipase-catalyzed irreversible transesterifications.
Ma’am Mendoza was so proud of this.
Howell: Authored by her other babies, Owen and Ritzel. Remember them?
Mila: Yes, I do. (Takes one of the framed pictures from the desk near the window,
shows it to Howell.) This is Owen, right? He was really skinny then. And this is Ritzel? The one
who resigned after calling Cora a leech sucking the Dean’s ass in one of the faculty meetings?
Howell: (Takes the book.) They authored this. On their own. Mere instructors at that
time. But they were already able to author a book.
Mila: (Still looking at the picture.) Your office at the third floor was really nice. Ma’am
Mendoza used to tell me she kept decorating it with you. She really loved it there. Third floor.
Big windows. Lots of fresh air. Far from the noise of the students who loiter the lobby. Diabetes
could be so cruel. If her right leg did not get amputated, she would have loved to stay in your
office instead of transferring here.
Howell: You’re not listening ma’am.
Mila: Your contemporaries were able to author a book when they were still
instructors. Now it’s your time to get published. As simple as that.
Howell: Owen and Ritzel, they’re really brilliant. You, Ma’am. You’re Ma’am Mendoza’s
adopted baby, too. And no one will question your brilliance. But me? I’m just nice and funny.
Mila: For someone your size, you keep belittling yourself.
Howell: But it’s true, Ma’am. She never saw any brilliance in me. Birds of the same
feather flock together. Yes, I also heard her say that. Several times, Ma’am. And each time I’d
ask her what kind of feather she saw on me; she’d just laugh and say –
Mila: Yours is the most special.
Howell: She told you?
Mila: Yes. Several times.
Howell: Then you know it’s not the feather of brilliance?
Mila: A different kind of brilliance. Not the brainy type. But more special. The reason
why she gave me the key.
(Beat. Mila goes to the refrigerator, opens its door, and takes a pitcher of water. She takes a
glass from the plastic rack and pours water in it. Howell goes back to boxing things from the
bookshelf.)
Howell: She didn’t want me to transfer all these books here. She said they should stay in
our office so I could read them all.
Mila: If you’re thirsty I have some cold water and orange juice here.
Howell: (Skims through the pages of a book.) I tried reading each one of these.
Mila: Or maybe you want coffee?
Howell: I didn’t understand any of these books.
Mila: You’re a funny guy, Howell. Self-pity doesn’t suit you.
(Mila starts roasting coffee beans in the prototype coffee roaster. The sound from the roaster
catches Howell’s attention. He approaches the roaster.)
Howell: Is this Sir Ben’s roaster?
Mila: Just a prototype
Howell: Your husband is a genius.
Mila: You sent your sister to check on this last week.
Howell: Hilda was raving about this. She said it’s perfect for small scale roasting, perfect
for a small coffee shop.
Mila: She said she wanted to have one.
Howell: And that Sir Ben’s introducing this to the market.
Mila: Yes, he’s calling it Benjie’s roaster.
Howell: And what about Marnie and Mabel?
Mila: What about them?
Howell: Sir Ben’s naming this after your youngest child. Marnie and Mabel may get
jealous.
Mila: Oh, they’ll have their own products named after them.
Howell: because they’re brilliant.
Mila: What do you mean?
Howell: They’re both pursuing their Ph.Ds. at Texas A&M, where you and Sir Ben, both
got yours. Marnie was summa. Mabel was Magna. And Benjie…
Mila: Benjie is extended. You can say it. I’m not ashamed of it.
Howell: You’re favoring your weakest child.
Mila: We don’t consider him weak.
Howell: But compared to his sisters –
Mila: We don’t practice favoritism, Howell.
Howell: Then you’re not like Ma’am Mendoza.
(End of excerpt)

Questions for Discussion/Recitation:

1. Who are the two main characters of the play?
2. Why does Howell think that he is not qualified to teach Chemistry?
3. What is the health condition of Howell’s mother?
4. Why does this condition bother Howell so much?
5. How about Howell’s brother and sister, what are their problems?
5. Why does Howell insist on getting the research of the late Ms. Mendoza?
6. Who was Mila referring to as the adopted healthy baby of Ms. Mendoza?
7. Why does Howell feel inferior in terms of educational qualification compared to his colleagues?
8. What do you mean with the expression, “birds of the same feather flock together.”
9. If Ms. Mendoza were alive, do you think she will give the research paper to Howell? Why? Why not?
10. If you were Howell, would you do or ask for the same thing?

Reference: The Development of Philippine Literature in English (Since 1900)

By Richard V. Croghan, S.J.