Adultery

Susan Evangelista

“What does ‘covet’ mean?” asks my eight-year-old as I cautiously nudge the car a few feet forward.
The jeepney driver to my right blares his horn at me.
“What?” asks Jeff impatiently.
“Covet, covet. Sentence?” My kids know I need the context.
“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife nor thy neighbor’s car.”
Oh, okay. Religion class. But how did the car get in there?
“Okay”, I say. “Covet. Want for your own. You’re not supposed to want other people’s stuff. You
know that.”
Jeffy wants the Santos’s car,” pipes up Kimmy, age 6. She idolizes her Kuya Jeff, but has to
knock him down to size every once in a while.
“Yeah, I do, because it’s new. And it’s black. But is a wife stuff?”
“Of course not, but – maybe it’s the same kind of feeling, if you want somebody else’s wife.”
“Like Mr. Santos when he keeps going over to see Janey’s mom”, says Kimmy. “Maybe
that’s why he always waits for her dad to be out, so no one will know he covets.”
My mouth drops opened. If I weren’t deep in the traffic of Tandang Sora, I would turn to stare
at my prissy little daughter- now a glance her way has to do.
“Kimmy,” I say. “Maybe it’s better to not to repeat things like that. Who told you anyway?
Was it Janey?”
“Well Janey didn’t say coveting. She just said it was adultery they were doing. Adultery is
something adults do. She told me.”
Damn! A blue bus is pushing me off the road – yikes! And I’m supposed to turn left! Hold on
everybody – “Umm,” I say to Kimmy, “I don’t think that’s quite right – some adults get mixed up in
adultery, but not at all. And it doesn’t mean being an adult.”
“No, that’s right. It means ‘coveting’.” Jeff is back in the conversation. “And Sam told me
everybody does it. And not just dads. Moms too.”
Oh my. Sam, of course, is Janey’s brother. A brief silence while we all think about this. I
manage to make my left turn on to Commonwealth.
“Like when dad goes to see his secretary on Saturday,” says Kimmy all of a sudden.
“That’s what they’re doing. Coveting.”
I notice Jeff is watching me closely. Something hurts inside suddenly, badly. I say nothing.

Susan Evangelista taught English and Interdisciplinary Studies in the Ateneo for thirty years, the
“retired” to Palawan and taught in Palawan State University for twelve more years. Five years ago,
she and her daughter started an NGO which works in reproductive health education and provides
clinical services as well. She finds this work challenging but rewarding too, and of course living in
Palawan is its own reward!