CHAPTER 1
In a time of incipient wantonness and decay, a time whenthe line between truth and falsehood, honor and dishonor, sanityand madness was gray and thin, there is in every lonely heartan inaudible cry, a cry that could easily be labeled just; a crythat could throw caution into the wind. A wise man once saidthat "there is nothing new under the sun" making such a cryancient and though there are many worlds as there are spheresof influence, the saying shows the constancy of human nature,its vices and virtues, its longings and pursuits all rooted to anemptiness that must be filled, a crack in its image that must befixed. Yet even those who've encountered the one true God takeup idols and upon realizing that they have done so hardened theirhearts and embraced their perdition.
At the southern tip of Luzon was a J-shaped peninsulahugging Playa Bay. At the tip of the bay was the town of OpalCliffs, home to U.S. navy ships and at its crest was La Playa, apoor seacoast town known for the tall obelisk-like tamarind treethe source of folk tales and superstitions. The town was also afavorite hangout of sailors on their liberty. Our story involved thedisappearance of one such navy man.
It was 1957 twelve years after the end of the SecondWorld War when La Playa began to show the American influencein her lifestyle. At Rooster Ben's, the local pub, there was thejukebox with all the American hits of the 1950's. When there wasno free movie to be shown in Looban, there was the portable TVpropped up by Mr. Nakano on his window sill for those who wantto watch the syndicated westerns. The town was also known forthe Big House owned by Don Carlos Montilla whose house ofconcrete and marble instead of bamboo and pawid was pharisaicby La Playa's norm. It stood on a rise overlooking the bay onthe west and on the east the valley where the forest lay. Theobelisk-like tree to the irreverent a phallus taunting heaven wasalso witness to decades of vows of love beneath its bough. Onesuch vow was that between Andres Eden and Simona Montilla, intheir beauty was like a pair of Roman god and goddess. Amongthe rich, it was not uncommon to have arranged marriages,even among cousins. Though the word incest was never in theirvocabulary, the very idea repulsed Andres and risking life andlimb managed to win Simona taking her away from the manshe had been pledged, her cousin Don Carlos. That was fifteenyears ago when girls of fifteen marry and have a child. Now onhis usual morning walk Andres Eden, a tall, handsome man inhis early forties stopped by the Sandoval house and saw Ellen, adissolute young girl, by the window her face towards the ocean;her apparent disregard to the wailing of her daughter gave hima sense that the spirit of rebellion residing in his heart have alsocaptured the village youth. If God willed Isaac to be born whatwas he telling me on the death of Armand, my only son. Andso it would be his complaint against God even when he and hisbeautiful wife Mona would be given another. How this came to beI will now relate.
Pedro Alvarez, a stocky man with a dogmatic dispositionand the town's mayor, always believed that the movies fromHollywood were not inimical culturally but rather a necessaryescape from poverty, a belief which overlooked the impressionableyouth of his village. This was especially true to Ellen, thepubescent wife of Damian Sandoval, one of the town's policemen.Her house, one of the many which lined Looban gave her anadvantage allowing her to watch the movies held there just bylooking out the window. She didn't watch to be amused but toglean beads of wisdom. And like any sensitive girl was quickto take to heart sentiments or dilemmas akin to her. "If only Icould be good again" uttered by Pearl of Duel in the Sun was oneof them. Like Pearl, she felt like trash having been forced to amarriage she didn't want. Three months after giving birth toher first child, she would meet an ensign on liberty giving herhope of ending her dissatisfaction. One morning she was on thebeach letting Emma breath the morning sea breeze, a practiceof mothers to cure their children of congestion. She was breastfeeding her daughter when sailors on liberty came on a boatand spotted her. She descried a young man she thought lookedlike Cary Grant and wished that he'd come to her. He did. Vitothe amorous and bold among the three let the other two go onto town and he stayed with her. That night Damian was neededby Fabian, a detective, who was to bring Cuchillo, a convictedmurderer, to Maragundon, the provincial prison. One way it was atwo hour drive giving Vito ample time to enjoy Ellen. They wereinside Santiki's cottage and would forge a plan for her to leave herhusband and child.
One night in September six months later, Ellen Sandovalwould stand outside her house mesmerized by the antagonist ofLeave Her to Heaven. As usual the free movie would play on thescreen atop a van which peddled Cortal, a cold and fever reliever,parked at the south end of Looban. I will be like her strong,wily and beautiful Ellen said to herself idolizing her namesakeon the screen. "People in love don't really die". How true shesaid to herself mimicking Ellen of the movie. Like a supplicantneeding an answer to her prayer, she took the antagonist's wordas tacit approval of her plan. Three months later the wet seasonover, La Playa was adorned for Christmas. There were lanternshanging on every window and carols played over the radio. Boththe Roman Catholic Church situated in the heart of town and amile away from the Methodist Chapel located near La Playa HighSchool and across Mr. Politos' funeral parlor got ready for advent.Dr. Borschardt, a thirty year old German who made La Playa hishome and assiduously visits her and Emma, set her to give birthon the first week of December. That day had come and she didn'ttake the delay as the doctor's error rather as justification fromheaven of her plan.
Three days before the promised return of her lover andher plan's fulfillment—the first day of advent—she acted on herplan and went to see Santiki, a chubby boy her age. It was duringsiesta that she left her nine month old daughter to her neighborMona. After leaving Looban, she entered a narrow alley whichcontinued on to the fishponds. Before reaching the fishponds, sheturned to her left towards the woods. Hidden behind a clump ofbanana trees was Santiki's cottage. She was glad that its staironly had two steps. Reaching the door, she opened it. What shesaw assured her that her secret was secure. After telling Santikiwhy she came, she left and went home taking the road which cutthrough the forest.
Beneath the bough of the tall tamarind tree, Andres foundEllen reading the lovers names carved on its monolith-like trunk(it can hide four men abreast).
"There is nothing like true love is there," Ellen said.
What do you know about love? Andres wanted to say butremembering Mona was fifteen like Ellen when she gave birthto Armand, their only son, he didn't. The boy had been dead tenyears and he'd been going into the woods in the hope of catchingwhoever killed his son. He was convinced that criminal elementslurk in the woods and didn't believe the German doctor'sdiagnosis of death by spider venom.
"You're bold to be here alone," Ellen heard Andrescatching a hint of irritation in his voice. She looked at him andsaw how anger gave him a fierce countenance and regretted it forshe found him quite handsome. She left without speaking.
Soon, she was on the dirt road separating a row of eclectichouses—a mix of cottages and wood-framed houses—from theforest. Directly in line with the shadow of the tall tamarindtree was the cottage of Andres and Mona Eden. South of theircottage unbarred by any shrub or tree was her house, a two storywood frame with yero for its roof. Inside, she took the stair whichled to the bedroom.
"I'm sorry I came back so late," Mona heard the sincereapology of the young girl before her.
"Did you accomplish what you set out to do?" Ellen wasstartled by Mona's question. She looked at her beautiful yet kindeyes and said, "Yes, thank you." She pulled a five peso bill and gaveit to Mona who took it and left. She then went to bed and countedthe days, and the hours when her dream would be fulfilled.
Nobody knows how rumors start. One afternoon after oneof his visits to Patsy's, the local brothel across the river, Damiancame home nagged by the rumor that Ellen had a lover. He foundher seated by the window. Without much of a greeting he askedher if the rumor was true. Ellen sat quietly without giving ananswer. Damian then tried to instill fear in her. He took a knifeand threatened to stab her jabbing the knife stopping its pointwithin an inch of her bulging tummy. Damian jabbed the knifethree times but Ellen was defiant. Seeing her unafraid, Damiandropped the knife. On the way out of his house, he met Dr.Borschardt.
"I've come to check on Emma," Damian heard the highpitched voice of the young doctor.
Damian nodded. He then got on his patrol car and droveoff.
Ellen didn't waste time telling the young doctor how shefelt about Damian.
"He's a son-of-a-whore," she said with unmasked anger.She saw the doctor picked up the knife and told him that hethreatened to kill her.
"Everybody knows your husband has a mean temper,"Ellen heard the doctor's soft voice. Putting the knife away, he said,"I'd like to examine Emma." She saw him put on his stethoscopeand before she could nod, he had it on Emma's chest.
"I've been taking her to the beach every morning," Ellensaid regaining her composure.
"Morning sea breeze is good but be sure you have herwrapped in a blanket. I'll come once a month. Don't get excited,it's bad for the baby."
The eve before the first day of advent Ellen tried tosuppress her excitement. But as Major Warden tells CommanderShears on the movie "The Bridge on the River Kwai" 'there's alwaysthe unexpected'. La Playa would be buffeted by a storm. WouldVito come? Ellen lay on the bed thinking about the possibleeffects of the storm. She fell asleep thinking about it. Around teno'clock at night, Ellen felt the lustful hands of her husband andawakened her. In the dark, she could smell gin on his breath.
"Get your hands off me Damian," she said staring at hisreptilian eyes.
She took her stand, assuming the role of Ellen of LeaveHer to Heaven, strong and determined. After seeing her husbandleave, she went back to sleep.
Damian went to the forest and took the dirt road whichled to Patsy's. Reaching the acacia tree where the road splits,he waived Patsy's temporarily and took the one on the rightwhich took him to Santiki's cottage. As the town policeman, itwas his duty to keep the peace and that included a fight betweenSantiki and Bertha. The fight which happened a week ago notonly revealed the root of their brawl—sugar cane refuse Berthawanted for her sow which Santiki had denied giving her—but bythe curses they have hurled at each other their homosexuality.The cat being out of the bag accusations of dalliances of eachwere thrown like meaningless words into the wind. It was fromthere that Damian had heard how Bertha fantasized about hiswife. His libido frustrated by Ellen, he decided to confront Santikiabout what Bertha had said he knew about Ellen.
Like Ellen, he found Santiki in sodomy with a young manwho upon seeing his uniform and gun grabbed his clothes, jumpedout the window and disappeared into the woods. Fixing hisreptilian eyes on Santiki he said, "Now you will tell me what Ellenis up to and don't even think of lying."
After leaving Santiki, he took the road which led toPatsy's. Upon reaching the bridge which spanned the river, hecrossed it and entered Patsy's brothel. Then there was a flash oflightning. Patsy, a Dominican beauty, welcomed him with botharms. Then the thunder pealed. The wind howled and the rainbegan to fall.
CHAPTER 2
There is no saner man in the world than the madman. Inhis mind, he alone holds the truth and those who disagree withhim are insane. So he laughs. A madman-like belief whether noblelike a rebellion aiming to change the world, insidious and benton revenge or mundane like romance to gain one's happinessis powerful, setting the mind on one track, laying captive one'sspirit, goading it with fanatic zeal to act on what the beliefdemands, setting the neck rigid, fixing the eyes only on the prize.
And Ellen had her eyes on the prize. The morningafter the anomalous storm—no storm visits La Playa inDecember—under a bright silver sky beneath the dark boughof the tamarind tree, Ellen stood before its monolith trunk. Shegrinned reading her name and that of her lover inscribed by aheart she had just carved on it. She didn't care if those aroundher—men afraid of the choleric nature of her husband—thoughtshe was mad adding her sin to decade old names and their vowsof fidelity. Isn't madness justification apart from the madman'sjustification?
It is 1957, the year of my jubilee and I intend to be free.She recalled the words of her letter she'd sent nine monthsago to Flora, her friend who lives in New York. "Are you CaryGrant?" she smiled recalling how she got to know her lover.Thinking of him now and his promised life in a new world,she was unmindful of what surrounded her: branches brokenin its tenacity, bamboo shoots bowed to humility, fruits frommango, manzanitas and guava groves both ripe and unripe, anddebris-pawid, yero, karatula—strewn about her. If she was pleasedwith what she'd done, her happiness was fleeting. Oblivious of thevillage ritual of looking into the tree (a custom to assuage theirfear of its toppling because their cottages fell in its shadow), shegot surrounded by men—peasants and fishermen—who beingreminded of their mortality came to heed ritual's call. Why aren'tyou with your husband and child? The men's look seemed to say.Men are not gods or demons unable to read another person'smind; yet by virtue of one's conduct, even manner of dress, themen showed what they think and hang their lustful eyes on her.
Feeling the heat from their leering eyes, Ellen's beautifulbrown eyes filled with disdain peered into them, her sensuous lipspressed tight, showing her irritation at their sudden intrusionand talk of death, interrupting her thoughts of times spent withher lover who'd promised to take her away. Despite her whitemuslin dress shapeless like a barrel ending above the knee, shecould read their eyes imagine her wide hips and ample bosom.Lechers! You're one reason why I want to leave La Playa, hermind blind to her own sin said to no one. There was no pity inher heart casting her eyes at their forlorn emaciated faces, at theirshadowed eyes glowing with anxiety. Reminded by poverty, shewas filled with disgust seeing their cheeks bulge with nganga,homemade chewing tobacco (areca palm nut wrapped in betelleaves dubbed with slaked lime), and their parched lips wettedwith the blood-like juice oozed down their chin. Stop staring atme. Her mind continued to rant. No words were exchanged by themen who stopped leering at her alabaster shoulders draped by herlong black hair and looked for hope palming the rough, dark barkof the tree, patting it like a reliable ally and friend. There wasthe usual mustiness seeping up from the wet ground and whatfreshness Ellen smelled in the light east wind was overpoweredby the pungent mint as the dark, wet loom soil drank nganga spaton the ground, a smell she would puke on last March nine monthsago. The thought dimmed her mood. Go home and leave mealone, her mind yelled. Like an answer to her unheard ranting, thesmooth, mellow sound of White Christmas which reminded themof the season of love and giving floated in the air. The romanticwould not see the irony of such a song in a tropical peninsula.Ellen's keen ear heard the song and the imagery of a winterwonderland played in her head. Thinking only of her happiness,she despised even more the bucolic crowd about her. In silence,she watched them inspect the tree, poking with bamboo sticks theearth where its roots clung onto. Having allowed one superstitioncorrupt her heart believing she had secured promises of eternallove, she felt happy once more. The men must have seen thesparkle in her eyes and thought her mad knowing what Damian inhis jealous rage might do to her.
