As she left the room, last night’s lost memory came to mind. Estevez. She had read his name, Señor Salvador Estevez, in the newspaper while at Moody’s fishing shack. He had been arrested and later released from Fort Santiago for something. Her hands were cold, and she realized she felt shaky inside too.
In the morning room, Gina found a woman with velvety skin sitting in a winged chair reading the newspaper. Dark hair curled around a friendly, open face, a short nose, and hazelnut eyes. The woman put the paper down and held out her hand. “Welcome to my home, Mrs. Thorpe. I’m Señora Estevez. Help yourself to breakfast on the buffet, and come sit with me.” She moved to a table that was set for two with colorful stoneware and pewter.
Gina selected one egg, two slices of bacon, and a cup of sliced mangoes and bananas. Millie brought her a cup of coffee.
Once they were settled, the señora asked, “Are you comfortable in your room?”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful room. This is a gorgeous house.”
“Thank you. The land has been in my husband’s family for over two hundred years. It was once a pineapple plantation. Before the Japanese came, I was having the house modernized—plumbing, heating, and such.” She gestured to a door that led outside. “You’re welcome to use the garden. You’ll find it pleasant out there. I must ask you not to go off of our property until you’re issued your residence pass, for your sake and ours. People caught without a pass are arrested. As you can imagine, that would be a bad situation.”
Gina was anxious to get started on her mission. “How long does it take, Señora?”
“Please call me Franca, and I’ll call you Gina. How long it takes depends. A few days or a month. A letter from my husband to Colonel Ito of the Kempeitai may speed it up. It’s never a sure thing.”
Curious, Gina asked the question she had been pondering. “It’s very generous of you, and I appreciate it, but why are you and Señor Estevez willing to help me? You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, we do, better than you think. Your husband, Ray, is well respected in the business world. We know you as a prolific fund-raiser for the Junior League. Where is Ray now?”
“I don’t know. He was on Corregidor. I’ve had no word of him.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not unusual. And your little girl, Cheryl?”
Gina smiled at hearing her daughter’s name. “I left her in the mountains with friends.”
“That’s rough, but leaving her there is for the best. Manila’s not the city it used to be. I’m sure you’ve noticed the sentries on the streets already. Let me tell you where we stand. I’m sure you’re wondering. Señor Estevez and I know that you’re here to raise money for Major Davy McGowan. When Davy contacted Father Morgan saying he needed help getting you set up in the city, Father Morgan came to us. It was a hard decision. Señor Estevez spent two months in Fort Santiago, you see. It was in all the papers, so you probably already know. He wasn’t seen as cooperating with the new administration. Men are found floating facedown in the Pasig River for doing less. He’s in their good graces now, but we’re being watched. You will be, too, until you change your identity and can disappear into the city. You have a cover story, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Gina had gone over her story until she sometimes believed she was Signora Angelina Aleo, born in Milan, Italy, and raised in Vancouver, Canada, by her mother’s sister. She had come to the Philippines with her Canadian husband. He had worked in the gold mines in northern Luzon. There had been a mining accident. It was presumed he had been killed, though his body had never been recovered. It had happened years ago, just before the mine had closed.
“I worked with Marcus to select names and dates that couldn’t be traced. He suggested I grew up in Canada to account for my good English.”
“Yes, you need to keep practicing the details. If you’re ever questioned by the Kempeitai, they’ll pick up discrepancies in a heartbeat. I’ve been asked to help you get started. As long as you’re staying here, I’ll quiz you on your story until it’s second nature.” Franca’s gaze wandered to outside the window, where wide-leaved plants and red hibiscus surrounded a waterfall and grotto that held a statue of the Blessed Virgin. “Secrets. Always lies and secrets. It’s not the way it was.” She flipped her hand in resignation.
Gina spent her days in sequestration under Franca’s tutelage, preparing for a new life in the occupied city.
“You must learn to bow,” Franca said. “The Japanese man is arrogant. You must be silent and compliant to him and always bow. If you don’t, he’ll slap your face. Accept the slap. Don’t put up a fuss. If you show any resistance, he’ll beat you. You’ll see it often happen on the street. Pretend you don’t notice.” She demonstrated the bow, and Gina reluctantly copied it—a stiff tilt forward from the waist with hands clasped together. “Keep your head down. Don’t look a Japanese man in the eye. If one yells tomeru, that means ‘halt.’ Believe him and do it. Don’t ever run away—he’ll shoot you in the back.”
Gina felt her face pale. She had heard about the beatings but not the shootings.
Over lunch or while walking in the garden, Franca quizzed Gina about her invented life as Signora Angelina Aleo, often tripping her up on the details and stressing the importance of keeping them straight. So thorough was her tutelage that Gina wondered whether Franca had mentored others through this passage of change. An artist forged Gina new identity papers, and Señor Estevez bribed a clerk at city hall to obliterate all records of Angelina Maria Capelli Thorpe from public files.
“You need to meet with Colonel Ito, the head of the Kempeitai, for your residence pass. Señor Estevez will call his office to set up an appointment.”
“Is there any way I can get out of it?”
“No. He’ll ask you a few questions. You’ll take an oath and sign a paper. It only takes a few minutes.”
A few minutes face to face with a Japanese officer of the Kempeitai, answering questions she was bound to stumble over, giving herself away as well as those helping her. It sent a chill up Gina’s spine. Señor and Señora Estevez had no idea what they were asking of her.
Gina found a spot in the garden where she could bask in the sun to keep her skin dark so as not to stand out in a crowd, though it was a moot point, she thought, since she was inches taller than most Filipinas.
Millie came into the garden. “Miss Gina, a man at the door is asking to see you. He says his name is Miguel.”
Miguel? Her former houseboy? What could he possibly want? Gina straightened her clothes and hurried to the porch, where Miguel stood with his hands in his pockets. When he saw her, he whispered, “I told to ask if you like strawberries.”
“Oh! I see.” Caught off guard, Gina had to think. “I prefer mangoes.” She stepped back and smiled. She knew Miguel to be steady and faithful, and he would be a good contact between her and the camp, but it was a dangerous job, and he had young children. “Please come in.”
She signaled Millie, who was passing by. “Please bring us some tea and a snack of some kind. We’ll be in the morning room.”
Miguel followed Gina to a small table by a window that overlooked the garden. They sat opposite each other. “It’s good to see you, Miguel. Where are you working now?”
“With my father. He has an orchard of fruit trees. He is glad to have me with him. He is older now. Has aches and pains.”
“And your wife and children?”
“She do fine. We have four kids now. New baby girl three months old.”
“Congratulations! That’s wonderful news. That balances your family, two and two. And you’re a runner for Davy?”
He leaned in close and spoke in a whisper. “Major Davy, I call Stargazer.”
Gina strained to hear. “You can speak up. Stargazer what . . .”
He spoke a fraction louder. “He ask that I be your runner. I say yes. I be honored. You call me when you need me. I go up the mountain fast by horseback or slower with cart. It depends.”
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Gina’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? With the kids? It’s dangerous for you.”
“Everything dangerous nowadays.” His hand went to an amulet hanging on a leather thong around his neck. “I know the trails Japs not know. They get lost easy. I know caves where to hide. I good shooter with a gun.”
The excitement in Miguel’s eyes surprised her. He had never seemed the kind of man to live on the edge.
Millie came into the morning room carrying a tray with glasses of iced tea and slices of banana bread. Gina offered Miguel a piece. “Major Davy moves around. How do you find him?”
Miguel waited for Millie to leave the room. “I go to a checkpoint. I have a code. They point the way.” He reached into his pocket. “I bring you a letter.” He handed it to Gina.
Gina put the precious letter aside. “Thank you. How will I contact you?”
“I give you telephone number. Ask for Flash, like Flash Gordon.” He grinned, and Gina did, too, at her laid-back houseboy’s alter ego. He reached into another pocket. “When I check your house, I found this on Mr. Ray’s nightstand. He gone. I think you want it.” He handed her Ray’s onyx ring.
“Oh, Miguel. Ray must have left it out. Everything happened in such a rush. How can I thank you?”
“Thank-you not needed. I wish I could have found more for you. Japs are living in your house now.”
“That’s what I heard. I’d still like to see it.”
“No. That not a good idea.”
Gina had Millie wrap up a loaf of banana bread for Miguel to take with him. She walked him out. “I’ll be moving soon. I’ll call you with my new address. Miguel, have you seen Isabella?”
“Yes, ma’am. She lives with her mother and works in a market stall. She sells anting-anting.” A crocodile-tooth bracelet dangled from Miguel’s wrist as he waved goodbye.
A perfect fit for Isabella, working in a market stall selling amulets to protect against evil forces and charms to bring good luck and good health. She called after Miguel, “Tell Isabella I’m glad she’s happy, and I wish her well.”
Gina returned to the morning room and slid Ray’s ring onto her thumb. The last time she’d seen it, they had been dancing the rumba at the Jai Alai Club, and she’d teased him about the wiggle of his hips. Though he claimed to have no rhythm, Ray was an adequate dancer and open to practicing intricate steps and nuanced moves that sometimes led to tangles, trips, and peals of laughter. And then there were the nights he’d push the lanai furniture back and put on a record, and they’d dance under the light of the moon, and if Cheryl joined them, they’d circle their private ballroom as a threesome. She wondered if they would ever dance as a threesome again. Slipping off the ring, she read the inscription on the inside of the band. Forever. How long was their forever? Had it already slipped away? She sniffed and put aside the ring and her disturbing thoughts. She opened the letter and saw Cheryl’s childish scrawl.
Dear Mama,
We moved and I cried becuz I was afrad you culd not find me. Miss Vivian said that you always no where I am. Are you done in Manila? Can you come and get me?
I love you.
Cheryl
PS Miss Vivian says we have to save paper but I culd write on the bak of hers.
Gina put the letter down. A sad plea from a sad little girl. She knew it would take Cheryl time to adjust, and it would be a painful process, but knowing it didn’t make living it any easier. Sniffing back tears while fingering the locket that lay close to her heart, she flipped the letter over to read Vivian’s message.
My friend. We got a report saying you made the trip to Manila safely, and you are now waiting for a residence pass. My fingers are crossed for you. We’ve moved since you left, and Davy is talking about moving again. We just got settled, but now hear that patrols are in the area. Cheryl is a real trooper. She’s still crying for you, but she is willing to accept Maggie’s and my hugs and cuddles that settle her down for periods of time. She’s going to be just fine, Gina. Go about your business in Manila with a guiltless heart. I’ll keep you informed of her needs. With that said, this last move I lost my comb and toothbrush. My little one needs shoes, size three or four. Anything that will protect her feet. Maggie and I are both craving something to read. I miss you terribly. I wish you luck. Viv
Gina folded the letters. How she yearned to help them, but she was hidden away in the hacienda. Later, she asked Millie to purchase shoes for Leah and gave her money from what Marcus had given her. She asked Franca for books and magazines to send to her friends, and Franca was more than generous, also donating soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and personal items. Gina packaged the items into a bag and asked Miguel to deliver them. It was a start—a very small one, but a start.
When Franca announced that Gina had an appointment with Colonel Ito at eleven o’clock that morning, Gina choked on her coffee and coughed until her face turned red.
Franca thumped her back. “Señor Estevez will be representing you. Just stay calm, and you’ll do fine.”
Calm wasn’t Gina’s worry; her own rancor was. Could she face a senior official of the military police without oozing hostility? Was her loathing of the Japanese apparent? Would it show on her face? In the mirror she practiced keeping her body relaxed and her expression bland, but venom bled from every pore.
Señor Estevez had a bushy mustache, was taller than most Filipino men, and wore his white suits with style. Gina had met him when she’d first arrived at the hacienda but had seldom seen him since. She waited for him in the foyer, and when he arrived, he counseled her to let him do most of the talking. If Colonel Ito asked her anything, she was to keep her answers brief. Before getting into the car, he signaled her by putting his finger to his lips and nodding toward the driver. During the short trip, he remained preoccupied with a sheaf of papers. Gina stared out the window and rehearsed her history—born in Milan, raised in Canada.
At the city hall, they sat in a stuffy room crowded with others waiting for their appointments with government officials. Gina covered her nose and mouth with her hand and furtively looked around, thankful not to see old friends, former neighbors, or social acquaintances who could point a finger or blow a whistle. She wiped beads of nervous sweat off her forehead, and by the time she and Señor Estevez were summoned to appear before Colonel Ito, her head was pounding.
“Don’t forget to bow,” Señor Estevez whispered as they entered the inner chamber.
Colonel Ito sat behind a large desk in a cavernous room, a secretary on one side and an aide on the other. Behind them stood two Rising Sun flags. The colonel was scribbling in a notebook, and Gina, her knees feeling wobbly, detected the scratch of the pen on paper and the tick of the wall clock as the hand jerked one second forward.
After pushing the notebook aside, Colonel Ito lit a cigarette, and Gina desired one of her own to calm the nervous energy that was making her fingertips tingle. He addressed Señor Estevez in heavily accented but understandable English. “What brings you here today?”
“A residence application, sir.” The Spaniard told the rehearsed story that Signora Angelina Aleo had left Manila to visit friends on Bataan and had lost her house and papers in the bombing. His voice sounded strong, but he stood stiffly with his hat in his hands. Gina relaxed her face, hoping to give the appearance that this meeting was just another day’s errand to run; however, sweat ran in rivulets between her breasts.
Colonel Ito turned and spoke to her. “Where were you born, Signora Aleo?”
“I was born in Milan, Italy, Colonel.”
“And what brought you to the Philippines?”
“I came with my husband. He was killed in a mining accident several years ago.” She felt a flush of anger rise to her cheeks, knowing the Japanese had killed Ray or imprisoned him, and she prayed the colonel wouldn’t see it.
Not taking his eyes off her, the colonel leaned back in his huge chair and folded his hands over his stomach. “I spent a summer in Florence years ago. Beautiful country. Beauti
ful language. Say something in Italian for me.”
She forced a smile. It had been a while since she had spoken Italian, but her grandmother’s favorite phrase popped into her mind. “È un buon giorno per avere una buona giornata”; “It’s a good day to have a good day.” She widened her smile, hoping to win his favor, but his gaze was blank, and she suspected he had not understood a word she’d said.
“Very nice. I like poetry. How is it you speak English without a hint of an accent?”
Gina stopped smiling. Though the tone of his voice was pleasant, the question carried a dark undertone. “I grew up in Vancouver, Canada. I went there to live with my aunt after my parents died. They speak pretty good English in Canada, sir.”
Beside her, Señor Estevez’s body jerked. The room went quiet, and Gina heard the tick of the clock again. She swallowed hard, wishing she could take back her last words.
Colonel Ito laughed. “They speak pretty good English in Canada.”
Others in the room laughed, and Gina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Colonel Ito became serious again. “Signora Angelina Aleo. You need a means of support. What is it you do?”
Gina stammered, “I—ah . . .”
Señor Estevez intervened. “If I may, sir. I am responsible for Signora Aleo’s support until she obtains the proper papers that give her freedom to move around Manila. She has extensive experience in music and dance education. I expect she will very soon become a welcome contributing educator in our new great society.”
Gina’s jaw dropped in surprise. Señor Estevez had never shown interest in her future plans. She quickly closed her mouth.
Colonel Ito glanced at his watch. “Very well. Signora Aleo, step up here, please, and raise your right hand.” He read a short mandate for her to swear to, promising that she would be loyal to Japan and not collaborate with the enemy.
Along the Broken Bay Page 13