by J. E. Park
“How?”
“You said that you didn’t know if you could handle people wondering if you were with a whore. What about if you were here? In the Philippines? It’s different here, especially around Olongapo. People look at a person like Tala on your arm, and they’re almost rooting for her. ‘Hey! Look at her! Homegirl did good! Married herself a rich American! She’s moving up in the world!’ Things like that are so common in these parts; people don’t even think twice about it.”
“And what would I do here?”
Darrow dropped his cigarette into the soda can he was using as an ashtray. “You got any plans tomorrow?”
“Not particularly,” I said. “No.”
“Good,” my master chief replied. “I got something to show you. I’ll swing by your place when I leave the ship. Have Tala keep Mari home from school. We’re going to take another road trip. It’s not too far away, but I think it might be right up your alley.”
*****
Staying in the Philippines…
It sounded like a good idea at the time, but I had to wonder if it was what I wanted. Was Tala what I wanted? She was gorgeous, and I enjoyed spending time with her, but the truth was that my desire to be with her had more to do with Mari than it did with Tala. I did not want that little girl following her mother into the sex trade. I wanted to give her a fighting chance at a better life. I did not see Tala and me spending nights under the stars discussing philosophy like Hannah and I once did.
As I walked into the radar repair shop, Rick Hammond was there playing video games. “Hey Doyle,” he said. “You got a letter. It’s on your desk.”
That surprised me. After four years in the Navy, I had never received mail before. Looking down, I spotted an envelope with blue and red stripes along the edges, indicating it was international post. Picking it up and flipping it over, I saw that it was from Yukiko Fukuyama back in Japan. My heart started to race. Yukiko was someone I could lie on the beach and discuss the cosmos with. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath.
It was not the reaction Rick expected to hear from me. “I figured that of all people, you would be thrilled to get a letter,” Hammond said. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” I tore open the envelope and sat down at my desk to read the note inside.
Dear Doyle,
I am so sorry it took me so long to write to you. It was tough to get your address. Steve Morgan at Shooter’s Bar helped me a lot. I hate to admit this, but we figured out how to write you from a couple of angry American ladies who were in his place. They were looking to get back at their husbands for cheating on them in the Philippines.
I wanted you to know that I have not been able to stop thinking about the day that poor boy was killed in the park. I was so proud of you for what you did to save his life. I am so sorry that it did not work. I have been thinking about you a lot since that day, and I wonder if you are thinking of me too.
Doyle, I am looking forward to seeing you when you get back to Japan. I pass the base every day when I come home from work, and I always look to see if your ship is here yet. When I see your ship come in, I will wait at the Albuquerque Bridge at 6 pm for a little while. If you want to see me, meet me there.
I hope you are having fun in the Philippines, but not as much fun as the husbands of the ladies I met at Shooters.
I miss you and hope to see you soon!
With Love,
Yukiko
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I growled as I leaned back in my seat, reaching to light another cigarette.
“What’s wrong?” Hammond asked, keeping his eyes riveted to his game on TV. “What was in the letter?”
“An option that really complicates my life right now.”
*****
When Master Chief Darrow and I crossed the bridge over Shit River the following morning, a hired jeepney was already waiting for us. In it were Lorna and little Bradley, Tala, and Mari. A half-hour later, we were on the coast in the general vicinity of a sleepy little village called San Felipe. There was nothing in sight but a pair of fishing catamarans further up the coast.
It was a beautiful place with a spacious sugar sand beach. The row of coconut palms at the end of it was so thick we could not even see the road from the water. Traffic was sparse, and the entire area seemed deserted. With lush, verdant mountains behind us and nothing but blue ocean before us, we were standing on an unspoiled parcel of paradise.
I was still admiring the view when Sergeant Tejada arrived with his wife and kids in his marked patrol vehicle. “Hey, Doyle!” TJ called to me as they got out of the Jeep. “What you t’ink about dis place?”
“It’s beautiful!” I answered, shouting to be heard above the wind. “The water’s a bit rough, though! I wish I had a surfboard!”
TJ and Darrow grinned at me. Tejada reached into the back of his Jeep and pulled out a six-foot board, throwing it in my direction. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed. “Where the hell did you find this?”
“It be in da station por a long time. I t’ink it recovered in theft investigation or somet’ing. Da owner probably a tourist who go home long bepore we pind dis t’ing. No one ever claim it, so we use it prom time to time.”
I was like a kid at Christmas, grabbing the board and running out into the surf. Once I got out a bit, the breaks were quite respectable, coming in at the highest end of my skill level. Still, as clumsy as I knew I was out there, I was a point break superhero to all the kids on the beach. They cheered and applauded every time I caught a wave and laughed their little butts off every time I wiped out.
After a couple of hours of surfing, we moved down to a calmer stretch of ocean, and I tried to teach a couple of TJ’s kids how to ride. When they gave up, I took the younger ones out bodyboarding. We eventually broke for lunch and drifted into the village. San Felipe was just large enough to serve street food, but rural enough that we could still feed six adults and five children for less than twenty dollars.
When we finished eating, we drove the kids to a spot where they could swim without clinging to an adult for dear life. The women and children went right for the water while the three of us men hung back. Opening a beer apiece and passing them around, Darrow asked, “So, what do you think, Doyle? How’s the surfing?”
I took a drink of San Miguel and shrugged. “Well, it’s not going to attract any international competitions or anything, but it’s plenty enough to have some fun in.”
“Even for experienced surfers?”
I looked over the waves and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just challenging enough to have a good time while you’re partying. It’s a bit light for someone serious about it, though. Are the waves always like this?”
Tejada shrugged. “Sometime bigger. Sometime smaller. Depend on time op da year.”
Nodding, I said, “It usually does.”
“You think it has what it takes to be a destination? For surfing?” Darrow asked.
I scanned the area and pressed my lips together. “It’s really beautiful here, but it’s a bit light on infrastructure. There’s nowhere for anyone to stay. Not much in the way of nightlife. You guys thinking of building something here?”
My master chief grinned. “It’s for sale. What do you think it would take to get surfers out this way?”
I shrugged. “As far as infrastructure? Less than you would think. I’ve heard some of the surf gypsies in Ocean Beach rave about going to Central America. There they stay in bamboo shacks right on the sand on the Pacific coast of Nicaragua. Give them a thatch roof with a single light bulb, a mattress with mosquito netting, a fan, and access to a freshwater shower and you’ll about have it covered. Hell, even in California, they’ll party until they pass out in the sand, and let me tell you, the nights get pretty goddamn cold in OB.”
“What else you t’ink we need?” asked Sergeant Tejada.
“Well, a bar, for sure. Something to eat. The bank of food carts like we had lunch at would do just fine.” I looked at
Sergeant Tejada. “And you would need a somewhat relaxed attitude when it came to certain recreational substances. Look, these people aren’t usually coke heads and they certainly aren’t putting needles in their arms. If surfers don’t have easy access to marijuana, though, they aren’t going to bother coming. Letting them get their hands on the occasional magic mushroom wouldn't hurt either. You think you could get your buddies on the force to keep their distance from these guys, Sergeant?”
Tejada smiled and pulled a pack of Marlboros out of his pants pocket. He then withdrew something out of it that most certainly was not a cigarette. Lighting it up, he took a massive drag off of it and passed it over to Master Chief Darrow while holding the smoke in. “I no t’ink I get any problem prom da police, Doyle.”
Darrow took a long hit off of the joint, too, before passing it to me. “You want in on this?”
“The pot or the business you guys are talking about?”
“Both.”
I took the blunt and looked at it for a moment. “It’s been an awful long time since I did this shit. What if I get popped on a piss test?”
My master chief shrugged. “Then I’ll cover your share to get into our business. They’ll throw you out of the Navy, and you’ll have to get started here a little earlier than planned.”
I looked at the joint and then back at my master chief. “Fuck it,” I said as I took my first spliff hit in more than five years. “How much is this plan of yours going to cost?”
“A lot,” the master chief said.
“You have enough?”
Darrow shook his head. “Not yet, but TJ and I have something in the works.”
My spidey-senses started to tingle. “What?”
“You’ve got to tell me you’re in with us before I get into that. And I want you to think about it for a while first. This isn’t something you’re going to want to rush into.”
I looked the two men over as I passed Tejada the weed. Having been in the Philippines for a month now, I realized that TJ and my master chief were hitting far above my weight class. It was no secret that both of them bent the rules with little hesitation. They had been doing it for decades and, as far as I knew, had never been called to the carpet for it. They seemed to know what they were doing. The question was, did I?
My instincts were screaming at me to run away and refuse outright, but I looked over at Mari playing in the surf with her mother. I pictured her ending up desperate enough one day to accept a job singing for tips in a Barrio Barretto bikini bar.
When the joint made its way back to me again, I took an even bigger hit off of it than I did the first time. “Say I did tell you that I wanted in. What would it take?”
“Well, for starters, it would take that fifty grand you have in Panama,” Darrow told me. “That should get a couple of cabanas built and buy you a share in the bar that we need to set up. You would also need to travel a bit to spread the word about this place. Thailand. Bali. Australia. Wherever it is those surf gypsies you were talking about go. That’s as much as I’m willing to say until I get your decision.”
It might have been the weed, but I saw Darrow let his guard down and flash Tejada a very large grin when they thought I was not looking. The sergeant smiled back. They knew that I was already in. Even if I didn’t.
*****
.
CHAPTER 25
S an Felipe was the high-water mark of my time in the Philippines. It was another perfect day, but after that, every ticking second was a reminder of how soon we would be leaving. Elena and Anna had already moved out, making our apartment seem much emptier. With Dixie and Bard on duty the day after my trip to the ocean, I hosted Darrow and Tejada for a quiet night in to talk. After a few beers, we were taking stock of our time in Subic Bay.
Lorna was sitting on the living room couch, speaking with Tala. Mari was keeping Little Bradley occupied on the floor. I saw Lorna steal a peek at Master Chief Darrow with glassy eyes. The look on her face betrayed that she wondered if her boy’s father would be coming back as he promised. I had not made Tala any such assurances, but I had been sensing that she was hoping for one, too. I wondered if she knew what Darrow had offered me.
“I sorry we no catch your boss in Pagsanjan,” TJ told my master chief as we sat at my kitchen table.
Darrow grimaced. “I’m not done with that son-of-a-bitch yet. You ever straighten out those fuckers over there, TJ?”
The sergeant nodded. “Yep. We still get not’ing, dough. We pucked up a couple op da gang boys pretty bad. Dey keep saying dat dere no military guys going to Pagsanjan por da kids. Dey snapping pictures op anybody dey pind dat look American. Dey try to give us somet’ing, anyt’ing, to keep us prom coming back. Dey just come up empty.”
“You believe them?” Darrow asked.
Tejada nodded. “I do.”
“Maybe you were wrong, Master Chief,” I said. “Maybe Krause isn’t as depraved as you think.” I, for one, was relieved that American military men were not visiting that vile place.
Darrow shook his head. “No, I’m positive he got tipped off. I know he’s spending time with that missionary group. I’m almost certain that the prick you knocked out in the alley somehow got word to him that we were out there. He knows I’m on to his particular flavor of kink. That’s why he’s so desperate to shut me up. Why else would he send someone to snuff me out?”
Tejada pointed his finger at my master chief. “You don’t know it was him dat do dat, Bradley. You got a lot op enemies in Olongapo. I can t’ink op so many people who like to hurt you dat I can’t even investigate dem all. It too bad Rickie Ibay died. I never know who behind dat now.”
“I’m telling you, TJ, that prick Krause did it. That man has a hard-on for me like you would not believe. It’s been driving me nuts trying to figure out why, but I’m convinced that this guy thinks I wronged him in some way. He’s trying to get me to pay for it.”
“But to da point op trying to kill you, Bradley? C’mon! He an oppicer in da United States Navy! He not some crime boss out dere putting contracts on da people who work por him!”
“You remember Wayne Pomeroy, TJ?”
“Who?”
“Chief Pomeroy. He was the guy who found out his wife was fucking a Marine major out of Cubi Point. You could not have found a more model sailor, TJ. This guy was a Mormon. He didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke, and even while we were arresting him, he couldn’t even bring himself to swear. The guy was in church every Sunday. This man went through his entire life and never even got himself a traffic ticket. Four hours after discovering his wife is getting some on the side, though, he found some barrio rat to slit her throat from ear to ear. All it took was three hundred dollars. During his interrogation, we found out that he was waiting for payday to hire someone to take care of the major, too. That would have been five hundred.”
Darrow took a sip of San Miguel. “TJ, that mama’s boy had no street smarts whatsoever. Even he found a junkie derelict to snuff a woman and an American military officer for less than a thousand bucks, though. I’m sure Krause could, too.”
Sergeant Tejada nodded. “Yeah, I remember dat guy now. I peel sorry por dey kids. Still, Bradley, dis no peel right. My instinct telling me you wrong.”
“My instincts are telling me I’m right! Do you know Lieutenant Krause, TJ?”
The sergeant shook his head. “No. I never meet him.”
“Well, I sit next to the son-of-a-bitch every goddamn day. Do you trust my instincts?”
The sergeant looked at Darrow for a long moment, remembering all the time he had spent with him. The AFPD and the PNP worked hand in glove with each other. They had been through a lot together. Tejada knew that there were few policemen whose instincts were more reliable than Darrow’s. “Yes, Bradley. I trust your instincts.”
“Then put your back into working this angle, Rico. We need to get this cocksucker before he gets me. Understand?”
*****
As much as I enjoyed the company o
f Sergeant Tejada and my master chief, I wanted to spend time with Tala and Mari. I tried easing my guests out of the apartment by nine. When everybody got to the door, however, Tala and Lorna suddenly discovered that they had so much more to talk about. Instead of standing there staring at them, we made our way outside for some fresh air. Once on the other side of the gate, standing on the sidewalk, we lit cigarettes while we waited for my master chief’s girlfriend.
We were three days from departure. Darrow and Tejada were making plans to meet each other one last time the following afternoon. As they talked, I caught myself impatiently staring up and down the road, wondering what was taking Lorna so long. As my gaze glanced across the street, I noticed movement in the narrow space between the sari-sari store opposite our apartment and the house standing next to it. At first, I thought it was monkeys getting into the garbage again. When I stepped forward to get a better look, however, I did not find a renegade macaque scrounging for a late-night meal. Instead, I made eye contact with a young boy hiding in the shadows. As I tried to figure out what he was doing there, I saw him panic. He rushed to lift a bandana up over his nose and then pulled a revolver from his waist. When he lifted the weapon and pointed it in our direction, it was my turn to panic.
“MASTER CHIEF!” I screamed, leaping at Darrow and tackling him to the ground. As we hit the sidewalk, the boy’s weapon roared from the far side of the road. The stucco wall exploded above our heads as it absorbed the bullets, showering the three of us below with dust and chips of plaster. Tejada dropped to his knees and went for his own gun to return fire. Caught completely off-guard and having had a little too much to drink, he fumbled to get his weapon out of its holster. As shots continued to ring out, he had to give up for a moment and roll toward the curb to get to better cover behind one of the parked cars. The master chief and I followed him.
The kid was coming at us gangster-style, holding his weapon one-handed and aiming sideways. That saved our lives. Firing a revolver that way may have looked cool in the movies, but in reality, it was awkward and offered no muzzle control. It made it very difficult for a boy that small to pull the trigger on a gun that big. It also made hitting a moving target damn near impossible.