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Love Beyond: Walang Hanggang Pagmamahal

Page 9

by Grant Leishman


  He lay a little longer in the bath, just allowing the picture of Minda’s face to play across his mind. There was something about that girl that had ignited a fire deep inside of him. He was attracted to her exotic beauty, of course, and he would be foolish to deny there wasn’t a lust in his loins for her, but there was something more, an indefinable quality in her that was drawing him in, like a moth to a flame. He just hoped he didn’t get close enough to get burnt by it.

  By the time he’d pulled himself out of the tub, he was laughing at the idiocy of his thoughts, but he knew one thing for sure, the business between him and Luzviminda Torres was far from finished. That thought alone brought a warm feeling to his stomach and a smile to his face.

  ***

  LUZVIMINDA:

  Minda had no need to awaken at eleven-thirty, to prepare for her midnight rendezvous with Artie. She hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, her mind full of the possibilities that the next few months might hold for her. Oh, she wasn’t stupid – she knew there were risks in what she was about to embark on. She only had to think about poor, little Kris to realise that, but there was something else beyond the danger that enticed her. Minda felt that somehow this was her destiny. All her reading of Rizal and the other patriots had brought her to where she was today, about to embark on a career that could change the destiny of her country. A mixture of pride, exhilaration, anticipation, and just a dash of naked terror made up the ingredients for her to become a member of the legendary KKK.

  At a quarter to midnight, she crept out of bed and slid her narrow frame, on her belly, through the window, landing on the sandy ground outside arms first and completing a perfect forward roll to end up on her feet. The night was one of those glorious summer evenings, where a billion stars danced and twinkled across the firmament, a warm breeze keeping the evening comfortable. The moon was barely a quarter moon, but with no clouds, it provided just enough light for Minda to see where she was going. She crept around to the front of the house and out the gate, where she stumbled over Artie, who was squatting down waiting for her.

  Jumping to his feet, he greeted her with a quick kiss to her cheek, causing Minda to recoil from him. She could see, even in the half-light that she had hurt his feelings with her abrupt pull-back. Struggling with what to say, she knew she couldn’t afford to allow Artie to get the wrong idea about her feelings and about ‘them’. Unsure what to do for the best, she finally leant in slightly and returned his kiss, with a light peck to his cheek, which immediately drew an enormous smile from the previously sullen boy. Making a mental note to herself that she needed to deal with Artie’s obvious infatuation sooner rather than later, she resolved to talk to him seriously, about this issue, on their way home. For now, Artie grabbed her hand and half-dragging her, whispered, “come on Mind, it’s not far to the meeting place, but we don’t want to be late, that’s for sure.”

  She allowed him to lead her down the lane and onto the main road heading into town. They had only gone about fifty metres down the road when Artie pulled her into a rice field and began to run along the beaten path, between two fields, toward the hills in the distance. Minda was struggling to keep up and keep her balance on the narrow path. “Artie,” she beseeched, “slow down, please, or I’m going to fall in the bloody field. How much further do we have to go?”

  Artie turned and faced her, “the meeting is being held in Victor Cruz’s old farmhouse, just behind the trees over there. Come on then, we’re almost there.” But, before he turned to continue their journey, his eyes narrowed and his forehead creased in thought. Minda was about to ask him what was wrong, when, without warning, he threw his arms around her neck, pulled her in close to him and kissed her fully and openly on her lips. So stunned by this development, Minda didn’t move for a few seconds, as Artie continued to press his lips hard against hers. It was only when she felt his tongue thrusting against her lips, seeking entrance that she reacted. Not wanting to hurt Artie and also not wanting to be late for the meeting, she just pulled her head back from his questing tongue and mouthed the words, “no Artie, not now!”

  His eyes returned to normal and he released her slowly, a triumphant smile creasing his face. “I do love you, Minda,” he repeated from the afternoon. She cringed inwardly but tried to keep her true emotions from her face. We have so got to have that talk on the way home, Artie, she thought to herself.

  Surreptitiously wiping her lips with her sleeve, she just said. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Let’s just get to the meeting first.”

  When they arrived at the old farmhouse, it was clear there were a great many people gathered. The oil lamps cast many shadows on the walls of the farmhouse and as Artie raised his hand to knock on the door, it was flung open and Carlos, his older brother grabbed him in a bear-hug exclaiming, “Artie, you made it, good lad.” Looking at Minda, he added, “and I see you brought the delectable Luzviminda with you, also. Excellent!” Minda’s cheeks coloured red at the comment and she was grateful Carlos could not see the effect his words had on her. She had always had a little bit of a crush on Artie’s older brother and despite their age difference, there had been a time when she’d daydreamed about what could be, between the pair of them.

  “Come in, come in,” Carlos entreated. He stood aside and waved them into the room. “The meeting is just about to start.”

  As she entered the farmhouse, she stared around the room at those in attendance. She was shocked to realise that she knew most of the people there. It seemed like almost half the town had turned out for this secret meeting. She nodded at many of those who she knew, as she and Artie sought somewhere to stand amongst the crowd. Artie leant over and whispered in her ear. “They have one of the local leaders here to talk to us tonight, one of the members of the ruling council apparently. Carlos told me his name was Ladislao Diwa, but I have to admit I’ve never heard of him before. Oh well, we’ll just have to see what he has to say, I guess.”

  Minda couldn’t help but notice that there were very few girls, like her, present. She spotted only a group of three girls in the far corner of the room. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t place them at all. Looking a couple of years older than her, she surmised they must have been ahead of her at school and although she sort of recognised them by sight, she had no idea of their names. I wonder, she thought, are these the girls that are going to get intelligence by sleeping with the Spanish soldiers? She reaffirmed in her own mind, that she would never do that, no matter how important the leaders tried to tell her it was. Unless... and her mind trailed off into fantasy again as Hernando’s aristocratic profile filled her head and weakened her knees.

  Jerking back to reality, at Artie’s soft words, she wondered what it was he had said but was too ashamed of her lascivious thoughts to ever consider asking him to repeat it. Instead, she gave him a cursory nod of her head, as if in agreement and focused her eyes firmly on the head table, where several men, she didn’t recognise, were seated. The buzz of excitement that resonated around the crowded room was infectious and Minda couldn’t help but be caught up in it. She wanted this to get underway. She wanted to belong to the Katipunan. She wanted to fight the accursed Spaniards. Finally, she was rewarded, as one of the men at the head table stood up and bellowed for order. As the constant buzz began to die down, to a gentle murmur, the speaker was introduced. Minda was razor-focused on his words.

  For just on two hours, she didn’t move a muscle, as she stood mesmerised by the powerful oratory of this little man, who was introduced as Ladislao Diwa. When he had finished speaking, with a call to the villagers to unite and fight for freedom, for dignity, and for independence, the room absolutely erupted. Swept along by the passion of the rhetoric, Minda was jumping and shouting along with the best of them. Diwa, stood motionless, soaking up the accolades, until eventually, he raised his arms, appealing for the crowd to calm down and quieten down. Stating that his primary purpose there, that evening, was to induct new members into their glorious KKK, he instructed anyo
ne who wanted to become a member, to assemble outside at the rear of the farmhouse. Minda didn’t even give the matter a second thought and without checking with Artie she immediately followed the ten or so people out the door and around the back of the farmhouse. She had never before felt such feelings of empowerment. She knew, to the depths of her soul that this evening her life would change irrevocably and forever. Her body was trembling with excitement.

  As the group, which now numbered around twenty-five assembled at the back of the farmhouse, it was Artie’s brother who addressed them. Artie had chased after her and was now standing beside her, possessively holding onto one elbow, an action that disturbed Minda no end, but one she was loath to say anything about, just yet and ruin the incredible excitement and atmosphere of the moment. Carlos handed out some sheets with the initiation procedure on it and told them to study it carefully for the next ten minutes, before reassembling just outside the door to the farmhouse.

  In order to get enough light to read the instructions, they all trooped back inside and Minda was surprised to see that the many existing members of the KKK had already left for their homes. The only people remaining were Senor Diwa, Carlos and two other men who were obviously there to help with the initiation. As she studied the required responses from the initiation sheet, she felt a tug on her left elbow. Looking up, she realised she was gazing into the deep, dark brown eyes of Carlos. He was so cute, she thought, with that little curl of hair, flicking up from his forehead and almost curling into a whirl. She smiled at him, but with his face looking serious, he indicated with a flick of his head, she should come away and talk to him.

  “Minda,” he began, “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but the Katipunan has a rule about its female members. You have to be a daughter, a wife, or a sister, of an existing member, to be admitted into the Society.”

  Her hand went over her mouth, “but Carlos, none of my brothers is in this, as far as I’m aware and certainly my Papa would never be a part of all this.” Unbidden, tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes and threaten to fall down her face.

  He patted her arm consolingly. “Don’t worry Minda, we’ve got it covered. Now, it doesn’t mean anything and it’s not real, so don’t go getting upset about it or anything, but I told Senor Diwa that you and Artie are engaged to be married and will be very soon. He agreed you could join on that basis.”

  Her head was reeling at the implications of what Carlos was saying. This is not good! she thought, especially in light of Artie’s recent declarations of love. Oh my God, we are so, so, going to have to have that talk on the way home. I can’t let this get out of hand. Still, her desire to be part of the liberation fight was more powerful than any concerns about Artie’s teenaged fantasies and she knew she could handle his ardour, should the need arise. Smiling back at Carlos, she proclaimed, “no worries – whatever is necessary to fight the bastard Spaniards, I’ll do. I’m in all the way, Carlos.”

  Patting her on her back approvingly, he led her back to the other initiates who by this time had assembled outside the door of the farmhouse, which was then closed behind them. After being taken around the back of the farmhouse, Minda was surprised to find a blindfold being put around her head. She was then led back around to the doorway, where the blindfold was removed. Glancing up, she noticed a banner had been placed above the doorway, which read:

  ‘Kung may lakás at tapang, ìkaw'y makatutuloy’ (If you have strength and valour you can proceed).

  ‘Kung ang pag-uusisa ang nagdalá sa iyó dito'y umurong ka’ (If what has brought you here is only curiosity – go away).

  “Kung di ka marunong pumigil ng̃ iyong masasamang hilig, umurong ka; kailan man ang pintuan ng̃

  May-kapangyarihan at Kagalanggalang Katipunan ng̃ mg̃á Anak ng̃ Baya'y hindi bubuksan nang dahil sa iyó’ (If you cannot control your vices, retire. Never shall the doors of the Supreme and Venerable Society of the Sons of the People be opened to you).

  Minda, Artie, and one other boy, who she knew by sight, were then taken into the candle-lit room and lined up in front of a table, on which sat, a skull and a ‘bolo’ (a large cutting knife similar to a machete). In unison, they repeated the answers to the questions, posed by Senor Diwa.

  “In what condition did the Spaniards find the Tagalog land when they came?”

  They answered: “When the Spaniards came to the Philippine shores on March 16, 1521, the Filipinos were already in a civilized state. They had freedom of government; they had artillery; they had silk dresses; they had carried on commerce with Asia; they had their own religion and their own alphabet. In short, they had liberty and independence.”

  “In what condition do they find themselves now?”

  They answered: "The Friars have not really civilized the Filipinos since enlightenment was contrary to their interests. The Filipinos (called Tagalogs by the Katipunan) were merely superficially taught formulas of Catechism for which they paid numerous costly fiestas for the benefit of the friars."

  “What hopes do they have for the future?”

  They answered: “With faith, valour, and perseverance, these evils will be remedied.”

  Having performed the ceremony, Senor Diwa then addressed the three neophytes. He told them if they lacked courage, they should withdraw now as cowards had no place in this patriotic society. Ladislao Diwa then instructed the three to turn around. When Minda, spun around she was surprised to realize the people who she thought had returned home, had actually not and were back in the room.

  After being blindfolded again the trio was subjected to a number of ordeals, by the members of the Society. These included Minda being handed a supposedly loaded revolver and instructed to point it in a certain direction and pull the trigger. She was literally shaking at the thought that she might injure or worse kill someone, but the click of the hammer hitting an empty chamber, gave her an immense sigh of relief. She was also instructed to hold her hand over what she was told was a hot flame from a candle. Fortunately, it was just a test to ensure her courage and one she passed with flying colours.

  The final part of the initiation involved a blood pact. The ‘bolo’ was removed from the table and held over her arm. She scrunched up her face and gritted her teeth, waiting for the pain, as the sharp blade sliced into her tender, young flesh. As the blood dripped down onto the oath of allegiance, Minda used her finger to symbolically sign her pledge to her Society, in blood.

  With the ceremony thankfully over, Minda was now a full-fledged member of the Katipunan and was warmly received with cheers and welcoming hugs by the existing members. She was a little overwhelmed by the events of the past three hours and felt immensely tired. Seeking out Artie, she whispered to him that she was going to go home and get some rest. He informed her, she couldn’t leave yet, as the local leader, Isko Morales, still needed to talk to her about the layout of the Spanish Camp.

  After spending another hour, drawing a detailed map of what she knew of the Spanish encampment and explaining what she could remember of the various locations, she and Artie finally were given the all clear to head home.

  The dawn was just beginning to light the eastern sky and Minda was extremely concerned she wouldn’t make it home in time and back into her bed before she was discovered missing. She knew there were lots to talk about with Artie, especially the revelation that as far as the KKK was concerned, she and Artie were engaged. What a mess, she thought. But, there was no time for any discussion, they had to get home and quickly. They ran the entire way home and Artie followed her around the back of the house to give her a hand to climb back into her bedroom window. As she motioned for him to make a platform of his hands, so she could step on it and climb through the window, he grabbed her again and tried to kiss her. She forcefully pulled his hands down from around her neck and grabbed his wrists so tightly, he winced. Speaking slowly and softly she said, “Artie... we need to talk... but there is to be none of this until we talk... okay?” Artie giggled and leant in, trying to
sneak a kiss despite his hands being trapped by her. “ARTIE!... do I make myself clear?” He sighed loudly but nodded his head slowly.

  “We will talk about it though, won’t we Minda? You promised.”

  Give me strength, she thought, from hormone-driven young men, but she forced a smile onto her lips and nodded. “Yes, Artie, we will talk about this, soon.” That was enough for him, for now, and he offered his hands for her to climb onto.

  Although she was exhausted, she knew there was probably only thirty minutes before she would have to be up, so she lay back in her bed and instead of sleeping, revelled in the thought that finally her life had some meaning, finally it had some direction. She was now a member of the Kataastaasan, Kagalanggalangang, Katipunan and she Luzviminda Torres was going to be a part of winning independence for her great country, from the oppressors of Spain.

  The pride swelled in her breast, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared, to be replaced by the image of her beautiful Hernando. Sadly, she was going to war with the man she thought she was probably in love with. “Oh, what sadness this is,” she whispered into the lightening room.

  ***

  HERNANDO:

  Hernando was still troubled by the memory of the unarmed young man he had butchered by running him through with a sword. These days his dreams, if they were not of Minda, were of that young man’s face, his unmarked, youthful, face that stared back at him with those accusing, blank eyes. He performed his daily duties, as if in a catatonic state – doing what was required of him, but taking in nothing and at times it almost felt like he was having an “out of body” experience. He often found himself drifting away, in his mind; picturing Luzviminda in his minds-eye and dreaming of their future together, as he idly watched himself perform his daily routine, detached and in an alternate reality.

  His men had definitely noticed the change in the young officer and rumours of Hernando’s mental state were beginning to make the rounds. The more experienced and battle-hardy soldiers had seen it all before. They even had a term for it – “tropical fever”. They had seen a number of their colleagues and even some of the officers succumb to the insidious condition over the years. Some people, it seemed, just lacked the constitution to handle life in the tropics, so far away from the comforts and love of home. It appeared, to them, that Hernando may indeed be one of those sad souls. One of the more entrepreneurial of the corporals was even running a book on what Hernando would do, once he truly flipped out, as the general consensus seemed to be was the inevitable conclusion of tropical fever. The most popular of the bets received thus far suggested that Hernando would desert and head for the hills – “go bush” as the soldiers liked to term it. So wrapped up in his own world of pain was Hernando, that he was totally unaware of their opinions. It was inevitable, of course, that their feelings would eventually find their way to the Commandante’s ears. It was no surprise to anyone, therefore, except Hernando, when he was summoned to the Commandante’s office, in the middle of a long and tiresome parade drill.

 

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