The House Of The Unholy

At the crack of dawn that cold September morning, people from all walks of life are already busy with their whereabouts by the crowded seaport. The cold wind mixed with the ocean breeze embraces the coastal town where nipa huts and bamboo shacks are scattered along the shore. Some are being illuminated by gas lamps, while others by torches lit beside the porches; but altogether, from across the sea, they lit up the seaport like fireflies. Though luminescent, their collective light pales in comparison to the emerging sunlight of the morning sun.

Across the wild open sea, the sound of the tidal waves crushing the seashore is muted by the noise of the busy marketplace with its people in their daily routine doing exactly what they did the day before and what they would still be doing for days that would come after:

A group of local old men settles at a far corner of the seaport selling kasag, a variety of crab infamous in this region in different sizes still trapped and cramming in containers; joined by a number of Chinese immigrants who settled on selling jars and porcelains as well as textiles from the mainland. Another group of local men are busy with offering jewelries ornamented with pearls and shells to women of wealth who have just come down off the boats who chose to ignore the rowdy vendors. To these ladies, they believed that these jewelries would not make them look like aristocrats for these jewels were not imported from Spain.

Not far from the other side of the market stands a group of small stalls manned by an old woman who sells varieties of fruits and other agricultural produce, root crops, coconut, and vegetables. Also on offer right at the corner, sweet potatoes; which the locals refer to as camotes are grilled on the spot which is best to be consumed while still hot. Though mostly known as a coastal town, farming is still widely practiced by the townsmen inlands.

Among the varieties of item on sale at the market place, seafood are the most abundant fresh off the vast ocean. On sale are different breed of fish in varying sizes still trapped in fishing nets, some are to be consumed raw, others are salted, some are even dried the day before. Scallops, clams, and oysters are also over pouring; men would whisked them with vinegar and sprinkled with salt. Even the scent of the air smells of the open sea with the scent of the vendors' sweat.

This market town, due to the fact that it sits right off the ocean, acts like a trading center of people coming from different regions in the South East and the locals, all seem to have their own unique items to sell. The town has a port for boats that transport passengers and local agricultural produce like rice, mangoes, pineapple and sugarcane to the island of Negros.

At every turn of the market place stands a group of Civil Guards over watching the mundane activities with some of them holding their cup of hot brewed coffee; while some are smoking cigar. The Civil Guards, armed with bayonets and some are armed with rifles, act like vultures inspecting corpses from the sky down the desert; making sure that the daily routine of the port and its people are unvaried and customary.

The patrons; who vary from Spanish noblemen; to the il.u.s.trados; down to the locals, are seen scrutinizing the items on offer in every stalls, nipa huts and bamboo shacks. Among them stands a young native man at the other end of the port. On his feet there lays his belongings – his leather bag and a parasol laying in the sand; on his hand there he holds a smaller leather bag and his hat. The young man has been observant on his surroundings as he can be seen peeking through the stalls in between him sipping from his cup of coffee.

"Not much has changed!" he muses to himself

"There is still that old Chinese jar vendor" he continues, "And it seems like he has not sold any since the last time I was here" he muses as he catches himself in mid laughter

The young lad stands out in the crowd for his calm demeanor is a stark contrast to the fast pacing lives surrounding him; similar to those bamboo rafts floating peacefully amidst the turmoil of tidal waves. His stance can be compared to those beach stones laying still in the sand ignoring the violent current running to and from the shore; a common trait among local men who have been fortunate enough to converge, acculturate and get educated in Manila. Mostly, he stands out in the crowd of other native men and women with his coat of dark brown color weaved silk, his black hair brushed to the side, and his shoes, leather and shined to a fault; all silently boast pedigree, yet equally peculiar for a native man to be dressed like a mestizo.

Unsure of the time that passed since he arrived at the port of Banate, the young lad checks his watch pocket which shows it is now thirty five minutes past six in the morning. The young man remains silent as he turns his head towards the group of young boys offering assistance to those people carrying their luggage to and from the boats.

Most of these boys end up being shooed away by the passengers, some are ignored, while the others would quickly turn their attention toward other passengers to continue in trying their luck of persuading the passengers to employ them.

As the young man takes another sip of coffee from his cup, he sees a carriage making its way to the shore coming off the main dirt road. Once the carriage makes its stop, an old man steps down and takes his hat off.

"Greetings, Segnor!," says the old man

As his eyes begin to smile, some fine lines beside it stretches widely; and his smile reveals missing front teeth while the remaining lower teeth are stained in black which might be from smoking tobacco

"Tatang Chuy!" the young man greets back, "it's been a long time"

The young man extends his hand to ask the old man's. He moves his head towards the elder's hand and bows as he presses his forehead on the elder's hand. Surprised and warmed by the gesture, the old man taps the young lad's shoulder and smiles as his crooked teeth makes another appearance

"I see you found yourself a cup of coffee, Segnor Teo" the old man starts

"It's being sold by that old woman" he pauses as he points towards the bamboo stall in the corner. "They still make the best in this region," Teo pauses again, as he sips another from his cup, "I have not had one this good back in the city," he continues

"Come, Segnor," Tatang Chuy offers to carry the young man's baggage

Teo hands the leather bag to the old man and the two of them make their way to the carriage, he notices the old man is having difficulty walking. Only now does he realize the old man is holding a crane to assist him as he walks. Despite it, the old man still finds time to smile at the young man the moment he realizes he sees his condition.

"I thought everything in Manila is better than what we offer in the province" the old man interrupts while he settles the luggage on to the carriage.

"I used to think the same," Teo muses as he makes his way up the carriage, "but my taste buds have always been faithful to its provincial roots. Besides, the city could not offer anything as fresh as what these locals offer here"

Tatang Chuy shortly follows and he sits opposite Teo and nudges at the cochero who has been awaken from his nap behind him. At the whip of the rein, the carriage begins driving away towards the dirt road

"Your foster father was looking forward to your return" Chuy pauses, "His death was very untimely" he continues in a somber tone

Teo looks far at the horizon and the sun has finally settled in reclaiming its place in the morning sky.

"It's been four years" Teo pauses, "Who would have guessed that the last time I visited was the last time I will see him… ever" he continues and begins to frown

He still remembers vividly the day he received the sad news of his foster father's passing. It was late in the afternoon when the Dominican friar; Fray Jacinto; the head of the Colegio de Farmacia in their University called on him to his receiving room. Upon entering the vast room, he knew something was not right, might be because of the way Fray Jacinto asked him calmly to recline on a chair; or must be with the way the other priests present in the room just stared at him quietly; all of their silence spoke of grief; like every one of them knew about something but are too afraid to deliver the sad news. Teo knew all along something terrible must have happened.

Then Fray Jacinto handed him the letter sent by Fray Luciano – the curate of the town of Pasi. He could not focus on the entirety of the letter, rather, he was only able to focus on one phrase that for him, seemed to be written in bigger fonts than the rest of the letters.

"Don Lorenzo has passed away!" says the phrase that stood out.

He read the letter over again, but still, these phrase stood out as if the other letters are too hazy or he just could not make sense of them at all except for that phrase that stood out. Teo accused himself of misreading the entirety of the letter which made him re-read the letter for the third time. All the while, he is secretly gasping for air, as if his lungs are contracting inside his c.h.e.s.t. His vision started turning nauseous; his face turned pale as if life has just escaped out of him. As he finished reading the letter for the third time, he was disappointed at realizing that he did not misunderstand the letter. It was what it was – Don Lorenzo, his foster father, the Captain of their town and the man who sent him to the university and financing his education has passed away!

At this realization, Teo looked up at the friars around him as if he was trying to search for an explanation from them but neither of them has the answer. Lastly, he looked at Fray Jacinto who, at that moment, was already reaching out his arms to him

"I'm sorry, Teo" the friar holds Teo's shoulder to console him, "The righteous perish, and no one takes it to heart; the devout are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death,"

Then the inevitable happened. The air that he has been struggling to find and hold on to had ran out. His eyes was too heavy to be kept still and open as if gravity had a sudden stronger pull on them; and finally, he felt cold wind blown on his spine rushing on his back. Cold and numbness scattered all over his body as he passed out.

Teo looks away from the horizon, away from the sun rays which begin blinding him after a moment of squinting to fight them off. The carriage makes it turn through a narrow road surrounded by rice fields

"He wanted to wait for you…" Tatang Chuy interrupts, "It was as if he could not close his eyes to an eternal rest without you by his side. But he knew he had to go for his frail body can only take so much!" Chuy ends, then a long moment of silence follows

Neither one of them can search for what to say next. Teo knew he wanted to be there at the interment of his foster father to pay not just his respect, but more to appreciate him for sending him to the University; for creating an end goal to his life to finish pharmacy and return to their town after. Mostly, for adopting him, giving him roof as shelter and food to flourish. On the day he received the news, he asked permission from Fray Jacinto to be able to go back to their province. Unfortunately, it was the start of the semester and if he will be allowed to go then he had to skip the entire semester.

As Teo looks out the carriage on to the green fields, he recalls six years ago, in the same carriage where he is seated now, where he was also seated on the same spot opposite his foster father. They were on the same dirt road only in reverse as they were on their way to the port of Banate as it was the day of him leaving for Manila to study Farmacia. The afternoon was so mushy then, but the depth of the Don's silence was earsplitting as he had never spoken a word since they left the stone house. He just sat there opposite Teo, his eyes fixed on the passing vast rice fields, seemed oblivious of his foster son who had been staring at him curiously.

Teo was at his most ambivalent state that moment. Part of him was mostly excited to set sails onto the wild seas and into the city, anticipating how the crowded place could be the exact opposite of their small town. How his life studying in the University would be like for the next six years. Another part of him was equally emotional for leaving, made worse by the silence of his foster father whom he interpreted as a hesitation on his part as if he was conveying through his stillness for Teo to not proceed. The Don's silence gave him a heavy feeling like there was a lump in his throat which made him replicate his father's quietness. It was as if he was just waiting for his foster father to finally snap and ask the coachman to turn the carriage around and drive back to the stone house.

Once Teo was at the boat which would transport him to the ship, the Don was still hushed, with his eyes squinted looking at the boat that was starting to fade out into the horizon. And when Teo was finally about to board the ship, with a final glance at the port, there he saw his foster father taking his hat off, clutched into it with his right hand. He could vaguely recall if he saw the Don nodded at him before he turned away and made his way into the crowd, easily got lost in them.

Teo snaps back to the present as the carriage enters a vast land of rice fields which seem to touch the horizon from where he is seated. On his left he could see the farm land being plowed by local men with aide from a carabao. Few native women on the other side of the rice fields are busying themselves in preparing a small table made of hard wood under the shade of a tree. On this table lay an assortment of fruits, some vegetables, cooked rice delicacy suman and a jar of water.

"Ah, the simplicity of provincial life" he murmurs to himself still looking at the farmers and their families

With these farmers wives, their little progenies are seen running b.a.r.e footed on the side of the road, along with them are stray dogs roaming the fields; chickens scatter feeding on fallen husks that had dried on the ground; and the chorus of their noises resonate through the farm echoing along with the noise of the passing carriage. Upon seeing the carriage passes by, the workers with their wives and children stop with their tasks and briefly gaze at those riding the carriage with innocence and envy on their faces.

"If only I could work at the Don's house instead of plowing mud and roots from this soil" muses one of the farmers;

"And be suspected of killing him too?!" quips the other, "many believed that the good Don was murdered mercilessly!" he continues

"Shhh, he died of a heart attack they said!" one of the farmer wives quickly shuts down the building tension among them while they all follow the moving carriage with their sight

At the end of the fields, the carriage enters a tall wooden fence; its wide gate hanging open. The fortress that holds the gate are covered with strayed vegetation and vines that have almost eaten up the entire walls. As the carriage makes its last turn, Teo can now see the old stone house from afar; its rusty roof, its stained brick walls, the deformed sliding windows and the broken marble staircase that connects the lawn to the front doors. The aged stone house speaks of its strains and flaws

At the lawn there gathers the staff; a number of servants, old men, some tall, others are fat; and an old slender woman standing at the corner with her gray hair covered in dark brown veil; all welcome the approaching carriage.

When the carriage stops, Tatang Chuy gestures for the muchachos to unload the baggage and assist Teo to come down the carriage. The old woman, excitedly runs to approach the young man and gives him warmest embrace. Teo smiles widely as he looks up the stained brick walls of the stone house; unto its deformed sliding windows.

"Finally!" he claims

"Welcome back, Segnor!" the old woman interrupts, "The Captain would have been happy!" she continues as she bursts into tears

The young man consoles the old woman and embraces her

"Hush Nanang Ditas, I am here" Teo exclaims softly and gently touches the old woman's shoulder.

Teo is elated at the sight of seeing familiar faces in front of him whom he has grown up with in the stone house. After few days of expedition in the wild seas; he is finally home; at the stone house which used to be his home for years. The place where he used to ran wildly along the halls through the asotea; bare-footed he recalls running through the hills and onto the rice fields

He looks back on the brick walls and on to the huge windows, he can see a shadow moving from one of the open windows on the wooden second floor. Unsure if it's a mere refraction of the sunlight against the capiz shell windows; or someone was really there couple of minutes ago looking down on them; but he is sure that he saw someone. A shadow of a woman moves along the dark gray curtains as the wind blows softly. Teo stares at the open window once again, and the curtains was still flowing along the blowing wind which he must have mistaken for a shadow of a woman.