When the Elephants Dance (58 page)

I pull out my pistol and study the handle, but my ears are vigilant.

Nina chuckles. “That was because you were in command, nothing more. You thought there was more?” she asks without pity.

T
HEY HAVE CLEARED
the cave without my request. The remaining men excuse themselves to get ready for the evening. A light rain patters in the distance. I stand outside and let the rain fall like tears down my face and study the land below. Down there my people are dying. I shut my eyes and retreat into the cave. There is a small cove within, a small indentation along the rock formation, big enough to fit two bodies lying side by side comfortably. It curves deep into the wall like the place on a woman where the collarbones dip and meet. This is where I sleep when I need my peace. “Hello, old friend,” I say to my mat and large velvet blanket. The blanket is a frivolous gift Palaka once stole from my father’s home.

Long ago, before the dog disappeared, I would find him here curled up on top of the blanket. I would feign anger as the mongrel stretched leisurely, then slunk off to the corner until I called him back to me. I remember the mat would be warm from his old, brittle body. Each time I left I made sure they gave him free rein of my quarters. At times I think he will appear in the middle of the night as he used to and curl up at my feet. I still look for him every now and then. I still catch his figure out of the corners of my eyes when I first walk into the cave. Whether it is his ghost or my memory I do not know. I did not realize I could miss an animal so much. Never had I seen a dog so unafraid of explosions. Palaka liked to joke that it was not bravery but deafness that caused the dog to carry himself so, but he always came at my low whistle.

“What are you smiling at?” Nina asks, approaching on bare feet.

“I was remembering Pogi. How he would humor me by acting the obedient dog.”

“Remember when he ate Palaka’s prized catch? Before he could even brag to anyone of the fish he caught.” She covers her mouth with mirth and comes to sit facing me with her knees tucked close to her chest and her slender arms hugging them.

“Yes, and I told him he’d better not hurt the dog because the dog was his only witness to the fish he’d reportedly caught. That beast ate it whole, bones and all. He was truly a scavenger.”

“Yes, just like us.” Nina nods.

I watch her thoughtfully. The things she says at times, though she does not realize it, endear her more to me. Lorna would never call herself a scavenger,
not even in jest. But then Lorna does not know how to joke so well. She comes from a long line of frowners.

“And now what do you smile at?” she asks.

“Why have you not worn that dress I brought back for you a month ago?”

“The red one?” she asks, her pale gold eyes round with surprise.

“I have brought you others?” I laugh.

“No, just the one. But I have no use for it at the present time. I thought to wear the dress after the war. Remember, you promised to take me dancing and then for a carriage ride and a stroll near the
luneta
during Pasco. How fun that will be with all the lights and the paper stars lit up. The war will be over by then.”

“Christmastime is still a long way,
mahal
. It is only February. I would like to see you in this dress before then. Think of it as practice.”

“Now?” she asks with a giggle.

I nod. “Please.”

She opens her mouth as if to protest, then laughs and shouts over her shoulder as she gets up, “Stay where you are.”

S
HE RETURNS WITH
the smell of the flowered soap I have procured from the Manila Hotel filling the air. Her hair is damp and left down, not pulled from her face, as is her usual style. She carries a lantern in one hand. The dress is Spanish style, which is why I stole it in the first place. It reminded me of her. It is sleeveless, with a low neckline, ruffled at the edge, tied in the middle of the chest, allowing for a teardrop outline of skin, and belted at the waist. She has pulled down the ruffles to reveal her shoulders. The color is deep crimson and enhances the fairness of her skin. Her ankles seduce me as she turns on tiptoes. The smile leaves my face and I am, as always, in awe of her beauty. How could I have ever thought another could take her place?

“Come sit beside me and let us pretend for a while we are somewhere else.”

“Tell me again about the farm we shall have,” she says happily.

I trace a finger down her neck to her shoulder, and she shudders. “We will find one that is close to Boracay beach. In the daytime we shall work our land side by side, with the sun coppering our faces.”

“And in the evenings?” Her voice grows deeper.

“In the evenings we’ll walk the white sand beaches of Boracay and build small fires to toast our feet.”

“Yes, and what else?” she asks.

I stop my dreaming at her tone and meet her eyes. I lean up on my elbows
and reach behind her neck to pull her close. She sighs and I inhale the sweetness of her and bring my lips to the middle of her neck. I touch my tongue to her skin, and she moans. Her tapered fingers come up behind me to caress my face and entwine themselves in my hair. She grips my hair and pulls my head back to trace her tongue upward to my lips, where I capture her mouth. She pushes me back down with one hand and straddles my waist. I look up as she reaches again into my eyes. It takes the breath from me. I’m shameless, unable to take my eyes away, unable to let the breath out. She brings her slender fingers to the ties at her neckline and pulls down slowly. The red dress falls over her shoulders to her waist. I pull her down to embrace her and take the tip of her breast in my mouth. I want to cry at the perfection of her.

“Never leave me,” I whisper. Always our coming together is desperate, fed on borrowed time. I blow out the candle and our hands swim in the dark over the ocean of our bodies.

L
ATER, WHEN WE
lie in the dark, she asks again, “And what else with the farm? What kinds of animals?” Before I can answer she says, “The first one shall be a dog. If Pogi does not find his way back,” she says, looking at me quickly. “If he does not return, I shall get a puppy for you. Would you like that?”

“I need no gifts with you by my side.”

She smiles. “We could save all our earnings from the fruit trees and go to Spain. I would like to visit her someday. To see where my other blood comes from.”

“Yes, but what if Spain does things to your mind? What if you also become interested in the men of your other blood? What if you decide to become a true Spaniard and marry only a Spanish man?”

“What? Domingo, surely you joke. I would abandon this skin for you. I am a hundred percent Filipino inside. How can you even say?”

I arrange the hair from her face. “I only joked,
mahal
. Your mixed blood is beautiful. It is part of you, and so I am biased to it.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, even with the many men who will certainly come to admire your beauty.” I pause, mulling over my statement. “Wait. I’ve decided we cannot go. I just remembered something.”

“What?” she gasps.

“I am jealous, after all.”

“No! You have already promised.” She laughs.

The sound of footsteps alerts me, and I throw a blanket over Nina. “What
is it?” I ask the dark. Nina pulls the red gown back on beneath our blanket and stands to put on my coat.

The footsteps hesitate. “I can come back.” It is Bartoy’s voice, near the entrance.

“No, come in, Bartoy. Is everything okay?” I ask.

He comes forward timidly. My eyes adjust to see his outline. “I cannot sleep. The woman and man today. Remember, Nina? The ones lying newly dead at the mouth of the river. They reminded me of my mother and father. I am afraid to sleep.”

“Then come here,” Nina says. “Talk to us. We cannot rest, either.” She lights the lantern once again.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course, “I answer. “After all, this is how it will be on our farm. The three of us under the same roof. Or have you changed your mind?” I joke.

“Oh no. I think of it every day.” Bartoy comes to sit at our feet. I throw him an extra blanket. “I am sorry, Bartolomew. I have not had the time to sit and talk to you as is our usual practice.”

“I know you are busy. I would not have bothered you. But I was frightened.”

“There is no need to apologize. Every man needs company,” I say.

“About the farm …” Bartoy blushes.

I look at him curiously.

“The other day. I boasted to Innocencio that you had invited me.”

“Yes?” I raise a brow in amusement, and Nina stifles a smile.

“He seemed so sad. Do you think there would be a place for him in this farm of ours? Even perhaps in the barn?”

“Of course,” I tell him. “You should invite Inno. Perhaps he would like to join us.”

“Wonderful.” Bartoy lets out a breath of relief. “For I accidentally promised him there was a free space.”

We laugh and talk more of the farm. We have added coconut trees at Bartoy’s insistence. We talk until the boy falls asleep, and then Nina and I ready ourselves for the night’s excursion and do not wake him for another few hours, until it is time to go. The moment our clothes are on and I step outside, the urgency of the night fills me once again. I think with guilt about my family in Manila. What kind of man am I to rest while their lives are in danger?

W
E WAIT FOR
the clouds to veil the moon. The conditions are good. The rain has thickened, and it is an even better omen. The men are anxious to start. They
whisper continuously back and forth. Bartoy in particular is excited. He walks beside me, his eyes shifting as I have taught him, his rifle leading the way.

If not for the whispering, we would walk like ghosts. This is not true for the noisy Japanese patrols, who have grown weary of confrontations and hope to warn us in their own way.

Near me are Tomas and Palaka. I watch each for different reasons. I cannot let Tomas out of my sight. He would go to rescue his parents. He is a sore reminder of my own thoughts. I inhale the fragrance of the jungle. The forest in the rain is unlike anything I have known. There is the scent of the many mango trees, the citrus of the fallen guavas, their pink flesh exposed as the tiny flies attack the fruit. There is the mustiness of the trapped air, the wet earth mixed with the tart scent of berries, the endless orange petals that line the roadside, and scurrying creatures. Even the many streams and dozens of gushing waterfalls carry a scent. Perhaps it is the damp moss on the large rocks, the ginger plants that dot the roadside, or the salt from the ocean that rises into the clouds and then showers down into the canopy of trees.

All around us the oversize leaves battle for attention. They push among one another, rising to find the sun. For every tree, there is moss growing on the trunks and lianas climbing upward and around their base. For every tree there are vines as thick as a man’s thigh hanging down. We leave the vines undisturbed, stepping around them. We try not to disturb the plants and shrubs as much as possible, but it is difficult, for they fill every open space. The giant leaves bend in the rain, but they are shaped like a spade at the tip to relieve them of the heavy downpours.

We creep through palm and bamboo trees, avoiding the exposed roots of the mangroves and the giant buttresses of the banyan trees that grow outward to support the top-heaviness of their branches.

My mind wanders. The men love going on these missions. With my men it would not take much to free Lorna and the babies from the Japanese. The men would enjoy the opportunity.
No, this is insanity. You have made a choice
.

Palaka hurries to my side. “Tomas is gone.”

“What?” I ask, looking around, already knowing the answer. I despair. I never would have let my thoughts stray like this. I never would have taken my eyes from him before. My thinking has become clouded.

“He has fled. I blinked and he was gone. From the very start he was looking for an opportunity to escape and avenge his parents. One of the runners has confirmed they were executed. I told you we should have shot him. He is without reason. He will compromise our location.”

“Send someone to find him. Only one person. We cannot split the group now.”

“What if he cannot be stopped?” Palaka asks.

I sigh. “Then have him executed. He risks all our lives.”

Palaka watches me closely. “Also, the runner has returned. He mentioned the situation with the warehouse in Manila has grown bad.”

“He said this?” I ask with concern. “Where is he?”

“What are these plans with the warehouse?” Palaka asks. “Again I do not know. Have you also replaced me without my knowledge?”

“Let us not fight,” I tell him. “Where is the runner?”

“Sir.” A recruit hurries forward and salutes.

I pull him aside under Palaka’s scowl. Palaka leaves the circle angrily.

“What is the news?” I ask the runner.

“I did as you told me, sir. I watched the area. I came as close to the warehouse as possible. I listened. That was how I injured my shoulder. All over Manila the orders are to execute the civilians. The Japanese admiral Iwabuchi has gone mad.”

I nod, I hear myself thank him. My head is spinning fast. I see my family lined against a fence for execution.
Do not go back there, not even in your mind. You knew this could happen
.

“What is it?” Nina asks.

“It is nothing. We proceed to the meeting with the Paghamons as planned.”

She hesitates, watching me. “There is another matter I must speak to you of.” Her voice is thick, strained.

“Later.” My mind cannot take any more information.

“Now,” she answers.

“Speak, then. We have little time.” I lead her from the group.

“Domingo, you cannot return to Manila to save them. The Japanese will be hunting for you. You cannot risk your life. You are the leader of this group. We will die without you.”

“I do not need you to remind me.”

She grabs my arm. Her eyes are pleading. “Domingo. I would never ask you to choose between her and me. I only tell you the truth. Our group will die if you leave. But if you go, I will go with you. I cannot stay apart from you any longer. I will help to save your family. Me, and the boy, and Innocencio. If it will be just the four of us, then so be it.”