Fray Jacinto de Villalobos
Pontificia et Regalis Sancti Thomae Aquinatis Universitas Manilana
Colegio de Farmacia
Manila, 1881
Señor Mateo Salgado,
Saludos Señor
Siento ser portador de malas noticias, pero Don Lorenzo falleció el sábado pasado de un ataque al corazón. Habia estado experimentando dolores en el pecho durante varias Semanas.
Siguiendo sus deseos, tendremos un servicio en la tumba con su gente en el cementerio. El Don era un hombre modesto, privado y muy querido por la gente. Esperamos que usted pueda hacerlo y ser uno con nosotros en estos tiempos tristes.
Teo struggles to find the right angle to properly read the wrinkled letter he received from Fray Luciano when he was in the university back in Manila. He has to constantly hold the letter closer to the lamp after flattening the crumpled parts with his hands. Although he almost had the content of the letter memorized, he still feels depressed every time he reads it as if he is reading through it for the first time
"Don Lorenzo has passed away", that phrase still stands out until this day
It somehow consoles him that he was able to pay his respect to his foster father on his grave. The desolation he felt on that fateful day he learned the death of his foster father is still present; and each time he reads the letter feels like peeling off dry skin from a scab only to find the wound is still not healed. Many nights he spent re-reading the letter before he goes to sleep in the hope that one day he would wake up and all was just a bad dream
He stares at the letter one last time while lying on his bed with the lamp on the bed side table. He can now feel his eyes getting heavy; he could hear amplified chirping crickets from outside and cold breeze embracing him from the windowsill. He falls asleep
It feels like hours have passed until Teo sees himself standing in front of the Salgados' Mausoleum. How he got in the cemetery is a mystery as he consider to have sleep walked himself there since he sees his bare feet covered in mud and dry leaves. He tries to recall if he had been sleep walking before, but his mind fails him. He feels a presence standing behind him when he quickly turns around only to be stunned by the statue of Archangel Michael and the Devil illuminated by the moon; their deformed figures worsen. He feels an unexplained dread knowing that he is alone in the dark in the cemetery. He always has been terrified of the dark; afraid of the unknown that might be lurking in the shadows.
When the cold wind blows and hit the grasses, it creates an eerie sound along with the rustling trees from afar. As the wind blows again, he hears a moan echoing; and it comes from the mausoleum. He walks slowly towards the wooden door and notices pale light leaking from the door gap. As he slowly slides the doors open, the weeping sound gets softer. From where he is standing he sees a veiled woman in front of the grave. She appears to be a shadowy figure since the woman is covering the light of the burning candle
"Excuse me, Segnora," Teo calls on her
The woman continues sobbing, on her right hand she holds a basket of flowers. Teo walks inch by inch closer to the veiled woman. He extends his right arm to reach the woman by her shoulder; one more inch and he will be able to touch her when she stops weeping. Teo's beating heart is intensified; he could feel beads of sweat falling from his forehead though it's cold; then he finally reaches her and touches the woman by her shoulder
The woman remains stoic while Teo feels the cloth the woman is wearing; the holes on her blouse and the roughness of the thread on her embroidered veil. Then unexpectedly, the woman extends her left hand on her shoulder, touching Teo's resting hand. Blood rushes towards Teo's head as he begins to feel feverish, though the woman's hand feels icy.
He tries to withdraw his hand away from the woman but Teo feels the tight grip of her freezing hand against his. Slowly, the veiled woman raises her head and gently turns her gaze towards him. Teo's hand feels the cold sniffs coming from her as she continues to turn her head towards him. Unsure why he feels terrified; but then he realizes he has always been terrified of what he does not know. His mind tends to anticipate in advance when faced with uncertainties; but this time his mind finds it difficult to catch a hold of faces to expect with what the veiled woman has.
Though she is now gazing directly at Teo, her face is still covered in veil and he struggles to figure out who she could be. She is heavily breathing; his hand, close to her nose and mouth turns moist; and it keeps getting damper. He feels liquid flowing on his hand, pasty and tepid; her saliva. Repulsed by the idea, he forcefully pushes the woman with his left hand, and withdraws his other hand. Unfortunately, gravity pulls him forcibly and he stumbles on the dusty ground.
Then the wind blows, puts out the fire from the burning candle and shuts the sliding door wildly as he panics. He gropes with his hands to reach for the door; he hears footsteps coming towards him; the woman's. She is getting closer but he is struggling to find his way to the door. He feels something crawling over him; on his feet, to his knees, all over his arms. They must be insects, they could be roaches, or crickets or spiders; but he doesn't care. He no longer knows how long he has been groping in the dark to find the door, he must get out of this place, away from the insects, away from her
As he reaches his arms far, he touches a hard wood erected on the ground, grasps onto it and thrusts his body forward. His left hand senses an upward curve as part of the hard wood and slides his body up, he then sits on the curvature, catches his breath and looks around him to find himself in his room, sitting on his bed. He must have fallen on the floor while sleeping. He wipes beads of sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt and takes air in.
He sees his room now illuminated by the sunlight coming off the window; after which he regains his strength
"It was all just a dream!" he utters to himself as he reclines to his bed, heavily breathing, still holding the letter on his right hand.