It was early in the morning when the Victoria found itself clashing mildly against one of the docks of the Batangas port. Around the sixth hour in the morning, when our ship was still out at sea days ago, Basilio and I had made our arrangements with the captain of the ship to make ready the deployment of our cargo as soon as we hit the shore, and so we are expecting everything to be rolled out quickly. The hour is thirty-seven minutes past nine, and nothing still seem to be unloaded from the cargo hold and our ship's stuck at the docks for almost three days.
With nothing to do but to wait for the captain as he arranges all the necessary clearances and documents to permit our cargo into the country, I busied myself by surveying the happenings in the dock's surroundings as I lit a cigarette from the upper deck of the ship, and looking down before me are the usual goings-on of the port: porters wearing their filthy camisas moving about like ants carrying their own loads towards their anthill, carriages bearing passengers entering and exiting the port, vendors and peddlers shouting about, advertising their goods and wares among a handful of passers-by walking along the sidewalk. However, on certain occasions, my eyes happen to spy on more...interesting events. From petty instances of hungry street children stealing goods from street peddlers to a pretty straightforward mugging, the port of Batangas has no shortage of sights to amuse oneself.
A few seconds later, I heard the sound of solid soles colliding against the steel steps leading towards the deck. Ascending from the stairs is a man of great built, a grey-haired mariner with a bush for a beard and brows tightly knit. The sailor is apparently in a bad mood and talking to himself, though I can't make much of what he is saying. As he drew closer, his whispers began to be audible, saying in Spanish, "Those fucking port authorities. They think they can charge this much tax on our cargo and get away with it?! Wait till my friend from the Cortes hears about this. Even in a foreign land, my fellow Spaniards can't do a fellowman a favor and even have the guts to extort money from me. Sons of whores."
When he turned to me, however, his face brightened a little, as if trying to approach me with as much good humor as possible. "My apologies for the delay, señor. We had a little problem with the port authorities here in uhh....Batangas. But no worries, I have settled what needs to be arranged and everything is in order. Your carriage is waiting below."
I paused for a moment to look him in the eye. "There is confidence in your words, however, I am compelled to challenge its integrity because of your expression. I know this country too well to know that whatever business you had below is not a small problem. Please, my friend, tell me what happened."
The captain seemed hesitant at first, judging by the silence that followed. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said, "I don't mean to trouble you on this concern, but the port authorities demanded a sum that is a thousand pesos higher than the legal charge for taxes for our cargo. I tried to talk sense into them, but those bastards...they won't listen to a word I say and started making threats. I had to compromise, so-"
"So you gave them what they asked?" a man interrupted.
"Do-Doctor Basilio." the captain replied, his head bowed and his eyes staring at the ground.
"How much is it again?" my partner asked intently.
"A thousand pesos, doctor." the captain replied.
"I see." Basilio answered placidly. He then turned to me and said, "Isagani, what do you think?"
"What do I think? Report them to the Captain-General! Let them know that we are not individuals that are to be taken lightly. That's what you would do too, I presume." I answered with a tone of pomp and swagger.
"To bring this matter to the attention of the Captain-General would be a tall order, señor." the sailor challenged. "We might as well admit of attempting to smuggle the goods into the country. Don't take this the wrong way, señores. It's just that they'll be sure to turn our own words against us if we bring this case to a local court. I suggest to let it be...for now, at least. I have a friend in the Cortes that can help us get back at them."
"Mmm. Quite observant of you, captain. Impressive." commended Basilio.
"So are you saying we'll just have to concede, is that it?" I argued.
"It's just a thousand pesos, Isagani. No need to get sore about such a meager amount." Basilio countered. "That's the price of operating in the Philippines."
"That's not what I meant, Basilio. I don't care about the money. This is about sending a message. These men need to know how deep they dug their graves for trifling with our business. We need to command respect." I spat.
"They will learn fear and respect, my friend. But now is not the time for that. Besides, there are more pressing matters to attend to." he replied indifferently.
"And what is that, aber?! (pray tell)" I asked.
"A letter just came in." Basilio answered as he unfolded a piece of paper from the inside of his coat. "The letter says it came from a certain...Florentino dela Peña, the capitan municipal of Pasig. He wishes to meet us in San Diego in two weeks."
"What for? And of all places, why in San Diego? He's the capitan municipal of Pasig. Why not receive us there?!" I complained.
"There is another letter." Basilio continued as he produced a folded paper from the surface of the capitan municipal's opened letter and unfolded it. "Now, this one says that we are cordially invited to the grandest birthday celebration of the one and only heir of the Pelaez and Espadaña fortune." Basilio replied in a manner similar to that of an oration. "Now, the capitan municipal of Pasig will be there as well, so he cannot receive us in his city. I suspect that the capitan knows something about your past with Paulita, because, it just so happens that Señora Pelaez has sent out invitations to a lot of officials and certain ilustrados, and that includes us, and she would be expecting us to come - you, most of all. The letters just came in this morning. This is a good chance to get in touch with the elites and get the layout of the current political situation in the Philippines."
"T-that letter. Is it really from Paulita? How did she-?"
"Yes. The very same Paulita. And to answer your other question, she just arrived here in Batangas three days ago on matters of business. A shameful display, since for a man like you, I'd expect that you should have known that already." Basilio answered. "You look shocked. Are you all right?"
I then paused for a moment to give Basilio's answer a thought. "Why would Paulita invite me to such a celebration?" I asked him.
"Beats me. I'd like to find out myself." Basilio answered with a puzzled look on his face. "Maybe she wants to make peace? Or perhaps a business proposal? In any case, caution must be exercised in dealing with her - especially on your part. She's a cunning viper, and I'm aware that you know this to be true."
I let out a sigh. "You're right."
Basilio then produced a fountain pen and a notepad from his coat pocket and began to write something. After jotting down everything he has to write, he tore the leaf of paper from the notepad and gave it to the captain. "Give this paper to Señor Julio Ramon Montoya Vega, one of my personal trustees in Madrid. You'll find his office near Cafe Llonora. You know where it is. Give him this note and tell him I sent you. He'll provide you with the compensation that you so deserve for the trouble you just went through. We never turn a blind eye to those who provide us with excellent service, Capitan Monteverde."
The captain then took the piece of paper from Basilio's hand. And as he gazed upon what was written on the note, his eyes widened in shock.
"F-five thousand pesos, Doctor?!" the captain gasped in awe. "That is a lot of money, good sir."
Basilio then gave the captain a pat on the shoulder. "Aye. A token of my friendship."
Needless to say, the captain was overjoyed at the gift offered by Basilio. No one, even a haciendero in his right mind, would not even give out half of the five thousand pesos so freely as if he were giving a handful of cuartos to a beggar in the street. But knowing Basilio, he does not do these things out of the kindness of his heart. We are entrepreneurs after all, and I know for a fact that he is doing this to earn the favor of this man, an investment of sorts, so that one day he may be able to use it in his time of need. And besides, the best time to ask a man a favor is when he is in a very good mood.
"Doctor Basilio, if there's anything I can do to be of service to you, just let me know!" the sailor declared as he offered his hand to my friend, who did not have any second thoughts in shaking it.
"I don't doubt that, my friend. In fact, I have something in mind." answered Basilio as he rubbed his chin. "I have a shipment of books coming from New York in America that was supposed to be delivered this very week. Unfortunately, the shipping company who took the contract backed out five days after they signed it. I need them delivered by the end of next month. I understand that Don Salvador will not be too happy if he does not hear from you two months from now, but if you and your crew are up to it and you can do this task for me, I'd be more than happy to...throw in a little bonus for your trouble. After all, you and I are going to help each other here, captain." Basilio proposed.
The captain rubbed his chin in contemplation.
"Hmm. It looks a little tricky, especially now that Spain does not have strong diplomatic relations with Americanos at the moment, but I think it can be done, Doctor. I'll deliver the goods."
"We can talk business then." Basilio merrily replied. "For this job, as usual, you'll receive a total of ten thousand pesos. Half will be given upfront and the other half will be given after you deliver the goods in excellent condition. The cargo will be stored in watertight crates, so I expect them to get here dry. Any damage found on the goods will be charged on your final pay. Clear so far?"
"Aye." agreed the captain. "However, I have some concerns."
"Let me guess." Basilio replied as he crossed his arms. "The port authorities, I presume?"
"Si. Exactly." the man replied.
"You have more than a month to deliver the goods that I ask you to deliver. By the time you arrive here from America, our friends from customs would have been dealt with. I guarantee you that." my friend answered. "Anything else?"
"What about the cargo? What if the goods are already damaged by the time I receive them from your contact in America?"
"You're a cautious man. I like that." commended Basilio. "My people in America are trustworthy. But if you want to be sure, feel free to take a photograph of the crates before you receive them. My people in America are used to these sort of dealings. As long as the seals are intact, I'm good with that. In addition, I'll be needing my contact to come with you as well to assist in the exchange. And don't worry about port authorities opening these crates for inspection. I have people who will notify me once your ship docks in the Philippines. I'll attend to the exchange personally. Just make sure you dock here in Batangas."
"I see. Understood, Doctor." nodded the man. "By the way, before I forget, who am I supposed to contact for the goods? And how many crates am I supposed to receive again?"
"Fifty crates, captain, weighing around seventy kilos each." replied Basilio.
"That's a lot of books, Doctor." commented the man.
"Yes. It is, capitan. And for a good reason. Those books will be sufficient supply for three school libraries." Basilio reasoned in a matter-of-fact tone.
He then took an envelope and a small parcel from his pocket and gave it to the captain. "The address of my contact is written in the back of the envelope. He owns a library in New York."
The captain then took the package and checked the back of the letter.
"Ahh. Professor...Jonathan Leeds, is it? I see." the captain replied as he inspected the envelope intently, in a tone that seemed to agree to Basilio's offered terms. "We'll be off for New York after a week. Expect the shipment to arrive within the coming month."
At this, the captain offered his hand in agreement to the contract - with Basilio shaking it firmly.
"It is concluded then! I'm glad doing business with you. I'll make ready the necessary arrangements." Basilio announced. "Oh, by the way, if I were you, I might as well have a look around here in Santa Clara while I wait, captain. I believe there's a tavern not far from here. I had a...friend bring me there back in the day. Their spirits are outstanding."
"A delightful proposal, good sir." the captain replied with a big grin.
"A delightful proposal indeed." I said in approval.
"Now, captain. If you would excuse us, Isagani and I have some important matters to discuss." Basilio exclaimed in a respectful but rather dismissive tone.
"Of course, Doctor. I'll be downstairs if you need anything." replied the captain politely. "Señor." he said as he gave me a short but courteous bow as he dismissed himself.
When the captain has finally exited the premises, Basilio produced a cigarette and a match from the inside of his coat, tuck the stick between his lips and lighted the free end.
"What is it now?" I inquired impassively.
"I don't know how to put this but...I received a message from one of our contacts in the government." he replied, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's. "Your uncle was found dead in the convento. Three gunshot wounds to the chest, probably made by a revolver. This report was...five years ago."
I was taken aback, not knowing exactly what to say or do at the moment. The news of my father-figure being murdered coming to me in a casual conversation got me thunderstruck, but not to the extent of being dumbfounded. My extensive experience has trained me to stick to reason in these kinds of situations, but this time, my mind was clouded as a feeling of hatred was slowly swallowing me.
"Is this source of yours a reliable one?" I answered softly, barely containing my rage.
"Indeed. He's working closely with the police, Isagani. He happened to 'lose' some documents while on duty." he calmly replied. "Want a cigarette?"
"No, thank you." I declined. "Do they have any leads yet?"
"Of course not. The government dismissed the case immediately, ruling it as suicide. Five years, Isagani?! And no real developments on the case?! You know how it is in the Philippines. The government treats Filipinos like us like shit." Basilio then massaged his forehead with his fingers as he shook his head. "I have a theory though."
He then fell silent, paused for a few seconds.
"Let's hear it." I invited him.
"Don Tiburcio de Espadaña. Ten years ago. Remember anything?" was Basilio's brief clue.
I began to ponder upon his words. Ten years ago, my uncle took Don Tiburcio under his care because at the time, he was being hunted by his wife Doña Victorina - for whatever reason she may have. And then it hit me, an idea came to me like a bolt of lightning.
"You're saying the Espadañas are behind my uncle's murder?" I asked.
"Possibly. But it can also be Pelaezes. Juanito's got something against you, after all."
I replied with a sneer. "Juanito?! That buffoon of a hunchback?! He doesn't have the guts! That man's a coward!"
"A lot can change in ten years, my friend. For all we know, he may be operating an opium business right under the government's nose and is just using his father's business as a front." Basilio challenged. "According to our contacts, they have acquired hectares of lands around Bulacan and Nueva Ecija. Their consignment business cannot possibly amass that kind of fortune, even in ten years. But anyway, those are just theories. We need more information if we're going to get to the bottom of your uncle's death. We need witnesses and evidence to give us leads. I know what you're thinking, Isagani. For your sake, don't do anything stupid."
I let out a sigh. "You're right. It's too early to jump to conclusions. We should-"
I was halted from my speech when we heard footsteps coming up the steel stairs. From it the captain re-emerged, his good humor turned sour once again.
"Señores, my apologies for interrupting. This man's been insisting to see you. By any chance, do you know someone named Placido Penitente?"
Basilio and I gave each other sharp and suspicious stares at the mention of the name Placido Penitente. Back in our days in the University, Placido Penitente was considered one of the most excellent students of Universidad de Santo Tomas - or at least by people who have nothing against him. A Batangueño by birth and a son to a cabeza de barangay, he was known for his knack in logic and law that though he is a peaceful and an introverted fellow, his professors scorned him, treated him as a subversive.The last I've heard of him was when he dropped out of school because of the treatment he had been receiving from his teachers. Now, I wonder why he decided to come to us. What does he need from us?
"Let him up, captain. You can leave us. He's an acquaintance of ours." Basilio told him.
A few seconds later, a slim but stern figure in a bowler hat and a fine black suit ascended the stairs. He holds in his left hand a long ivory cane, striking the metal sheets with each step. He had a straight face, neatly cut in the edges of the cheekbones. For a man with Filipino blood, his complexion has become a smooth olive - Italian-like, by my standards. He is a bit smaller than Basilio, but he had that air of pomp and swagger that radiated authority, making him seem taller than he actually is.
"Ahh! Greetings, gentlemen! What a fine ship you have here!" greeted the man in a lively tone as he lifted and threw his cane just a few inches above his head, stylishly catching it mid-air like a showman in a carnival.
"Welcome aboard the Victoria, Penitente." greeted Basilio as he extended his hand.
"That's 'Don' Penitente, Doctor. I did not spend ten years of my life making my fortune only to be called by my last name. You disappoint me with your courtesies." was his disgusted reply, avoiding Basilio's hand. Then, he turned his attention to me. "And you must be...Isagani, yes? Or rather, Don Isagani. I've heard a lot about you back in the day in the university. You and Makaraig. I'm glad to finally make your acquaintance. You're pretty brave to throw in those pasquinades right in the government's face. I admire that." he said as he held out his hand.
"For the record, that...wasn't us. But nonetheless, it's nice to meet you too, Don Penitente." I replied as I accepted his hand. "How fares Kabesang Andang, your mother?"
"Ahh. So you know of her? Curious. She is retired and living the good life, as all good mothers deserve, thank you." Penitente replied with a smile, which then slowly dissolved as his face became pensive. "I, uhhh..."heard" the news about Padre Florentino, your uncle. My deepest sympathies, my friend. To kill a man is one thing. But to kill a servant of God....unimaginable. What man would do such a thing?"
"A soulless one, no doubt!" interrupted Basilio, while slowly venting out the smoke from his mouth as he turned to Penitente. "But let us set aside such talk and turn ourselves to matters of business, shall we? After all, that is what you came here to talk about, is it not?"
"Have some respect, man!" rebuked Penitente, disgusted. "We're talking about Don Isagani's deceased uncle and you're acting-!"
"Like what?! You think mourning for his uncle will do anything to better the situation?" Basilio countered with a tone of hostility. "We are esteemed persons of society, are we not? People like us do not maintain our positions by dwelling in the past, because the past is the realm of friars and dead men - and we are neither of those."
Placido retreated into short silence. "I see." he said as his lips curled into a smile. "You certainly have changed, my friend. You even sound a lot like him."
"Him?" I asked, perplexed and clueless.
"A man of respect we both knew a long time ago." Placido answered indifferently, still wearing his smug smile as he turned to Basilio. "If it's business that you want, then it's business we shall have."
"Excellent." commended Basilio as he took an envelope from inside his coat. "Here are the order specifications for my purchase. Everything that you need to know is in there. Make sure to burn it once you're done." He then flicked his hand to hand over the documents.
"I know, doctor. That's the 23rd time that you have said that to me." Placido replied as he immediately received the envelope from Basilio and placed it in the pocket inside his coat. "Oh, by the way, about that last time we talked, I put some thought on your proposed 'concept', and I must say that it certainly caught my interest. We should talk about it further some time."
"I am all ears, but we are committed to a different undertaking at the moment. We can't afford to stretch our resources further." answered Basilio, who hasn't given the slightest hint as to what they were talking about.
"I see. But should you change your mind, you know where to find me." invited Penitente.
"That is duly noted, my friend." Basilio replied.
"Well, now that we've got business out of the way, why don't we talk about something else." Placido started, now in his more upbeat tone of voice. "Miguel Pelaez's birthday is two weeks from now and I hear the two of you are invited. The kid's turning nine by then so I was wondering if you can give me any suggestions for a gift. You know, I'd want to give a good impression." he exclaimed as he paced back and forth, swirling his cane about. "I need something...simple, yet full of meaning. Any ideas, Don Isagani?"
The man's question took me by surprise that my response were just stutters and fillers. Now that he had brought it up, I haven't the slightest idea what to give - not that I gave time to actually think about it.
"Perhaps the more appropriate question would be how were you able to know that we are invited? Better yet, how did you know we were arriving here?" Basilio cut in in a suspicious tone. "Those letters are supposed to be confidential."
"Let's just say that I have my ways. I'm sure you're aware that men like me have to be careful at all times." he answered, his lips curling into a smile.
"I see. Point well taken." Basilio exclaimed, satisfied with Placido's answer.
"Well, then! As I was saying, I was thinking of a gift to give the young Pelaez. Now, since Don Isagani is having a hard time coming up with a suggestion, do you mind giving me one doctor?"
"Since I am a man of science, I'd say give him a book to read. 'On the Origin of Species', perhaps?" he suggested.
"Are you thick, doctor? For goodness's sake, Miguel Pelaez is a child, not a scholar having his thesis!" Placido rebuked with a disgusted tone.
"And what, you'd rather have him read Tandang Basio Macunat or other worthless things like toys?" Basilio retorted.
"There are a lot of things that are great about you, doctor. But being good with children is certainly not one of them." commented Penitente.
"Give the child something that encourages his interest, perhaps?" I interrupted. "You know, children here in the Philippines do not have the privilege of choosing what they want to become when they grow up. Filipino culture does not foster that aspect in a child. It's always the parents that dictate what path the children choose. It's the parents who are always like 'When you grow up, you should be like this, you should be like that,'. But the child is never asked 'what do you want?'. If you're looking for something simple yet full of meaning, then perhaps you can try...encouraging his hobbies. If he likes art, then perhaps some paint and a rack of canvas. If it's music, then perhaps the musical instrument of his choice. A-am I making sense to you, Don Penitente?"
Placido fell silent, and with a grin he said, "Very interesting, Don Isagani. Well, as you well know, the Filipino child doesn't have the luxury of choosing what they want to become - practically speaking of course. Opportunities for growth are scarce for Filipinos, that's the truth. There are children who want to become professional artists, but have no resources to do so. But I must say, even though beggars can't be choosers, there is truth to what you have said. I mean, look at you and Dr. Basilio. You started with nothing, now you have everything. A very...insightful suggestion. I'll make sure to take note of that."
"From what I've heard, the young Pelaez has taken an interest in guns, though that's not publicly known of course." said Basilio. "You're going to encourage that?"
"Yes! There's nothing wrong in taking an interest in guns as long as you know how to respect them." I replied with conviction. "Give him a dummy gun, and from there, teach him the proper way of handling it, to put his finger on the trigger only if he needs to shoot something...or someone. Sooner or later he will have to learn that lesson, and if you're going to ask me, it's better to teach them while they still know how to listen. Men tend to get more and more stubborn as they grow older."
"A fine argument, señor." commended Penitente, applauding with a slow clap. "A fine argument, indeed. You know, maybe in an alternate reality where Señora Pelaez had married you instead, I'm sure you would have been a great father."
"Perhaps. However, it is not so." I commented. "Well, that's life. There's nothing I can do about that now but to accept it and move forward."
"No truer words have been said. Unfortunately." praised Penitente as he slipped his hand inside his coat to check his pocket watch. "Well, I see it's almost time for lunch. Although I'd want to stay here to chat a little more, but business calls. Perhaps another time. I'm not the kind of man who wants to be late for his appointments. So, if you don't mind, gentlemen."
Placido then gave out his hands to shake ours.
"We wouldn't want to take up much of your time. Thank you very much, Don Penitente." Basilio said with an altered tone. "Have a safe journey."
"Thank you. I'll meet the both of you again in two weeks' time." replied Penitente as he struck the ground with his cane. "Until then gentlemen, please do me a favor."
"What is it?" asked Basilio.
"Don't do anything stupid." he replied as he turned to take his leave, exiting the premises with slow and eerie footsteps. "And also, Doctor, do think about my proposal. I'm sure you and I would benefit from this new...'business model'. Until then, gentlemen." he said as he exited with a short bow.
By the time he left, I turned to Basilio. "What does he mean by that?" I asked.
"Nothing for you to worry about for now. Anyway, enough of that. Let's get going and have ourselves settled at the inn. We have much work to do."