chapter 1 florencio

8/14/2019 CHapter 1 Florencio

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The dwindling rainy

season brought September,

1928, to a close.

With it, a visit from three

familiar men came

unexpectedly. “Florencio

Cacayan! Come down.”

The young man rubbed

his eyes and rose from the

abaca mat.

Although he attempted to tiptoe

quietly to the hut’s small

thatched



verandah, his grandparents

stirred. Florencio fumbled with

his threadbare cotton shirt

before leaping to the cool earth.

“Good morning, Godfather.”

Bartolomeo nodded.

“What may I do for you?”

Antonio followed down

the bamboo ladder to ensure

that his twentyone-

year-old son would help to

work his hectare of beans.



Bartolomeo appeared

serious. “Florencio, Felix wants

to speak with

you.”

“The head elder wants to

see me?”

“Guellerma went to him

last night.”

Florencio swallowed

hard. “What about?”

“She claims that she’s

pregnant--” He lowered his

voice. “--that you



forced her.”

Grandmother

Chrysynthia gasped from one

lofty window.

“Godfather, you’ve

known me since birth--” He

blinked repeatedly.

“--I couldn’t do such a thing.”

“Her story is that she was

ashamed to come forward when

it

happened.” Bartolomeo pursed

his lips. “Everyone’s well

aware that



you two often wandered

unchaperoned. If you’ve

fathered a child, then

take up your responsibility as a

man.”

Moises and Juan agreed.

Florencio looked to the

accompanying men. He

pondered their

words and worried that Felix

might take the distorted tale to

Mr.

Castilio, the mayor.



Moises grasped his arm.

“Come with us now.”

The young man’s pulse

quickened. “Father! Do

something.”

Bartolomeo turned to

Antonio. “Let him go,

Brother.”

Antonio stood silently

then nodded. “Son, be brave

and go with

them. I believe you’ll straighten

this out.”



Florencio obeyed. He

was not prepared to disappoint

his mother,

Florentina, after glimpsing her

figure across the rice field.

1

Florentina came

humming from the flooded

stream. It may be a dry

day after all, she reckoned. She

grunted and shifted the bamboo

rod



resting heavily across her

shoulders. Water spilt from

clay jugs

suspended by thongs from the

bamboo rod. She rested her

load once she

spotted her son. I wonder

where Flor is off to. She

shrugged and tipped

her straw hat to wipe her brow.

Yes, it won’t be long, dear,

before

you’re married to Lydia. Your

father has kept you working

our fields



mango tree. “Careful, or you’ll

become Flor’s wedding gift.”

It flitted to another branch as

though comprehending.

“That’s a fine idea; red is his

favorite color.” She grinned

and

positioned her jugs to move on.

§

Felix gorged on an array

of fruits when the men arrived

at his

shanty. His breathing labored

with every bite. “Come in.” He

motioned



to them but remained seated.

“Young man, you were wise to

come. I’ll

get to the point.” He clicked his

tobacco-stained teeth and bit

the end

off a stale cigar. “You know

that your family is respected

among our

people, correct?”

Florencio nodded to the

paunch elder.

“Guellerma and her

grandmother want you to set

things right--”



“--what she told you isn’t

true!”

“This village has eyes.”

Felix rolled the cigar between

thumb and

forefinger. “They’ve seen how

cozy you two were at several

provincial

fiestas.”

Florencio sighed.

“The girl’s pregnant and

claims that it’s your seed she

carries--that

you forced her.”



“Sir, I would never force

her. If any thing, she pressured

me to meet

her alone many times.”

“Ha! tell that to her

grandmother. We’re

peacekeeping men--not

the kind to violate our women,

and you know the laws for all

surrounding barrios. She’s

young but is willing for you to

marry her.”

“I can’t--”

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“--Personally. I don’t

care what you decide to do.”

Felix shrugged

and eyed the remaining papaya

slice. He licked his lips.

“Listen, your

own Ilocano people will side

with her once word spreads.”

His eyes

narrowed. “Go on, marry her,

and father her child, then all

can be

forgotten.”

Florencio shook his head.



“This situation could

become ugly if the mayor

handles it. Is that

what you prefer?”

“I can’t spend my life

with a woman I don’t love.”

The teak wood table

swayed with a bump from

Felix’ muddied boot.

“Do as you must.” He snorted

and resumed eating.



Bartolomeo released

Florencio to return home until

he received

further word on the matter.

Once he stepped from the

shanty, the young man fled in

the opposite

direction. He ran eight miles

almost nonstop to the first

crossing point

of the Magat River.

Jose’s legs dangled in the

water when his cousin arrived.

“Good!



You’re here to help me. Flor,

the catfish are cowards today,

and my

children will starve at the rate

I’m going.” He tossed his

length of twine

into the fresh water for the

umpteenth time.

Florencio dropped next

to him on the bamboo flat.

“Whew!”

Jose shook his head.

“Don’t tell me you ran the

whole way here.”



He wiped his face on his

shirtsleeve. “Uh-huh. Would

you take me to

the other side?”

“You didn’t come to fish

then. Is your love waiting for

you today?”

Florencio nudged him.

“Come on, it’s important--I’m

in trouble.”



Jose winked. “For you,

it’s always important. If it

weren’t for me

and the netted crabs I trade for

beef, Lydia wouldn’t know you

exist at

all.”

“I’m sure you’ll remind

me for the rest of my life.” He

patted Jose’s

shoulder. “Now, what do you

say?”



Jose squashed a

mosquito and added it to his

worthless mound of

bait. “Why don’t you ask

Simon?” He looked about, but

the riverman’s

canoe was nowhere in sight.

“Okay, I’ll take you. I’m going

to

miss the big one though.”

Florencio rolled his eyes.

“Cousin, tomorrow I’ll bring

corn bits and

show you how to properly

empty this river.



They laughed and rowed

together across the smooth

current.

On the opposite bank,

Florencio greatly reduced the

forty-mile trek

to Lydia’s hacienda by leaving

the main road. He set out along

the

usual shortcuts with one

question turning again and

again in his mind.

How do I break my

predicament to her?



3

He ran for some time and

wriggled up a tilted tree. Near

the top, a

coconut dropped. It crashed and

drizzled milk down a rock

when he fell

with a thud. “Oosh!” His elbow

was skinned and pants torn.

Then he

cupped the cracked shell to his

mouth. It came up empty. “This

is not

my day.”



One day I’ll own sandals

as city folk, he determined and

kicked the

coconut up the path.

Considering the distance

remaining to go, he

concentrated on Lydia instead

of his sore feet.

§

“Goodnight, Gloria, no

one makes adobo more

delicious than

yours.” The shadows darkened

when Lydia parted with her

employed



friend outside the cooking

house. She crossed the

adjoining bridge to the

main house and whistled for

her dog. “Mr. English, where

are you?”

She whistled again before he

barked along the village road.

He was leaping up and down in

front of Tuto’s wagon.

“Come, Mr. English!” she

called.

The dog continued

barking at another figure on

board.



Lydia squinted hard.

“Florencio!” She breathed

deeply and ran full

speed to greet him. “What a

surprise!”

Florencio leapt down and

swung her into the air. “I’ve

missed you.”

Lydia blushed. “Tuto, you can

unload the lemons tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lydia.

Goodnight.”



She led Florencio up to

the house. “You’ve come far;

you must be

hungry.”

“Truthfully, Tuto split

his fish dinner with me. I’m

lucky I caught

him before he left the orchard.”

He took her hand. “I still get

lost miles

away without you by my side.”

She chuckled. “Be

patient, love, it won’t be long

before you roam



Santa Cruz as if you’d always

lived here.”

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chapter 1 florencio

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