A lone voice came from behind him. “Sir, it’s Sunday morning, the townsfolk will be at the Church attending Mass.”
Hernando smiled tightly. He had very little time for organised religion and even God but as a good Spanish colonialist he knew well and could appreciate the job the Friars did, at using their religion to control and direct the populace. Personally, he didn’t necessarily approve of the tactic, but he did understand that by drilling the fear of God into these people, the Church was playing its part in keeping their aspirations for freedom and improving their station in life, at bay. For all its faults, Hernando knew the Catholic Church was one of the key platforms and strategies of the Spanish Colonial Office. He would upset or offend the Friars, at his own risk. They held immense political power both here and back in Spain. “Ahhhh… good God-fearing people. Now that’s, what I like to hear. Well, what do you suppose we head on over to the Church and give these townspeople a look at a fine military unit?” It crossed his mind also that it wouldn’t do him any harm, for his long-term career, to introduce himself to the local Priests and ingratiate himself with them, much as it went against his principles.
“Right, to the Church,” he bellowed, wheeling his horse around in a circle. Suddenly he realised he had absolutely no idea where the church was, or in what direction. To cover his shame he focused on one of the riders who had been in Santa Maria for some time. “Okay, Corporal whatever your name is; lead us in the direction of the local Catholic Church.”
Corporal Santiago secretly grinned at his commanding officer’s lack of knowledge, but snapped back an answer, “Sir, yes Sir,” before adding, “Troop... troop... fall in on me.” Riding to the front of the troop, the men reformed on either side of him, with Hernando at the extreme outside. Giving his horse a nudge in the belly with his spurs, Corporal Santiago led the column in a right wheel, before heading down a side street and out into the countryside, toward the Santa Maria Cathedral.
Hernando was enjoying the ride through the verdant landscape of swaying rice stalks. The gentle breeze was still warm and stifling, but at least it seemed, anyway, to give some limited relief from the beating sun. As they rounded a bend in the road, he was astonished to see a Filipino family cowering beside the roadside. Too late he realised there was simply no room for the horses to pass the family in the confined space of the road. He watched in shocked fascination as an entire family, dressed in their finest clothes dove headfirst into the mud and water of the adjoining rice field.
“Woah!” he shouted. “Troop, woah!” He shuddered inwardly when he felt his foot jar, as the toe of his boot connected solidly with what he could only assume was someone’s head. Oh my God, he thought, what have I done? He could hear loud guffaws of laughter coming from behind him. Furious, he spun on his saddle to see his men doubled over with laughter at the antics of the poor Filipino family struggling to get back to their feet, covered in mud from head to toe.
“SHUT UP YOU LOT!” he bellowed furiously. “Get over there and help those poor people out you imbeciles. Can you not see they are in trouble? What are you, Soldiers of Spain or blithering idiots? Now jump to it!” The men looked aghast at their Captain as if he had flipped his lid, but their military training finally won out and they obeyed his order, wading into the water to try and help.
Hernando slithered off his mount and ran to the person his toe had clearly kicked in the head. He could see the woman, lying face down in the mud and not moving. Panic-stricken he rushed into the water, not caring about his smart uniform at all. As he reached her, he gently rolled her over onto her back and examined her face, which was draped in cloying, smelly mud, covering her eyes, her nose, and her mouth. Unsure if she was even breathing he frantically wiped the mud from her face with his sleeve, before using his fingers to scrape the last of the disgusting stuff from her nose and mouth area. He gave an enormous sigh of relief as his efforts were rewarded with a flutter of her eyelashes and a wracking cough that spilled from her mouth. He recoiled as she vomited a stream of filthy mud, from her lungs, all over the front of his beautiful dress uniform.
Swallowing hard to counter his own gag reflex, he drew his handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and dipping it into the water, gently began to wipe the excess mud away from her face. Her eyes flashed open and she looked uncomprehendingly at him, before fainting and collapsing backward, like a dead-weight. He was only just quick enough to prevent her head from falling back into the muck. Staggering to his feet he placed his arms under her knees and her shoulders before lifting the sodden bundle into his arms and cradling her to his chest. The mud and water in her clothes made her feel like she weighed a ton and it was some effort just to climb the two feet out of the field and onto the road, where he sat her gently down. Whipping off his jacket he laid it behind her and slowly, softly placed her flat on the roadway.
By this time her parents were charging over to see if she was alright. She wasn’t alright, as far as Hernando could see. She was still unconscious, although he could see her chest, her ample bosoms, in fact, rising and falling evenly with each breath. “Keep them away, Sergeant,” he commanded. “She’s going to be okay, but I think I need to look after her.”
The Sergeant held up his hand to stop Minda’s parents from reaching her. When her father continued to push toward her, Sergeant Molinero swung his rifle butt upward, connecting solidly with his jaw and sending him to his knees, with an exclamation of pain.
“Goddammit Sergeant! Why on earth did you do that for?” Hernando exploded.
“Ahhh, but Sir, you told me to keep them away, Sir.”
“For God’s sake man, did you have to knock the poor old bugger out? Help him to his feet.” Sergeant Molinero, still unsure what was eating his commanding officer, nevertheless complied with his request.
Sighing with exasperation, Hernando stood up from the girl, who still lay peacefully on the road and approached her parents, Minda’s father now standing and ruefully rubbing the side of his head. “Now look here, you people. I’m terribly sorry about what’s happened. It was just one of those things, an unfortunate accident.” He looked down at where Minda still lay motionless and added, “I’m just going to take this young lady to the camp, where she can be seen by one of our medics.”
Minda’s mother began to splutter, “no, no, no, you can’t take our little girl. You can’t!” The tears began to fall from her cheeks as she flapped her arms in the air, prompting her husband to grab her and wrap his arm around her shoulders.
“What my wife says is correct. You can’t just take our little Minda. How do we know what you’ll do to her at that damn camp? We hear all sorts, from people, about your soldiers and the way you treat our woman. Minda’s just a little girl. It’s fine, really, we will take her home and care for her. Now let us collect our daughter please.”
Hernando drew himself up to his full height, glanced down at the prostrate girl one final time and made a decision. “I’m sorry, Sir, but for the girl’s long-term wellbeing I think we need to get her seen by a Doctor. Now, I give you my word, as an officer of Her Majesty Queen Maria Christina and as an aristocrat of the House of Altamira, no harm will come to your daughter. I am merely thinking of her best welfare.” He snapped himself to attention before saluting the dumbfounded parents.
Minda’s father spluttered again, but it was clear invoking the name of the Spanish monarchy had made him more receptive to the Captain. “Well, Sir,” he began. “If you put it that way, we would be honoured for you to take care of our daughter and ensure her good health.” Stroking his chin, he added, as an afterthought, “but I would feel much more comfortable if my eldest son were to accompany his sister and watch out for her welfare.”
Hernando studied the man’s eyes that appeared to beseech him for this one small concession. Waving his hand airily, he ordered, “so be it. Let the boy accompany his sister.” As he knelt back down beside the still unconscious girl, he looked up, “you called her Minda. I take it that is her name?”
He stood and considered Minda’s mother briefly. “Luzviminda, hmmm, that’s a lovely name.” Stroking his chin briefly, he added, “you know, it almost sounds Spanish. Is there any Spanish blood in the family?”
Francisca bristled slightly and her eyes flashed, but keeping a smile on her face, she explained. “No Sir, we are pure Filipino to the core.” She coughed slightly, “the name Luzviminda is very definitely a Filipino invention.”
Intrigued, Hernando gestured with his hand for the woman to continue. “Well, we chose the name to represent the three areas of our country.” She couldn’t help herself, but to emphasise the, our. Curtseying awkwardly and with her face colouring slightly, she hastened to add, “the Luz, stands for Luzon, the Vi for the Visayas and the Minda for Mindanao, but as I said earlier nobody ever calls her by her full name, she is just plain Minda to us.”
Hernando threw his head back and roared with laughter at the explanation, “how incredibly clever and innovative of you all. I would never have guessed that in a million years.” Turning to his Sergeant, he added, “clever ha, Sergeant? A clever name for sure, eh?” The Sergeant, taken aback by his Captain’s jollity, just nodded and silently wondered if his poor Captain had taken leave of his senses. Picking Minda up gently in his arms, he placed her on his horse, just in front of the saddle pommel, before jumping up and holding her to ensure the still unconscious girl would not roll straight off the other side.
Looking down at the still somewhat petrified family, he gave them his biggest smile. “Please don’t worry yourselves, so. I promise you I will take good care of your precious daughter and will return her home before you even know it.” He barked at his Sergeant. “Sergeant, get me a piece of cord to tie this poor girl to me, so she doesn’t slip off.”
The Sergeant rushed to his saddlebags and found some cord that he wrapped around the pair of them, sitting on the horse and tied it off. Hernando looked around one final time before lifting his hat briefly from his head, inclining it slightly as he did so. “My friends,” he said, “I will see you soon and hopefully we will have our Minda well and awake by then.”
Kicking his horse softly, he pulled the reins to turn and slowly began to trot back down the road, his troops following him and leaving Minda’s family still standing there, dumbstruck and in shock. After a few minutes, Robertini shook his head softly, “damn, we forgot to send Gabriel with her as a chaperone. I hope she’s going to be alright.”
***
LUZVIMINDA:
The sun hung low, an incandescent ball, in the deep blue canvas of the sky, as Minda lay supine beneath the branches of the old mango tree, leaning out across the large expanse of water. This was her favourite spot to come and escape from the worries of home, the endless arguments about her future and the annoying chatter of her younger siblings. This was Minda’s special place, her sanctuary and she guarded the knowledge of it, jealously. Nobody knew where she went when she disappeared for hours on end and if she had her way, nobody would ever find out.
On rare occasions, often as the shadows lengthened and the ball of fire began to creep below the western horizon, throwing a kaleidoscopic light show across the broad expanse of sky, Minda would secretly take her bath here, at the watering hole. She knew there was hardly ever anyone there and as the sky turned to a deep purple and features became less clear, she would often slip out of her hot, sweaty dress and lower herself into the crystal clear, soothing, cool waters of the lake. This was her absolute favourite place to be and she would lie on her back, her eyes closed dreaming of a life she was yet to experience.
Today would be such a day as she pushed herself upright and glancing around to ensure she was still alone, she began to unhook the clasps for her simple dress. Normally she would leave on a vest and her underwear to retain some modesty, should an unsuspecting person wander by, or worse, one of the boys from school, but this time she felt uninhibited, free from societal conventions as if she and only she existed on this planet. Today, she determined to swim free, to swim naked, as God had always intended her to be. She giggled softly at her bravery and before she could think more rationally and possibly change her mind, she had stripped out of her underclothes and was standing at the water’s edge, arms folded over her newly developed breasts as if to protect them from gazing eyes. Despite the heat, still lying heavily in the atmosphere, her whole body gave a little shiver and goosebumps raised on her forearms. “God, I am wicked,” she giggled softly to herself, “but, I don’t care,” she finished, as her giggle turned into a chuckle.
Throwing caution to the wind, Minda opened her arms wide to embrace the coming sunset and deliberately stepped off the bank and into the welcoming arms of the water’s embrace. A sense of utter serenity and calm came over her as she pushed out away from the bank and floated on her back into the open. Spreading her arms and legs wide for balance, her long, dark hair fanning out on either side of her, she opened her eyes and stared up into the multicoloured heavens. The hue was just beginning to change from a fiery orange to a deep red and she knew a darker, more sinister indigo would follow, to eventually be replaced by the pitch blackness of the night, with the billions of tiny pinpricks of light in the firmament, the only light to be had. She knew the moon would not rise for several hours yet, but she was totally unconcerned. She knew she could find her way home from the lake, with her eyes closed if need be. This was her territory, this was her world and she was totally comfortable and at home in it.
Lifting her head slightly, she laughed as she looked down the length of her body. All she could see was two tiny, little brown hills poking up above the surface of the water, topped by two rock hard knobs. She revelled in the cool water that surrounded her and unconsciously brought one hand across her body to lightly touch the side of her left breast. Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own as the fingers walked up the side of her breast and instinctively tweaked her nipple. Her head ducked under the water in surprise as a wave of deep pleasure coursed through her body. She’d never experienced anything quite like that before. It was simultaneously delicious, exciting, dangerous, and unnerving, but one thing was for sure, it was exciting. Risking it, she tried again and rolled her thick, nub between two fingers. Again, her body responded as if in automatic gear. She felt a deep twinge in her abdomen and her legs slammed shut as the tiny electric shocks pulsed down her body and appeared to shoot from her groin area. Wow, this is incredible, Minda thought, as she floated upright and began to tread water. Her brain was experiencing what she could only describe as convulsions of pleasure as cycle after cycle of dizzying sensations seemed to roll endlessly out of her core.
“Minda! Minda, can you hear me?”
She spun her head around the lakefront, looking for the source of the man’s voice. Surely nobody had followed her out here. For God’s sake, don’t let it be Arturo, she thought frantically. If he saw me naked, he’d probably think that meant we were engaged. The light was minimal now and Minda scanned the trees on the bank for any signs of a shadow that didn’t appear natural, that was shaped like a human. Finding nothing, but certain now she was being watched, she began to make her way to shore. Terrified of exposing her breasts to some man, let alone her most private and secret of parts, rather than stand from the water, she chose to pull herself out of the water on her front. She would slither, like a snake toward her clothes. Better he sees my bum, than the other parts, was her thinking. She was panting heavily with both trepidation and excitement, although she would have denied the excitement part. As she began to emerge from the water, like a big, old crocodile, she heard the voice calling her again.
“Minda, please Minda, wake up for me.”
Wake up? Wake up? What on earth did the disembodied voice mean? She was awake damn it. She was lying on the damp lake edge, on her stomach with her naked butt thrusting
up in the air for all and sundry to see. As she scanned the trees looking for where the voice was coming from, they slowly began to fade away, like a mist lifting from the lake’s surface, until all she could see was one, long, expanse of grey. As the grey lightened and became white, she became aware of gentle fingers rolling across her shoulders, softly shaking her. Her eyelids fluttered once and then closed, as a bright light drowned her pupils in brightness. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut again, she ventured to half open one eye.
“Oh, thank God,” the voice said, “you’re finally waking up. I was beginning to think you were going to be unconscious forever.”
When her one eye finally managed to focus, she found herself staring into two, deep, dark blue pools of water, or were they eyes? She shook her head to try and bring some clarity to what she was looking at and that was a massive mistake. Electric pulses of pain rushed the short distance from her forehead to the nerve centre of her brain and she felt the tiny explosions over and over again, causing her to cry out in agony. She could feel those long, gentle fingers, placing something cold and wet on her forehead and the sharp pains quickly decreased to a gentle throbbing. Breathing out quickly she gave a long sigh of relief.
Gathering her strength, she again opened both eyes and this time was relieved and rewarded to be able to focus on what she saw. It was two eyes, just inches from her own and she could see and read the care and concern in them. Despite the unknown circumstances of her current position, she didn’t feel threatened, in fact, she felt relieved and comfortable. She thought I could lose myself forever in those deep pools and just swim quite happily for the rest of my life. A tiny smile formed on her lips as the thought occurred to her. She could feel and smell a hot breath on her cheek. It wasn’t at all unpleasant and she breathed in deeply, concentrating on the mixtures of aromas that assailed her nose. The breath itself seemed to hold a hint of peppermint, which for some reason made her think of days long ago when she and her elder siblings would gather in the kitchen to receive peppermint candies from their mother after a visit to the store. She could identify lavender as well, plus an earthy, woodlands-like smell that reminded her of the cologne her father would wear when they went to Church each Sunday. Yes, that was it – it was a man’s cologne. A MAN’S COLOGNE!
Love Beyond: Walang Hanggang Pagmamahal Page 5
