by John Muir
CHAPTER 17
RELAXING AND WATCHING
APUAO GRANDE
It was near lunch time when T.A. emerged from the bedroom for the second time that day. He had showered before Malou woke emerging in her half-sleep mode.
"C'mon, let's get out and see who else's around," T.A. invited.
The invitation took seconds, but an hour passed before she was ready. The muggy heat hit them immediately they exited the back door, and within seconds T.A. felt the beads of perspiration on his forehead.
Reaching the front lawn they saw the wild turkeys that roamed freely around the island picking at the grass on the front lawn. It brought a smile to T.A.'s face. Immediately Malou saw them she burst out laughing.
"Oh, oh, oh," yelled Malou.
"Torka, torka, torka, torka" the turkeys responded.
Malou squealed in delight.
The three males spread their tails into fans taking an aggressive posture, shaking their bodies as they strutted around the half dozen females and several chicks.
Malou laughed again. It made T.A. feel good to see her laughing even if it was only at turkeys.
Malou continued teasing the turkeys. Each time they responded to her call she burst out laughing again. She ran to T.A., kissed him on the cheek, and slipped her hand into his.
"Thank you turkeys," yelled T.A.
"Torka, torka, torka, torka" replied the turkeys.
Hand in hand, happy, they headed to the restaurant.
As they stepped into the restaurant Malou stopped and looked at the lady behind the bar.
"Is that you, Ness?"
T.A. looked too and saw the snow white smile emanating from the dark almost black face.
"It is you, Ness! Great to see you again," joined in T.A.
The big smile from behind the bar beamed wider. T.A. remembered Ness was not confident with English. She was a woman of few words anyway.
She rattled off something to Malou in Tagalog and they both laughed. Ness sneaked a quick side glance at T.A., he responded with a wink. He liked Ness for many reasons.
It had taken T.A. a long time to break through her barriers on his first visit. Perhaps he had not broken through at all, she had let him in. She had an aversion to foreigners, long being mistreated by the drunks she had to politely serve.
Ness traded swearing and abuse equally with any drunken patron, as long as management were not within earshot. On the surface it seemed good natured swearing. After letting off some choice swearing at an irksome customer, then glaring, she would look at her few accepted friends and roll her eyes full circle. Other times she would poke out her tongue when the abuser’s head was turned away.
T.A. enjoyed playing pool with Ness. She was the consummate shark, only playing well enough to just win. Staff members were not allowed to play for money against guests, so she played for cigarettes. Occasionally she would diplomatically lose.
"Well," thought T.A., "she diplomatically lost to him anyway."
T.A. and Malou had their standard pre-lunch drinks at the bar; hot tea with calamansi for Malou and cold calamansi for him. They sat in the restaurant section before giving their order to the waitress. There was no sign of Gunther and Di. A few extra people he had not seen the previous night were already eating.
With surprising swiftness their order arrived. A young couple entered the bar area with the woman carrying a fair haired pretty little girl. The girl looked about three or four years old. When they found themselves a table in the restaurant the man politely pulled out the seat for his Filipina partner, the little girl scrambled onto a seat unaided.
"Look at the little cutie," said T.A.
"She's very fair, even for a mestiza," she said, "but the wife isn’t dark like a pure Filipino."
The new-comers placed their order and were soon in quiet conversation. The little girl sitting in her own chair acting like a real lady pulled her skirt down to cover the top of her legs. The table height was presenting a problem for her until the man placed two seat squabs underneath her. At table level she sat forward, elbows on the table, chin nestled between her palms. She then examined all the other patrons in the restaurant.
Her appeal to all was instantaneous. Each passing staff member or guest made some comment to her. The island had a new darling.
Nearing completion of her meal, Malou touched T.A's arm.
"Look, there's the dog that was here last time. What's his name?"
T.A. looked at the dirty little wire haired terrier mongrel that had taken up a sitting station beneath their table.
"Fred. Hey, I'd forgotten all about you."
Malou tossed Fred the last few chips from her plate. As soon as he had scoffed them, T.A. looked at the small amount of meat still on his T-bone steak and decided Fred would appreciate a bone with a bit of meat on it.
On their last visit Fred frequently visited their house. T.A. knew it was because he put out a tin of fresh water, and occasionally some milk, for him.
Nobody knew Fred's origin. He had just appeared at the restaurant a few years before, and remained, adopting successive guests. Whether he had deserted the barrio for the better spoils of the restaurant, or fallen from, or been left behind by a visiting banca, nobody knew or cared. The management had let him stay as he was not a nuisance, and he rarely barked. He occasionally paid his dues to the restaurant management by disposing of some of the rats not taken by the kitchen python.
The kitchen python was another story. That became the unofficial guardian of the kitchen several years before as another deterrent for the rats. Management turned a blind eye to its existence as long as the resort guests were officially not aware of it. It had been brought into the restaurant by a previous staff cook, to prevent its sale to a banca owner. They were always on the lookout for a python as a rodent catcher on their vessels. The island's pythons were often sold for good money. The kitchen python was almost two metres long.
One evening, a few months previous, it had caused panic among the restaurant diners when it fell from the rafters. Panicked diners scattered, tables, crockery and cutlery were strewn widely over the floor with partly completed meals. Kitchen staff quickly retrieved their pet. After a surprisingly short time most guests were sufficiently composed to want to hold it and have photographs taken. It received a reprieve from the death sentence ordered by the management through the clemency demanded by the guests; presumably only until a further unpardonable transgression occurred.
After the table was cleared, T.A. and Malou walked out the front of the restaurant to the beach. Sitting in the shelter of the beer hut, out of the sun, they could pass the time watching any ocean activities. The beer hut was a common meeting place for the less energetic. The time of day was irrelevant here.
The resort speed boat passed by towing a very proficient skier in its wake. Further out toward Caringo, Malasugai and Quinapagayan islands in the middle distance another two guests were enjoying jet skiing. This was a new addition to the amusements offered since their last visit.
During their visits, the sea had always been flat between the western side of the island and the three islands further west. No surf, just a little ripple of waves onto the beach. T.A. guessed the distance to the other islands at four to six kilometres. Beyond them was the distant main island of Luzon.
Single plumes of smoke drifted directly skyward from the two inhabited islands of Caringo and Quinapagayan showing the lack of wind at any height. No one knew why Malasugai was unoccupied.
Two of the resort's hobie-cats were making very slow progress midway between Apuao Grande and its western neighbours. The air looked clear but T.A. still felt the muggy heat with his sweat already wetting his singlet. He decided to test the temperature of the sea with a thought to snorkelling later. He dropped the thongs from his feet but had only taken about six paces onto the unshaded sand when the heat began to burn his soles. As he started his high stepping run to the sea, he heard Malou's laughter behind him. The sea felt good. Yes, he would snorkel
the reef after his food settled.
He sand danced back to the beer hut accompanied by further laughter.
While they sat allowing the time to pass watching the off shore activities, various people came and went through the hut stopping for brief conversation before moving on.
A small banca beached to the front of the beer hut, dropped off a couple of passengers, then pulled away on its return journey.
"Hey," T.A. said to Malou. "That's the German couple that were on the bus."
"Is it? I haven't seen them before."
"No, you were asleep."
The Germans walked up the beach toting their backpacks and two long tube bags not dissimilar to T.A's. As they drew level with the beer hut T.A. called out.
"Welcome, I'm pleased you made it after all."
They looked at him a little surprised. Then the lady he remembered as Heidi recognised him and replied.
"Ya, we had a change of mind."
"We'll see you later, it's a small island."
"Ya, we check in now."
They passed by and into the restaurant.
"I'm surprised to see them. She said they weren't coming here."
"Maybe someone suggested it," replied Malou.
"Shit. He looks super fit. I wonder how she managed to land him."
"Oh, I don't know, she looks as though she has quite a nice figure."
"Yeah, maybe it's a sexual thing."
"What's a sexual thing?" the solidly built Pater said as he sat down in the shelter with T.A. and Malou.
"Hi," said T.A., surprised by the silence of Pater's approach and arrival. "We were just talking about the German couple that just came in on the banca."
"German are they? Yeah, I noticed them. She sort of gave me a funny look as she walked past."
"Well Pater, you do look frightening in your singlet and tight shorts."
Malou kicked him under the table losing one of her thongs in the process.
T.A. felt a kinship with Pater more than just their being of a similar age. Pater had kept his body in good shape despite the large amount of beer he drank. T.A by contrast drank very little alcohol, but by comparison with Pater's hard muscular build, T.A. felt a little flabby. Perhaps there was a little bit of envy in what Pater had achieved, although much of what he did was a mystery. Pater was not a secretive person; he just did not speak about what he did. He had a seemingly endless collection of stories and jokes from the many different countries he had been to.
"How long are you here for this time?" asked Pater.
"No real timetable. Maybe two or three weeks. Time isn't important. We'll just leave when we've had enough," replied T.A.
"Why don't you buy a block of land here and build a house? You fit in well with all the permanents here."
"Thanks Pater but I don't have that sort of spare cash. I've often thought I'd like to retire here, but I have to amass my fortune first."
"Shit, you don't need a fortune. There are a couple of extra sections available at the moment. I don't know how many more will be available later, if any."
"Don't worry; the thought has crossed my mind."
"This time, while you're here, come to my little place for a beer. Anytime. I don't invite many guests to share my cold beer. And, I don’t expect to get any calls away to urgent jobs, so I’ll be around."
"Thanks again." T.A. felt complimented. He knew Pater rarely offered invitations.
"We will. What do you do with the rest of the spare time you've got?" asked T.A.
Pater turned his face slightly presenting more of the left hand side. "Sorry I didn't catch what you said."
T.A. slightly increased the volume of what he said. "I was just asking about your spare time on the Island."
"Time passes quite easily. Occasionally I get a job overseeing an engineering project overseas for a few days up to a few months. While I'm here I'm just happy to let the time pass. Like most of the ex-pats, I use the resort facilities, easier than cleaning the kitchen."
They sat in silence watching the activities off shore.
Ness entered the beer hut from the restaurant. In her silent fashion she was asking whether we wanted drinks. She looked at Malou.
Malou raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. "No thanks Ness."
"Beer for me," replied Pater, "what about you T.A?"
"Not a beer yet Ness, but I'd love another long cool calamansi drink."
Ness nodded and made her way back to the restaurant.
"I notice you turning your head to listen with your left ear. What’s wrong?"
"Yeah, the hearing in my right ear got a little buggered on my last job, standing too close to a seismic test explosion. It’ll come right, given time."
T.A. spoke unnecessarily loud. "I heard that too much sex makes you deaf."
"What?" yelled Pater at the top of his voice.
They both laughed.
T.A. looked at Malou for approval and got the dagger look back.
"Hey," said Pater, "how about joining me in shooting a few arrows on the range later in the afternoon? You can hire a restaurant bow and a few arrows. I've got my own."
"I've done a bit. I'm not too good though," replied T.A. modestly. "I'll be a starter if you're willing. What time?"
"I'll collect you later, after siesta. You're in the Brooke house again aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"Bring a few cold beers; it's hot work."
They lapsed into relaxed silence again. Ness brought the drinks, and T.A. thought about his limited skills with the bow. He was better than many but he had only ever been a social archer, never having entered any competitions.
T.A. felt more relaxed than he had for months. The silence between T.A. and Pater was neither forced nor uncomfortable. It was the silence only capable between friends who did not need words.
The next half hour or so passed interspersed with occasional small talk, re-supplying of drinks, or the passing by of other guests on their way down to the water; most ending up doing the hot-sand dance. The jet skis were pulled up on the sand above the high water mark. At nightfall they were dragged into the shed by the beer hut. T.A. thought he would try jet skiing on this visit.
Pater stood up to go. "Siesta time, I'll call in when it cools down a bit."
"Sounds good to me," replied T.A.
With that Pater left.
T.A. looked at Malou.
"Swim?" he asked.
"You go. It's too hot for me."
"I mean snorkelling. We'll have to go back to the house to get the fins and masks."
T.A. knew Malou, like most other Filipino women, disliked getting sunburnt. While European races spent hours trying to get a beautiful tan like the Filipinos', Filipina avoided the sun in an effort to get fairer skin. Richer Filipina spent a fortune undergoing skin bleaching treatments to make their skins whiter.
"I'm not going far out, just to the little reef in the front."
"All right, but not for long."
