by John Muir
CHAPTER 24
PODGY HODGE
APUAO GRANDE
Nobody knew why Podgy Hodge did it. Perhaps Podgy did not know why either. He was not a stranger to physical violence. His father used to beat him for no apparent reason after many of his father's long drinking bouts. Although Podgy could not remember when they started he remembered very well when they stopped.
On his fourteenth birthday Podgy's mum gave him a miniature baseball set. A few days later, his father came home drunk yet again after another of his long and too frequent drinking bouts. Whenever these occasions happened Podgy would attempt to surreptitiously sneak away to his room. There, the inside lock and the solidity of the heavy wooden door would save him. That night he made as if to casually pick up his precious birthday gifts. As he picked up the baseball and his catcher's mitten, he noticed the bat was too close to his father to be unnoticeably recovered. Despite the risk he made his way slowly toward the bat. Suddenly his father reached out his long skinny arms, not to grab him, but to grab the baseball bat. Podgy somehow knew he was in big trouble this time and tried even quicker to skirt around his father to the safety of his bedroom.
Sensing, not seeing the swinging bat, his arm automatically raised to defend against the anticipated blow. As it struck, the pain shot from his forearm to his shoulder. It hurt like he could never remember hurting before. He lost balance, falling as the next blow ricocheted off his raised legs onto his nose. The cracking of the bones in his nose seemed to send knife stabs across his whole face as he kicked out with his feet. Luck in his blind panic scored the vulnerable place between his father's legs. His father doubled up in pain. Podgy noticed blood splatters on his father's shirt and instinctively knew it was his own, not his father`s blood. All defensive control snapped as he lunged for his father`s eyes, tearing any way he could. His father dropped the bat to cover his eyes. Podgy pounced on the bat and swung it wide onto his father`s ear. As his father stumbled and fell to the floor Podgy swung the bat down on him again and again, over the legs, arms and any part of the body that had been inflicting pain on him for years. His arms suddenly seemed to be surrounded and his ears were filled with screaming. It seemed to take an age before he realised his mother was holding him from behind and screaming for him to stop. Podgy broke free and ran with his precious possessions to the safety of his bedroom.
Time allowed the broken nose to heal, although he was left with a nose flattened like a boxer's. Though the bruising faded quickly on him he was pleased that some of the bruising never faded on his father`s face. His father never hit him again.
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Podgy now watched the small slow steady flow of blood from his companion Ruth’s nose and cut lip. His darling little Ruth, why had she done it? The striking blow from the swinging M16 barrel was clearly meant for him yet she moved so fast to put herself between him and the arrogant animal swinging the gun. She seemed to move almost before the strike. His mother had never done that. She had only watched silently, head bowed while his father beat him. Now Podgy watched as a different, but far more loving woman tried to wipe the blood from her own nose and lip with the back of her hand. Instead it only spread the blood over those lovely high cheek bones which Podgy could remember gently kissing only a few hours before. Her little button nose that he teased her about was already horribly swollen and seemingly slightly off centre.
The more the blood continued to flow, the more Podgy’s body rose and fell with his breathing. The Animal continued to strut backwards and forwards in front of the seated group, pointing his M16 at someone, saying "Bang!", and then burst out laughing. He was laughing as he walked past Podgy.
Podgy's massive bulk sprang out of its chair, hands going straight for the eye slits of the hooded Animal. But the Animal was no drunken over-weight old man. Although Podgy reached the Animal's hood and grabbed hold, the Animal brought the M16 butt up into Podgy`s stomach with a vicious blow expecting it to double Podgy over in pain. But Podgy`s forward impetus was greater than the counter blow. Although he missed the eyes he held on to the hood and jerked it with all his strength twisting the Animal's head sharply and causing him to temporarily lose balance.
The eye slits were now out of place and the Animal could not see. Podgy swung his fat heavy forearm hitting the Animal heavily across his nose. His vision blocked, the Animal panicked and tore off his own hood to see where the attack was coming from. Podgy had fallen from putting excess weight behind a misdirected blow. The now hoodless Animal saw him. Podgy clambered slowly to his feet for another charge.
The Animal laughed as he fired an un-aimed shot from his waist catching Podgy above the knee throwing him back to the floor. Podgy, despite his wound, had rolled to a crouch like a sprinter ready to start. The Animal was a moustached Arab, not a Filipino. He motioned Podgy with his M16 barrel to come again.
Somehow Podgy obliged, staggered to his feet, and charged. About a metre from the Arab the second shot hit Podgy in the stomach. Now his forward movement was too great for the bullet to stop him and the M16 barrel was in Podgy's stomach when the third shot exploded. The amazed Arab felt the big arms and body pushing him rapidly backwards. He kept pulling the trigger, the bullets flying from the stomach out of Podgy's back. The Animal was wishing he had not switched to single shot.
His back hit the sharp slate tiled edge of the bar with all of Podgy's massive weight pushing him. He heard a crack and felt a soaring pain right up to his brain. He could see the lights on the ceiling and was only aware of a general sense of the body on top of him because he could see it. He could not feel any weight. He wanted to throw it off him but nothing moved. It was as if his arms and legs were restrained, and his neck too. He tried to look around for help, then he realised he could not do that either.
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T.A. did not know whether he had been frozen to his seat with fear, hypnotised by the happenings, or whether they had all occurred with such rapidity that he had not had a chance to react. Yet it had all seemed to happen in slow motion. He became very aware of the mix of women screaming, men swearing, and guards yelling and threateningly pushing rifle barrels toward anyone trying to move out of their seats. Other guards were forcing some hostages out from under tables where they had dived when the first shot was fired.
Disorganised panic among some of their outside captors made some run into the restaurant firing in the air to frighten and deter anyone who might think of making a break for it in the pandemonium. The mayhem of screaming and yelling continued with each burst of automatic weapons-fire. Inside, each of the captive men with partners was trying to console his woman. The single men still screamed abuse at their captors as their only safe way to react.
T.A. did not know how long this went on before the guards regained some semblance of order and control. It seemed many minutes but was probably only seconds. T.A. was thankful the guards had quickly regained control. There were some alcohol affected hot-heads among the guests who might react with more than abuse, their courage boosted by excess amounts consumed earlier in the night, and their common sense diminished by the interrupted sleep. It was a time for cool heads, thought T.A., not the senseless bravado of Podgy. Perhaps the provocation Podgy had was greater than anyone else, though it had seemingly cost him his life.
As the weeping diminished into sobbing, T.A. looked past Malou's shoulder at the still form of Podgy still lying across the Animal on top of the bar. The Animal looked dead as he had not moved after hitting the edge of the bar with his back. T.A. was sure he could still see the Animal's eyes moving. If so, it was the only part of his body that did seem to be moving. After a few seconds he noticed that there was an occasional movement spasm of nerves in the Animal's fingers. He had seen that sort of movement before in rabbits he had shot. T.A. had heard the crack of the Animal's back as loudly as if there had been total silence in the room. Instinct told him that the Animal's back had been snapped, even though he had never heard a sound like that before.
Podgy had too many larg
e holes in his back to still be alive. T.A. wondered what had happened to Ruth during all this; then he spotted her sobbing in the arms of Ness. He could not even remember how Malou had got into his arms. Had he grabbed her, or had she grabbed him? T.A. watched two of the captors walk backward to where the inert figures lay, carefully keeping a wary eye on the now seemingly subdued captives.
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The Animal felt nothing, but his eyes saw the large lifeless body on top of him. Yet the body seemed weightless. His eyes watched the others of his group dragging the restricting body off him. Even free of that, he could not move. He could not make any sense out of the voices that seemed to come to him through an empty tin. He knew something was very wrong.
Podgy's lifeless body was dropped on the floor as the Animal's companions laid the Animal flat on his back on top of the bar, placing one of the rolled up bar towels under his neck.
Podgy's eyes too were open but were seeing nothing. His brain was asking, "Why Dad were you always hitting me and calling me a bastard?" He knew he looked neither like his mother or his father and his hair had always been rusty coloured. No; not now. Tears started to flow out of his lifeless eyes he suddenly began realising a thought that had never occurred to him before. He was not his father's son.
Then his thoughts clouded, and his brain, like his body, died.
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A new group of six hooded guerillas rushed into the restaurant, weapons at the ready, obviously arriving in response to the gunfire of a few seconds earlier. They looked expectantly and nervously around the guests, pointing their weapons menacingly, before each saw the two bodies and then started a second round of nervous posturing and yelling. One of the new arrivals grabbed one of the guards by the shirt and dragged him outside, out of earshot of any of the guests.
Returning after a few minutes, the shorter one was obviously very agitated and walked straight to the bar where the Arab was lying, picked up a another loose towel and in anger threw it straight at the face of the non-feeling Arab. Then stepping back, allowed two others to roughly drag the limp body of the Arab off the bar by his arms, out of the darkened front of the restaurant towards the sea.
The short new-comer bent over the body of Podgy and with a shake of the head then looked up in the direction of Ruth. Ruth did not see the guerilla looking at her and everyone jumped again as another gunshot came from in front of the restaurant in the direction of where the Animal was dragged. Within seconds, the two who had dragged the Arab outside returned and with the aid of two more of their colleagues lifted Podgy's body on to the top of the bar. Another guerilla appeared from the back of the restaurant and covered the body with a sheet.
One of the guards began counting the captives and after completing this action returned to the short new-comer and nodded. In response, the short one waved an arm, turned an about face and was followed out by the other new arrivals.
Two of the guards went behind the bar, broke off the padlock to the large fridge and began to place bottles of soft drinks on the vacant bar space around Podgy's body, opening each before setting them down. When they had finished opening about seventy assorted bottles, they moved to the front of the bar and leaned against it as though waiting for something else to happen.
Their actions seemed to reduce tension or perhaps T.A. only imagined it.
When most of the loud crying had diminished into sobbing, the two guards leaning on the front of the bar passed their weapons to their colleagues, picked up as many drinks as they could carry and began to pass drinks out among the captives who would accept them.
Many refused out of obstinate pride, others out of shock or disbelief as to the guards' intentions. Some, including T.A., accepted. He thought their offer was confirmation of his previous thought about a sudden less aggressive attitude by the guerillas.
But T.A.'s main thoughts, probably like most other people, were with Podgy. What a tragic and farcical situation. Podgy was not going to leave the Philippines without his lovely Ruth. Now he was not going to be leaving the Philippines at all.
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About ten minutes after the guerillas had given them the drinks, first one, then another group of six hooded guerillas arrived. One of the last arrivals stepped forward, M16 hanging over his shoulder, clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention, then pushed his hands out in front of him in a settle-down gesture.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the accent was that of the well educated Filipino, still with that strong sing-song lilt in many of their voices.
"Although we genuinely regret the unfortunate incident that has occurred, you must all understand that we have come here with a mission to achieve. Once we have achieved the aims of our mission, as you were told before, you will all be released. We wanted to be able to release you all unharmed. The incident that has happened could happen again, if you try any more foolish actions. What we must now do is to see to it that the chance of it happening again is reduced to a minimum. To that end we will now be separating the guests into smaller groups. I ask for your co-operation, but if we don't get it then please understand that we don't have time to argue or debate the point. Anyone objecting will simply be shot in the legs and then carried to where they were supposed to go before the argument."
A murmur of doubt and uncertainty went around the room and T.A. was sure everyone cast a quick glance in the direction of Podgy's body.
"The first step is the separation of Filipinos from non-Filipino. There is no sinister intent with this; merely that we are sure that the Filipinos in the group are more understanding of the aims of the NPA, and more easily realise that we do not intend them any harm.” Pointing to Podgy’s body, “It is unfortunately precisely this type of misunderstanding that occurred has resulted in the death of your friend."
T.A. thought it was a bit late to tell Podgy that he had died because of a misunderstanding.
"Although I will concede," he went on, "our compatriot may have been over- zealous; he was attacked by one of you. The safest thing is to ensure it doesn't happen again. The only time trouble will result is if any of you attempt to hinder our aims, or try to escape. All those of Filipino descent, whether they are still Filipino citizens or not, will remain here under guard. For those of you with partners I will give you two minutes; then you will separate. The non-Filipinos will move to the end of the restaurant nearest the bar. Non-Filipino children must go with the non-Filipino group."
T.A. noticed Malou was trembling, or perhaps she was still shaking from the first incident. While he was holding her he noticed a further group of six hooded guerillas arriving. That now made thirty, no, twenty-nine with the Animal now probably dead, hopefully shot after he was dragged away. It was no time or place to argue with that number of guns.
While the guests were talking animatedly in twos or threes, several of the guerillas had pushed the tables onto the flower beds outside, with the exception of two which they placed across the centre of the restaurant as an obvious division for separating the Filipinos from non-Filipino guests.
T.A. wondered where many of the staff were? He had only seen Ben the manager, the diving instructor and his wife, his assistant, the terrified guard, Ness, and one other Filipino office girl. Perhaps the others had not been caught.
As soon as the room division was done, the educated Filipino again clapped his hands for attention.
"Please now, the sooner this is done, the sooner we will be able to finish our mission and leave this island."
Last hugs were being given. T.A. tried to console Malou, without a great deal of success. He noticed a few others were having similar difficulties. Those with "paid-for partners" generally were having less difficulty separating and many had already moved to the allocated area of the restaurant.
The guerillas moved in among the last few couples still clinging together, which included T.A. and Malou. This time the guerillas again postured threateningly and meant business. This was confirmed as he had a muzzle jamm
ed sharply into his back with a "Move!" command simultaneously barked into his ear. The sudden pain made him immediately release his grip on Malou and he turned to face his protagonist. One look into the gun-toting hooded guerilla's eyes was enough to make him realise that the guerilla meant business. Malou screamed in response to his pain.
"I'm O.K.," he reassured her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it just gave me a bit of a surprise, that's all."
He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead and they turned away from each other to walk to the different ends of the restaurant.
As he was moving away, he heard screaming and crying. He turned to see Doug and Alona being forcefully separated. Their personal separation was not the trouble, but the guerilla separating them was trying to take their daughter away from Alona and give her to Doug. Alona was screaming in whatever language she was hoping they would understand, even in English.
"She is my daughter," Alona screamed. "She is Filipino."
"No," replied the guerilla in English, "Filipinos do not have blond hair."
T.A. wanted to step in and say something, but his personal protagonist gave him another jab in almost the identical spot.
He realised that anyone not aware of Doug and Alona's relationship, with the child being so white skinned and with blond hair, it would be impossible for a stranger to believe the little girl was a Filipino Mestiza.
Eventually the speaker stepped in, and grabbed the little girl from both of them. They looked at him as he turned to Alona and muttered something in Tagalog, Alona burst into tears.
"No," she yelled, and turned and ran to the group of Filipinos.
"What did you say you bastard?" Doug glared at the hooded guerilla.
"If you don’t take the little girl I will cut your testicles off."
He thrust the youngster at Doug and glared right back at him.
"You Americano bastards come to the Philippines, fuck our women, and take no responsibility for what you've done. You take this one or I will castrate you with the greatest delight."
Doug was surprised by the bitterness of the reply, and clasping the little girl close to him he moved to the non-Filipino group.
Some guerillas stood between the two groups, and the speaker now said to the non-Filipinos.
"Follow me."
Leading, each side, and behind the group about twenty guerillas escorted the non-Filipinos out the back of the restaurant, past the swimming pool, and toward the tennis court. T.A. realised as soon as he saw it ahead of them, all lit up, that it was to be their place of internment.
They were counted as they were ushered singly through the small entry door. T.A. looked up once he was inside. He guessed the height of the top wires at something over three metres, perfect for the guerillas' purpose. High wire, one narrow entry, and floodlit for night tennis. A simple way for four guards, one stationed outside the tennis court at each corner, to police the activities of the fifty or so foreigners held within.
The leader padlocked the only entry door, looked up, and said:
"Some of my men will gather blankets, pillows and insect repellent and deliver them shortly. Tomorrow, you will be allowed to get a mattress each. After that, anyone causing trouble will have his mattress confiscated. Tins for toilets will also be provided in a few minutes, together with drinking water. Don't waste the water."
With that, he turned and walked back in the direction of the restaurant.
T.A., like Doug and all the others interned inside the tennis court began to wonder about what might now happen to those partners left behind in the restaurant.
