The Siege Of Apuao Grande

by John Muir

CHAPTER 49

  THE AWAKENING

  MANILA

  T.A. kept his eyes closed. He knew it must be daytime as strong light penetrated the skin of his eyelids. The remnants of a headache clung behind his eyes and he was fearful if he opened them, the pain would increase.

  From the feeling of softness behind his head and neck he knew there were pillows. He opened his palms and slid his hands slowly up to his chest. Those senses revealed he was between sheets.

  He listened for the familiar sounds of the island, the daytime background of the cicadas. He could not hear them. He concentrated on smell to pick up the sea, instead, a very strong antiseptic smell made him screw up his nose. Perhaps Malou was cleaning the toilet or hand-basin.

  He remembered about the bad dream he had been having. It must have been a dream. But how come Malou was cleaning while he had slept?

  T.A. moved his hand to rub the tight feeling around his head. His arms and elbows felt sore. He felt stiffness and aching in his back. Pain protested any movement. Even though he moved his arm slowly, they lacked proper coordination and control. When his hand shakily reached the side of his head where he felt the strongest constricting feeling, it bumped into his head and a searing pain shot in a line along the side of his head. He screwed up his face then quickly stopped as the pain worsened.

  With the pain causing him to breathe deeply, he allowed himself several deep breaths, and tried to think about what had happened and was happening.

  It had not been a dream. He had seen Malou in bed with that Filipino resort guest. There had been fighting at the resort. He had been with Pater and he remembered he had seen pink running shoes.

  Much slower this time, he felt for the answer to the restricting feeling around his head. It was bandages. Why?

  He knew he was in bed, but by now all his senses told him he was not in familiar surroundings. He had to risk the pain and open his eyes.

  He opened his eyes slowly. Strange floral patterns near the end of his bed made him open and close his eyes to adjust his sight in an effort to recognise them. There was no great surge of pain, but confusion at the surroundings. The floral patterns were on curtains. He moved his gaze left and right. The curtains surrounded the bed. Casting his eyes higher he noticed the curtains hung from a frame. Above that the ceiling was high and white.

  Somehow it did not seem a surprise that it was probably a hospital. It was just that he could not remember getting there.

  As he tried to sit up, all of his muscles and a few other areas were protesting. He was vaguely aware of the moaning sounds of protest he was making.

  A face wearing a white nurse's hat and glasses appeared through a gap in the curtains.

  "Oh, you're awake at last," said the face which was soon followed by a slightly plump woman dressed in her all white nurse's uniform.

  She helped T.A. sit up and found extra pillows to help prop him comfortably.

  "I'll tell the doctor," she said before disappearing back through the gap in the curtains.

  T.A. hoped she would not rush back. He needed time to think.

  The nurse was Filipina so he had to presume he was still in the Philippines. The memory of what had happened slowly came back to him over the next few minutes. His brain was clearing more with each passing minute. Presumably, if he had been hurt, they may have injected him with some sort of pain-killer while he recovered. He wondered what he might have said.

  The curtains jerked back in an overt display of theatre as a Filipino in a traditional white doctor's coat stepped through followed by the nurse.

  "Ah, Mr Cholmondely-Tapper, it is good to see you finally awake."

  T.A. cringed at the use of his family name. “It’s pronounced Chumley-Tapper. Though it doesn’t look like it written down. Just call me T.A.” The man he presumed to be a doctor, had pronounced it wrong as did most people including English speakers. They all seemed to prefer to pronounce it how it looked.”

  "All right. T.A. then. I guess you're wondering where you are and have all sorts of questions for us. Well, we've got a lot of things we will need to ask you too. Actually there are lots of people wanting to talk to you."

  T.A. felt his head nod painfully in the affirmative.

  He heard the doctor begin the explanation of where he was, but T.A.'s mind drifted as he began to think about what he might have to explain. He did not feel he was ready for that yet.

  When the doctor had seemingly finished his explanation, T.A. realised he had not heard a thing the doctor had said.

  "Well?' asked the doctor.

  "Sorry," said T.A., "I seem to have missed your question."

  "I was just asking if you were ready to answer some questions the army has for you."

  "I don't seem to remember much. I don't even know how I got here."

  "Well it seems your powers of concentration are a bit lost, temporarily I assure you, and not uncommon in this type of case."

  "But what happened?"

  "Ah ha, I didn't think you heard me the first time. You came out of the rain forest nearly a day and a half after the army had liberated the island. Some resort guests had hidden in the jungle and came out as soon as the NPA had left. But after a head count and a roll call, as well as yourself, there were two other guests and an ex-pat missing. Everyone thought you and the others had escaped to another island, or worse still were dead. The army found quite a few bodies and want to know about them."

  'Oh hell,' thought T.A. He knew he did not want to be asked about any of them.

  "Sorry, I don't know about any bodies," said T.A.

  "Well perhaps you can tell us who put the dressing on your head wound. It was an excellent job they did."

  "I don't know. I didn't know it had been done."

  "I'm sure it'll all come back in time."

  "Yeah."

  "There are some letters on your table, and several people, including your embassy, telephoning."

  "Yeah," T.A. repeated. He needed to think what his responses should be. He had to go over in his mind what his story should be.

  "I think I need to rest again doc."

  "Certainly. The nurse will just take your pulse. Then we'll leave you alone for a while to gather your thoughts. We have put some newspapers on your table so you can see what has been happening. Don't read for too long though, it might give you a headache."

  "O.K."

  The doctor opened the drawer of T.A.'s bedside table and extracted a large collection of different sized envelopes. "Here's some cards and letters that have been accumulating while you been here. Take your time, I'll be back later."

  With that, to T.A's relief, the doctor left. The nurse, after taking T.A's pulse without comment followed soon after.

  He was surprised at the number of letters as he flicked through them. Some were typed, signifying something official contained therein. He put those aside to concentrate on the hand-addressed envelopes. Some he recognised as Malou's handwriting, one other he did not.

  Seeing Malou's handwriting made him feels knots in his stomach and his heart skip. He thought for a moment about just throwing them away, unread. He put them aside and examined the letter that was different. It bore a Pasay City postmark.

  He opened it and unfolded the two sheets.

  "Dear T.A.. It may be confusing to receive a letter such as this from a stranger. But I would ask you to read it with thoughts about where you have come from, where you have been and what you have seen."

  'Shit', thought T.A., some weirdo preaching something, and he flipped to the second page to see who the writer was. It was signed "Father Thyme, (and not as in time flies like an arrow). That did not clarify anything, He decided to read on.

  "Always remember to look through the bushes and not over them. Look and listen for what is not there."

  "Jesus," muttered T.A. as he flicked to the last page again. 'It's Pater, Pater, like Father.' He read on.

  "Remember, we cannot all be like what we seem to be and often things are best
left unsaid. In life, as in death, there are many sharks that surround the island that is ourselves. Life's journeys can have us taken by those sharks."

  "I would love to visit and chat with you on a personal basis, but my urgent ministries elsewhere, while overcoming certain injuries myself, will not permit that to be done at present. However I am sure that you could always hold me to a promise of a cold beer some day. Best Wishes for full recovery, Father Thyme (and not as in time flies like an arrow)."

  T.A. felt the smile come to his face, even though it gave him some discomfort. Pater was alive. He sat back and thought about what was written.

  It was very obtuse. Pater had not signed it with his own name yet obviously wanted T.A. to know who it was from while remaining anonymous and vague to any other possible reader.

  He knew what Pater was asking of him and he knew what story needed to be told, or not told.

  T.A. picked up Malou's envelopes again, they were thick. He looked at them for a few seconds. He desperately wanted to read them. There were so many things which might explain why she did what she did. He wanted her to be with him, fussing around and caring for him. Yet he also knew that if she was capable of cheating once, she would do it again.

  Grasping each of the letters, he tore them in two, tore each of the halves again before looking for the bedside rubbish container and tossing the pieces into it.

  He turned his attention to the pile of newspapers. T.A. was surprised at the front page reports and interviews with hostages from dozens of different resorts that had been taken over. He had not known the action was also outside of Apuao Grande. All the major resorts were down-playing the events in case it scared tourists away, and at the same time making the most of the minor events that had happened to attract free advertising.

  T.A. was surprised to read that there were few casualties or injuries anywhere else. One paper reported an interview on page three with a hostage held on Apuao Grande, but he didn't recognise the name of the tourist. It was only a small section just below the report of a Greek freighter sinking en route to the Mediterranean soon after leaving Zamboanga. The report of the ship's captain Con Theodopolous suggested that a sudden cargo shift had caused the rapid and unexpected sinking. The captain and the small crew, who were all Greek, were safe.

  T.A. let the newspapers slip to the floor and closed his eyes. He was not sure if he had dozed but opened his eyes at the parting of the curtains and the return of the doctor.

  "Ah, you're awake then. If you're feeling up to it there is a police captain would like to ask you a few questions. They think you might be the hero that dealt with a few of the guerillas on the island."

  The doctor turned without waiting for T.A's response and pulled the curtain back slightly.

  A solidly built uniformed policeman entered. T.A. could not tell the difference between the police uniform and the army uniform.

  "This is Captain de Ocera."

  After the Captain mis-pronounced his name, and he repeated the explanation, he listened to the Captain. He explained that the army and police wanted to know about the bodies they had found and how T.A. could explain how he suffered his injuries.

  To T.A. it was almost as though he was outside of himself as he told his story. He explained his escape from the tennis court, but had not seen anyone else in the rain forest either NPA or other escaped tourists. He had been moving from his place of hiding to see what the shooting was about when he had been attacked by someone wearing a mask. They had just appeared from out the jungle. He did not know how he came to suffer the grazing shot along the side of his head and had no idea who had bandaged his head.

  T.A. apologised to the captain for not being able to assist and suggested his injuries were causing some partial amnesia. T.A. noticed the doctor nod his head in agreement.

  The captain left. Satisfied or not, T.A. did not care, he was just pleased that the captain had not pushed him.

  "Tomorrow or the next day, if you think you are fit enough to travel, we'll set you up in a first class air ticket to your home," said the doctor.

  "I can't afford that," replied T.A.

  "That's all being paid for by your embassy. Special medical case they said. I'll let you rest now. I'll look in again later."

  "Thanks for everything doctor."

  "You're welcome."

  T.A. watched the doctor pass through the curtains.

  It would be good to be back home, safe in his little unit again.