by John Muir
CHAPTER 7
THE PACKAGE
Marivic was as curious as she was suspicious of who the parcel was from, and what it might contain. She had begun displaying a little too much possessiveness for T.A.'s liking, and frequent signs of jealousy if he even glanced at another woman.
T.A. threw the large parcel onto the bed and began to open the envelope. Marivic began to tear at the tape like a child with Christmas presents. It briefly crossed his mind to tell her that the parcel was addressed to him, but decided against it. She was enjoying the surprise. By now, she was treating whatever was his, was hers.
The letter was on 'Robinson's Department Store' letterhead paper. He began to read it.
"Dear Sir,
We were dismayed to believe about the incident on the outside our store last evening.
The security that would normally be putting there attendance at the door had been called away to help stop stealing cash into a security van for the days takings.
Normally this does not happen and security will be sticking on all doors. But sickness said we could not provide our full security on all doors.
I was told that a small suitcase was badly hurt and damaged in the happening.
It is my hope that this suitcase will be a replacement suitable.
Please feel free to visit us again and to change the new case we have given you for another if it is not to your satisfaction.
Again I apologize for the absence of our assistance and am joyfully pleased to know that no personal injury was suffered.
We all hope you to keep all your remains for the rest of your trip and are very successful
Your's faithfully
Eduardo Eustacio
Manager"
T.A. nodded to himself at this extremely generous piece of public relations. The English may not have been good, though it seemed they had used spell-check, probably American. The message was perfectly clear. T.A. felt he definitely wanted to keep all his remains.
He looked at Marivic who had only just managed to tear part of the wrapping. She was not interested in the explanatory letter and was busy trying to fold the remains of the plastic back from around the case.
She oohed and aahed at the case before looking at T.A.
"Who gave you this one?' she demanded of him.
"Robinson's. To replace the one that was damaged."
"How do you know?"
T.A. waved the letter before he passed it to her. She merely read the letterhead and ignored the rest.
The replacement case was a far better quality and far more expensive than that which Marivic had bought.
"Can I have the new one?" she asked.
"Of course, it’s yours. It was your case that was damaged."
He watched her open it out and go through all the pockets and zip up areas.
"I might give the old one to my Mum and keep the new one. I can get the old one fixed."
T.A. rang reception and they eventually put him through to Eduardo Eustacio at Robinson's.
The thank you; and conversation, went on much longer than T.A. felt comfortable with, but Eduardo Eustacio was milking the store’s gift for all it was worth. Marivic remained oblivious to the fact T.A. was even on the phone. The new case had her total attention.
Within a couple of hours, a canvas craftsman had repaired the small cut in the old case so well it was almost unnoticeable. The bottom of the wooden bowl had been penetrated by the thrust, but another craftsman had filled that with some plastic substitute that T.A. could barely spot the original damage.
T.A. offered to deliver the bag and bowl to her family in Iligan. He reminded her that he would be there in about eight to ten days after going to Cagayan de Oro.
She pursed her lips and put on a sulking look
"My sisters are prettier than me. You might marry one of them instead."
'Whoa,' thought T.A. This was not the conversation he was expecting and definitely not wanting to become involved in.
"Hey, let's get to know each other over a bit longer time first."
"But why aren't you taking me to the Visayas with you."
"I have to meet some clients in Cagayan de Oro," he lied. "They are expecting me to be alone."
"I can hide when they see you."
"These clients are from the Church. If they thought I was doing something bad my boss would lose the contract. And I might lose my job."
The white lie was becoming more and more complex.
"Please Marivic. Don't make things difficult."
Her mouth had turned down, and she sat on the bed avoiding his gaze. Her eyes were darting around looking at non existent items on the floor. He was expecting a tantrum any moment. Thankfully it did not eventuate.
Her face suddenly lit up. "You can tell my family that you met me in the office here and you are doing work with the people I work for."
"Agreed. They would think it strange if your bosses let you travel away with people they were doing work with wouldn't they?"
"Then you'll come straight back to Manila?"
Oh my God, thought T.A. Once the lies start you are trapped into continuing them.
"No, I have to go on to Zamboanga I think. It will depend on what my boss says on the phone after I see the priests." More lies. He was going to spend some time snorkelling the reefs around Dakak.
"But that's all Muslim territory."
"I know, and they're not like what you've been taught in Catholic schools. I have read a lot about the history of Mindanao." At least here he was able to tell the truth. In fact he felt quite well read about various movements for the independence of Mindanao, and its long history.
"If you came with me, your parents would think it very strange, and you might be in danger. The Moros might attack you with a kris or kampilan."
She looked at him unsure if he was serious.
"Why don't you write a letter to your Mum, wrap up the parcel and the bowl, write the address in my notebook and I'll deliver it all for you."
She nodded in agreement, gathered the hotel stationery and began writing.
"You carry on with your letter. I'll see if reception has got some nice paper they can wrap your gift in; and some sticky tape of course."
She never even noticed him leave, or return a few minutes later with plain brown paper and sticky tape.
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The next four days passed too quickly for T.A., and thankfully, they passed without incidents.
On one of those days, T.A. was able to speak briefly to Nilo when Nilo called out to him from inside a packed jeepney paused at a red light, engine revving ready to jump across a lane.
"I hope I see you again T.A." Nilo called out. “I’ve got to go home to Cagayan de Oro for a while to see my family. It would be good if you saw my part of the Philippines. I have friends with bancas who could take you fishing. Another cousin works in a shop and he will give you a good price."
"I'm going to be in Cagayan de Oro in a few days too. Then I'll either go on to Camiguin Island or Dakak. Please leave a message for me at the VIP Hotel in Cagayan, letting me know where I can phone you. Please be my guide round Cagayan, I'll pay you."
“Yeah, that’d be good. You are my Kiwi cousin. I’ll give you a very good rate. I’ll tell my friends you’re coming.”
"Nilo, thanks for what you did at Robinson's. You are a true friend."
"Your lady will take good care of you in Manila."
The jeepney anticipated the green light by about three seconds and moved off. T.A. felt disappointed he could not show his appreciation to Nilo in a more tangible manner.
Together, T.A. and Marivic visited tourist spots, did more shopping, mostly without buying anything, and spent good times in bed.
Marivic would not let him go into any of the 'girlie bars' any more. She said 'someone would try and pick him up'. So the early parts of the evening were spent either listening to a bad three piece band in the Swagman, out dancing at a nightclub or singing at a karaoke bar.
M
arivic was content to stay within the doors of the Swagman during the day or early evenings, watching cable television. It was always at his request that they went out. He did not want her to get bored with his company. Her gift to her Mother was already wrapped, letter completed, and safely stored in his bag. She wrote her home address for both Manila and Iligan in his address book, apologised for the lack of a phone at her parents place, and promised she would not go back to work at the 'girlie bar' while he was away. That worried T.A. He felt he was being trapped into providing for a dependant that he did not really want yet.
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Linamon, West Mindanao.
Salim Hassan always hated travelling to and from Iligan; even more so since his wife's death. Any separation from his home and his daughters made him sense more acutely the permanent separation from a future from his beloved.
But this time the need for travel to Iligan was intricately linked to the part of his psyche that wanted to avenge her death.
He, at last, had what he was seeking. Yamada was in Cagayan de Oro, and Salim had a timetable of Yamada's expected itinerary over the next few days.
He would have to rush to call in the favours that had been promised him. Not all those who had promised help would be able to be where he would need them at the right time. His kin in Linamon would not be a problem. But the real muscle and weapons from his contacts within the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) would take time to arrive.
His plan would fail without their help. He knew they would have to be circumspect in assisting in a private feud. No matter what happened, the Government would all too quickly point the accusing finger at the MNLF as the perpetrators, whether they were involved or not. That would attract Government retaliation against any Muslim families, MNLF connected or not.
Though Salim was prepared to take that risk, many of the MNLF independence fighters were not. The only definite thing, on which he could rely, was the promise of automatic weapons.
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Manila, Luzon.
Two nights before T.A. was about to leave on his trip south to Cagayan de Oro City, Marivic was providing him with another of the shower washes that he had come to enjoy so much. They had returned from the downstairs bar and dining room where they simply sat and listened to the considerably less than proficient local band for a while; then returned to their room about 9:00 p.m.
This time when she gently took his private parts in her hands she said.
"I hope you don't have any diseases. I've never had sex without a condom before you came along the other night."
"Oh, thank God," replied T.A. "I was going to wear one, but somehow we just seemed to get carried away. After that it was too late anyway. I was worried about you being a prostitute with Aids and all that stuff."
No sooner had he said the word prostitute that he realised he had erred badly in his off-the-cuff statement.
She stood up and looked at him with a hurt expression on her face. "I haven't got Aids or anything else. You might just think I'm only a prostitute but.....," she got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and began rapidly drying herself.
T.A. quickly followed her and saw that she was sobbing as she was drying herself. It had only taken seconds for her to dress.
"Oh Marivic. I'm truly very, very sorry. What I meant to say didn't come out the way I meant it to."
She just looked at him, the hurt still showing in her reddening eyes. He pulled her into him to try and give something back. He really knew he could never reverse the 'faux pas' he had made. While knowing what he said was true he wished he had never said it. His words had sprung out only as a relieved reaction to what she had said.
"Anyway," she said, "I have to go now and get back to work at the girlie bar." She had said that with more than a little vindictiveness in her voice. "And you haven't paid me yet."
T.A. felt totally deflated.
"I don't want you to go Marivic. I've only got two more nights in Manila, and I'd really love it if you could spend all that time with me."
She looked at T.A. and nodded her head in the negative as she quickly dressed.
"Maybe tonight you can go to another bar and find someone else who will be good for a couple more days. I thought you were different, but you're the same as all the others."
She packed her clothes purchases into her Robinson's replacement bag with amazing speed.
"Well, are you going to pay me?"
T.A. was torn. He wanted her to stay, but if she left now it might solve the later problems.
He pretended anger, grabbed his bum bag and under-shirt hideable wallet. Realising most of his money was in the hotel safety deposit boxes he pulled out all the cash he had. It was US$200.00, A$240.00 and about 2,000 Philippine Pesos.
Still pretending to be angry at her outburst, yet sorry their parting had come to this, he said, "I hope this is enough." He thrust the money at her and she pocketed it without even looking at how much it was.
The realisation of how he might really be feeling about her hit him.
She turned and walked out the door.
As he went to the door and stepped out to follow her, he realised he was still in the nude from the shower. He was thankful he turned back quickly; the spring loaded auto-locking door had almost closed behind him.
He sat on the bed and thought about whether or not he would hear her knocking on the door in a few minutes. She had forgotten the gift for her Mother that he had already packed in his backpack. So she had a genuine excuse to return.
By 2:00 A.M. he was still sitting, waiting. His mind had tested dozens of scenarios as to what he wanted. None fitted comfortably enough to be thought too far through. He switched off the light and tried to sleep. Dammit, he was missing that snug fitting little body next to his. He needed to feel her body next to him to help him sleep.
Any sound he heard outside his door made him immediately alert to listen for the faintest tap on the door.
By the time the kitchen had begun serving breakfast at 6:30 a.m. downstairs he still had not had managed any restful sleep. His body felt exhausted. He was wondering how he would manage to get to the departing flight to Cagayan at 6:30 A.M. the next morning. It was not the departure time that was so bad; he had to leave the hotel at about 5:00 A.M. to get to the airport.
Oh well, he thought, he would visit the bar tomorrow afternoon and collect her if she did not come back before then.
The everyday street noises outside had begun to steadily grow louder as the minutes into the new day passed. Sleep suddenly hit him immediately after he had silently cursed the sound of the ringing bell of a street food pedlar.
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