El Patrón motioned the guards out of the garage and stepped close to the paterfamilias. "Sunday's confession. Tell me what she said."
"Your daughter offered to pay me for the music machine if I would take a little bit each week. I said payments each week would be fine. Was that wrong? I had made the price very high. She won't be able to buy it, Patrón."
"Was that all? Did she confess to anything else?"
"Only the usual. Being a fallen woman. Asking me for forgiveness. Blaming you for forcing her to have sex. She did give me something though."
"What did she give you?"
"This little paper bag." El Pervertido reached very carefully into his left pants pocket and pulled it out. "I don't know what to do with it."
El Patron took the bag and felt its weight. Too light to carry a bomb. Besides, the driver would never have let the paterfamilias bring something dangerous to the compound. He rolled the top of the bag open and looked inside but the garage was too dark for him to see the contents. He walked outside into the bright light, looked inside, and poured the contents into his right hand. The centavo coins came out first. He threw them into the grass. The lighter paper money came next. Three one-peso notes. He threw those onto the grass too. The bag obviously held her prostitution money. She had earned enough in three days to buy a bowl of rice and two fried shrimps from a bicycle-powered food cart. She was whoring for lunch money.
"Take the money she gives you and keep track of it. Tell me each week what she has earned." Turning to Ramón, El Patrón ordered, "Get him out of here." Then he walked into the house and slammed the door.
Ramón waited while the paterfamilias knelt on the grass and retrieved Kashmira's money. Neither he nor any of the guards offered him a hand when he struggled to stand up. Every guard in El Patrón's employ knew that El Patrón had bribed the paterfamilias to reveal his daughter's confessional secrets. They didn't know about Paterfamilias' own dirty secrets, but that wouldn't have changed anything. They had moved their families out of that church long ago.
# # # # # # # #
Shortly after being returned to the cathedral, Paterfamilias entered his bedroom and gingerly lowered his trousers and his underwear. The van ride had been bumpy. He was concerned that something might have become dislodged. He looked down at the tip of what the white-haired doctor with the funny looking skin colour had inserted immediately below his belly button. The green light was still flashing.
The doctor had told him that the implanted device had two functions. It would record everything that Paterfamilias said and would transmit that recording to a certain Japanese woman. If she didn't like what she heard, the flashing green light would turn into a flashing red light. If so, Paterfamilias would have ten seconds to ask his God for forgiveness. The explosive would then rip open his body from his chest to his knees.
# # # # # # # #
By shift change, every guard knew that La Señorita was whoring for pesos so that she could buy a music machine. The guards who had heard her sing shared their opinions about her songs. Guard sentiment was solidly behind La Señorita. That Monday evening, when El Patrón bellowed his ultimatum through her bedroom door, they knew that he would punish her into submission again. They heard how she would have to kneel on the floor, kiss her father's ring, and promise obedience by 5 p.m. Tuesday afternoon. If she didn't, he'd throw her into the street with nothing more than the clothes on her back. The guards knew that no male citizen of Maasin City would ever go into the shadows of an alley with her no matter how beautiful she was, even if she had been disowned. They were too frightened of what El Patrón would do to them. She'd die a starving, broken street prostitute if she didn't promise to obey her father.
# # # # # # # #
At 5 a.m. Tuesday morning, Kashmira opened the door to her bedroom and walked, head up, down the hallway to the front door. She was pulling two suitcases full of clothes behind her. The guard at the door saw her coming and opened the door for her. He carried the two suitcases to the street for her so that there'd be no noise. He set them down on the rutted road, whispered "Vaya con dios,"[Go with God], and watched her disappear into the darkness. Kierra's daughter had defied her father one last time.
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Chapter 28
"That's the end of my operation now," Winnie reminded Mathias. They were meeting in Winnie's camp atop the cathedral. "Kashmira didn't run away from her father; her father kicked her out. That means that no innocent people were involved and her father has no reason to hurt them."
"Making her look like a prostitute was a good idea. As was using her paterfamilias to feed false information back to her father. Melissa admitted your idea was better because he wouldn't be able to see what was coming. It would be unexpected."
"That's what I do, Mathias. I look for unexpected solutions."
"Well this one certainly qualified. How did Kashmira handle the week?"
"Not well. She has lost her church and she can't confess. These are very important to her. I offered to bring another priest to her for confession but she turned me down."
"How would you find another priest?"
"I don't know. Find somebody in Manila who wouldn't know the family? But bringing him here and explaining what he had to do would be difficult. I was grasping at straws. I didn't have time to think it out."
"Why not?"
"Mathias, Kashmira was very upset. Losing her church like I said. People in Maasin believing that she's a prostitute. Some other things too."
"She never cared what anybody thought of her before."
"I know. But the boys that she tutored all had huge crushes on her. They thanked her profusely. She liked that. She liked tutoring them too. She's changing. She's not the same girl she was at the beginning of the operation."
"You peeked into her head?"
"No. I told you I wouldn't. Besides I can't peek into her head even if I wanted to, which I don't."
"Why can't you peek?"
"Her mind projects a huge, blinding light. Instant headache if I peek inside. I have to stay at her side and not be directly in front of her in case I even glance at her face."
"Reese saw a bright light where her white colours stuck together."
"I've never been with anybody whose head was impenetrable. Momaka can hide things from me by planting a peaceful thought in her head; but I can always peek in and see her crane if I want to. Kashmira is a white blinding light to me."
"Weird. So now she cares what people think about her?"
"What some people think about her for sure."
# # # # # # # #
"So you're going with Melissa's plan from here?"
"Yah. She says it will be a straightforward military operation. The Japanese crime family tries to move into the city. El Patrón's gang of goons fight back. We lure them into the jungle and disable them. Meanwhile, El Patrón hides in his vault. As he loses power in the city, the officials he owns become nervous. People start to come forward with secrets. We go into the vault, capture him, and turn him over to the authorities."
"How long will it take?"
"Probably a couple of weeks. Melissa wants the news of Kashmira to die down first. We'll keep her hidden. She'll continue to give El Pervertido some money so that her father doesn't become suspicious."
"And after that? What happens to Kashmira?"
"That's none of your business, Winnie."
"If you're planning to be involved with her after her father is captured... yes, that's none of my business. But if the family is going to abandon her to live on her own, then that is as much my business as anybody's."
"The family won't abandon her. Mom will help her learn how to survive on her own. She'll have income from her songs. Momaka will help her deal with what happened in the past. We have a plan."
"And you and her? How do you see that playing out? You and Kashmira will fly the jumbo planes around the world; the two of you will play tourist; at other times, she'll study bots
of courses that she hasn't learned yet; you'll have some university bots. You fly off into the sunset together?"
"You promised not to peek into my mind."
"I didn't have to peek into your mind to know what you were thinking, Mathias. It all sounds good, though. Provided that you don't mind being by yourself when you're flying off into the sunset."
# # # # # # # #
"I am not a hermit!"
"Yes, you are! You like being alone. You don't like being with other people. That's OK when it's only you being the hermit. But when you put Kashmira into that jumbo plane, and she spends all of her free time studying bots, all you're doing is moving her out of her father's prison into yours."
"I thought you weren't here match-make. You promised. You're always poking around into other people's lives. Stay out of mine!"
"I'm trying to. But you can't treat Kashmira like another hermit. Just because her father forced her to live like a hermit, that doesn't mean that's what she needs or wants. You've been thinking of yourself; not her."
"Busybodies don't have the right to tell other people how to live! I am thinking of her. I'll take care of her. I know what she needs."
"If you've been thinking of her, tell me what's going through her mind right now! She's upset. Why?"
"Like you said. The prostitution. The church."
"You wouldn't have known that if I hadn't told you. Besides, I didn't tell you what's really upsetting her. You know her so well. You tell me what's really upsetting her."
# # # # # # # #
"That's crazy. I do like her," Mathias confessed. "Why does she believe that I don't?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't let her talk with me about it because I had promised you that I wouldn't interfere. I can tell you that she is convinced that you don't like her."
...
"You know that Kashmira has very strong emotions, right Mathias?"
"Yeah. I've seen her become very angry. It takes her a long time to calm down."
"You know that her emotions swing hard other ways too, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"When she gets sad, she gets extremely sad. She obsesses on her sadness. She won't let it go. I told you that she used to cry in her bedroom when she was sad."
"Yeah."
"Those weren't gentle tears, Mathias."
...
"She's mad at me too, you know," Winnie admitted.
"That means that she's mad at me?"
"Yeah, Mathias. She's mad at you. Plus she's hurt. I know how I hurt her. I don't know how you hurt her. She's all alone and she is convinced that the two people that she had started to open up to don't like her. That sadness will become worse and worse. She'll be obsessing about this soon."
"But I do like her. I don't know why. I just do."
"Does she like you?"
"I believe so. She started an eyelash batting war with me."
"I do not want to know what that is. How would she know that you like her?"
"I'm protecting her."
"So did her father. She hates him. He hates her. What does that tell you about how she feels about being protected?"
# # # # # # # #
"Where have you stashed her?" Both Winnie and Mathias had calmed down. Winnie asked her question in an almost normal voice.
"For now, in the music room in the cathedral. El Pervertido won't tell on her."
"Did you stay with her after you picked her up this morning?"
"Yes. Afterwards I came up here to meet with you."
"Did you guys talk at all?"
"No. She said she was tired and wanted to sleep. She uses the love seat as a bed."
"Which way was she facing when you left? Towards you or away from you?"
"Away. Why?"
"Do you not realize that when a girl turns her back on you, she could be mad at you? How could you not know that?"
"I'm a hermit, remember?"
"Sorry. I forgot. You need to watch her body signals, Mathias."
...
"Did you comfort her after she had left her house? Like by hugging her? Holding her hand?"
"No. We don't hold hands yet. We did for a bit when we were in disguise, but it was dangerous, so I stopped it."
"Have you ever hugged her?"
"Once – after she learned about El Pervertido."
"Who started the hug?"
"She did."
"Short hug? Long hug?"
"Long."
"Who pulled away first?"
"I did."
"Why?"
"I was thinking about kissing her, but that wouldn't have been right. She was crying about what El Pervertido had done to her. I figured she wouldn't want to have anything to do with a man trying to kiss her when she was crying. I didn't want to take advantage of her."
# # # # # # # #
Winnie herself had never been hugged by a boy her age; she had never held hands; she certainly had never been kissed. But as the reader already knows, she had studied boy-girl relationships. She was an experienced matchmaker. Mathias was a hermit, but a gentlemanly hermit. It wasn't his fault that he knew next to nothing about girls his own age.
"That was considerate of you. Not wanting to take advantage of Kashmira. I'm sorry that I yelled at you."
Mathias nodded in agreement. "I yelled at you too."
"We both want what's best for Kashmira, right?"
"Right."
"We should have a truce. Let me help you."
"You'd be match-making again?"
"No. I don't want to bring the two of you together. But if you want it to happen, I'll help you." [Winnie hadn't changed her assessment of the improbability of Mathias and Kashmira being able to have a long relationship. But Mathias wanted it. Perhaps he could make it work.]
"OK. Truce. What do I do now?"
"Mathias, what would you be like if you had lived for 14 years and had never been praised for anything that you had done, if you had never been touched ever in a positive way. Not a hand on a shoulder in praise, not a hug of appreciation, not a kiss on a forehead from your mom or your dad. No physical contact whatsoever. What would you be like? What would you want more than anything else in the world?"
"Somebody who would show an interest in me? Somebody who would show me affection? Somebody who would touch me?"
"You better hope that she's still in the music room."
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Chapter 29
Mathias spent all of Wednesday with Kashmira. She couldn't sing in the music room out of concern that somebody might hear her. So they spent the time either talking in the music room or wandering around the city in their disguises. Kashmira had to come back to the church twice to rest. The second time she fell asleep on the love seat. This time she was facing Mathias when she drifted off.
It was now about 3:00 a.m. on Thursday August 22. Maasin City was in its usual darkness. Solar powered lights did not work in darkness, and nobody would be foolish enough to waste battery power to light streets that nobody would be using this late. The city was asleep except for two figures that were making their way slowly and carefully through a street leading to Maasin City's small port. Slowly, because Maasin City's streets were always full of obstacles. Carefully, because they didn't want to make a noise. From time to time, the taller figure flashed his pinky ring light to see what lay in front of them, and if necessary, to avoid clattering into it.
The shorter figure was almost certainly a girl. If a Maasin City insomniac had been up and around, the occasional flash of the pinky ring light would have revealed that she was wearing a skirt. The light wasn't bright enough to show anything about that skirt, like its multicoloured expensive fabric. However the pinky ring flash would have revealed that the two figures were making their way to the port fastened together: he had his right arm around her right shoulder; she had her left arm around his waist. They were tightly entwined. Surprisingly tight considering that the night was not cold.
&nb
sp; About that hypothetical interfering Maasin City insomniac... The male figure was confident that they would not encounter any such person. Nor would they encounter any of the city's numerous dogs because Maasin City's dog-god was guiding their footsteps down the streets where they would encounter no such threats. Well, perhaps their guide was not a god-dog. But if it wasn't a god-dog providing that advice, it must have been some invisible creature flying overhead and whispering navigational instructions into the male's head.
As the couple approached the water, the air became misty. A fog bank. Something that ports around the world would be used to. This fog bank was a bit unusual in that it was very dense and very compact. Only the area around the long pier jutting out into Maasin City's small harbour was obscured. The couple had to slow down drastically once they entered the fog bank. Flashing a light in the middle of a fog bank would not have been a good idea. A glowing mist might have been easily seen by the harbour master who was theoretically awake and on guard during the night.
Like everywhere else in the Philippines, smuggling was widespread. Maasin City's Guardia tried to prevent such smuggling by requiring all small boats to be locked in place at the shorter of two piers at their port. A locked gate at the land-side entranceway to the pier provided further deterrence. The harbour master was supposed to be sitting in a chair outside his hut, guarding that gate. Tonight, no smuggling operations had been planned and the harbour master was dead to the world on his cot inside his hut. The couple must have been lucky that their evening stroll to the city's harbour came on one of the few nights when smugglers were home resting. Either that, or they had access to that month's schedule of smuggling operations that was kept on El Patrón's desk.
The shorter pier with the small boats was not the couple's destination. They moved quietly past that pier and moved towards the longer pier. This pier was not used very often now. Before The Troubles, it had served as the dock for the Maasin – Cebu ferry. Cebu was one of the largest cities in the Philippines and the six hour trip by ferry to Maasin was busy enough to support round trips daily. But that was before the troubles. Smugglers in small boats were the only ones making that trip to Cebu now. If a Maasin City insomniac had been strolling down that pier, and if it hadn't been for the fog bank obscuring his view, he might have seen a sailing ship docked to the pier this very morning.