12 - what was once old

Even after the last of the yarn had been used to create a couple dozen God’s Eyes, the day was still far from over. While Mr. Rana delighted in the new furniture store decorations, Mrs. Rana’s feelings were lukewarm at best.
“There are so many of these things on the wall. Maybe you should let the children take some of them home.”
“Nonsense! These God’s Eyes are gifts from the children. I do wish there were enough to cover all four walls of my store.”
“Dear husband, you already have more than enough.”
“Just look at all of these glorious things.”
“You should save space for business things.”
“Each of these God’s eyes reminds me of all these children.”
Mrs. Rana gave her husband a dismissive wave as she returned to her chair in the center of the room. Meanwhile, Rosie and Brian were busy themselves as they dug through storage bins.
“Do you think we should teach another lesson?” asked Brian.
“I think the kids have had enough learning for one day. Anyway, I’ve had enough, too. It’s the weekend. Let’s treat it that way.”
Mr. Rana noticed Brian and Rosie sorting through the storage bins and approached.
“Do you need any help?” he asked.
“Nah,” said Rosie, “just looking for something to entertain the children for the rest of the afternoon. I thought we had colored chalk here somewhere….”
“If you’d like, I could make an errand run.”
Rosie shook her head, “We’ll be alright.”
“It’s no problem. I could get some yarn for more God’s Eyes, too.”
“Alright,” chuckled Rosie, “if you’d like, you could pick up some yarn for us. Anything would help.”
Mr. Rana went out and put the side rails on the flat bed truck and invited his three children along. Soon, the back of the truck filled with children, much to Mrs. Rana’s chagrin.
“Do you think it’s safe to haul the children around like common animals?”
Mr. Rana gave a tug on the side rails, “Our daughters ride in the back all the time. Besides, this truck is plenty safe. We’re only going a short distance down the road.”
It was indeed a short journey to Jardin Sarangani. However, the store was closed and shuttered. A black metal gate was drawn across the entrance and locked.
“I guess we’ll just have to head into the Highlands.”
The truck rumbled down the highway and up the winding mountain road, where traffic was fast and erratic. Mr. Rana drove with great patience, though. He was careful not to harm a single child.
Just a hop, skip, and a jump away, Ms. Eiselle Lee stood outside the Lee Estate. The tall, black, wrought iron gate stood guard out front, blocking Ms. Eiselle’s entrance into her own home.
“Mother pucker!” she shouted at the speaker outside the gate, “Let me in!”
She had tabbed in the password a handful of times and it hadn’t worked once.
“1205! 1205! 1205, Damn it!”
December 5th, her birthday, had been the inspiration for the main gate password soon after Arvind put a diamond ring on Eiselle’s finger. Now, that simple four-digit number would not open the gates.
Two nights earlier, Eiselle had set things into motion when she snagged Arvind’s laptop off the desk and took it to her friend’s house in Gensan. Shortly after Eiselle left, Arvind arrived.
“Hello?”
The hollow echo of Arvind’s voice within his own house and without a reply was nothing unusual at the Lee Estate. Arvind’s keys clicked as he placed them on the entryway table. The sound echoed in the chamber. So, too, did the sound of Arvind’s heels when he strode to the study. He stopped just in front of his desk, where he immediately noticed the missing laptop, but not just because of its absence. Arvind needed to check his business calendar.
He immediately called Eiselle’s phone.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
“Where am I? I’m in my study. Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know,” he said, “Where’s my laptop?”
“It’s in South Cotabato with me.”
“What are you doing in Cotabato?”
“Cotabato? I meant Gensan. I’m in Gensan with Lorna.”
Arvind exhaled hotly, “Eiselle…what are you doing in Gensan with my laptop?”
“I’m checking some files.”
“What files?”
“Your calendar. You locked it.”
“I know I locked it. That’s my personal business calendar.”
“How am I supposed to find you?”
“You don’t need to see my business calendar. Call my assistant Jaki if you need me.”
“But what’s yours is mine.’
“Jaki…I mean Eiselle…it’s not…”
“But Arvind,” Eiselle said pointedly, “Everything that’s yours should be mine, too.”
“Not all my things are always yours, Eiselle, especially when it comes to the engineering firm. When are you coming back to the house?’
“I already told you, I’m out here in Cotabato.”
“I thought you said Gensan. Are you in Gensan or Cotabato?”
“I’m at Lorna’s house.”
“Doesn’t she live in Gensan?”
“I meant…yes, she lives in Gensan.”
Arvind paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. The pregnant pause got at Eiselle.
“Okay, I’m not with Lorna. I’m at a friend’s house in Cotabato. He’s helping me log into the business calendar.”
“Why are you trying to hack into my business calendar? Why? Why do you need it?”
“I’m not hacking. You shouldn’t be keeping secrets from me.”
“Nothing about my business is a secret. Besides, there’s no reason for you to know my business schedule.”
“I’m your wife.’
“I know you’re my wife, Eiselle, but you’re not my business partner. If you need to get in touch with me, you can always call. If that doesn’t work, just call Jaki. She can always find me.”
“Jaki, Jaki, Jaki. Why can’t you just tell me?”
Arvind let out a heavy sigh.
“Well?”
“Eiselle, I don’t have to explain myself when it comes to the firm.”
“I think you do.”
Arvind remained silent.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“Eiselle, just bring the laptop back to me.”
“You’ll get it when I get the password.”
Arvind realized he’d reached a stalemate with his wife. Laptop or not, it wasn’t her place to ask. He’d grown tired of Eiselle’s antics. Instead, he’d copy the files from Jaki’s backup. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said to her. Then, he hung up.
“Arvind? Hello?”
“He’s got some nerve,” she said as she dialed his number. It rang four times and went to voicemail. She tried and tried again, but each time her calls went directly to voicemail.
“I’ll show him!” she spat, “Anthony, if you get into that personal calendar within the hour, I’ll pay you double.”
Anthony nodded as he monitored the decryption software. Sooner or later, it’d get through every barrier. It was just a matter of time.
Meanwhile, Arvind talked with his assistant Jackilyn.
“Hey, I need you to do me a favor. Eiselle snatched my laptop and she’s hacking into my business calendar.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Lee. I can log in remotely and remove the calendar if you’d like.”
“That’d be great.”
“Then I can create a new copy and send the file to your cell. You should be able to access your calendar on your phone in just a few moments.”
“That’s just fine, Jackilyn. What would I do without you?”
“I’m not sure, Mr. Lee. Just take good care of your cell phone so this doesn’t happen in the future.”
Arvind chuckled, “you got it, dear.”
While Jaki worked to move the calendar, Anthony worked to get at it. The software breezed through the billions of password combinations, routinely resetting the calendar’s security gates along the way.
“Got it!” he said.
Eiselle came to life as the calendar popped up on the screen.  She jumped up and down excitedly and planted a waxy red lip print on Anthony’s cheek.
“Tony, are you fantastic or what?”
Anthony just smiled as Eiselle leaned over him. A wisp of her perfume lingered in his nose as the rayon in her black and white Polka dot blouse rubbed against his shoulder. He exhaled nervously.
Eiselle paged back and forth through the calendar, delighting in every detailed entry.
“This is perfect!”
Then, the calendar page went blank. She stepped backwards.
“What’s that? Why is it blank?”
Anthony refreshed the calendar.
- - File not found - - -
“Is this file on a shared drive?” he asked.
Eiselle shrugged.
“Someone else must be working with this file.”
“That can’t be. Arvind doesn’t have another computer.”
“Yes it can. Take a look. You said somethjing about his personal secretary. Does she have remote access?”
“Damn it! I can’t believe her.”
Eiselle snatched the laptop and slammed it shut. Then, she strode towards the door.
“Eiselle, how are you going to pay?”
“Pay? For what?”
“You owe me three hours of labor.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I got your file. It’s not my fault someone else locked it.”
“I’m certainly not paying you for nothing.”
Eiselle slammed Anthony’s front door as she left. He listened to the sound of her little red sports car as it peeled away. He went back to his other work. No reason crying over spilt milk – or burning bridges.
Eiselle drove east along the coast, by-passing Gensan and the Lee Estate. She did not stop until she found a high-priced resort in Davao. She presented one of Arvind’s corporate credit cards as she checked-in.
“Give me a Jacuzzi suite,” she ordered the clerk, “I also want to order some room service. Get me something Italian.”
“All we have is Spaghetti alla Parmigiana.”
“Don’t you have anything else?”
“We have a Macaroni bake.”
“Alright then, just give me the spaghetti with eggplant. Cook it in olive oil, no butter. Make sure it’s al dente. I won’t eat soggy pasta.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When she got to her room, she pulled back the curtains to reveal the view out her window.
“I guess that’ll do.”
Then, she looked beneath the bed and behind the furniture. She drew a finger across the back ledge of the TV table. She huffed slightly as she looked at the thin line of dust on her finger.
She spent the rest of the night and the next full day at the resort, treating herself to the full spa treatment. That husband of hers would learn a lesson, she thought. Even the plush resort and the placid spa surroundings weren’t enough. Eiselle’s emotions continued to boil as the call history piled up. Unable to take any more, she finally switched off her cell phone and tucked it into her purse.
“Good riddance!”
Good riddance may have been a portent of things to come just as if she had decided to spit in the wind. Eiselle always created her own brand of luck and it was just as likely to be bad as good.
The first sign of trouble appeared when she treated herself to in-room dining. As she ate a breakfast of SPAM, eggs, and pineapple, a knock came upon her door. It was the front desk clerk.
“I’m sorry Ms. Lee, but your credit card has been declined by the bank.”
“What?”
“Declined, ma’am.”
“Try it again.”
“The bank is asking us to pick up the card.”
Soon after Mrs. Lee checked into her room, the bank had notified Mr. Lee of the outstanding charge. Eiselle had used the Architecture firm’s emergency card. Arvind hadn’t ever used it once. In fact, the only activity the card had ever seen was the annual fee.
“Do you have another form of payment?”
Eiselle flipped through her billfold. All the cards belonged to Arvind Construction. They’d be useless, too.
“How much do I owe?”
“800 pesos.”
Eiselle counted through the notes stuffed into her purse.
“I only have 700.”
“We’ll take care of it, ma’am.”
Eiselle stood in the empty hallway as the front desk clerk strode away. She sifted through her purse.
“What else could go wrong?”
That answer came as soon as she arrived at the gate outside her own house. She felt like she’d been blindsided. However, that was just another day in the life of Eiselle Santiago.
“Mother pucker!” she screamed. Not once; not twice; not even a half-dozen times. She stood in front of the tall, black, wrought iron gate and screamed until Arvind peeked through the curtains. He simply shook his head and let the curtain fall back into place. Ms. Eiselle continued to scream until a car from the Highlands Police force approached.
“Ma’am?” said the officer, “Are you okay?”
A single crooked and manicured finger pointed towards her bedroom.
“No, I’m not okay! That’s my house!”
“I know, Ms. Eiselle. Mr. Arvind was the one who called.”
“Can’t you let me in?”
The officer holstered his thumbs in the ridge of his utility belt as he stood next to Eiselle.
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s my house.”
“Let me make a call.”
He went to the patrol car only to return with a grim look upon his face.
“I just talked to the chief of police and he said if you don’t leave, I will have to escort you to the city limits or take you to jail.”
“He said what?”
“Mr. Arvind doesn’t want you anywhere near his property.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Give it some time. That’s probably the best.”
“Everything I own is inside that house.”
“I can’t ma’am. I just can’t.”
Eiselle glared at the bedroom window where Arvind stood as she got into her BMW and slammed the door. The officer glanced towards the bedroom window and shrugged. Arvind took one full step backwards as the little red BMW peeled out in the gravel in front of the entrance.
“I cannot believe this is happening to me!” said Eiselle as she pounded on the steering wheel, “What am I gonna do?”
The answer was obvious. She would return to Gensan. She dialed Lorna’s number, but there was no answer.
“Damn it, Lorna. Where are you?”
She thought for a moment. Then, she made a call to her brother.
“Hallo? Eiselle?”
“Yeah, Mat, it’s me. Where are you?”
“I’m at the house. Where else would I be?”
“I’m coming over.”
She flipped on the radio and tuned it to a field report from MindaNews.
“This is Mya Flores reporting from Isabela City. Ground forces from the Philippine Army have been fighting for nearly a week and are heavily entrenched in the area. While the fighting on Basilan Island is relatively confined, the recent rioting on the mainland has extended beyond South Cotabato into other parts of the Mindanao archipelago, accented by another Mosque bombing, this time in the downtown area of General Santos City. Police are still without leads…”
Eiselle arrived at her childhood home in Gensan moments after hearing the broadcast. She squeezed her car between a collection of Jeepneys owned and maintained by her three younger brothers. While Eiselle’s two eldest brothers were out running routes, Mateo was inside watching television with his friends.
“Mat, where’s our mother?”
“She’s in the back.”
Eiselle skirted around the cats that drifted from room-to-room in the house. Some belonged to the Santiago family, but most were street urchins that Mrs. Santiago had fed and nurtured. In return, they gobbled up any mice lingering in the woodwork.
“Ma?”
“Eiselle? Is that you?”
Mrs. Santiago was still in bed even although it was now well past noon. Her room was hot and stale. Eiselle turned on the small circular fan at the foot of her mother’s bed and pulled back the curtains on the window. Then, sat next to her mother.
“The sunlight,” groaned Mrs. Santiago, “please close the curtains.”
“Ma, it’s so hot in here. I’ve got the window open to cool things off. Why are you still in bed?”
“I’m just a little tired, dear.”
“Let me get you a washcloth.”
Eiselle went to the comfort room, drenched a washcloth with cold water, and folded it into a compress as she returned to her mother’s side. She lifted her mother’s neck with one hand and placed the compress on the pillow.
“Is that better?”
Mrs. Serencio nodded.
“Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”
“Oh, Eiselle, it’s nothing to worry about. I’m just an old woman and it’s the middle of August.”
“You’re burning up and I worry about you in this heat. Maybe I should buy you a house in the Highlands with aircon and hot running water.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life without aircon or hot water. Why on earth would I need it now?”
“You deserve a better home.”
“I’m fine just where I am.”
Even with the sea change in works programs during the Marcos regime, the infrastructure of Mindanao had always lacked suitable electric or plumbing, even in the older, more-established barrios. Multi-billion peso projects meant to create a solid power grid were often dismantled within the year. It wasn’t due to political corruption, but the eternal battle between man and nature. What men created with their own two hands, God put asunder with rains and storms and over-zealous vegetation and ever-shifting tectonic plates. For all intents and purposes, the issue of improving the power grid had still been a non-issue. This was an age-old battle and, as usual, God always came out on top.
“Eiselle, can you make me a glass of lemonade?”
Eiselle nodded.
“With lots of ice.”
“I know, ma.”
Eiselle circled around to the kitchen. Mat and his friends sat in the living room, watching the video replay of an old college basketball game.
“Hey, Eiselle,” said Mat, “get us a couple of beers out of the fridge.”
Eiselle obliged, bringing a full six-pack out to the living room and placing it on the coffee table next to the sofa.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I just decided to drop by and visit mom.”
“You never just decide to do anything. There must be some reason Ms. Eiselle is taking time to honor the rest of us with her presence.”
Eiselle dispatched her brother with the flick of her nails before tending to the pitcher of lemonade in the kitchen.
Her alter ego had been intact long before she left the homestead in Gensan or the summer place in South Cotabato. Eiselle managed to leave a lasting impression on anyone who crossed her path. All of this before she found her way to the heart of Sarangani.
In all honesty, though, she loved being home. It wasn’t for the God forsaken street dogs or the house rats. It certainly wasn’t for the smell of kerosene brush fires in the rice paddies or the vehicles buzzing through the barrios at all hours of the night. She hated all of those things with a passion. It was, of course, for family.
Eiselle ignored Mat and his friends as she cut through the living room on her way to the back of the house. She returned to her mother and carefully placed the lemonade on the side table.
“Thank you, Eiselle. Could you be a dear and turn on the radio?”
“Yes, ma.”
The radio was tuned to the station that played traditional Filipino folk songs. Eiselle sat with her mother and listened, occasionally replacing the washcloth and refilling the glass with fresh iced lemonade. Eiselle also took the time to fish ice cubes from the glass and feed them to her mother.
The music paused at the top of the hour for MindaNews. It was more of the same: reports from Isabela City and the rioting in the streets of South Cotabato. Also, there were updates on the cathedral bombing in the heart of General Santos City.
“I wonder if the boys are alright.”
“I’m sure they are, ma. Most of it is happening in South Cotabato anyway.”
“That’s where the boys go whenever they’re not working. They usually spend their nights at the summer house.”
“They’re here in Gensan now.”
“But the fire bombing…”
“Don’t worry, ma. It’ll be fine.”
Eiselle plucked at her rayon blouse as she reclined against the headboard next to her mother. The ambient heat off two warm bodies had made it even more unbearable in the bedroom.
“I really need to get you an aircon.”
“Maybe you and that rich husband of yours can buy one for my birthday.”
“Ma, your birthday isn’t until Christmastime.”
“It would be a good birthday gift.”
“We’ll see.”
Eiselle glanced at her cell phone. Still, there was no response from Arvind. Eiselle decided it was time to shoot a text to Lorna.
-      I ND 2 BORW SUM $
-      HOW MUCH?
-      5000.
-      5000?!??
Before Eiselle could reply, her phone rang.
“Hey,” said Lorna, “why do you need money? Did Arvind do something to you?”
“Yeap, but hold on one second.”
Eiselle got up from her mother’s side and went into the kitchen.
“Yeap,” she said, “Arvind locked me out.”
“He locked you out of the Estate?”
Although Lorna was shocked, it was only because she was surprised he hadn’t kicked Eiselle out sooner. Still, Eiselle was a friend in a time of need, and that was good enough for Lorna.
“Yes, and I don’t know what to do. I’m at my mom’s house now, but there’s no way I I can tell her what happened.”
“If you need a place, you can always stay here.”
“I can’t stay at your house. I’m accustomed to the lush life.”
“You can always sleep in your car.”
Lorna had no problem with Eiselle’s snobby behavior. Lorna had known Eiselle for half of her life. This was old news.
“Alright,” said Eiselle, “I’ll be over in a little bit.”
Eiselle returned to her mother’s side, but only to say her goodbyes.
Ma, I’m going to head over to Lorna’s house. Do you have any of my old clothes?”
“They’re in Mat’s room.”
A stack of large plastic containers lined the wall in Mat’s bedroom. She sorted through them and found a handful of old outfits. They smelled like must and mold. She filled her backpack and then filled a clutch of plastic grocery bags. As she cut through the living room, Mat stopped her.
“What are you doing with all that old stuff?”
“I’m just looking for something different for my wardrobe.”
Mat scoffed as Eiselle went to her car. She loaded the trunk and returned inside. As she emerged from Mat’s bedroom with two more bags full of clothes, she overheard the boys talking.
“We all knew it was bound to happen,” said Mat.
“I don’t think they should be allowed to get away with it,” said Mat’s friend Aaron.
 “Get away with what?” asked Eiselle.
“The cathedral bombing; you know it’s the Muslims. They’re out of control in this country.”
“It’s terrible,, but quit worrying about it. Our Government has it under control.”
“The government isn’t going to do anything.”
Mat Santiago was dead wrong. The Filipino Government had dealt with religious tensions and political unrest throughout its brief history. In 2006, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo declared a National State of Emergency and instituted a curfew to crush a potential military coup.
In 1972, President Ferdinand Marcos dealt with the threat of Communism by issuing a proclamation to disband the Filipino Congress and declare Martial Law.
In 1944, under advisement by the Japanese government, President Jose Laurel declared Martial Law due to looming threats from both the United States and United Kingdom.
Even as far back as 1898, rebel leader Emilio Aguinaldo established a dictatorship during the Spanish-American War, ruling the republic by brute military force.
 As Eiselle made the short trip across town to Lorna’s house, the news crackled on her car radio.
“Due to continued violence throughout southern Mindanao, government officials have issued a curfew beginning at sundown. Residents are expected to stay inside their homes until daybreak. Anyone violating curfew could face criminal charges or imprisonment.”
“I knew the government had it all under control,” muttered Eiselle.
After Magellan met his death in 1521 at Mactan Island on the island of Cebu, the Spanish sent other explorers including Hernan Cortez, but to no avail. Finally, in 1543, Spanish explorers claimed the land for Spain and named it the Philippines in honor of Spain’s king Phillip. Although it was a claimed land, it was not colonized.
Spanish explorer Miguel de Legazpi was sent to win the country. On the voyage, he won battles in Guam, the Marianas and Marhsall Islands, Taiwan, and the Moluccas. Of the 7,000 islands, Legazpi chose a single small island to inhabit during his journey. Through the earlier exploits of Magellan and other explorers, he realized that diplomacy would be a better path.
As supplies ran out on his tiny island, he and his crew island hopped in search of food and raw materials. Instead of conquering these new islands, Legazpi negotiated with island chieftains, living peacefully among the islanders.
During the three hundred years leading up to the Spanish-American war, Spain had not only colonized the Philippines, but several regions such as Cuba, Mexico, and the southwestern United States.
In the two-generation lead-up to the Spanish-American War, Filipino poets, painters, and politicians formed the Propoganda Movement. Many influential Filipinos, including a revolutionary named Jose Rizal, were expelled from the Philippines due to their anti-colonial views. Rizal moved to Spain and implored officials to give greater assitance to the Philippine colony. With resistance coming from the Spanish, a secret society known as the Katipunan (Pilipino for ‘association’) was formed during the six-year lead-up to the Spanish-American War.
The Katipunan formed after continued attempts by separatists for a peaceful route towards Philippine Independence. The Katipunans took up arms and took to the streets, searching for liberty and freedom.
When rumors of the uprising reached authorities, the Spanish de facto government instilled its own Martial Law, imprisoning masses of suspected rebels. Additionally, Spain sent Navy vessels directly from Madrid to Manila.
Unfortunately, these ships were outdated, unarmored, and poorly equipped. In response, the Filipinos sought assistance from the Americans, who were also involved with the Spanish-American War in Cuba.
On May 1st, 1898, U.S.S. flagship Olympia led a flotilla of three cruisers and two gunboats into Manila Bay. At the inlet, they encountered a flotilla of eleven Spanish ships. The Battle of Manila Bay moved from port-to-port along the northwestern shore of the Luzon province. Twelve hours after the fighting began, the colors of the Spanish flag were struck. The battle itself took less than a day and foretold the fate of the war – the Americans would eventually emerge victorious - even though the fighting lasted for another three and a half months.
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