17 - first things first

Time and time again, the people of Mindanao had been put to the test and always managed to come through it with flying colors. It didn’t matter whether the problem arose from without or from within, the solution was sure to come in form of some tiny miracle.

By the time September rolled around, spirits had found a way to be lifted once again. The battle for Isabela City had been placed on indefinite hold and the carnage had been cleared from much of Mindanao’s city streets. It was rain that saved the day. It dampened the anger and brought a certain solace to the southern archipelago.

With Aaron’s arrest, the Yellow Mosque assassination had been solved in the eyes of the general public. The air was cleared and tensions were eased as everyone mourned for the lives lost. Even the resolute anger of minority groups like the Moro National Liberation Front and the Abu Sayyaf had generally been put to rest, even though there was lingering concern over the uncertain future of Catholic-Muslim relations in the south.

“Mat,” said Eiselle, “I’m going back to Gensan to see how ma is doing. Do you want to go with me?”

Mat shook his head.

“If you hang around here, you’ll just end up getting into more trouble.”

“At least let me say goodbye to my boys.”

  “Alright,” said Eiselle, “I’ll be outside.”

She went to her car and started the engine. She waited for a good fifteen minutes before checking the time on her watch. She waited another fifteen before turning off the engine and heading back inside.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Nah, I changed my mind.”

“Come on,” she said through gritted teeth. When Mat turned his attention away from her, Eiselle responded by stomping out to her car and speeding away.

“God dammit! He is one stupid mother pucker sometimes!” she spat, “he’s going to get himself killed. Just see If I care.”

When Eiselle arrived at her mother’s house without Mat, Mrs. Santiago gave her daughter the business.

“Where’s Mat?”

“He’s still back in Cotabato.”

“Go get him.”

“He doesn’t want to come.”

“I don’t care if he wants to come or not. You’re his older sister. It’s your duty to him.”

Eiselle heaved a long, loud, exasperated sigh.

“Just get him.”

Eiselle burned through two cigarettes on the return trip. She also burned through every curse word she could imagine. She hated how she was always the one to pick up after her irresponsible little brother.

“Come on, Mat!”

“No.”

“Yes, you’re coming home right now.”

Eiselle slapped the bottle of beer right out of Mat’s hands. When she grasped him by the wrist, her fingernails dug in deep. Still, Mat dragged along until she flung open the passenger’s side door and ordered him to sit down. By that time, he was quiet and compliant. Little did Eiselle know, but Mat couldn’t make up his mind. He knew he hadn’t had his head on straight ever since he and his friends participated in the first Yellow Mosque bombing. He felt like a puppet on a string, unable to control his destiny. He was glad his sister was there to push him along.

“I’m tired,” said Mat.

“Maybe you should take some rest when we get back to ma’s house.”

“Maybe so.”

Mat eased the seat back and closed his eyes. The slow, ambling ride through the city streets nearly lulled Mat to sleep. When they arrived in Gensan, Mat went directly to his bedroom, ignoring the calls of his mother completely. He tucked a pillow beneath his head and stared at a mouse scurrying along the rafters. The pitter-pat of raindrops eased Mat’s nerves. He figured the mouse was looking for refuge from the latest round of rainstorms. Somehow, that in itself, was reassuring. It just felt good to be home.

Even though the sky was slate gray and mud puddles dotted Academy Road, the mood was bright inside Our Lady Lupita as Rosalia Sasfy led the children in yet another science lesson.

“Alright, kiddoes, let’s talk about Mount Pinatubo. Can anyone tell me about the Ring of Fire?”

Dalisay and Juvie were the only ones to raise their hands.

“Anyone else?”

The remaining faces were all blank.

“Maybe you’re all too young to remember any volcanic eruptions. Okay, Miss Velasco, why don’t you tell me about the Ring of Fire?”

“It’s the area of land surrounding the Pacific Ocean, extending from the Americas around Asia to Australia. It’s called the Ring of Fire because of all the volcanoes.”

“How,” asked Rosie, “does that relate to the Philippines?”

“Isn’t the Philippines just a bunch of volcanoes?”

“Not quite,” said Rosie, “some of the islands are simply mountains where two tectonic plates have pushed together.”

“Then what are the volcanoes?”

“They’re just holes in the earth’s crust.”

The loud buzzing of a motorbike’s engine filled the classroom and grew as a cycle accelerated up Academy Road. The noise was so loud that all the children ran to the doorway to see who it was outside.

It was Brian Rudie.

He had been working all morning at the Serencio house, nailing floorboards into place in the back bedroom. As he worked, the hogs stomped about in the piggery, rooting in the mud and gobbling up the last ears of corn he’d thrown into the slop pile early that morning.

“Why’s everyone so quiet?” he called out to the pigs. They huddled together and muttered in a hushed tone.

Brian popped his head theough the window and peered outside.

“What the heck?”

Waves stretches from one side of the horizon to the other. They approached the beach in long white ribbons, rolling in slow and steady. The shoreline advanced towards the sea as each successive wave folded over itself. A strong riptide had formed along the beach as sandbars that were usually far into the surf showed their heads. The waves were acting strange this morning. Brian knew it in an instant.

“We’ve got a tidal wave!” he shouted.

Mrs. Serencio hobbled out towards the back bedroom.

“Brian! Go warn Mr. G. and the kids!”

Brian sprinted towards the dirt pad and took the first motorbike he could find. He pushed it into the roadway and gave it a quick kick start. The engine whirred to life and Brian almost tipped himself over as he opened up the throttle. The bike spun a bit as the front wheel popped into the air. Brian leaned forward and settled down the bike. Soon, he was bumping up Academy Road towards Our Lady Lupita. He didn’t dare to look back. His only thought was getting to the kids.

Back in the village, the hogs were the first to go. As each new wave broke on the beach, they proceeded up the coast. The walls of the piggery collapsed as the water-soaked sand gave way beneath the upright posts. The pigs squealed as some spilled out onto the beach and the rest were shoved against the walls of the Serencio house. Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Serencio faced the same sort of pinball action against the interior walls of their house. A wall of black, ashy water pinned Mr. Serencio against the front door. An old steel drum had rolled up against the outside as the wall collapsed forward. Quickly, Mr. Serencio found himself being crushed between wet layers of cane and the old steel drum. He’d have to do something fast before he lost his breath..

“Good evening, Mindanao. This is Jeanie Abordo with an Emergency Weather Alert from the MindaNews Weather Desk in Davao. A sub-oceanic earthquake has created a tidal wave of unknown proportions headed for the western coast of Mindanao as well as all outlying areas. Government officials have advised that anyone living in or near the Celebes Sea should head for higher ground immediately. To repeat, all people living in Mindanao should be on alert for a massive tidal surge to approach the coast within the hour and last for several days…”

 Mr. Serencio wedged his hands between his ribs and the steel drum and pushed forward with all his might. His hips flexed backward just slightly as he felt a second set of hands come about his waist. Mrs. Serencio had pushed against the current, swimming from one end of the house to the other as the walls collapsed around her.

“Artor! Hold on!”

The growing weight of wet thatch pinched them into place against the oil drum. Each successive wave ate away the sand and the two found themselves waist-deep in sand and sediment.

“I can’t, Elsie! Just go and save yourself!”

“I’m not going anywhere, dear old husband!”

Wave upon wave rolled into Sarangani Bay, each one a little greater than the last. Concrete crumbled and buildings collapsed as water ate away their foundations. The head of the wave surge wandered through corridors and spilled into parking lots, consuming everything it ran across. Automobiles floated at the whim of the great wave. They drifted aimlessly through widening waterways and crashed into each other as the current shoved them along.

The only constant was the palm trees. They poked their heads out of the surf like children in a giant wave pool. They bobbed rhythmically with the undulating surf. Slowly but surely, the water gobbled up every bit of available real estate.

At the far end of Academy Road, Our Lady Lupita waited in vain as Brian threw his motorbike on the ground near the minivan.

“Quick!” he shouted, “Everyone come here. We’ve got to get up on the roof!”

Rosie stood in the doorway, a little stunned at Brian’s demands. Just then, Mr. G. cut through the group of children and stepped out onto the playground. He held his hands aloft, palms up, seemingly balancing himself. He then placed a hand on both sides of his head and gently pulled each ear forward. He glanced about at the children surrounding him. It was a silent command, asking everyone to quietly listen to the sounds around them.

“I hear it,” he said with a nod, “everyone do what Brian says. There’s a wave coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” said Joy.

“Just trust me,” said Mr. G.

Brian leapt onto the roof of the minivan and braced himself as the children filed out into the courtyard. One by one, Brian pulled the children onto the roof of the minivan and then up onto the roof of the school.

Water swelled at the low end of the road, swallowing everything in its way. It was still too far away for anyone to see, but everyone could hear the unmistakable sound of rushing water. A flotilla of bamboo poles and personal rubbish rode along the surface of the oncoming wave. It was a floating pile of trash, marking its progress through Baluntay and its neighboring barrios. Barbie dolls and t-shirts and child-sized shoes and wooden dressers and plastic crates and old futon mattresses moved effortlessly uphill, riding the slow, constant water-swell as it pushed towards the Academy. Meanwhile, the group of students had successfully migrated from one level to the other, gathering themselves at the highest corner of the roof. The thin layer of gravel scattered atop the tarpaper was slippery under foot. Some children had removed their flip-flops and simply stood barefoot.

“Do you think it will get us?” asked Joy.

“I don’t think so,” said Brian reassuringly.   

The menacing sea lurched ever closer to Our Lady Lupita, spreading out across the valley. Whole buildings had been pushed off their moorings and were now ramming into each other with brute force. The sound of metal crunching together in the distance put visions in everybody’s heads. Joy clamped her hands over her ears.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” she shouted. Dalisay bent over and threw her arms around Joy’s shoulders. She wrapped the large orange and yellow rain jacket around the both of them and buried her head beneath the folds of nylon. Joy’s teeth chattered as her wet little body shivered uncontrollably. It may have been the unusually cold weather, but more than likely, it was the fear of who or what might be floating in the muck.

“Dal?” whispered Joy.

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you think they’re alright?”

“Who?”

“My mommy and daddy…do you think they’re alright?”

“Yeah, doodlebug, I bet they’re just fine.”

“I don’t think so. I can’t see anything but water in the distance. I think my home is gone.”

“Keep your chin up and keep thinking only positive thoughts.”

With each successive wave, water seeped into buildings and slowly ate anything in its way. It was the same old story, but neither Joy nor any of the other students had witnessed it before.

Throughout time, anyone living in the Pacific had an uneasy coexistence with water. Floods had not only plagued the Filipinos and other Islanders, but also those living all along the Ring of Fire. Throughout time, great waves had erased the history of entire regions – often in one fell swoop.

The word ‘tsunami’ (literally, a ‘harbor wave’) only existed in the Japanese language for 100 years or so, but great waves had plagued mankind world wide for all of recorded history.

The infamous “Great Wave of Kanagawa” painting by Kataushika Hokusai has been ingrained in the worldwide vernacular, although it wasn’t painted until 1830.  In the foreground, the menacing wave loomed, dwarfing Mount Fuji, which sat in the background. Tens of tiny fingers spread out from the monstrous arms of the great blue wave, searching for a coast that was just out of view. Meanwhile, a pair of boats waited to capsize in the wave’s gigantic maw. The image had haunted Japanese villagers for ages, just like the terror of rogue waves that inspired it.

The Greeks and Italians suffered through seismic waves in ancient times and the Japanese had record of floods as early as the 10^th Century. Filipino legends told of ancient tsunamis that battered most of its 7,000 islands. Present day buildings still showed watermarks that reached several stories high.

“Rosie!” shouted Mr. G., “Get the weather radio!”

Rosie hopped off the roof of the minivan and tumbled to the ground. She jumped to her feet and ran to her desk. She snatched the radio, but as an afterthought, she ran to the art closet and grabbed a plastic washtub. She threw open the refrigerator door and shoveled everything into the washtub with one swoop. She tossed the radio on top of everything and hurried outside. She quickly handed the washtub to Brian who passed it along to Mr. G. on the roof. Then, he turned and grabbed her by both arms and tugged backwards.

“Ouch!” groaned Rosie. It was an awkward way to get on top of the minivan, but it worked. Rosie hopped onto the roof and Brian followed.

“That’s everyone!” announced Brian as he and Rosie joined the rest of the group. They’d congregated in the high corner, shepherded into place by Mr. G. They made personal space as time passed and spread out across one half of the rooftop. Clusters of two, three, and four children gathered – the usual groups came together. Even Jose and a few of the other boys rolled a plastic ball back and forth across the rooftop to pass the time.

As they waited restlessly, the swelling water stalked through the thick forest of banana trees that lined Academy Road. The children watched silently as the water level proceeded towards them. Children murmured in hushed tones and tried not to think too much about the approaching water. Mr. G. put two fingers into his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. Everyone fell silent.

“I want all of you to gather together into this corner of the roof. This should be where it’s safest.”

“Rosie, why don’t you turn on the radio?” suggested Mr. G.

Rosie cranked the handle and flipped the power button. The radio instantly came to life.

“Hey-lo Mindanao! It’s Jeanie Abordo with your hourly weather update from the MindaNews Weather Center here in Davao. It looks like we’ll be facing more rain throughout the afternoon as another low-pressure system moves over the islands. We expect rain through most of the week, but things should be clearing up by next weekend…”

“What is she talking about?” said Juvie, “why isn’t she talking about the tsunami?”

“She probably doesn’t know…”

“How on earth is that possible?”

“It’s probably just as much of a surprise to her as it is to us.”

“I don’t know,” said Juvie, “that seems wrong.”

“These things can happen. Just stay close and hold on tight.”

A dog barked in the distance. It yapped tentatively at first, leery of the water. As the sound of a low rumbling rose in the distance, the dog let out a long, slow wail. It echoed eerily through the valley.

Beyond the crying dog, nothing else could be heard. The swelling water brought piles of things towards the Academy.

“What is all that?” asked Herve as he pointed towards the water’s edge.

“It’s personal things from the village!”

Now, they could see the dog scurrying up the hill. His barking was straining from excitement. The waves were not muddy as usual, but the deepest, darkest color of blue-black. This was not shore water. This had come from the deepest parts of Celebes Sea.

“Somebody’s got to help him!” shouted Jose.

He ran towards across the roof, fell to his belly, and peered over the ledge.

“Jose!” shouted Brian, “Get back here!”

The dog yapped hysterically and Jose shouted incoherently. He held both arms outstretched.

“Come on boy, Come on!”

The dog was barely a half-meter tall. The ledge was as high as two men standing head-to-toe. Not even Brian’s lanky arms would’ve been able to rescue the dog.

“Come on,” said Brian.

“Someone’s got to save him!”

“We can’t.”

Waves now began to crash into a few of the surrounding buildings. The children watched in horror as a roof dislodged and floated towards the Academy. Children shuddered and cried. There were shrieks loud enough to wake the dead. Children clasped onto Brian, Rosie and Mr. G. as everyone clumped together in the corner.

The little dog had been swept into the leading edge of the wave and was now doggie paddling with all his might. He incessant yapping started to sound coarse and raspy. He wheezed with each exhausted breath. Finally, the yapping stopped.

“No!” shouted Jose. He ran to the ledge again. This time, Dalisay jumped up and sprinted after him.

“Come back here, Jose!”

A sudden push of waves breached the edge of the roof. With one sudden gush, Jose disappeared over the edge. A second wave came up and withdrew. With the outgoing surge, a thin current of water knocked Dalisay off her feet. She tumbled for a moment and quickly disappeared from view.

“No! No! No!” shouted Joy. Now, her shriek wasn’t unlike the dog’s. One-by-one, children darted towards the ledge. One-by-one, new waves came and plucked them off the roof. The three adults did everything they could to bring the children to safety. What had once been a group of twenty was now reduced to eight. Joy was still there. So were Maria Serencio and her brother Herve. So, too, were all three adults and Juvie Velasco. Everyone else was gone.

“Oh, gawd!” bawled Joy. Her body shook violently as she pressed her face into Rosie’s hip. Rosie just stood there, motionless.

“It wasn’t real,” she thought, “It couldn’t be real.”

Herve tucked himself against his older sister. Meanwhile, Juvie just wrapped herself in her arms and stared into the distance. They had seemingly lasted a long, long time, but the last two minutes were absolutely mind numbing. Juvie inhaled deeply and let the breath out hotly through her nostrils. Her body shuddered in the cold air as goose pimples rose across both arms.

“Come here, Juvie,” said Mr. G. as he held out both arms. Juvie ignored him, though. She was focused on the waves in the distance. There were plenty more to come. She wondered how long the building would last. She wondered when it was her turn to go.

While waves continued to batter the coast, earthquakes rocked the mainland. However, it was the unexpected shock to the people of Gensan. Social media had flared up as people posted videos and status updates as soon as the first wave crashed on the shore.

The rash of status updates had caused her phone to vibrate across the kitchen table, nearly falling off the edge.

“What the heck is going on with my pone?”

She flicked through the updates, only to see the long list of bad news coming from all her friends who lived near the shore.

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Santiago.

“A really big tidal wave hit Sarangani.”

“Bring me the radio.”

Eiselle unplugged the radio from the ceiling outlet in the living room and moved it to the bedside table in her mother’s room. She flipped the switch, only to be greeted by Jeanie Abordo’s voice. It wasn’t as upbeat and chipper as usual. In fact, it was noticeably sad.

“To all our friends in and around Sarangani Bay, our thoughts go out to you as we get more reports of the tsunami which has devastated the coast. We are sending a team to survey the damage, but in the meantime, we are looking for answers as to where the epicenter of the wave occurred and the possibility of aftershocks. The damage is already estimated to be in the hundreds of millions, if not billions, of pesos and the numbers of lives lost are undeterminable at this time…”

“Turn it off…”

“But ma, what if it’s coming here?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes.”

“No, Let’s wake Mat and head up into the mountains.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Well, I’m not giving you a choice.”

After Eiselle got her mother ready, she roused Mat from sleep. Now, it was time to drag both her mother and brother out of harm’s way. They packed everything they could fit into the small trunk of her little red sports car. They headed north to the summer home in Cotabato. It was far enough inland to keep everyone safe. On their way, though, the ground shook beneath them. While nobody felt a thing in the comfort of the BMW, people ran into the street.

“Earthquake!” shouted a man on a bike. Eiselle had to make a hard turn just to swerve out of his way. She stopped the car as everyone ran out of their houses and into the middle of the street.

“Aw, come on!” she shouted.

Car alarms whined and the Emergency Alert Signal blurted its horn. The chaos did nothing but clog the road with a frantic stir of people.

Eiselle got behind the wheel and putlled the car back into the roadway.

“It’s impassable!” said Mat.

“I’ll get us there, I promise you that.”

“You’re going to hit someone.”

“They need to get out of the street.”

Eiselle idled up the street, pushing everyone out of her way like a mad bull at the end of the day in Pamplona, looking for someone to hit. Still, Eiselle managed to carve a path through the middle of the street, slowly making her way through the heart of the city and back to the outskirts again, where most of Mat’s friends were still gathered.

“Get out!” said Eiselle, “I want you all out of my house!”

“It’s not your house,” said Mat.

“Well,” said Mrs. Santiago, “I want everyone out, too, and this *is* my house.”

With that taken care of, Mrs. Santiago plopped herself on her living room recliner and popped the foot rest into place. She pushed back into her chair until it was fully reclined. Suddenly, she felt completely at ease. Mat, however, was completely agitated.

“We have this big, sprawling house with room enough for ten people and you kick everyone out?”

“I was doing you a favor. You shouldn’t be hanging around with those trouble makers.”

“Those are my childhood friends.”

“You need to put first things first. Find new friends. Fix your life.””

Mat was so mad at both his mother and sister he could hardly see straight. He plopped down on the couch next to Eiselle. She patted him on the knee and rose to her feet.

“I’m making some tea. Who wants tea?”

Both Mat and mother folded their arms indignantly. Undaunted, Eiselle marched to the kitchen and filled a kettle with water. With the flick of her wrist, the electric starter on the gas oven clicked to life. She stood next to it and literally waited for a watched pot to boil. She figured it was better than the alternative her family offered.

“Hallo?” called a voice from the front porch. It was James, Eiselle’s oldest brother.

“Hey-lo, Jay!” Eiselle scurried across the floor towards him with arms open wide. Her heels chattered against the wood floor and as Eiselle embraced her older brother, she leaned forward, barely touching her shoulders to his.

“Hey, E, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out planning some extravaganza or cotillion or a debut or something?”

“Nah, I’m here watching over ma. You know what she always say, “first things first.”

“Yeah, but that’s unlike you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just here for my mother.”

“Okay. What about you, Mateo? You here to care for ma, too?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.”

As if the tea kettle were waiting for the right time to break things up, water came to a boil and steam whistled through its spout. As Eiselle came to its rescue, Tony leaned over the recliner and gave his mother a great big hug. She barely responded at all. Tony looked her up and down before sitting on the sofa next to Mat. Eiselle poured four cups of tea and arranged them on a serving tray with a collection of pastries she found in the fridge. She carried the serving tray to the coffee table and sat it down. Eiselle served her mother while the boys served themselves. Then, everyone sat for a while enjoying their tea. It was a chance for everyone to gather his or her thoughts.

Teatime was, after all, that one rare moment when the Santiago family was too preoccupied to speak, let alone argue. Of course, each of them were more than glad for that tiny blessing.

More than likely, though, that little bit of peace would not last for long.

.