HOW IS it now, would you allow your teenage son?”
The question of Serapio seemed to drown me. I cursed in silence. Dodo, our (Soledad and mine) eldest son who has newly graduated from high school, is the one he meant. He kept on enticing him to that way of fishing which I have long left. I learned my lesson.
But his question was just munched by the roaring of the waves that had broken on the rough rocks. The voice of the waves carried a reminder. My principle stood firm. The wind that was spewed from the ocean produced a whistling sound. In a moment I glanced at the Island of Tipaynon which is surrounded by the plain sea. It became dark. Perhaps not far from that island, in my silent guess, there was a whirlwind that was about to fall. It was gathered by the heavy and drab clouds that were held by the belly of the sky. The weather was bad.
Our hut was resting on the apex of this rocky cliff where Tipaynon is seen so clearly. At the yard, I continued with what I was doing even if Serapio, our neighbor who kept on inviting for an evil promise, was there. But I kept on protecting the future of Dodo. He couldn’t be left to this bestial man.
I really kept on doing my work. I had to finish darning the holes of the net. If I could have a good catch even once, I promised Dodo to enroll him in Manpower for a technical course. If he would succeed, he could be freed from this miserable condition, like this poor hut of ours which had so many braces, here and there, because the wind from the sea has kept on pushing it.
“Hey, you know, Bay Timoy,” Serapio continued to allure. He even tried to influence me. “There’s a great school of malangsi and tambantuloy Dodo could make big money. I will be dead if this will not come true.”
I spat out the betel chew that almost fell on the toe of his foot. Now I faced him. I did not connect the nylon string yet. He was sitting on the stern of the holed and old body of the boat that was left by the first owner of this hut. It has been destroyed by time. Soledad and I used some parts of it for fire. By then Dodo came from the spring at the valley drawing water.
“Hey, Dodo, it’s good that you’re here,” Serapio’s immediate greeting to our young man.
Even if he was heavily loaded with the container can that he carried on his head, I saw that he gave a forced smile to Serapio. He immediately poured the water to the jar that was thickly grown with moss. From the nook, Dodo came near me wiping his arms that were sputtered with water with his hands.
“What can I do for you, Nong Apyong?” The young man asked Serapio.
“Remember what I told you?” Serapio said as he grinned.
“What did you tell me? Which of those?
“That which…It’s good that you are with me to assist me…so that I may also teach you the technique. From mixing, wrapping, lighting and throwing. So will you come with me?”
“Go with you? Where?”
Serapio, using his protruded lips, pointed at the vast seas.
Perhaps he remembered, Dodo also grinned. He said, “It’s up to Tatay Timoy.” The young man’s eyes were asking for a response. I know my son’s respect to me and his obedience to my words would not be easily effaced.
I turned to him.
And Dodo proudly said to Serapio: “So, Nong Apyong, Father would not allow me to,” Dodo said which dismayed Serapio.
“You would miss the opportunity…” Serapio was shaking his head while saying this. “You are only depending on that net? It will be easily torn. Here is a way of fishing that is one-time, you don’t take it. Look at me, all the policemen are my friends. They could not do anything; otherwise, they won’t have their share!”
Now I have sunk into the person of Serapio. He did not mind about other people so long as he could make sure of his own stomach. He did not mind who would be crashed.
“Bay Pyong,” I cut in. I replied to him then. It’s good to let him hear my reaction. “We’ll only use the net because it’s godly and there’s no one to fear. It’s clean. It’s not against the law.”
FISHING WAS not in my mind. I came from this and left it in my disappointment. My father was a fisherman, and I inherited from him the knowledge of this trade. But when I was newly married, I did what was right and tried what was violent, I was one of the dreaded hunters because, according to them, money would come easy to me. But when I had been caught and have tried the prison cell, I promised not to do it again even if someone would entice me with so much sweetness. What if the chief of police in the municipality was not religious? Perhaps, it could not be twisted, and perhaps, I would have been kept in prison ‘til now. It was good that he listened to my pleading and considered my miserable state, and that awakened me. There’s no better person than one who has not caused a problem.
I went to the countryside.
But my means of living in the countryside was only a momentary remedy from poverty. Then the place was troubled and was difficult to be lived in, the farmlands were left unattended. My fellow farmers evacuated, and I never heard about them anymore. And the rebels continued to bring havoc to the people.
The thought made my hair stand. It was against my will to leave the land I tilled. But my wife, Soledad, became nervous that her hyperacidity worsened. I was afraid she would lose her mind. So we were forced to leave the place, and we are here again, because we had nowhere else to go __ we came back to the sea. I have used my oar again but this time, in the kind of fishing that was worthy to be proud of.
And when I went back to the sea…
I raised my hand on the cliff beside this hut that we had bought when the owner of this left to Leyte. And in a loud voice, I told the sea:
“I am here again but now as a true friend. Allow me to live in your world. In return, I will protect the movement of your waves against those who wish to destroy it.”
Promise. And I fulfilled my promise.
I really hindered the desire of Serapio to allure my son. I wrestled with the poisonous powder that he baited on the young mind of my son that it could not win his heart nor sway his budding mind.
So one day I promised Dodo: “Dodo, tilling the land is good if we are the owner of the land we till. And because we don’t have our own land, it is best for you to go to school and finish your studies.”
There is one thing that is good in my son; he is not hard-headed. He would immediately obey. He has a great respect for me. I am happy with this.
But he asked me for an explanation.
“Father, why did you reject Nong Apyong’s offer for me?”
“The kind of fishing he wants you to learn is not good, son,” my immediate reply.
“It’s the same, Father. Fish is the purpose. And his catch is great. And it is easy, like a flip of a finger.”
“Yes, but the law runs after it,” I said.
“But sometimes, he had an order from the police.”
I could not answer him immediately. I seemed to be choked.
“Not all police would give bad orders.”
His young eyes were fixed intently on me. I supposed he understood, and he nodded. I breathed freely, then.
“I desire that you could go to school with the money obtained from clean means. And the type of our fishing, using the net, is known to be noble. So, because we are about to finish fixing its holes today, we will surely take it the next day. You must learn well how to use this. I am much assured that the course of our life will be better.”
“But why is it that Nong Apyong remain in that type of fishing? Another question from Dodo that surprised me.
“Serapio, Dodo, is a person who is always in a hurry. He has this tendency not to abide by the law. He is looking for problem.
I didn’t know if Dodo understood me. But he did not say a word anymore. I noticed that he became intent on what he was doing. He fixed the holes of the net fast.
THE NEXT morning, the next thing that Dodo and I were busy with, was to put floating materials on the fringes of the net.
“Tomorrow, Father, will we spread the net?” Dodo asked me.
I nodded. “Call our companions then,” I said.
Dodo agreed.
But then, there was a sudden roaring explosion from the sea.
“There’s a target!” Dodo said. “Perhaps Nong Apyong released it.”
“Possibly,” I said loudly. “Perhaps, his police friend ordered him.”
Early this morning, I saw Serapio talking to a policeman at the store of Marta-Oyong. Perhaps, that police had a guest.
But the explosion was so strong. It did not seem to sink down.
But we were not the only ones who were surprised. Our fishermen neighbors dragged their boats and rowed towards the location of the explosion. I had a different feeling. I was suspecting. So I immediately arose. “Dodo, let’s go…to our boat!”
Dodo and I moved with the group of fishermen. And…
We saw Serapio in a bad state. He was lifted and transferred to another boat. His face, his whole body, was covered with blood. One of his hands was gone!
“I shook my head. I chuckled. The sea was bleeding smearing the lips of its waves. The sea was wounded.
I noticed that Dodo was speechless. And after a short moment, I told him, “Let’s move, Dodo, let’s go back to the shore.” And I rowed. But Dodo did not say a word. He did not mind the oar on his lap. He did not lift it up.
I told him to row and only then he began to move.
“I have advised Serapio, Do,” I said. “That he should stop that kind of fishing because it will kill the small fishes. Besides, using explosives only creates a problem.”
“Ah, Nong Apyong found the problem he has been looking for, Father.”
I was surprised. I have noticed in Dodo the gradual maturity of his mind. One of the things he said was this, “The kind of fishing Nong Apyong has used is not wholesome, Father. It wounds the sea.”
The words of my son elicited interest in me. And I was enthusiastically rowing. I have just gained a different strength.
Marcelo A. Geocallo (1940–2023) was a prolific Cebuano writer whose literary voice resonated across Mindanao. Born in San Fernando, Cebu, and later based in Linamon, Lanao del Norte, Geocallo wrote poetry, short stories, essays, and one-act plays in Binisayang Sinugboanon.
Jon Saguban is a member of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, a religious order of the Catholic Church that is based in Sta. Filomena, Iligan City. Born in Jugno, Amlan, Negros Oriental, he arrived in Iligan City in 2004. In 2006, his first Cebuano story was published in Bisaya Magazine because of his unintended friendship with Tomas Sumakwel, then, the literary editor of Bisaya.
