Tag: Jude Ortega

He inspected the plant more closely, and he noticed that a tiny stem at the center had been cut. The stem was still oozing with fresh purple sap. He realized that someone had reached the peak ahead of him and picked the flower.

He heard footsteps on the grass, and when he turned his head, he saw Indirapatra, bleeding profusely from the wound in his arm and chest. The knees of the older datu gave in, and he fell to his side near Sulayman. His palm opened, and a purple flower slipped to the ground.

Sulayman sneered in disbelief. “This isn’t happening. You’re weak. How did you survive?”

“I may not appear as strong as you are,” Indirapatra said, “but I’m not weak. In fact, because of what you did, I found out I’m as strong as you, maybe even stronger.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re not stronger. You just deceived me. Tell me, Indirapatra. What did you do? Before we went up here, did you make a deal with a demon to help you get through the traps?”

“Don’t accuse me of doing such things, Sulayman. I got here on my own strength and skills.”

“How did you get through the crocodiles? Uncle has never taught you how to fight them. It’s only me whom he taught. Whenever you are with Father learning about statecraft and other worthless matters, Uncle would take me to the jungle and teach me how to capture and kill beasts.”

Continue reading Brothers, Part 2

Indirapatra and his younger brother, Sulayman, reached the lakeside almost at the same time. The people cheered, but in a few moments, they became quiet when they found out that Sulayman’s boat was empty.

“This is surprising,” the rajah said, addressing both the crowd and his young nephews. “Datu Sulayman, the greatest hunter and fiercest warrior in the sultanate, came out empty-handed today.”

Instead of appearing ashamed, Sulayman stood in his boat with a smug look in his face. No one could guess what he was thinking.

The rajah turned to Indirapatra. “My nephew, kindly show your subjects what you have for them.”

Indirapatra nodded. He addressed the people. “It has been months now since a giant crocodile appeared in the lake and started attacking human beings, forcing our fishermen to stop working and causing shortage of fish supply. I assure you, though, that the chieftains, under the orders of my father, the sultan, are doing everything they can to have the monster killed or at least driven away. For the meantime, please accept the fish that my brother and I catch for all of you. For this day, here’s what my lucky net has snagged.”

Indirapatra jumped from his boat and tipped it over. The people gasped in surprise when a fish as long and large as the boat dropped on the sand. The fish was at least thirty feet long, easily the biggest ever caught from the lake.

Continue reading Brothers, Part 1

Chieftain Logaton lays a chunk of ground areca nut on the betel leaf, adds a dash of lime, and rolls the leaf. He hands the whole quid to Timuk.

Timuk bites off and chews. In a moment, the menthol taste of the quid cools his mouth.

Chieftain Logaton smiles at Timuk. “You don’t have to tell it to me, young man, but I know that’s the best quid you’ve ever had.”

Timuk spits the residue on the dirt floor. He says, “I won’t be stingy with my praise, Chieftain. You deserve the reputation for having a way with plants. You use the same ingredients as others do, but your hand adds magic to the quid.”

Logaton’s smile widens, exposing his red, areca-stained teeth. “Ah, but you have yet to taste my latest concoction. I found out betel quid tastes so much better when sprinkled with tobacco. I’ll make one for you. You should take it to your fagamal.”

“Tobacco? Isn’t that from the lowlands?”

Logaton stares at Timuk, his smile wiped away. “Yes,” the chieftain says. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Chieftain, I must come to the lakeg tree as pure as possible. My betel quid must not contain anything that is not from here, especially something that is brought by our enemies.”

“Oh, that Wot!” Logaton says. “He has poisoned your mind against the people from the plains. He is not content with sending you off with just betel quid. He also wants you to not enjoy the quid. A quid is just a quid, it’s not food. Only food is prohibited. You won’t violate any rule whether your quid has areca or tobacco or weed.”

“It wasn’t Chieftain Wot who told me about staying pure. It was Chieftain Bendung.”

“That Bendung, too. I’m sure he made you a beliyan like him. How does he expect chants to help you stay alive for nine days? To tell you what I truly feel, young man, this guardian seeking is madness. Nobody knows if akaws still exist.”

“Chieftain Sik, the next and last chieftain I’ll visit, had a spirit-guardian not a long time ago.”

“But not anymore. The spirits have left us, young man. What the other chieftains don’t see is that for the people of the plateau to survive, we must adapt to the times. We must learn the ways of the people from the plains. We need not fight Gantuangco. Do you know what I’ve done? I let the company use my territory without any objection. I struck a deal with Mr. Gantuangco himself. I told him I would not oppose the operation but the company must hire the people of my village as workers.”

Timuk’s mouth falls open.

Continue reading The Last Guardian Seeker, Part 2

Timuk wipes the tears off Wadina’s cheek. “I will come back,” he tells his wife, his hands cupping her chin.

“I know,” Wadina says. “I’m sorry, I can’t help but cry. I know you can do it. You can capture the akaw. It’s just that . . . Oh, Timuk, it’s too dangerous. For nine days, you have to stay in the lakeg tree without food, and then you will fight the spirit-guardian when it appears. Do you really have to do this?”

“I have to, Wadina. The five chieftains have chosen me. This quest is for all the Manobo people. We cannot fight the intruders on our own. They have guns. We need the akaw to protect us.”

Wadina takes a deep breath. “I will offer my prized hen to Nemula,” she says. “I know the almighty will help you. You have a good heart, Timuk, and you are brave and intelligent.”

Timuk smiles. He kisses the infant in Wadina’s arms and whispers, “Sleep tight, child. I am taking this fagamal for you. I want you and your brother to grow up without fear, safe in the land Nemula gave us.”

The older child, five summers old, stands silently beside Wadina. Timuk kneels down and tells him, “While Father’s gone, you take care of Mother, all right?”

“Yes, Father.” The boy speaks with the fluency of a grownup. “I’m the man of the house now.”

Timuk chuckles. “Good,” he says, tousling his son’s hair. “You remember everything I tell you.” He stands up and tells his wife, “Do not worry, Wadina. I am not alone in this quest. I will be bringing with me the counsel of the five chieftains. I have spoken to two of them, and I will drop by the remaining three on my way to the lakeg.”

“I trust you, Timuk,” Wadina says. “Your children and I will be waiting for you.”

“I will come back,” he says. He unties his horse from the tree and mounts it.

The other people from the village, huddled several feet behind Wadina, yell the guardian seeker goodbye. Timuk waves at them as the horse runs, disappearing into the other side of the hill.

Timuk feels cold, and he knows it’s not because of the wind sweeping past him. It’s because of fear. Despite the confidence he has shown his family and tribesmen, he’s not sure if he can capture the akaw, if he can grab its scrotum first. The chieftains have told him that if the akaw grabbed the seeker’s scrotum first, the man would lose his mind. For Timuk, it would be worse than death. It pains him to imagine himself going home talking to invisible people and laughing at inanimate objects. Wadina and the children will be hiding in shame all day. The kids in the neighborhood will tease him and make him dance. The elders will be shaking their head in disappointment.

Timuk reminds himself that he has to see three more chieftains. Perhaps after talking to them, he will finally be sure of himself. He lightly kicks the horse, and it speeds up, galloping on the footpath that leads to the village of Chieftain Wot. The pounding of the hooves is loud, but to Timuk’s ears, the beating of his heart sounds louder.

Continue reading The Last Guardian Seeker, Part 1

Bryan Corpuz walks along the road barely aware of the passing vehicles. Two things bother him. The first is his lack of money. The second is the death of Brigadier General Delos Reyes.

The young man is on his way to a drugstore, in the public market of Tacurong, where he is supposed to buy a week’s worth of medicine for his diabetic father. The money in his pocket, however, is not even half of the amount he needs. When he comes back home later, he might have to explain why. He might have to tell his parents that he is not just on a month-end break; he has gone AWOL from service. He is a soldier no more.

The other thing bothering Bryan is the same news that has shocked the nation. General Delos Reyes, the highest-ranking finance officer in the army, was found dead in a hotel in Makati this morning. The official had been involved in a massive corruption scandal, and he was scheduled to appear in the Senate hearing today. With his death, he took with him the dark secrets of the armed forces, and Bryan’s last hope of being called back for duty.

Bryan is so preoccupied that he doesn’t notice a white van pull up right in front of him. He’s surprised when the door opens and two armed men step out of the vehicle.

“Get in,” one of the men tells him.

The strangers need not use threatening words. They need not brandish or point their guns at him. Having been a soldier, Bryan knows what weapons can do. As though the men are just his pals giving him a ride, he steps inside the vehicle without a word.

Continue reading Soldier

The antang was concluded, and Lele was betrothed to Dudim, the son of the lukes from the next Manobo hamlet. When Lele’s father broke the news to her, she nodded meekly, even forced herself to smile. But as soon as the old man was out of the hut, tears raced down her cheeks.

The girl glanced out the window and saw Saluding under a tree, staring back at her. His face was dark and his jaw was clenched. There was no longer any future for them.

The bamboo floor creaked and Lele recognized the familiar footsteps of her mother. The girl wiped her cheeks with her hands and Saluding walked away.

Lele’s mother must have caught the glances between her daughter and Saluding, but the woman acted as though she did not notice anything. “Come here, Lele,” she said. “Put this sudung on your hair. You have to look beautiful. Hurry, now.”

“I don’t want to go out of the house, Ina,” Lele said.

“Don’t embarrass your uncle, Lele. He is our lukes and he has arranged a good marriage for you. All he is asking you to do now is go to his hut and bid goodbye to your future husband and his father.”

“Ina, I don’t want to get married. I don’t like Dudim.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with you young people nowadays. When your father asked for my hand, I did not utter a single word against it. Look, Lele, there’s nothing more you can ask for. Dudim is a good hunter and not much older than you. You are lucky. Think of the previous kenogon here who was married. Her husband was the same age as her father.”

“Dudim is ugly and bosses people around. He thinks he’s more powerful than his father.”

“He may not be the most dashing man in these parts, but Dudim’s not ugly, Lele. You know that. And, yes, he seems too proud at times, but it’s just his way of commanding respect. Being the son of the lukes, Dudim has a good chance of succeeding his father, and people should recognize his standing this early.”

“He’s ugly, Ina, and I just don’t like him.”

“Stop acting like a child, Lele. You’re already fourteen, a woman now. And a wife soon.”

Tears fell again from Lele’s eyes. “My heart does not beat for Dudim.”

“I will hear nothing of that, Lele. You will learn to love Dudim, just like I did your father.”

“I will love no one but—”

“Lele! What you want will never happen. The antang is done; the elders have decided. You will do well to embrace your fate.”
Continue reading The Bride

The night-out we were having was crucial, a reunion of sorts, and it would determine if I’d been a fool or just half a fool to have come back to General Santos City.

My cousin Dondon waved goodbye to our grandmother. “Don’t worry, La,” he said. “We’ll take care of your favorite grandson.”

“You better,” Lola said. “I know Ramil is a good boy, and you two are tonto!”

“La, that’s no fair!” Thirdy, another cousin of mine, complained, smiling at Lola. I’m sure it’s the smile he used to charm the local beauty queens. “We’ve never done anything that tainted the name of the Esguerras.”

“Hala,” Lola dismissed us with a wave of her hand, “you kids do whatever you want. You are all old enough.”

Lola closed the opened leaf of the double door, straining a bit in its weight. The large door, made of narra and carved with intricate eagle figures, was a reminder that the big house had once accommodated people who came in droves, when Lolo was still alive and ruling the city as mayor.

Thirdy closed the gate of the family compound. “We thought you’d forgotten Gensan,” he told me. “How long has it been, fifteen years?”

Continue reading Musketeers