I watched the animated shadows around the small cabin and listened to the creaks and groans of the ship.
Having just woken up, I let my mind settle, staying still and silent by the bed.
The three-day journey from Bulacan to the fringes of Cavite was over—and without incident. Isidro had managed to convince Señor Alcantara, and the Diligencia was able to leave port on the morning of the 26th without garnering suspicion. She waited for us offshore of Ternate until dusk.
I still couldn’t believe everything had gone as planned.
I tilted my head, noticing sothing for the first ti. There was no sound of the engine. The ship wasn’t traveling—it was anchored.
I stepped out of the cabin and made my way to the deck. The sun was already out in its full glory. The vessel sat still on the calm waters, gently cradled by the waves.
There was only sky and sea, but sohow, the scene felt familiar to . I turned toward the starboard side and saw the island of Marinduque in the near distance. That small cluster of houses nestled in a sea of green trees was Boac.
I smiled as a shiver ran down my spine. Ho at last.
Leaning against the railings were so of the soldiers, dressed in their casual clothes, their uniforms still filthy with mud and gri. In sharp contrast to the miserable state they’d been yesterday, they were now talking and laughing. While they chatted, they munched on leftover rice cakes and fruits from the generous Caviteños.
Near the captain’s cabin, Dimalanta and Señor Alcantara paused their conversation to look at .
"How was your sleep, Don Lardizabal?" Alcantara hollered, grinning. "Or should I call you Heneral?"
The ship captain extended a hand when I reached him, but I went for a hug instead, to which he responded with a surprised chuckle.
"You have my gratitude, Señor Alcantara." I took his handshake only after releasing him from the embrace.
I hadn’t been able to speak with him last night. After a brief wash in town—and skipping supper entirely—we were hurriedly ferried to the ship. I rembered cursing my shaking legs as we climbed from the barges to the deck. After that, I didn’t rember much, only that I had stumbled to my cabin and dropped onto the bed.
"When I heard you accepted the appointnt as general, I couldn’t say no, Isidro," Señor Alcantara said. "You’ve taken a bigger risk than I did and shouldered a heavy responsibility."
I smiled and sighed at his words. Though I was ho, ho was where the work began. There was much to be done, and many difficult decisions awaited.
"Is Vicente still asleep?" I turned to Dimalanta. If I had to guess, it was already late in the morning.
"No... Heneral," Dimalanta replied. "He ca ashore with Isidro along with the crates and the horses. We didn’t want to wake you..."
"It’s alright," I said, narrowing my eyes at the makeshift port in the distance. I spotted the crates under a shed, a couple of soldiers standing guard, and two horses tied to one of the coco lumber pillars.
"Shall we move out, Heneral?" Dimalanta asked.
I said yes. He responded smartly, walking over to the soldiers with his stern drill-sergeant face. Señor Alcantara and I chuckled as we watched the young lieutenant interrupt the n’s good ti and herd them into formation like a seasoned sheepdog.
"Señor Alcantara," I said in a low voice, "you should join for lunch at the Casa Real. There’s sothing I want to talk to you about."
He raised an eyebrow, and I thought he would ask a question, but instead, he simply nodded.
---
I couldn’t quite make out the reactions of the people of Boac. They halted in their tracks, stopping whatever they were doing to watch us pass by. So grinned. Others furrowed their brows.
None of us were in uniform, but the soldiers still had their rifles slung over their shoulders and wore their straw hats, a few with the Republic’s coat of arms pinned on them. The crates also drew attention.
"You’ll know soon enough, Señor!" I hollered the sa answer for the third ti, as familiar faces peeked from their windows, shouting questions.
A group of kids began to follow us, pestering the soldiers with a barrage of petty queries. One stern word from , and they scattered.
"How do you think the town will take it?" Señor Alcantara, who was on Dimalanta’s horse, rode alongside . He wore his ship captain’s uniform—a white long-sleeved shirt that, from a distance, looked similar to the casitas the rest of us wore.
"Most of them will be thrilled, especially the common folk," I answered. "But the elites... those are the ones that will need convincing."
It had been the sa when the revolt against Spain was being planned. Those with much to lose from the destabilizing effects of war were naturally less accommodating. The poor, having little to lose and no promising future ahead of them, often leapt at the chance to see the world turned upside down—hoping to find themselves in a better place by the end of it.
Vicente was waiting at the doors of the Casa Real. When I asked why he left the ship without my permission, he gave a perfectly valid reason: he’d had to urgently take a dump after an expired suman wreaked havoc on his stomach.
"Where’s Isabela?" I asked.
"She’s in the backyard, Señor," said Rafael, the mayordomo, ever the silent presence in the background. He seed thrilled to see so many guests.
I then asked Vicente to lead Alcantara and Dimalanta to the sala upstairs and instructed Rafael to have the staff prepare refreshnts for the soldiers as well.
Isabela was busy when I erged in the backyard through the kitchen.
She looked to be in a foul mood, pulling up the withered rose bushes she had planted along the wall last August.
She sighed and whined as she worked, squatting down to uproot the dead shrubs—most of which had never flowered. I understood her frustration, but I did warn her that roses don’t thrive in salty soil and aren’t usually grown in coastal towns.
She eventually noticed in the corner of her eye and gave a tight-lipped smile. Her otherwise pretty face was twisted in a scowl, wordlessly asking for help.
"What’s this? Too busy to even greet your father at the docks?" I smirked and placed both hands on my waist.
She stood and brushed the dirt off her hands. "Nothing new. You always leave behind, then stay away longer than you promised."
"I said I’d be in Manila for a week."
"And it’s been a week and four days. That’s almost two weeks," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "And you didn’t even bring a pasalubong."
She was right, I hadn’t bought her anything and there had been several chances along the way. When she saw the look on my face, she dropped into a squat again and resud pulling the shrubs—this ti in an even worse mood.
My mind scrambled for a solution.
Then it hit .
What a convenient coincidence.
I pulled out the stems from my bag, rembering to keep the handkerchief. I walked over and squatted beside her.
For a while, I simply watched her in silence. While I’d been in Bulacan, Paz’s presence had overshadowed Isabela’s mory. But now that I was with my daughter again, I was reminded that this little darling still owned much of my heart.
"What?" she snapped when I brushed aside so stray strands of black hair from her face.
"Why not try another plant? Maybe sampaguita?" I presented the stems to her. "They thrive in salty soil and love sunlight—much better suited for your little garden here."
"Not to ntion," I added with a smile, "I’ve always thought sampaguita flowers are more beautiful than roses."
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