Within the Walls

Chapter 14

 “Aurelio,” the man screeches the chair as he stood up, “bakit mo dinala iyang babae na iyan dito!(Why did you bring this woman here!” His nose flaring and eyes staring intensely into Aurelio’s neutral eyes, scowling even. While my body shivered from the intensity of his voice, hiding behind Aurelio who places a defensive hand on my shoulder.

 “Itay, siya’y kaibigan ni Restituto, alam mo namang madalang magkaibigan iyon.” Aurelio coldly replying with Restituto and I’s supposed friendship. My mind raced, how can I say that I’m not friends with Restituto in this timeline. But I can’t speak, I feel a stinging pain on my throat like barbed wire choking my windpipe.

 “At paano ka nakasisigurado na kaibigan siya ni Restituto! (At paano ka nakasisigurado na kaibigan siya ni Restituto!)” From what I heard, he’s Aurelio’s father. His worn face reflecting the lives he lived, wrinkly forehead, droopy eyes, patches of discoloration on his cheeks. But a vigorous tongue coiled like a whip, his words sharp and a shrill manner.

 “Tondo.”

 Everyone in the room gasped, some with hands covering their gaped mouth as they avert their gaze to Aurelio, and stared at me inquisitively with furrowed brows. Aurelio’s father muttered a ‘hmph’ and motioned us to go inside. Aurelio gestured me to walk in first, him following after he peered through the almost-closed door, then locking it, double-checking to make sure.

 He strode to the seat, pulling the chair and asking me to sit down. I declined, raising my hands and shaking my head. I don’t even know what I’m gonna do here, are the Restituto in my timeline one and the same? But Aurelio’s insistence broke my reverie, his tone now commanding. I sat down, slowly, and Aurelio crossed his arms and towered behind me.

 Aurelio’s father glanced at me, then to the other people on the table. “Now, when night falls, each of you will be assigned a certain job.”

 I gazed upon Aurelio, who doesn’t even look down and stared straight ahead.

 The sort-of discussion droned on, my eyelids dawdled to a close until I heard Aurelio’s name. “Aurelio and …”

 “Josefina.” Aurelio replied with a thick, English accent.

 “I will assign you two at Muralla, one of my contacts will be there, be sure to get the package carefully!” He stressed the last word.

 “Will do, father.”

 “Now,” addressing the whole room, “everyone is given their task. Disperse!”

 The screeching of chairs echoed inside the boarded room, only noticing now that the light that peeked through the boards vanished.

 Aurelio pulled my chair. “Shall we?” He offered his hand. Now, I don’t hesitate, he has been really great to me. He’s very gentleman-like, I would remember my father always doing this with me and my father. I tittered.

 “Anong nakakatuwa Ligaya?” He asked what’s funny, with a smile on his face.

 “Naalala ko lamang ang aking tatay, ganyan din siya umakto.” I explained to him that my father behaved like him. His brows furrowed, tilting his head with inquisitive eyes.

 We head out to the door as per instruction, the footsteps from outside getting father. He opened the door for me, and I mouthed a ‘thank-you’ as he followed behind me.

 We descended down the grand staircase arm-to-arm, I’m still admired by the architecture of the building. “That’s right, I heard you say your father’s name.” Aurelio posing it as a form of question as we head out through the double doors opened for us.

 I turned my head around, the night settling in as violet invaded the patches of orange in the sky. The lamp posts flickered open, illuminating the streets where once filled with vendors in the distance, gone.

 “My father’s been missing for almost a month now, and it’s like he left a void at home.” I said in a hushed tone, recalling the change in my mother, her once verbose mouth that cracked jokes with my father and heartily laughed. Now, she only sat on the couch, with a pen on hand and a piece of paper lied squarely on the table.

 Aurelio’s lips parted slightly, revealing some of his upper teeth, his brows raised. He grabbed my hands, and balled it into a fist along with his. “He will come back.” His tone assuring.

 I weakly smiled at him as he lets go of my hands and we trudged further into the streets.

 I turn my head to see my hands above my head, gazing up I see my smiling father, the path in front of us painted with orange lights mimicking the Spanish colonial times. Trees traced with LED lights and thin, sheet spheres that contribute to the vintage aesthetic of the street of Intramuros. Other people examining the place, phones in their hand as they snap pictures of every street they come across. My father carries me on to the steep ramp that lead to the walkway of the wall. He holds my hand as we skip to our signature spot, the walkway infront of the Manila Cathedral, where we see the cars that drive inside the gateway modernism evident, and the other side, a place almost lost in time with architecture derived during the 1800s.

 “Alon, tingala ka!” My father gleefully asking me to look up.

 Excited, I look up, and the stars twinkle beautifully, some forming shapes that me and my dad trace with our hands, laughing afterwards. He slings his bag to his front, rummaging through its contents for the Polaroid. He brings it to his eyes and a bright flash of light momentarily blinding me. But, his bag flop on the ground, along with the camera that cushioned its fall.

 I turn my head from side to side. “Da–daddy?”

“Narito na tayo.” Aurelio said, telling me that we’ve arrived.

 Muralla is one of the streets of Intramuros as far as I remembered, it’s next to another gateway with men clad in uniforms with guns pointed at one it looked like a Filipino wearing a cheap chino shirt, and a hat made of hay.

 “Wag po! Wag po!” The man pleaded, his hands raised to shield himself from the pointed rifles, tears streamed down his face, the shiver in his body present. “Gutom lang po ang aking anak! Maawa po kayo!(My daughter is hungry, please have mercy!)” He kneeled down, his hand holding a loaf of bread behind him, his chest raising in quick succession. His cries echoing underneath the gateway, almost anyone would be alarmed of the sound, but only the crickets chirped and the wind howling. Suddenly, a hushed shriek. And the cries died down.

 “We are doing this for those who can’t defend themselves, it ends here.” Aurelio whispered to me, anger definitely present in his voice.

 We sneaked to an alleyway next to a school, at the end, a man wearing the blackest of every black suit stood with arms crossed, leaning on the wall with a barrel beside him. His features not touching the light.

 “Sa itaas, magalang ang mga anak ng bayan.” Aurelio called out.

 The man emerged, with him a barrel he effortlessly carried to us. Then, he touched the light.

 “Ginoong Placido.(Mr. Placido).”

 “…Placido?” I muttered, my eyes fixating on the emerging man.

 Then, we’re eye to eye.

 “Ligaya?”

 “Itay? (Dad?)”