(Published in the January 28, 2012, issue of Philippines Free Press)
Ikang,” Gaston cut in, “let Kumander Higante see what he can do.”
The woman pursed her lips.
“He’s so hot,” Higante said. He took out his amulet. Like the ones Ikang and Badong had, it contained a red pebble and a folded tiny piece of paper inside. He tilted the bottle and poured some coconut oil from it on his thumb. He whispered unintelligible words, and with the oil, he made a sign of the cross on the boy’s forehead.
Slowly the boy became still.
Higante rose, grinning with pride, looking at Ikang and then at Gaston. “A female babaylan,” he said, shaking his head. “Gaston, the babaylan is vital to a camp. You should know only where a woman can be good at.”
“Kumander Higante,” Ikang said, “perhaps you would be enlightened if I tell you that the original babaylans were all women. When our forefathers were still in Panay, it was the female elders who crafted amulets and talked to spirits. It is only when they moved here in Mindanao that male babaylans began to appear.”
“Really?” Higante said. “Perhaps that’s the reason why our forefathers suffered countless mishaps—because they trusted women with their lives.”
“Please,” Gaston interrupted, “we are not here to decide who’s the better babaylan. We’re here to know if the boy can survive.”
“He’s going to be all right now,” Higante said. “A drop from my amulet is enough for him to recover.”
The boy started tossing again, mumbling incoherent words.
“What have you done!” Ikang said to Higante. She kneeled down beside the boy. But in no time she stood up, shrieking.
The boy’s eyes were fluttering, the irises gone; only the white parts remained.
Ikang cried aloud, muttering, “My child, my child!”
“Take that crazy woman away from here,” Higante ordered. “Better yet, you all get out. I have to minister to the boy alone.”
Gaston led Ikang out. Badong—who had remained quiet through the commotion—and Colonel Bangit followed.
They all waited outside. The other warriors had gathered around, and they witnessed Ikang wailing for a lost child or something.
Ikang calmed down after some time. When she noticed Badong slip, she followed him. She found him behind a tree.
She slapped him. “You put me in shame,” she said.
“I told you,” Badong said, “I can’t heal the boy.”
“What did you two do!” a voice asked. It was Titing.
Ikang glared at Titing and walked away.
“Did you do something to the boy?” Titing asked Badong.
“She asked me to heal him,” Badong answered.
“Man, you’re in deep shit. Kumander Gaston’s going to kill you. First, he found you sneaking up on him and his woman, and then now—”
“Quit joking! I’m in serious trouble, and it’s you who put me into this.”
“I guess it’s time you told Kumander Gaston who you really are.”
“How would he believe me,” Badong said, “if the boy’s going to die?”
“The boy’s not going to die. If you indeed did something to cure him, then I’m sure he would be all right. I trust you.”
Badong sat down on the grass. “I don’t trust myself.”
Titing sat down beside Badong. “Have you forgotten what you and Ikang said?”
Badong frowned.
“You may doubt a person, but never doubt the amulet.”
II
The tongue licking her nipple was no longer a tiny eel, as it used to be. It was a mouthless leech, sliding on her skin clumsily, leaving a trail of slime in its wake.
“What’s bothering you?” Ikang asked Gaston.
The chief stopped what he was doing and rested his head between Ikang’s breasts. “I’ve been a fool,” he said.
Ikang held him. Before, she would run her fingers through his hair. But now her hands lay flat on the side of his head.
“It was a mistake to count on Higante, to believe we’re fighting for the same cause,” Gaston said.
“Indeed, why would he join forces with you?” Ikang said. “He won’t get anything from your mission. No loot, no girls to violate, nothing but peril. Now you know who he really is.”
Gaston rolled off Ikang and sat up. “The bastard,” he said, “he told me we would only wait for the boy to regain consciousness and identify who attacked Dalia’s camp. Now that the boy has survived, Higante shows no sign of keeping his word. He even refused to come back here in the camp. He asked for me to go to him, only to dissuade me from pursuing the attack.”
Ikang sat up too, not bothering to cover her breasts, letting them dangle like papayas ripe for the picking. “Why?” she asked. “The boy had told us it was Datu Unsay who attacked them. Unsay has fifty men only. If your men and Higante’s men combined, you would outnumber the enemies two to one.”
“The problem is, Colonel Bangit said Unsay had joined forces with Datu Kling. They now have one hundred forty men . . . This is Colonel Bangit and Higante’s fault. If they let me attack the smallest group before, I should have avenged Dalia by now.”
“What are you planning to do now?”
“With or without help, I’m raiding Datu Unsay’s camp tomorrow night.”
“You’ve lost your mind. You’re committing suicide.”
“My men are strong. They will fight with me to death.”
“Your men? Do you think they still trust you? They’ve seen you voiceless against Higante and Colonel Bangit. How could they follow a weak leader?”
“It’s your fault,” Gaston said. “The amulets you made failed to protect Dalia and her men. Now how could my men trust theirs?”
“You’re blaming everyone except yourself,” Ikang said. “I told you, Dalia did not follow my instructions how to keep the amulet effective.”
“Then how about the wounded boy? He might have died if Higante did not see him.”
“I was the one who healed the boy. I wrapped a coconut husk around his wound, and it sucked the bullet out. The high fever he had was a temporary effect.”
“You want me to believe you? You broke down when he had a convulsion. You lost your mind in front of everyone.”
“It’s useless talking to you,” Ikang said. She fumbled for her clothes.
Gaston gripped her arm. “Not so fast, Ikang,” he said.
“Let me go,” Ikang said. “I’m checking on the boy.” Since the boy was able to walk, he was transferred from the dugout to the hut. “I need to rub oil on his wound before he goes to sleep,” Ikang added.
“The boy is now well. Is it really him you’re going to, or Badong?”
“What are you talking about?”
Gaston slid his hands under Ikang’s arms, and squeezed her breasts. “Do you think I haven’t noticed?” he whispered to her ears. “I’ve been observing you for the past few days, Ikang. You’re trying to seduce Badong. What are you up to? Why did you ask me to no longer punish him for peeping on us?”
“You’re hurting me, Gaston,” Ikang said. She tried to pry his fingers off, but he only hurt her more. “I told you, I want to train him to be a babaylan. He’s got a third eye that needs to be developed. He can be a great help to you.”
“To me, or to you?” Gaston asked.
Tears started streaming down her cheeks. “You’re imagining things. You’re crazy.”
He let her go, only to grab her neck. “Yes, I’m crazy,” he said, his breath on her face. “But I’m not a fool, Ikang. You’ve done to me what you’re doing to Badong. If you don’t stop, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you, too.”
“If you can!” Ikang shot back. “Badong is Nong Seño’s son. His father gave him a powerful amulet, more powerful than Higante’s or mine. All right. You want to hear it, Gaston? I’ll admit it. I’m going to use Badong. I’ll make him kill Higante, and if you’re a hindrance to my plans, I’ll make him kill you too.”
“Whore!” he said, pushing her down. “You can’t run away from me. You’re my slave.” He turned her around and raised her hips.
Ikang tried to get up, but Gaston pushed her again, her face landing on the sack. “Let me go,” she said. “I’m tired of relying on you. You’re inutile!”
“Inutile? Let me show you what I can do.” He shoved himself into her, and amid her protests, he pounded.
(To be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment