The Rise And Fall Of Brother Bobby

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Published by Abshott Publications 11 Hayling Close Fareham Hampshire PO14 3AE E mail: SecretaryDolores@yahoo.co.uk www.TrojanHorseInternational.com All right reserved.

Copyright under the International Copyright Convention No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

ISBN: 1508431655

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Publishers Note This book was due to be published under the pseudonym of Jeff DuBuisson, a 15th century ancestor on the author mother’s side. He was a Norman knight who was awarded at St. Hellier, Jersey, for his services to the crown.

The Rise And Fall Of Brother Bobby, is dedicate to the memory of Michael J. Clarke who died of Tuberculosis, as a prison inmate, in New Bilibid Prison, Philippines.

Michael tells his own story in our book, ”Trojan Warriors”. that is a true account of his entrapment and imprisonment and is available from the publisher. He also tells his story in person on a Youtube video URL http:// youtu.be/lqgMiB5-hW0 , under the title, Michael Clarke’s Testimony.

This book is a humorous story and tells of the religious nature of some Filipino’s and the form of corruption and injustice that can an does takes place in Third World countries.

Foreword by David Clarke Whilst this story is pure fiction it is based on real 3

happenings in the Philippines. Alan, the author, wished to publish this work under his pseudonym to avoid any repercussions that may occur if publish under his real name and that may have occurred due to the repercussions that may have occurred due to any opposition or retaliation that may occur due to him telling things as they are. Sadly Alan died the week the book was to be published so we feel it appropriate to publish it under his real name. The story is loosely base on a certain catholic priest who works in Olongapo City and is the central character of the book, “Brother Bobby”. My interest in the story, which is very humorous story, is the fact that my brother Michael was set up for a crime he did not commit, in exactly the same way this story portrays. Now although he was guilty of immoral conduct, he was set up by “Brother Bobby, and sentenced to a 16 year term in New Bilibid Prison, where he died of tuberculosis in 2005. His story is told in our books, “Converted on LSD Trip”, “Trojan Warriors”, “Borstal Boys” and now as a punk rock opera, “Borstal Boy” designed to be performed in prisons.

Alan was a very great help to me during my mission to the Philippines when I went to help my brother and with our mission work to the jails of the Philippine. See the note recorded in chapters 42 and 43 towards the end of this book.

David Clarke 2015

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Contents

Publishers Note Foreword by David Clarke Authors Foreword 1 Roberto Goes Too Far 3 Not Quite – But Close 4 A Missionary Is Born 5 A Partner In Crime Is Gained 6 Sampling The Night In Manila 7 Hallo San Fernando 8 A New Experience 9 Meeting The Mafiosa Priest 10 Life Looks Up 11 Starting The Mission 12 The First Bible Class 13 Meeting The Neighbors 14 The Mission Grows 15 A Very Dirty Weekend 16 An Expansion Is Planned 17 The Priest Threatens 18 Planning For Razmataz Religion 19 It Works – Jesus Rocks 20 A Serious Romance Blossoms 21 Loosing The Lust 22 Bigger And Better 23 Priestly Power And They’re Stymied 24 Changes Their Lives 25 A Child Shelter Is Born 26 A Home For Abused Children Is Born 27 The Money Tree Named Sacs 28 Justice- Philippine Style 29 From Child To Children

3 3 8 13 24 29 34 42 48 57 65 75 80 84 93 101 107 128 139 144 150 161 168 172 176 183 191 196 204 210 217 5

30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

Medico-Legals Evidence 223 Serious Stuff 230 A Huge New Case 234 Pedophile Fishing 244 Mission Successful 251 The Frenzy Of The Press 256 The Money Flows In 267 A Pedophile Drought 277 False Accussations 289 Wanted – Perceived Pedophiles 295 One More Try 305 A Swift Fall 316 Manila Correspondent 325 Self Styled Evangelist 325 Provoking Anger 326 Genuine Reason To Visit 326 Many Criminal Convictions Questioned 326 Father Shay Cullen 327 Baptism in An Oil Drum 327 Magic or Miracles 328 Converted On LSD 328 Manila Fire 329 A Childrens Home Shalom Bata 329 43 Opposition a Mark of Success 330 Crab Mentality 330 Opposed to the Mission 331 The Host Is Absent 331 Incest A Real Problem 331 The Philippines Is A Complex Country 332 For What It’s Worth 332 Stupidity Not Martyrdom 332 44 Other Publications 334 1 Converted on LSD Trip 334 1 Trojan Warriors 336 3 Bierton Strict and Particular Baptists 338 4 The Bierton Crisis 341 6

5 6 7 8 9

Converted on LSD Borstal Boys The Parousia Mary, Mary Quite Contrary Borstal Boy

343 345 348 351 354

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Authors Foreword First-time visitors to the Philippines soon discover that it is a land of extreme contrasts. Luxury, chauffeur driven cars vie for space on overcrowded roads with hundreds of smoke-belching jeepneys and ancient buses. Modern luxury condominiums thrust their fingers to the sky in full view of illegal, rusting shanty towns, teeming with half-naked children. Huge, air-conditioned shopping malls house not just locally-known department stores but also shops and boutiques with internationally-recognized brand names such as Gucci, etc. Public highways thread between the high walls of exclusive gated villages of the wealthy, where private security guards ensure their privacy from the hoipolloi.

In spite of this ostentatious display of wealth, at virtually every traffic light, women, usually carrying babies, or young children tap vehicle windows and press their noses against the glass begging for money. Also walking between the lines of stalled traffic will be vendors of a range of products from individual cigarettes to dusting rags. After dark, until the early hours of the morning, these will be replaced by very young children selling individual roses or strands of threaded Sampguita, a fragrant flower that can fill the interior of a car with a very pleasant odour.

Everywhere one goes, there are churches of many denominations, although the Roman Catholic Church claims to enjoy the support of eighty percent of the population. Indeed, most Filipinos believe they are either devout Christians or Muslims. Few will miss attending Mass at least once a week. Masses are not just confined to a church, but are frequently held in places of work, the lobbies of office blocks, golf clubs and even shopping malls.

Both taxi drivers and their Filipino passengers will make 8

the sign of the cross as they pass a Catholic Church. In spite of this public display of religiosity, generally speaking, Filipinos appear to believe that the Ten Commandments apply to all others, except themselves. Witnessing the mass hysteria and almost violent attempts to touch statues paraded through the streets during annual fiestas of either the Virgin Mary or various saints because of belief that they contain magical powers begs the question of ‘is this not idolatry’? It is accepted that married men will at least commit adultery at best or have a mistress or secret second wife at worst. Cities throughout the Philippines all have thriving, short-time love motels. Sadly, murder is common, especially in the provinces during election time. Stealing is common, although when one realises the huge difficulty of getting employment, and there are no government handouts, this is understandable. If the Filipino does not have a job, in order to survive he has to either blatantly steal, or use his head to find a way to make money. A great number choose the latter and it becomes such a habit that often they would enjoy more success by just being straight.

Unfortunately, it is not just the unemployed that believe that extortion is a way of life. Very often, it is those employed, but poorly paid individuals, such as policemen, to whom the government unwittingly provides the tools.

A good example is that, distressed about the apparent proliferation of illegal drugs among Filipino youth, in their usual knee-jerk fashion, the government passed a law making it a statutory sentence of life imprisonment for mere possession, no matter how small the quantity. Now, rogue policemen can plant the smallest amount on a person, arrest them but demand a large sum of money to not press the charge. This is happening today. To the amusement of Manila residents recently, this happened to one young 9

man, who the extorters allowed him to make a telephone call to arrange the substantial sum they were demanding.

Upon connecting his call he handed over his telephone only to discover the youth was the son of the newly appointed Chief of Police. Oops indeed.

This book also unveils some characteristics of the Filipino race that they may prefer to keep from prying eyes.

The main characters, Bobby and Louie, although born in the Philippines, have been raised, and spoiled, in the United States of America. In spite of this, when the chips are down and they too have to survive, the in-built Filipino cunning comes to the fore.

After acceding to his father’s demand that he become a missionary to the Philippines, Bobby initially makes a good attempt to make a living from preaching. This is in itself a miracle considering Bobby’s total lack of knowledge or interest in the Holy Bible.

Aided by his trusted friend, Louie, once he discovers that Filipinos enjoy a show, he begins to succeed, but the local Roman Catholic priest, who is an American of Italian decent perceives that money that should be going to his pocket is being siphoned to Bobby, so he succeeds in stopping Bobby. With all income now ceased, fate steps in and a home for sexually abused children is formed by accident. During a walk, Bobby and Louise witness a man struggling with a small screaming girl. Realizing that the man, who turns out to be a German national, is trying to sexually assault the girl, they make a citizen’s arrest. The resulting publicity wrongly attributes them with having a home for abused children and, out of the blue, donations for its upkeep start to flow in. After a discussion with Bobby’s uncle, they realize that this could be a good business. That they will offer to pay for private prosecutors of foreign 10

paedophiles, they will house the victims and campaign for donations.

Their optimism was caused by the newspapers of the period continually full of stories of how foreign men were arriving in droves in the Philippines with sole intention of having sex with the children. Although it is obvious that all Southeast Asian countries do attract the odd paedophile, the newspapers gave the impression that one had to step over them in the street. Similar to the drug problem, the Philippine government, in a typically ill-thought out measure passed the infamous Republican Act 7610, under which any man could be charged even if alone with a child without they having a relative present, Worse, although we all agree that sexual abuse of a child is a heinous crime, it carried the death penalty. Extortionists had a field day.

Accuse and arrest the foreigner and demand huge sums of money or he could face lethal injection. Worse still was in store for those who just didn’t have the money because being found guilty even in the face of the flimsiest of evidence was a certainty, even though after three years or so in jail, the Court of Appeals tended to overthrow the sentence.

One Englishman, John Pidden, was sentenced to 14 years for allegedly touching the thigh of an 8 year-old. Note that the author is not aware of one case prosecuted under this racially prejudiced law in the last ten years, although he knows of a large girls home on the outskirts that houses over 400 Filipina girls who have been sexually abused by their own Filipino relatives or neighbours.

Little wonder then that Bobby becomes surprised at the difficulty of locating paedophiles to prosecute. Yet unless they do, they lose their reason for being and the donations will dry up. In desperation, the pair start to make cases against innocent men.

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In a unexpected twist, the local priest uses their own methods against them to gain both the business and its assets.

Although events in this book might bear a resemblance to real-life happenings on the Philippines, the characters are all purely figments of the author’s imagination and any perceived resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

Jeff DuBuisson (Alan C. Atkins)

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Manila 2012

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Roberto Goes Too Far Rosalita Reyes lay relaxed on her lounger with a rum sling in her hand, staring out over the bay that fronts Acapulco. She was well in the shade of the verandah of their luxury resort cottage because, being Filipino, her desire was a whiter rather than darker skin. Through the open doors to the lounge she could hear her husband Renato on the telephone talking to his general manager in Los Angeles.

She could clearly hear everything he said because like all Filipinos he seemed to believe he was talking into a tube rather than an electric line using conductivity and thus he shouted all of the time.

Rosalita loved her husband very much. Together they had risked everything by migrating to the United States over sixteen years previously, with their one and only son, Bobby. At first they had both worked at any menial job that was available, but her husband insisted they save as much as they could to enable him to start his own business. They had started with a small cake shop, both working at baking and selling. Then they had expanded into other areas and now they had three bakeries supplying their own chain of shops situated in virtually every shopping mall in California.

The problem with this success though was that they rarely had time to enjoy each other’s company. Renato was kept so busy from early morning, sometimes not returning until after nine at night, totally exhausted. She no longer had to work and instead enjoyed the social life of living in the hills above the Los Angeles smog, with Mexican servants to do her bidding. It had taken a lot of persuasion and working on Renato to get him to agree to at least this fourday vacation in Mexico. As she had told him, “Renato. You think you are indispensable. Let me tell you. The graveyard is full of indispensable people, and that is where you are 13

heading if you don’t take a break.” So far they had enjoyed two glorious nights together, with Renato being so relaxed it was just as though they had been newly weds. Then she heard the words she had been dreading. “Okay, dammit. I will see if I can get back by tonight. I’ll let you know when we will arrive so that you can have the car meet me.” She heard him slam the telephone down, light a cigar, Filipino of course, and come out through the door. He was obviously thinking of how he was going to break the news.

“Don’t bother Rennie,” she said. “I heard you. You always shout when you are on the phone.”

“Rosie, honey. I am sorry, but it is urgent. We are being given the opportunity to open up in Nevada and that was a closed shop before. I have to get back for a meeting tomorrow.”

With a sigh, she rose from the lounger. “It’s okay, honey.

I know I will not change your mind. I’ll start packing and you see what flight we can get.”

“Gee, Rosie,” he said, flicking the ash from his cigar.

“You know, I really love you.”

“Only when you get your own way,” she smiled. She bent and kissed his cheek. “Perhaps you will take me to Vegas with you,” she said.

“Rosie,” he smiled. “You are definitely on. With a chick like you on my arm, I will be the envy of every man, including Sinatra.”

“Sinatra’s dead,” she answered over her shoulder, moving towards the bedroom Unfortunately, most of the early flights were full, so they were even able to enjoy one last magnificent dinner before going to the airport..

When the arrived in Los Angeles it was past one in the morning. In spite of the lightness in the traffic, it still 14

took nearly another hour to reach their home. As they approached, the first thing they noticed was the large number of cars parked in the road outside and in their long curving driveway. The next thing was that every light in the house was on and they could hear the music even though sat in an air-conditioned limousine.

“What the hell is going on here,” said Renato as the limo pulled to a stop outside of the open front door.

“It seems as though Bobby is having a party,” answered Rosita.

“Why would he be having a party?” asked Renato. “It’s not his birthday, is it?”

“No, honey,” answered Rosita. “That’s in January and this is August.”

They both emerged from the car and went up the steps.

They could already see that even the hallway was crowded with young men and women. Some of the women were just in their underwear, and there was not much of that. They stood there with the loud rock music filling their ears. A young girl in just bra and panties noticed them and came staggering towards Renato, sloshing much of her drink over the parquet floor.

“Hello you old dog. Why don’t you dump the old broad and let me take to upstairs and bring you alive again.”

Before Renato could speak, Rosita stepped forward swinging her hand and caught the girl hard on her cheek with a resounding slap. The girl staggered sideways, fell on her butt and had both legs up in the air spread wide. Renato was not that old not to notice that there was indeed very little material used in the manufacture of the panties.

“Get dressed, you slut and get out of my house, and I mean right now,” shouted Rosalita. She then stormed into the huge lounge that contained the entertainment 15

center and switched off the music. “Right,” she shouted.

“Everybody. The party is over so go home before I call the police.” She then returned to an open-mouthed Renato who was stood like a statue in the now quiet hall. “Bobby.” She yelled. “Bobby, Get your useless ass here now and get rid of these people.”

A young man of about twenty-one came to the top of the curving staircase, hastily donning his trousers. He was shirtless and his eyes were open wide. “Christ,” he said. “The oldies are back a day early.”

“Get rid of these people. Now!” screamed an almost hysterical Rosalita.

“Right ma,” he said, stumbling over in his panic.

“Everybody,” he shouted running down the hallway. “The parties over. My mum and dad are back. Quickly. Get out.” Every one of the six bedroom doors opened almost simultaneously, and couples in various states of undress came out, carrying the remainder of their clothing in their arms. As they came tumbling down the stairs, one largebusted blonde, wearing only her panties, stumbled and Renato automatically moved to stop her falling.

“Renato,” screamed Rosalita. “Let go of that slut. You don’t know where she has been.” The word rapidly spread through the house and the evacuation was completed in minutes. The roar of cars outside made the usual quiet of the area sound like the start of a grand prix race.

Suddenly, the house was quiet. Three bedraggled Mexican servant girls quietly entered the hall. They were not in uniform, but just wearing the simple slip dresses they preferred when off duty. Having been unable to sleep for the noise, they appeared very tired.

“Juanita,” said Rosalita. “Completely strip our bed of sheets and blankets, including pillows, and remake it with 16

fresh. God knows what is on our sheets that we could catch.”

The maid gave a semi-curtsey. “Si, Ma’am,” she said and made for the stairs.

“You two other girls make sure the kitchen and dining room are cleared up so that sir Renato can breakfast in the morning, and then you may go to bed. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Renato appeared to emerge from his shock. “Bobby,” he shouted. “Where are you. Come here, immediately.”

A quiet voice came from above. “I was just going to go to bed, pa.”

“The hell you are. Get down here now,” shouted Renato.

“I need to speak with you.”

Bobby had donned a shirt, albeit unbuttoned, and slowly came down the stairs. “Sorry about this pa,” he said.

“It was only to be a small party, but it got out of hand.”

“The only thing that has gotten out of hand around here is you,” shouted Renato. “Now, let us go into the lounge.

Rosalita. Do you think you could rustle me up a cup of coffee?”

“Renato, baby,” said Rosalita. “Coffee will keep you awake, and you have an important meeting tomorrow. I will make you some hot chocolate in milk instead.”

He nodded his agreement. “You,” he said to Bobby. “In there.”

They entered the lounge. It was a wreck. Empty beer and wine bottles were everywhere, as well as glasses, many still half filled. Every ledge and shelf held the debris. Uneaten food was everywhere as though a food fight had taken place.

The furniture had been totally displaced to make space for dancing. “At least they rolled up the Persian carpets and put them out of harms way,” thought Renato.

“Now,” said Renato. “What the hell do you think you 17

are up to.”

“Oh, come on, pa,” answered Bobby. “At my age surely you had a little fun occasionally?”

“At your age, both your mother and myself were working in the Philippines saving for our visa fees and air fares to this country. We didn’t have time or money for having fun,” snapped Renato.

“Oh, pa. Please don’t give me the hard-life history again, especially at this time of day,” sighed Bobby.

“What you don’t seem to realize is that your mother and myself worked our fingers to the bone so that you, our only child, my son, would never know the meaning of poverty,” said Renato.

“That’s bullshit,” said Bobby. “You did it for yourselves.

To prove that Filipinos can do it. To show off to the people from where you came from. You didn’t do it for me.”

“Bobby,” said Renato quietly. “You have been a great disappointment to me. All of my life you have disappointed me. I send you to the best schools and you get yourself kicked out from them all. It embarrasses me. I send you to how many colleges?”

“Four,” answered Bobby. “Or maybe it was five.”

“Yes. Five,” said Renato. “You were expelled from every one. And yet, have you applied for any job?”

“I don’t know yet what I am interested in?” said Bobby, in a defensive tone.

“You have not applied for one job,” said his father. ”Not one solitary job application have you put in. You stay out to all hours of the morning. You are never awake in time to see me go off to earn the money you are spending.”

“I’ll get a job, pa. Honest,” said Bobby.

“Bobby. Bobby,” intoned Renato. “Get a job? You? Who will give you a job? You’re twenty-two. You have never 18

worked. You have no education to speak of. You have no experience at anything other than partying. Come off it boy.

You are unemployable.”

“Well,” asked Bobby. “What can I do about it? It’s not my fault.”

“Now you do sound like a Filipino. ‘Not my fault,’” mimicked Renato. “Of course it is your fault, and I am sick of it. Tonight is the last straw. You bring your dead-beat rich friends into my house and let them wreck it? Enough is enough.”

“What do you mean, pa?” asked a crestfallen Bobby.

“I have made up my mind,” said Renato. “You are going to become a priest.”

“A priest?” asked and astounded Bobby. “A priest? Me?” “Yes,” affirmed Renato. “A priest. You don’t have to be particularly clever to become a priest.”

“But I don’t even go to mass anymore,” protested Bobby.

“Or confession,” added Renato. “Nevertheless, you will apply at the seminaries, and this time, if you get expelled, I will totally cut you off without a cent. Do you understand?”

“I am not going to a seminary,” stated Bobby.

“In that case,” answered a reddening Renato. “In the morning you will pack one bag, leave your car here and get walking. You will never receive one cent from me. Even in my will I will leave everything to the Church and nothing at all to you.”

“Pa,” protested Bobby. “That is unfair.”

“You have one month to get accepted by a seminary and train to be a priest or you are out for good. If you do get accepted, then I will provide an allowance, even after you’re ordained and when both your mother and I go to God, then you will inherit and leave the priesthood if need be. Otherwise, nothing.”

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Bobby looked at the floor and considered his options.

He had been spoilt, especially by his mother. He had never considered that he would even have to work. The old man made more than enough to support him forever.

Life was too short. Why work if you didn’t have too? Now, however, was different. Would the old man reconsider in the morning? Perhaps. His mother would not want him to be a priest because she looked forward to having grandchildren. It was a pity he couldn’t tell her that she was already a grandmother to two, a boy in San Francisco and a girl here in Los Angeles. She was unlikely to understand, however, and certainly would not accept the boy who was half African-American. She might have accepted the girl, even though half Mexican, because she had been very fond of the mother when she had worked as a maid in the house.

Bobby came to the conclusion that he would be better to play for time and work on his mother.

“Okay, pa,” he said. “I will start applying tomorrow.”

“Good,” said Renato. “Now we can all go to bed.”

2 Roberto Learns Of His Future When Bobby awoke the next morning with the sun in his eyes, he knew without looking at the clock that it was past two in the afternoon. The sun never entered his bedroom until one-thirty at least. In spite of the air conditioner, he was sweating and uncomfortable. Carefully, he put his feet onto the floor and looked around. His bedroom was a complete mess, the maids having only been instructed to clear up his parents room the night before.

Draped across the back of the chair was a pair of scanty delicate lace panties. “Worth a sniff,” he thought, but then being brought up a good Catholic, immediately felt a pang of guilt at having had such a thought. There were empty 20

bottles laying around the floor, and glasses. Mainly wine.

“Some good times were had in here last night,” he thought, and smiled. Then he remembered the conversation with his father and the smile went from his face. A bloody priest?

Him? In a pig’s ass!

He rose from his sitting position and made his way to the drawers where he kept his boxer shorts. He pulled open the drawer and to his disgust discovered someone had deposited their used condom in it. “He wasn’t a Catholic,” he thought as he searched for something he could lift it out with. On the his desk there was a pencil, so he used it to lift the condom and carry it into the bathroom where he deposited it in the toilet bowl which he then flushed. “There goes another destined to end up in the shit,” he thought.

He returned to the open drawer and carefully examined the clothing therein to make sure that no spillage had occurred.

Satisfied, but still cautious, he removed the top pair and the next. The top pair he deposited directly into the dirty linen basket, while he carried the second into the bathroom. He quickly stripped and entered the shower and let the water bring him around before soaping his body.

Fifteen minutes later he descended the stairs dressed in fawn slacks, a loose t-shirt carrying a rude slogan and soft moccasins on his feet. He went directly to kitchen, where his mother was sat enjoying an orange juice.

“Hi, ma,” he greeted her. She stood up and, putting an arm across his shoulder, tilted her head for the customary kiss on the cheek. “How do you feel this afternoon?” she said, smiling while she sat down again.

“Not so good,” he admitted. He moved to the coffee pot, reached for a mug and filled it before returning to the table and sitting opposite her.

“You, Bobby, have been a very naughty boy,” she said.

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“You have certainly upset your father.”

“Yeah. I know,” admitted Bobby. “Did he tell you what he wants me to do?”

“Yes. Become a priest,” she said. “Oh, Bobby. I will be so proud of you if you become a priest.”

“You’re kidding, ma,” said an astonished Bobby. “You want me to become a priest? I thought you would sooner have me married and give you some grand kids.”

“Of course I want grandchildren,” answered Rosalita.

“What mother doesn’t?”

“But ma,” protested Bobby. “If I become a priest I have to take a vow of celibacy and can never marry. That means no grandchildren for you. Ever.”

Rosalita laughed. “Oh Bobby,” she said. “Sometimes you are so naïve. In our town in the Philippines there were four priests and all of them had fathered children.”

“You are kidding me. They all had children yet remained as priests?” asked Bobby.

“Of course, dear,” answered Rosalita. “The only difference between them and other men was that they couldn’t marry the mother.”

“But didn’t the laity object?” asked Bobby. “After all, they are supposed to not have sex at all.”

“Of course we didn’t object, dear,” answered Rosalita.

“It is perfectly natural. Men will always be men no matter what their profession.”

“But if they were living with the woman, then they were de facto man and wife.”

“No dear. Every priest has to have a housekeeper, so usually he will choose one from another province who is pretty. When she is pregnant, she is sent back to the province and raises the baby. The priest will send money and his mother knows and regularly will be able to visit her 22

own grandchild. That’s all.”

“But say if I become a priest and think that it is wrong.

You won’t have a grandchild,” protested Bobby.

“Oh, Bobby,” she said with a smile. “I know you better than I know myself. You are like your father was at your age. You have sex on the brain. You will not be able to stay celibate. The Church will forgive you for getting a girl pregnant, but they will throw you out if they find you are using a condom. That is a sin. You won’t be able to go without sex for very long.”

Bobby was a bit shocked at this revelation by his mother. She was correct. He loved making love to girls. Any color girl. In LA sex was available at all hours of the day and night and he loved it. Sometimes three a day and more if available.

“Shit,” he said. “I thought you would back me up against pa. I think I will go down town and meet up with the boys.”

He rose from the table.

“Your father says you are not to leave the house, dear” she said. “I visited the monsignor this morning and spoke with him. He has given me the addresses of a number of seminaries around the area and the names of the contact.

He has also drafted out an application letter. They are all in the study on your father’s desk. You are to write to them all this afternoon and your father’s messenger will deliver them all by hand tomorrow.”

“To hell with that,” said Bobby. “I need to get out of here. Where are my car keys?”

“Your father took them with him, dear,” answered his mother. “He says that if you leave the house, to take a bag with you and catch a bus, but don’t come back.”

“Hell,” said Bobby, and sat back down at the table and placed his face in his hands. “So you both mean it? I have to 23

become a priest.”

“Yes, dear,” answered his mother. “We both think that it will be for the best.”

Resolve overcame him and he stood up. “What did Shakespeare say? If it has to be done then twer well it were done quickly. You win. I’m off to the study.”

This was one time he really wanted to fail. The last thing he wanted was to end up like the monsignor, smelling of laundry soap and incense.

3

Not Quite – But Close “Not another rejection letter,” snarled Renato as he sank into his armchair in the lounge.

“I’m afraid so, pa,” answered Bobby, trying to keep the smile from his face. “They all tell me that they don’t believe that I am suited for the priesthood.”

What Bobby didn’t reveal to his father that failing the interview was a breeze. All he had to let slip was that he rarely went to Church, had little knowledge of the Bible and was in reality being forced to join the priesthood.

“Rubbish. Of course you are suited. More than most.

After all, what do you have to do as a priest. Baptize a few, marry a few and bury a few. In between, read a passage from the Bible and then talk about it. Say a few prayers, which I do all the day anyway.”

“Well. That is their opinion, and they should now because they are experts,” said Bobby.

“They don’t know what they are talking about. Who could talk about sin better than you? You have tried them all with the exception of murder. You are an expert on sin.

What sins have they committed?” asked a now frustrated Renato.

“Perhaps we should give up the idea, pa,” said Bobby.

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“No way,” said Renato. “I’m not finished yet. And stop smirking.”

“I wasn’t smirking, pa. I had something stuck in my teeth,” answered Bobby.

The following day Renato had his once-a-month lunch with his very good friend of long-standing, Ray Benito. Ray and he had arrived in LA together all of those years ago and both had done very well for themselves. Every first Friday of every month, they both took time off to catch up on the news.

“Ray. I have to confess that I am having a lot of problems with Bobby,” said Renato over coffee.

“What kind of problems?” asked Ray. “He is useless. I can’t take him into the company as he has shown no interest in my business at all. He got kicked out of every school and college available so has no educational qualifications. He wouldn’t work in an iron lung. I have been trying to get him into a seminary, but they all say that he wouldn’t even make a priest.”

“Boy. If they won’t accept him then nobody will,” agreed Ray. “Has he applied to all the seminaries?”

“Yes. All that we know of, anyway,” admitted Renato.

“Hmm,” said Ray, thinking. “Have you tried that one in the edge of the city, on the highway to Vegas? I don’t know what it is called, but I noticed it last year when Betty and me decided to drive to Vegas just for the experience. It’s on the left just off the highway. You would have to take the San Anna exit.”

“There’s one there, is there?” asked Renato. “Perhaps I will take a drive out there tomorrow morning and have a word with them before I get him to apply.”

“What have you got to lose except a few hours,” laughed Ray. 25

The following day Renato did take a leisurely drive and found himself parked opposite a large old house in the grounds of which was a newer accommodation block. A signboard in front of the house had SEMINARY in large letters. Below this was a smaller sign that announced it was part of the Order of St. Martian’s. He watched as two young men left the accommodation block and took the path to the big old house then disappeared inside.

Renato got out of the car and looked both ways before he crossed the road. Although the gate was not locked, a large shiny bell-push fixed to the gate post clearly indicated that he should push this rather than proceed to the front door. He held his thumb on it for five seconds, not knowing if it worked or not as he was too far from the house to hear.

He waited for nearly a minute, aware of eyes peering at him from behind net curtains, then a man wearing a long brown gown held at the waist by a cord from which hung a cross hurried down the path towards him.

“Good morning,” said the man upon arrival. “I am Father Stephan. Can I help you?”

“Good morning father,” answered Renato. “My name is Renato Reyes and I have come to see whoever is in charge about the possibility of my son entering this establishment for training.”

“Well,” said Father Stephan. “I am in charge here. Won’t you come to my study and I am sure we can assure you that this will be the right place to put your son.”

He opened and held the gate for Renato to enter, then together they walked up the path to the front door and entered. Renato fund himself in a large hallway of dark timber panelling. The door to the room on his right was open and revealed a man similarly clad to Father Stephan sideways on obviously lecturing to an unseen group. From 26

upstairs there came the faint chanting of prayers. Father Stephan led him down a passage that ran alongside the stairs where he had a small office.

“Please come in and take a seat,” she said to Renato.

Renato entered and took a chair opposite a large desk.

“Now,” commenced Father Stephan. “How can we be of assistance?”

“Well, father,” commenced Renato. “I have a great wish to see my son enter the Church.”

“A wonderful ambition indeed,” agreed Father Stephan.

“But why isn’t it your son who is applying?”

“Well”, continued Renato. “To be really honest, father, my son is not desirous of entering the Church. He doesn’t want to become a priest.”

“In that case, Mr. Renato, you are wasting your time. To be a member of God’s staff requires a total commitment and dedication to His works.”

“Really?” asked a surprised Renato. “Well, my son, sad to say, is a complete wastral. I have told him to either become a priest or I will kick him out of the house and cut him off without a cent.”

“Yes, I see,” said Father Stephan, placing his two hands into a praying position. “But what you do not understand is that he cannot become a priest by attending here at St. Martian’s. Our Order is that of missionaries. Although our brothers carry the honoree title of father, they in fact are not priests and cannot carry out some of the sacred duties of a priest.”

“Well, what can they do?” asked Renato.

“They can lead in prayers, they can preach the word, but they cannot give mass or any of the sacraments,” answered Father Stephen.

“Then where do they work?” asked Renato.

27

“We send our brothers overseas to many places. Africa, the Far East, India, in fact wherever the heathens remain to be shown the light of our Lord,” said Father Stephan.

“Our brothers receive three years training here and then are selected for overseas duties and they go wherever we send them.”

“Overseas?” mused Renato. “It sounds better and better.

Will you take my son?”

“I don’t think he will have the dedication for it,” said Father Stephan.

“Having the choice of this or nothing, he will find it I am sure,” answered Renato.

“But it would be far too difficult for us to teach him all he needs to know if he has no desire to learn,” said Father Stephan. “I’m sorry. The answer is no.”

“Father Stephan,” commenced Renato. “Looking around it appears that you may lack somewhat in funds.

Perhaps a small donation could make it seem worthwhile to train my son and locate him?”

The father leaned back in his chair and eyed Renato.

“Just how small is small, Mr. Reyes?

“Say perhaps $70,000 small,” answered Renato.

“Perhaps $100,000 small could make up for the extra effort that will be required,” said the father.

“Done,” said Renato, withdrawing is checkbook. “Do I make it out to the Order of St. Martian’s by the way?”

“No,” answered the father. “Make it out to R. S. Thorneby and cash. I look after all finances.”

“Fine,” said Renato, writing. “By the way. How did your Order get the name St. Martian’s?”

“It was supposed to be St. Martin’s, but one of our Mexican Brothers was in charge of the name registration and he couldn’t spell, so we have kept it.”

28

“It must appeal to the younger set, the perception that you are spaced out, so to speak,” said Renato, tearing off the check and handing it across the desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Reyes” said the father, folding the check and putting inside his robe. “Perhaps you will bring your son here the day after tomorrow. I will have made the necessary arrangements by then.”

“Good doing business with you father,” said a smiling Renato, standing.

“And you, Mr. Reyes. May God go with you.”

4

A Missionary Is Born That evening, a very unhappy Bobby was informed of his fate and just two days later was dropped off at the seminary of the Order of St. Martian’s. Renato had been informed that no visiting was permitted, but that all students returned home for Thanksgiving and the Christmas holidays. Strict as this rule may have been, Renato appeared to accept it with good grace, if not a smile on his face.

For nearly a year, all appeared to be going well. In fact better than well. Having their only son vacating their nest was not as difficult to bear as the couple had once assumed it would be. In fact, they were deliriously happy with just the company of each other. Even Renato’s doctor expressed amazement at the lower blood pressure recorded during the annual medical check-up. Then disaster loomed upon the horizon. It started with a telephone call from Father Stephen.

“Hello. Yes, this is Reyes speaking. Who’s calling?”

“It’s no good. He has got to go. I am expelling him today.”

“Yes. But who is calling please?”

“Oh! Sorry. This is Father Stephan from the seminary.”

29

“Good morning, father. How is everyone at the seminary? Well I trust?”

“No. It is not all well here. Your son, Brother Roberto has to go. I am expelling him today.”

“Good Lord – if you will pardon the expression. What has he done?”

“Done? Done? He is totally wrecking my lifetime’s work. The only place my missionaries will be suited for is sending to Las Vegas.”

“But what has happened to make you so adamant about him being thrown out today?”

“Look Mr. Reyes. Maybe, just maybe, considering your generosity in the past, I could overlook him bribing the cleaners to bring in bottles of bourbon. Maybe, just maybe, I could overlook the after-lights-out poker school he runs most nights and put it down to youthful oversight. But what I cannot, will not forgive is that yesterday evening while walking to the local church, he persuaded six other brothers to join him on a drunken night out at a night club down town. They never returned until 2.00 am, singing loud, bawdy songs that woke up the neighborhood, who, incidentally, called the police. They were all extensively covered in lipstick and the mayor has ordered an investigation as to just what goes on here. He is out. Out. Out.” “Yes. Well. I can understand as to why you are upset –“ “Upset? I am not just upset, Mr. Reyes. I am furious.

Please come and collect him.”

“Look. Father. I will be over within the hour, but please, do nothing until we have had a chance to talk.”

The telephone was slammed down at the other end, the violence of it made Renato winch. He immediately called in his secretary and had her cancel the rest of his day’s 30

appointments and hurried to his car.

When he arrived and had pushed the bell, it was not Father Stephan who greeted and ushered him in, but another brother who was grinning from ear to ear. He showed him into Father Stephan’s study.

“Good morning, father,” said Renato upon entering.

“You are looking a bit tired. I do hope you are well.”

Father Stephan did not stand up but just waved Renato to the seat.

“Now, Father. Please. Will you reconsider your decision and give him one more chance?” asked Renato.

“Never,” answered the father.

“Well,” said Renato. “Could you send him to complete his training to one of your missions somewhere?”

“Never,” answered the father. “He would totally undo whatever progress any missionary of mine had made. I believe that he is not a messenger of God, but a fifth-column agent of Satan.”

“Surely he could do some good somewhere?” asked a frustrated Renato.

“Mr. Reyes,” said the father, placing both hands clasped upon the desk. “Your son. Brother Roberto. What he appears to know about Christianity could be written on the top of a pinhead with a Parker pen. His knowledge of the teachings within the Holy Bible are equivalent to my own knowledge of what is contained within the Karma Sutra, and you want me to send him to help one of my missionaries?” The father then started to laugh. In fact his laughter increased to a point where Renato felt obliged to lean across the desk and slap his face.

“Sorry about that, father,” said Renato, sitting back on his chair.

A more sober, sad-faced Father Stephan said, “Surely 31

you can see what he is doing to me? I know that God tests us all at some time, and I am failing His test.” The father looked as if he was about to break into tears. They both fell into silence for a while.

Suddenly, as though a light-bulb had flashed above his head as they appear in cartoons, Renato sat up. “Father,” he said. “Do you have any missionaries in the Philippines?”

“As it is a predominantly Catholic country, we have never seen the need,” answered the father.

“Oh, there is a need for sure,” said Renato. “They may be Catholics, but most are not Christians. So why not open a mission in the Philippines and send Bobby to man it?”

“Are you as mad as your son appears to be?” asked a startled father. “It takes three years intensive study to qualify as a missionary from here. Brother Roberto has not completed one year and even that has been less than intensive. No. I will not waste our already restricted funds on such a venture.”

“I am not asking you to finance the mission,” said Renato. “I will provide all funding for that. What I am saying is if I cover all of the costs, would you be prepared to provide Bobby with the official appointment in order that he is legitimately there as a missionary for the Order of St. Martian’s?”

“Even with such a fine offer, I could not sanction that.

Brother Roberto is not, nor ever will be a missionary. He is basically evil. No. It would ruin the Order’s reputation,” answer the father.

“I would be prepared to make a small donation to the seminary,” Renato said quietly.

“Would the small donation be in the order of your original small donation?” asked the father.

“Indeed it would be the same,” affirmed Renato.

32

The father sat back in his chair. What he was being asked to do was morally wrong. It would be stating a lie on paper.

His mission in life given, he believed, by God himself, was to spread the word and convert others to the joys of Jesus.

Brother Bobby would in all probability reverse this process, and it would be his, the father’s fault it happened.

On the other hand, he would not just get rid of Brother Bobby, but to the other side of the world. God would approve of not just telling Satan to get behind him, but banish him to the Third World. What real harm could he do there? And what was more, God probably wanted him, the father, to be rewarded for giving up his life of training missionaries, and to enjoy his retirement. The $100,000 would ensure that God’s will be done.

“I agree,” said the Father, suddenly.

“Excellent,” answered Renato. “I will start making the arrangements now. He will go to San Fernando in La Union.

It is the town in which both my wife and myself grew up and lived until coming to America. I have an old friend there who will arrange the accommodation and everything.

If you will issue the necessary orders and paperwork to Bobby, I will do the rest, but make him believe that he is still a member of the Order of St. Martian’s and that he has to send reports to you but that financing will pass through myself.”

A smiling Renato rose from his chair, shook the hand of the father and turned to go to the door. There was a cough from the father and Renato turned. “Oh, yes,” said Renato and returned to the desk pulling out his checkbook. “Made out to the same name?” he asked.

“If you would be so kind,” said the father.

Once again, Renato, still smiling, made for the door.

“God go with you,” said Father Stephan, and under his 33

breath muttered, “And may God help the poor Filipinos.”

5

A Partner In Crime Is Gained The following weekend, a jubilant Bobby returned home.

Although, once he had heard the financial arrangements for his mission were to be controlled by his father he knew the old man had had something to do with the decision, he fully believed that Father Stephan had recognized his unique talents and promoted him to be a full missionary in less than a year. He proudly showed his certificate to his parents over dinner that night.

After dinner, while his father enjoyed a fine port and Bobby sipped on his usual bourbon and ice, his father went over the details of the arrangements he had made.

“Well,” admitted Bobby. “It will be nice to live in the town where you and mom were born and grew up, but how long do I have to stay there?”

“Three years,” said his father.

“Three years? Are you kidding?” said Bobby, coughing because he was half way taking a sip of bourbon.

“Providing you stay there for three years, then I will allow you to return home and quit the Order,” said his father. “After three years working among the poor of my country, you will have a different attitude and I might then take you into the firm.”

Bobby sat back thinking. Three years might not be so bad. Anyway, there was no choice really. It was not easy being the son of a rich man.

“I have arranged everything through my good friend Jun,” said Renato. “He has arranged a house, vehicle and staff. I will give you $1,000 to travel with. Within one month of arriving, you will provide me with a detailed budget of your financial needs, the veracity of which I will check with 34

Jun, so do not try to pad it.”

Bobby was to fly on the Thursday morning on a flight direct to Manila. On the Monday morning, he telephoned his old friend Louie Nazareno.

“Hi, Louie. It’s me. Bobby.”

“Bobby? Bobby Reyes?”

“Yup.” “Christ. I thought you were dead. The last time I saw you was on the night of the party. Then you just disappeared.”

“Nope. Still here. Alive and kicking. What are you up to these days?”

“Just hanging around, as usual. Are you coming to town today. The other guys would sure be glad to see you.”

“No. I’m not allowed and I have a lot to do. Say, why don’t you come away with me for a couple of weeks?”

“I’d love to, Bobby. But in the mood they are in, I doubt if the oldies would let me have the money. Where are you going, anyway?”

“The Philippines.”

“The Philippines? No shit. Hey, that could make a difference. The oldies have been on at me for a couple of years that I should visit the old country and meet my cousins and other crap. The way they go on about it I wonder why they ever left. They might agree to me going with you there though. I could ask them and get back to you.”

“Yeah. Do that. It would be great if you could come because at least I will know someone. If they agree then you will have to get your ticket for Thursday’s flight on Northwest, direct to Manila.”

“Hey. I’m excited. It would be great to have a couple of weeks away from here. I’ll get back to you. Take care now.”

Louie’s parents did not just agree, but were enthusiastic about the venture. They too were sick and tired of having 35

a lay-about for a son and felt if he could see how they had lived before the American dream, he just might appreciate the life he had. Bobby forgot to tell his parents that Louie would be accompanying him for the first two weeks. He had said that he preferred to take his leave of them at the house and for them not to accompany him to the airport.

His father arranged for the company car to take him. He had arranged with Louie to meet prior to check-in in order that they got seats together, economy class of course.

“Hey, Bobby,” a voice shouted. Bobby looked around and Louie came towards him as fast as the wheeled bag he towed allowed. They hugged each other. Louie was the same height and age as Bobby, but he was dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and fawn slacks.

“You’re looking good, babe,” said Louie, standing back.

“That’s more than I can say for you,” said Bobby. “We’re going to Manila not Maui.”

“Well. It’s in the tropics, isn’t it?” stated Louie, looking down at his shirt. “Anyway. Tell me where you have been hiding and what you have been up to.”

“I’ll tell you on the plane,” said Bobby. “Let’s check in first.”

The line for checking in was very long. In front of them were many Filipinos who appeared to not be just returning to the Philippines for a visit, but actually moving house, and by air. Box upon box piled onto trolleys. This took checking in very long as each tried to negotiate the charges for excess weight. Eventually they were stood at the desk, passing over their passports and tickets. Time was getting on. They still had to get through Immigration and the boarding time was fast approaching. The nice young lady behind the desk performed her duty very well. As she passed the boarding passes to them, she said, ”I’ve given you seats right behind 36

the balustrade, father, so you wont be inconvenienced by a tilting seat I front of you.”

“Thank you,” said Bobby.

As he turned to leave the desk, he saw Louie staring at him. “Father?” he said. “She said father. Was she talking to you?”

“She was actually,” said Bobby, already hurrying to the Immigration desks.

“Wait up here,” said Louie. “Father. Are you a father?”

“Many times,” joked Bobby, hoping to avoid having to inform Louie of the circumstances in such a public area.

“You mean you are a priest?” asked an astounded Louie.

“Not a real priest. A Brother. A missionary,” admitted Bobby.

“Jesus H. Christ,” exclaimed Louie and then started laughing, bending over at the waste. “Jesus H. Christ. Bobby Reyes. A priest.”

“Shh!” demanded Bobby. “I’ll explain it all once we are on board, which, unless you stop pissing yourself and hurry, we will not be today.”

“Okay, father,” said Louie, again creasing up with laughter.

By stopping at the Duty Free shop and purchasing two bottles of Old Kentucky each, they just made the final call for boarding. They settled back for the take off and waited for the drinks trolley to provide the first of the day, and then leaned their seats back to a more comfortable position.

Bobby then slowly went over all that had happened since the party, right up to the present. With great restraint, Louie did not interrupt, fascinated with the whole thing. When Bobby had finished, lunch was served which meant silence while they ate. After the trays had been cleared away, Louie started to pepper Bobby with questions.

37

“So. Have you really gone holy?” he asked.

“Not really. I had no choice. Either do what pa wanted or get kicked out with nothing. I know he meant it. What would you have done?”

“Same as you, I guess. But, I mean, what do you know about religion and the Bible, except what the old monsignor drones on about in church” “Not a lot, really. They tried to teach me, of course, but is was really boring stuff.”

“So how do you hope to pull off this missionary bit? I mean, someone is going to spring you, surely?”

“That’s why I wanted someone like you along for a while. Just to be there and help me, you know?”

“Yeah. Sure. But how can I be of much help if I know less than you do?”

“Just by being there, really. I will be honest. I am a bit scared.”

“I don’t blame you. What have I got to do? Ring the bell?

“No. I am not a real priest, ordained and all that, so I cannot give mass. I can’t even baptize, marry or bury.”

“So what can you do?”

“Preach the word and help people.”

“Sounds easy enough. What do you live on? Do they pay you for this bullshit?”

“No. There is no wage. My father is going to help, but that will not be much. I am supposed to get the local community to support me. You know, collection money, donations, that sort of thing.”

“Boy. You might well starve to death. Never mind. I will be with you for the next two weeks. I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Boy oh boy.” He started laughing again. “We should have bought some rouge at the duty free.”

38

“What for?” asked Bobby.

“To put on your nose. Every priest I know has a red nose.” He started laughing again, but there were some mutterings from others who wanted to watch the movie that had just started in the cabin.

For the rest of the very long journey, they drank a little, ate a little and slept a lot. They were not asleep, but daydreaming in that trance-like state that affects all people who have been living in an aluminium tube at 35,000 feet for eighteen hours. A tinny voice announced in both English and Filipino that the aircraft was approaching Manila and to prepare for landing. Bobby, who was close to the window, looked down through the haze at Manila Bay and his home for the next three years. His stomach sank. As the plane got lower he could see the roofs of shacks crammed together beneath him. There was a bump as the wheels touched down, and then the plane seemed to take forever to taxi to the terminal. There was much bustle and pushing as passengers retrieved the bags from the overhead lockers.

All appeared very anxious to leave the aircraft and get on with their lives. Perhaps Bobby and Louie were the only two natural-born Filipinos on board that were not excited. This was the land of their birth, but definitely not home.

Bobby had been warned to not state at the immigration desk that he intended to stay for three years, as this would have given him a problem. It was best to state he was there on holiday for three weeks. His visa would be extended once he was in the country. Louie did not have to be told this because he genuinely believed he would be there for only a fortnight.

After they had retrieved their bags, they discovered that the Custom inspection was virtually non-existent.

They could have brought more bourbon. Pushing their 39

trolleys, they exited into the oven-like heat of Manila. The noise was terrifying. Cars taxis were all using their horns.

People were shouting and pushing. One young man tried to grab their bags, shouting to them that they needed a taxi.

After such a long flight, they felt very confused. This was definitely not the good old USA. Bobby glanced anxiously around and spotted a well-dressed young man with a white coat holding a sign that had his name written upon it. He waved, and the man approached. “Father Reyes?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Bobby, ignoring the guffaw that escaped the mouth of Louie. “Manila Peninsula Hotel, sir,” he said. “If you will wait here, I will fetch the car.”

“Boy,” stated Louie. “That’s service.”

They waited and soon an old but fully refurbished Packard draw up by them, the same man hopped out from the driving seat and opened the trunk, then came to collect their bags. “If you would care to sit inside, sir, you will find it is cooler.”

Louie was fascinated with the car. Inside it had new leather upholstery. “Boy,” he said. “This baby would be worth a fortune back home.”

The driver, having finished loading their bags got back into the driving seat and with much honking of his horn, pulled away into the traffic. While Louie engaged the driver in a conversation about the car, Bobby looked out of the windows at the passing scenery. He was not impressed with what he saw. Dank old buildings and shops were both sides of the traffic-filled road. Piles of garbage appeared everywhere.

Eventually they turned onto a major road where although four lanes were clearly indicated, five lanes of actual traffic drove at a fast pace. The car went up and over and overpass, and the scenery suddenly changed. Although the road itself was lined with high walls, Bobby could see that these 40

walls hid houses of a substantial nature. As they proceeded further, they went through an underpass. The middle of the highway contained a modern rail system. Then as they came out of an underpass, they could have been back in America.

They were in Makati where the contrast to the dwellings close to the airport could not have been more. Here was a modern city complete with high-rise buildings and a huge shopping mall. The vehicles around them were in the main quite new. Each with a professional, uniformed driver. They came down Ayala Avenue and passed around the corner that was effectively the back of their hotel, driving around it to a quieter back street where its imposing entrance faced.

“Just proceed to reception, sir. Straight ahead through the lobby. I will see to the bags,” the driver stated.

They both entered the welcome coolness of the hotel.

Although not new, its lobby was magnificent. On both sides of the carpet that led to the reception, many tables were set at which mainly men sat taking coffee and apparently having business meetings. This area was attached rather than inside the main hotel, allowing the ceiling to be three floors above them. Looking up, they noticed a sparrow fly across to another ledge.

Bobby went first to the reception desk. The booking had already been arranged and as the receptionist handed him his electronic tab that nowadays served as a key, she said, “Although your booking was for a standard room, Father Reyes, we have upgraded you to the Executive floor. On this floor you will find there is a clubroom in which we serve complimentary drinks and snacks all day up to nine in the evening. You will also be able to have a complimentary breakfast buffet there in the morning. She turned to Louie.

“Mr. Nazareno?”

“Yeah,” said Louie. “I’m with him. I mean I am with the 41

father.”

“Oh. I had you on a different floor,” she answered.

“Mr. Nazareno is my private secretary,” explained Bobby.

“Oh, I see. Just a minute,” she checked her computer.

“Yes, Mr. Nazareno, I can fit you in on the same floor.” She dabbled more at the computer, then reached and handed an electronic tab to Louie. “Enjoy your stay,” she smiled.

Waiting behind them were two bell boys, who took the tabs from their hands and picked up the bags. “Will you follow us, sir?” they asked, and set off for the elevators.

Behind them, “Did you see that chick. Wow! That is some good looking woman,” whispered Louie.

“I could see you liked her,” whispered Bobby. “I saw your trousers move.”

Although not next door to each other, the two rooms they had been given were only a few doors apart. Before disappearing the two stopped to plan. “Do you want to have a sleep?” asked Bobby.

“No. We are out of time synch,” answered Louie. “I would sooner keep going until the normal bedtime in this country.”

“Me too,” admitted Bobby. “Let’s have a shower and meet in the club room. We’ll take it from there.”

“Agreed,” said Louie. “See you in about thirty minutes.”

“And Louie,” said Bobby.

“Yeah?” answered Louie, stopping just short of his room.

“Change that shirt for something less bright,” said Bobby. Louie just grinned, waved his hand and disappeared through the door of his room.

6

Sampling The Night In Manila 42

The shower seemed to work wonders. Travel weariness went with the water, down the drain. Bobby was surprised to see a more conservatively dressed Louise already waiting for him in the club room with a bourbon on the rocks in his hand. “Boy,” said Louise upon seeing him.

“Did I need this heart-starter.” He drained his glass and held his fingers up to the waiter to signal for him to bring two more. The waiter appeared to already have summed up Louie’s needs and had the bottle in his hand. The two drinks were swiftly delivered.

“Well,” said Bobby. “We’re here. Here’s to us in the Philippines.”

“You bet,” said Louie, also raising his glass to the toast.

The sipped away, both lost in their own thoughts.

“What’s the time?” asked Bobby.

“You know something?” replied Louise. “I haven’t got a clue. Waiter. Could you tell me the time, please?”

The waiter looked at his watch. “It is nearly six o’clock, sir.”

“Thanks,” said Louise, adjusting his watch. Bobby had to remove his to do likewise. “That means another couple of drinks, which are free, and then we can go out and see if there is any action in this town,” said Louse. “Hold on.” He stood up and went to the waiter who had been serving two other guests who had just arrived in the room.

He quietly spoke to him for a few minutes, and the waiter wrote something down. He then returned.

“The waiter has told me that there is plenty of action all over Manila, but the closest place to here is called Burgos Street. Apparently, there are bars with girls and also restaurants. He has written it down so I can show the taxi driver. I reckon we go there and eat then visit a few of the 43

bars after. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me. Let us relax here until seven, then we will go.”

At seven, they took the elevator down to the lobby and went out the front doors. “Taxi, sir?” asked the doorman.

“Please,” answered Bobby. The doorman waved and a white taxi pulled in. The doorman noted the taxi number and handed the sheet to Bobby. “That is in case you have trouble with the taxi, sir. If you were held up and robbed then we know whose taxi it was,” answered the doorman. “Does the taxi driver know you are giving us this piece of written information?” asked Louie. “Of course, sir,” answered the doorman.

“Then, if he wants to rob us, surely he will not just take our money, but this piece of paper as well?” asked Louie. The doorman suddenly had lost his ability to speak English, so Louie, with a shrug, got in to the seat near the driver. “Here you are, buddy,” he said, handing the paper to the driver. “You can have this now, but just be gentle with me.”

The sour taxi driver said nothing. Then, “Where to?” Louise handed him the piece of paper. His thinking was correct. He had been waiting nearly forty minutes for a trip and here was one that would only take about three minutes and end up P35 on the clock. He didn’t dare protest and refuse the ride because he had waited years to obtain Peninsula Hotel permission serve their guests. There was one saving grace, however. If these two didn’t know where P. Burgos Street was, then they were indeed strangers even if they looked Filipino. He grunted and started the meter.

As he came out of the hotel he could only go one way, and that was fortunately, away from P. Burgos Street. Instead of following the perimeter of the hotel to face the right 44

direction, he happily set off down Ayala Avenue then turned left to bring him into the maze of streets within the Central Business District. There the one-way systems would ensure he put many kilometers on the clock before he was headed in the right direction. He was careful to select a route from which no further view of the Peninsula Hotel would be available. Thirty minutes later, he turned into the famed strip, stopped and discharged his customers with an P85 peso fare with the P15 peso tip.

Darkness, as it does in the tropics, had descended rapidly. From where they stood on the sidewalk, P. Burgos did indeed appear active. Neon signs of many colors glowed invitingly on both sides of the road. They crossed the road and went into a bar called Bottoms. A curtain hung over the entrance. They pulled it aside, were welcomed by a tubby Filipina and the music hit them. Through the darkened room they could see a well-lit stage on which eight girls in small bikinis were languidly moving in an imitation of dance. “Smoking or non-smoking?” asked the chubby mamasan. “Non-smoking,” answered Louie, so she led them through the tables to a place near the stage. They sat down and a waiter appeared. “Drinks?” he asked. “Two bourbon on the rocks,” instructed Louise. “Local or imported?” the waiter asked. “Imported of course,” snapped Louise. “Only the USA produces good bourbon.” The waiter smiled and left. Just as he turned away, Louise shouted over the music, “Hey. Can you bring a bit more ice?” The waiter nodded and went on his way.

A young girl in a bikini approached Louise. “Hey,” she said. “I thought you were a Filipino, but you are a yank.”

Without being asked, she sat down. Another girl joined the table. “We all thought you were Filipino,” she explained.

“We are,” said Bobby. “We were born here.”

45

“Yes. Maybe,” she shouted. “But not a real Filipino. You are Fil-Am, yes?”

“What the hell is a Fil-Am?” asked Bobby.

“Well, you born to Filipino parents but American,” carried on the girl. “You are like a Filipino but you are rich.

I’m Gloria by the way and she is Sugar.”

“Sugar? Jesus,” commented Louise.

“See, Filipinos don’t buy ladies drinks, so we don’t like to sit with them. But you are American and Americans buy drinks. You buy us a drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Louie.

“Hey, wait up a minute,” said Bobby. “How much is a drink for you?”

“Just P280,” she said.

“How much is that?” asked Louise to Bobby.

“About five bucks,” answered Bobby.

“Well, okay,” said Louie. “A drink for you and one for Sugar.”

The girls waived the waiter and suddenly, as though burley had been thrown into the water about another six girls crowded around the table. “You buy my friends a drink too?” asked Sugar.

“Christ. She speaks,” said Louie. “No, I am not going to buy everyone here a drink. Okay?”

Suddenly, the girls all appeared to be holding a drink.

Two of them had sat on the laps of the boys. “I think we are being shafted,” said Bobby.

“Ah, who the shit cares,” answered Louie as he fondled the breast of the one on his lap.

“You like my sous-sous?” she asked, and lifted her top to expose two small, but pert breasts, each sporting a small brown aurora.

“Shit,” said Louie. “Anything you can’t get in your 46

mouth is wasted.” He put his mouth over one of the breasts and sucked, while the girl laughed.

Meanwhile, Bobby felt a small hand start to fondle his penis, and he was getting embarrassed about what was happening to it. The mamasan appeared at his side. “You want to take her out with you. Only P2,200 but you pay her if she stays the night with you. Okay?’

“No, not yet,” said Bobby, pushing the girls hand from his crotch. “We are going out to have dinner in a minute, but we will be back later.”

“Make sure you return,” said the smiling mamasan.

“Sugar will be waiting for you.”

“How old are you Sugar?” asked Louie across the table.

“Nineteen,” she replied immediately.

“So in what year were you born?” asked Louie.

“Uhh! Wait,” answered Sugar, trying to carry out a rapid deduction of nineteen to discover the year of her birth, but finding that she had only been gifted with ten digits.

“I thought so,” said Louie. “As sexy as they are, Bobby, they are all jail bait. Not one of them is eighteen.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby. “We had better be careful. I can see the headlines now. Let’s go and eat.”

They called for the bill, which, because they had only had one drink each, appeared to be quite high. Then they left, asking the doorman to best place to eat. He directed them to a cross street and told them to walk along it until they reached the Danish Connection. No, he assured them, it was a restaurant, not a girlie bar.

The restaurant itself was clean and pleasant. The menu was interesting and very European. They selected their meal and decided to have red wine with it. When they had finished, Louise sat back and said, “I think I will have a coffee. For some reason I am feeling a bit pissed.”

47

“It’s the wine,” said Bobby. “Remember the old saying, ‘never mix grain and grape’.”

“What the hell does that mean? Asked Louie.

“Well, bourbon is made out of grain and wine is made out of grape. If you drink one and then the other, it can have a dramatic effect.”

“Great,” answered Louie. “When the old man cuts my allowance again I shall remember that.”

They didn’t return to the first bar, but tried many others until, looking at his watch, Bobby was surprised that the time was after two in the morning. The strip though was still going strong.

“Are we going to take a chick back with us?” asked Louie.

“They all look a bit young to me,” said Bobby.

“That last bar was better. They did appear at least nineteen.”

“Buddy. I have so much to drink that I would have a job to raise a smile, let alone my pecker. I think I will give it a miss. We have to catch a bus at ten,” said Bobby, yawning.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” agreed Louie. “But before I go home you have got to promise me that we spend two nights around here and have ourselves an orgy.”

“You’ve got a date on that, buddy,” answered Bobby.

“Let’s get a cab back to the hotel.”

A passing cab stopped and they were totally surprised to reach the hotel in less than two minutes. “The son-of-abitch,” said Louie, referring to the original taxi driver as he paid a fifty peso bill to a delighted driver.

7

Hallo San Fernando It took many rings from the wake-up service to rouse both of them the following morning at eight. After a quick 48

shower, they met in the club room for a quick, but light breakfast with lots of coffee. “Where are we going?” asked Louie.

“We have to take a cab to the Victory Liner bus station, and then get a bus to San Fernando, La Union, way up north,” answered Bobbie.

“God. I need more sleep,” commented Louise.

“So do I,” answered Bobby. “But as the trip takes at least six hours, we will have plenty of time for that.”

After an interminable journey through the heavy traffic that filled the air with diesel fumes, mainly caused by kamakazi jeepneys, they were deposited at the bus station.

As appeared usual anywhere in this city, chaos reigned, with people all over the place and nobody designated to assist travellers. Bobby eventually found the right window and purchased two tickets and was directed to the appropriate bus. There, the bags were stowed away in the luggage compartment beneath the bus, and they climbed on and found their allocated seats. They both sank down with relief, heads throbbing and throats parched. Relief came in the way of a vendor coming onto the bus to sell bottles of chilled water.

The bus quickly filled and it moved off. Slowly, ever slowly, it edged along in the traffic. Back past Makati where they had been staying, then onto Ortigas, another American-looking development, but after that it was back to shoddy, grotty and dirty buildings. They were always alongside or under the railway until they passed North EDSA mall, its terminal. After that a progression of shabby business establishments and buses, buses and more buses.

“I thought this place was totally destroyed in the war?” asked Louie.

“It was,” agreed Bobby.

49

“Then why did they reconstruct it like this?” asked Louie. It was a question that had no answer.

Over an hour and a half had passed before they left the outskirts of the city and they were on the North Luzon Expressway. The countryside was far from scenic, however, so they settled back in their seats and dozed. A video movie was showing from a screen near the front, but they were seated so far back as to require binoculars to see it. They could hear it, however, as the speakers were set just above their head. At the volume it was set, even the deaf could have heard the movie. In spite of all this, they both dozed.

Occasionally, Bobby would hear a curse from Louie. “What’s the matter?” he inquired.

“It’s these goddamn seats that is the matter,” answered Louie. “They are covered in clear plastic and slippery. The jolting of the bus makes your ass slip forward bit by bit until you fall off the front.” What he said was true. It was impossible to keep still unless sat perfectly up right. On and on the journey went.

At Tarlac, the bus pulled in to a rest stop where they could relieve themselves and purchase refreshments. Louie found they sold canned beer so he purchased two. Within ten minutes though, he wished he had bought half a dozen, as the taste of one demanded more.

The afternoon wore on. The scenery had improved the further they journeyed north. They had passed through small towns where the road was crowded with motorbikes with sidecars that served as the local taxi service. They buzzed about like mosquitoes, causing many traffic jams.

Just before the end of their journey, they passed close enough to the coast so that had a view of the China Sea. “Not exactly Malibu,” was the only comment of Louie.

Eventually, the bus pulled into the square of San 50

Fernando. They disembarked and stood waiting for their bags to be unloaded. A short tubby man approached them.

He stared at one and then the other. “I am seeking Father Roberto Reyes,” he said.

“I am Bobby Reyes,” said Bobby. The man came forward to him with his arms open and a big smile on his face.

“Roberto,” he said. “You won’t remember me. I am Jun Lamorena, an old friend of your father. Let me look at you.” He took a pace back. “So big,” he said. “Just like your father at your age. You go away as a baby, a baby I cradled in my arms and now you return to us, grown up and as a missionary.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Bobby. “This is my private secretary who is staying to help me settle in, Louie Nazarino.”

“Mr. Nazarino. Welcome to San Fernando,” said Julias.

“You look Filipino. Do you also come from around these parts?”

“My parents come from Laog although I have never been there,” answered Louie. “I am hoping to go there this trip and look up some relatives.”

“Then you are one of us,” said a delighted Jun. “You too are Ilocano. Do you speak the language?”

“I’m afraid not,” admitted Louie.

“You will pick it up easy enough,” said Jun. “It is in your blood. Now, I have a car waiting. Let me fetch the boy to carry your bags.” He turned and waved and through the bustling crowd a dishevelled youth appeared. Jun rattled off the instructions and he picked up all of the bags, balancing one on his head, and with little apparent effort.

They followed Jun through the crowd and around a corner. The boy was packing the luggage into the trunk of an old, white Toyota Crown of at least fifteen years vintage.

“This is the car I have bought for you,” explained Jun. “Your 51

father instructed that it would not be good for a missionary to ride about in a new car. Although this car is old I have had it checked out and it is mechanically sound.”

“It’s body has sure passed the use-by date,” whispered Louie to Bobby.

“Well, you have done a good job, Uncle Jun,” said Bobby.

“Nobody would expect me to have any money while I ride around in this.”

Missing the sarcasm, Jun beamed. “Thank you,” he replied.

They piled in, with Jun in the front and the two visitors in the back. Blowing a cloud of smoke, they were off.

“The house I have leased for you is not far. It is on the southern edge of town. Five minutes perhaps.”

It took about six minutes, but they swerved off the main road into the gravel driveway of what appeared to be a large two-story house. Opposite it was a wide grass and treed strip then a beach. The wind blew a welcome cooling breeze as they got out of the car. Without them knocking, the front door opened and a dumpy woman of late middle age emerged.

“Ah!” exclaimed Jun. “Your live-in housekeeper, Mrs. Cruz. Mrs. Cruz is a widow and a very religious woman, but an excellent cook. Hello Mrs. Cruz, let me introduce you to Father Roberto Reyes and his private secretary, Mr. Louie Nazareno.”

Mrs. Cruz came forward and took the hand while bowing her head slightly to each man, then said, “I wasn’t expecting a guest. I will make up one of the guest bedrooms.”

Without further ado, she went back inside the house.

“Now, come in. Come in,” said Jun. “Let me show you around.” Jun gave them a full tour. There was a large lounge, with an arch through to the dining room. A smaller room 52

had been prepared as a study and the room next door converted into a chapel complete with alter table, crucifix and candle holders in which burned two tall candles. The kitchen was very large, “Mrs. Cruz territory,” they were warned. They did not enter Mrs. Cruz bedroom, which was also on the ground floor.

Upstairs there were six bedrooms altogether. Bobby’s was obvious. It was large and had an adjoining bathroom.

The bedroom selected for Louie was obvious, as Mrs. Cruz was still busy making up the single bed, but he would have to use the common bathroom. The other rooms were furnished, albeit sparsely.

Off of the lounge was a wide verandah that fronted a large back garden that was mainly lawn, but did have one large tree to provide shade.

They all sat at the table on the verandah. Mrs. Cruz reappeared and offered them Coca-Cola. This was served with a bucket of ice.

“I have done all as your father instructed. The furniture is second hand but quality. I am pleased to tell you that the candle-sticks were a bargain as they gave me two dozen candles for nothing to go with them.” Jun’s eyes glowed. “In the chapel there is a New World Bible which is written in modern English. Your father tells me you are progressive and prefer this version.”

“Oh, yes, Uncle Jun. I much prefer that version,” agreed Bobby.

“Now,” said Jun, standing up. “I am going to leave you because you have had a long journey and will probably want to retire early. Mrs. Cruz will cook your dinner, so you have nothing to worry about. I will return in the morning when we have an appointment with Father Puigi, our local priest.

Don’t underestimate his importance in your work. He has 53

a great deal of influence around here. I will telephone you before I come. Good day to you both. I will see myself out.”

He turned and left them.

“Hey, Bobby,” said Louie. “Why don’t you find the kitchen, bring some more coke and ice while I go upstairs and retrieve a bottle of bourbon from my bags.”

“That,” said Bobby rising, “is an excellent idea. The hair of the dog is what we both need.”

A few minutes later, with tumblers filled with bourbon and coke, they both relaxed as the evening sun departed. In order that Mrs. Cruz would not be upset, Louie had place the bottle out of sight below the table. At about 6.30 Mrs. Cruz appeared on the verandah.

“If it is agreeable to you, father,” she said. “I will put your dinner on the table soon, because I retire at seven.”

“No problem, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby. “What have we got for dinner, by the way?”

“I have prepared Dinuguan,” she said. “I hope you will enjoy it.”

“I am sure we will,” answered Bobby. “What exactly is Dinuguan?”

“It is a speciality of mine,” she answered. “It is made using fresh pig’s blood.”

“Sounds delightful,” commented Louie.

“Wonderful, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby.

“Just leave the dishes on the table,” she said. “I will clear them up before I go to mass in the morning.”

“Fine, Mrs. Cruz,” answered Bobby with a dismissal wave of his hand. ”By the way sir,” she said. “Would you be wanting breakfast before I go to mass or after I return?”

“What time is mass?” asked Bobby.

“Six-thirty, sir,” she answered.

54

Louie coughed. “Well, Mrs. Cruz,” answered Bobby.

“We have been travelling for nearly two days and quite frankly, we have a great deal of sleep to catch up on. So for tomorrow at least, I don’t think we will leave breakfast until nine.”

“Very well, sir,” said Mrs. Cruz. “I will wish you good night.”

“Good night, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby.

“Nighty night, Mrs. Cruz,” echoed Louie.

The lady withdrew and they both let out a sigh. Louie reached below the table and poured a triple shot into each glass. “Pig’s blood for dinner,” he mused.

Once the remainder of bourbon in the bottle had been transferred to their glasses they carried both the glasses and the empty bottle to the dining room. A large, dark-colored timber table able to seat eight had been laid with a place at each end. In the middle was two tureens complete with lids and a bowl of fresh fruit. Bobby sat in one of the chairs while Louie went to to his end of the table and sat at the place set for him.

“Nice,” he observed. “One problem though. We need arms that are eight feet long to be able to reach the food and a telephone in order to talk.”

“It does appear to be a bit pretentious,” giggled a slightly drunken Bobby. “Perhaps my first job should be to hire a butler.”

“You could save a lot of money by just bringing your table mat, plate and eating irons up to this end of the table,” observed Louie.

“Hey,” said Bobby, in mock sobriety. “May I remind you that you are just the secretary. Me big priest. You bring your stuff down this end.”

“Sorry, boss,” said Louie, standing and placing his 55

hands in a praying position, bowed. “But while I’m at it boss, you move your fat arse and shove the food to where we can reach it.”

“Agreed,” hiccupped Bobby, rising. The transformation was complete. As Louie sat down he said, ”Does that Mrs. Cruz think we are both liable to commit suicide?”

“Why do you say that?” asked Bobby.

“There are no knives to go with our forks, only a spoon and fork.”

“Perhaps pig’s blood doesn’t require a sharp knife,” said Bobby.

“Christ, I had forgotten about that,” said Louie. “Lift the lids and let’s have a look.”

Bobby lifted the lids of both tureens. One contained boiled rice, but not in a manner they were used to in Chinese restaurants at home where each grain was separate.

This was one molded mass. The other contained a rapidly congealing black porridge.

“Want to try it?” asked Bobby.

“Jesus H. Christ,” exclaimed Louie. “That looks disgusting. You can have it. Me, I’ll have some rice and put mango slices over it.”

He proceeded to dig his spoon into the rice and put chunks on his plate. He then reached for one of the ripe mangoes from the plate and peeled it. Because there was no knife, he used his spoon to separate chunks of the mango flesh and let them fall onto the rice. Bobby, in a drunken haze, continued to sip his drink and watch him. Then he did the same.

“Jesus. The rice is cold,” observed Louie. “I sure as hell hope that there is a burger joint in this town, otherwise we will starve to death.”

They ate their unappetizing meal in silence. After, 56

Bobby said, ”Louie. Spoon some of that pig’s blood onto your plate.”

“What the hell for?” asked Louie.

“I’ll do the same then we will take it out into the garden and throw it somewhere,” answered Bobby. “We don’t want old Mrs. Cruz to think we don’t appreciate her efforts.”

“Smart thinking oh Holy one,” said Louie, reaching for the dish.

Once they had carried out their mission, accompanied by much giggling, they climbed the stairs and went to bed for the night.

8

A New Experience Bobby awoke and felt totally refreshed but realizing that he was in, or rather on, a strange bed. Above him a ceiling fan slowly revolved pushing air gently down over him, He was naked, except for his boxer shorts. He looked at his watch and was surprised to discover that it was only 7:15 in the morning. The room was bright because he had neglected to draw the curtains. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor. What had woken him was a demand from his body to relieve himself urgently. He moved into the bathroom and stood urinating into the bowl, smiling to himself as he reflected just how much the liquid was worth when it went in and how valueless it was on exiting.

He returned to his room and noticed that two bottle of bourbon were side by side on the old-fashioned dressing table. “So,” he thought. “Mrs. Cruz has unpacked my bags.

We needn’t have worried about how to dispose of the empty bottle after all.”

Now the problem was to find his clothes. He opened the top drawer of the set and discovered his underclothing.

He then checked the contents of the other drawers, noting 57

what held what. After he opened the doors of a tallboy and found his trousers, shirts and jackets already on hangers.

He selected a short-sleeved shirt and slacks and lay them ready onto the bed. He then took a pair of boxer shorts into the bathroom. Towels had been provided.

There was an old enamelled bathtub with a brass shower head over. The enamel was very stained from previous years usage. Removing his shorts, he stepped into the tub and turned on both taps. Stinging cold water hit him, so he stepped back out of its range, leaving a hand in the spray to check its temperature. It didn’t change from cold.

Risking the spray, he leaned forward and turned off one of the faucets. The water remained cold. Logic therefore said that the faucet he had turned off had to be the hot water.

He leaned forward again, and turned off the water, then opened the second faucet. The water ran, but still cold. He had to give up, and quickly shower under the cold water. He would ask Uncle Jun to have it fixed later.

Feeling refreshed, he left his room and banged the door before opening it of Louie’s room. He entered. Louie, also dressed only in boxer shorts of luminous pink, was sprawled across the bed. Bobby shook him. “Hey, you lazy son-of-abitch,” he said. “Are you going to sleep all day?”

Louie opened his eyes. “What time is it?” he asked. “ “Past eleven,” said Bobby.

“Christ,” said Louie, springing off the bed. He then looked at his own watch before holding it to his ear. He looked again. “Mine says it is only 7:35,” he said. “It must have stopped and then started again.”

“No,” said Bobby laughing. “It is telling the correct time, but the rule in this house is when Father Bobby rises, all rise.”

“Does that include erections?” quipped Louie.

58

“No,” said Bobby. “Definitely not. Take a shower. I’ll go and see if I can rustle up some coffee.”

As he descended the stairs, he saw a note propped against the knob of the banister at the bottom. It informed him that coffee was available in the kitchen. There he was pleased to see that a large drip-type coffee maker had been operating and a large flask of coffee was ready. From the silence, it was obvious that Mrs. Cruz had yet to return from mass.

On the bench was a tray complete with two coffee mugs, a bowl of sugar and a jug containing milk. Bobby lifted the flask from the warming plate and placed it on the tray. He then carried it onto the cool verandah, the place of their previous nights drinking spree. He sat and poured himself a mug full of the hot coffee, then relaxed and sipped from it. It was very bitter, but Bobby liked it that way anyway. He sat sipping and staring into the garden, now lit by the light of the sun. Strange birds flew into and from the large tree.

He wondered if any of them had enjoyed the pig’s blood dish deposited out there on the previous night. His reverie was disturbed by the arrival of Louie. “Here you are. I have been looking for you.” He sat and reached for the coffee pot.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he said. “That bathroom doesn’t have any hot water, only cold.”

“Mine too,” said Bobby. “And please, Louie. Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” said Louie spooning sugar into his coffee.

“Jesus H. Christ,” said Bobby. “Your are supposed to be the secretary of a missionary. I think people may misunderstand, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” answered Louie. “You know I don’t mean anything by it.” Then they looked at each other and laughed. “I guess you are right. I had better watch my 59

language.” He reached for the sugar bowl again. “Jesus – I mean Jesus be blessed, but this coffee is very bitter,” he said.

“What’s happening today?”

“I have to meet the parish priest,” said Bobby. “You had better come too.”

“Me? Meet the priest?” answered Louie. “In a pig’s arse.”

“Seriously Louie,” said Bobby. “I would feel a lot better if you are there, as long as you don’t swear that is.”

“Okay. Okay,” said Louise, refilling is mug. “I’ll come along. It should be fun, I don’t think.”

“By the way,” asked Bobby. “In our tour of this house yesterday, did you notice a computer anywhere?”

Louie took a few seconds to think. “No,” he answered.

“If it’s here, then I didn’t see it. Perhaps your Uncle Jun couldn’t find one as old as the furniture.”

“I wonder if they have Internet in the town? I will need a computer to communicate with pa especially for money,” mused Bobby.

“I hope so because I have forgotten how to use a pen,” commented Louie. The silence was broken by the ringing of a telephone from somewhere in the house.

“Mrs. Cruz is not back yet,” commented Bobby. “Where is the telephone?”

“I am not sure,” answered Louie. “Why not just follow the noise and you’ll find it.”

“How about you?” asked Bobby. “You’re supposed to be my secretary. Wouldn’t you be the one to usually answer the telephone.” Louie rose from his chair. “Bobby,” he said.

“I just might quit this job.” Then he turned and entered the house. After a few more rings, it stopped. Either the caller had given up or Louie had located the instrument. He appeared at the door from the lounge. “It’s for you,” he said, sitting down.

60

“Great. First, who is calling me and second where is the damn telephone?” asked Bobby.

“Hey. Watch your language, father,” said Louie. “It is your Uncle Jun and the telephone is in your study.”

Bobby got out of his chair and hurried through the lounge, entering first the chapel, and then realizing his mistake, into his study. He picked up the telephone and spoke to his Uncle Jun, then returned to the verandah.

“What did he want?” asked Louie.

“Well,” the meeting with the priest has been postponed and we are to have lunch with him instead.

“Wonderful,” commented Louie. “What will that consist of? Dog’s balls?”

“Uncle Jun suggests that when the houseboy arrives, we get him to drive us around the area so we get a feel for it. His name is Jamie. Uncle Jun says he is not the brightest, but he knows this area like the back of his hand and he is anxious to please.”

Just then Mrs. Cruz came onto the verandah. “Ah, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby. “You have retuned.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “It was a lovely service. Shall I prepare your breakfast now, sir?” she asked.

“If you please, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby. “We will eat it here rather than the dining room.”

Mrs. Cruz nodded that she had understood, turned and walked away. Later, she returned bearing a large tray that she set down on an adjacent table. From it she removed two plates piled high with food and placed it before both Bobby and Louie. She then handed them a fork and spoon wrapped together in a paper serviette. She returned to the tray and brought two glasses of fresh mango juice in which ice was floating. She then departed.

Each plate held a pile of rice on which sat two fried eggs 61

cooked sunny side up. Alongside each rice pile were four small, dark sausages. Unlike the previous evening, the rice grains appeared to be separate and were shiny with oil, as though it had been fried.

“Rice for breakfast?” asked Louie. “The one thing you are going to have to get to enjoy in this place, Bobby, is rice.”

He picked up the spoon and took some, placing it into his mouth. A startled look came upon his face as he swallowed it. “Jesus H. Christ,” he spluttered. “Sorry, Bobby. I couldn’t help that one but there is more garlic in here than rice.”

Bobby, who had started by spearing a sausage and chewing on it said, ”That is probably to get you warmed up for the sausage. It is also full of garlic.”

“Chr-. I mean good Lord,” answered Bobby. “Anyone we talk to today will collapse with the fumes. If garlic wards off evil spirits, we are living in a holy house.”

Bobby had taken some rice and was now chewing it.

“You must admit though,” he said. “Once you get over the shock, it is not bad. Quite tasty, really.”

“Better than pig’s blood pudding,” said Louie, trying a sausage. “You are right. These are strong tasting, but not bad.”

If they had any problems, it was not apparent, as both cleared their plates. As if answering a signal, Mrs. Cruz came and removed the empty dishes. “Great sausage, Mrs. Cruz,” complimented Louie. “Longaniza, sir Louie,” said Mrs. Cruz. “As you are both Filipino, I thought you would appreciate some real food instead of the muck they give you in America.”

“Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby. “Is Jaimie around yet? Uncle Jun has suggested he drive us around the area.”

“I’ll find him for you, father, and tell him to have the car ready out front,” she said.

62

“Oh. By the way,” said Bobby. “We will be lunching out today, Mrs. Cruz, with the local priest.”

“Oh. He is such a lovely man, sir,” she said. “He is from America but was born in Italy.”

After they had both attempted to remove some of the garlic taste by vigorously cleaning their teeth, they went out of the front door to the waiting car. Louise decided to ride in front. They set off and Jaimie took them around the San Fernando markets, where they walked for a while, then to the northern outskirts where one hotel appeared to hang off a cliff that gave them an excellent view of the port. Later they went to Sangley Point, where once there was a contingent of American troops operating a communication station. They enjoyed the beaches there, then finally, nearer to home to Buang, where the beach is lined with small foreign owned and operated resorts. One, they noticed, had a nightclub similar to those they had visited in Makati, although this being such a small community, was obviously out of bounds to them. Walking through another, Louie picked up a menu. “Hey, buddy,” he started. “I mean father. Have a look at this. Real food. Steaks, fish, french fries, hamburgers, the lot. Let’s make an excuse to Mrs. Cruz and come here to eat tonight.”

Bobby glanced at the menu that had been handed to him. “Yeah,” he said. “Real food. Let’s do it.” He then looked at his watch. “We had better be getting back. Uncle Jun is due to collect us in five minutes.” They went back to the road and climbed back into the car. They hadn’t realized just how close their house was to these resorts. If need be they could walk to them within ten minutes.

Jun was already waiting, sat on the verandah with a glass of Coca-Cola and ice. They joined him, but he appeared not to be in a hurry. “If we arrive on time, the father will still 63

be doing something else,” he stated. “So better be a bit late and that makes us arrive when expected.” Bobby and Louie exchanged glances.

“Uncle Jun,” started Bobby. “Is the Internet available in San Fernando?”

“I think so,” answered Jun. “There are a number of Internet cafes, so it must be.”

“I have noticed though, that we do not have a computer in the house,” observed Bobby.

“Well,” replied Jun. “Your father did not instruct me to purchase one for you. Do you need one to preach the words of Jesus?”

“Not so much to preach, although it would be useful in preparing my sermons,” said Bobby. “But I will need to send reports to my Order as well as budget requests to my father. Having a computer and being able to send and receive e-mails is essential. Is there any money left from that my father advanced?”

Jun looked crestfallen He toyed with the keys in his hand, as though thinking. “Perhaps there is a little,” he answered. “I will check.”

“Well, Uncle Jun,” continued Bobby. “Would you check today, as a computer is urgently required, as in today.”

“Well,” answered a hesitating Jun. “There would be enough for a second-hand computer.”

“Second-hand as in the furniture in this house?” interrupted Louie.

“No, no,” responded Louie. “There is a shop in town that sells second-hand computers and they are all guaranteed for one year.”

“Then perhaps, Uncle,” persisted Bobby. “After lunch, we could visit this shop and fix up a computer?”

“Yes,” answered Jun. “We will do that. Any other 64

problems?”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “The boiler or hot water heater appears to have broken down. Can we get it fixed?”

Jun started to laugh. “It hasn’t broken down, Father Bobby,” he said. “It hasn’t broken down because it never existed. Very few people in the Philippines have hot water.

The water is warm anyway.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “I do not intend to remain here unless I can enjoy a hot shower. Are their sufficient funds after the computer to install either a heater or a solar panel?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” answered Jun, obviously beginning to see the profit he had thought he had made being severely whittled down. “I will look into it,” he said rising. “Now, we must be off. We will use my car,” he said, walking into the lounge towards the front door.

9

Meeting The Mafiosa Priest The manse of Father Luigi Puigi was magnificent. It stood in its own grounds alongside the church right in the heart of San Fernando itself. The driveway gate was open so they were able to pull up right outside of the portico that framed a huge, black timber door sporting a newlyshined old-fashioned door knocker.

With not a little trepidation, Bobby stood alongside his uncle while he banged the door three times in almost solemnity. They waited until a very pretty young lady wearing a much-shortened version of a maid’s outfit opened the door and smiled at them showing perfect teeth.

Bobby heard Louie, who was stood behind him, gently let a whoosh of breath out of his mouth.

“Good morning,” she said, in perfect English. “I believe you are here to lunch with the father. He is waiting for you in his study. Would you follow me?”

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She turned and Louie hastened to push through for a better view of her swaying behind as she walked in front of them into the hall and down a passageway. She stopped, knocked on a door, opened it and announced, “Your guests have arrived, father.”

They entered a very large study. The walls were lined with books. It had French windows to the side that opened onto the large back garden. A huge dark-timbered desk was at an angle to one corner. In front of the open windows were three small settees and a coffee table. Father Puigi rose from behind his desk. He was a large man with a fringe of white hair. He was wearing the traditional black robe, but without his half-collar. His ruddy face beamed as he came around the desk, and in a strong American accent said, ”Come in.

Come in, Please, be seated. Make yourself at home.” They sat but he had moved and stood in front of them. “Jun,” he said.

“Lovely to see you again. Now, which is our new preacher?”

He turned towards Bobby and Louie, who had chosen to sit together. Bobby stood up and extended his hand. :I am,” he said. “Bobby Reyes, father. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” The priest took his hand and warmly shook it. Louie had also stood. “And this is?” asked the beaming priest. “This is my private secretary, Louie Mendoza,” said Bobby. “He is only here to help me settle in, unfortunately.”

“Louise,” said the father, pumping his hand. “We have the same first names, but yours is in French, while mine is Italiano. Welcome.” The father turned and went to the empty settee and sat. “Now first,” he beamed. “Some refreshment, Italian style. Mia,” he shouted. The very pretty maid again entered the study. “Mia. Wine and some nibbles for our guests,” he said. She departed, with Louie’s eyes following her movements. This was noticed by the father. “Louie. Are you sure you are Filipino?” he said. “With your appreciation 66

of beauty, you could be Italian. Mia is very beautiful, is she not?”

“She is indeed, father. Unusually so for such a humble position,” answered Louie. The father burst into laughter.

He turned to the others. “You see, Italians love beautiful things. It is in our blood. Look at what we, as a race, have given the world. Beautiful things. Michael Angelo, his paintings, especially the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The statue of David. Many other beautiful things emanate in Italy, including beautiful women. Who can forget Gina Lolobrigida or Sophie Loren?”

“Well,” said Louie. “You sure can pick staff.” The others laughed nervously. “All of my staff are beautiful,” exclaimed the father with his hands in the air. “My cook,” he continued.

“She is beautiful. My housekeeper. Magnificent and big.” He motioned with his hands in the area of the breasts.”

“It must be a temptation, father,” said Bobby, wishing that he hadn’t. The father laughed. “Roberto, my boy,” he said. “Of course it is a temptation. I am not just a man, but Italian. Italians thrive on love, but I have a vow of celibacy to keep. I may be on a diet, Bobby, but what is wrong with looking at the menu?”

Mia had returned with a tray on which stood an opened bottle of red Italian wine, four glasses and a plate containing slices of salami and small squares of white cheese. An empty glass was set in front of each of them and the plate put in the middle of the coffee table. Mia then poured a little wine into the glass of the father. He raised it to the light and studied its color. Then he swirled it around and placed his not small nose deep into the glass and sniffed. He raised his head with eyes closed. Then, without opening his eyes, he took some of the wine into his mouth. The actions of his cheeks indicated the wine was being sloshed around over 67

his tongue. He then swallowed, opened his eyes and smiled.

“Excellent,” he exclaimed. “In fact perfect. You may pour our guests now, Mia.” Mia distributed wine in a manner that would not have put the wine waiter in a five-star hotel to shame. As she stood alongside each in turn, they all became aware of her delicate perfume. Louie was openly studying her legs, especially when her back was turned to him and she was bending to pour the wine into the father’s glass. She placed the bottle on the table and was about to leave. “Mia,” said the father. “Open another two bottles to allow them to breathe before we have lunch,” he ordered.

“Now,” said the father. “You must help yourself to some salami. It arrives monthly along with fresh supplies from my dear old mother in Milano. She also sends the goat cheese, which she still makes with her own hands. To mama,” he suddenly said, and they all raised their wine glasses and took a sip in a silent toast.

“I thought you were an American,” said Louise.

“I am American, from Chicago,” answered the priest.

“I was born in Italy, but taken to America when I was two.

But after the death of my papa, my mama didn’t want me to follow in his footsteps, but rather to become a priest.”

“So your father is no longer alive?” asked Booby.

“May his soul rest in peace,” said the father, crossing himself. “He passed away when I was eighteen. It was a normal risk of his profession, but my mama received a pension large enough to finance me into the priesthood and for her to return to Italy.”

“You father must have been a successful man in his job,” observed Louie.

“He was,” admitted the father. “Right up until his last job, when his target was faster on the draw than he was.”

“Target?” asked Bobby.

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“Si,” answered the father. “My papa was a hitman for the Cosa Nostra in Chicago.”

“He was in the mafia?” asked and astonished Louie.

“I am afraid I cannot tell you,” answered the priest. “I am sworn to silence. Now,” he said laughing. “Drink and eat. We will lunch soon. A light lunch I am afraid. Just some pasta and veal. I prefer my main meal to be dinner.”

In the dining room, the light lunch consisted of a huge bowl of spaghetti that had been tossed in a sauce of wine, cream and lumps of bacon. Both Bobbie and Louie did their best to eat it all in order not to be rude, but it was a relief when the plate was finally cleared, as they were close to bursting. Then, to their horror, two other beautiful young maids, wearing mini-maids outfits, carried a large open earthenware dish and placed it in the centre of the table. There, floating in olive oil were cutlets of veal and whole tomatoes. The father insisted that they each be served with three cutlets. They were delicious, but hard to get into a pasta filled stomach. It wasn’t helped by one maid continually refilling their wine glasses and the father continually offering toasts so that had to drink at his pace.

The father was called out of the room to the telephone, when Louie said, ”If this is his version of a light lunch, let’s hope he never invites us to dinner.”

When they had finished, the father led a prayer of thanks and then said. “Louise and Jun. Let Mia show you into the garden where she will bring you coffee. I wish to speak with Roberto for a short while in my study. Please,” he said standing. The group split up while the father with Bobby went to the study. A pot of coffee and two cups had already been placed on the coffee table. The father indicated for Bobby to sit and he took a seat on the adjacent settee and poured the two coffees.

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“Now, Roberto,” he started. ‘I cannot call you father, because you are not an ordained priest such as me. In public I shall refer to you as brother and you will call me father.

Si?” “Certainly, father,” answered Bobby, a little fearful because the priest was no longer smiling.

“Now, Roberto,” continued the priest. “I have had you checked out and your Order. In spite of the stupid name of St. Martian’s, it seems that its missionaries are doing a credible job in various places around the world.”

“Thank you, father,” said Bobby.

“But you, Brother Roberto, are an enigma,” sated the priest.

“An enigma? Why so?” Asked a now nervous Bobby.

“Well,” continued the priest. “My investigations show that all of your brothers underwent three years training in Los Angeles, yet you only did less than one year. Why is that so? I ask myself. Perhaps he was a brilliant student with enormous capacities for absorption of knowledge.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Bobby, in the belief he could alter the direction of the priest’s thinking.

“But I don’t think so,” said the priest. “Although I don’t yet know the answer, there is something funny about you turning up here in San Fernando as a missionary. I intend to find out that reason.”

Silence hung between them as the priest appeared to be wishing for a confession. Bobby stayed silent.

“So,” the priest suddenly said. “In spite of this, I have decided to accept you, but you must follow the rules.”

“What rules, sir?” asked Bobby.

“My rules,” answered the priest. “Although I was raised in America, Roberto, deep down I am still Italian and because of this, I understand the Italian people. You, on 70

the other hand, have also been raised in America but deep down you are still a Filipino, and you will understand the Philippine people, but this will take time.”

He sipped his coffee. “Now,” he continued. “Let me explain the Filipino. The Filipino loves religion. He wants to believe in God. He wants desperately to believe in Jesus.

He wants to believe that Mary is there. At the same time he believes that spirits reside in trees, ghosts both good and evil abound at night. Most Filipinos are of our persuasion, the Catholic persuasion, but few are Christians.”

Bobby showed he was startled by this insight. The father continued. “The one thing the Filipino understands, for example, is the pecking order. From the top to the bottom, there is a pecking order. Now, when it comes to religion, I am number one. Do you agree?”

“Of course, father,” answered Bobby. “You are the parish priest.”

“Exactly,” said the priest. “But you know that and I know that, but will the average Filipino know that?”

“I would expect so,” answered Bobby.

The problem is, Roberto,” continued Father Puigi. “You just might turn out to be a forceful preacher, and then my people may think you are number one.

“I wouldn’t describe myself as forceful, father,” said Bobby. “I do not think you have any fear in that department.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” the priest continued. “But in Manila, such preachers as Mike Velardo of El Shaddai have overshadowed the local priests. I do not intend for that to happen here. Thus, Brother Roberto, you will come to my mass every Sunday morning and you will sit in the front row. That way, everyone of my parishioners can see just who is number one. Agreed?”

“Certainly, father,” said Bobby. “I shall be there.”

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“Good,” said the priest. ”Now. Your job here is to not so much convert people to Christianity, but rather to bring them back into the fold of the mother church.”

“Do you mean I mustn’t try to convert heathens, father?” asked Bobby.

“They are all heathens, Roberto,” answered Father Luigi. “It is just that we need these heathens in our church.

No. Your job is to get them to see the error of their ways and then direct them to my church. We do not want competition here.”

“Yes, father,” agreed Bobby.

“Now. Funding,” said the priest. “I know that your Order requires you to become self sufficient in funds.”

“They do indeed, father,” agreed Bobby.

“All well and good,” said the priest. “As long as it doesn’t cross my own funding sources.”

“Which are?” asked Bobby.

“First,” said the priest. “You will assume that all of the wealthy are good Catholics and leave them alone. You are to administer to the poor and leave the rich to me.”

“I don’t know who they are at present,” admitted Bobby.

“Let me explain how this town works,” said the priest, leaning back. “The wealthiest person in the area is the man who runs jueteng. Do you know what jueteng is?”

“No,” admitted Bobby. “I have never heard of it.”

“You may know it as the numbers game,” answered Father Luigi. “My father was heavily involved in it in Chicago years ago.”

“I have heard of the numbers game,” admitted Bobby.

“But I was never sure of what it was.”

“Well,” explained the priest. “Everyday, people select two numbers and bet a little money on them. In the evening, the jueteng lord pretends the two numbers are drawn at 72

random. In reality, they call out the two numbers he has selected based on the low number of people who have selected them. In that manner the pot, that is the amount left after he has deducted his considerable expenses, is only divided among a few winners. This makes for a much larger amount per winner and encourages people to invest on the following day. All perfectly fair.”

“Yes. I suppose the challenge is to guess what numbers nobody else is going to use,” said Bobby.

“Correct,” said the priest. “Now our Church condemns gambling in all forms, but especially this one. I could preach against it every Sunday if I desired, but I do not.

Why? Because it is harmless and once a month the local jueteng lord gives me two numbers on which to place P100, for which a welcome return is achieved.”

“Good Lord,” said Bobby, genuinely shocked.

“I am glad you feel like this as for you, the jueteng lord is definitely out of bounds. Understand?” said Father Luigi.

“If you are allowed in as well, then our dividends will also go down. Now the jeuting lord controls the land-owners and any businessmen of note. In turn, they decide who the politicians will be, including the Governor and Mayor.

Councilors, barangay councils, everybody is only elected with the nod of these powerful men. They are all off bounds to you. They all know they are dreadful sinners, but they pay me for forgiveness, even after death. That business is all mine. Understand?”

“Yes, father,” said Bobby.

“Now,” said the priest. “Other forms of fund-raising that also come totally under me.”

Bobby waited.

“You are not permitted to run bingo, garden fetes, draws or garage sales. All of those are within my province, 73

understand?”

“Yes, father,” answered Bobby.

“Candle sales are also mine, as are testaments, holy pictures and statues of the saints,” continued Father Luigi.

“Yes, father,” said Bobby.

“And Brother Roberto,” he said, leaning forward.

“Remember the loins from which I came. Do not, ever, try to cross me, or the sharks will feed off your carcass.”

Suddenly, the priest leaned back, laughed and said, “Come along, young man. Let’s join the others. I have enjoyed your visit and I look forward to renewing your acquaintance next Sunday. Come, let us go out into the garden through here.”

Lunch was terminated, if such a word was now allowed in Bobby’s vocabulary, and Jun drove them to the one and only computer shop. A very knowledgeable Filipino showed them what was on offer, but quietly recommended one that had only been purchased that day as being the best. It came complete with inbuilt modum and printer. The shop was also an agent for the local server, so they signed up then and there. Uncle Jun reluctantly pulled a wallet from his pocket and paid the bill. They then headed home.

Bobby informed Mrs. Cruz that she could relax as they were going out for dinner. She asked and received permission for her to visit her sister in the town. This allowed Bobby to bring one bottle of bourbon down from his room, raid the refrigerator for Coke and ice, and for them both to enjoy a drink while Louie set up the computer in the study.

Late in the afternoon, Louie called for Bobby to join him in the study. The computer screen was glowing. “Have a look at this pal,” said Louie. Bobby leaned over his shoulder and nearly fell over when he saw a picture of a couple on the screen naked and making love. “Will you look at the size of 74

that guys donger,” said Louie. “I didn’t think they came that big except on elephants.”

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Bobby.

“It’s not my fault,” said Louie. “These and many more are on a file in this computer. The shop obviously didn’t have a chance to dump the previous owner’s files, and boy, are they hot.”

He pressed a key and this time a large busty blonde came onto the screen making love to a donkey. “For God’s sake.

That is disgusting,” said Bobby. “Get it out of the computer, will you?”

“Sure. Sure,” said Louie. “But I have got to look at what I am dumping.”

The file was indeed extensive. Louie spent nearly two hours viewing each frame, chortling or making lewd remarks, before sending it to the trash can.

“Don’t forget to empty the trash,” said Bobby, as he went to the kitchen to fetch more ice.

It was already dark when the computer had been emptied of pornography and they decided to shower and change before going to the resort for dinner. “I’m still not really hungry,” admitted Louie.

“The walk will give you an appetite,” said Bobby, before climbing the stairs. They heard Mrs. Cruz come in and just before they left, she came to bid good night. It was not yet then seven. “Breakfast time tomorrow?” she asked.

“About eight-thirty, Mrs. Cruz. Thank you. Enjoy your mass,” said Bobby.

“Thank you sir,” she replied. “I will.”

10

Life Looks Up The short walk to Buang turned out to be a very pleasant experience. The night was cool, aided by a slight breeze 75

that came off of the sea, carrying with it a smell of salt and seaweed. In between the glaring headlights of vehicles that passed infrequently, the stars overhead studded the sky with a million sparkling diamonds. From across the road, they could hear the gentle waves hitting the beach and moving the sand in an almost continuous shushing sound. The lights of the first resort, Southern Palms, were clearly in sight. As they passed, they could see the neon lights advertising the nightclub and hear the sounds of rock music coming from it. Tempted as they were, they passed by and on towards the Bali Hai resort in which they had perused the menu earlier that day. The walk did in fact help to regain their appetite. They reached the gravel driveway into the resort, walked along it until they came to a gate, inside of which was a guardhouse. The armed guard greeted them and they passed down a path between cottages, many of them had lights glowing against curtained windows, indicating habitation. They emerged from the path into an open area, in the center of which was a swimming pool, the underwater lights of which made it appear to be very blue. Beyond this they could see the wall that marked the boundary between resort and beach. The sound of the ocean was louder now.

On their left was an open-sided bar and restaurant. They turned and mounted the two steps and headed for the bar.

“What do you want to drink?” asked Bobbie.

“I think I will have a beer for a change,” said Louie. “I need to stay sober for the walk back.”

“Good idea,” agreed Bobby. “Two beers please.”

“San Miguel Light or Pilsen,” asked the barman.

“What is the best?” asked Louie.

“I prefer the Pilsen myself,” said the barman. “The light tastes a bit too much like yeast.”

“Make it two Pilsens then,” said Bobby.

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Two opened, ice-cold bottles were handed to them.

“Do you want a glass?” asked the barman.

“This will do fine,” answered Louie, lifting the neck to his lips, then taking a large swallow. “Hey,” he said. “This is not bad. Not bad at all,” and took another swig.

“It is pretty good,” agreed Bobby. “Maybe we should get some tomorrow and keep them in our refrigerator.”

“Good idea,” said Louie. “Two more, barman.”

A man wearing a dirty baseball cap, a grubby singlet and baggy shorts came up to them. “Gudday, mates,” he said. “Welcome to Bali Hai. You staying here?”

“No,” confessed Bobby. “We’ve just dropped in to eat.”

“Well, welcome anyways,” answered the man. “I’m Pete Simpson, one of the owners of this joint. Your both septics aren’t you?”

“Septics?” asked Louie.

“Yeah, mate,” answered Pete. “Sceptic tanks. Yanks.

Youse here on holiday?”

“Yeah,” answered Louie. “Where are you from?”

“Aus, mate. Australia,” he said. “Couldn’t you tell?

Anyway, you can pay in dollars if you want.”

“Hey. That’s a point,” said Bobby. “How many pesos have you got, Louie?”

“Not many after that night out,” said Louie.

“Me, neither,” said Bobby.

“I’ll change you some money for ya now, if you like,” said Pete.

They both got out their wallets, and each extracted a one hundred dollar bill. “Can you change these?” asked Bobby.

“Sure thing, mate,” said Pete, taking both. “I’ll go to the office. Be back in a tick.”

They both turned back to the bar and picked up their 77

beer. “I hope we haven’t been taken,” said Louie.

“What do you mean, taken?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” said Louie. “We have just handed over one hundred each to a scruffy looking little bloke who says he is the owner. For all we know he could just be an old beach bum and now heading for town.”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “Don’t say that. I haven’t got that much money I can afford to lose a hundred.”

Louie grinned. “Here we are lads,” came the welcome voice of Pete. He came up to them with a bundle of pesos in each hand. “P5,200 each. The rate is fifty-three, but we take a small commission.”

“That’s okay by me Pete,” said Louie, looking at the menu and realizing just how cheap it was to live in the Philippines if you had dollars.

“Let’s eat,” suggested Bobby and the moved towards a table, one that allowed them to have a good view between the silhouetted palm trees of the South China Sea. The moon had risen, and although only three-quarter full, it cast a silvery path over the ocean ripples seemingly directly to their table. They ordered a Jumbo cheeseburger with fries each and a bottle of red wine. While sipping their wine and waiting for the food, Louie said, “I wish you were better looking and of a different sex. I think I could fall in love tonight.”

“I just wish it was Mia sat there instead of you,” answered Bobby.

“Wow,” said Louie. “That Mia is some good looking chick. Do you think that old priest gets full service?”

“I just can’t imagine her going to bed with that old bastard,” said Bobby.

“What did he talk to you about in the study?” asked Louie.

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“He just established, very firmly, mafia fashion, that around here, when it comes to money grabbing, he is the king,” said Bobby.

“You’re kidding me,” guffawed Louie.

“I am not,” answered Bobby. “He basically told me straight out that if I cross him and lower his income, he will feed me to the sharks. And what is more, I believe he would.”

The burgers turned up and satisfied the desire of them both. “These are even better than back home,” admitted Bobby. When they, for the second time that day, were full, they leaned back staring at the scene. The waves on the shore provided the music.

“You know, Louie,” started Bobby. “I really wish you would consider staying longer with me. I really need your help.”

“Yeah,” answered Louie. “I’ve been thinking. This is not a bad dump really. I have got no reason to rush home. All I will do is hang out with the old gang. Perhaps a month or two here would do me good.”

“Do you mean that?” asked Bobby, excitement in his voice.

“Yeah,” said Louie. “Why not? I’ll telephone the oldies tomorrow and as long as they will send me some more money, I’ll stay, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” he continued. “After studying that Mia today, there is no way I can match you in celibacy. Neither of us can have that type of fun here because the word would soon get around. So, I will stay providing once a fortnight we can both go back to Manila or somewhere and have a couple of nights of good old-fashioned fucking.”

“I agree,” said Bobby, leaning over the table with his 79

hand outstretched.

“Amen to that,” said Louie, shaking the outstretched hand.

“Now you’re getting the picture,” said Bobby.

11

Starting The Mission Louie was as good as his word. As soon as they arrived back at the house, he telephoned his mother. She was excited to hear from him and even more excited when he told her of his plans to stay longer. “I knew you would love your own country,” she said. His father also appeared pleased and asked him to organize a local bank account, send him the details and he would forward some money on a regular basis. After this, they went onto the verandah and enjoyed a nightcap of bourbon on the rocks to celebrate.

Bobby had learned from his Uncle Jun that Mrs. Cruz would do the grocery shopping. After breakfast the following morning, however, they decided that they would spend the morning exploring the shops themselves to see if any foodstuffs other than Filipino were available. Jaimie drove them and parked up the car, then followed them in order to carry any bags.

It proved to be a good move on their part. Many items on the supermarket shelves were the same as they could buy at home. They also discovered two delicatessens run by Europeans, and these proved to be a treasure house of cold cuts, cheeses, wines and really good bread. They also found a liquor store and ordered a range of spirits, some wines and two cases of canned San Miguel beer to be delivered later in the day. They purchased a supply of stationary in order to allow them to prepare pamphlets for their supposed missionary work. They arrived back at the house too late though to prevent Mrs. Cruz from cooking lunch, which 80

was fried fish, cluggy rice and an undressed salad. They did improve things by opening a bottle of wine to have with it.

It had to be red wine as there was not sufficient time to chill down a white. They then learned one of the local customs was to have a nap after lunch, and embraced this idea, both going to their rooms, stripping down to boxer shorts and laying on the bed under the cool down-breeze of the ceiling fan.

Feeling refreshed, they enjoyed one of Mrs. Cruz’ glasses of iced tea while discussing their next move.

“Well,” said Bobby. “I had better start the mission.”

“Right, boss,” asked Louie. “How do we do that?”

“I’m not really sure,” admitted Louie. “They teach that in the third year at the seminary.”

“Good start, Bobby,” said Louie.

“Well,” said Bobby. “It can’t be that hard. Let’s think about it. All I need is people to preach at and a place to do it, like a church.”

“I knew your father forgot something,” said Louie. “He forgot to buy a church.”

“Oh, come off it, Louie,” said Bobby.

“Well,” asked Louie. “What does one of your missionaries do if he lands up in Africa?”

“I suppose he gets the people to build a church out of trees, branches and grass,” answered Bobby.

“In that case, the people must come before the church.

Right?” asked Louie.

“I suppose you are right,” said Bobby. “But he has to gather the people together somewhere.”

“Well,” said Louie. “Look around you. We have a large garden. Why don’t you start by gathering them here? It will take at least fifty to maybe a hundred.”

“We will need some seats,” said Bobby. “And maybe 81

lighting if we are to meet in the evenings.”

“Those plastic chairs they use in the resort would be good,” said Louie.

“Yes, but where will we get the money for those?” asked Bobby. “Even if they are only five bucks each, the cost of one hundred of them is more than I have.”

“Put it into the budget you send your father,” suggested Louie. “Maybe he will agree.”

“I’ll do that, but what do we do in the meantime?” asked Bobby.

“Let’s ask your Uncle Jun where we might be able to buy second-hand timber and some tools. We could make benches ourselves. We can rig the lighting ourselves. It will give us something to do.”

“Great idea, Louie,” said Bobby. “Now. Suppose we get the people here. What do I preach?”

“For God’s sake, Bobby,” said Louie. “You’re the goddam father, not me. You preach what it says in the Bible, but the New Testament as you are trying to get people to become Christians, not Jews.”

“Right. I’ll make a note,” said Bobby. “Read the Bible.”

“That will be a good start,” said Louie. “I reckon though, before you start full scale preaching, it would be better to get some feed-back.”

“In what way?” asked Bobby.

“Well. If I were you I would want to know what is of the most interest to these people and then preach on that,” said Louie.

“How am I going to do that?” asked Bobby.

“What we ought to do,” continued Louie. “Is for you to wear your outfit with the half-collar and go walking around some poor districts and talk to people.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby.

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“Then before starting full scale preaching, we call in groups to a Bible study class, you read out a bit of the Bible and get them to discuss it. From that you will get a good idea of the way they think.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby , rising. “I’ll ask Uncle Jun now about the timber, and if he has any ideas of how to start.” He left the verandah to go to the telephone in the study. Louie took some paper and started to mock out a possible leaflet.

It was thirty minutes later that Bobby returned.

“Well,” he said. “That was very helpful. Uncle Jun says that we needn’t worry about the benches, as he can get them made up for next to nothing. He also says if we get Mrs. Cruz to arrange some simple food, soft drinks, paper plates and cups, we will have no problem getting people to come.

He says they will go anywhere as long as there is food and drink on offer. He will prepare some notices and have them put up in a nearby neighbourhood, so our first Bible study will be in three days time.”

“Good,” said Louie. “Look. I need to visit where my mother’s family home used to be. It will make my mother very happy to hear from her sister that I have visited and it will keep the money coming from pa. I’ll take a bus tomorrow and stay overnight. That should allow you time to do some Bible study yourself. Use that Bible in the chapel.

It is in modern English and easier to understand.”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “I was hoping to come with you on that trip.”

“Next time, buddy,” said Louie. “You have some work to do and it will be easier if I am not around.”

“Are we going to eat out tonight?” asked Bobby.

“I thought we might stay in, have the fresh bread, some cold cuts and drink a couple of bottles of wine. I feel like an early night,” said Louie.

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“That is a great idea,” said Bobby. “I will tell Mrs. Cruz before she starts cooking.”

12

The First Bible Class For the next two days, Bobby read the New Testament.

He was amazed at how interesting it was. He used the small table in the chapel, because he believed it had the right atmosphere. Alongside him, he had a cup with a dozen sharpened pencils and a legal yellow pad on which he made copious notes as he read. He missed Louie dreadfully. The first night he had eaten his dinner in silence, Mrs. Cruz having already retired. Her attitude had changed though.

She would bring him fresh mango juice to the chapel, and beam at him as he studied. Whatever doubts she may have previously had regarding his religiosity had certainly been dissipated by his intense study of the Bible.

The second night he had walked along the road to the resort. It was again a lonely walk without the usual banter of his friend, but it did allow him time to think. This being at the beginning of the season, there were few guests. He found himself in a conversation with two youngish Australian men who were on their first visit and raving about the sex that was, if not freely available, at least plentiful. They had invited him to join them in visiting the closest nightclub, an invitation he regretfully declined.

In spite of his preparation, the following day he felt very nervous about the upcoming evening Bible study class. Uncle Jun had delivered a number of rough benches and had informed him to expect about fifty people. Uncle Jun had discussed the catering with Mrs. Cruz, who was already busy in the kitchen cooking the sauce for the proposed spaghetti and frying great quantities of small fish. Two men had rigged up some lighting in the garden, 84

although it remained to be tested in the evening. Uncle Jun had arranged for a Karaoke machine to be set up to act as a personal address system. A delivery van brought three cases of soft drinks, paper plates and cups.

Just before lunch an exuberant Louie appeared.

Throwing his bag down he embraced Bobby. “Hi,” he said.

“I missed you. You should have come. It was great.”

“Visiting an old aunt is great?” asked Bobby.

“It is when your uncle is a randy old dog,” said Louie.

“He took me to a nightclub, we both picked up a chick, and took them to a short-time motel. Now that was a sure cure for a low sperm count.”

“You dirty, lucky bastard,” laughed Bobby. “All of this while I studied the Bible. Well, Mr. Nazerino, I can now inform you with the utmost authority and knowledge, that you are going to fry in hell.”

“To hell I am,” laughed Louie. “Anyway, I see that you are set for tonight. Looking good. What do you want me to do?”

“I thought you could register people as they come in and later pass around the collection bag,” said Bobby. “After all, we have to start thinking about getting an income.”

“Too right if we you are to keep your promise and we visit Manila for a weekend,” laughed Louie. “Look, it has been a long bus trip. What say we have our lunch now, and then I can shower and take a nap. That little girl sure wore me out last night.”

“I agree,” said Bobby. “Although I wish you would stop talking about your sexual adventure. With the way my balls are growing I should be a canon.”

Later, in the afternoon, they carried the lectern from the chapel and set it up facing the seats. Bobby marked the passages he intended to read that evening and they did a 85

sound test with the system. “Are we going to eat before or after the event?” asked Louie.

“According to Uncle Jun, after our session we feed them all and we eat with them,” said Bobby.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Louie. “Have you looked at just what is for dinner?”

“No,” admitted Bobby. “I have left all of that to Mrs. Cruz.”

“Well,” said Louie. “It may surprise you to know that the food is ready. There are huge bowls of spaghetti mixed in a tomato sauce. They are lukewarm now and by the time it is served it will all be cold and gluggy. To go with this chef ’s delight are piles of cooked fish that are also now cold and will go very well with the already cooked lumps of rice.

With all probability, the only thing that will be warm will be the soft drinks.”

“This is what Filipinos expect,” answered Bobby, defensively.

“It may be what they expect and it may be what they like,” said Louie with emphasis. “But I can tell you this. I for one do not want to sit up all night with heartburn, so forget that.”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “Just put a little on your plate and forget to eat it. When everybody is gone, we still have some cheeses and cold cuts. I will send Jaime to get some French bread and we can have that with wine.”

“Okay,” said an appeased Louie. “I’ll go along with that.”

By six, just after the sun had set, Louie sat a table by the gate with a yellow pad and some pencils. He was having a hard time spelling some of the names of the people arriving.

At the advice of Uncle Jun, Bobby, already dressed in his black shirt with white half-collar remained in the lounge until he was called. “You must put on a show,” advised his 86

Uncle Jun. “We Filipinos love a show, something theatrical.

That is why we are Catholics,” he continued. “See, we love the ceremonies, the fiestas, carrying icons of Jesus and the saints. All of this. It is religious show business.”

The longer Bobby sat, the more nervous he became.

Uncle Jun came through the verandah windows. “Are you ready?” he asked. Bobby just nodded, and then took a sip of water in a vain attempt to slake the continual dryness that had developed in his throat. “Okay,” said Uncle Jun. “Remember. Speak slowly. These peoples English not so good. Now. I will announce you.” He smiled broadly, as he was indeed enjoying this small moment of fame. He turned, entered the garden, went to the rostrum, tapped the microphone. “Testing. Testing,” he said, an action that brought silence to the assembled and seated crowd of about fifty people of both sexes.

“My friends and neighbors,” he started. “Tonight, it is my great pleasure to introduce to you a wonderful man all the way from America.” There was some applause. “Now this wonderful man, although a stranger in person, is no stranger really because he is one of us. He was born in our town to people you may remember, Renato and Rosalita Reyes. Their son has been sent by God back to us.” There was more applause. “Their son is a missionary, sent back to the place of his birth to lead us all from sin and into the good graces of Jesus our Lord.” More applause. “He has vowed to do this by first, getting us to relearn that which is in the Holy Book, the word of God himself.” More applause. “And now, my friends, I give you the man himself, Brother Roberto Reyes.” The applause was deafening as Bobby stepped from the lounge, onto the verandah and made his way towards the lectern, with the bible under his arm. “Wave,” whispered Uncle Jun, who had moved to greet him with a handshake.

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Bobby duly waved and the applause increased. He stood at the lectern and placed his Bible on it, then opened it at the marked place. His Uncle Jun stood back one pace to his left.

Bobby adjusted the microphone to his height and cleared his throat. The applause ceased as they all strained to hear his words.

“Before we begin, may I express my heartfelt thanks for the very warm welcome you have given me, and I hope that such a welcome will be given to Jesus Christ our Savior as you also welcome him to your hearts.” Applause again broke out. Bobby raised his arms. “My task here, in my hometown, is to help you to understand your Bible. Each time, I will read some passages from the Bible and then I will invite your questions and we will discuss it together. As we are going to follow the life of Jesus, tonight I will start at the beginning and read to you what Luke had to report on the birth of our Lord. I will read from Luke. Chapter Two, verses one through to forty.”

Slowly, Bobby read the passages as written in the Good News Bible. When he reached the end the group again applauded. “Now, is there anything that may confuse you with this story?” A number of hands went up. He picked a man from the right, and people applauded when he stood up. “Yes. Father. According to sir Luke, Joseph and Mary were only engaged to be married when they went to Bethlehem,” he started. “What kind of father did Mary have to allow her to go away with her fiancé?”

“This is not explained in the book,” thought Bobby.

“How could he answer that one.” He looked toward Louie for inspiration, but he was just covering his face to avoid anyone seeing that he was laughing, not at the question, but at Bobby’s discomfort.

“Well,” answered Bobby. “In those days everybody 88

feared the wrath of God. They believed that if they had sex before marriage, then God would strike them down and so of course the parents of Mary trusted Joseph. It was and is part of Jewish law.”

“Was Gallilee a different country to Judeah or were they just provinces?” asked another.

Bobby quickly thought back to some of the historical reading he had done in the seminary. “They had been different countries years before this event, but as they were part of the Roman Empire, they all came under the governorship of Quirinus, so had become provinces.”

“So Joseph and Mary were to be a mixed marriage,” said another. “Just like my daughter and her Japanese husband.”

“Well,” answered Bobby. “Not as mixed as that. Next?

You at the end.”

“I don’t understand why Joseph had to go the Bethlehem?” he asked.

“Well, as I read, the Roman Emperor Augustus had ordered a complete census of all the people within his realm, and Bethlehem was where Joseph had been born.

Everybody had to return to the place of their family to register.”

“It is a good job this Augustus wasn’t the president of the Philippines and made such an order,” observed one other.

“Manila would have emptied overnight.” Many laughed at this.

“Father,” said another, standing. “If when we were engaged, my wife had told me that she was pregnant but still a virgin, I would not have believed her. I would have wanted to look into it, if you know what I mean. Was Joseph stupid?” There was much laughter.

“Someone else shouted, “Your wife had lost her virginity before she was married because it was you who took it.

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She was six months pregnant when you married her.” This caused more applause and laughter.

“Trust is a very big thing,” commenced Bobby, when the noise had died down. “When Mary told Joseph about her being still a virgin but that God had made her pregnant, such was his faith that of course he believed her.”

“No wonder so many Jews became Christian,” shouted an anonymous voice. “At least we can have sex before marriage.”

“And lechon,” shouted another. “And we don’t have to believe in everything someone tells us,” said a third.

Thinking the meeting was getting out of hand, Bobby held up his arms. “Are then any more questions?” he asked.

“Yes,” said one man standing. “What happened the three wise men and their gifts?”

Bobby took a quick look at his notes. The man was correct. Luke never mentioned the three wise men, only the three shepherds. “Apparently, Luke was not aware of the visit of the three wise men,” Bobby said lamely.

“Is he saying that it didn’t happen?” asked another.

“Well,” continued Bobby. “Luke was not at the event.

He wrote down the story many, many years after it had happened. He had learned it from others.”

“So,” shouted another. “Who do we believe? I mean to say, if three wise men had given Jesus presents worth a lot of money, then Jesus would have been rich.”

“Well,” answered Bobby, in desperation. “You will find out from later lessons that Jesus was certainly not rich.”

“So,” said the original questioner. “Luke was right.

There weren’t three wise men. They didn’t exist.”

“We cannot assume that,” said Bobby. “Only that Luke didn’t know about them. Next question?”

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“Hey, father,” said a small man standing up. “My daughter is pregnant and she swears that she hasn’t had jig-jig with any boy. Could it be possible that this is Jesus coming back again?”

“Not with your daughter it can’t,” shouted one man.

The questioner turned angrily to see who had made the remark. “My Lulu is a good girl,” he said and sat down.

“Father,” said a woman. “What Simeon said to Mama Mary is the same for all of us.”

“In what way?” asked Bobby.

“He told Mama Mary that Jesus would break her heart.

Isn’t this the way with all sons? Do not they all break their poor mamas’s hearts?”

Bobby was suddenly stricken with conscience as he thought of his own mother.

“Yes,” he said. “I think that will be all for now, so let us eat.”

“Don’t forget the commercial,” urgently whispered Uncle Jun in his ear.

“What commercial” asked Bobby.

“Tell them to go to mass on Sunday,” said Jun. “Father Puigi is bound to have a spy here. If he reports you extolled them to go to his church, he will be pleased with you. Don’t upset the father.”

The people were beginning to leave their seats. “Just one last thing,” shouted Bobby. They all stopped moving and looked at him. “What we have learned today is wasted unless you go at least once a week to mass,” he said. “I will be at the early mass on Sunday, and as you are all now my friends, I hope you will join me. Thank you, now the food is ready.”

There was a rush towards the trestle table that had been set up to one side of the garden. Mrs. Cruz, for once, had 91

not retired, but stood organizing the buffet behind the table sporting a huge smile. Louie came across to the lectern and joined Bobby. He reached across and switched off the microphone before speaking. “I am impressed,” said Louie.

“That was really good. Even I enjoyed it, especially some of the questions.”

“Let me tell you,” said Bobby. “The sweat is running down my back. Those questions are not easy to answer.”

“Never mind,” said Louie. “You bull-shitted your way through, now let’s join your congregation and try to hurry them out of the gate.”

They moved across to where some were tucking into their food and sipping the soft drinks from the cups. One stood up and held out his hand. “Thank you, father,” he said.

“My wife made me come, but now I am glad that I did. You make it so much more interesting than our priest.”

“Thank you,” said Bobby. “I hope to see you next week.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” answered the man. “There is nothing on television anyway.”

The compliments flew as they made their way around, with everybody saying how much they had enjoyed it.

Nobody noticed that neither Bobby nor Louie were eating.

An hour later, the last visitor was ushered out of the gate. Mrs. Cruz was told that they would help themselves and to retire for the night. “Won’t you stay for supper, Uncle?” asked Bobby.

“Not tonight, Roberto,” answered Jun. “My wife is expecting me to eat at home. I may do next week though.

From my conversations you have proven to be a big hit and we can expect double this number next week.”

“How did the collection go, Louise?” asked Bobby.

Louise tipped the bag he was holding out onto the table.

Not one coin was worth more than twenty-five centavos 92

and there were only a dozen of these, plus three buttons.

“There you are old buddy,” said Louie. “Three pesos and three buttons. I can’t believe it either as I heard everyone put in something.”

Jun began to laugh. “You shouldn’t try having a collection using a bag,” he said. “We are Filipinos. We put our hand in the bag, lift one of the coins up and then drop it so it makes a clink. You need to use an open plate so that it is clearly seen if anyone doesn’t contribute.”

“Well,” observed Bobby. “Three pesos doesn’t even cover the cost of one cup of soft drink. I think we made a big loss on this evening.”

“From what Jun here is saying,” observed Louie. “We could make six pesos next week.”

“At double the outlay,” said Bobby. “Louie, get out the supper while I go upstairs and put on something a little less formal.”

“At your service, in both ways,” laughed Louie.

13

Meeting The Neighbors Neither Bobby nor Louie were aware that the very high wall at the end of their garden obscured a view of a large barrio behind them. It was from this barrio that Uncle Jun had recruited his Bible study attendees. Uncle Jun had, the previous evening, suggested that it would be good politics for Bobby to become better known in that barrio, suggesting that they both take a walk in it and speak to the people. Thus, the following morning, although being black it absorbed so much of the sun’s heat, Bobby again donned his formal shirt and half-collar and he and Louie walked down the road leading to this barrio. Once they had passed the sides of the deep blocks of land fronting the main road, the contrast in living standards became dramatic.

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Literally hundreds of small dwellings ranging from the more solid construction of concrete block to the shantytown timber and tin huddled together in a tight formation.

The main road, although very narrow, was paved, but all of the other laterals were not, making them very dusty in the dry months and muddy puddles in the wet. No matter where they looked there were people, especially children.

Virtually every dwelling on the main road was engaged in some form of commerce. Fruit and vegetables were plenty.

An open-fronted meat shop where millions of flies found an oasis. Shoe repairs, barbershop, beauty parlors, tire repair, carenderias where people sat on stools having a meal of rice and some form of topping. It was the sheer ingenuity of commerce that amazed Bobby.

Once they had entered this busy area though, they became the center of attention. Many just unashamedly stared at them, but others came forward with big smiles on their faces, introduced themselves and either confessed to not having attended the previous evening or having been in the group. Those who had not been in attendance all stated that they had heard just how good the evening had been and promised they would attend on the following week.

They were jostled by many women all of whom were either holding the hand of, or gently pushing a child forward to take their hand and touch the back of it with their forehead.

As they were to soon learn, this was the form of blessing and respect shown by the young to the aged. Bobby was not that old, but his collar and position in their society was acknowledged by this action. Many invited them into their poor, but very clean abodes and they were offered glasses of soft drinks. After one such example of hospitality, outside Louie said, “Don’t accept any more, Bobby. I don’t see any toilets here and I am beginning to need a piss real bad.”

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Bobby’s bowels were also undergoing enlargement, and so they decided to call it a day and return to the house. By the time they arrived back, Mrs. Cruz had already prepared their lunch of very hot soup, rice and fish again. “I’m beginning to feel like a seal,” observed Louie. “Give her the night off and we will go and eat at the resort. I need a good red-blooded steak and fries.” Bobby was in full agreement with this statement.

The days were becoming hotter. Neither of them had mentioned to Uncle Jun about getting the water heated because they were now welcoming the cool water. After lunch, as was becoming usual, they parted ways and each went to their own quarters to have a nap and shower.

On the Friday evening, Uncle Jun picked them up in his car and drove them to the local cockpit for their first view of cock fighting. This sport, if once can describe it as such, had survived since the time of the Spanish occupation and was ardently followed by both the rich and the very poor. They entered the already packed arena and were hit by the volume of the noise. Everybody appeared to be shouting at once.

Bundles of bills were being tossed through the air as the ‘bookmakers’ either paid winnings or collected new bets.

In order that they could listen to the explanation of what was happening, Uncle Jun stood between them, shouting in each of their ears. “How do I know which one I am betting on?” shouted Louie. Jun explained the hand signals. “Yeah.

Got it,” shouted Louie. “But both chooks look exactly the same to me. How do I know which is mine?” Uncle Jun didn’t answer, just raised both hand palm up, bemused that Louie couldn’t tell the difference.

The cockerels fighting next were being held up for the hundreds of experts to judge who was the toughest. Both had long, curved knives strapped to where their natural 95

spur would have been had the strap holding the knives not concealed it. Following the instructions of Uncle Jun, both placed a bet. The ‘bookmaker’ caught the thrown money and then immediately dealt with another bet, and another.

“How does he know what we have bet?” asked Bobby. “He hasn’t written it down.”

“He has a fantastic memory,” said uncle Jun. “They have never been known to forget who wins and how much. They always pay with no problem.”

“It’s a pity all Filipinos aren’t like that,” observed Louie, but not loud enough for Jun to hear. A man took both cockerels, one in each hand, and appeared to introduce them to each other. Each time they were brought close to each other, both struggled and kicked, anxious to get on with the fight. Once he deemed them sufficiently aroused, he dropped both and stood back. The cheers went up to a deafening row, as there was a flurry of wings and the cockerels slashed at each other with their very sharp knives.

Within seconds, one was down, laying on its side, wounded.

The man quickly picked up the one still on its feet, then lifted the one lying down and tried to get it to stand. Three times it toppled over again on its side and the still kicking other bird was held aloft to declare it the winner to prolonged cheers from some, and groans from others. Both owners climbed into the ring to retrieve their birds.

“Quick,” shouted Jun. “Catch your winnings.” His warning was only just in time as the ‘bookmaker’ had thrown some peso bills at them all screwed into a ball.

They watched another half dozen fights and surprisingly only lost one bet. “This killing of birds is a lot more profitable than saving souls,” remarked Louie during one interlude.

“I feel a bit sorry for the bird owners,” said Bobby. “They really seem to care for their birds. Look how they smooth 96

them all of the time, and yet after each fight one of them has to go home to become chicken soup.”

Uncle Jun laughed. “Not all of them die,” he said. “If you have seen enough, on our way out I will show you.”

They made their way through the crowded stands to the gangway and went down the stairs to the ground.

Instead of exiting, however, they followed Jun around the inside of the building, walking under the stands until they came to an area that was crowded with people, most of whom appeared to holding and stroking a bird. Some were smoking and gently blowing smoke into the bird’s beak.

“That’s to calm them,” explained Jun. To one side though, two or three men were kneeling. “Over there,” directed Jun. They looked over the men’s shoulders and saw each of them sewing up the lacerations on some previous fighters using just a crude thread and large needle. The anxious owners kept up a jabber of Ilocano, inquiring as to just how serious the damage was.

“They had better not enter a cross-stitch competition,” observed Louie.

“You see?” asked Jun. “In a few weeks these birds will be ready to fight again, and probably worth betting on because they learn from their mistakes.”

“I bet they look forward to that,” Bobby said, sarcastically as he turned his head away from the spectacle. Considering that he was himself a Filipino, Bobby looked quite pale.

Sunday morning, in order to honor their agreement with Father Puigi, saw them driven to the church in order to attend mass. The usher immediately recognized them and showed them to the very front pew and on the center aisle. Father Puigi was taking no chances that their presence would not be observed by all. Just before the service began, the usher delivered them a note from Father Puigi. It 97

requested that directly after the service they proceed to his house and wait for him, and to leave by the side door.

“The cunning old coot doesn’t want us to mix with his congregation,” whispered Louie after he had read the note.

Bobby smiled.

The service was fairly standard. As he took the communion, Bobby felt a bit guilty that he had forgotten to attend confession. The homily had been short but to the point. Father Puigi had said he had heard that some of them were using contraceptives and were destined for the fires of hell. “Goodbye, old buddy,” whispered Louie, while Bobby covered his mouth with his hands as though in thought, but actually to prevent Father Puigi observing his smile. As the priest passed them in his procession towards the main door, they arose and went out of the adjacent side door into the sunlight. A path led directly to the house. When they arrived, an eye-fluttering Mia showed them to the terrace where an already opened bottle of wine stood on the table.

She poured each a glass. “Shouldn’t we await the father?” asked Bobby.

“No, sir,” she answered. “The father instructed me to give you a glass as soon as you arrived.” She turned to Louie and gave him a very big smile, then turned to go into the room, but pretended that she had spotted a piece of litter so bent from the waist to pick it up. In doing so she exposed a pair of very shapely legs and a quick white flash of panties.

Louie’s mouth dropped open and he almost dropped his glass. She stood, turned her head and smiled again, fully knowing what she had done and seemingly pleased with the reaction she had got.

“Jesus,” whooshed Louie. “I need a cold shower.”

“Down, boy,” smiled Bobby.

“Hey,” said Louie. “Don’t forget to tell the father that 98

we will not be here next Sunday. Remember your promise.”

“What excuse can I make?” asked Bobby.

“Tell him it is a meeting of the missionaries of the Philippines and they want to welcome you,” said Louie.

Only just in time, actually, because at that moment Father Puigi came beaming through the door.

“Don’t stand up,” he commanded. He then eagerly grabbed for the wine bottle and filled his glass. “Cheers, gentlemen,” he said, and then sat opposite them. “Mia,” he shouted. The effervescent maid came out onto the terrace, smiled again at Louie then turned to the priest. “Yes, father?”

“Some pica-pica, if you please, and one more bottle of wine. This will soon be gone, he said, replenishing all glasses. “Lovely girl,” observed the priest. “Unfortunately, she is destined to fall in love with some poor fisherman who will keep her pregnant year after year.”

“At least then she will have listened to your homily and will go to heaven,” said Louie. The priest looked at him slightly startled, then laughed out loud. “Oh, that nonsense,” he said. “I don’t agree with it, but it is my job.

The boss in Rome decreed it, but then he is not Italian, but in this business one has to be careful. One never knows who is sat in the congregation.”

“Do you mean that you believe we should encourage contraception?” asked Bobby.

“Of course we should,” laughed Father Luigi. “In this country they breed like rabbits. We tell them to control themselves, but honestly, if you had Mia in your bed, would you be able to control yourself?”

Just then, Mia appeared carrying a plate of sausage and cheese, smiling. Three pairs of eyes stared at her, and then followed her departure. “Next question?” retorted Louie, and they all laughed.

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“We Italians understand life so much better than our Polish-reared pope,” he said. “Did you know that under Pope Paul the Vatican Bank were the majority shareholders of the company that manufactured the pill in Italy?”

“You’re kidding me,” said Bobby.

“No. It is true,” said the priest, taking another sip. “In fact, before his mysterious death, Pope Paul was going to declare the use of the pill as ethical for all Catholics. He was going to name it the Catholic pill. Now, help yourself.”

They all reached for the tasty nibbles that had been set before them. “Now, Roberto,” said the priest. “I hear that you held a successful, if somewhat unconventional, Bible study group last week.”

“Unconventional, father?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” continued the father. “Your interpretations of the testaments appear a little inventive at times. I admit though, they are amusing.”

“I am sorry if you do not agree with them father,” murmured Bobby.

“Not at all,” said the beaming priest. “Carry on. I noticed seven more communicants this week that I believe you may have encouraged, plus my collection was up on last week.

So carry on your good work.”

They found that when Father Puigi was in good spirits, he was a very amusing man with is stories of life in and around San Fernando.

“At the rear of the house I keep some ducks. Only for the eggs of course, and sometimes I enter one or two in shows. A few of them have won prizes,” recounted the priest. “I rarely look at them because my houseboy takes care of them.”

“One day,” he continued. “One of my ducks was stolen.

I didn’t know. Then one of my flock, a loveable rogue called 100

Jon-Jon came to confession. After he had confessed to committing a sin, I asked his what the nature of the sin was.

He replied that he had stolen a duck and that he wanted to give it to me. Naturally, I was outraged and told him in no uncertain terms that I could not accept it and that he had to give it back to the owner. Then he had the cheek to tell me he had offered it back to the owner, who had told him he didn’t want it. At the time, I was unaware that the owner was me. I had refused to take it. I told him then that being the case that he could keep the duck and he was absolved of sin.” They all laughed loudly. “I found out about it, naturally, because everyone was laughing at me behind my back and no Filipino can ever keep a secret.”

“Except for those raised in America,” said Louie, hopefully.

Just before leaving, Bobby informed the father of their intended absence for the upcoming Sunday mass because they would be in Manila.

“I understand,” said the father, with a wink. “I was young myself once. You at least have not taken vows of celibacy, but I appreciate your discretion. What do the cursed English say? Never shit on your own doorstep. Si?” Bobby felt himself blushing. “Many thanks, father,” he said.

“I’ll get Mia to show you out,” smiled the priest. “Call it at attempt at mood setting.”

14

The Mission Grows During the early part of the week, Jun had delivered many more benches in anticipation of a bigger crowd at the Wednesday evening Bible study. “I love his confidence,” observed Louie. Together, Bobby and Louie had made a couple more trips into the barrio, and were beginning to 101

recognize people there. They both were beginning to enjoy it. “You know what?” asked Louie one day. “I’m beginning to think this missionary life is not so bad after all.”

They had earlier in the week sat and prepared a budget to send to Bobby’s father and a report that was sent to the Order of St. Martian’s in Los Angeles. Both were sent by e-mail and Bobby received a letter of praise in return from an obviously very pleased father who said he would study the budget but had telegraphed two thousand dollars to Jun anyway. Jun explained the high charges made by banks and handed him just over eighteen-hundred dollars. Bobby wanted to believe him, because even if he had deducted a small commission, his assistance was very useful.

On the Wednesday evening, Bobby, dressed in his formal outfit, peeped through the window into the garden.

Jun had been correct. There were at least double the number from the previous week, so the additional food that had been prepared would not be wasted. Louie had obtained a woven tray, one normally used for tossing rice grains and removing any grit, to act as the collection receptacle.

An excited Jun made the introduction with such enthusiasm it sounded more as though he was introducing the challenger in a boxing match. Bobby sailed into the garden accompanied by tumultuous applause. Once it had died down he started, “Last week, we read and discussed the birth of Jesus as written in the Book of St. Luke,” he said. “Many of you expressed disappointment that there was no mention of the magi, or three wise men. To clarify this, my reading this week will be from chapters one, two and three of the Book of St. Matthew.”

Bobby slowly read through the story of the three men from the east, following the star, who stopped off in Jerusalem 102

in order to ask King Herod as to the location of the King of the Jews. After which they found him in the stable, gave him presents before returning home. They didn’t report to Herod that they had located him, not believing that Herod also wanted to make obeisance to the baby. Herod was so scared that he ordered all boys below the age of two, in and around Bethlehem to be slain. God appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him to take the Mary and the baby to Egypt and stay there until he told them otherwise. This they did, and when told that Herod was dead, they went to Nazareth in Galillee. Then Bobby called for questions. There was a forest of hands. Bobby announced that he would start on the left of the back row, then go row by row to the front.

A man stood up, smiling. “Father,” he commenced. “I am confused. When Jesus was born, Joseph was not married to Mary, right?”

“That is correct,” answered Bobby.

“So,” continued the man. “In that case Jesus was a bas-, sorry father, Jesus was illegitimate. Right?”

“I don’t believe you can be illegitimate if God is your father,” said Bobby.

“Yeah,” continued the man. “But we only have Mary’s word for that.”

“God told Joseph,” answered Bobby.

“Hey,” said the man holding out both hands palm up.

“If Joseph wants to believe it, then that was his business.

The point is that they went to the temple where Jesus was admitted into the Jewish faith. Right?”

“Correct,” answered Bobby, wondering where all of this was leading.

“So,” continued the man. “How come that when my daughter had a baby and wouldn’t tell us who was the father, that Father Puigi refused to baptize him?”

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Bobby took a big breath. He knew from the conversations he had in the barrio with many mothers that Father Puigi did refuse to baptize illegitimate children, and so the mothers had to take them to the adjoining parish where the younger priest was more liberal in his thinking.

“You must realize that everybody perceived that Joseph was the natural father of Jesus,” said Bobby.

“But he still was not married to Mary,” persisted the questioner.

“If God is the father, one cannot be illegitimate,” stated Bobby emphatically. “Next?”

“Hey, father,” said the next man to stand. “The three wise men. They came from the east. Where actually did they come from?”

“Some say it was probably Babylon,” answered Bobby, on firmer ground.

“Where was that?” persisted the questioner.

“It was in what we now call Iraq,” answered Bobby.

“So,” he continued. “Were they Muslims?”

“No,” answered Bobby. “Muslims are followers of the prophet Mohammed, who was to be born six hundred years after.”

“Then, what were they?” the questioner asked.

“We are not told. Next?” said Bobby. This was getting more and more difficult.

“Father,” said a woman, standing. “Last week, Luke didn’t mention the wise men. This week, Matthew doesn’t mention the shepherds. Why not?”

“Well,” said Bobby. “You must remember that these stories were only written many years after they actually happened. Both Matthew and Luke only wrote down the tales that had been verbally passed from father to son for nearly one hundred years, so obviously one family will 104

forget something, while another forgets something else, but remembers that which the other forgot. Next?”

“Yes,” said another standing man. “Luke never mentioned King Herod, either.” It seemed almost an accusation, as though Bobby was at fault.

“Well,” said Bobby. “The three wise men and Herod are interlinked. Herod had the infants killed because of what the three wise men told him.”

“Hey,” said another. “This Herod sounds like our expresident Marcos. He was smart too. He would have asked the wise men to tell him where his opposition was hiding, and then gone and bumped them off.” Everybody laughed at this remark.

“And Joseph was smart too,” shouted another. “Knowing that this Herod come Marcos was after him, he quickly got himself a green card in Egypt, just as my cousin fled to your country, father.” There was laughter again.

“I don’t get it,” said a man in the second row. “Last week this Luke says that Joseph was living in Nazareth and travelled to Bethlehem. Now this Matthew says that Joseph was living in Bethlehem, travelled to Egypt and returned, eventually living in Nazareth. Who is right?”

“As I said before, the stories were written well after the events, and they relied on memory,” said Bobby. “Things change when passed by word of mouth from person to person.” Bobby suddenly had an inspiration. “Let us do an experiment.” He said.

He pointed to a man sat on the far left of the front row.

“Pretend I am an general in the army at the front line. I need to get an urgent message to headquarters, but there are no telephones or radios. I am going to whisper a message to you. I want you to whisper that same message to the person sat on your right. He will then whisper that same message 105

to the person on his right and so on until it reaches the end of the line. Let’s see what will happen.”

Bobby stepped away from the lectern, walked to the person he had pointed to, bent down and whispered in his left ear. The man smiled then turned to his right and whispered in that man’s ear. As the message was passed, Bobby returned to the lectern. Once the last in the row had received the whispered message Bobby turned to the first man. “Stand up and repeat my message to you. The man stood. “You said, ‘Send men in trucks. I am going to advance.”

“Correct,” said Bobby, then pointed to the last man.

“What was the message received by you?” he asked.

The man was smiling broadly. “The message I received, father was, ‘Send many bucks. I am going to a dance.” The whole group collapsed laughing. Bobby held up his hands.

“Now you see just how things can change when passed by word of mouth,” he said. The group broke into loud, spontaneous applause.

“Now,” said Bobby. “Before you eat let me explain that I will not be attending mass this coming Sunday because I have to go to a meeting in Manila. That is no excuse for any of you to not attend and make your peace with God. Our next Bible study will be the same time next week.

Refreshments are now served.”

There was a great deal of applause before the whole group moved to where the food was being served. Louie carried the straw platter into the lounge, and then returned to join Bobby in mingling. Everyone they spoke to had enjoyed themselves and looked forward to next week. “I understand you much more than I understand Father Puigi,” had been said by many.

“Once everyone had departed, Bobby slumped back 106

exhausted in one of the lounge chairs, making the most of the breeze from the overhead fan.

“Hey,” said Louie. “P293 this week. It’s getting better.”

“Another P300 and it will cover the cost of the food they eat, but still won’t feed us,” observed Bobby. “We re going to have to think of other ways to make money.”

“Maybe we will get inspiration at the weekend,” suggested Louie.

“What?” asked Bobby. “To open a whorehouse?”

“Don’t knock it,” answered Louie. “They make money, provide employment and give others a zest in life.”

Bobby laughed. “Just get the supper ready while I shower and change. I’m soaking with sweat.”

“From the temperature or the questions?” asked Louie, with a grin on his face.

“Both, actually,” admitted Bobby. “These people are no dummies. I am going to have to read books about the period to just keep up with their questions.”

“You did very well, Bobby,” said Louie. “Now, get your shower and we will get a little drunk.”

“Great idea,” said Bobby, rising.

15

A Very Dirty Weekend The following morning, when Mrs. Cruz came to clear the table following their breakfast, she handed Bobby a sealed envelope, :I almost forgot, sir,” she said. “Father Puigi asked me to give you this.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cruz,” answered Bobby as he tore open the envelope and extracted the single sheet of handwritten notepaper.

Louie, watching Bobby from the other side of the table noticed a smile. “What does the cunning old coot want you to do now?” he asked.

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“Here,” said Bobby. “Read it yourself, but tear it up straight away. We do not want Mrs. Cruz to see it.”

Louie spread the sheet on the table. It read: Dear Brother Roberto, I hear that your latest effort at explaining our Bible was most amusing and I am pleased that you accepted my advice to employ a little show business.

May I suggest that you move your meeting this weekend from Manila to Angeles City, which is much closer, has everything that Manila can offer but is far less expensive.

Go to Fields Avenue where there are many hotels.

May I hope that my privately expressed view that the use of contraceptives is one shared by both yourself and your secretary. Certain forms of contraceptives not only prevent unwanted pregnancy, but also inhibit the spread of diseases.

Yours in Christ, Puigi (Fr.) Louie laughed out loud. “The old coot sure has got you sussed, Bobby,” “I think he has both of us worked out,” answered Bobby.

“Now. Tear that up quickly.”

Louie complied by tearing it into ever-smaller pieces.

“Where is Angeles City?” he asked. “Is it north or south of here?”

“I’m not sure,” said Bobby, rising. “There is a map of the Philippines on the wall of the study. Let’s go and have a look.”

In the study, they quickly located Angeles City. It was south of San Fernando, on the way to Manila.

“It sure is closer,” said Louie. “We would probably save at least two hours each way on the bus.”

“Why don’t we give it a try?” asked Bobby.

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Although they had decided otherwise, Bobby still informed Mrs. Cruz that their intended destination was Manila. Jaime couldn’t understand as to why they would not have him drive them, but preferred to take the bus. In fact, when he drove them to the bus depot after they had finished lunch, he was quite sulky about it. They had discussed it, of course, but decided that the convenience was not worth the gossip that would be spread when their true destination was discovered.

There were not many on the bus at that stage. More would join it during the trip. They settled in their seats and as the bus slowly made its way through the traffic to the edge of town, the bus conductor came to collect their fares.

“Two to Angeles City, please,” said Bobby.

“We don’t go into Angles City,” said the conductor. “You have to get off in Dau and catch a tricycle.”

“Are there cabs?” asked Louie.

“No,” said the conductor. “Only tricycles.”

“Jesus,” commented Louie. “And he said it was the same as Manila. No cabs. Only tricycles.”

“Do you still want to go there or shall we stay on to Manila?” asked Bobby.

“Hell no,” said Louie. “Let’s at least try it. After all, it is almost a divine recommendation.”

Bobby laughed. ”And we gain at least two hours, is what you are thinking.” Louie just smiled and laid back his head against the backrest while Bobby paid for the tickets.

As the bus progressed, more and more people joined it.

Between stops, however, the bus driver seemed to think that he was attempting a new world land-speed record, so sleep was impossible. “This guy is crazy,” observed Louie.

Nevertheless, it took just under three and a half hours to Dau, where the bus pulled into a bus station. Grabbing 109

their bags from the overhead rack, they shuffled along the gangway and down the steps. The sun hit them and it was very hot. This combined with the diesel fumes being given off by idling buses and the general dust of the place made it seem like an unpleasant oven. The smoke from the vendors barbequing sticks that contained small pieces of some form of meat didn’t help.

The made their way through the crowd back to the road. A line of tricycles were there so they approached the first. With great difficulty, Bobby climbed into the cramped sidecar while Louie sat sidesaddle in the motorbikes seat.

“Fields Avenue,” ordered Louie.

“Where on Fields Avenue?” asked the driver, kicking the machine alive. “It is a very long road.”

“We need a hotel,” explained Louie.

“I will take you to the Orchid. It is the best,” said the driver, moving out. “A lot of foreigners stay there, but they also accept Filipinos.”

They were now in heavy traffic. It wasn’t the volume though that made it move so slow, but the run-down jeepneys, which were plentiful in numbers, stopping just about anywhere to either pick up or off load passengers.

“Why can’t they stop along the side of the road?” asked a frustrated Louie.

The time in the traffic was not long, however, as when the reached a small sign indicating Clark, the ex-USA airforce base, the tricycle turned off and ran between two parks that appeared to be in dire need of a litter collection.

The colored plastic bags were scattered everywhere, giving the appearance of flowers on the mud-colored grass. Less that a kilometer down this road and the tricycle turned into a short small road that linked the Clark access road with Fields Avenue. A quick left then a right hand turn into a 110

side street and they were outside of a small hotel with the sign Orchid displayed.

Bobby eased his way out of the cabin, pleased that the journey had been so short because his bum had taken a sever battering. “How much?” asked Louie.

“One hundred pesos,” said the driver, with indifference.

“One hundred pesos for a five minute drive?” shouted Louie. “Are you goddamn crazy?”

Bobby noticed other waiting tricycle drivers leave their machines and start slowly to move towards them. “Louise,” he said with urgency in his voice. “Pay the man.” Louise looked up and immediately assessed the situation. “Here,” he said, handing the bill. “Take it and piss off.” The driver just smiled. “Our first lesson in Angeles City,” said Louie.

“Walk.”

They entered the hotel from the side and reached a desk. A pretty girl was behind the desk reading a magazine.

She looked up with a slight frown upon her face. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Bobby. “We were wondering if you had any rooms available?”

The frown immediately left her face as she heard Bobby’s unmistakable American accent. “Oh,” she said. “Are you balikbayans?”

“No,” answered Louie with a smile. “We’re Catholics.”

She laughed.

“No,” she said. “I mean are you visiting from America.

You know. Returning home? Balikbayans?”

“I guess we are,” said Bobby. “Unfortunately, we have never been taught the language.”

“That is sad,” she said, checking her computer screen.

“How long do you intend to stay?”

“Just three nights,” said Bobby. “We will move on 111

Monday morning, early.”

“Well,” she said. “You are in luck. I have only just received two cancellations. They are for the new section though.”

“What’s the difference between the new section and the old section?” asked Bobby.

“Three hundred pesos a night,” she answered, laughing.

“No. Seriously,” she continued. “The new section has modern rooms with all facilities including air-conditioning and they overlook the swimming pool.”

“And the room rate is?” asked Louie.

“Twelve hundred pesos a night. No extras for a guest,” she said.

Louie did a quick calculation and couldn’t believe the result. Less than $25. “We’ll take them,” he said, quickly.

The girl slipped them each a registration form. “Will you be paying by credit card?” she asked.

“No,” said Bobby. “Cash. In dollars if you like. We’ll pay for the rooms in advance” “Fine,” said the girl. “We will also require you to deposit with us $100 each in order you can sign for room service and in the bar and restaurant. Any unused credit will be returned to you when you check out. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” said Bobby, removing the bill from his wallet.

She carefully issued them the two receipts each and then rang a bell. A young man appeared and she gave his the keys. “Leon will show you your rooms,” she said. Leon picked up the two bags and walked into a dark corridor.

They followed. This was obviously the old section. Leon shouldered open a door at the end of the corridor and they passed through into the open, where they could see a few couples lounging around the swimming pool. The girls appeared extremely young compared to the age of the men.

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They mounted the external stairway and found themselves on a long, tiled verandah onto which the room doors opened. A few steps along this and Leon stopped, lowered both bags, and opened a door. Leaving one bag outside, he entered and they both stepped into the room. Leon showed them how the room key tag opened the electrical circuits, and he switched on the air-conditioner. The room was large and airy, with modern furnishings. Leon showed them the adequate bathroom.

“Hey,” said Louie. “This is great, and as that is my bag he has placed on the stand, Leon has decided that this room is mine.”

Leon then turned and went out of the door, and picked up Bobby’s bag. “See you in a bit,” said Bobby, following. He only had to go a few paces, as his room was just next door.

Leon unlocked it and inserted the room tag and turned on the air-conditioner. A quick glance showed that it was exactly the same as Louie’s room. “Don’t bother about the tour,” said Bobby, and pulled a P50 note from his pocket and handed it to a now smiling Leon.

Without bothering to even unzip his bag, he returned to Louie’s room. The door was open and Louie had thrown himself on his back onto the bed and lay there with his hands behind his head. He smiled as Bobby entered. “Just testing it to see if it is strong enough to stand up to the punishment it is going to get for the next three nights,” he said.

“Shall we see where we are while there is still some daylight?” asked Bobby.

“Why not,” said Louie, hauling himself off the bed and slipping into his shoes. “After all,” he said. “Reconnaissance is the secret of any successful attack.”

He removed his key and closed the door, and then they both went to reception, handed in their keys and 113

meandered out into the road. The sun was still up but it was a little cooler now that a slight breeze had sprung up. They noticed a number of nightclubs in the immediate vicinity of the hotel. “At least we won’t have to be robbed by a tricycle driver,” observed Louie. They walked the short distance to Fields Avenue itself.

“Christ,” exclaimed Louie. “This place should have been pulled down years ago.” It did indeed look dreadful in the light of day. The buildings were old, decrepit and in dire need of paint. The bars and restaurants were on one side, while the other had very small temporary dwellings, many of which served as businesses. They slowly walked down the road, being careful not to trip over the uneven pavement. They came to a long frontage that did not have glass, but rather dirty fly-screening behind which they could see many white faces looking out with a drink on the ledge in front of them. Music at a reasonable volume came from the place.

“Let’s go in here and have a beer,” suggested Bobby. “I am parched.” They entered through swing doors and saw that the place was huge, and for this time of day, fairly crowded. High tables were fixed to the floor, but all had stools both sides of them. They made their way to the only one that appeared totally empty. As soon as they sat down, a waitress, whose height only just allowed her to peer over the tabletop appeared, and they ordered two beers.

“She’s a goddamn midget,” observed Louie. On looking around though, he observed none of the staff appeared to be very tall. The service was efficient though and soon they were taking deep swallows of very cold beer. “Great,” said Louie, setting down his mug. The staff here remind me of that old joke,” he said.

“What old joke?” asked Bobby, knowing he would 114

regret it. Louie’s jokes were not the best.

“Well,” said Louie, unperturbed about his reputation.

“There was this midget who married a model. After they had been married for a year a friend asked him his sex life was going. He said it was okay, but he did have some problems. When asked what they were, he said, ‘Well. When our noses are touching, my toesies are in. When our toesies are touching, my nosies is in, and when I am in, I don’t have anyone to talk to.’ Get it?” asked Louie, laughing loudly at his own joke, while Bobby just smiled.

An old man, carrying his beer approached the table.

“Mind if I grab a seat?” he asked in a strong Australian accent.

“Go ahead,” said Louie, with a wave of his hand. The man’s eyes were a bit bloodshot, and he had to keep wiping tears from his face. He had obviously been drinking for many hours. He sat down. “Thanks,” he said. “New in town are youse?”

“Yeah,” said Bobby. “Arrived this afternoon.”

“First time then, is it?” asked the man. “By the way, my names Frank,” he said, holding out a large hand. They both shook his hand and introduced themselves. “Yeah,” said Frank. “You can ask anyone in this town. They all know old Frank. I’ve been here for over twenty years.”

A waitress approached. “Can we get you a drink, Frank?” asked Louie. “Gee, mate,” said Frank, hastily draining his glass. “Your blood is worth bottling. Sure I will have a drink with you.” The drinks were ordered.

“Where are you staying?” asked Frank.

“The Orchid,” answered Bobby.

“Top place that,” agreed Frank. “You going to find yourself a little chick tonight?”

“I hope so,” said Louie. “Are there many to choose 115

from?”

“Thousands, mate,” said Frank. “Every bar along here and off of this road. Beautiful young chicks that will keep you going all night.”

“That is the problem,” said Bobby. “The few we have seen all appear to be very young.”

“They are that,” agreed Frank. “They all have got birth certificates that say they are eighteen, but most have got to wait a few years before they will reach it.”

“But it is against the law. Isn’t it Frank?” asked Bobby.

“It’s against the law all right,” agreed Frank, sipping his beer. “But you are okay providing you have bought her out of the bar because you have no need to believe that any bar owner would employ her if she were under-aged. Just don’t go picking up a young Sheila from the street because then you could be in trouble. Big trouble.”

Frank,” asked Louie. “What’s the score in the bars?”

“Mate,” answered Frank. “If you see a chick you fancy she will sit with you and if you’re not a mean bastard, then buy her a couple of drinks to get to know her, like. If she makes your trousers twitch, and she is agreeable, then get her to fetch the mamasan. She will tell you how much it is for all night. Not like in Manila where you pay one amount to get her out of the bar then another sum in the morning.

Here it is all-inclusive. You pay the mamasan and, if she has been a good fuck, tip the girl in the morning, but remember, she gets her pay from what you pay the bar.”

“All night?” queried Louie. “She stays until the morning?”

“That’s right, mate,” concurred Frank. “For a young and vigorous guy like you that is a bargain, because you might have four or five for your money. Once you get to my age you’re lucky to get it up once even if you take a bucket of 116

Viagra.”

Louie was finding Frank’s wisdom and knowledge interesting. “Have another beer, Frank.”

“Make it a rum and coke, will you mate,” said Frank. “It costs less than beer, anyway.”

Once their drinks arrived Louie prompted Frank for more information. “Where are the best clubs to go to, Frank?”

“Their all bloody good, mate,” answered Frank. “Some are better than others, but stick to the ones on the main drag or those close to your hotel at first. That is until you find you feet. I don’t recommend you go beyond the end of the road that parallels Fields in front of your hotel though, because the clubs there in White Swallow Street are for poofters.”

“White Swallow Street?” asked Louie.

“Well,” answered Frank. “It’s real name is San Lorenzo Street, but we call it White Swallow because that is where the blow-job joints are. Get it? Blow job? White Swallow?”

They did indeed “get it,” and they laughed along with Frank. “I mean,” he continued. “You can always get a blow job from any of the girls in the bars or from the massage parlors. At least they strip off first and you know it is a girl.

In White Swallow Street though, a lot of the clubs and the blow job joints are filled with transvestites. Mind you, some of them look better than women, but there, I’m no poofter and I don’t intend to become one.”

“Are most of the girls clean, Frank?” asked Louie. “You know. Free of disease?”

“Mate,” said Frank. “They are all supposed to be tested every couple of weeks, but a P20 note would give them a clean sheet anyway. Just don’t take the chance. Use a rubber.”

“What?” asked Louie. “A condom, you mean?”

“Yeah, mate,” said Frank. “Not for a blow job, of course.

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The only thing you can get from a blow job is satisfaction.”

They all laughed. This Frank was a card for sure.

“Frank,” asked Bobby. “What if I think the girls in the bars are too young. Are there bars with older girls?”

“There are plenty of older girls, those say between twenty and thirty,” answered Frank. “You can usually find those in the massage parlour. They have had their days dancing naked on a stage. They make good money sitting around waiting and they feel safer because most of them have regulars who are married and only want short time, see? As long as the girl thinks you are safe, then she will go back to the hotel with you, but you pay the joint for the massage, but her separately in the morning. Costs a bit more, but they are experienced.”

As they left the place, darkness had fallen and the difference was amazing. The whole road seemed to be lit by neon signs that hid the grottyness of daytime. Beautiful girls stood outside every bar enticing passing men to enter.

Music emitted from every door.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Bobby.

“Here’s the plan,” said Louie with authority. “We’ll make our way back to the hotel, but just have one drink in a couple of bars on the way. Then, we decide whether we eat in the hotel or that place Frank told us of, almost opposite.

What was it called?”

“Black Jack’s,” answered Bobby.

“Yeah,” said Louie. “Black Jack’s. Frank says they do a great steak there and it is cheap. After we have eaten, we seriously attack the bars and get ourselves a bird for the night. If we don’t fancy anything there, we will have a massage. Sound okay?”

“Sounds great,” said Bobby. “Let’s go.”

They tried three bars on their way back, and almost 118

stayed in one where the girls almost attacked them. Most bars were virtually empty at the early stage of the evening because they would not really start jumping until about midnight.

Once they reached the hotel, the lure of the lights of Black Jack’s drew them across the street and they mounted the spiral stairway to the restaurant. There, they tucked into huge rump steaks, a mountain of fries with a side order or salad with Italian dressing, plus a bottle of wine for a cost of just over $10 each. “Old father bunloaf was right,” said Louie. “This is certainly cheaper than Manila and probably better.”

Feeling sated, they made their way along the main road, hopping after a couple of drinks from bar to bar.

Because their stomachs were full, they could no longer drink beer, and had switched to bourbons. “We had better watch out for brewer’s droop,” giggled Bobby in one club.

“Remember your mission,” said Louie, in a voice mocking a commentator. “It is to lower your excessive sperm count.”

They both laughed drunkenly to the puzzlement of the two girls sat with them. Surprisingly, the more they drank, the older the girls appeared to get.

“To hell with this,” suddenly said Louie. “Either we go for a massage now, or I am going to take – what’s your name honey?”

“Apple,” she replied.

“Yeah,” said Louie. “Or I am going to take Apple here to be my lawful bedded wife.”

“No need to get massage,” said Apple. “I can give you good massage, especially here,” she said, grabbing the already erect Louie. “That is it,” said Louise. “Fetch the mamasan.

Bobby cast drunken eyes on the girl sat on his lap. She 119

seemed very pretty with a great deal of Chinese in her. She had small breasts, lovely almond-shaped eyes and a cute behind. She was smiling at him while her arms were around his neck, showing pearl-like teeth. “How about you?” asked Bobby. “Do you want to come with me?” In answer she squealed with delight, left his lap and ran to the mamasan, then waved as she went through the curtain. “Was that a yes or no?” asked Bobby in bemusement. “That was a yes,” said a smiling Louie. “She has just gone to get dressed. I have already paid her bar fine anyway. If you didn’t want her, then I was going to have both. It’s only ten and I cannot wait any longer. My balls are busting.”

Bobby was also aware at the tightness in his trousers and the excitement he felt. In spite of him being one himself, he had never slept with a Filipina and it was going to be interesting to how it would turn out. The girls returned to their table, now dressed in street clothing accompanied by many cat calls from the other girls. Bobby drew in a breath.

The girl he was taking, but yet to know her name, looked simply stunning in her tight jeans, high heels and top that showed her belly button. She had donned a pair of large gold-hoop earrings that gave her an eastern appearance of mystery. The boys stood up and ushered the two girls out of the door. On the pavement, each held the arm of each in a possessive manner, one that clearly informed other girls stood outside of clubs that these two were taken. The group made their way to the hotel. At the reception, his lady, whose name he had discovered was Peaches, whispered to him asking him if he had condoms in the room. He shook his head. She spoke to the receptionist in Tagalog, and a brown paper bag was handed to both Louie and himself.

With his hands, Bobby could feel that there was many more than just one single item.

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As a group, they climbed the stairs, said their good nights and each couple entered their rooms. Bobby closed the door, while Peaches lifted each foot behind her to remove her shoes. “Shall we have a shower first?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sure,” said Bobby, not sure as to what he should be doing.

“Okay,” said Peaches, smiling at him. And pulled the top over her head. She then put her hands behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting it slip to the floor exposing her small, but pert breasts with the dark brown auroras. Bobby just stood there watching, feeling himself once more rising to the occasion. Peaches undid the belt and top button of her jeans, and then unzipped them. She pushed them down to her ankles. She was wearing yellow cotton panties that blended so well with the color of her skin. She fell back on the bed with her legs in the air. “Help me,” she pleaded.

Bobby moved around the bed and taking her jeans in his hands, pulled them until, inside-out, they parted from her body. With no show of embarrassment at all, Peaches then stood up and bending over, lowered her panties to the floor and stepped out of them. She stood there smiling. As much as he tried to avoid it, Bobby could not help his eyes being drawn to where a narrow band of black pubic hair showed the way to her pussy. How different from the bush sported by most American and Mexican girls. “Do you want me to help you undress?” she said moving towards him. Bobby’s breathing had almost stopped. Peaches slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, starting at the top and slowly moving down. Using toes on heels, Bobby slipped out of his shoes and socks. Once she had removed the shirt, she slowly unbuckled his trousers, then slid down the zip and let them fall to the floor. Looking all the time into her wonderful eyes, Bobby stepped out of them, She looked at 121

his boxer shorts with their tell-tale bulge. “You are a big boy for a Filipino,” she said, and stooping down, she pulled the shorts down revealing his aching member. She stood and took his hand as though he was a small boy and walked him to the bathroom. There, while he stood helplessly by, just admiring her petite body, she adjusted the water, donned the shower cap provided by the hotel, and pulled him gently with her into the shower. She soaped him thoroughly and handed him the soap to reciprocate. His hands stayed a while between her legs, amazed at her smallness. Once the soap had been washed off, she turned off the shower and began to towel him dry. As she went lower, she took his penis gently in her mouth and moved a few times teasingly before moving her head back. Bobby was feeling physical pain from his erection. He had never known it so hard.

Once dry, she led him back to the bed and had him lie on his back. From the brown paper bag she removed a condom and opened the pack. Then, Bobby couldn’t believe his eyes as she placed in her mouth. With a finger and thumb, she stood his penis vertically, then lowered her head, and using her mouth, rolled on the sheath. She smiled at him again, then leaned forward and they kissed long and hard, each exploring the others mouth with their tongues.

Bobby was close to committing rape, when she suddenly straddled him. “Me first,” she said, raising herself, grabbing his member to steer it into the right position and slowly lowered herself onto it. Bobby gasped. She was holding each of his arms by the wrist, spread-eagled alongside the pillow.

Leaning forward to keep the hold, she raised herself as much as possible and with her teeth gritted and eyes closed started to rock backwards and forwards, slowly at first. As her breathing started to come faster, so did her movements until she was almost in a frenzy, then with a cry escaping 122

from her lips, her eyes opened showing her eyeballs raised looking heavenwards. She stopped and then fell forward onto Bobby’s chest, panting heavily. Bobby could stand it no more. He felt that his balls were about to burst. Moving slightly to the side, he managed, without separating their connection, to turn her onto her back. Raising himself on his knees, he began to pump in and out. “Slowly,” she said.

“Slowly.” He felt her draw her knees towards her chest and then she put her two feet over his shoulder, one each side of his head, raising herself until he could get every last bit of his shaft into her. Moving slowly now, but with increasing rhythm, they moved together faster and faster until just at the second of his own orgasm, she also cried out with pleasure, having come herself again. Bobby collapsed with his head alongside hers. This had never happened to him before, a mutual climax. He felt both relieved and indeed proud. He left himself inside her, feeling his organ slowly shrink, until it slipped out of her by itself, without him moving.

“That was wonderful,” said Peaches. “You are a good lover.”

“Nothing to do with me,” wheezed Bobby. “It is you.

You are an excellent teacher.” Peaches giggled with pleasure.

Bobby felt the need to relieve himself, so he got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He removed the condom and put it into the toilet bowl. Once he had urinated, he flushed the bowl, but the condom stubbornly refused to disappear, just lying there floating on the surface.

“That’s no good,” said Peaches who had quietly followed him. “Use the brush to fish it out and put it in the bin.”

“But the cleaning staff will notice it,” protested Bobby.

Peaches laughed. “You are a funny man. Everybody in this hotel fucks girls every night. What we must do is make sure 123

that there are many condoms in the bin so the staff will look at you with respect.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Bobby. “Although after that, I am not sure I will be able to again. Peaches smiled again.

“Just have another shower and I promise you, you will,” she said, stepping past him and opening the faucets.

They returned to the bed. Once again, Bobby lay on his back and Peaches straddled him. “It’s no good, Peaches,” said Bobby. “I’m not hard yet.”

“Good,” said Peaches, moving her body up, then straddling him above the face. He had a clear view of her cute little pussy, her little pink clitoris and the small hole that had just given him so much pleasure. She slowly lowered herself onto his face. “Now,” she ordered. “Kiss me. Lick Peaches, Suck me.” Bobby felt the wetness and smelled the faint odor and began to gently lick her and suck at her clitoris and occasionally inserting his tongue as far as it would go into her vagina. He felt himself getting an erection, although not a strong one.

“Wait,” said Peaches, rising from his face. She turned herself around and lowered herself again. Now he was staring along the crack of her bottom, licking and kissing.

Slowly, she leaned herself forward, and still moving her own rump to get maximum pleasure, took his penis into her mouth moving her tongue over the head in an expert fashion. Bobby increased his own activity as his own excitement increased. Her movements over his face were now more vigorous and her pubic hair was beginning to make his lips and the area around his mouth sore, but he didn’t care. He felt himself explode again and she screamed.

Her relaxing meant he had the whole weight on his face, but what was worse, his nose and mouth was now covered by her body and he couldn’t breath. He moved her buttocks 124

up and over. She raised herself and turned, opening her mouth so that he could see his own emissions, She smiled and swallowed, then leaning forward, she brought her lips to his, whispering, “I want to taste my pussy,” and started to kiss him. He couldn’t believe it himself, but he was getting yet another erection. Peaches felt behind her, took another condom from the side table, extracted it from the packet and this time rolled it on with her hand. “This time, you fuck me,” she said. “Make it slowly.” She knelt on all fours on the bed. “From behind,” she instructed. “Not in the bum as I am a virgin there. I want to watch in that mirror.”

As Bobby moved on his knees behind her and guided himself into her, he too looked at the mirror. She was right.

They could both watch themselves fucking. Bobby started to pump. It went on and on as he was finding it difficult to reach a climax. Before he did, both were sweating profusely.

After, they showered yet again, and then snuggled up to each other to sleep. Never had Bobby experienced sex like this.

At about three-thirty in the morning Bobby awoke. His arm in which Peaches was cradled, had gone to sleep. He gently tried to remove it, but Peaches hand immediately went to his crotch, and the mere touch gave him an almost instant erection. He lazily turned to get her on her back.

Even though she appeared still asleep, her hand groped for a condom and handed to him. He opened the packet and rolled it on. “Slowly,” she said in a dream-like voice. He pumped away until he had his satisfaction. Only towards his climax did Peaches show any signs that she was awake.

He removed the condom, left it on the bedside table, and turned his back to her. He needed sleep.

They made love again in the morning. He telephoned Louie who told him that they had ordered breakfast by 125

room service. They arranged to meet in the coffee shop at eleven. Once they had breakfasted, Peaches said she would have to go home. Watching her dress was almost as exciting as the reverse of the previous night. When they entered the coffee shop, Apple and Louie were already there, acting like lovers, with hand holding and silly grins. Apple said she would also have to go home, but would return by three and bring her bathing costume. “I wonder how old they are?” asked Louise as they waved them off. “If Apple is anything like Peaches, I would say about fifty years in experience.”

Louie laughed. “It was the best sex I have had anywhere, and there is more to come.”

“I don’t know about you, but I could do with a beer and then something to eat,” said Bobby.

“Fine by me,” answered Louie. “But I really do not want to go to a girlie bar at this time of day. I thought I would never say it, but I need a rest from sex.”

“I hear that there is an English pub almost opposite,” said Bobby. “The food there is basic but good.”

“I’ve seen it from the balcony,” said Louie. “Roy’s Bar.” “Then let’s go.”

Outside it was getting very hot, but fortunately it was less than a one hundred meter walk. They entered the cool, darkened bar where most of the light came from the pool table, and sat at the bar. The beers were served in glasses removed from a freezer and so had a layer of ice on the outside. This made the already cold beer even colder and they both drank the first thirstily.

“The first for thirst and the second for enjoyment,” said Louie, pushing his glass forward to have it refilled.

It turned out to be a friendly place whose customers appeared to be mainly foreign and regulars who lived in the city. It was not long before they were brought into the often 126

hilarious conversation at the bar. They ordered the special of the day, but remained at the bar to eat it. One of the poolplaying girls provided by the pub to challenge customers invited Louie for a game. It did not last long though, and Louie bought her the customary drink for her services and victory. In this manner, a pleasant couple of hours passed until they returned to the hotel to await the two girls. They changed into their swimming gear and found some shade by the pool. By three-thirty they doubted as to whether the girls would return at all, but they needn’t have bothered about that. What they hadn’t realized was that this area employed hundreds of girls with a ratio of them to possible customers being about 100:1. Once a girl had a ‘boyfriend’ they clung to him like a leech because it might be weeks before they got another.

Just before four, the two girls entered the pool area through the garden gate. They explained that they had to visit the club first and pay them their commission for the night to come, otherwise they would lose their jobs. Both Bobby and Louie recompensed the girls with the fourhundred pesos they claimed to have given the bar, then gave them the room keys so that they could change into their swimming gear. They came down the stairs in their bikinis looking like film stars. Soon they were all frolicking in the pool, the shallow end of course, because even though the Philippines consists of over 7,000 islands, few Filipinos ever learned to swim.

After an exhausting afternoon, when the sun started to set, the couples returned to their rooms for a shower and change. Bobby wanted to have sex in the shower, but Peaches begged him to wait until the night because she claimed to be still sore.

They went out to an Italian restaurant to have dinner, 127

then the girls insisted they all visit a disco they knew where they drank and danced the rest of the evening away. The night was again full of lovemaking.

On the Monday morning, after checking out, the two girls went with them to the bus station and waited with them until the bus left. They sank wearily back into their seats. “Well,” said Louie. “You’ve got to give it to Father Puigi. He seems to know the Philippines.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “Back to the Bible.” He closed his eyes and nothing was said until the bus stopped at the comfort break, where they purchased and consumed two cans of beer each. The bus arrived in San Fernando at lunchtime, but rather than take the chance of food being ready for them, they noticed a McDonald’s and satisfied their hunger with cheeseburgers and fries. They then caught a tricycle to the house.

16

An Expansion Is Planned After their orgiastic weekend, returning to the pious life was at first very depressing. After taking a much-needed afternoon nap, they were visited by Uncle Jun, who was assuming the post of missionary manager. He accepted their offer of a cold beer and they sat on the verandah shaded from the late afternoon sun to discuss progress and plan for the future.

“You are doing very well, Roberto,” said an enthusiastic Jun. “With what I am hearing, there will be even more people this week. Soon the garden will not be able to hold them.”

“That’s good to know,” said Bobby. “But with the collections so far, we certainly cannot afford to rent space.”

“We won’t have to,” said Jun. “I have spoken to my friend Councilor Fernandez and he has assured me that 128

the council will have no objection to our using the land opposite.”

“Nice setting,” observed Louie.

“We have enough members now to get volunteers to build a small stage and put up lights,” said Jun. “Where would we get the electricity from?” asked Louie.

“The street lighting circuit passes overhead along the road,” answered Jun. “We will just tap into that.”

Won’t we have to get permission?” asked Bobby.

“Not in the Philippines,” smiled Jun. “Everybody borrows electricity from time to time, and this is for a good cause.”

Bobby also smiled. Yes, things were different in the Philippines.

Jun squirmed a bit in his seat. “But Roberto,” he said.

“Yes, Uncle Jun?” asked Bobby.

“I am not criticizing you,” said Jun. “Well?” asked Bobby. “Uncle Jun. There is no need to be embarrassed with me. Any advice you can give is welcome.

After all, I am not an expert. This is the first time for me.”

“Well, Roberto,” said Jun. “We can go on as we are, but if your papa decides to not send you any more money, then we will be broke.”

“I agree with that,” Louie said.

“So. Roberto,” continued Jun. “If we are all to make any money out of this, we need a lot more people to give to the collections.”

“True,” said Bobby. “But how do we do that?”

“I think,” said Jun, seemingly still uncomfortable with what he was trying to impart. “I think we need to change the format. To make it more, how do you say? Kabboomski.”

“Kabboomski?” asked Louie smiling. “What is Kabboomski?”

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“That is not a real English word?” asked a puzzled Jun. “A German who used to live here for many years used to use it. He meant -” Jun’s arms were out from his sides with palms up and he was flapping them like a bird.

“Zing, do you mean?” asked Louie. “Or punch? Or zam?”

“Whatever,” said Jun, relaxing. “We need to put on a show of sorts.”

“That’s virtually what Father Puigi says,” observed Bobby. “So, what’s the idea? How do we do it?”

“Well,” said Jun. “For a start, we already have a kareoki machine that you use for addressing the people.”

“Yeah,” said Louie. “So what?”

“The real purpose of that machine is for people to be able to sing with the music,” said Jun. “We Filipinos love to sing and we love listening to people who can sing. We should get some people to sing at the meeting.”

“What kind of songs?” asked Bobby. “I mean I have never heard of anything called Hymns to Sing Along With.”

“No,” said Jun. “But many popular songs sound religious.”

“Yeah,” said Louie. “How about those from the show Superstar?”

“And that oldie, ‘I believe’,” joined in a suddenly enthusiastic Bobby.

“There are many such songs,” said Jun. “I have a friend who imports the discs from Manila. You can sit with him and see what is available, but I myself have Superstar, and we could use that this week.”

“Who has to sing it?” asked Louie. “Not me, I hope.”

“No, no, no,” said Jun. “There is a popular girl who lives behind here that has the voice of an angel. I will ask her to come and sing.”

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“Well,” said Bobby. “That is settled. Now what else can we do to make it, what’s the word Uncle Jun? Kabboomski?”

“I think, Roberto,” continued Uncle Jun. “That you should now improve your own presentation.” :In what way, uncle?” Bobby asked.

“Well,” he said. “At present you read the passage from the Bible and then answer questions.”

“Yeah, he does,” interrupted Louie. “But the people seem to like it that way.”

“True,” said Jun. “They like the fact that they can ask questions, but they are disappointed that Roberto doesn’t preach on the passage first.”

“I’m not sure I could do that,” said Bobby.

“Of course you can,” said Louie. “I’ll even help you prepare it.”

“You know even less than me,” accused Bobby.

“I can learn,” said Louie, sounding offended.

“And the other thing,” said Jun, who had now lost his shyness in appearing critical. “You must lead a prayer at the beginning. You have not led a prayer and the people expect it. Filipinos love to pray.”

“That’s true,” said Bobby.

“But more importantly,” said Jun. “We must change the collection method.”

“Now you’re talking,” said Louie. “How do we get that to increase?”

“At the moment,” continued Jun. “The plate is quietly passed around while you are answering questions. Nobody is looking. Some will be putting money in, but they are all Filipinos. It is equally true that some will be taking out.

They will believe that their need is greater than yours. You come from America, thus you must be rich.”

“Steal from a church?” asked an astounded Louie.

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“Of course,” answered Jun. “Why not? For centuries the church has stolen from us.”

“So,” asked Bobby, anxious to get back to the point.

“What do we do?”

“The first thing is that you have more people with collection plates taking them to each person there,” said Jun. “They are watching and so everybody will be too ashamed not to put something in the plate.”

“Makes sense,” said Louie, making a note.

“Then,” continued Jun. “You announce that there will be a collection and the blessings they will receive from God for donating to your works.” The collection will take place while a song is being sung. When all the money is in, it is brought to you and you offer a prayer for everybody who has contributed. Make them special so that they will receive the blessing, you understand?”

“Perfectly,” said Bobby. “All though to be honest, I feel as though I am being more like a con man than a missionary.”

“God will not worry how you go about saving souls,” intoned a serious-faced Jun. “As long as you save them. To him it is part of the war with Satin.”

“Amen,” said Louie, trying to keep a straight face.

They agreed that they would give it a dry run on the upcoming Wednesday, while Jun would start to prepare the open ground opposite for the following week.

The following morning, it was with foreboding that Bobby, after breakfast, shut himself with Bible and yellow pad in the chapel to prepare for his Wednesday lesson. He broke for lunch, but instead of retiring, as had become habit, for a nap, he returned to the chapel to continue his work.

By the late afternoon, he had finished and joined Louie for their afternoon cocktail.

“You have been busy,” observed Louie.

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“Well,” said Bobby. “If we are going to do this thing, we had just as well give it our best crack.”

“You’re really starting to get into this, aren’t you?” asked Louie, smiling.

“It’s certainly better than working for a living,” laughed Bobby.

The following morning, Jun arrived with two men and they started to set up for the evening show. They had acquired and additional speaker from somewhere to plug into the mother machine. True to his word, Jun had the karaoki version of Superstar. He informed Bobby that he would work the machine himself, and the young lady who was to sing during the collection was to perform, “I don’t know how to love him.”

That evening, people began pouring into the garden. So many in fact that there was a genuine worry as to whether there would be sufficient food. “You had better do the loaves and fishes bit,” observed Louie.

At precisely 6:30, Jun made the introductions. He was more like a ringmaster than moderator. “So I give you,” he shouted in the microphone. “A true Filipino, returned from the United States of America bringing with him the word of God, the one and the only Brother – Roberto – Reyes.” He immediately moved to the karaoki player and to the tune of “Hooray for the red, white and blue,” Bobby made his way to the lectern waving both hands in the air. The applause and cheers echoed the excitement in the air. It had been decided that the Bible would already have been placed on the lectern, and underneath was taped a sheet of paper with the program.

After one minute, the music stopped, and Bobby adjusted the microphone to his level. “Welcome, my brothers in Christ, to this evening’s meeting.” A cheer went 133

up and the applause began again. Bobby held up his hands for silence.

“Continuing with our study of the life of Jesus, tonight my reading will be from the book of St. Matthew, chapters three and four.”

He opened the Bible at the appropriate place and slowly read through the text. When he was finished, he closed the Bible and leaned confidently on the lectern. “Now what does this tell us?” he started. “It says that John, who became known as the Baptist, lived in the dessert alongside the River Jordan. Here, people would come from all over Judeah to be immersed in the water by him and wash away the sins of not just themselves, but their fathers before them. He wore just a garment of rough, itchy camel hair and ate only wild honey and grasshoppers. What does this tell us about John?” he asked.

“That he was skinny,” shouted a voice from the audience, raising much laughter. Even Bobby couldn’t resist a smile. ”He probably was,” admitted Bobby. “But the point was that he went without comfort for the sake of his belief in God. Think about it. John suffered for God.” “Now Jesus visited him and asked to be baptized, but John refused. He knew that Jesus was the savior, and felt that he was not worthy to baptize such a man. But Jesus said that in spite of the pecking order, John should still go ahead and they would sort it out later. Once it was done, the sky’s opened and God shouted that he was pleased and that Jesus was his only son.

“After this, Jesus went by himself into the dessert and fasted for forty days and nights. After this time, he was hungry. Who wouldn’t be? That is over a month without much food. Then Satin came to him and challenged him.

“If you are the Son of God,” he said. “And if you are hungry, 134

then why don’t you wave your magic hand and change these stones into bread?”

“A good question,” shouted someone, to more laughter.

“It was,” answered Bobby. “But Jesus told Satin that men did not live by just eating, but by obeying God.” “Then Satin took him to the roof of the temple, and told him to jump off. He theorized that God would not let Jesus just splat on the paving stones, but would save him. Jesus refused and said he didn’t need to prove himself to anyone.

The Satin took his to a mountain top and showed him the many nations and told him that he would give all of these to Jesus if he just knelt down and acknowledged him, Satin, as the all powerful. Jesus refused again, so Satin gave up and left. Jesus knew he was the Son of God. God had stated it as he left the water after being baptized by John. He didn’t need to prove it to anyone, not even the devil. That is what Matthew relates. Believe in God and you have everything you need.” The audience had become very quiet. Bobby glanced at his list. “Collection and song,” it said.

“Now,” said Bobby. “We have Gloria Santa Maria here who is going to sing for us.” There was applause as most of them were aware at just how sweet Gloria sang. “While she is singing, the holders of the collection plates will pass among you. Remember, we need money to save souls. You are not giving me money but returning to God that what is his anyway. If giving means a little less rice tomorrow, remember that Jesus himself went without rice for forty days in order to please his own father. At the end of our meeting I will ask for God’s blessings to be bestowed on all those that gave. They will receive what they may think is luck, but in fact will be the blessing of God for their sacrifice. Now, Miss Santa Maria –“ The microphone was lifted out of its stand and handed 135

to a skinny girl dressed in a loose shift-like dress of about fourteen. The music started and she sang with feeling. It was magic. She did have the voice of an angel and from where he stood, he could see that everybody felt the emotion of the words of the song itself. When she was finished, there was a moment of silence and then wild applause. The four people who had taken the collection plates around were stood in a line alongside Bobby. He could see at a glance that there was quite a bit of money this week. He motioned them to stand behind them, reclaimed the microphone from the girl and with his back to the audience said, ”Lord. Please bring your special blessings of those who have parted with these coins tonight. May their generosity to Your cause be rewarded thrice over. May they know the happiness that comes from giving.” He made the sign of the cross over the baskets, and Louie led the little group into the lounge to relieve them of their burden. Still holding the microphone, Bobby said, “Now – it’s question time.” There were more cheers and applause. “Would those who have a question, please come and line up in the front. There are so many of us now, that perhaps many will not hear the question otherwise.”

Perhaps half of a dozen came forward. Bobby beckoned the first. “What is your question?” he asked.

The man took hold of the microphone. “Father,” he began. “I am worried.”

“Why is that?” asked Bobby, leaning forward so his query could be picked up by the microphone held in the man’s hand.

“You said that baptism was meant to wash away the sins that are passed from father to son?” the man asked. Bobby nodded.

“Well, father,” continued the man. “I was baptized when I was a baby. Since then, my father has continued to sin.

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He has at least six secret wives. He continually commits adultery and he is in his sixties. He is also a thief. Does this mean that I have to get baptized on a regular basis to stay free from his sin?” there was much laughter and ribald remarks, among which was “Like father. Like son.”

Bobby took the microphone from him. “I do not believe that God will blame your father’s sins on you,” he started.

“As long as you don’t sin, and if you do, confess your sins and be forgiven.”

“Thank you, father,” the man said.

The next man came forward and took the microphone.

“Father,” he started. “Was John a Judean?”

“According to the scriptures, he was,” admitted Bobby.

“But he refused to baptize Pharisees and Sadducees, who to him were foreigners. Was John a racist?”

Bobby was bit shocked by the question, but seeing the expectant looks on the faces staring at him he knew he couldn’t avoid answering it. His mind quickly ran over the relevant passages as he retrieved the microphone. “What you have to realize is that although these people came from a different part of the country, they were employed by the Roman occupiers and so were disliked by the Judeans,” said Bobby. “John believed that the only reason they were submitting themselves for baptism was not to submit themselves to God but rather to show others that they were Holy as well. John knew that they were corrupt and just kidding themselves.”

“The man took back the microphone. “So,” he said.

“They were just like our politicians who go to mass but are corrupt?” there were cheers and applause. Bobby decided the best thing he could do was to take the microphone back and shake the man’s hand and call for the next question.

This was beginning to be like walking a tightrope.

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The next man asked, “Father. The devil offered Jesus all he could see if he would just worship him, and Jesus refused.”

“Correct,” said Bobby. “Jesus said that God was more than just land.”

“But,” continued the man. “If the devil could offer to give it, then it must have been owned by the devil, making him richer than God.” Bobby grabbed the microphone. “The devil was lying,” he said. “He owned nothing as the earth was God’s.”

The man grabbed back the microphone. “Then he must be like the man who sold my cousin a lot that he didn’t own,” he said, then left the lectern.

There were a few more commercials, and just before the end of the meeting Bobby announced that he would be in attendance at mass on the coming Sunday and invited them all to attend, then he announced the food was ready, but to remember it had to serve everybody.

If anything, the walk around after was met with more enthusiasm than normal and it took an extra half-an-hour to get everybody to leave.

When Bobby was slumped into a chair in the lounge, Jun announced that they had made a small profit on the collection. “Only one hundred,” he said. “But it is a start.

“You did great,” said Louie, passing him a can of cold beer. “Get that down you before you shower and change.”

“Thanks,” said Bobby. “I’m exhausted.”

“You did very well,” commented Jun. “Those questions were not easy to answer.”

“You’re telling me,” agreed Bobby. “Is there any way we can drop question time?”

“No way,” said Jun emphatically. “That is what makes us different. The people love the fact that they can question.

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That is pure entertainment, even if they do not believe your answers.”

“They don’t believe me?” asked an astonished Bobby.

“Not necessarily,” admitted Jun. “Do you not notice that around the meeting two or three have their heads together?

They are planning what question they can ask you that will put you on the spot. It is part of the fun, their entertainment.”

“So,” said Bobby. “I am just a performer.”

“Now you’re getting the picture,” said Louie, handing him another can. “After what you did at the weekend, can you have any doubts?”

The memory of Peaches in the shower made him smile.

“None,” he said. “None at all.”

17

The Priest Threatens Rooted deep inside of both Bobby and Louie were the fundaments of the Catholic Church and its teachings. Bobby could justify his conscience of what he was doing because, in truth, he was trying to preach and convert people to the ways of the Church. He knew that to partake in the communion he should first have attended confession, but to disclose his weekend of debauchery to Father Puigi, who would inevitably be behind the screen, would have been too much. He discussed the problem with Louie, who was of the same mind, and they agreed to get Jaime to run them to an adjoining parish on the Saturday, a parish where they were not known. In his confession, Bobby did not disclose any details, just that he was not married and had laid with a woman many times over the weekend. Whoever it was behind the screen appeared to get quite excited about the event and asked many questions that Bobby answered as truthfully as he dared. He was to pray the rosary four times and say the Lord’s Prayer five times before he was absolved.

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While he was praying Bobby smiled. It was a small price to pay for that particular weekend.

On the Sunday, he and Louie duly sat in their reserved front-row seats at church, again receiving a note from Father Puigi inviting them to pre-lunch cocktails in his manse after the service, and again with strict instruction s to leave by the side door. They were welcomed by a smiling Mia who Bobby believed had shortened her skirt by another inch since the last visit. The hem was now just below her shapely buttocks and her panties could be seen even when she just bent slightly over the table to reach for the bottle of wine.

Once she had left, Louie said, “I am definitely going to give her a going over before I leave. She is clearly asking for it.”

Bobby agreed that her eyes were set on Louie and felt a little jealous, although he understood that she probably believed he was celibate.

Father Puigi made his beaming entry and the conversation was, at first light. Then, after a couple of glasses of wine, Father Puigi said, “I hear that you both attended confession at St. Mary’s.”

“Yes, father,” admitted Bobby. “We were passing that way when I realized that I needed to take confession, so we stopped for a while.”

“Bullshit,” said the father, still smiling. “You wanted to hide from me your weekend in Angeles City.”

“Not at all, father,” said Bobby. “It was indeed a pleasant and relaxing weekend.”

The father smiled and reached inside is cassock. He withdrew some photographs and threw them face up on the table. “It certainly looks as though it was pleasant,” he said.

Bobby and Louie looked at the pictures with their mouths opened. There they were, walking along the street, by the swimming pool, in the disco, eating dinner and alongside 140

them were Apple and Peaches. Some showed them embracing and even kissing with a hand upon a breast.

“Where did you get these?” asked a querulous Bobby when he had overcome is surprise.

“I am Italian,” smiled the priest. “I have my ways.”

Louie leaned over and picked up one of himself and Apple. “Hey. This is great,” he said. “I’ll take two of these.”

“It is not you who is of importance,” said the priest. “It is Brother Roberto with whom I am concerned.” He turned to Bobby. “So far, Roberto,” he continued. “You have stuck to our agreement. My congregation gets a little larger.

Your Biblical interpretations may make some turn in their graves, but to me they are harmless. I just wanted to show you though, that if necessary, I can destroy you at any time.”

“Jesus,” commented Louie. “Once with the mafia, always with the mafia.”

“Just so, Mr. Louie. More wine?”

“Why not,” said Louise holding out his glass.

“Now,” said the priest. “To pleasanter things. You enjoyed your time in Angeles City?”

“You obviously know I did,” answered Bobby, still steaming at the intrusion into his privacy.

“Beautiful women,” commented the priest. “I used to sin myself once. I am too old now.” He called for more wine, which Mia brought.

“You see?” asked the priest to Louie. “She wants you to make love to her. She thinks I do not notice how she has shortened her skirt in your honor. How could I miss it?

Am I not first a man and after that a priest? Mama mia. I’m almost tempted myself.” The priest sighed.

“You and me, Roberto,” the priest continued. “Are in the same boat. We cannot be seen to have any interest in women unless they are old and ugly.”

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“Father,” said Bobby. “I am a little disturbed at my perception that you are spying on me. You have photographs and obviously someone who attends my meetings is reporting everything to you. I am really wondering as to what the point of all this is?”

“First, some more wine before we retire to our own lives,” said the priest. He poured the remaining wine into their glasses. “Roberto,” he began. “It is not as though I do not trust you, but a priest lives a poor and humble life.” He sipped his own wine. “Magnifico,” he commented. Then he went on. “As a priest, we give up so much to serve the Mother Church. While others are permitted to sin and participate in the wonderful gifts that God has given in the pre-procreation stage, we poor priests must sit and not take part. We have to forgo the pursuit of wealth and rely upon the generosity of our laity to just provide us with life’s necessities. Is this not so?”

“That appears to be the theory, father,” answered Bobby.

“Yes,” nodded the priest. “The theory. But is it not said that God helps those who help themselves?”

“I believe so,” said Bobby.

“I firmly believe that God does not intend us priests at the end of a life’s devotion to him to be as John, live in the dessert eating just grasshoppers and wild honey.”

“It would appear unjust,” said Bobby.

“My spying, as you call it,” continued the priest. “Is only insurance that you will work with me, not against me.”

“Why would I work against you? Asked Bobby.

“Money, Roberto,” said the father. “In the end it comes down to money. The thing that we both need. Unfortunately, this is a poor part of the Philippines and so there is only so much money to go around. I intend that you do not water down my rightful share, and so I take precautions. There is 142

nothing personal, you understand? Just business.”

“I understand,” answered Bobby. “In other words, if I become too successful, then you will expose me.”

“Ah, the problems of youth,” sighed the priest. “Always direct. Never subtle. Okay, if you want direct, then yes.

Cross me and you are dead.”

“I think we should be going now, father,” said Bobby rising.

“One more thing you can do for me, Brother Roberto,” said the father, still smiling.

“What is that?” asked Bobby.

“At next weeks meeting, I would like you to inform your people of my Bingo night in the parish hall on the Saturday.

Many prizes have been contributed. The proceeds go to a deserving cause.”

“What particular cause?” asked Louie.

“The Retired Priests Benevolent Fund,” answered the father, still smiling.

“Let me guess,” said Louie. “Of which you are the President and Treasurer.”

The priest just folded is hands across his not insubstantial stomach and nodded his head, smiling.

“How surprising,” said Louie. “Mia,” he shouted. “We are going now.”

A smiling Mia appeared almost instantly and showed them to the door. She surprisingly took Louie’s hand almost in a shake and then Bobbies. They walked to the waiting Jaimie. “Well,” said Louie. “What about that?”

“He’s an evil old bastard,” said Bobby, vehemently.

“No,” said Louie. “Not old father bunloaf, but Mia.” “What about her?” asked Bobby.

“She has just slipped me a note asking her to call her any morning between six-thirty and seven-thirty when the 143

father is taking mass.”

“Great for you,” said a slightly bitter Bobby. “Except that you will never be awake early enough to make the call.”

“I will, buddy,” said a contented Louie, leaning back in his seat. “Believe me. I will.”

18

Planning For Razmataz Religion “Good morning. Good morning,” said Louie approaching the verandah table where Mrs. Cruz was just setting up for breakfast. “What a beautiful morning it is.”

He slung the towel that had been draped over his shoulder onto the spare chair. The wetness of his hair indicated that he had already been to the beach for a swim. He dropped into his usual chair.

“I assume from your early morning activity that you managed to contact Mia?” said Bobby.

“I did indeed,” said Louie, with a satisfied grin in his face. “And after, well, it was too late to go back to bed, and I definitely needed a cold shower, so I went for a refreshing swim instead.”

“Bastard,” said Bobby, not hiding his jealousy. “What came of your call?”

“Nothing really,” said Louie. “The delightful Mia informed me that her day off is Thursday’s and that we are meeting for lunch at a resort well down the road called Coconut Grove. I hope they rent rooms by the hour.”

“You dirty bastard,” said Bobby.

“You, my friend, are jealous,” commented a smug Louie.

Why would I be jealous?” asked Bobby. “Just because she is young, extremely beautiful, very sexy and probably a virgin, why would I be jealous?”

“A virgin?” said Louie. “You just ruined everything else.

A virgin? She would probably want me to marry her before 144

she lets me into her lovely panties.”

“That would serve you right,” said a smug Bobby.

“Anyway,” said Louie. “Why, my brother, is your face so long today? It cannot be just your infantile attitude to my sex life.”

Bobby pushed across a sheet of paper. “This is the e-mail I received this morning from pa, he said.

Louie picked it up. “Oh,” he exclaimed. “I see your reason for concern. So, he is having a hard time himself and has slashed our budget in half. Not good, Bobby. Not good at all.”

“Worse,” said Bobby. “He says that we have one year to become self-sufficient, including the house rental, the staff wages and feeding ourselves. Although he doesn’t explain it, I have a feeling that my father is in some financial trouble himself.”

“Well,’ said Louie. “We are going to have to come up with something. My parents are now getting toey and want me to return. They are threatening not to send me any more money as well.”

“Don’t leave me,” pleaded Bobby. “I really need you.”

“Don’t worry,” said Louie. “I’ve never had so much fun in my life. Let’s hope that the idea of moving our meeting outside produces a much larger collection though.”

“I think we will have to give up providing food and drink,” said Bobby.

“Let’s keep the soft-drinks, but just add more ice so it goes further,” suggested Louie.

“Even then,” said Bobby. “We are going to have to come up with some other ways to increase funding.”

“I don’t know how,” said Louie. “Whatever we come up with that old bastard of a priest will claim that it is encroaching on his territory. I have worked out that his one 145

night of Bingo will bring him thousands. The prizes are all donated. He doesn’t have to hire a hall or pay the electricity.

The cards are donated by the printers. He has no outlay, only income.”

“I know,” said Bobby. “He even gets a few thousand a month fiddled by the jueting lord, and he doesn’t even have to buy the ticket. But, he’s clearly warned us against that as well.”

“Life is a bitch when everything else is going so well,” observed Louie, just as Mrs. Cruz arrived with the breakfast.

“I had better prepare for the Wednesday meeting after breakfast,” said Bobby. “It takes a lot of preparation.”

“You had better get used to it,” said Louie. “We may have to increase the number of meetings per week.”

“God forbid,” said Bobby.

Later in the day, Jun telephoned them very excited. He said he was calling a planning meeting but he would like it in his own house. They should get Jaime to drive them over after breakfast and plan to be there all day. Bobby, who hadn’t completed his sermon, again missed the after-lunch siesta and worked in the chapel. At four, Louie brought him a can of beer and they sat talking. “What is your subject?” he asked.

“I’ve a choice of three, really,” answered Bobby. “I think that I will stop being chronological and just jump from here to there with the interesting bits.”

“The way you have to study that thing,” said Louie, pointing to the open Bible. “You could almost be a real priest.”

The following morning, after breakfast, they were driven to Jun’s house. All the way, Louie had a satisfied smirk on his face. He had once again risen early in order to telephone and talk to Mia. He hadn’t said anything to Bobby though, 146

even though he knew Bobby was well aware of the fact.

Jun welcomed them into his home, offered them a soft drink and they were ushered into his den. “I want to show you where I think we should be going,” said Jun. He sat them in comfortable chairs, drew the blinds and switched on a video he already had in the machine. He had taped a usual Saturday night meeting of the El Shaddai group in Manila. The camera pans indicated that there were literally thousands of people in attendance. “They come from all over the province, every Saturday. The service goes on into the early hours of the morning. Now watch. The leader is Mike Velarde. He was a real estate salesman.”

For two hours they watched, fascinated by the performance of not just Mike Velarde, who was dressed in the most colorful of suits, but the choirs, the hysteria and the preaching of Brother Mike. Even though it was in Tagalog, they could see the impact he had. “Study his performance,” insisted Jun. “This is the thing we must create.”

After a while, even though the show was not ended, Jun switched off the set. Jun then led them outside to his much larger verandah and they sat in easy chairs around a coffee table. “That is what we must aim for,” said Jun. “I don’t think I could do that,” said Bobby.

“Let me tell you,” said Jun. “Mike Velarde and his friends are all now multi-millionaires. You saw the crowds? If they all only donated one peso each, he would have an income of over one million each and every week. Believe me. They all give more than that.”

“Incredible,” said Louie. “He must be in Fortune’s top one hundred.”

“Exactly,” said Jun. “Roberto. You are good. There is big money in what you do. All we have to do is plan.”

“So,” said Bobby. “That’s all very fine, but what do we 147

do this week?”

A satisfied Jun smiled broadly. “I knew you would agree,” he said. “So, I have been busy. Here’s what I think our program should be.” He reached below his chair and brought out a folder filled with loose-leaf sheets of paper.

He extracted the first and lay it on the coffee table.

“This week,” started Jun. “We will have much more music. In fact, we will play music as people settle down and then I have arraigned a choir to get people going before you are introduced.”

“A choir?” asked Louie. “What are they going to sing?”

“Not a churchy choir,” admitted Jun. “But I have had seven young people rehearsing some of the songs from Superstar. They are very good and will get the crowd excited.”

“Okay,” said Bobby. “What then?”

“Then,” said Jun. “Once I have introduced you, the choir sings again the fast number, and you enter, but not wearing your shirt with half-collar, but jeans, running shoes and this t-shirt.” He reached below his chair and with a flourish, shook out a t-shirt and held it up for them to see. It was a white t-shirt but in red, printed on the front was a cross and the words, “I’m a Believer.”

“Great,” said Louie, admiringly.

“I have had two hundred of these made which we will sell in the crowd. They will make a good profit. Soon, everybody will want one.”

“Starting to make sense,” said Bobby.

“You will not just enter, though,” continued Jun. “You will dance around the stage. The crowd will love it.”

“I’ll feel stupid doing that,” admitted Bobby.

“Don’t feel stupid,” said Jun. “The crowd will love it because it will make you one of them. Many will stand up 148

and dance as well, so they will be having a good time.”

“But I am supposed to be a missionary,” objected Bobby.

“Believe me,” said Jun. “The Filipinos love religion, but also the Filipinos love having a good time. If we are to succeed, we need to give them both at the same time.”

“It makes sense to me,” agreed Louie.

“Okay,” said Jun. “Then you give your Bible reading, but this time, you don’t read it all straight through. You stop and explain it as you go, then bring in the crowd by shouting to them if they agree, or ask are they too a believer. Keep them going because the collection will be made all through the service.”

“How about the question time?” asked Bobby.

“Play it by ear,” said Jun. “If you have enough excitement, make up a prayer, but ask them all to bring a boiled egg to the next meeting.”

“Why a boiled egg?” asked Bobby.

“You tell them that you will ask the Lord to bless the eggs,” said Jun. “That they must take them home, otherwise the park will be full of egg shell, and that whoever eats the egg the following day will receive the blessing of the Lord.

They will love it. Ceremony. Show business. –“ “Razzamtaz,” interrupted an excited Louie. “Hey, Bobby. This is more like it. Go man go.”

“Will you at least try it?’ asked Jun. “Well,” answered Bobby, thinking. “We are financially going down hill fast at the moment, so we have nothing to lose. Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

Jun and Louie smiled. “Good,” said Louie. “Now one other thing. If I am to manage these gatherings, I need to officially be the manager.”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “We couldn’t do without you, so no problem.”

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“Then I will do it,” said Jun. “But all expenses for equipment is from your fund from your father, and I get twenty-percent of income.”

Bobby looked at Louie, who shrugged. “We’ve got no choice old buddy,” he said. “We can’t do it ourselves.”

“It’s a deal, Uncle Jun,” said Bobby, leaning forward to shake his Uncle’s hand.

“Fine,” said Louie. “Here is my contract.”

“Contract?” said a startled Bobby. “You don’t trust my word?”

“Roberto,” said Jun. “You may not be an ordained priest, but as time goes by you may believe you are. Now, would you trust the word of Father Puigi?”

“Pass me the pen,” said Bobby immediately, and he signed, passing it to Louie for him to witness the signature.

“There,” said Jun. “That’s done. There will be some more, but I will fill you in before the show. Who would like a cold beer?”

Later, they were dropped back at the house. “I need to revise what I had prepared,” said Bobby.

“I’ll leave you to it,” said Louie. “I’m going for a swim.”

19

It Works – Jesus Rocks By the lunchtime of the big day, Bobby had completed his preparation. Although he tried to enjoy a siesta, he just couldn’t sleep because he was so nervous. Because his bedroom was in the front of the house, he could hear the noise of the men employed by Jun to construct a stage and arrange the lighting. He got up and looked out of the window. The benches that had filled the garden, appeared very small in number in that huge space. He noticed that they were set well back from the stage, which was nearing completion. A backdrop of canvass painted with a crude 150

crucifixion had been erected with space behind, where equipment was being set up. A central door with a curtain over it had been left in the scenery. A beam ran across the front of the stage from which hung some spotlights. It all looked very professional – and expensive.

By four o’clock, Bobby was a mental wreck. “You had better pull yourself together,” said Louie. “Here. I’ll get you a bourbon. I have to go over the road and help Jun in the final preparation.”

“Leave the bottle there,” said Bobby.

He returned about an hour later. “How you going?” he asked as he came onto the verandah.

“I’ve never felt better in my life,” said a grinning Bobby.

Louie’s eyes dropped to the bottle.

“I bet you haven’t,” he said. “You’ve drank half of the bottle. You are half-drunk.”

“No,” said Bobby, waving his finger. “I am half sober.

There is a difference.” He laughed.

Louie slumped into the chair and pulled the ice-bucket towards him and the spare glass. “I need one, but no more for you. After all we have done the last thing we need is a pissed parson.”

Bobby laughed. “I’ll be okay now,” he said. “I fact, I am looking forward to it. Is everything okay over there.”

“Hey, that Jun is some guy,” said Louie. “He is wearing a baseball cap back-to-front and running around rattling off orders left and right in Ilocano. He is having make-up applied to the singers, and boy, there is some lookers among them. All he needs is a canvas chair and a cardboard cone to make him a movie director.”

“All the workers and singers will be coming here for supper,” said Bobby.

“You had better have your shower and change,” said 151

Louie. “A lot have arrived already, some are in packed jeepneys coming from way south and north. Jun sure has spread the word.”

“I’ll go now. It will help sober me up a bit,” said Bobby.

“Where is my t-shirt?”

“Oh, yeah,” answered Louie. “I left it on the hall table.

Pick it up on your way upstairs.”

Even though they were at the back of the house, they could already hear the loud rock music being played as people arrived and settled down.

Bobby returned and Louie said,” Hey. You are looking good. Young and vigorous.”

“I’ll just have a small one,” said Bobby, pouring a little bourbon into his glass. “I’m feeling nervous again.”

“That’s natural,” said Louie. Just then Jun came through the lounge and onto the terrace. “Nearly ready,” he announced. “There must be three or four hundred there.

Now, Roberto, let me take the Bible and I will put it on the lectern. I have taped the program there for you, but if you forget, I am there and will butt in. Cover yourself in this as we walk across the road. I do not want anyone to see you until you make your entrance.” He handed Bobby a black sheet with a hood attached. Bobby stood up and put it on.

He wrapped it around him and Louie laughed. “Give you a scythe old buddy, and they will all think that they have seen the grim reaper.” Bobby laughed as well. He was beginning to enjoy making a spectacle of himself as only one half inebriated could.

“Let us go,” said Jun, picking up the Bible. They left the house, walked along the road away from the crowd until they were opposite the back of the stage, then crossed and climbed onto the stage behind the scenery. Bobby gratefully took off the cloak as it had proven to be hot under there.

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On stage, the ‘choir’ were lustily singing a song from Superstar and dancing along. The crowd were going wild and cheering. As the applause died, down, Jun removed his hat , ran a comb through his hair and then stepped through the curtain into the spotlights. The crowd cheered, thinking that he was the missionary. He took the microphone and started his speech. Bobby was feeling very nervous now, in spite of the drink. Louie stood ready to pull back the curtain and gave him a thumbs-up sign.” “ – So, let us welcome the one, the only, Brother – Roberto – Reyes.”

Louie pulled back the curtain, and Bobby just stood there, frozen for a second. Louie made urgent hand gestures for him to move onto the stage and then the choir started the fast number again, dancing along, and Bobby went through holding both hands high like a champion boxer.

The crowd roared and clapped. Then the music hit Bobby’s slightly befuddled brain and he wanted to dance. He set off in a wild jig to one side then across the front to the other, dancing a wild dance, increasing the intensity of the performers dancing in line behind him. He could hear the crowd going wild and many of them in the front were stood up and dancing along. The whole scene was enhanced by disco lights playing over the crowd. By the time the song had been sung one more time, due to the calls from the audience, Bobby was sweating as he took his place behind the lectern. He was no longer Bobby Reyes – American dropout. The excitement of the music and the roar of the crowd had turned him into Brother Roberto Reyes, topnotch preacher. He stood beaming at them all. Then he raised his hands and shouted, “Are you a believer?” A roar came back at him, “Yes. I’m a believer” “I couldn’t hear you,” he shouted again. “Are you a 153

believer?”

This time the roar could have been heard in San Fernando. Cars were stopping along the road and their occupants leaving them to find out what was going on, swelling the already large crowd.

“Tonight, my friends, we’re going to learn a little about Jesus,” he said. ”But first, why am I here?” he asked.

“I was born here, right here in San Fernando,” a roar went up of approval. I lived in Los Angeles with my parents.

My father owns many bakeries, not small ones, but huge bakeries, and so I had everything. Everything, that is, except the most important thing of all – Jesus. Then one day, I heard a voice in my head that said, “Look for me, and you will find me.” I studied the Bible, I went into a seminary and I found Jesus. Now I am a believer. Are you a believer?

He shouted.

“Yes,” came the roar.

“I knew, after I had found Jesus, that he wanted me to come back to the place of my birth, and share with my friends the joy I had found. I – am – a – believer.”

A roar went up and there was applause again until Bobby raised his hand for silence, and he opened his Bible.

“The good book tells us a lot about Jesus,” he started. It contains advice on everything we need to know about living our life in happiness. Jesus says that we must keep the law.

Now he doesn’t necessarily mean that we should stop at a stop sign or go to hell. He means the simple laws, the one brought down from the mount by Moses, the laws as laid down by God Almighty himself. The Ten Commandments.”

He paused. The audience had gone very quiet and were hanging on to every word. “This is power,” thought Bobby.

“What did he say about these laws?” asked Bobby.

“First, he said we must keep them. “He says, and I quote, 154

‘Remember that as long as heaven and earth last, not the least point nor the smallest detail of the Law will be done away with – not until the end of all things. So then, whoever disobeys even the least important of the commandments and teaches others to do the same, will be least in the Kingdom of heaven.’ So, what does Jesus mean by this? He is saying that no smart-assed lawyer should even try to find a loop-hole in any of the Ten Commandments.” The crowd cheered because they all had dealings with “smart-assed lawyers” and here Jesus was on their side.

“Now, we will have a break and listen to Angel sing like one,” he stepped back as a girl came on the stage with a separate microphone and belted out a song, with Bobby in the background smiling and clapping in tune. The song ended and the girl was given a rousing reception. Bobby stood back at the lectern and shouted, “I’m a believer, are you?” The noise rushed back at him. They were alive again.

“Now, what about revenge? Ilocanos are famous for taking revenge. It is said from Tarlac to Davao City – don’t screw around with the Ilocanos. They will kill you.” A great cheer went up. “You are all Ilocanos?” asked Bobby. A great cry of “Yes,” went up. “Are you a believer?” Bobby shouted.

A great cry of affirmation came back and Bobby held up his hands for silence. “Then,” he said quietly. “You had better listen to what Jesus says about revenge. He says, ‘You have heard that it was said An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But now I tell you: do not take revenge on someone who wrongs you.’ Jesus is saying that taking revenge is wrong. He says, ‘If someone slaps you on the right cheek, let him slap you on the left cheek too.’ Now, again, are you a believer?”

A slightly less enthusiastic roar was returned, because although they were believers, they were also not stupid.

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They knew just where Bobby was leading them. “Do you believe now in taking revenge?” There was almost silence, as they thought about it. Then Bobby roared, “Well?” And they were cowed enough to shout their “nays.” “Praise be the Lord,” shouted Bobby. “We are all now true believers,” and the shout went up again. “Let us bring back the Holy Dancers for a number while we all rejoice in our conversion tonight,” Loud music began, and the dancers came into the lights from both sides of the stage and began to prance around. Bobby jumped down and put his hand down to assist a wrinkled old crone to her feet and he started to dance with her to the roars of approval from the crowd. All around the area, others were standing and dancing, waving their hands in the air. It was party time. When the music stopped, Bobby bounced up onto the stage again. He was treated like a movie star now.

“Since my return,” continued Bobby. “I have witnessed many taking revenge on their enemies. I know the anger one feels one someone wrongs you, after all, I too am an Ilocano.” The crowd roared. “It is in our blood.” He said.

Again a roar of approval. “But this does not make it right.

Why not? Simply because Jesus has told us it is not right. If I told you the name of my enemy, you would be surprised.”

Behind the scenery, Louie held his breath, thinking that Bobby just might name the local priest. “But I will not,” continued Bobby, “because I listen to Jesus who says ‘You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your friends. Hate your enemies.’ But now I tell you: love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. So that you may become the children of your Father in heaven, For he makes the sun to shine on bad and good people alike, and gives rain to those who do good and those who do evil. Why should God reward you if you love only the people who love you?

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Jesus is telling us that God gives even to evil people, so why should we be less perfect than Him. This is hard to understand, even for me. But are you a believer?”

“Yes,” came back the reply. “Then we must do our best to do as Jesus tells us,” said Bobby. “If you find it hard, then at least avoid your enemy rather than kill him.”

This they could understand and a cheer went up. “Who would like another song?” he shouted. The roar went up again. As the music started up, Bobby was surprised when Jun came up to him and handed him a very cold can of beer. Bobby raised his eyebrows before taking it. Jun leaned forward and shouted in his ear. “You need more gasoline, my friend. Tell them that the first miracle of Jesus was to turn the water into wine. They will understand.” The musical number stopped and Bobby stepped to the lectern and held up the can of beer. “I am human,” he shouted. “The first miracle of Jesus was to turn the water in the jar into wine, so Jesus never objected to anyone enjoying a drink. In the Philippines, Saint Michael turns the water into excellent beer,” To the cheers of everyone, he held the can in front of the microphone while he snapped open the can, then held it above his mouth and poured the beer down his throat.

Some spilled onto his t-shirt, but everyone loved the act.

The evening went on for three hours, with some preaching, some music and blessing the collection.

“Before we end,” said Bobby. “Next week, I want you all to bring a hard-boiled egg with you. I will call the on God to bless them, so that when you eat them for breakfast, you will be filled with the blessings of God himself.” They cheered.

The evening ended with dancing and Bobby prancing around the front of the stage dancing in turn with many women who thrust themselves forward. When it ended, Bobby bounced on the stage, “Good night everyone.” He 157

shouted. “I’m a believer, are you?”

A huge roar went up and with the music still playing, Bobby stepped back through the doorway. Louie wrapped the black cloak around him. “Quickly.” He said. “Go before they come looking for you.”

Fully wrapped, Bobby jumped onto the grass and ran across the road and into the darkness of the bushes fronting the gardens, and then edged his way until he entered the driveway of the house. Once there, he discarded the cloak and went straight to the refrigerator, drawing out two cold beers, which he took onto the verandah. Flopping down into a chair, he opened one and took a deep swallow. He felt physically and mentally drained. He was well into the second when he heard the others coming. Mrs. Cruz hurried in because she had to bring out the supper prepared for the helpers. Her face was beaming. “Oh, sir Roberto,” she said, breathlessly. “You were wonderful.”

“You were there, Mrs. Cruz?” asked Bobby.

“I was, sir,” she said. “From the beginning. I can’t wait to tell Father Puigi about just how good it was.”

Bobby jumped. He had forgotten to advertise the father’s bingo session as he had promised. “Don’t forget to tell him that I told everybody about bingo on Saturday,” said Bobby hopefully.

“I won’t forget, sir,” she said. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. There was a noise as many others came into the garden, each carrying benches which they set down in a haphazard fashion so that they could talk as they ate. Louie came in alongside Jun. Jun was as beaming. ”Wonderful,” he said. “You were perfect. Well done.”

“Yeah,” said a smiling Louie. “We will have to make sure you have a drink or ten next week, old buddy, some are filled with the Holy spirit, with you it’s bourbon.”

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“I am washed out,” said Bobby.

“You just need some more bourbon. I’ll go and get a bottle from upstairs,” said Louie, and went into the lounge.

“You were very good,” said Jun. “We will get you to alter your pitch a bit more often next week. Otherwise, excellent.

Your dancing in front was an inspiration. If you will excuse me, I will count the collection.” Bobby had not noticed that when Jun had entered he was carrying a heavy rice sack that bulged at the bottom.

Louie returned with glasses, bottle and ice in a bucket.

He poured to very generous glasses of bourbon on the rocks.

“Cheers,” he said. “I mustn’t have too much as I want to be fit and horny for tomorrow.” Bobby remembered that Louie was lunching with Mia. He smiled. “Dirty lucky bastard,” he thought as the spirit hit the back of his throat.

Mrs. Cruz brought plates of bread, cheeses and two bottles of already opened red wine to the table. “I know you do not like my spaghetti,” she said. “So I have prepared you what I know you like.” The fact that it was cold anyway did not seem to deter the helpers, singers and dancers who were greedily stuffing cold spaghetti and engaging in animated conversation on the lawn. Jun came out smiling and took a seat. “Roberto,” he said. “Perhaps before you eat you would go and thank the helpers, then they can drift off as they want without disturbing us.”

“Good idea,” said Bobby rising. The helpers all treated him as a God a he shook hands with them. Two of the girls with shining eyes he would have liked to have done more than shake their hands, but it might have ruined his image. One very pretty girl of about eighteen though, was definitely a bit coltish towards him, smiling in the way that only girls who are interested in more than conversation do.

Bobby held onto her hand a little longer than the others and 159

looked deep into her eyes. “Are you a real priest, father? she asked. “Or are you one of the ones who are allowed to get married.”

“I have not taken a vow of celibacy,” said Bobby. “You are?”

“Yvonne,” she said. “But my nickname is Pinky.”

“You sing very well, Pinky,” he said, aware some of the others were listening. “I hope to see you again.”

“So do I,” said Pinky, running a cute tongue tip along her top lip. Although done quickly, the meaning was obvious, and Bobby’s heart quickened. He left her and returned to the others at the table. “Let’s eat,” he said. “I am starving.”

“The collection is much better this week,” said Jun. “We took about P4,000 directly and made another P1,000 on t-shirt sales. So, you have P4,000 after my percentage. Not bad.”

“We will need a lot more than that to pay the bills,” commented Bobby.

“I agree,” said Jun. “But I expect that as the word spreads that we will build it up over the next few weeks to about 1,500. If the collection average per head stays as it was tonight, after my commission, that should give you about P36,000 a month. You can survive on that.”

“But not go to Angeles City,” said Louie, quietly. Jun smiled but pretended he had not heard. “My idea,” said Jun. “Is first establish here once a week, and then we will open up in Agoo on a different night. It will be no more work, because you can use the same sermon, but within three months you could have close to P70,000 a month and that will allow a little pleasure.”

“Let’s drink to that,” said Louie, raising his wine glass.

After his second glass of wine, however, Bobby remembered the saying to never mix grain and grape and he felt so tired 160

he had a job keeping his eyes open. “I’m bushed,” he said, rising. “I am going to have a shower and hit the sack. Good night you two.”

20

A Serious Romance Blossoms Bobby was late rising the following morning. After the highs of the previous evening, he felt strangely depressed.

This was not helped by having to listen to Louie singing a poor imitation of Rod Stewart’s “Tonight’s the night” as he prepared for his lunchtime meeting with the gorgeous Mia. Reluctantly, Bobby hauled himself out of bed and into the shower and ventured downstairs for breakfast.

“Good morning preacher,” said an overly cheerful Louie. “And how do you feel this fine day?

“Totally shot,” said Bobby. “Stop being so cheerful.”

“Why should I not be cheerful. Today is the day that I shall break bread with the beautiful Mia. I shall probably also have dinner with her, and I am sure that should you care to offer a prayer and give me your blessings, maybe, just maybe breakfast as well.”

“Sometimes you can be an asshole,” said Bobby.

“Really,” said Louie, feigning shock. “What kind of language is that for a man of the cloth.”

In spite of his mood, Bobby smiled. “That’s better,” said Louie. “You worked really hard last night. Why don’t you just relax today. Take a walk along the beach. Get some air.

Clear the cobwebs.”

“Yes, mother,” said Bobby. Mrs. Cruz delivered their breakfast with a previously unknown reverence. “I told father about last night,” she said. “He was very pleased and has invited you both to bingo on Saturday.”

“We have to go to a meeting in Manila,” said Louie quickly.

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“Oh,” she said. “I’ll let him know tomorrow,” she said and left.

“What meeting?” asked Bobby.

“Remember your promise?’ asked Louie. “Every other week, or I go home?”

“Angeles City, you mean?” asked Bobby.

“Yup,” answered Louie. “We need a break away from here. I don’t really think that Mia will come across today, and I am getting very horny.”

“Me too,” said Bobby. “Can we afford it?”

“Hey,” said Louie. “The oldies sent me another two last week. My treat.”

“Well. Okay.” Said Bobby, feeling better at the thought of another weekend of debauchery. Drought and flood. He had two weeks of sexual drought, now was the time for the downpour.

“Can I ask Jaimie to run me down the highway?” asked Louie.

“Sure,” said Bobby. “I have no plans to go anywhere.”

“Fine then,” said Louie. “I’ll go and get ready. Can I borrow your after shave?”

“You are an old tart,” said Bobby, laughing. “Sure you can.”

Louie had just left when Bobby heard the telephone ringing in the study. He rose and walked through the lounge. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” said a voice. “This is Pinky. Do you remember me from last night?”

“How could I forget you?” said Bobby, then realizing added, “So soon.”

“I have some questions, father,” she said. “About what you said last night. Will you answer them now or should I come around and see you.”

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Bobby’s heart quickened. Mrs. Cruz was there, so it would be no harm in her coming to the house, and anyway, he was lonely. :No,” he said. “Do come around. In fact, why not come for lunch? My secretary has an appointment elsewhere and I hate dining alone. You would be doing me a favor.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Will it be okay with Mrs. Cruz?

“Do you know Mrs. Cruz? Asked Bobby.

“She is a friend of my mother’s,” answered Pinky.

“I am sure it will be okay,” answered Bobby. “But even if not, then I will take you to one of the local resorts and we can eat there.”

“Well,” said Pinky. “If it is okay then I will be there in about fifteen minutes. I am in town, not at home.”

“Look forward to seeing you then,” said Bobby and replaced the telephone. He almost put his fist up in the air with joy, but instead, adopted a sober face and went to the kitchen. Mrs. Cruz was busy at the stove.

“Mrs. Cruz,” he began. “Are you cooking enough for two? I have somebody coming to lunch.”

“There is plenty here, sir Roberto,” she said. “Do I know the person?”

“I think you might, Mrs. Cruz because she says you are a friend of her mother. Her name is Yvonne something,” said Bobby. “She wants to ask me some questions regarding last night. As Louie is away, I thought she may as well ask them over lunch.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Cruz, smiling. “Pinkie is coming, is she?

Lovely girl. I have known her since she was a baby, and that was twenty years go. My, how times fly.”

“So, you do not object to her lunching with me?” asked Bobby.

“Not at all, sir Bobby. In fact, it is nice that you two get 163

together, you being not married and all.” Bobby jumped a bit. Marrying Miss Pinky was the furthest thing from his mind unless she would agree to a divorce after the honeymoon.

He sat dreaming away on the verandah. He heard the doorbell and rose to go and answer it, but Mrs. Cruz had beaten him to it, so he sat back and waited for her to show Pinky to where he was. He could hear Mrs. Cruz and Pinky speaking in animated Ilocano as the came closer, and then she was there. “Miss Pinky, to see you sir Roberto,” said Mrs. Cruz. “I shall serve the lunch here sir or in the dining room? She asked.

“I think here would be more pleasant, Mrs. Cruz,” answered Bobby, not letting his eyes off Pinky. “Thank you.”

Pinky, in the daylight, was even more stunning than she had been at night. She was wearing a tight, red mini-skirt and the shape of her legs was enhanced by the high-heeled red sandals she also wore. The top was a short-sleeved white cotton blouse with the bottom knotted in front, exposing her pretty navel. Dark, black glossy hair hung straight to just over shoulder length. Her smile showed even white teeth and her eyes were almond shaped, and very dark.

Bobby caught his breath. She was stunning. As good, if not better than Mia. On many girls, the outfit would have looked cheap, but the innocence of her face made it appear angelic on her.

“Ah,” said Bobby. “Won’t you sit down, Miss Pinky.” He pulled out a chair. She sat, and from behind he saw the skirt rise a few inches higher up her thigh. “Thank you, father,” she said.

“Please call me Bobby,” said Bobby. “I am not a priest.

The title is honory.”

“I will if you stop calling me Miss Pinky,” she said with 164

a broad smile. “My name is Pinky.”

He sat opposite her. “Would you care for a drink of something before lunch?” he asked.

“I would love an iced tea, if you have it?” she answered.

“Do you object to men who drink?” he asked. “You see, I would prefer a beer if it doesn’t upset you.”

She laughed. “Oh, Bobby,” she said. “After the show you made of enjoying beer last night, if I objected to men drinking then I wouldn’t be here.” Bobby had forgotten about that and laughed as well. As if she had been listening from behind the door, Mrs. Cruz appeared. “Is there anything I can get you before lunch?” she asked. Bobby ordered their drinks and Mrs. Cruz brought them to the table. “Cheers,” said Bobby, raising his glass. Pinky took hers up and clinked it against Bobby’s. “Here’s to us,” she said. Bobby took a much-needed swallow of beer.

They chatted away, Bobby asking her questions about her life. She told him that she lived with her parents and they owned their own farm where they grew mangoes and kept some pigs. Bobby had her laughing about some of the less boisterous tales of his family and childhood. Never once did she pose a religious question. Mrs. Cruz served a light lunch, and cleared the table when they were finished.

Pinky showed no desire to leave, so Bobby suggested a walk along the beach, to which she agreed. A smile of approval was on the face of Mrs. Cruz as she ushered them out of the front door. They walked along the beach, hand in hand like long-time lovers, perfectly at ease with each other. They entered a resort and took a table in the shade and enjoyed another drink together, all the while talking and getting to know each other more and more. They decided to eat an early dinner in the resort, after which they sat together on a bench, arm in arm watching the near-full moon rising 165

out of the sea and reach towards them. Tentatively, Bobby turned his face to Pinky and softly kissed her cheek. She turned her head towards him and brought her lips to his.

Their first kiss was gentle, with lips closed. They kissed again, and this time it was longer and firmer. Then again, and Pinky’s lips open slightly, until by the tenth kiss there was genuine passion and Bobby felt the beginning of an erection. Without thinking, his hand moved to her breast and he cupped it. She pulled away and removed his hand.

“No, Bobby,” she said. “I am not an easy girl.”

Bobby immediately felt bad and stammered his apologies, but she smiled. “You are forgiven,” she said.

“Maybe one day, but not on a first date.”

They rose from the seat, and started to walk again.

She slipped her arm around him and he knew all was well with the world. When they reached the house, she said she wouldn’t come in, but would catch a tricycle home. He wanted to accompany her. “Are you proposing marriage to me?” she asked with a smile. “Uh,” stammered Bobby. “Not yet.”

“Well,” she said. “If you were to bring me home and meet my parents, it would be all round the town tomorrow that we had become engaged. That is our way. So I think it best if I find my own way home tonight.”

Bobby thankfully agreed, gave her a quick kiss before she stepped into the sidecar and waved her off. He then went indoors to sort out his thoughts because he was feeling very confused. He had never met or felt about a girl such as this.

He sat quietly thinking when he heard Louie come in.

“You there?” he shouted.

“Out here,” said Bobby. Louie came to the table. “Ah,” he said. “Drinkies. Just what I need.” He moved away towards the kitchen. “Bring some more ice,” shouted Bobby after 166

him. He returned with some ice in a bowl, which he poured into the ice bucket. Then poured himself a good measure before sitting down.

“I see you made it home before breakfast,” commented Bobby.

“Yeah,” agreed Louie. “Mia is not like that. She’s a good girl.”

“So,” commented Bobby. “You had a good day?”

“Great,” said Louie. “You should have seen the dress she arrived in, it would have broken your fly. It was a tight, black little number. Short and with a low back and front.

Plain, but sexy.”

“So,” asked Bobby. “What did you find to do all day?”

“Man,” answered Louie. “She is some girl. Did you now she has a college degree? She comes from a town called Baguio, somewhere up in the mountains, but there is no work there and getting a maid’s job was the best she could do. Her English is impeccable.”

“She is a beautiful lady for sure,” said Bobby.

“Well,” continued Louie. “We enjoyed a long leisurely lunch overlooking the sea. She had brought her bikini, so she wanted to swim in the pool. Not having any togs, I bought some in the gift shop. Boy, they sure rip you off there. We spent a couple of hours in and out of the pool My hands slipped a few times, but otherwise innocent. Then we went for a walk and later had dinner, then just sat staring at the moon for a while. Boy. I think I am falling in love.”

“Ha,” said Bobby. “You didn’t get her to go to bed with you though.”

“Hey,” said Louie. “She’s a decent girl. I wasn’t going to try too hard on the first date. She said no anyway. What did you do with yourself today?”

“Not much,” said Bobby, feigning boredom. “Just had 167

Pinky round for lunch and then to the beach with dinner at a resort. We kind of looked at the same moon, kissed a bit then parted.”

“Is that Pinky the singer?” asked Louie.

“Yeah,” answered Bobby. “I think that’s the one.

“You son-of-a-gun,” exclaimed Louie. “I saw her last night. She’s a good looking chick.”

“Yes,” said Bobby, smiling. “She’s that alright.”

Louise started laughing. “And at times I was thinking of you and feeling sorry for you.”

“I tell you this, man,” answered Bobby. “I didn’t give you a thought.” They both laughed.

“Well,” said Louise. “Off to Angeles tomorrow. I think I will get an early night.”

“Me too,” said Bobby, rising.

21

Loosing The Lust They had booked rooms at the Orchid Hotel and the journey was uneventful. In fact they both appeared lost in their own thoughts. Once they had checked in, they went into a number of bars, fully knowing that even if Peaches and Apple were available that night, they might not start work until nine. Somehow, this time, the bars seemed a little grottier. Knowledge seemed to dim the excitement a little.

They need not have worried about the availability of the girls. As soon as they entered their bar they were spotted.

Both were on the stage, saw them, screamed and came flying off it into their arms and began to kiss the with passion.

They arranged with the bar fine with the mamasan and the girls went of get dressed. They then left the club and went dancing in one of the many discos around the area. They returned to the hotel at midnight and once again enjoyed an exceptional night of lovemaking.

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The following day, the girls again needed to return to their apartments to get clean clothes so they went to Roy’s bar for lunch. A couple of the customers recognized them from their previous visit and so they felt immediately at home. Slowly though, the bar emptied after the lunchtime rush and they found themselves sat by themselves at the bar.

“How was your night last night?” asked Louie.

“Great,” said Bobby. “What Peaches doesn’t know about turning a man on hasn’t yet been invented.”

“Same with Apple,” said Louie. “She gives the greatest sex I have ever had.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby, and they sat in silence, sipping their beer. Suddenly Louie said, “But it’s not the same, is it?”

“What do you mean? Asked Bobby. “Not the same?”

“Well,” said Louie. “I know this sounds stupid, but last time, neither of us had a girlfriend. I feel that I am letting Mia down.”

“I know what you mean,” said Bobby. “Last night when I was making love, I kept seeing Pinky’s face not Peaches.”

“Yeah,” sighed Louie. “I had to imagine that it was Mia under me, not Apple.”

“This is crazy,” said Bobby. “Why should I feel committed? I have only spent one afternoon and evening with the girl. I haven’t had sex with her. I am single. Why should I be feeling so guilty?”

“It’s the same with me,” admitted Louie. “We should have stuck with the professional girls. No complications.”

“I know,” said Bobby. “But since spending yesterday with Pinky, my attitude is different. I mean my eyes are opened.”

“In what way?” asked Louie.

“Well,” said Bobby. “I have been thinking about Peaches and the conversations we have.”

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“And?” coached Louise.

“Well,” said Bobby. “Don’t get me wrong. Peaches is a lovely girl.”

“She’s certainly sexy with that oriental look,” agreed Louise.

“Yes,” agreed Bobby. “But she is not real.”

“In what way?” asked Louie, very interested now.

“Well,” said Bobby. “It is a myth that these girls prostitute themselves in order to get out of poverty. They may come from poor families when they start, but their attitude keeps them poor.”

“These girls are poor after all the money we and others give them?” asked Louie.

“Ask Apple just how much she has got in the bank,” said Bobby. “I can tell you the answer, nothing.”

“So, what do they do with it?” asked Louie. “Send it back to their parents?”

Bobby snorted in derision. “No way do they send any home in spite of what they tell investigative reporters. They are basically selfish and stupid. They don’t have any money, but they all have a wardrobe full of clothes and a suitcase full of make-up. Their best friend is the mirror.”

“Hey, buddy,” said Louise. “That is a pretty low opinion you have developed for these girls.”

“I suppose it is,” said Bobby sadly. “I just wish it wasn’t true. But think about it. Are you trying to tell me this is the only thing they have the choice of doing? Become a whore ? Mia was also out of work and with qualifications, did she become a whore ? No, in spite of it being a demeaning job, she would sooner be a humble maid than sell her body.

These girls of ours are good looking. They are excellent at sex because that is their job. The better sex they give, the more customers they get. The more customers they get, 170

the more money they make. The more money they make the more clothes and make-up they can buy. There’s is a simple, lazy and selfish life. If they have no customer, they finish at two in the morning and sleep until six at night. No problems.”

“Boy,” said Louie. “You are making me feel even more guilty that I am helping them. What do you want to do, give tonight a miss?”

“No,” answered Bobby. “We’re here now and I am still human. One more night will be good, but I think we should go home tomorrow.”

“I agree,” said Louie. “See if you can see the cameraman and tell him to get a message to Father Puigi.”

They both laughed. “Drink up buddy,” said Louie. “The ladies are probably waiting for us.”

That night, in between love-making and playfulness, Louie questioned Apple about her life and discovered that much of which Bobby had said was true.

The following morning they broke the news to the disappointed girls, paid them off, had lunch in a pub down the road before going to the bus-station. The trip back was boring and they were glad to arrive back at the house.

Mrs. Cruz was surprised by their early return and had to hurriedly make up both beds because she had stripped them in order to let them air.

That night, before they retired, “Bobby,” said Louie.

“I have a feeling that we may be entering onto dangerous ground here. We had better be careful.”

In spite of this warning, more to himself than Bobby, he was up early the next day to telephone Mia, and when the telephone rang for Bobby later that morning, he had hastened into the study and closed the door behind him.

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22

Bigger And Better As was becoming routine, the Monday saw Bobby working in the chapel preparing for his Wednesday night show. The new format made the job much easier. He had decided that he would, for the moment, abandon the Sermon on the Mount and the sage, but lucid advice of Jesus. Partly, he had to admit, was that his eyes kept coming back to what Jesus had to say about adultery and although not married to Pinky, Bobby felt a pang of conscience regarding his weekend jaunt. He decided that quoting two of the parables would be more entertaining. As it was predominantly a farming community, he chose the parable of the weeds then the parable of the four talents, which he converted to being pesos in order the people would understand.

On the Tuesday, together with Jun, they held their planning conference. Jun held up that week’s t-shirt, which was red with the writing in white, which still stated, “I’m a believer.” “You should wear white jeans if you have them,” suggested Jun. Early Wednesday evening witness Bobby once again ensconced with a bottle of bourbon depleting his natural inhibitions.

There were more than double the numbers of the previous week. The dancers and singers, including Pinky, reacted to the bigger audience and put that little bit extra into their acts. Bobby was in superb form. During the telling of his parable of the weeds, one wag shouted out that it was the preachers who supplied the fertilizer. ”Not much point really when both the corn and the weeds are full of it,” replied Bobby to much laughter and applause. He had everyone pleased when he explained that the four pesos were the natural talent that God gives each and every one of us, and that we could either bury it, waste it or work to 172

make it grow so that we became more talented.

Towards the end he asked all who had brought eggs to raise them into the air. He was amazed that not only had the news of the meeting spread, but this particular piece of nonsense as well. Many hands held more than one egg.

In a loud voice, with heavenly choral music background, he implored God to let his blessings enter the eggs and whoever was to eat them to receive them. Hundreds of eggs were being waved about as though to catch the blessing raining down invisibly form the heavens to earth.

He once again enjoyed a can of cold beer during his performance and was surprised to see many of the men holding cans aloft to drink in unison with him.

At the end, he made his quick exit and was in his second beer when the others jubilantly returned. Bobby eyed Pinky attempting to ignore him while sat with the other performers and volunteer workers. He wished they could be open about their growing interest in each other and that he could invite her to sit at his table, but he knew the scandal it would create.

Jun announced the collection and t-shirt sales were more than double the previous week, reinforcing his prediction that within another three weeks, they would be running at a sustainable income sufficient to cover all expenses. After that, he declared, they would open in Agoo where all would be expendable profit.

Bobby went to thank the staff once more, holding on to Pinky’s hand a little longer than he should. He noticed that she was eating slower than the rest and was the last to leave.

He was able to slip from his table and catch up with her alongside the house. They were alone, so he held her and they kissed passionately. He couldn’t accompany her to the gate as he still was wearing his t-shirt and could have been 173

recognized. He kissed her goodbye in the darkness and she slipped away.

On the Saturday, they once again went to the adjoining parish for confession. The priest asked even more questions than before and found it hard to disguise the envy in his voice.

The following morning, they entered their pew and discovered the usual note that they read with foreboding.

The service was interesting. Father Puigi had selected for his homily the passage where people were warned to beware of false prophets. His talk about this and his warning to not listen to evangelists was given while he unblinkingly stared at Bobby. It was, for Bobby, a very uncomfortable ten minutes and he was sure that the point being made by Father Puigi was not missed by the majority of the congregation.

Once they had left, they reached the house where Mia was waiting with the door already opened. She hurried them inside, but let Bobby go ahead through the study, while she and Louie stopped. Bobby sat and, looking back, caught of glimpse of the pair indulging in a passionate kissing session.

Bobby poured two glasses of wine and waited. They heard the front door open, and Louie and Mia came hurtling out of the study, Louie sitting down and Mia with a wave of her hand, disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen.

“Wipe the lipstick off your mouth,” said Bobby. Louie quickly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and then took a sip of the wine, wiping its red color around his lips for further camouflage. Father Puigi came onto the verandah, not smiling this time, and filled his glass with wine. He sat heavily into a chair and sighed. He took a sip of his wine, and his features relaxed. “Brother Roberto,” he began. “You have disappointed me. I thought I could trust you.”

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“What is it that I have done, father?” asked Bobby.

“What you have done, my dear Roberto, is to turn your small Bible study group into a full-blown circus,” said the priest.

“Surely that is good for you,” said Bobby. “I am attracting more people, and many are following my pleading to attend your mass.”

“Sure. Sure,” said the priest. “Today, there are many more people in my congregation.”

“So you should be pleased with me,” said Bobby.

“I would be Brother, except for one thing,” said the father.

“And what might that be?” asked Bobby.

“My congregation is higher, but yet my collection is a lot lower,” said a sad-looking Father Puigi. “Now why would that be, I ask?”

“No doubt it will be my fault,” said a slightly bitter Bobby.

“It is your fault,” suddenly shouted the priest. “You are getting these people so excited that they put more than they can afford in your collection plate. Come Sunday, they have nothing left, so I get nothing.”

“So what do you want me to do?” asked Bobby.

“You will stop the shows and go back into your garden with a Bible study class,” said the father.

“Father,” said Bobby. “How am I supposed to eat if I do that. Unlike you, I do not receive a stipend. Neither is my rent paid. I do not get a staff allowance, expenses or any income whatsoever. You have all of this, plus you have gifts, kickbacks from gambling, bingo, regular draws, proceeds from garage sales and whatever else. I only have collection money, and you want me to give this up? Never.”

“You will give it up or I will force you,” threatened the 175

priest.

“What,” said Bobby. “By showing a few innocent pictures around? If I occasionally play around, Filipinos will admire me, not condemn me. They will think I am macho.”

“You are learning fast, Roberto,” said the priest quietly.

“Nevertheless, I am instructing you to do this, not asking you, or I will show you just what I can do around here.”

“Father,” said Bobby, standing. “I think it is time we ended this conversation. I am trying to forgive my enemies, but you are not making it easy. I have grown up since arriving here and you do not scare me. I shall not be attending your services in future.” Bobby turned and stalked towards the front door. Mia came running and escorted Louie, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek in the darkened hallway. The voice of Father Puigi came drifting through. “You will soon learn who has the power around here.”

It was an angry drive home. “That man is a moneygrubbing, wicked old bastard,” said Bobby.

“Can he do anything though?” asked Louie. “I mean. I would hate to be tarred and feathered and run out of town right now.”

“I’ll expose the old sod,” said a still angry Bobby.

“Hey, buddy,” said Louie. “Remember the old saying. If you want revenge, first dig two graves.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby. “But he has pissed me off right royally.”

“I can see that,” said Louie. “Let’s get drunk.”

23

Priestly Power And They’re Stymied Following the now normal routine, after breakfast on the Monday morning, Bobby repaired to the chapel to work on his preaching script. Louie spent the morning on the computer, sending some letters but mainly playing games.

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They met for lunch and, because Bobby was now developing a technique in his preparation, they even enjoyed a siesta after.

As the afternoon lost its heat, they decided that a stroll through the barrio would be a good idea. They were quickly mobbed, with people wanting to shake their hands or even touch them. “Father,” one man shouted. “It was a miracle.

That egg you blessed. I ate it in the morning, picked two numbers and they won. The Lord showered me with his blessings just as you predicted. I’m a believer.”

“The chant was taken up by all around them. “I’m a believer.”

“Father,” said a woman, pushing her way through the crowd carrying a small boy. “Let my son bless you. He has been sick and I am sure that he will be cured if you bless him back.” Bobby reluctantly let the little boy take his hand and place it on his own hot forehead. Then Bobby placed the hand on top of the boy’s head and shouted, “Jesus. Cure this child. Let it be sick no more.” Cries went up from the crowd. “We believe. We believe.”

The boy wriggled out of his mother’s arms and dropped to the ground, and then he was off, running down the road.

“Thank the Lord,” wailed his mother. “He’s cured.”

Louie whispered in Bobby’s ear. “I don’t know what is happening, old buddy, but I think we had better get the hell out of here. This could get out of hand.” Bobby agreed and they turned, waved then strode up the road. “That was eerie,” said Bobby. “Did you really cure him?”

“How the hell would I know,” answered Bobby. “I’m just hoping that he didn’t run around the corner and drop down dead.”

“Promise me that you will never do that again,” said Louie.

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The following morning they had sat around waiting for Jun to arrive for the usual planning meeting. Normally, he would arrive by ten, but it was fast approaching lunchtime when he did arrive. He came around the back so they were surprised to see him approaching the verandah. “Sit down,” he said. “I have some unpleasant news.”

“Don’t tell me the choir is going on strike unless they get hot spaghetti,” quipped Louie. Jun pulled out a chair and sat heavily.

“It’s all over,” he said.

“What’s all over?” asked Bobby.

“Our Wednesday shows,” said Louie. “The council have banned us from using the ground across the road or any other ground owned by the town, Notices are being erected over there now.”

“Why?” asked a puzzled Bobby.

“They are using as an excuse that you encourage drinking on public property. There is an old ordinance prohibiting it,” said Jun. “What?” gasped Bobby. “My one can of beer? If we promise not to do it again, will they lift their ban” “Nothing will make them lift the ban,” said Jun, bitterly.

“My councilor friend saw me this morning. He has admitted that the person behind it is Father Puigi. He knows too much about too many people, so he blackmails them to do as he wants, and he wants you stopped.”

“That sneaky goddamn priest,” exclaimed Louie. “The old son-of-a-bitch.”

Bobby put his head in his hands, then raised it and said, ”Is there some private land we could rent?”

“I already thought of that,” answered Jun. “My friend told me that even if we find a piece, and there is plenty around, then unless we can provide proper toilet facilities, 178

the council would not grant us a permit for assembly.”

“But there are no facilities all along the beach,” said Bobby.

“True. But the land is owned by the council,” said Jun. “They can ignore their own ordinances if they like.

“What are we to do?” asked Bobby. “We have to raise money to live.”

“Perhaps you can start up in another town?” asked Jun. “I could still manage it if it is not too far away. As long as it is well away from Father Puigi, then it should be no problem.”

“You mean move house and everything?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” said Jun. “Let’s face facts. Either you move out or Father Puigi does, and I cannot see him leaving here for the next few years.”

“Will the people protest?” asked Louie. “After all. They do enjoy the show.”

“They will not go against the official church,” said Jun. “They are frightened to disobey Father Puigi.”

“It’s just not fair,” said Bobby. “We were on our way and doing good at the same time. My father will not believe me.

He will think it is me who has copped out. I’m done.”

“Hey, buddy,” said Louie. “Don’t let’s give up just like that. Okay. So we cancel tomorrow. We set up the speakers in our front and tell any that turn up that we’re are seeking another venue. It doesn’t have to be in this town’s boundaries. You saw how many travel by jeepney to come here. They will travel somewhere else. Let us all stay calm and think about it.”

“Louie is right,” agreed Jun. “We know the problem, now let us seek a solution.”

“How about bumping off Father Puigi?” said Bobby. “I don’t need a hit man. I’ll do it myself.” They all laughed.

Jun accepted their invitation to stay for lunch during 179

which they talked the problem over. The only solution though seemed to be that they locate a venue outside of the jurisdiction of San Fernando council, and also relocate themselves. As Jun said, “If you find a way to overcome this problem, Father Luigi will ensure that this lease is not renewed and probably find other ways to force the council to harass you.”

Jun left straight after lunch. Bobby and Louie didn’t feel tired enough to have a nap. They were both feeling depressed. “Well,” observed Louie. “He did warn us.”

To pass the time and to get their bitter thoughts away from Father Puigi, they opened a bottle of wine and played cards. They decided that each peso coin was a $1,000 chip and after a few hours, Louie was a multi-millionaire. “Sorry,” said Bobby, losing yet another hand. “My heart’s not in it.”

“Nor should they be,” said Louie, pulling the pot towards him. “Diamonds were trumps, not hearts.”

Bobby did get mentally lifted after spending half-anhour on the telephone talking to Pinky, who had called to offer her sympathy.

“That was Pinky on the phone,” he said, returning to the verandah with a smile on his face.

“No,” said Louie. “And I thought you were talking to Father Puigi all of this time.”

“Have you still got a date with Mia on Thursday?” asked Bobby.

“Of course,” said Louie. “She just can’t get enough of me.”

“I was thinking,” said Bobby. “Why don’t I ask Pinky for a date on the same day, and perhaps they could take us on the bus to Baguio or we could even take the car.”

“Hey,” said Louie. “That is a great idea. I would love to visit there. I have heard a lot about it.”

180

“Sure it won’t cramp your style?” asked Bobby, grinning.

“No way,” answered Louie. “It just means that I will have to wait another week before I seduce her.”

They made the arrangements and both girls, although they had never met, were pleased with the idea. As they were going to get Jaimie to drive them, they informed Mrs. Cruz of the plan. She was particularly pleased with the fact that Bobby was going to be together with Pinky, but expressed fear that Louie going with Father Puigi’s maid might cause more problems. She was so disgusted with Father Puigi’s actions that although it meant her leaving fifteen minutes earlier and coming home later, she was now going to mass in the adjacent parish.

A large number of people had not heard of the meeting being cancelled, and so Jun and his helpers were kept busy explaining things to them before they departed for home.

They were up bright and early on the Thursday morning.

It had been arranged for the girls to arrive at nine. Jaimie was busy polishing the car, smiling at the thought that he had a good day’s driving ahead of him, for a change.

The girls arrived just five minutes apart. They were greeted with modest pecks on both cheeks by both boys.

Mia was introduced to Mrs. Cruz, who nodded her approval at Louie. Both girls had chosen to wear jeans, because, being locals, they were well aware of the lower temperature in the mountains. They had advised the boys to take jackets along, although Bobby, already sweating in the morning sun, thought that this was ridiculous. A party mood set in as they set off. Mia and Pinky seemed to get along very well.

Too well, in fact as Louie stated, “Hey, girls. Let’s keep the conversation in English shall we, so we can all join in.”

They passed the huge carving of the head of the deposed President Ferdinand Marcos, now looking the worse for 181

wear after suffering some bomb damage, and turned off the coastal road towards Baguio. It was not long before they were climbing steep hills. The road was narrow and very windy. Buses coming the other way would suddenly appear around a curve and on their side of the road. The drop in temperature became noticeable, and after an hour of tense driving, they entered the City of Pines, Baguio.

Mia was particularly excited to be back in her hometown.

She suggested that they visit her home, but Bobby let Louie know what this might infer. Louie made them all laugh as he pretended to want to jump from the moving car.

They had a wonderful day, visiting the sights, riding a boat on the lake in the park. They went to Camp John Hay for lunch in the luxurious clubhouse. Bobby was glad they had taken the girls advice and brought jackets. The weather was cloudy, with the clouds often touching the ground forming a light mist, the air was therefore damp and very cold, but it increased the heavy scent of pine.

They walked arm in arm through the markets, viewing the exciting array of vegetables and fruit, all so very fresh and surprisingly cheap. The decided that they would return home in the late afternoon, not because they were bored, far from it, but in order that they would not have to travel that hairy road in the dark. The sun was just setting when they reached the coastal road and turned north. As they entered Buang, just a few miles south of San Fernando, they had Jaimie pull in to the Bali Hai resort where they intended to have dinner. Bobby then told Jaimie to go home, and that they would get a tricycle later. Throughout the day, when Jaimie was nearby, they had had to act conservatively.

Before entering the resort, however, each took his girlfriend into his arms and kissed them passionately, allowing the day’s pent-up feelings to be let loose.

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It was a wonderful dinner, compete with wine. They had chosen white wine, as neither of the girls were fond of the dryer red varieties. Afterwards, they agreed to part company but promising they would all go out on the following week.

Pinky and Mia exchanged telephone numbers an arranged times when they could chat together. With arms around each other Bobby and Pinky turned north, while Louie and Mia turned south.

It was wonderful for Bobby to be with Pinky. They didn’t just kiss, but talked seriously about the future, now apparently ruined by Father Puigi. The walked. They talked.

They sat and looked at the sea. The kissed and hugged, but both knew it was still too early to mutter the three magic words, although neither had any doubts it was true.

What tomorrow would bring, neither knew, and at that moment, neither cared.

“God will provide,” said Pinky, snuggling her head into Bobby’s shoulder.

24

Changes Their Lives The excitement of the previous day buoyed them through breakfast, but the realization that they had nothing to do for the rest of the day brought on a depression by ten.

Suddenly, Louie stood up. “This house is beginning to give me the shits,” he said, angrily. “Let’s get the hell out of here and go for a walk.”

“Good idea,” agreed Bobby, also standing.

“But not to the barrio,” said Louie. “If I saw you doing your black magic act again, I’ll throw up all over you. Let’s find a quieter place.”

“Okay. Okay,” said Bobby, raising both hands in supplication. “Let’s go.”

They left the front gate and turned in the opposite 183

direction to the road that ran into the barrio. The sun was very hot on their backs as they strode along the highway.

They hadn’t gone a quarter of a mile when they came to a road leading off the highway.

“I wonder what is down there?” asked Louie.

“It won’t be a barrio,” answered Bobby.

“What makes you say that?” asked Louie.

“If there were a barrio down there then we would see tricycles entering and leaving.” Said Bobby. “See? Nothing.”

“Smart ass,” said Bobby. “Let us see if you are right.”

The road was indeed quiet, although there were houses either side of the road, they were not jammed together as in a barrio. Each house was set on its own lot and had at least twenty yards between them. Nobody could be seen in the gardens although the front door was open on some.

Occasionally they would walk past an empty block sporting overgrown shrubs, weeds and the occasional tree.

“We’ll be in the country soon,” said Louie. “It will be nice to not be among people for a change.”

They were passing an empty lot when they heard a small cry coming from it. “No. No. Don’t” cried a small voice. They both stopped simultaneously, cocking their ears. Again, “Please. No. You’re hurting me.”

Bobby looked at Louie and put his finger to his lips. Then he turned and made his way around a large bush that was blocking the view of what was causing the girls distress. He stopped, shocked at what he saw. A tall, skinny Caucasian, with his back to him was holding a young, skinny waif of a girl against him while his other hand was clearly groping under her raggedy dress. She was struggling and crying.

It took just three strides for Bobby to reach the man and wrap his arm around his throat. The man gave a startled cry and with surprising strength, wrenched himself out of 184

the headlock, turned and threw a round-house punch at Bobby. It was pure instinct that Bobby raised his left hand and blocked it while at the same time throwing a straight right that landed right on the man’s nose, causing it to instantly spurt blood. The man raised his hands to his nose, drew them away, saw the blood and immediately said, “I vill kill you.” Just then, Louie stepped forward and punched the man hard in the stomach, causing a whoosh of breath and the man sank to his knees.

“Now, asshole,” shouted Louie, imitating what he had seen many times on Reality TV, “Lay on your stomach and spread your arms and legs. That’s right. Spread ‘em.”

Bobby had his arms around the sobbing girl. She was only about twelve and was definitely underfed. Her slippers had come off in the struggle. Her straggly hair was matted together which combined with her filthy feet, clearly indicated that this girl was in need of care and protection.

“You are all right now,” said Bobby, gently as the girl clung to him, sobbing.

“What shall we do with him?” asked Louie.

“Call the police and have him arrested,” said Bobby.

“Hey. Buddy,’ said Louie. ”We are not in the US now.

Where is the telephone? In fact, where are we?”

“Okay,” said Bobby. “We’ll make a citizens arrest,” “Can we do that?” asked Louie.

“We’ve got no choice,” said Bobby. “Do you want to let him go?”

“No way,” said Louie. “I hate guys who assault kids. I would hang them all by their balls.”

“I will tell you what we will do,” said Bobby, reaching down and picking up a length of timber that had been laying there. “I’ll look after him while you go back and get Jaimie to bring the car. We are not that far away from home.”

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“Right,” said Louie. He went to the prone man and kicked him in the ribs. “Listen up, asshole,” he said. “If you so much as move one leg, my friend here is going to bash your head in. Do not provoke him because he is one mean sonofabitch.”

“Ya. Ya,” said the man. “I vill not move. My stomach is bad.”

Louie actually ran from the scene. Bobby comforted the girl with one arm, while holding the lump of timber in the other. It seemed only a few minutes had passed before he heard, rather than saw, the car draw up. Louie came around and together they lifted the man by his shoulders and frog marched him to the car. The girl, calmer now, followed.

“You get in the front with Jaime,” Louie told the girl.

“This asshole will sit between us in the back.”

Jaimie drove the car toward San Fernando and the police station. “I vill give you money to let me go,” said the man. “Ten thousand pesos I vill giff you.”

“No way, buddy,” said Louie. “You’re going to jail you perverted bastard.”

As they entered the police station, the sergeant who was behind the counter looked up at the trio. Instant recognition crossed his face and he smiled. “Father Roberto,” he shouted.

“You have come to bless us, no?”

“No,” said Bobby. “I have come to bring you this pedophile that we caught in the act trying to rape this little girl.”

The smile immediately left the sergeant’s face.

“I vant to charge both of these men with assault,” said the man. “They both have hit and punched me.”

“Did you both hit him?” asked the sergeant.

“Sure,” said Louie. “He tried to hit us and run away.”

“But you did hit him,” said the sergeant. “He can have 186

you charged with assault and it will be up to the judge to decide as to whether it was in self-defense. I cannot sop him from making the charge” “For Christ sake, sergeant,” burst out Bobby. “Have you been listening to us. He was about to rape this little girl.”

“Yeah,” said Louie. “And if he wants to charge us with assault, then leave us with him in a cell for five minutes so we can make the charges worth while.” The man’s eyes opened, as he saw the sergeant nodding.

“No, vait,” he said. “I vithdraw the accusations.”

“Good,” said the sergeant. “Now, father. Tell me what happened.

Bobby quickly ran through the events from the time they heard the cries until the present. “I will need to get you to sign a statement,” said the sergeant. “The girl is too young to be the complainant, so would you act in that capacity?”

“I certainly will,” answered Bobby.

“I will have to wait until I can get the social worker here before I take the girl’s statement,” continued the sergeant. He turned and shouted through the door at the back. “Georgio.

Telephone the Department of Social Welfare and ask them to send over a social worker right away and then get out here with camera and finger printing gear.”

“A muffled, “Yes sergeant” was heard.

“Now,” said the sergeant, turning to the man. “What’s your name and where are you staying?”

“I vish to see a lawyer,” said the man.

“You will vish to see a doctor if you do not give me your name,” answered the sergeant, coming around the end of the counter. “My name is Jeurgan Viche,” said the man, hurriedly. “I am staying at Southern Palms. Room 16.”

“Fish? Asked the sergeant, writing it down.

“No,” the man answered, “Viche. V-I-C-H-E.” 187

“And from what country do you come from Mr. Fish?” asked the sergeant.

“I am from Germany,” he said.

“Where is your passport?” asked the sergeant.

“It is in the hotel safe,” said Jeurgan.

“How long have you been in the Philippines? asked the sergeant.

“Just over two years,” came the answer. Just then the policeman called Georgio came to the counter with ink pad and finger-print charts. “Get Felix out here as well,” said the sergeant. Another policeman came inn from the back room. “Yes, sergeant? He asked.

“Felix,” said the sergeant. “Type out a letter for this man to sign authorizing you to collect his passport and any other relevant papers from Southern Palms Resort. Then go out there. Ask to look at his room as well while you are at it.

Now, Georgio, prints and photograph.”

The room bustled with activity as Jeurgan was stood against the wall, had his photograph taken both full face and side on, the one by one, his fingerprints taken.

“Now,” said the sergeant. “Mr. Jeugan Fish,” “Vishe. Viche,” shouted a frustrated Jeurgan.

“I am charging you with the assault and attempted rape of – what is the girl’s name?”

“What’s your name pet?” asked Bobby, bending down to her.

“Maggie,” she said quietly. “Maggie Cruz.”

The sergeant had heard. “Maggie Crux,” he said, writing it down. Now, sir” he continued. “You have undergone a warrantless arrest because you were caught in the act of committing a crime by Brother Roberto Reyes and Louie Mendoza who affected a citizens arrest as prescribed by law.

You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say 188

may be taken down and used in evidence. You are entitled to a lawyer and should you not have one then a lawyer will be appointed to you by the court. Do you understand?”

The German nodded. “Good,” said the sergeant.

“Georgio. Throw him in the cell with the others. Do not tell them what he is charged with otherwise we will have to carry him out.” Jeurgan was led through the door at the back.

Just then a pleasant looking woman entered the station.

“Charmien Arroyo from the DSWD,” she announced. “You called us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the sergeant. “This little girl has been the subject of an attempted rape.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” said Ms. Arroyo, bending down and putting her arm around her. “Are you okay? You are not hurt anywhere.” The girl shook her head. “We need you with her while she gives us a statement.”

“Of course, sergeant,” said Ms.Arroyo. “Where shall we do it? Out back?”

“If you please ma’am,” said the sergeant. Ms. Arroyo gently put her arm around the girl and led her through to the rear office. He turned to Bobby. “Father,” he said. “It may be a little while before we can take the statement of you and your friend, If you would like, why don’t you go and get yourself something to eat and come back in about an hour” “A good idea, sergeant,” said Bobby. “We will come back at two.”

Jaimie was still waiting patiently outside. “It’s not worth going home,” said Louie. “Let’s just grab a burgher and fries at Mac’s.”

After their lunch, to which Jaimie happily joined with them, they returned to the police station.

“Go right through, sir,” said the sergeant. “We’re ready for you now.”

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The passed into the back office. Little Maggie was sat with the social worker in the corner greedily eating a hamburger and alternately sucking on a straw that disappeared into a large plastic cup.

“Will your statement be English?” asked a constable.

When informed it would, he said, “Maybe you correct spelling. My English not good.”

Bobby suggested that they both be allowed to type there own, to which he happily agreed and gave up his seat.

It didn’t take long. They presented them to the sergeant, signed them, had them witnessed and rubber stamped.

“We’re having a bit of a problem, sir,” said the sergeant.

“Really?” asked Bobby.

“Yes,” said the sergeant. “Ms. Arroyo has been telephoning all over the place to DSWD shelters, but she cannot find one that has space for the girl. They are all full to bursting.”

“Can’t she just be sent home?” asked Bobby.

“That’s the problem,” said the sergeant. “She hasn’t really got a home. Both of her parents are dead. She stays with whoever will give her a bed for the night.”

“That’s dreadful,” said Louie. “How old is she?”

“We’re not really sure,” said the sergeant. “And neither is she. We put her at around twelve or thirteen at the most.”

“So what is going to happen to her?” asked Bobby.

“I suppose she will just have to sleep here in the station until a vacancy occurs,” said the sergeant. “It is not a nice place for a young girl to be, though. Especially late in the evening when we tend to bring in people drunk or on drugs.”

“We have plenty of spare bedrooms,” said Bobby. “She could stay with us.”

“That’s an idea,” agreed the sergeant. “Let me check it 190

out with the social worker. Ms. Arroyo. Could we have a word with you?”

She rose and came over. “I am having no luck at all, sergeant,” she said. “She may have to stay here.”

“I don’t know if you have met Brother Roberto Reyes,” he said. “He is the one that saved her. He tells me that they have many spare bedrooms where he lives and that he would be willing to house the girl until shelter becomes available.”

“Oh,” said the social worker. “Do you gentlemen live alone?”

“No,” said Bobby. “We have a live-in housekeeper. Mrs. Cruz.”

“Oh,” said the social worker. “I know Mrs. Cruz. Such a Christian woman. If she is in charge of the girl, I could certainly permit it. Could you take us to her?”

“Of course,” said Bobby. “I have a car outside.”

“Wonderful,” said Ms. Arroyo. “I will just fetch Maggie and we will be off.”

25

A Child Shelter Is Born When they arrived back at the house, Bobby shepherded everyone into the lounge and Louie went to find and bring Mrs. Cruz to join them. She entered, wiping her hands dry in a small towel. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Ms. Arroyo. “Why,” she said. “Ms. Arroyo. What ever are you doing here?”

“Hello, Mrs. Cruz,” said Ms. Arroyo, standing and kissing her on both cheeks.

“Would you take a seat, Mrs. Cruz? said Bobby. “We have something to discuss with you. Perhaps, Ms. Arroyo, it would be better if you explained everything.”

“Of course,” said Ms. Arroyo as she sat down again.

Mrs. Cruz had also taken a seat, but was sitting a bit 191

uncomfortably on the edge. “I will use our own language, Brother, if that is okay with you?”

“Carry on,” answered Bobby, and sat back.

In what appeared to him to be rapid gibberish, the two women talked. Occasionally Mrs. Cruz would turn and smile fondly at the girl, who was able to follow their conversation anyway. Then Mrs. Cruz turned to Bobby and said in English, “Of course we will take her in if you agree,” she said. “Ms. Arroyo says that we are to take her to the police station tomorrow at eleven so that she can have a medical examination. If it is okay with you, sir, I shall go with her.”

“No problem at all, Mrs. Cruz,” said Bobby.

“Now my poppet,” she said, standing and holding out her hand to the little girl. “We will take you and get you scrubbed up a bit.” She turned to Ms. Arroyo who was preparing to leave. “I’ll telephone my friend,” she turned to Bobby. “Pinky’s mother and see if she has any clothes left from when Pinky was this size. Now come with Tita Emily.”

Bobby was amazed. After all this time, this was the first he knew that Mrs. Cruz had a first name. Emily.

Louie saw Ms. Arroyo to the door and instructed Jaimie to run her back to her office. He then joined Bobby on the verandah.

“That has been quite some day,” he said. “We lose an income and get another mouth to feed.”

Later in the afternoon, they were pleasantly surprised by a visit from Pinky. Her mother had found some of her the dresses she had grown out of many years ago, so she had volunteered to bring them across. She had given them to Mrs. Crus and together they had tried some of them on Maggie, who had pranced around like a model. “She’s so cute,” said Pinky. “Who would want to do such horrible 192

things to such a cute girl. Now, Bobby. Tell me what happened.”

She sat and listened as Bobby went through the story yet again. “Well,” she said. “He sounds like a horrible man and I hope they jail him for life. But a reward for my hero.”

She leaned over and kissed Bobby on the mouth. “Hey,” protested Louie. “I helped in there.” Pinky laughed and came around the table, bent and kissed Louie on the cheek.

“There,” she said. “Now I must go. I will be back tomorrow after you all return from the police station. Maggie will need all the friends she can get after having those doctors probe her all over.”

The next visitor was Jun. “It’s all over town,” he said.

“You two are quite the heroes. Father Puigi will be livid. I think he intended to preach against you this coming week, but he daren’t do it now.”

Next, the telephone kept ringing with people wanting to tell Bobby what a good thing he had done. In the end, Bobby had to leave it off the hook.

The following morning they drove back into San Fernando and the police station. It might have been a tight squeeze because Mrs. Cruz was quite wide in the hip, but she sat Maggie on her lap. Bobby couldn’t believe the change in the girl. From the dirty little skinny kid of yesterday morning, she had been bathed while her hair shone and was tied with a ribbon in a ponytail. She was also wearing a freshly laundered dress. Between them, Mrs. Cruz and Pinky had found some white socks and sandals for her feet.

She did look very cute, but more importantly, happy.

Ms. Arroyo was waiting for them outside of the police station. “We won’t take her in there,” she said. “The press are there and it is like a zoo. We’ll take her straight across to the hospital where the medico-legal doctor will examine 193

her and prepare her report. Come along dear,” she said to Maggie. The ladies walked off while Bobby and Louie walked through the door of the police station. “Here they are,” shouted the sergeant. A group of men, some with cameras surged towards them. “You caught a big one father,” shouted the sergeant, smiling. “He has arrest warrants out for him from both Olongapo and Angeles City. He has jumped bail twice.”

“Can we get a photograph with you and the prisoner,” asked one.

“He is ready,” said the sergeant. “Come through. I will sit behind the desk. The prisoner will stand alongside.

Mr. Louie to my left and the father with his hand on the prisoner’s shoulder as though arresting him.”

They trouped and jostled their way through the door. Jeurgan was already there with his hands cuffed in front of him and wearing an orange t-shirt with the word “Detainee” stenciled across the front. A policeman came from behind and hung a cardboard sign from Jeurgan’s neck on which was written his name and underneath, “Child rapist.” Any idea that this man was innocent until proven guilty had obviously gone out of the window. Feeling a little embarrassed, Bobby allowed the sergeant to direct the photo session and many flashlights it up the room as though a thunderstorm was raging. Others kept shouting their questions at Bobby. “Where is the girl staying?” was one. “At my home,” answered Bobby, unaware of the interpretation that would be made at this remark. He was asked about foreign pedophiles in the Philippines, which he vehemently condemned, and many other questions. Then, suddenly, they were all gone.

“They have to write and file their stories in the next hour if they are to make tomorrow’s papers,” explained the 194

sergeant.

“Did you locate his passport?” asked Bobby. “Yes,” said the sergeant. “He also had a suitcase full of kiddy porn.”

“How come he can skip bail and still have his passport?” asked Louie.

The sergeant smiled. ”He has money and well, this is the Philippines. He had over five thousand dollars in traveler’s checks in the safe. That kind of money can buy a lot of people to see nothing.”

“It’s disgraceful that anyone would let loose a child sex offender,” said Bobby. “They must know he will just abuse another child somewhere.”

“Well,” said the sergeant with a shrug. “He will not even get bail here. Our prosecutor is recommending no bail to the judge on Monday.”

Ms. Arroyo came though the door with a piece of paper in he hand. She handed to the sergeant who quickly read it. “Slight bruising to the back and inside thigh. Small fresh laceration in the vagina but a healed laceration at six o’clock.

So, little Maggie is not a virgin.”

What?” asked an astonished Bobby. “At her age?”

“It happens,” said the sergeant. “She lives in the poor area, There the young teenage boys have nothing to do, so they play with the girls.”

“Good God,” gasped Louie.

“Boys will be boys,” said the sergeant, stamping a receipt on the report. “You need not attend on Monday, father,” said the sergeant. “It is purely a bail hearing. Affidavits will be presented and a defending lawyer will be appointed and a date set for the start of the trial.”

“Thanks,” said Bobby. “How about the girl.”

“Not for this hearing,” said the sergeant. “Bail hearing only.”

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They left the station, climbed into the car and all returned home.

26

A Home For Abused Children Is Born “Are we going to mass this morning?” asked Louie.

“No,” replied Bobby. “I have gone off our church at the moment. You go if you like, but I doubt if you will have a chance to see Mia.” “Well,” said Louie. “I am going to see her, smart ass.

Mass takes at least one hour during which Father Puigi is in the church the whole time. Mia is going to slip out as soon as he is gone and be back before the service ends. I am picking her up at the back gate.”

“Then you won’t want me around,” said Bobby.

Later, Louie returned carrying four Manila newspapers.

“These had just arrived,” he said. “You are quite a hero in the big city. See this one. “Priest Arrests Pedophile in the Act.” Look at this, “Young Girl’s Virtue Saved by Priest.” All good stuff, although I do get a small mention.”

Bobby saw that his photograph holding the shoulder of Jeurgan was on the front of the Manila Bulletin. “This story is bullshit,” said Bobby as he read it. “Listen to this. ‘Brother Reyes, who runs a home for victims of child sexual abuse, said he particularly condemned men who come from other countries and abuse Filipino children.’ Whoever told him that we have a home for children?”

“You did,” answered Louie. “I heard you.”

“When?” asked Bobby.

“He asked you where was the girl and you answered ‘in my home.’” He has assumed that you meant a home that you ran.”

“And look at this,” said Bobby. “When have I been a vigorous campaigner against pedophilia”?

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“Since Friday,” answered Louie. “What is your problem?

All they say is good, not bad, and on the bright side, it must really be pissing Father Puigi off.”

Bobby laughed. “That’s true,” he said. “By the way, Pinky is coming again today to take Maggie out to the beach. I said I would go with her, why not come?”

“Naw,” said Louie. “Two’s company. Three’s a crowd.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Bobby. “It is daylight. Maggie is with us so there are already three so we are not going to be cuddling up in front of her. Come along.”

“Well,” Louie paused. “Okay. I’ll wear my red nose and clown’s hat and play with the kid.”

After breakfast on the Monday, they both sat around on the verandah. “I’m getting very bored with all of this,” said Louie. “If it wasn’t for Mia, I would be working on you to get you to agree that it is time we went home. Have you heard anything from Jun?” “Not a thing,” said Bobby. “He seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“He’ll be working out something,” assured Louie. “Jun is a good businessman. He saw the opportunity to turn your mission into a money-making business. He won’t let that go so easily.”

“I hope you are right,” said Bobby. “I am the same as you. If it were not for Pinky, I would be wanting to get out of this place. We have nothing to do.”

“The bad thing is,” observed Louie. “That in spite of the preaching being stopped, we still have to behave ourselves around here. We can’t even visit that nightclub down the road.”

“Have you heard from your parents?” asked Bobby.

“Not recently,” replied Louie. “Why?” “I thought they may have told you something about 197

what is going on with my father,” said Bobby.

“What is going on with your father?” asked Louie.

“He won’t tell me, but I think he is in some kind of trouble, business-wise,” said Bobby.

“What makes you say that?” asked Louie.

“Well,” said Bobby. “He is no longer bellicose about not sending money here. He has become almost apologetic, and when it comes to money, that is not like my father.”

“I tell you what, old buddy,” said Louie, rising. “I’ll write the oldies now. My father and yours are good friends of old.

If anything is going on my father would know about it.”

“Thanks, Louie,” said Bobby.

Jun popped around on the Tuesday morning. He did not have good news. He had been to Agoo to look for a site, but from friends there he had discovered that Father Puigi had been there before him and spent an afternoon with the local priest. The priest had already warned the council that should they allow any public lands to be used for religious services without his expressed approval, then he would campaign against them in the upcoming elections. Still, he told them not to give up hope, because he was negotiating with some owners of properties that would prove very suitable. His news did nothing to lift the sober mood of the pair.

It was on the Wednesday that a hint of what was to come occurred. For the first time since they had arrived in the house, the postman knocked on the door. Mrs. Cruz answered it and informed Bobby that there were eleven registered envelopes requiring a receipt. It was easier to invite the postman in and sign on the table.

Once the postman had left, he started to open the envelopes. Every one of them held cash and notes from the senders. They were mainly from Metro Manila area. Every 198

note thanked him for his work for abused children and enclosed a donation. When he and an amazed Louie had counted the money, it totaled nearly eight thousand pesos.

“Jesus Christ,’ said Louie. “The power of the press.”

The following day, over thirty registered letters were received as well as twenty-six ordinary letters requesting bank details into which they could transfer funds. More were received over the next few days, although the quantity each day fell until there were no more. Nevertheless, they had received directly over P60,000 and a check with their bank account indicated nearly P30,000 had been injected into it.

“Well,” said Louie. “That takes care of the next couple of months. At least it has given us a breathing space.”

Ms. Arroyo was also becoming a regular visitor, officially to keep an eye on Maggie, unofficially to drink coffee and have a gossip with Mrs. Cruz. They had learned that the DSWD would pay them P90 per day for the board and lodging of Maggie. Bobby had informed a delighted Mrs. Cruz that she should receive this and use it for Maggie’s welfare, perhaps buy her some clothing or something. The coming of Maggie had changed Mrs. Cruz totally. She had become very much alive and was considerably more friendly and talkative with both of them. “She is such a good girl,” she had remarked. “I am teaching her to cook so that later she will be able to get herself a good job in a nice house.”

Whenever she visited, Ms. Arroyo would also meet with Bobby and Louie and bring them up to date on the details of the ongoing legal process. She had told them that bail had been refused, but that Jeurgan had gotten himself a local lawyer to represent him. “Of course,” she sniffed. “He will try to bribe the judge to let him off.”

The following Monday, a letter was received from 199

Germany. It was written in English, although the title at the head of the paper was in German, so indecipherable as to what form the group took. The letter apologized for the fact that a German had been caught abusing Filipino children and that it made them very ashamed. They congratulated Father Roberto for his work in countering this and they would like to offer a gift towards expanding his home for children, but they needed advice regarding his needs. They also asked if he had a web site in order that they could follow the trial.

Bobby passed it across the Louie, who was reading it when Jun arrived and sat down. “No good news yet,” said Jun. “We are getting excellent news,” admitted Bobby, and explained to him what had been happening. Louie passed his the letter from Germany.

“Will you allow me to be your business manager in the new venture?” asked Jun. “What new venture?” asked Bobby.

“The home for sexually abused children,” said Jun. “What home for sexually abused children?” asked Louie.

“Here,’ said Jun. “This home for sexually abused children.”

“This isn’t a home for sexually abused children,” said Bobby.

“You have a young girl living with you, don’t you?” asked Jun. “Maggie?” answered Bobby. “She is still here, yes.”

“Was she sexually abused, and that is the reason she is here?” asked Jun “Of course,” butted in Louie. “You know that already.”

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“So,” said Jun, sitting back smiling. “This is a home for sexually abused child, but could well be children. And,” he continued. “If one abused child can bring in so many donations, just think how much two will do. Or ten.”

“Whoa, there,” said Bobby. You are suggesting that we start a home specifically for sexually abused children?”

“No,” said a smiling Jun. “You have already started a home. It says that in the newspapers, so it must be true.

What I am suggesting is that the business be expanded and that I be its manager, for twenty percent of income, of course.”

“Of net income,” jumped in Louie.

“Agreed,” said Jun, shaking Louie’s hand.

“Wait a minute,” said a startled Bobby. “What’s happening here?”

“I can see where Jun is coming from, and he is right,” said Louie. “Look. The facts are that you came here as a missionary. Your job was initially to convert people to Christianity.”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “And it was working.”

“Agreed,” said Louie. “It was, with the emphasis on the past tense, was working and we were becoming selfsupporting.”

“And profitable,” interrupted Jun. “Yeah,” agreed Louie. “That too. The fact is however, that you are not currently preaching, and if it had not been for Maggie being here, we would have no income at all.”

“That was not my fault,” said a subdued Bobby.

“Hey, buddy,” continued Louie. “We are not blaming you, I am only stating facts. The fact is that a lot of people believe we have a home, and because they think we are caring for kids who have been abused, they are willing to support it with large donations. Now, be honest, how 201

much really can the people around here afford to put in a collection plate. A few pesos?”

“Roberto,” butt in Jun. “Even though you are Filipino, you still think like a westerner. We Filipinos have been brought up Catholic, but a great many are not Christian, especially down south. They are in business. They cheat, they steal, they are corrupt but they make money. Lot’s of money. Deep down they know that what they do is wrong, but they also believe that if they use a very small portion and give that to charity, then they can avoid going to hell.

Your actions with the girl has obviously touched many of them, and they are offering you their support. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And,” added Louie. “You heard from Ms. Arroyo. The government can’t handle all the kids that need shelter. We have a big house here already and could accommodate probably twenty kids who need help. We would be financially stable and doing some real good.”

Bobby sat back and stared ahead, thinking. Jun and Louie looked expectantly at him. The silence went on for a few minutes, the Bobby said, “Okay. Let’s at least look into it.’

“Good,” said a beaming Jun. “Louie. Fetch me a pad and some pencils, let us start a planning meeting now.”

“Bobby,” said Louie, rising. “Why don’t you fix us three beers to give us inspiration.” Bobby smiled in agreement and also rose from the table. It was good to have a direction again.

All afternoon they discussed what they needed to do.

It became obvious that Jun was going to earn his money. At one point they had consulted on the idea with Mrs. Cruz to find out if she would object to the plan. To their surprise, Mrs. Cruz was enthusiastic and congratulated them for their 202

religiosity. For a change, without being asked, she returned from the kitchen with three more beers.

The first thing they had to do was form a company in order to obtain the necessary permits and licenses.

Although this would use up a great deal of the donations already received, they all felt it was money well invested.

They decided the company would be called the SACS, Inc., which stood for The Sexually Abused Children’s Shelter.

Jun said that his lawyer would see to the incorporation and the setting up of the bank accounts. “As this will be a non-stock, non-profit corporation, we can have anyone as incorporators, so it would be good if we ask someone wellknown and possibly powerful,” suggest Jun. He suggested the local governor who also happened to be the jeuting lord. He will accept as it will give him some respectability,” said Jun. “He will also probably give a large donation in exchange for some publicity. I will have a talk with him tomorrow.”

Mrs. Cruz had telephoned Ms. Arroyo, who came hurrying over. She provided invaluable advice regarding the items that would be required in order to get a license.

“How about the landlord?” asked Bobby. “Will he object?”

“Not if we offer him a new lease with a twenty-percent rent increase,” said Jun. “Houses of this size are not easy to lease out.”

They had been preparing a budget as they went. They would need extra beds, linens, towels, crockery, cutlery, and many other items. There were lawyer’s fees, sign-writers, stationary, a van, extra staff for cleaning and laundry, on and on it went. They even included the cost of an Internet site, which Jun thought essential to reach the foreign community.

When it was all totaled up, they could immediately see that 203

their wealth of the morning was going to receive a huge dent, and more donations would soon be required.

Pinky arrived in the late afternoon and was first told the news by Mrs. Cruz. She didn’t interrupt the meeting, but waited until Jun had departed. It was agreed that Jun would work out of the study in order to be close at hand.

Pinky was very excited. “I will help,” she said. “But only at weekends.”

“Why only at weekends?” asked Bobby, a bit disappointed.

“Because I have been thinking about this project while waiting for your meeting to finish,” she said. “These girls will all be traumatized and be in need of professional help. I have decided that I will apply at the College in Baguio to join their course on child psychology. Once I have completed the course, I will be very useful to my man.” She kissed him on the lips. “Must fly now,” she said. “Mama has guests and wants me there. Bye, darling.”

After they had opened a post-dinner wine, Bobby asked Louie, “Are we doing the right thing. I mean, God won’t strike us with lightening, will he?”

Louie laughed. “Why would he do that? We will be genuinely helping people who need help. If we make a little money doing it, so what?”

27

The Money Tree Named Sacs The next two weeks went in a whirl of activity. The car was sold and a utility vehicle purchased, one that had bench seats in the back, but that could also be used for transporting goods. Jun was a gem of a man. He had traveled to Angeles City to purchase much of their requirements from stores that still had material looted from the Clark Airbase, and so kept expenditure well below their budget.

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The governor had been delighted with the idea of him being a major incorporator of SACS, and had not only promptly agreed, but also had written a check for onehundred thousand pesos to be used in the set-up. This greatly relieved any perceived financial pressure on the group. Both Bobby and Louie had been cross-examined by representatives of the DSWD who had assured them of them getting their license to operate once the corporation was registered. Initially it would cover a maximum of thirty children. While all of this was going on, Bobby also had to be ready for the commencement of Jeurgan’s trial at the end of the fortnight. He held meetings with the Public Prosecutor who advised him that they should employ the services of a Private Prosecutor to assist him he said, but in reality to lead the prosecution. As he explained, he had so many other cases to deal with at the same time, he wouldn’t be able to give one-hundred percent attention, thus giving Jeurgan a chance of being acquitted. He recommended a lawyer from Angeles City. Bobby suspected that he would be getting a cut of the fee, but went along with the idea.

Bobby had to admit, though, that the lawyer, Ben Lopez, was very bright and aggressive. He visited the house, and he sat with Maggie and went over her story. “Maggie,” he said gently. “There is a nasty man we call the lawyer for the defense. He will question you. I cannot stop this. All I ask of you is that you stick to your story. Don’t change it in any way, because if you start to make things up that didn’t happen, then nobody will believe what did. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Maggie. “I just tell him what I told you.”

“Yes,” said Atty. Lopez. “He will suggest that other things happened. He is hoping you will agree with him. Don’t. Just stick to what did happen.”

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Atty. Lopez later told Bobby over a glass of wine that the opposing lawyer would try to give Maggie a hard time. There were no rules protecting child witnesses in the Philippines. He suggested that a woman gently coach her into saying that she was not aware of her loss of virginity.

That she couldn’t remember having sex with any boy or boys. If she stuck to that, it would be easier. Bobby was a bit shocked. He hadn’t realized just what an ordeal this could be for Maggie.

He had told Pinky what the lawyer had suggested, and she volunteered to sit and talk with Maggie, going over various possibilities, and to also be with her in court for the trial.

On the day the trial commenced, they all got in the back of the transit van and went to the court.

This being his first time in any court, let alone one in the Philippines, he was shocked. The court was held in an airless room about forty feet long and thirty feet wide. The only natural light came a line of grimy windows set high in one side wall, otherwise two double-tube fluorescents cast a ghostly glow over everything. Seating was in the form of wooden pews, wedged against one wall and leaving narrow gap at the other. The judge would sit behind a raised bench in the front alongside of which was a chair for the witness.

In front of the bench and at right-angles to it was a table on which was set a stenographer’s machine. A narrow table ran in front of the pews of the first row. On this bench Bobby could see the Public Prosecutor with Atty. Lopez, who were chatting to another seated man who was obviously the defending lawyer.

A tubby lady carrying a number of files entered from a door in the side, placed the files on the table then shouted, “All rise. Regional Trial Court 1731 under Judge Vincente 206

Ortigo is now in session. The judge in his black robe made his entry from a door set in the wall behind his bench. Before he could sit, however, there was the noise of bustling behind Bobby, who turning, could see a number of hand-cuffed prisoners being ushered in by armed guards and directed into the last two rows. All of them wore orange t-shirts and Jeurgan was among them. The judge waited until they were in position before seating himself. He then leaned over and had a conversation with the woman. She turned and called a name. One of the prisoners at the back, was ushered out past the cramped knees of his fellow inmates and down the aisle to the bench. A man in a suit had risen from the second row, obviously the prisoner’s lawyer and was in conversation with the judge. There being no sound system, Bobby couldn’t hear what was being said. The judge had a last comment and the prisoner just nodded and was led back to the bench. Another name was called. The attorney who had come forward behind the first prisoner had not returned to his seat, so was obviously a court appointed lawyer representing a number of the prisoners.

The courtroom got hotter. The only means of cooling was an overhead fan. Bobby had noticed two, rusting old airconditioning units on the floor behind the last bench, obviously awaiting removal for repair. He had sat behind Atty. Lopez, who now leaned back and said,” The judge is dispensing with the minor offenses first. Ours will be last.”

Pinky sat alongside Bobby, next to Maggie. They were holding hands. Louie was sat the other side of them with a notebook on his lap. Eventually, their case was called, the lawyers representing each side introduced themselves and had their names recorded, and because the only documents or items required to be recorded as evidence were the medico-legal report and the statements by Maggie, Bobby 207

and Louie, which were duly allotted reference numbers, the prosecution was called to produce its evidence. Pinky took Maggie to the front and settled her into the witness chair.

The judge was very nice to her. He leaned over and quietly asked if she understood that she was going to take an oath, a promise not to lie, and did she understand that it was a very serious thing to lie to the court. Maggie quietly affirmed she understood, and was handed a Bible by the lady who administered the oath.

Just as Atty. Lopez rose to begin questioning Maggie, the defense attorney also stood up. “Before questioning of this witness commences,” he said. “May I request your honor to have the court cleared.”

“Explain you motion,” said the judge.

“Your honor,” he continued. “I have noticed the presence of two of the witnesses for the prosecution and the complainant’s testimony may influence their own.”

“Objection,” said Atty. Lopez. “The complainant is resident in the home of Brother Reyes, and he has had ample opportunity to learn of the girl’s testimony.”

“Objection overruled,” said the judge. “Also, being a man of the cloth, this court can trust the integrity of the future witness.”

Atty. Lopez, asking one question at a time, established that Maggie had met the defendant on the main highway, where she had asked him for money so that she could purchase food. That she did not have a home with any legal guardians. That Jeurgan had been kind and told her that although he had no money that he would take her somewhere and give her food. He had held her hand as though he was a kind uncle and they had turned from the main road down a side street. As they were passing the empty block, he had asked her if she had seen a multi-colored bird. She told him 208

she had not, so he gently dragged her into the block because he said it had gone behind the bushes. Once there he had held he and bent and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She had got frightened because he was being rough and pulled away. He had then pulled her to him and forced his hands up under her skirt and between her legs. She had felt his finger forced into her private parts and it had hurt.

She then saw him being grabbed around the throat by a man she now knew was Brother Roberto Reyes, but the man had tried to hit him when another man she knew as Tito Louie had hit the man. Brother Reyes had stood over the man while Tito went to their house and returned with a car and driver, and then they had all gone to the police station. It all appeared very straight forward. There was very little doubt that Maggie had been forcefully abused sexually.

“Your witness,” said Atty. Lope, sitting down. The defense lawyer rose. “Your honor,” he began. “As it is close to lunchtime, and my cross may be lengthy, may I request a deferment until the next session.”

“Objection,” said Lopez. “There is ample time for cross before lunch and we could continue after lunch if need be.”

“Objection over-ruled,” said the judge. “I have another case after lunch. We will resume on – “ he looked at a large calendar advertising tires on the side wall. He then named a date two weeks hence, but afternoon. He then declared the court adjourned and banged his gavel.

Outside, Bobby expressed his amazement. “We only had half-an-hour of trial and now we have to wait another two weeks for its continuation,” he wailed to Atty. Lopez.

“This is normal in the Philippines,” said a calm Lopez.

“But it is stupid,” objected Bobby. “You have driven all the way from Angeles City for ten minutes work. It is so inefficient.”

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Lopez smiled broadly. He didn’t know just how long it would take Bobby to realize his fee was for attendance, not by the hour. “There is no point getting upset about it,” he said. “This is how the justice system works in the Philippines.

“But he is so clearly guilty, and yet the way this is going it could be months before the trial ends.”

“Some take years,” said Lopez, getting into his car. “I’ll see you in a fortnight.”

Bobby trotted over to where the rest were waiting. “If this is Philippine justice, then I think it sucks,” he remarked as he climbed in.

28

Justice- Philippine Style His frustration was soon forgotten though, in the following two weeks. They had received approval for the company from the Securities and Exchange Commission in Manila and had opened their bank account. The signatories were Jun and Louie, who were enthusiastically monitoring the books. A large sign was mounted at the front of the house. They had a local computer genius set them up an Internet web site, and Louie had discovered a talent he didn’t know he had, that of a writer. He wrote up the trial with commentary condemning the system and the prolonged anguish to the poor victims and how Brother Roberto had vowed to fight it. He had prepared letters for Bobby to sign that had been sent national newspapers, carrying the full address of SACS, with the interpretation of course, and their web-site address. A number of newspapers published the letters and this resulted in another trickle of donations.

“I am getting the hang of this,” said Louie. “Publicity is what you have to have.”

Although they also required many other locally issued 210

licenses and permits, a few telephone calls from the governor had overcome any objections. The day after the DSWD license was issued, Ms. Arroyo turned up with a 14-yearold girl whose Australian stepfather had continually raped.

Apparently, her mother had left him, so he had turned to her for his sexual gratification, threatening to kill her unless she joined him in the marital bed. Her pregnancy and almost botched abortion had brought the situation to light, and the stepfather was currently in jail awaiting trial. The DSWD wanted Bobby to be the complainant because the mother refused saying that it was the girl’s own fault because she was always encouraging her husband. “Always walking around the house with just a short towel around her making cows eyes at him. It was bound to cause trouble,” she had said. “I came home and caught them at it, and it didn’t look as though she was putting up any fight. Cooperating, yes.

Fighting, no.”

“Will you be saying that in court?” asked Bobby. “No. I want that bastos to hang. He used to beat me. I am well rid of them both. I am going to Manila and find work.”

“What are we going to do about this one?” Bobby asked Louie. “The guy was seduced.”

“Bobby,” said Louie. “We milk it. The guy is not innocent. He knew her age. He should have said no. There is no money in defense. I’ll write your attitude to this case and put it on the web.”

“You had better let me see it first,” said Bobby.

“Sure I will,” laughed Louie. “Did you like the Newsletter?”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “I meant to congratulate you on that.

It is great.”

“I have sent one to everybody who sent us a donation, including to Germany,” laughed Louie.

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The next session in court was far from pleasant. Not only was the court even hotter, it being an afternoon session, but poor Maggie was put through hell by the defense attorney.

At first he was sweetness and light. “Now Margaret,” he commenced. “Or may I call you Maggie?” She quietly agreed.

“Now, Maggie,” he recommenced. “You do remember what his honor told you last time, about telling the truth?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I mustn’t lie or I will be in trouble.”

“Good girl,” he smiled. “Now Maggie. On that particular Wednesday –“ “It was Friday,” she interrupted. “Good girl,” thought Bobby.

“Oh, yes,” he continued. “On that Friday, you say that you were on the highway.”

He looked at her waiting for an answer.

“Objection,” said Atty. Lopez, standing.

“What is your objection?” asked the judge.

“My honorable friend is inferring a question rather than asking a specific question.”

“Objection sustained,” said the judge. Atty. Beniz. “You know better than that. Please frame direct and positive questions to the witness.”

“Yes, your honor,” said Beniz with a slight bow of the head. “Now, Maggie. On that Friday were you on the main highway?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Maggie.

“And while there, you have stated that you saw the accused walking by himself towards you, is that so?”

Maggie agreed. “Then you say that you stopped him and asked him if he could give you some money. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” said Maggie.

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“Remember what we talked about. Telling the truth. Did you, in fact. Not just ask for money, but offer the accused your sexual services in exchange for money?”

Maggie looked confused. “I don’t understand, sir.”

“Then I will be more specific. Did you or did you not offer to masturbate the accused in exchange for money?” asked Atty. Beniz.

“What is masturbate?” asked Maggie, with genuine innocence.

“Masturbate, child. Masturbate,” shouted a frustrated Beniz. “You know. Put your hand around his penis and –“ With this the attorney clenched his fist and made a pumping motion.

“Attorney Benez,” interrupted the judge. “Although your demonstration may make it clear to those of us in this court, the blushing stenographer is finding it difficult to place on record.”

“I apologize, your honor,” he turned to Maggie. “What I mean by masturbate, Maggie, is that you take his penis in your hand and rapidly rub it up and down until he emits semen.”

Maggie looked puzzled. “I only asked him for money to buy food, sir. I had not had anyone give me breakfast.”

“Are you still a virgin, Maggie?” asked the attorney.

“Objection,” shouted Lopez jumping to his feet. “My learned friend is breaking the rules of court. His crossexamination must be confined to questions and answers given in direct. The record will show that I did not raise the question of virginity because the testimony of the medicolegal doctor has yet to be introduced into evidence.”

“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “Please keep your questions within the rules, Attorney Beniz.”

“Yes, your honor. Now Maggie,” he turned and smiled.

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“How old are you?”

“Twelve or thirteen I think,” answered Maggie.

“Well, what is it?” continued Beniz, looking towards the back of the court. “In what year were you born?”

“I don’t know, sir.” she answered.

“Where are your parents?” he asked.

“They are both dead, sir,” she answered.

“From whom did you get this information?” asked the attorney.

“From neighbors,” she said. “The people who would sometimes let me sleep in their house and would give me something to eat.”

“So,” continued the attorney. “Who has your birth certificate?”

“I don’t know, sir,” she answered.

“So the truth is,” continued the lawyer. “You have no idea as to how old you are. You could be, say eleven?”

“No, sir,” she said. “I know I am older than that.”

“Then you could be, say fifteen,” continued the lawyer.

“No, sir,” answered Maggie. “I know I am not that old.”

“How do you know?” asked the lawyer.

“If I was fifteen,” said a confident Maggie. “I would have grown sous-sous. I am still flat.” She ran both hands down across her breast area, so even Bobby didn’t need an interpretation. Everyone in the court laughed, including the judge.

“But you could be fourteen,” pushed the attorney.

“No, sir,” she said adamantly. “My friends who are fourteen start bleeding from down there.”

The court had become even hotter. The attorney turned a page on his pad. “Now. Maggie,” he said. “You say that the accused led you down the side road. Had you ever been down that road before?”

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“Many times,” answered Maggie.

“Why,” asked the attorney. “Did you visit friends along that road?”

“No, sir,” she answered.

“Then why did you go down there?” asked the attorney.

“It was somewhere to go. To sometimes find food,” answered Maggie.

“So,” said the attorney. “You admit to being familiar with the road. Did you know that there were also empty lots along that road that had bushes that hide you from the road?”

“Yes, sir,” admitted Maggie.

“Is it not possible then,” he asked. “That far from the accused, a stranger in this area, leading you along the road, that in fact, it was you who suggested it and actually took him by the hand and led his to the vacant lot?”

“No, sir,” answered Maggie. “He told me to go with him and he would give me food. I thought he lived along that road.”

“Do you think the accused knew that there were vacant lots along that road?” he asked.

“Objection,” shouted Lopez standing again. “My learned friend is asking the witness for an opinion.”

“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “Stick to facts, Attorney Benez.”

“Yes, your honor,” he said with another slight bow. “No more questions, your honor, although I reserve the right to further question the witness during rebuttal.”

“That is noted, Attorney Benez,” said the judge. “Will you want to redirect?”

“May I reserve my re-direct for a later time, your honor?”

“You may. The witness is dismissed for now, but should 215

be available at a date to be determined in the future,” he said. “Now before I adjourn, let us set the date of the next hearing. Having read some of the letters that have been published about this case, perhaps we will speed it up in order not to be criticized by the clergy. Same time, same day next week. Court adjourned.” He rapped his gavel, stood up and disappeared through his door at the rear of the bench.

Attorney Lopez turned and indicated they should meet outside.

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “If you send the others ahead, I pass your gate on the way home anyway. I will drop you off.”

Bobby sent the van off and joined Attorney Lopez. They found a small eatery, went into the air-conditioned area and ordered iced tea.

“We may have a problem if we do not head it off,” started Lopez.

“What problem,” asked Bobby.

“An age problem. I can see what way Beniz is going. He is very sharp.”

“Explain,” asked Bobby.

“His questions today about just how old is Maggie,” said Lopez. “At the moment his client is charged under Republican Act 7610. This act covers sexual offenses against young people, usually of those of less than fourteen years of age. At the moment, we cannot offer either documentary evidence or witnesses that can affirm Maggie is indeed below the age of fourteen. If he can cast sufficient doubt then even if he cannot convince this judge that his client has been charged and suffered trial under the wrong law, then he would certainly have a chance of success upon appeal.”

“How can we stop that happening?” asked Bobby.

“There is no doubt in my mind that Jeurgan is a pedophile 216

and a danger to children and should be in jail.”

“Mine neither,” said Lopez. “But we are not dealing here with perceptions but the black and white of the law. Even though a foreigner he has the Constitutional right to be presumed innocent until we can prove him guilty beyond reasonable doubt. He has the right to be charged and tried on the correct statute. The charge being under RA 7610, in the absence of a birth certificate, we now have to present credible witnesses to testify as to her real age. I would hate for this animal to walk from the court.”

“That attorney gave poor Maggie a hard time,” observed Bobby.

“Do not judge him harshly,” said Lopez. “He is just doing his job, and very well too.”

“How can I help?” asked Bobby.

“Find a good Filipino who can investigate Maggie’s past,” said the attorney. “Somebody must know her history and be able to testify when and where she was born. It is no good you trying to do this yourself, as the information will come from the poor areas and few there speak English.”

“I’ll get Jun to fix it,” said Bobby.

“If you don’t want to see that German walk out of court laughing at you, then it is very important,” said Lopez.

“Now. I will drop you off.”

29

From Child To Children Later that afternoon Bobby went into the office to talk to Jun. Louie was there writing up the afternoon’s events prior to posting them on the SACS website. Bobby took a chair and told Jun about the problem of establishing Maggie’s age and its importance. “I have just the person to get that information,” said Jun. “We will have to pay him a thousand, but he will get what we want. We may have a 217

problem with the new girl, though.”

I haven’t met her yet,” said Bobby. “Have you Louie?”

“Yeah,” answered Louie without looking up from the screen. “And I am staying out of her way. She is definitely jail bait.”

“Mrs. Cruz is not impressed with her,” said Jun. “She answers her back and is a bit of a tart.”

“Maybe what her mother says is true,” said Bobby.

“What do we do? Withdraw the complaint?”

“We cannot be seen to do that,” said Jun. “After all, she is under age and her stepfather had been having sex with her. There is little doubt though that she encouraged him and he is not an intelligent man.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “I have got to see the prosecutor tomorrow. What do I tell him?”

“I know the prosecutor and so do you,” said Jun. “He is a good man and smart. I suggest that you instruct him to not oppose bail. He will get the message that all is not well.”

“What good will that do?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” answered Jun. “I will then get one of my friends to write to the Bureau of Immigration expressing disgust and fear that this pervert is loose in our area. They will come and arrest him, take him to Manila and then deport him as an undesirable alien. He will be out of our hair then.”

“But that doesn’t solve our problem with the girl,” said Bobby. “We are committed to having her here until she reaches sixteen.”

“Don’t worry about the girl,” said Jun. “She will soon run away anyway. She is destined to work in the bars in Angeles or Manila. She likes controlling older men.”

“So,” said Bobby. “There is no mileage for us out of this one.”

“There certainly will be, buddy,” said Louie, sitting back 218

from the computer. “I will have you ranting on the web and in our newsletters about how the Bureau of Immigration are assisting pedophiles to escape justice by deporting them before they get to court. That will also be the subject of your letters to the editors of the newspapers. It’s a win-win situation.”

Bobby smiled. “Where did you find this previously unknown talent for public relations?” he asked.

“I know,” answered Louie also smiling. “I’m amazed at it myself, but it sure is fun.”

Three days later, Bobby was called into the office by Jun. There were three people there, one man and two women. The women were poorly dressed and were probably not as old as they looked. Bobby was introduced to the man, who was the one Jun had paid to investigate some of the background of Maggie. He had spent an hour with the girl a couple of days previously, making notes of all she could remember, and had set of for a barrio that was twenty minutes away by jeepney. Bobby had assumed that Maggie was a local girl, but this was not so. The man told him that Maggie had heard that she had an aunt living in the barrio at the back of the house and a year previously had walked here and tried to locate her. Because of this, few of the locals knew about her past. Once he had found the barrio in which she had been born, it was easy, as many knew about the tragic fire in which her parents had died. The two women he had brought along had been present at her birth, and although they couldn’t be precise about the actual date, they knew the month and the year. The reason for this was that one of them had given birth herself just two months previously, and, surprisingly had not only registered her son’s birth but also had a baptismal certificate. Maggie was to turn thirteen on the following month, although on an unknown date.

219

Bobby telephoned Attorney Lopez immediately.

Fortunately, he was in his office. He asked him what they should do. He advised them to take a written deposition from each and have it notarized. He stressed that they should be given P500 each right away and promised another P500 if they showed up at the court the following week. He sounded very happy.

Bobby left the women with Jun and went to the kitchen to ask Mrs. Cruz to take the visitors some snacks.

Louie went into the room too and sat at the computer to transcribe their statements. It took over two hours because the women could not speak English. They had to give one sentence at a time, while Jun stood looking over Louie’s shoulder spelling each word out for him. Eventually, it was completed and printed. One woman signed while the other asked for an inkpad in order to place her thumbprint. She was unable to write her name. Jun gave the women the money as suggested and their smiles lit up the room. He also explained that they should either come to the house early on Wednesday morning or wait outside of the court and they would receive another sum for their troubles.

Louie had no doubt that they would be there.

Bobby had seen the public prosecutor and made his suggestion regarding the old Australian being allowed bail. Peter, as he was now called, raised his eyebrows and smiled. He instinctively knew what it was all about. “The case that bad, huh?” he asked. “Let’s say it will not do a great deal towards improving your reputation,” answered Bobby, smiling.

“You know, Brother,” said Peter, while making a note. “I think that I am going to enjoy working with you.”

Later that day, the Australian was released after depositing P5,000 for his bail and leaving his passport with 220

the court. One week later, he was arrested by agents of the Bureau of Immigration on the initial basis that he was an undocumented alien, being unable to produce his passport.

His explanations that his passport was held by the court fell on deaf ears and he was whisked away to the Bureau’s cell in Manila. Two weeks later, Mrs. Cruz gravely announced that the girl had taken her clothes and disappeared into the night, so all was well that ends well. The stepfather had been hurriedly deported as an undesirable alien and the letters

by Bobby to the press expressing his outrage at the Bureau’s assistance in letting a pedophile escape justice were all published, and, in some cases elicited letters of support from others. This exercise netted them nearly P25,000 in donations and another e-mailed letter from the German institution asking him to state how they could assist his work.

“We need more kids than just one,” said Louie. It was if she had heard, because five minute later Ms. Arroyo arrived holding the hand of a sweet-looking girl of about thirteen.

They went into the lounge and Ms. Arroyo introduced her a Annalyne. Mrs. Cruz was called and Maggie entered the room with her. Annalyne seemed a little frightened but the motherly smile of Mrs. Cruz seemed to calm her. Then Maggie, smiling, came across the room and speaking to her in Ilocano, held out her hand. The girl stood, held onto the hand of Maggie and they both left the lounge. “There,” said Mrs. Cruz. “Little Maggie will help her settle down. I will let them sleep in the same room.”

Once she had departed, Ms. Arroyo handed over a sheaf of papers and explained the problem. Annalyne was one of twelve children. Her father was a tricycle driver and her mother picked up jobs wherever she could. The children were totally unsupervised.

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Apparently, Annalyne had met with a middle-aged German on the beach. He had bought her ice-cream and had persuaded her to go with him to his room in one of the resorts that front the beach. The guard had not stopped them from entering, but had reported it to the owner as soon as he saw him. The owner took the master key and the two guards and went and opened up the room. What he saw horrified him. The girl was naked on the bed and the also naked guest was stood adjusting a camera he had set up on a tripod. His erection was obvious to them all. The owner immediately left the guards with him while he telephoned the police. They allowed the German to get dressed and confiscated his camera. On searching the room they found a large quantity of pornographic photographs, many of them with the German himself in the frame carrying out sexual acts on young girls. The German was being held in San Fernando jail and the court had ordered the child be placed in care and protection only that morning. Ms. Arroyo felt that SCAPS would be the best place for her. Would they take her in? Of course they would. The necessary forms were duly signed and Ms. Arroyo left.

“Boy oh boy,” said Louie. “How lucky can we get? You have got to poke your nose in on this one.”

“How can I do that?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” said Jun, butting in. “The parents are poor. They will not be able to afford a private prosecutor. If we provide one, then we can claim the credit.”

“Great,” said Louie. “Let me go through those papers and start the story. The Germans will love this, another one from their country. Bobby, why don’t you take a trip into town and see your buddy Pete. He will love you if you tell him we will provide the prosecutor.”

“He’s right, Bobby,” said Jun. “This is too good an 222

opportunity to miss.”

30

Medico-Legals Evidence Bobby’s offer to Peter was gratefully accepted by the latter. Bobby telephone Attorney Lopez and asked him if he would take on another case.

“If you keep on like this, Brother,” he had said. “I may come and live in San Fernando. I’ll be there tomorrow for the trial. Can you make an appointment for us to pick up all the documents?”

They were all at the court the following morning. As expected, the two women, obviously dressed in their best clothes, were waiting for them outside. Bobby introduced them to Atty. Lopez and he sat on a bench with them and patiently explained to them what would happen and the questions he would ask. They then proceeded into the cramped courtroom.

Once the judge had started proceedings, Lopez requested he be allowed to enter the two affidavits into evidence. The defense lawyer objected, but the objection was over-ruled after Lopez explained that the two ladies were present in court and could be questioned regarding them. One of the ladies was then called to the witness stand.

The judge called for an interpreter, not because either of the lawyers or judge had any problem with the local language, but rather for the sake of the stenographer whose record had to be in English.

“Objection to the witness, your honor,” said Attorney Benez.

“On what grounds?” asked the judge.

“I do not see the relevance to this case,” said Benez.

“Attorney Lopez?” asked the judge.

“During the last hearing your honor, my learned friend 223

extensively questioned the complainant about her age.

He strongly inferred that there was no proof that she was indeed below the age of fourteen. In the event that this could not be proven, there would be doubt as to whether the accused had been charged and was being tried under the appropriate statute. It is our intention by bringing these witnesses to the actual birth of the complainant to prove beyond any doubt that the complainant will only attain the age of thirteen next month.”

“Objection over-ruled,” said the judge. “You may present the witnesses and the affidavits shall be entered into evidence. Mark them as A4 and A5.”

“Thank you, your honor,” said Atty. Lopez with slight incline of his head.

Slowly, Lopez took the first, and strongest witness through her statement. She had been present at Maggie’s birth. She herself had given birth to a boy who at the time was two months old. She had registered the birth of her son and could produce the certificate. On cross-examination, Atty. Benez almost accused her of lying, but she quietly stuck to her story.

The second witness reiterated that of the first, and Atty.

Benez clearly signaled is defeat on the issue by forgoing cross-examination. The witnesses were duly dismissed.

Atty. Lopez the called the medico-legal officer, Dr. Pamela Lourdes. Her certificate had already been entered into evidence, so it was handed to her and she was requested to read her findings. Atty. Lopez knew that Benez would use the healed laceration to attempt to prove that Maggie was a girl of loose morals, so he had no choice but to bring it up himself. First though, he concentrated on the issue at hand.

“Dr. Lourdes,” he commenced. “You found that there was slight bruising on the inside of the thigh. Would this 224

bruising have been consistent with someone forcing their hand between legs clamped together in resistance?”

“Yes,” said the doctor. “The position was just above the knees where the legs would be the most closed. There is less pressure above this point as the thighs cannot actually be clamped together.”

“I see,” said Lopez. “So these indicate that the victim was strenuously resisting the accused from touching her private parts.”

“Yes,” answered the doctor.

“Now,” continued Lopez. “The bruising on the back.

Could this have been caused by a hit?”

“No,” she answered. “It was slight and caused by the application of pressure rather than a blow.”

“Could it have been caused by her being held tightly from a person stood in front of her?”

“That is what most probably caused the bruise,” answered the doctor, unwittingly affirming both Bobby’s and Louie’s testimonies as yet to be heard.

“Now,” continued Lopez, fully knowing he was now entering dangerous waters. “You examination of the vaginal area. Here you found a small and recent laceration. Can you place a time period of when this was caused prior to examination?”

“The laceration was still in the discharge stage so it would have been received two days or less before my examination.”

Bobby was more than a little embarrassed about this very public discussion of the most private area of Maggie’s body. He glanced at her and her head was down, seemingly studying her sandals.

“What could have caused such a laceration?” asked Lopez.

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“It was obviously caused by the forced entry of a foreign body,” answered the doctor.

“Such as a foreign finger?” asked Lopez.

“Objection,” shouted Atty. Benez.

“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “Kindly rephrase you question, Attorney Lopez.

“Certainly, your honor, said Lopez, noticing though, the slight smile on the judges face. “Dr. Lourdes,” he resumed.

“Could such a laceration have been caused by the forced entry of a finger?’

“Yes, it could,” answered the doctor.

“Yet in your report you state that the vagina indicated resistance to the insertion of the small finger. Were you referring to your own small finger?”

“I was,” answered the doctor. “It is standard practice in examinations of this type of case for the resistance to insertion of foreign bodies be checked.”

“Excuse my ignorance of the female body, doctor,” said Atty. Lopez. “But could you explain to me why such a test is standard?” It was obvious to all that he knew the answer.

“Well,” said the doctor, settling back as though pleased to be asked to lecture on the subject. “The vagina has the amazing ability to stretch and allow the passage of objects up to quite a sizable diameter. A baby’s head, for example, is able to pass through during birth. However, although very elastic, the vagina once stretched never returns to the diameter it was during the virginity stage and depending on circumstances, it can offer less resistance to the size of inserted object. For example, a married woman who regularly has sexual relations with her husband will have less vaginal resistance than a girl who has only indulged in sexual intercourse just once. A woman who has given birth to a child will have even less resistance. So, by checking the 226

resistance to the insertion of say a finger, we can determine to some extent the sexual activity of that woman.”

“Very interesting,” said Lopez. “So the victims vagina was, shall we say, quite tight.”

“Yes,” said the doctor. “Even though the laceration indicated the recent insertion of a foreign body.”

“Yes,” said Lopez, appearing to look at his notes. Now far the hard bit. “Doctor,” he said. “You state here that the girl was of a non-virgin state. What exactly do you mean by that?”

“The hymen had been broken at some time in the past.

We consider the virgin state to be when the hymen is intact.”

“Yet, doctor,” he continued. “To most of us, and indeed, the dictionary, a virgin means that the male or female had never indulged in sexual intercourse. Does your report infer the victim has previously indulged in sexual intercourse?”

“No,” answered the doctor. “It has become normal to use the term non-virgin in the case where the hymen has been ruptured. However, there are many ways other than sexual intercourse to rupture the thin membrane that covers the entry to the vagina during childhood.”

“Such as?” asked Lopez.

“The playing of sports such as tennis, running, jumping, horse riding. Other vigorous activity such as tree climbing and, in some cases the girl vigorously scratching herself.” answered the doctor.

“Your report,” continued Lopez, also mentions a healed laceration at six o’clock. When could this laceration have occurred?”

“I cannot tell you when it occurred, only when it did not occur,” she answered.

“Very well,” continued Lopez. “I will rephrase the question. Can you tell me when the healed laceration did 227

not occur?”

“It did not occur in the seven to ten days prior to my examination. This would be the healing period, and this laceration was an old scar.”

“Together with the broken hymen, does this tell us that sometime in the past the victim has indulged in sexual intercourse?” asked Lopez. Attorney Benez was tapping his pencil on the table, a look of frustration on his face because he knew that sting was being taken out of his crossexamination. Atty. Lopez was asking the questions he had been anticipating, and leading the doctor to give more favorable answers than he would have.

“No,” said the doctor. “The laceration could have been caused by the insertion of any foreign body, not necessarily a penis.”

“But surely,” said Lopez. “This means that the victim may have been sexually assaulted at some time in the past.”

“Not necessarily,” answered the doctor. “Many girls are curious about sex and some insert objects into their own vagina in order to find out what it may feel like.”

“Thank you, doctor,” said Attorney Lopez. “No further questions.”

“Attorney Benez,” said the judge. “Are you ready for cross?”

“Yes, your honor,” said Benez standing. “Although the subject appears to have been thoroughly examined by my learned friend. Now, Dr. Lourdes,” he started. “How long have you been the medico-legal officer in San Fernando?”

“Three years, but before that I was five years in Manila,” she answered.

“And in that time, how many girls of similar age have you examined?” he asked.

“I really couldn’t place an accurate figure on it,” she 228

said. “But in Manila there were at least three every week.”

“Oh,” said Benez, obviously disappointed in that he couldn’t attack her experience or competence. “Now, doctor,” he continued. “Can you say with certainty that the complainant has never indulged in sexual intercourse with a male?”

“No,” answered the doctor. “I cannot say with certainty that she is still technically a virgin. Surely, only the girl herself can tell you that?” There was a little laughter.

“No further questions,” said a gruff-voiced Benez, sitting.

“Redirect?” asked the judge to Lopez, eyebrows raised.

“No further questions, you honor,” said Lopez.

“The witness is dismissed,” said the judge. “I propose the next hearing be one week from today at the same time.

Are you both available?”

Both lawyers nodded their accent. “Court adjourned,” said the judge, banging his gavel.

Outside, a beaming Lopez said, “I think that all went very well today,” he said. “Attorney Benez is looking a bit rattled, but we won’t count our chickens. There is a long way to go. Now, can we pick up the papers on Annalyne?”

They wandered across the road to Peter’s office. He greeted them with a smile. “It went great today,” he said.

He handed them photocopies of his file on the Annalyne case, and gave them a receipt for the cost of copying. He handed over another file for them to view in his office. It contained all the photographs seized at the hotel room, plus the ones developed from the camera. Bobby felt sick at some of the images. A great number featured oral sex both given and received, but some clearly showed the large man actually having sex and in some cases sodomizing the girls.

“If we could locate some of these other girls, the ones he is 229

having intercourse with, we could have this one sentenced to death,” said Peter.

“Look,” said Bobby. “If I buy a scanner for the computer, would you bring these to my place and let me scan them? We could do some investigation and see if we can track some of the girls down. They are all Filipinas and the backgrounds look as though they’re in hotel rooms.”

“Hey,” said Peter. “If you could, that would be great.

Our problem is that Annalyne is still a virgin, so all we can charge him with is acts of lasciviousness. He can get ten years for that, but this one deserves to die.”

“I agree,” said Attorney Lopez. “Annalyne was lucky. I do not believe she would have been a virgin had the owner entered the room an hour later.”

“Settled then,” said Bobby. “I’ll get Louie onto it once we get back and perhaps you can drop by after court tomorrow and have a drink with us.”

“I would love that,” said Peter. “I’ll bring the file with me.”

31

Serious Stuff When Bobby arrived back and told Louie about his plans to get a scanner the following day, he was surprised at his reaction. “Have you gone off your goddamned head?” he said. “You are starting to believe your own bullshit. What day is it tomorrow?”

Bobby thought for a minute. “Thursday?” he asked.

“Yes,” agreed Louie. “It is Thursday and what happens on Thursdays?

“Oh, hell,” said Bobby. “Pinky and Mia. It’s our day off.”

“Right pal,” said Louie. “And I am not going to put off seeing Mia just to scan dirty pictures. You do it.”

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“No,” said Bobby panicking. “Pinky will soon be in Baguio on Thursdays. I’ll phone Peter and put it off until Friday.”

“Great,” said Louie. “Do that.”

Peter understood and said that Friday would be better because he could relax with not having to think about going to work the following day.

Later that evening, when the house had settled down and Jun had gone home, they sat on the verandah with a bottle of wine and had a serious talk.

“You know Bobby,” commenced Louie. “I’m getting worried about you.”

“Why is that?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” continued Louie. “You are really getting into this thing. It is beginning to take you over.”

“In what way?” Asked Bobby.

“Well,” said Louie. “You are becoming obsessed. You are even studying those law books old Lopez loaned you.”

“Well,” said Bobby, defensively. “It helps me understand the case.”

“Sure. Sure,” said Louise, sipping his wine. “This is a very good wine.”

“Yeah,” agreed Bobby also taking a sip.

“We couldn’t have afforded such a wine just a month ago,” noted Louie.

“Yeah,” laughed Bobby. “Times were hard.”

“Exactly,” said Louie. “Times were hard, but they are not now.”

“What are you getting at?” asked Bobby.

“What I am saying is sure, we are doing a good thing looking after the girls,” said Louie. “Taking care of them, taking them to court and all of that. It really is a Christian thing to do.”

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“Gives you a good feeling, doesn’t it?” asked Bobby, smiling.

“Sure,” agreed Louie. “A great feeling, but don’t let us lose sight of the eight-ball.”

“I don’t get you,” said Bobby.

“The point is, Bobby,” said Louie. “The reason we can afford to drink such a great wine is that we now have money.

That is why we’re doing this. To make money. If we help a few girls on the way, then great. But don’t let us lose sight of our purpose. To make money, lots of money. That was what we all agreed.”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “You’re right.”

“But to do that, we need your cooperation,” said Louie.

“You are the front man. We need you, do you understand?”

“What do you mean?” asked Bobby, helping himself to more wine.

“I have been discussing it with Jun,” said Louie. “He is one smart man. We’re lucky to have him with us.”

“I thought we all discussed things together,” said a slightly peeved Bobby.

“You were in town,” said Louie. “Anyway, we have mapped out a medium term plan.”

“Well,” asked Bobby. “Are you going to let me in on this great plan?”

“Well,” said Louie. “The first thing is that we have to fill this place as quickly as possible with kids who have been sexually abused. All of our donors believe we have lots of kids under our roof when the fact is we have only two. We have got to find more abused kids.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Bobby, now getting interested.

“We are going to employ some sleuths,” said Louie.

“This area is full of resorts that attract foreign men from all 232

over the world. They don’t come with wives or girlfriends.

Why not?”

“I suppose because there is plenty of cheap available sex here,” said Bobby.

“Exactly,” said Louie. “This place is full of no hopers who cannot get a screw in their own country, but can get one here and with a beautiful looking girl or boy come to that.”

“But screwing a bar girl is not child abuse,” said Bobby.

“We would be guilty as well if it was.”

“I know,” said Louie. “But this place also attracts pedophiles. Guys who like young girls or boys. My guess would be they number in the hundreds every year.”

“Then why are the authorities doing nothing about it?” asked Bobby.

“Because they don’t care,” said Louie. “The pervert still spends money, provides jobs and often is good for extortion, so why would they stop it?”

“To protect their own children,” said Bobby.

“Hey,” said Louie. “Get in the real world. Look at Annalyne. She is just one of twelve children. These people don’t have all of those children because they want them.

They have them because they screw so much and never take any precautions. Do you think they really care about them, let alone love them? Most of them have job recognizing them.”

“You have got a point there,” agreed Bobby.

“So,” continued Louie. “We know for a fact that there are quite a number of pedophiles right on our doorstep. All we have got to do is catch them, and the sleuths will give us all the information we want. You see, it has always been here, it is just that nobody was watching. Well, that is going to change.”

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“I’m with you so far,” said Bobby. “What then.”

“Well,” continued Louie. “Every time we catch one, we do it with the maximum publicity. We get the press to be there if we can. We video it all if they are not. We turn you into a hero. A champion of the children. We make you a saint and watch the money roll in.”

“It seems a bit cold-hearted,” said Bobby.

“Maybe,” said Louie. “But let’s face facts. We are, or were, both useless bums. We couldn’t even get a job. Now, we not only are making money, soon to be big money, but we’re respected. Do you want to throw all of that away?”

“No,” said Bobby. “Let’s do it. Here’s to pedophilia. Long may it continue.”

Louie laughed. “That’s my boy,” he said, leaning across to touch glasses.

Louie spent the rest of the evening painting a picture of where they were headed. Fill this place, claim they needed bigger premises, raise donations and build a seafront home, go on world lecture tours and raise even more money, and yet all the time, doing some good. It was perfect. A genuine tax-free business that could only get bigger and bigger.

Bobby went to bed and dreamed he and Pinky were sailing on a yacht in the Mediterranean.

32

A Huge New Case They enjoyed their date with the two girls. Mrs. Cruz, who thoroughly approved of both relationships, had prepared a picnic basket, into which Louie had slipped some wine and glasses, and to Jaimie’s disgust, Bobby drove the car himself to a place Pinky knew of at the base of the mountains. It was a very quiet spot alongside a small river, which was fast running, but shallow. They had horsed around a bit, gone for individual walks to be alone, ate 234

and drank and then napped in the shade of a tree. It was all innocent, and perhaps it was because of this that Bobby felt he was probably falling in love. He wasn’t sure because he had never felt the need to love any girl before, just make love, not be in love. Perhaps it was the gentle refusal of Pinky to allow him to make love to her that was bringing out the other emotion. He was definitely sexually frustrated, experiencing a painful erection just by kissing her. Progress was being made, however, because that afternoon she did allow him a peek at her beautifully-shaped breasts with their small, dark auroras. He had gently kissed each then lowered his hand to touch her, but that had been gently pushed away as she mouthed rather than said no.

Louie was being slightly more aggressive, but without success. Mia tended to laugh, call him malibuk, which meant always horny, and push him off. He kept suggesting that once they were up and running that she leave the priest and take a live-in job at the home. “Only if there is a bolt on the inside of the bedroom door,” she laughed.

They returned to the home prior to going out to dinner, and Pinky insisted with talking to Annalyne. “She will need to talk about it to someone,” she said. “She mustn’t keep her confusion inside of her, it could ruin her future.”

“You’re not qualified yet,” Bobby reminded her.

“I know,” she said defensively. “But how many books have you read on the problem?”

“Well,” confessed Bobby. “None, actually.”

“I am reading everything I can get,” she said. “So I am confident that I will only help, not harm.”

Later, just before they left to go to the dining room of a resort, she brought Annalyne onto the verandah to allow her to say goodnight to them all. Annalyne was holding the arm of Pinky with both hands and looking adoringly at 235

her face. Their talk had obviously made them become firm friends. Once she had been shooed away, Pinky sat down.

“She’s such a sweet child,” said Pinky. “It is terrible at what might have happened to her if the guard had not reported it.”

“I am seeing him next Monday,” said Bobby. “I need him to clarify some of his affidavit.”

After breakfast the following morning, Louie set off with Jaimie to purchase a scanner from the computer shop.

He returned after an hour and while setting up proceeded to bore Bobby by telling him the technical specifications.

“But will it work?” asked Bobby.

Once Louie had loaded the accompanying software, they tried it. It was great. “Now,” said Louie. “I’ve also bought an Adobe Photoshop package and I want to load that.”

“What will that do?” asked Bobby.

“Using this we will be able to blow up the photographs, select and print any relevant part of it.” explained Louie.

“You said that the photographs Pete is bringing indicate that they were taken inside hotel or resort rooms?”

“Yes,” said Bobby.

“Well,” said Louie. “I can blow up the background and any other object in view, cut them out and print them. It will help our boys locate the hotel and from there, maybe the girl in the photographs.”

“Hey,” said Bobby. “That’s great.”

Peter arrived at four-thirty. They all went into the study. It was the first time either Louie or Jun had seen the photographs and even Louie was shocked. “This is one sick bastard,” he said, as he began the long scanning process. Jun insisted that he give each picture an index number so that location would be easier.

“I’ll give the trace job to Jon-Jon,” said Jun. “He’s the 236

one who found Maggie’s neighbors. He’s pretty smart.”

Once they had finished the task, Peter re-packed his file and they all went onto the verandah where the promised beers were supplied. By ten that night, when Peter left, they had almost become brothers, with Peter pledging them every assistance he could give them.

Louie had staggered from the table. He had consumed his fair share of both beer and bourbon. Peter had preferred Johnnie Walker Black Label, and the little left in the newlyopened bottle indicated that he too had enjoyed himself.

“I am going to bed,” announced Louie. “I will work on the photographs tomorrow.”

The following morning, nursing a hangover, he announced, “I think we should go to Father Puigi’s confession today and to mass tomorrow.”

“Have you gone crazy?” said a startled Bobby. “Support that old sod. Never!”

“Use your head,” said Louie. “Let me do the planning, okay?”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “I agree, but what good will going to confession and mass do?”

“For one thing, we owe him,” said Louie.

“Owe him for what?” asked Bobby. “He tried to run us out of town.”

“Yes,” agreed Louie. “But if he hadn’t done that, we would have been so busy with our crusade that we would never have got into this business.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “I will give you that, but I still don’t see what good it will do to go back to him.”

“Because it will not do any harm, that is why,” exclaimed Louie. “If we show we look up to him he will save face.

That means he will not be plotting to ruin us and we can concentrate on making this work.”

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“Does he know we are making money?” asked Bobby.

“According to Mia, he does,” admitted Louie. “But he knows that his own sources are not affected. He is jealous and wishes he had thought about it, but he accepts it.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “If you think it is the right thing, then I will go along.”

“If you wear your dog-collar,” said Louie. “It will remind the towns people that this is still a religious organization.”

“You crafty bastard,” grinned Bobby. “Your brain never stops working, does it?”

“Well,” said Louie, with an innocent look upon his face.

“There are still plenty here who can still afford to donate a little.”

By lunchtime, in spite of his hangover, Louie presented Bobby with two sets of pictures he had created from those on file. There were the police photographs of the German, both full front and side on. Louie had selected a number of the victims but showed their faces only, not the act in which they were caught by the camera. Clipped to these faces were blown-up details of backgrounds. A picture on a wall-papered background. A wooden carving. A dressing table with various items on its surface.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s a long shot, but I think we can assume that one or more of these will be in Angeles City or Olongapo.”

“This is great,” enthused Bobby. “When do our sleuths start work?”

“We have four starting Monday,” answered Louie. “Two will work away, on this case, while the other two will be observing the local resorts.”

That afternoon they went to confession. They knew Father Puigi had recognized their voices, but because they had previously confessed their Angeles romp, their 238

confessions were a bit bland. Louie had some fun by confessing that he wanted to have sex with his girlfriend, and Father Puigi, knowing who this was referring to let slip, ‘I can understand that,’ before instructing Louie to put it firmly in the back of his mind.

The following morning they entered church and walked to the front. Passing down the aisle, they noticed the judge was also present. Father Puigi noticed them with slightly raised eyebrows and when the day’s lesson was being read, he beckoned one of the alter boys and whispered something to him. The boy came down the steps and over to Brother Bobby. “Please, sir,” he whispered. “Father requests you join him in the manse. Please leave by the side door and he will join you later.”

Bobby whispered the message to Louie who said, “I wonder what the cunning old bastard wants?”

What surprised them was the alter boy did not immediately return to his post but went up the aisle. It took a great deal of effort to not turn to see what he was up too, and he soon passed them on his way back to the alter.

At the manse, they rang the bell. This time, Mia had not been expecting them. Her look of surprise turned quickly into delight as she almost pulled them inside, closed the door, and then threw her arms around Louie’s neck and passionately kissed him.

“Hey, kid,” said Louie. “Get the wine out or the father will wonder what we have been up to.”

“The wine is already waiting, but I will fetch more glasses. Go on through,” she said. As she turned, Louie tapped her on her rump and she jumped, laughing. “Louie,” she said. “Stop that. You will be embarrassing Bobby.”

She brought the glasses, poured them each some wine and then took Louie by the hand into the darkness of the 239

study. The front door was heard opening, so both quickly emerged, Louie quickly sitting while Mia turned through the door leading to the kitchen. They heard the father approaching talking to someone. He came through the door followed by the judge. “Mia,” he shouted. “Another bottle and an extra glass.”

Both Bobby and Louie had stood up upon the entry of the father and his guest. “Brother Roberto. Mr. Louie,” boomed the beaming priest. “Welcome again to my humble abode. This is Judge Ordonez. I believe you know him even though you have never met.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” said Bobby, shaking the Judge’s hand. Louie did likewise.

Mia had returned with the glass and another opened bottle of wine. “Now everybody,” said the priest. “Sit and enjoy some wine. I now know how the father of the prodigal son felt. My son Roberto has returned to the fold” Bobby was feeling a bit uncomfortable having the judge present. He hadn’t expected that at all. “Judge Ordonez,” he began. “I am very pleased to meet you, but as you know I am the one who has signed the complaint on behalf of a child who is before your court. Is my meeting you ethical or even legal?”

The judge and the father both laughed. “Rest assured,” said the judge. “There is nothing wrong with it. This is the Philippines. I get to know many litigants.”

Bobby smiled. “In that case,” he said. “I am doubly glad to meet you.”

“To tell you the truth,” said the judge. “I am enjoying your case. It makes a change from the daily line of dynamite fishermen, bag and telephone snatchers and other such mundane matters. I believe you are also to lead another titillating case of a suspected pedophile. I am looking 240

forward to that.”

“That will be an easy one, Judge,” said Louie. “Although we are investigating it further because we believe that he may have committed even more serious offenses in other parts of the country.”

“Really,” said the judge. “Then I hope that you will request for all cases to be consolidated and be heard in my court.”

“Can this be done?” asked Bobby.

“Yes. Of course,” said the judge. “In fact, once you have had a court issue the warrant of arrest, let me know which court it comes under. I know most of the judges in the regional trial courts and a few telephone calls should ensure any application your lawyer makes is successful.”

“Well,” said Bobby. “For that we will thank you.”

“And think of the publicity you will get,” said the priest, refilling their glasses. “Such cases will bring the Manila press here.”

“I hope so,” said Louie, then quickly added. “The more we can expose this evil the sooner we can get rid of it.”

The father smiled at him. “And the more people will support your noble cause.”

Louie said no more, just smiled back at him.

“You have appointed a good lawyer,” observed the judge. “Where does he come from? It is not around here for sure. Our local lawyers are far too lazy to become that efficient.”

“He practices in Angeles City,” said Bobby. “He was recommended to us.”

“A smart move,” said the judge. “Will he be prosecuting the other case?”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “We have already appointed him.”

“Good,” said the judge. “It is rare for me to hear a case 241

where a private prosecutor has been appointed. Most from around her could not afford it. Young Peter does his best, but he is overloaded.”

“Brother,” said the priest. “Once the press starts to arrive, and you have more children in your home, you will not object, I hope, to me conducting mass there for the victims?”

“Not at all, father,” answered Bobby.

“You will look good in the newspaper,” butted in Louie.

“And it is always good for donations.”

“You are getting the picture, Mr. Louie,” smile the priest.

“I feel we can work well together,” said the judge.

“Really, judge?” asked Bobby. “How?” “Well,” said the judge, nervously sipping his wine. “The father here informs me that you intend to give all cases brought before myself a great deal of publicity.”

Louie had already picked up the business-side of what really was going on and he motioned with his eyes to Bobby to let him handle it.

“As I said before, judge,” he said. “The media is as much a weapon against these snakes as is your court. The message will go out loud and clear. If you are a foreign pedophile, do not come to the Philippines and seduce our kids. We will get you, and, with your help of course, jail you.”

“So,” said the judge. “I could assist by giving out harsh sentences? Providing they are guilty of course.” He added hastily.

“You sure can, judge,” said Louie. “And the quicker the trial, the quicker the verdict and the more publicity we can get.”

“I understand that you need publicity to survive,” said the judge. “But it may surprise you that we judges need publicity as well if we re to advance our careers.”

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“Really?” asked Louie.

“Oh, yes indeed,” said the judge, holding his glass towards the smiling priest for a refill. “San Fernando is a very peasant place to live, but for judicial advancement, it is a backwater. With more publicity, I could be selected for a position in the Manila courts, the only place to be if one wants to be considered as a candidate for an appointment to the Court of Appeals or even the Supreme Court.”

“We could guarantee you that,” said Louie, with confidence. ”The publicity I mean, not the appointment.”

“Well,” said the judge. “I could hand down maximum sentences and make statements against the evils of pedophilia in my written decision. Could you get those statements into the media?”

“Absolutely,” said Louie.

“Good old American know-how,” laughed Father Puigi.

“Helped by little brown envelopes,” added Louie, smiling.

“Then,” said the judge. “I think we can work together very well. I really must go now.” He stood up, the father called for Mia to show him out. They sat themselves down again to quickly finish their wine.

“There,” said the priest, as he showed them out. “Now you owe me one. I shall expect you to be quite generous in certain future appeals.”

“I think we have your message, father,” said Louie.

“You are a bright boy, Louie,” said the beaming priest.

“Are you sure that you’re not Italian?” He laughed, and just before closing the front door behind them said, “And Mr. Louie. You may call for Mia at seven on Mondays. She must be back by ten-thirty. And Louise.” There was a pause. “Do not return her pregnant.”

“Some hope,” said Louie and laughed. On the way to 243

the car he said. “Well. What did you think about that?”

“I’m gob smacked,” answered Bobby.

“I wouldn’t tell Attorney Lopez that he has large odds to win every case,” said Louie. “He may think that is unethical.

But to allow me to take Mia out one evening a week is a bonus.” He laughed. “I’m beginning to like the old coot.”

33

Pedophile Fishing Promptly, at eight o’clock on the Monday morning, the four young men selected to be their investigators arrived at the home. Jun talked them in the study while Bobby and Louie finished their breakfast, and then brought them into the dining room and sat them at the table for the briefing.

Bobby and Louie carried their coffee and joined them.

Jun had taken the head of the table. He introduced each of them together with their qualifications. All had obtained college degrees, but had been unable to find suitable employment. Fortunately for Bobby and Louie, they all spoke English very well. Jun first explained their duties and that all reports were to be in English. He then detailed the clues they were to look for in tracking down foreign pedophiles. Then he selected the two who were to travel that day to look for further evidence against the German named Bockman. They were given the sets of photographs and Louie explained the significance of each one. He told them to first show the picture of Bockman and check if he had stayed at the hotel. If they found a hotel, inquire as the where a pedophile may find his victims. This would not be difficult as many of the local Filipinos knew what was going on and would be anxious to share that knowledge. Then they were to discreetly show the girls photographs and see if they could locate them, but not approach them. To get their name and address and preferably school, then report 244

in with the information. The two were then given money and told to return to their homes and pack then catch the first bus. One would get off at Dau and work in Angeles City while the other would change buses at San Fernando, Pampanga and travel from there to Olongapo.

Once they had departed Jun produced from under the table two bundles of the locally-made bead necklaces and pushed one bundle to each. “Your cover will be as beach vendors of these,” he explained. “Try to sell them to the tourists by all means,” he said. “Work both the beach and the road entrances. Look for men talking with young girls or boys. If you see one take a child into the resort, you will contact here immediately using a mobile phone I will issue you. Our number, plus that of my own has already been entered and coded for predial with 1 and 2. You can therefore easily dial with the handset out of view in your pocket while walking to a place you are not observed or overheard. You will then be contacted for the information.

Please return home and bring back the appropriate clothing.

You will change here both morning and evening.”

The two left with happy looks upon their faces. “We will need to buy a good video camera,” said Jun. “One with a built in light for when we go raiding.”

“Can we afford it?” asked Bobby.

Louie laughed. “Our bank account is looking very healthy at the moment and we still receive a trickle of donations daily.”

“Can you fix it Louie?” asked Bobby.

“I’ll go into town this morning,” said Louie.

“No,” said Jun. “I will go myself because you may be needed,” said Jun. “What for?” asked Louie.

“We may get lucky today,” answered Jun. “If one 245

of the boys spot a pedophile, you will have to dress like a tourist, go and get the details and then lounge around the resort. They are local Filipinos and cannot provide surveillance inside the resort, whereas nobody will notice you.”

“Hey,” said Louie. “I’ve always wanted to play to being a detective.”

“Well,” smiled Bobby. “It appears that now is your chance.”

Ms. Arroyo who accompanied a young girl of ten years of age and who had been deemed by the court as in need of care and protection visited them later that day.

Once she had been handed over to Mrs. Cruz, Ms. Arroyo informed them that the girl had been sexually abused by her own father, who was now in custody. He was a Filipino tricycle driver.

Once she had departed they held a conference. “Do we get Attorney Lopez on this one?” asked Bobby.

“No,” said Jun. “We leave this one alone, just care for the girl.”

“Hey,” said Louie. “There must be some mileage in this?”

“Only on your website,” said Jun. “Don’t use it, except for numbers, in your newsletter.”

“Why not?” asked Louie.

“Look at it this way,” said Jun. “At the moment we’re receiving donations from overseas, but most of the money we get is from Filipinos.”

“So,” continued Jun. “The Filipinos love you because here is a foreigner, albeit a Fil-Am, but still a foreigner, Bobby here, going after pedophiles that are hurting Filipino children. They give money to stop that.”

“So why will not give money for us to stop Filipino 246

pedophiles?” asked Louie.

“Because the Filipino would prefer to believe that their fellow Filipinos would not do such a thing. We believe we are the most family-orientated people in the world. If you shatter that myth, they will never forgive you and the donations will dry up.”

“Makes sense,” said Louie. “You had better let Pete know and also the judge.”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “I will do that. So it’s hands off for us?”

They agreed.

The Wednesday saw them all back in court on Maggie’s case. This time, Bobby was called to the witness stand. Attorney Lopez quickly led him through the events of that day, then he handed the witness over for crossexamination.

Attorney Benez stood, and paused while he looked at the notes on his yellow pad. Suddenly he looked up at Bobby.

“Brother Roberto,” he commenced. “You are not, nor ever have been an ordained priest of the Catholic Church, have you?”

“No,” answered Bobby, sticking to the advice of Lopez to answer as briefly as possible.

“And yet, is it not true that you refer to yourself as father?” asked Benez.

“That is not true,” answered Bobby.

“But other people refer to you as father, do they not?” asked Benez.

“Sometimes,” answered Bobby.

“Do you not correct them when they do so?” asked Benez.

“Yes,” answered Bobby, to the obvious surprise of 247

both Louie and Lopez.

“Are you telling this court that if I called you father then you would immediately correct my missimpression,” asked Benez in a loud, triumphant voice.

“No,” said Bobby, unperturbed.

“You honor,” protested Benez. “The witness is trying to confuse this court. First he says he corrects the impressions of others by immediately telling them he is not an ordained priest entitled to be called father, and then he says he doesn’t do this. Which is it?”

“The witness will answer,” said the judge.

“Will your honor please have read out the first question?’ asked Bobby.

“Court stenographer,” ordered the judge, also looking puzzled. “Read out the first question.”

“The question asked by the lawyer for the defense was, Do you not correct them when they do so?” she stated.

“And my answer, please?” asked Bobby.

The stenographer looked at the judge, who nodded his head.

“The question was, yes,” she stated.

“The reason your honor for the answer was that Attorney Benez asked his question in the negative. He said ‘do you NOT correct them. If I do correct them, then the answer should be ‘no, I do not NOT correct them. If I do not correct them then the answer is ‘yes’ he is correct, I do not correct them,” said Bobby. “I was afraid that you might be confused with my answer.”

“Yes, Mr. Witness,” said the judge. “You have every right to believe that I would get confused and I do see your point. He leaned towards Attorney Benez. “Attorney Benez,” he stated gravely. “Will you please frame all of your questions to witnesses in the positive tense in my court.”

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“Yes, your honor,” said Benez, bowing his head.

Bobby noticed that he was now blushing. “One for the witness,” he thought.

“Now, Brother Roberto,” he continued. “You admit to not correcting the missperception that you are a real priest? Do you not -. Let me rephrase the question. Do you think that by not doing this you are being dishonest?”

“Not at all,” answered Bobby. “Everybody is aware that I do not perform any of the sacraments but they bestow me the honory title of father in the same sense of that of a shepherd.”

“Objection,” shouted Lopez, standing.

“On what grounds?” asked the judge.

“Once again, my learned friend is forgetting that in cross-examination he is restricted to ask only questions related to my direct and the answers given thereto. His line at the moment lacks relevance, you honor,” answered Lopez.

“I have been wondering about that myself,” said the judge. “Can you please explain where this line of questioning is leading, Attorney Benez?”

“Certainly, your honor,” said Benez. “Brother Roberto is a vital witness for the prosecution. I wish to establish his honesty and integrity as a person.”

“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “The witness has an occupation as a missionary that must be respected.

Continue your cross, but stick to the subject at hand.”

Benez was confused. This was the first time any judge had refused him the right to attack the credibility of a witness.

“Yes, your honor,” he said, not hiding the sulkiness from his voice. “Now, Mr. Witness,” he continued. “You stated that you saw the accused with his hand touching the private part of the alleged victim. Was she wearing 249

underwear?”

The question startled Bobby. “I would correct you,” said Bobby. “I do not believe I stated that I saw the hand of the accused touching the private part. I stated that I saw the accused with his hand under the skirt of the victim. If I couldn’t see his hand, then I surely could not testify as to what the girl wore under her dress.”

“So,” continued Benez. “You cannot state for certain that my client was sexually assaulting the alleged victim.”

“I did not see the action of his hand, that is true,” answered Bobby. “I couldn’t see the hand at all because it was totally hidden by the skirt, which to me infers very strongly what this disgusting pervert was doing.”

“Objection,” shouted Benez. “The witness is assuming my client is guilty. I wish that his answer be struck from the record.

Objection over-ruled,” said the judge quickly. “If the witness is of the opinion that the actions of the accused were similar to those of a disgusting pervert, then he is entitled to his interpretation.”

“Would you agree,” continued a flustered and redfaced Benez. “That what you saw in an instant may not necessarily have been a sexual assault, but rather the actions of a man attempting to calm a distressed child?”

“If this is your idea of how to calm a distressed child, attorney,” said Bobby. “Then I feel sorry for any children that come near you.”

“No further questions,” said the defeated lawyer.

Sitting.

“Just one on redirect, your honor,” said Lopez.

“Proceed,” said the judge.

“Brother Roberto,” asked Lopex. “Was what you witnessed on that day a man sexually assaulting a young 250

girl?”

“Most definitely,” answered Bobby.

“No more questions,” said Lopez.

“The witness is dismissed,” said the judge.

Louie was the next to be put on the witness stand.

His testimony fully confirmed that of Bobby’s and he only suffered one question on cross-examination.

“Mr. Witness,” asked Benez. “Why did you feel it necessary to assault the accused?”

Louie had been well briefed by Lopez. “Sir,” he answered. “We were citizens witnessing a crime and so used our rights to make a citizen’s arrest. The code on this states that even citizens are entitled to use reasonable force to restrain the criminal. The accused was violent and attempting to escape. I hit him once in the stomach to dissuade him. I would consider this as reasonable force as deemed by law.”

The court was then adjourned for the day after Lopez had stated that the prosecution was resting its case.

The next session would see what defense they had.

34

Mission Successful When they returned to the home, more good news awaited them. Jon-Jon, the investigator who had been sent to Angeles City had been successful and was travelling back to San Fernando. He said he should be there by six.

“I’ll send the van to the bus station,” said Jun. “That will make it easier for him.”

They all sat on the verandah enjoying a cold beer, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Jon-Jon. When he was shown in, he had a smile of triumph on his face. He accepted the offered beer and joined them at the table. From a briefcase he extracted a folder.

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“It was an easy job, boss,” he said to Jun. “He arrived in Angeles five weeks ago. He stayed first at Lord’s Hotel in which,” he opened his folder and pulled out one batch of pictures, “the event with that girl took place. The manger was very helpful. He had suspected him as a pedophile when saw a young girl walking along the corridor with him from his room. He said he asked him to leave He took me to the room and it was definitely the one. He told me that the wall picture is not used in any other room.”

“What about the girl?” asked Jun. “I traced her. Her name is Tracy Orbos and she lives in a squatter area. This is the address of the site. They don’t have individual addresses, but I know the shanty. She lives with her mother and seven siblings. The father is in Angeles City Jail on charges of possession of shabu. She is twelve years old and she goes to the local state school.”

“Let me look at the reference on the back,” said Louie. He rose and said, “I’ll just check out what he was doing with this girl. Be back in a minute, don’t start without me.”

Bobby used the intermission to fetch more cold beers. A smiling Louie returned waving a print. “Bingo,” he shouted. “Look at this.” The girls face was clearly seen, although the German’s head was partly hidden as it was between her little open legs. She lay with both arms above her head staring at the ceiling.

“Right,” said Bobby. “But it is only one more case of lasciviousness. It will add perhaps another ten years, but will not nail him.”

“The next one, Jon-Jon,” said Jun. Jon-Jon went on to describe his next success. It had been made easier because the word had gotten around. He traced him to a cheap hotel called Modesta. It had once been 252

a short-time motel during the days of the Americans and was designed to allow guests to easily not be observed in their comings and goings. The Australian owners expressed surprise the man was a pedophile because they had only ever seen him eating breakfast. They remembered the room he had occupied, however, and the photographs of background matched perfectly. It had been a little harder to locate the girl, but assuming that she too lived in a squatter area, he had shown the photograph to other children, and had hit the jackpot. “She is known as Jacquie,” said Jon-Jon. “Nobody appears to know the family name because they have come from the province recently. She doesn’t attend any school, but I can locate her anyway.”

Jun again looked at the reference and went out to the computer. This time he returned laughing. “Jackpot,” he shouted. “A big jackpot.” He threw the print on the table and they all leaned forward to study it. The picture clearly showed both faces with the German grinning and the girl crying. He was sodomizing her. They all became silent.

Being able to put a name to the girl had somehow made it more horrifying.

“If we can get the girl to testify,” said Bobby. “He will get the death sentence for this.”

“That’s better than the asshole deserves,” said Louie.

“I would like five minutes with him first.”

“Well,” said Jun, looking sad. “We must plan our moves carefully.”

“All we need to do,” said Bobby. “Is to get both of these girls to give statements and then inform the local police.”

“Steady,” warned Jun. “It is not that easy. You are thinking that this is America. It is not. This is the Philippines.”

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“What is the difficulty?” asked Bobby. “We have conclusive evidence that he has committed sexual acts with children. The man is a pedophile.” “ I know that. You know that,” said Jun. “But the courts will not recognize that unless the girls make an official complaint and are prepared to testify. Our first task will be to get the girl’s statements and while they live with their mothers, this may not be easy.”

“Why ever not?” asked Bobby. “Their children have been abused. Surely they will want to abuser to be punished.”

“We do not yet know the circumstances,” said Jun. “Did the mothers know this man? Did he give them money so that they allowed their daughters to accompany him?”

“Are you saying that a mother would pimp her own daughter?” asked a genuinely shocked Louie.

“It is possible,” answered Jun. “They are both very poor. A five-hundred peso bill would tempt them to allow their daughter to go with a man.”

“At their age?” asked Louie. “Knowing that they he wanted them for sex?”

“She would know this, of course,” continued Jun. “But she would deny it to herself. He was a nice man who liked her daughter. He was just taking her out for the day.

He might buy her a dress, some ice-cream, but he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“But surely the child would tell her what happened after she came home?” asked Bobby.

“She might try,” said Jun. “But she would be accused of making it up and told to stop talking about it.”

“I’m amazed,” said Bobby.

“This is how pedophiles operate,” said Jun. “They are very smart.”

“So,” said Bobby. “What is our plan?”

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“The first thing we do is enlist the assistance of Ms. Arroyo,” said Jun. “We will fill her in on the situation and show her the photographs and ask her to accompany Jon-Jon to Angeles City. She will talk with the DSWD there, who I am sure will agree that both of these girls are in need of care and protection. They will apply for a court order and then Jon-Jon can show them where to pick up the two girls. Once they are in the local home, Ms. Arroyo will offer our services here, an offer that due to their own severe overcrowding I feel sure they will accept. Once we have them here, we can let Pinky work on them. She is very good with children.

She can persuade them to let us write down everything that happened.” Jun took a sip of beer before continuing. “Then, once we have the statements, you Bobby, together with Attorney Lopez, can lodge the two cases with the Angeles court and have Warrants of Arrest issued. The police cannot effect these as the accused is already in detention here, but they may try and we must fight that.”

“Why would they bother?” asked Bobby.

“Well,” continued Jun. “The police in Angeles are not all angels. They do not get paid much salary, but a number of them have become wealthy. Foreigners will always get into some form of trouble in a place like Angeles.”

Bobby and Louie exchanged knowing glances.

“Prosecuting them is hard work, “ continued Jun. “The foreigners usually have money, so, in exchange for money, they avoid being prosecuted. How much do you think it would be worth for our German friend to avoid the death sentence?”

“Every cent he has, I would think,” said Louie.

“Exactly,” said Jun. “They will know that and so they will try to claim that as the offense was committed before the one for which he is charged here, then they have precedent 255

and will attempt to get him transferred to their jurisdiction.

There, within a few weeks, he will probably disappear.”

“So,” said Bobby. “How do we prevent this?”

“You talk to our judge,” said Jun. “Inform him when you are going to apply to the court for his arrest, and at the same time request the case be heard in conjunction with the one here. Our judge will tell you in whose court it will be best to apply because he will forewarn the judge there and your request will be granted. We will then have everything totally under our control.”

“Great,” said Louie. “Now, publicity. Newspapers?”

“Certainly,” said Jun. “Can you prepare a press release?”

“Sure,” said Louie.

“I suggest though that we save the publicity for when the cases are put before the court here. We will show Bobby and Lopez going into the court with a sheaf of papers in his hand. We will video it as well with Bobby shaking his fist at the German when he arrives at the court.”

“Great,” said Louie. “Let me work on script and then we can all go through it.”

“I will get onto Bong in Olongapo and tell him to return,” said Jun, rising.

“He might uncover something yet,” said Bobby.

“No need,” said Jun. “We have more than enough and any more will just mean a longer trial. Let’s save on some legal fees at least.”

It had been a very successful day.

35

The Frenzy Of The Press Things seemed to move very fast after that day. By the following week, Ms. Arroyo had done all that had been asked of her and returned with both Jacquie and Tracy, who 256

were both accepted into the home. During the weekends, Pinky would spend at least two hours with each. “How soon will they be ready to make a formal statement?” Bobby had asked her.

“You cannot rush these things, Bobby darling,” Pinky had said. “The important thing is to get their trust, and this takes time.”

Meanwhile, their first German had given his testimony as the only witness for the defense. According to Herr Jeurgan, Maggie had stopped him and asked him for money. He had at first refused. She had then offered to masturbate him in exchange for money. He didn’t know that this was against the law and so had agreed. She had led him down the road and urged him to go onto the vacant lot. She then threatened to scream that he had tried to rape her unless he gave her money. He was so angry that he decided to frighten her by grabbing her private part and that was when the two other witnesses had intervened. He had tried to fight them because he thought that they were with the girl and it was an extortion attempt. He expressed his regrets and just wished to be allowed to return home. It was a good and plausible story.

Attorney Lopez gave Herr Jeugan a rough time during cross-examination. Part of his examination went: Does German law state a minimum age for girls to participate in sex?

A Yes, sir. Sixteen year of age.

Q. And to you, does the victim look as though she had reached such an age?

A. One cannot easily tell the age of Filipinos, sir.

Q. Kindly look at the complainant. Now. Can you honestly say that she looks as though she is sixteen?

A. Not really, sir.

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Q. Not really. Not at all is what you meant to say.

Now. Why, if you are aware that to have sexual relations in Germany with a girl of less than sixteen, did you assume that no such law exists in the Philippines?

A. I never gave it a thought, sir, one way or the other.

Q. For your information, we are not backward here but in fact our minimum age is 18. Now. You say that the complainant offered to masturbate you in exchange for money?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Did she use that word – masturbate?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Did you not clearly hear her question your own attorney when this was put to her as to the meaning of masturbate?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. So you are saying that she used a word of which she had no understanding of its meaning?

A. She was probably lying, sir.

Q. As you appear to be. Now, do you admit to pushing one or more of your fingers into the vaginal area of the girl against her will.

A. I don’t think I did, sir.

Q. Why? Is the medico-legal doctor lying about the physical evidence as well?

A. The girl could have scratched herself, sir, to make it look worse.

It was not long after this, that feigning disgust, Lopez sat down. Attorney Benez was no fool. He knew that the case was lost so did not call Maggie for rebuttal. The judge requested that both lawyers submit their individual memorandums pleading their case to him within ten days 258

and adjourned the case for decision.

Over the next few days, Louie was busy contacting the editors of all the major newspapers in Metro Manila and the producers of various television shows. He explained that the pedophile caught by the visiting missionary was set to have his decision it was odds-on that he would be found guilty. He had telephoned the judge and told him to put any comments in bold and to have at least twenty copies available directly after adjournment.

The big day started well. As planned, the press, including two television stations, were well in place when Bobby was driven up. He held Maggie’s hand as they went up the stairs of the court, waving away questions until after he knew the decision. The court was crowded when promptly at ten o’clock it was declared in session and the judge entered, carrying his twenty-page decision. After opening the session he handed his decision to be read by his clerk. Aware of the occasion, the clerk of the court had just returned from the beauty salon and appeared at least ten years younger than during the hearings. The prisoner, who had been standing, was permitted to be seated for the reading. His lawyer, Attorney Benez, sat beside him looking tense.

The reading only took twenty minutes. The document reviewed the evidence presented and then the comments of the judge regarding the evils to the nation’s children caused by foreign pedophiles and the judicial responsibility to stamp it out. It then adjudged the prisoner as guilty beyond reasonable doubt, condemning his own testimony as being beyond belief. It found no reason to not sentence the prisoner to 17 years jail. Jeurgan had slumped forward with head in hands at hearing that for almost the rest of his life, he would inhabit a Philippine jail. The clerk announced 259

that copies of the decision were available from her office causing the press to rush towards the door. “I think you should take a photograph of the judge,” said Louie, to two press photographers. “Will he let us,” they asked. “I’ll fix it,” said and pushed himself towards the lady clerk She lifted her head after he had whispered to her and beckoned the photographers over, and then led them into the waiting judge in his chamber.

Outside it was also bedlam. The previous evening they had together written exactly what Bobby would say before answering questions. Bobby had memorized it and delivered it perfectly. Pencils hurriedly noted his words regarding SACS and its aims to eliminate foreign pedophiles in the Philippines. He mentioned that they couldn’t have done their work without the financial assistance of a few generous donors and how he hoped that they would be pleased to see that their money had not been wasted. He was on the steps for nearly half-an-hour before leaving.

Upon reaching home, Louie immediately went to the study to revamp the website to include this triumph. When he was finished, he joined them and they opened a bottle of champagne that had been chilling in the freezer. “Here’s to SCACS,” proposed Jun. “Long may the donations pour in.”

That evening, they watched the news. Jun had brought his own television and recorder. Fortunately, the news programs were half-an-hour apart so they could watch and record both coverages. “Hey,” said Louie. “You look like a film star,” pointing out the screen when Bobby was making his statement and being interviewed. Bobby had been separately interviewed by each presenter. He came over as young, vibrant and confident. His intensity when discussing the plague of foreign pedophiles made it appear as though one would trip over them on the streets of San 260

Fernando and other places.

After they had finished, they watched the recordings.

“I’ll get that tape digitalized,” said Louie. “I can then put it on the web.”

They spent an anxious few days but were well rewarded when the cash started to flow again. An e-mail from Germany contained an invitation for an all-expenses paid trip to present a lecture on the work they were doing at SACS. It promised further lectures in three adjacent towns where similar groups were based. There were also invitations from some Rotary Clubs in Manila to speak at their lunches. The best though was a request from the locally-based reporter for a major London-based newspaper for an interview. “If we can get a good article in that one,” said Louie. “I will see if you can talk to some groups in England while you are in Europe. It will only mean a few days stop-over either on your way there or the way back.”

“What will I talk about?” asked Bobby.

“Don’t worry, pal,” said Louie. “We will work on your talks and what videos you will show. I think we should turn the chapel into a studio. If we set it up right, then when Pinky is talking to the girls, we can record it and cut some of what they say into a video. It will be fantastic and will break the oldies hearts. A lot of donations will be raised if we make it right.”

“That is a great idea,” said Jun. “We don’t use the chapel anyway.”

“I don’t know,” said Bobby, slowly. “I mean what Pinky talks with the girls about is confidential really. I don’t think that Pinky will go along with it.”

“She needn’t know,” said Louie. “I can fix it up to look like a room we have set aside for her talks with the kids. If the furniture is kept limited then I can hide the camera and 261

have it focused on the only spot they can sit.”

“I don’t like the idea of deceiving Pinky,” said Bobby.

“Our relationship is built on trust.”

“You won’t be deceiving her, but allowing her to act natural,” said Louie. “If she knew she was being filmed then she would be uptight, and that wouldn’t help the kids either.”

“Think of the material, though,” said Jun. “Okay,” gave in Bobby. “Just do what you have to, but don’t tell me about it.”

“That is the sign of a good Filipino,” laughed Jun. They had purchased all of the newspapers. Louie had carefully cut out the reports, which were surprisingly good.

From the more conservative headlines of the quality press, such as, “Missionary rewarded by 17 year sentence to German Pervert,” to the more audacious tabloids, “17 years for sticking his fingers into something he shouldn’t.”

The reports were scanned onto the computer. The parts that praised Bobby and SCACS were put onto the website and included in the newsletter along with the full statement he had made outside of the courtroom. Other copies were printed and framed, and then hung on the walls of the entry hall.

After much gentle handling by Pinky, both Jacquie and Tracy had agreed that they would sign a statement to which Bobby would then become the complainant. Attorney Lopez had come to the house and sat with them and Pinky in the study. Lopez was competent with a computer, so he slowly put down the accusations and stories of the girls in Pampangan, their local dialect. He then worked all afternoon translating those statements into English.

When all was ready, the two girls signed them in childish hands, the signatures were witnessed and they sent Jaimie to bring the local notary to the house for his sealing of the 262

documents. It was decided that Bobby would travel back to Angeles City with Lopez that day and stay in a hotel, not the Orchid or any one near it for obvious reasons, in order to accompany Lopez to the court the following day. The judge had told them the court and which judge to see, and immediately apply for the jurisdiction to be changed to his court in San Fernando. He told them the judge had already agreed, so there would be no problem. “How on earth did you fix that?” asked a suspicious Lopez. “It was he who suggested we either take Bockman to be tried on the case here to Angeles or vice versa. It seemed to us that as both of the girls now live in our home, it would be better for them if the trial were held here.”

“I see,” smiled Lopez, and left it at that.

Bobby arose early the next day, having dined by himself and only spent one hour at the hotel bar. He had not gone out at all. They first had to go to see the Public Prosecutor, whom Lopez knew very well. He explained the situation, presented the affidavits and showed the photographs. The prosecutor had no difficulty in preparing his submission to the court, recommending arrest and no bail. With this in hand, they went to the court and in chambers presented the prosecutor’s papers plus the affidavits and photographs.

They also presented a formal application for the case to be heard concurrently with other charges of similar nature brought before the court in San Fernando and the reasons for their desire. The judge smiled at them. “I shall do what my compare asks,” he said, making it clear he was not complying with their request because he agreed with it. The order was made out and typed while they waited, and Lopez suggested that Bobby stay one more night and then they would both return to San Fernando on the morrow and lodge the documents with the judge there. Bobby, thinking 263

of the possibility of the long, boring bus ride at that time of day, agreed. What tilted his decision was that Attorney Lopez offered to take him to dinner at a fine restaurant he knew. They spent a very pleasant evening in an excellent restaurant that was set far from the madding crowd, but served wonderful food and had a good selection of wines.

The following afternoon, they presented all the documents to the judge, who suggested that they arraign as soon as possible as the attorney of the accused, again Benez, was submitting motions that his client was being illegally held. Lopez stated that he would be ready within three days.

He only had to sort out the evidence to be submitted for record. The judge made a note of the date and time.

The following day, Attorney Lopez visited both hotels in Angeles City that had been used by Bockman and obtained affidavits of the managers.

The arraignment was interesting, and long. Before the proposed evidence could be entered and indexed Attorney Benez stated that it was the intention of his client to plead guilty to three charges of lasciviousness.

“I believe there is one charge of sexual abuse including actual penetration,” said the judge.

“You honor,” stated Benez. “If this charge is dropped my client will plead guilty to the lesser charges and so save the time of this court.”

“How considerate of him,” said the judge. “Mr. Lopez.

Are you agreeable to this? Will the complainant do a letter of desistance on the more serious charge?”

“I do not even have to consult my client in order to inform you that this would not be acceptable. The accused is charged with a serious heinous crime that carries the death penalty.”

“Quite,” said the judge.

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“Then, you honor,” said Benez. “My client is willing to plead guilty to that charge, providing your honor that you would agree to the lesser sentence of life imprisonment, as allowed by law.”

“Attorney Benez,” said the judge, sternly. “You do not instruct me as to what my sentence would be. That provision is meant for crimes other than those considered heinous. Even if your client pleads guilty, then I will still insist on hearing the evidence of the prosecution in order to determine the seriousness of the offenses. Now, do you still want your client to plead guilty?”

“No, your honor,” he turned and mouthed to Brocman, “Plead not guilty.” The trial was set to commence one month hence and bail was refused.

Later, at home, they discussed it. “If the judge had accepted it, the publicity value would have been wasted,” observed Louie.

The month’s delay though, meant that Bobby could make his trip. Meanwhile, Ms. Arroyo had added two more girls to the home, but one had been the subject of physical violence while the other had been found abandoned by her parents. Neither were of much use in fund raising, but it brought the numbers up to a point where they had to employ two girls to assist Mrs. Cruz.

They had discussed as the purpose to present for funds.

Jun had suggested that they put a holding deposit on a two hectare beachfront property that had been zoned for a resort. The economic downturn had lowered the asking price to just P20 million, a bargain. “How much is that in real money?” asked Louie. “Less than $370,000,” answered Louie.

“Christ,” said Louie. “You couldn’t buy a ranch house in the suburbs for that in LA.” 265

“It is not a lot of money to the Europeans,” said Jun. “Once we have it, we can first build our offices but still keep this house for the children and then later, we can build accommodation for the children.”

“With that amount of land we could even build a hotel as well,” said Louie.

“That would be possible,” said Jun. “We could accommodate visiting journalists there.”

In what was the studio, albeit most filming being done secretly, Louie had installed a pull-down screen and a video projector. A few days prior to Bobby’s departure, they assembled in the room in the evening with their glasses of wine. “Before I show this, I want to confess that it is not all of my own work. I have found a Swedish guy who lives here that used to be big in television. He has the equipment and skills for editing. I will admit though, that the script and the voice-over are mine. Now for the big show.” He turned out the lights and started the projector. The video opened with scenes from around the area. The beach. People frolicking in a resort swimming pool. A sunset. Banca’s, etc.. Louie’s voice was saying, “In the north of the Philippines is a beautiful place for holiday-makers. It is serene and peaceful on the surface, but below the surface lurks an evil. In fact an evil that is unforgivable –“ The shot moved to photographs of Jeurgan and then Brocman – “pedophiles.” The voice continued. “These evil men from other countries who come here just to satisfy their unnatural sexual urges and in doing so leave a trail of broken minds and bodies scattered in their wake. Because of this, one man has decided to fight this evil.

He is by birth a Filipino, but an American by nationality.

He is a missionary, Brother Roberto Reyes, who gave up his comfortable living in the United States to return and help rid his country of this evil.” The shots showed Bobby in 266

his official shirt and collar waving outside of court, striding through the town and talking to smiling people.

“When did you take these?” asked Bobby.

“Whenever you weren’t looking,” laughed Louie. “Their good though, aren’t they?”

They all watched the half-an-hour video in silence.

They were a bit shocked to see some of the photographs included with the girl’s faces blurred out and the actual act also unclear in focus, but very clear in the mind.

Pinky’s interviews were a smash, with only short sentences such as, “It hurt me a lot and I bled,” being included.

When it was finished, they all applauded. It was indeed a powerful movie. “Now,” said Louie. “You just show that, and answer questions. Carry the unadulterated photographs with you and pass some around, but don’t forget why you are there. Towards the end state firmly that it costs money to carry on this crusade and that their generosity will help.

Tell them that the home will be overcrowded by next year and that you have had the opportunity to purchase land where the children will be able to play safely on their own beach and heal. Let them ask how much is the land and they will be shocked at how little it is.”

It was with a new confidence that Bobby climbed into the van to go to Manila for the flight to Frankfurt.

Louie accompanied him saying he would let Jaimie return because he needed health treatment in Manila. His sperm count was too high because Mia had still to cooperate in that department.

36

The Money Flows In Bobby’s trip was a huge financial success. So much so that he had to extend it by a week. He had seven speaking engagements in Germany and nine in England where he 267

was interviewed on television. He had left a copy of the video with Thames Television who had purchased it for fifty thousand pounds. The amount of checks and money orders he had brought with him totaled over half-a-million dollars, enough to immediately purchase the land and start to build the offices and their own accommodation at least.

Father Puigi had sent an appeal for the Retired Priests Benevolent Fund and was extremely pleased with the P100,000 he received. So much so, he sent around two bottles of his own wine plus a selection of sausage and cheese.

“There is one vital thing we are missing,” said Louie, at one of their meetings.

“What is that?” asked Jun. “I have appointed the architect and plans are nearly ready. We will place the administration and accommodation building close to the beach. In that manner it will be easier to supervise the children.”

“Plus we get a nice view of the sea when we wake up in the morning,” said Bobby, smiling.

“And you get a proper communications office complete with our own printing machine, as well as a properly designed studio including editing equipment for video production.”

“I wish you two would listen,” said Louie. “No, what we re lacking is a vital piece of our business.”

“And that is?” asked Bobby.

“Pedophiles,” answered Louie. “We have only got old Brocman left but what have we to follow that? No cases and the funds will stop flowing.”

“He’s right,” said Jun. “Our guys at the resorts haven’t reported anything.”

“Are they doing their job,” asked Bobby, also now aware that after is triumphant trip he needed some fast results.

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He had already played the Brocman card and needed something new.

“I think that they are too busy eying the girls and not looking at the men,” said Louie.

“You might be right,” said Jun. “I will have them both come here in the morning and I will give them a piece of my mind. Either locate some or go.”

“What if there aren’t any?” asked a worried Bobby.

“What if we have already scared them off?”

“Don’t be stupid Bobby,” said Louie. “Pedophiles read porn not newspapers. Of course they are still here, probably arriving every day. We just have to find and expose them, that’s all.”

“I believe you,” said Bobby, tensely, “It is just that I came out in a cold sweat when I thought that we were going to run out of pedophiles. Our dreams would be ruined.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jun, patting his knee. “They are there and we will find them.”

Good as his word, the following morning the watchers were called back into the house. Both Bobby and Louie could hear Jun shouting at them and they left with heads down. It had worked, because the following afternoon, they received a telephone call from one of them. He reported that an elderly man had been on the beach where he had befriended five young boys. He had bought them all ice cream from the beach vendor and later had paid the guard the entrance fee for them. He was playing with them in the resort swimming pool and was under observation from the sea wall. The watcher said that he had tried to sell the man necklaces and found out that the man spoke with a posh British accent.

“You had better go over there, Louie,” said Jun. “This may be what we are after.”

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“Great,” said Louie. “I could do with a break. Sunning myself around a pool seems a great way to earn a living. I will go and change.”

Louie returned that evening with disappointing news.

“Yeah,” he said. “He was in the pool with the kids. They were all having a great time. When they eventually got out, he just escorted them to the entrance, not even holding any kids hand, and waved them goodbye. He then went to his room, but alone. I don’t think we have a live one there.”

“Wait,” said Bobby. He went to the study and returned with a book. “I am sure there is something in here that I have read,” he said, opening it and flicking through the pages.

“What is that?” asked Jun. “It is one of the books Attorney Lopez gave me,” said Bobby. “This one contains the Republic Act 7610, the one covering child sexual abuse. Yes, here it is, listen.” Bobby read out a section of the act that said it was an offense for any male to be alone with a child in such places as hotels, resorts and many other places, unless the child was accompanied by a relative. “See,” said Bobby triumphantly.

“He is breaking the law. He is a pedophile.”

“Oh come on, Bobby,” said Louie. “The guy is just being nice to them. Perhaps he is lonely, and anyway, that says child not children.”

“Yes, it does,” said Bobby. “So, all we have to do is catch him with one boy in the resort and he can be arrested.”

“It seems a bit harsh if he is not a pedophile though, doesn’t it?” asked Jun. “Look,” said Bobby. “You said we need to catch more pedophiles. This law is meant to catch them before they do any damage to children. This man is befriending children, so he obviously has some evil intentions. We are going to 270

stop him before he carries them out. Just catch him with one child, that’s all we have to do.”

“Hey,” said Louie. “We could work that angle. After all, we didn’t make the law and he is clearly breaking it. Our line could be we saved the boy. Good thinking Bobby.”

“I admire the way you always think about using everything to our advantage,” said Jun. “Alright. I will instruct both boys tomorrow to provide continuous observation and if he just has one child in the resort to immediately report so that we can take action.”

They had no report the following day as the man had entertained four children. The following afternoon though, they had the telephone call reporting that the man had only brought in one boy from the beach and they had just entered the swimming pool.

“Right,” said Louie. “Telephone the police station and tell your sergeant we want two policemen at the house now.

Bobbie, go and get your priest gear on. Jun, telephone your man back and tell him to call you as soon as the pair of them are drying off in the recliners. I’ll go and get my video camera.” They all dispersed at Louie’s instructions.

The policemen turned up within minutes in an old, battered police vehicle. “The sergeant asks who is going to pay for our gas?’ asked one. ”Here,” said Louie, giving him a P500 note. “That is for coming here, and there is another later for returning.”

“Great,” said the smiling policeman.

“Yeah,” said Louie. “But I will be telling the sergeant just how much I gave you.” The policeman’s face fell. “Now,” said Louie. “Here is what I want you to do.”

He explained how they were going to enter a resort and that they would see an old man with white hair in a recliner alongside of which would be a boy of about seven 271

years. That Louie would enter the resort first and stop just before the swimming pool area. When he signaled, Bobby would run through the gate and they would follow five paces back. When Bobby got to the pair, he would stand in front of them and accuse the old man, the policemen would then arrest the man committing a crime under RA7610 of which they were witnesses. He was to be given his rights, taken to his room, allowed to dress and then be taken to the police station and locked up. Of course, they had never heard of RA 7610 so Bobby read out the relevant section to them while they made some notes in their books. Just then, Jun’s telephone rang, he answered and nodded to the group.

“Okay,” said Bobby, running for the van. “Let’s go.”

In less than two minutes, they were all in position.

Louie waved, and filmed Bobby running through the gate closely followed by the two policemen. He ran past Louie, who, with the camera still rolling ran behind him and stood behind the old man’s lounger, getting a good frontal shot of Bobby as he stood like an avenging angel, pointed his finger at the astonished man and shouted, “You filthy pedophile.

Your game is ended. You are going to be arrested. Officers.

Do you duty.” He then stood back to allow the two policemen enter the shot and open the notebooks. “Are you this boy’s father?” asked one.

“No,” said the man, in a very English manner. “Joseph is a little friend of mine.”

“Are his parent’s here, sir?” asked the policeman.

“No,” answered the man.

“So,” continued the policeman. “You are not related to this boy in any way and no relative is here with you?”

“That is correct,” said the man. “But what is this all about?”

“We are arresting you, sir. You will be charged under RA 272

7610, uh,” he looked at his notebook and read. “Paragraph 10 Section C in that you have in a resort a young boy in your company and without any blood relatives being present. Both myself and SPO1 Argrave are witnesses to such crime being committed and so are able to make a warrantless arrest as allowed by law. You will accompany us to the station. You are not obliged –“ and he carried on with the rest of the statutory rights.

“You must be joking,” said the astonished man. “I have never heard anything so outrageous in my life.”

“You are a pedophile,” stated Bobby for the camera.

“A pedophile? Me?” asked the man. “I’ll have you know that I am a retired officer of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces. I have four grandchildren. I am certainly not a pedophile.”

“The law says you are,” said Bobby.

“For some reason children are attracted to me,” protested the man. “I get along splendidly with children.

They keep me young. I would never touch one hair of their heads, let alone the disgusting things you are inferring. I demand to be able to contact my embassy.”

“You will be able to do that from the station, sir,” said the policeman. “Would you now go with my colleague and put on your clothes. I suggest you pack a small bag as well.”

“Do you mean that I am to be imprisoned? Asked the man. “This is outrageous.”

“What’s going on here,” said a heavily Australianaccented voice. They turned and saw the resort manager standing there. He really was the owner, but as foreign ownership of this type of business was not allowed, all official documents indicated that it was owned by is Filipino wife. “What do you lot think you are doing?”

“We’re arresting this guest of yours, sir,” said the leading policeman.

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“What the bloody hell for?” asked the Australian.

“He had this boy in his company. He is a suspected pedophile.”

“What Colonel Fred here?” answered the Australian.

“Don’t make me laugh. He is no more a bloody pedophile than I am.”

“Then why has he little boys for company?” asked Bobby.

“Because kids like him, that’s all,” answered the manager.

“They flock around him because he buys them ice cream and soft drinks and pays for them to swim in my pool. I have never seen him so much as hold one’s hand. I know a pedo when I see one mate. You have to in this business. We don’t have any truck with them. Now, let the poor bugger go.”

“He is clearly breaking the law, and if you keep objecting you could be considered an accomplice,” said Bobby.

“Is it you behind this, father?” he asked angrily. “What?

Want to see yourself on television again do you? Just stick to getting those genuine pedos, but leave my genuine guests alone. You will ruin our business if you keep this up.”

“I’m not out to ruin your business, but being with a lone child in a resort is clearly against the law,” said Bobby.

“My mission in life is to protect children,” “And get lots of money from doing it,” said the manger.

“We all have heard just who bought Mendes lot up the beach, and paid cash too.”

“That is none of your business,” said Bobby. “You business is not to host pedophiles of which this is one.”

“Bullshit,” said the manager. “Anyway, where’s your warrant to allow you to come on my property?”

The policemen both looked at Bobby. “As the crime was seen being committed from outside of your property, the 274

police do not need a warrant to enter.”

“Bullshit,” said the manager. “Don’t worry, colonel. I will go and get my lawyer to meet you at the station.” He turned and walked away. A still protesting colonel was accompanied to his room, where he dressed and put shaving gear into a small bag. Both he and the boy were hustled into the police car, which then drove into San Fernando followed

by Bobby in the van. At the police station, Bobby signed the complaint form, the colonel was processed before being put into the cell.

“To tell you the truth, father,” said the sergeant. “I don’t like this one. He doesn’t seem like a pedophile to me. In fact he seems a decent man.

Bobby started to get angry. “I have shown you the law, sergeant,” he shouted. “Do you agree that he has broken the law?”

“Well,” answered the sergeant, a bit taken back by Bobby’s anger. “Technically, yes.”

“In that case, sergeant,” said Bobby. “I suggest you do your job of technically applying the law, not questioning it.”

“Yes, father,” said a chastened sergeant.

That night the conference was a bit melancholy. If they had been truthful to each other, they all felt that what they had done was wrong.

“Too late to do anything about it now,” said Bobby, expressing all of their thoughts. “We’ve dug the hole, so we have no choice but to fill it.”

“I’ve checked the video. Great stuff. The pedophile busting Brother on the rampage,” said Louie. “It should start the bucks rolling again.”

“As long as we don’t get exposed by the man’s character,” said Jun, soberly. “I don’t really think he had any bad intentions on the boys.”

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“Go on,” said Bobby. “Blame me. I know what you are thinking. The fact is he was breaking the law. Ignorance of the law is no defense.”

“For Christ’s sake,” said Louie. “Nobody is blaming you.

We all decided. Anyway, you are beginning to sound like a local goddamn lawyer.”

“Sorry,” said Bobby. “I feel exhausted by all of this. I think I will get an early night.”

It was Peter who found a solution to the mess. When Bobby went in to formalize the complaint, Peter had explained that he had interviewed the man who seemed a very nice old gentleman.

“But what can I do, Peter?” asked Bobby. “If I withdraw the complaint, he could return to England and claim that I had him arrested even though I knew he was innocent. We have a lot of support from England now.”

“Why not delay making the complaint but contact Immigration and request his deportation as an undesirable alien?” asked Peter. “In that way, if he does make a fuss you just ask the people to ask themselves as to why he was deported if he was innocent.”

“That would work,” said Bobby, brightening up. I will get Jun to make the telephone call when I get back. He will explain that prosecution is expensive of such a case and suggest deportation would be quicker and cheaper.”

When he explained it to the others, Louie was delighted.

“What is more,” he said. “I can use the video footage because he will not be able to complain. Great. All is not wasted.”

Within five days, the man was out of their hair. A letter arrived from him to Bobby that was upsetting. It read: Dear Brother Roberto, You appear to have been successful in not saving a child but destroying a man. I was enjoying my holiday in 276

the Philippines. It had taken my mind off the recent death of my wife. I was beginning to love the country and its people. Your action though has ensured that I am never allowed to return. You knew that I was innocent and was not a pedophile, but you used a little-known part of the law to make me a criminal. To rob a man of his possessions is bad, but to rob a man of a lifetimes reputation of integrity is despicable. I will have difficulty in traveling anywhere on my current passport as it now contains a shame that only we know is false.

Having served Her Majesty in many parts of the East I have become a believer in Karma, and Brother, yours is currently bad and will be addressed.

Should you visit England again, may I have the pleasure of horse-whipping you as your own father should have done years ago.

“Never mind, Bobby,” said Louie. “Forget it. These things happen” “We still need some more genuine pedophiles though,” Jun reminded them 37

A Pedophile Drought The next few weeks were hectic. The court case against Bockman had commenced in a flush of Louieinspired publicity. He knew that every session and revelation would not be covered by the professional journalists from Manila and so he would write up half-a-dozen different accounts and send them to the editors as a press release.

The only item that was consistent was “- in the case brought

by Brother Roberto Reyes of SACS, the home for sexually abused children.”

Ms. Arroyo had deposited two more girls with them, but they had little publicity value and so it was left to 277

the staff to attend to them.

Louie still had Thursday’s off to take Mia out, and also Monday evenings. Bobby was always pleased when Pinky returned at the weekends, but since she had learned of the colonel incident, she had been a little cooler. They still had not investigated, let alone caught, a pedophile.

The building of their new home though, had proceeded with great speed and in fact was virtually completed. It was magnificent. The first-floor office and both Bobby and Louie’s large bedrooms all opened onto a wide balcony that ran along the front facing the sea. There were four guest bedrooms, three offices, a small lecture room and a magnificent studio with excellent filming equipment.

The Swedish director, Jaan, had agreed to operate the camera when required and also do any editing. Louie was busy writing a video they would produce about the work of SACS and Bobby. On the pretense of giving Maggie a birthday party, they had invited a large number of barrio kids to attend the house and duly filmed them together in the garden to give the impression that the home was fullto-bursting. By splicing in some of the interviews plus the dramatic approach to the innocent colonel and an interview with Bobby, they managed to produce another video to be shown on overseas television stations. In spite of the facts of the situation, it gave the impression that pedophiles were roaming the streets of San Fernando. The local residents, of course, never discovered this misrepresentation of their area and the bad effect it was having on prospective tourists.

They moved into their new premises, leaving the children at the house. This gave them more room and Ms. Arroyo did her best to fill it. On site, they had began the construction of the children’s quarters, but this could only proceed in pace with contributions. They were appealing 278

for funds in various countries of the world, now showing the mansion and claiming this was the home and that it was overcrowded already. They appealed for funds for the annex.

“We really need a Japanese pedophile,” said Louie.

“It would dramatically increase donations from there. We are going to have to search outside of the area.”

“We should scan the newspapers every day,” suggested Jun. “If there is news of someone else having caught one, then by offering to pay for the private prosecutor we can muscle in on it and grab the publicity.”

“Let’s do that,” said Bobby.

Later. An excited Louie came from his office waving a piece of paper. ”Hey, guys,” he said. “Guess what? There is a crew from a German television station here in the Philippines making a show exposing pedophiles. They are in Manila, but want to visit us here the day after tomorrow and get us to show them where and how pedophiles operate.”

“Great,” said Bobby. “What do we show them?

Where do we take them?”

Louie’s face fell. “Hell,” he said. “You’re right. We have been looking ourselves with no success. Look,” he said brightening. “Why don’t you get onto George at the Bali Hai. You’ve always gotten on well with him. He has been here fifteen years and he regularly takes some of his guests out clubbing at night. If anyone knows, he will.”

“I’ll take a walk along the beach and see him,” said Bobby. “It’s not far.”

He found George on his usual stall at the bar. George would start drinking beer at ten in the morning, drink all day, sometime go out with his guests until three in the morning, but never appeared drunk. As Bobby approached him to take the empty adjacent stool, George looked up.

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“Gooday, father,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I saw you here. Have a beer?”

“Yes, George,” said Bobby. “Very kind of you.”

The beer was served ice cold. Bobby took a sip, appreciating it more because of his walk along the soft sand.

“Settled into your new joint then, have you?” asked George.

“Yes, thank you,” answered Bobby.

“More like a bloody palace then a kids home,” observed George.

“Well,” said Bobby. “That’s because of the design. It cost no more than if we had built a concrete blockhouse.”

“Is that right?” asked George. “You’ll have to give me the name who designed it then. I’m looking to upgrade my place soon.”

“Yes. No problem,” answered Bobby.

“I hope you are not here to suss out any of my guests,” said George. “I heard what happened to that old colonel.”

Bobby laughed, albeit it nervously. “An honest mistake, George,” he said. “I confessed to it as soon as I found out and had him released.”

“Yeah,” said George. “You did that alright. Right into the hands of those bastards from the Immigration. Innocent or not, they still kicked him out of the country.”

“I did do everything I could to stop it,” lied Bobby.

“I’m sure you did, father,” said George. “I’m sure you did.”

“You do agree with what we’re trying to do, George?

Don’t you?” Asked Bobby.

“What?” asked George. “Stop those bloody perverts from screwing kids? Of course I bloody do. I hate ’em. But we don’t get any staying here, father. I would personally 280

kick their asses until their balls came out of their mouth if they try to stay here.”

“Some pedophiles do come to this area, though?” asked Bobby.

“Sure,” answered George, calling for two more beers.

“They don’t stay for long though because as soon as any one of us spots them, they are told to get out and quick.”

“But those that do come here, George,” said Bobby.

“Must know where they can pick up underage children. Are there any clubs in town where the girls are young?”

“When you get as old as me, mate,” said George guffawing. “They are all bloody young. But no. There is no bar I know that deliberately employs girls who are below the age of eighteen. I’m not saying young girls are not there.

They lie through their back teeth. They go to the registry office and state that they have never had a birth certificate, and for a P200 fine they get one issued. It is easy for them to stick a few years on their real age. How would a bar owner know?”

“But are there bars where they do know?” persisted Bobby.

“Now father,” said George. “I am telling you the truth. As far as I am aware, there is no bar in this area that deliberately sells young girls or boys for sex, and I know all of them. I will tell you this though. If you go charging in any of them like you did at Ross’s place, if you do live, it will be to regret it. Some of those Filipino bars are owned by some very rough characters who will not hesitate to have you gunned down. Your collar won’t protect you. I am serious.”

“I wasn’t thinking of raiding them, George,” said a reddening Bobby. “I was just interested.”

“Then have another beer, and become uninterested.

What you are looking for just doesn’t exist. The risks are too 281

high and the sentences too long.”

It was a gloomy group that sat around the dinner table that night. “What the hell are we going to do with them?” asked Louie. “If they claim that we a not as active as we claim ourselves, our funding from Germany could dry up altogether.”

“Can we stop them coming?” asked Bobby.

“They are on the road at this minute,” answered Bobby. “I have to pick them up in an hour from the bus depot.”

“Put them up here,” said Jun. “What?” asked Bobby. “Let them see how we live and then how few children we take care of?”

“Leave that to me,” said Jun. “Take them bar hopping tonight. Point out that there is no way some of the girls on the stage can be of legal age. Bring them to the home before noon tomorrow. I will arrange for the barrio kids to be there in the garden playing. Most do not speak English or German, so will not be able to be questioned.

The main thing is to keep your heads. Be enthusiastic about our mission.”

“Jun’s right,” said Louie. “We’ll both meet them, bring their gear back here and then take them straight out on a reconnaissance mission.”

“How about if I am recognized in the bars?” asked Bobby.

“You are hosting a television film crew,” said Jun. “Perfectly legitimate.”

The television crew consisted of three, the director who also did any interviewing, the cameraman and a young grip man for sound. They all spoke very good English. On the way back to the mansion, the director, Kurtz, explained that they had a prime-time crime program in Germany, 282

and pedophilia was slated to be one subject. He admired the mansion and was pleased with the guest rooms offered them, especially as he would be charging his company for hotel accommodation.

They went out in the van, with Bobby driving and Louie, who had a better knowledge of the locations of bars, directing.

Being mid-week, none of the bars were particularly busy, which meant that their group was the center of attraction for the girls employed. Many did appear to be very young and were questioned by Kurtz. None were prepared though to go on camera and confess their real age. Bar owners immediately stopped any attempt at filming within the bar. The result was that Kurtz believed that pedophilia was rampant in the town, but said that he would just have to use it as background while relating his experiences.

One of the bars into which they had ventured was virtually dead. This time though, on the instructions of Kurtz, the cameraman used a buttonhole camera that he had brought with him. The lens was so small that it was unnoticeable in the collar of his multi-colored shirt. The recorder was in his top pocket with only a thin layer of cloth between the subject and the recording head. Louie took great interest in his examination of the equipment. “This is what we need,” he said to Bobby.

They thought it was going to be a useless exercise when they stepped into the bar called Yodell’s. There were only four male customers, all of whom were in their early sixties. The one girl acting as a waitress as well a guest relation’s officer (GRO) was ignored by them except when they called for another round of rum and Cokes, the cheapest drink in the bar. They were too intent on their card game.

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Bobby’s group pulled two tables together and ordered beer. One apple-cheeked man in the group, obviously the owner, looked up from the game smiling and shouted, “Velcome to Yodell’s” Kurtz asked him if he was Swiss, to which he answered he was. Kurtz then spoke German to him and the man gave a reply in the same language. The novelty of actually having some new customers appeared to be of more interest than continuing their card game and so they were invited to join the group. They all sat around drinking.

Kurtz bought a full round, including the men in the order.

The lone, but pretty waitress brought the order, smiling specifically at Kurtz when he signed her proffered chit.

“We were looking for girls,” said Kurtz, with a slight nod to the cameraman who then sneakily reached into his top pocket to switch on his equipment.

“Girls?” answered the smiling owner. “We only have one, and there are too many of you.” He laughed. “There are plenty of girls to be had in San Fernando. Plenty of bars.”

“We have been to some,” said Kurtz. “But the girls are quite old. I am looking for a young girl. Like really young. Are there any bars that have those?”

“Try Pablo’s” interrupted another of the card players, who had been silent up to that time. “It is owned by a Filipino and they say he is not fussy about what age the girls are.”

They had already been to Pablo’s and agreed that they appeared young, but not so young as to be classified as children. Kurtz bought another round to the delight of the four. Here was a man to keep here as long as possible.

“Say if I wanted a girl younger than those at Pablo’s,” continued Kurtz once the drinks had been delivered. “Could you have a selection for me here to see?”

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“No. No.’,” said the owner. “I would not be involved in such a thing. It is against the law and we have to be careful.”

“That’s one statement that will never see the light of day,” thought Louie.

“He would probably want first pick,” laughed one of the card players.

“But that will,” thought Louie.

“Just keep looking around,” said the owner.

“Sometimes they re around the market place at night. Girls from the squatter areas. Money. They will do anything for money.”

Okay,” said Kurtz. “We will.” He paid the bill and they all left. “Did you get it all?” he asked the cameraman, once they were outside.

“Sure,” answered the cameraman, reaching into his pocket to turn off the equipment.

“Good,” said Kurtz. “Edited, we will be able to use some of it.”

They went into another bar, which was also quite dead. It was getting later now and few stayed up in the provinces to welcome in the new day. “Of all the girls we have seen tonight,” observed Kurtz. “I fancy the one in the old coots bar. How much would be her bar fine?”

“No more than P100,” said Louie.

Kurtz took out a P500 bill and said to the cameraman, “Go back and bar fine her then bring her back here.”

He was back in ten minutes with a very pleased looking girl on his arm. “Not him my darling,” said Kurtz, smiling. “I am your husband for tonight. We divorce in the morning.”

The girl appeared even more pleased with this arrangement and sat alongside Kurtz, holding his hand.

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After two more drinks each, they decided to call it a night and returned to the mansion. Bobby was not entirely pleased that Kurtz had brought a girl with him and intended to sleep with her in his guest room. After all, he was Brother Roberto, and it seemed a bit of an insult. It was not made easier that the girl came out onto the balcony the next morning with just a towel around her and sat with him to have a coffee. He could almost see to the top of her legs and he had to move closer to the table in order not to show how it was affecting him.

Slowly, the rest of the house awoke and joined together on the balcony. Bobbie explained that before they left, he would show them the children to film, “All victims of pedophiles,” he added.

Kurtz was complaining that they had come a long way and were not returning with much. The girl sat beside him looking at the sea. She had showered. Her hair was still wet and she wore no make-up. “How old are you Stella?” he asked.

“Nearly nineteen,” she answered.

“To a German, when you do not wear make-up you could pass for fourteen,” he observed. Then to Louie, “Show me your studio.”

They both stood up and Kurtz followed Louie.

When they returned Kurtz said, “Magnificent. Everything we need.”

“For what?” asked Bobby. Kurtz winked at him.

“We are going to play a little joke on our friends in Germany,” he said. “I am going to interview Stella and she is going to cry and tell us how she is made by her parents to work in Yodell’s where the old man makes her go with foreigners for sex otherwise he beats her. And that she is only fourteen years of age. What a joke that would be. Will 286

you do it Stella?”

“No, I don’t want to,” she said. “It is not true. I am nearly nineteen. My employer sir Arnold is a kind man. He tries to stop me going on bar fines. My parents do not know what I do. They think I work in a shop.”

“Stella,” said a soothing Kurtz. “You are just going to be acting a part. It is just a joke between me and my friend in Germany.”

“I still do not want to do it,” said Stella.

Kurtz took out his wallet. He took one, then two and finally a third one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her.”

“Here,” he said. “This is proof of what I say. We never pay the people we interview, but actresses are paid for their work. I am paying you to do this” She looked at the money. For her it was an enormous sum. Reluctantly, she reached and took it.

“Good,” said Kurtz. “Now put on your dress but no make up and do not comb your hair. Leave it as it is, then come to the studio. Louie, you are the writer, let us go and knot out a rough script of her answers.”

Including rehearsals, which at one part, after stating that she was only fourteen, required Stella to break down sobbing, the whole film was competed in an hour, and Stella was sent on her way.

“She is a natural actress,” observed Kurt. “Even I believed her when she broke down crying. It will be magnificent.”

Before they left, the tape of the previous night and what they had filmed in the studio was copied for Louie’s later use. They then went to the house where children swarmed all over the place, gladly smiling and posing for the camera. To this background, Kurtz interviewed Bobby 287

who had donned his black shirt and half-collar. They were then driven to the bus depot for their return trip to Manila, but not before thanking Bobby and Louie profusely for their cooperation.

Louie had called for Jaan to work with him in the studio the following day. That evening, Louie, followed

by Jaan came into the lounge where Bobby and Jun were relaxing having an aperitif before dinner. Jaan had only came in to say his goodbyes. Louie took the videotape over to the television and inserted it. “Watch this, guys,” he said, switching it on. No title had been added as yet so it went straight into the main part. What Louie and Jaan had done with the filming of the past two days was amazing.

Louie had cut out some of the voice of Kurtz and inserted his own script. Seeming innocent remarks became selfincriminating when the question was changed. All of the card players appeared to be a syndicate selling young girls to pedophiles, and many shots were of Stella, smiling and serving drinks. Then came her interview, but using Louie’s voice and slightly different questions to Kurtz. This made her confession even more damning. It was a brilliant piece of misinformation.

“That is damning,” said Bobby, still shocked at what he had seen.

“I know old Arnold and I would never have thought he was into that,” said Jun, who had not been present in the bar.

“So,” said Louie. “From what you have seen, we would have a good case against him.”

“He would be locked behind bars,” agreed Jun. “And so he should be.”

“Then we go for him?” asked Louie, looking at Bobby.

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“Oh, come on,” said Bobby. “You have adulterated that so much. How can we go for him, and why should we?”

“For thousands of good reasons,” said Louie. “The money is drying up and fast. There have been very few donations in the past four weeks and our savings are going fast old buddy. We need a big boost right now or we are out of here.”

“It can’t be that bad,” said Bobby.

“It can and is,” agreed Jun. “The money from the Social Services only covers the children’s food, but we have to cover rental, electricity, wages, cleaning materials, everything. On top of that we have spent too much too soon on construction and equipment. Our bank balance is looking very sick at the moment.”

“Jesus,” said Bobby. “After all of our work?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Jun. “The answer though is here,” said Louie, removing the tape.

“But he is a nice old man,” protested Bobby.

“Well,” said Louie. “It’s him or us. Which do you choose?”

Bobby smiled. “I think that dirty old bastard should be in jail,” he said.

Jun had stood and fetched the bottle from the table and he refilled everyone’s glass. Raising his, he said, “Well.

Here’s to battle.”

“To battle,” they both replied before drinking.

38

False Accussations Both Bobby and Louie spent the next couple of days writing and rewriting their affidavits concerning their visit to Yodell’s bar. Now, according them both, the girl had taken them aside and had asked if she could see 289

them because she needed help. She had recognized him as being Brother Roberto Reyes. She had arrived at the home the following day and Roberto had interviewed her with it being recorded on video. The transcript was included. Once they were typed up, both Bobby and Louie went to see Peter, who was shocked at what he read. By the following day he had prepared a court application for first, the arrest of Arnold. Second for the business to be closed, and third for Stella to be in need of care and protection and handed to the DSWD. The judge issued the orders, and Bobby took them to the police sergeant and insisted on accompanying them to Yoedell’s Bar. Louie had gotten hold of Jaans who was ready with the camera. Bobby was wearing his missionary clothing. Once they were assembled outside of the bar, it was Bobby, with camera’s rolling who kicked open the door and rushed into what had been a peaceful scene inside.

With Jaans busily filming him, Bobby confronted Arnold shouting at this that he was a pimp to pedophiles, selling young girls just to make money. The police entered and read their warrants to a startled Arnold. The poor man looked as though he was about to have a heart attack. Stella, who had been standing opened mouth in front of the bar screamed.

“Take her with you,” ordered Bobby. “The social worker will collect her from the station.” Stella stared at him in disbelief as a policewoman took her arm to lead her out. “Why are you taking me?” she shouted. “Because you are too young to be working in a bar,” said the policewoman. “I’m nearly nineteen,” shouted Stella. “They all say that, dear,” said the policewoman, edging her through the door. All the activity was faithfully caught on videotape for history by the faithful Jaans.

Bobby and Louie returned to the mansion, showered and changed. They both suddenly felt dirty. The knock on 290

the door was expected and Ms. Arroyo was shown in. “I’ve got here a 14-year-old that did not want to come here,” she said. “But I have no other place to take her. She is babbling that you are both evil. I think that she is slightly deranged.

Can I leave her?”

“It will be okay,” said Bobby. “She is probably upset that we were there when she was taken in. If she is still upset then we will get the doctor to give her a sedative.”

“You two are liars,” said a spiteful-faced Stella from behind Ms. Arroyo.

“I’ll leave her with you then and fix up the papers in the morning,” said Ms. Arroyo.

“Thank you, and good evening, Ms. Arroyo,” said Louie. They heard her depart through the door.

“Now, Stella,” said Bobby. “Calm yourself. Sit down.

Can I get you a drink?”

“I want nothing from you except that you tell the truth,” she said. “You know old Arnold has never been involved with selling young girls and you know I shouldn’t be here because I am nearly nineteen. I have a birth certificate to prove it” “Birth certificates are two a penny, Stella,” said Louie. “Whereas a taped confession that you are fourteen, followed by you breaking down and crying is much more believable. So sit down.”

She moved into the room and sat in a chair. “What do you want from me?” she asked. “Free sex?”

“Sounds a great offer, Stella, but I could never go to bed with an under-aged girl” “You bastos,” she said, snarling. “You know I am old enough.”

“Fancy me that bad, do you?” laughed Louie.

“I will give you a good time if you let me go,” she 291

whimpered.

“Here’s the deal, Stella,” said Bobby. “We will let you disappear and in fact we will even give you the fare to Manila plus some pocket money, but there is something you have to do first.”

“What’s that,” she appeared interested.

“First, you sign a written statement that everything you have stated on the video is true,” said Bobby.

“But it’s not,” she protested. “You know it’s not. You told me what to say.”

“We know that,” interrupted Louie. “But nobody else has to know it’s not true.”

Poor Arnold,” she said. “He will go to jail, won’t he.”

“That is not your concern,” said Bobby. “He is nothing to you. He is just another foreigner making money here and paying you very little. Think of yourself. What have you got? Nothing. What could you have? A bus ticket and five hundred dollars in your pocket.”

“Five hundred dollars?” she asked, with amazement in her voice.

“Yes,” said Bobby. “Five hundred dollars.”

“Just for signing that what I said was true?” she asked.

“Plus one appearance in court,” he added.

“I don’t want to go to court,” she said.

“All you will have to do is make the same statement and then answer some questions,” said Bobby. “As soon as you leave court, your bus ticket and money will be handed to you.”

She appeared to be thinking about it. Well,” she said.

“Okay. But do I have to sleep in the house?”

“No,” said Bobby. “They are all so much younger than you. You can have a guest room here.”

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All was agreed, her statement was taken and submitted and she continued to live in the house, providing an often unwelcome distraction, especially when appearing just wrapped in a towel.

One day Louie admitted that on one Monday, after another sexually frustrating date with Mia, he had crept into her room and made love to her. The release was mutual though because from the excitement of having sex with compete strangers to living the life of a nun was not exactly pleasant for Stella. She welcomed the encounter and made Louie promise to repeat it the following week, one of the few promises he kept. When Bobby found out he was annoyed.

As he pointed out to Louie, Stella now had ammunition against them, especially as she could say that in spite of the truth, Louie was publicly claiming she was only fourteen, therefore he was also a pedophile. He was doubly annoyed as he realized that he was jealous and really wished he had been the first to visit her room. The truth was Stella was a very sexually attractive woman.

They were glad that they had instigated the case, however, as it drew wide publicity and gave fresh material for the website and newsletter. The donations again had started to roll in, topping up their depleted coffers. The number of children in SACS had risen to nearly twenty, but fortunately, they were well away from the bedlam. The drawback to this was that Bobby was seeing less of Pinky, as she spent her time in the home. She did not hesitate to show that she disapproved the luxury of the mansion.

The Bockman case was still proceeding, but the newspaper editors had told Louie to not send any more reports, only let them know when the verdict was to be handed down.

Arnold’s case proceeded very slowly. He was kept in 293

San Fernando jail all of the time. His locked bar had been long broken into and what little stock there was had been stolen. In fact, the thieves had taken everything that could be moved and smashed up that which couldn’t.

Arnold had employed the services of an attorney from Manila who turned out to be very good. He objected to the showing of the video, stating only still photographs could be entered into evidence by law. The judge had no choice but to sustain his objection. Having achieved this, he strongly objected to most of the testimony of Bobby and Louie by successfully having it labeled as hearsay. He successfully destroyed the evidence of Stella by not only producing her birth certificate, but also her own mother who testified as to the truth of it. She was well over legal age at the time of the alleged offense. He put Filipinos of note on the stand to testify to his character. The result was that Arnold was acquitted. Bobby was pleased in a way, they had made a huge profit on the accusation at small cost, he thought, to Arnold.

This ‘small cost’ to Arnold had been the total loss of his business and the theft or destruction of its assets together with a bill for back rent. While incarcerated it had been reported to him that his father in Switzerland was very sick but he was not allowed to visit him before he died.

After paying his lawyer he was totally broke and had lost eighteen months of his life at a time when every year was precious. Arnold’s friends raised sufficient money to allow him to return to Switzerland and at his age, try to start a new life.

Stella, had thankfully left on the same day that she had given her evidence. The Bockman trial still had at least one more month to run, and SACS bank account was once again in decline.

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39

Wanted – Perceived Pedophiles There had been another downside to the Arnold case. It had polarized the foreign resort owners and many of the longtime foreign residents against SACS in general and Bobby in particular. After the word of Arnold’s arrest had gone around, talk was of little else up and down the beach.

George came to see Bobby and was shown into the lounge, his eyes looking at both the size and the furniture. “You’ve done bloody well for yourself considering you’re a charity,” George observed, as he took a seat.

“Would you care for a beer. George?” asked Bobby.

“Don’t mind if I do,” answered George. Bobby went to the kitchen and returned with two bottles. He handed one to George and then sat down himself.

“What can I do for you, George?” asked Bobby.

“You can stop all of this nonsense with old Swiss Arnold, that’s what,” said George taking a swig.

“Why would I do that, George?” said Bobby. “He sells little girls. Didn’t you know?”

“That’s all bullshit,” said George angrily. “Old Arnold is one of the nicest men around here. He was upset the first time that Stella told him he had to bar fine her otherwise she was going anyway. He told me many a time that he wouldn’t have girls in his bar because he didn’t want to be a pimp. Well, if he won’t pimp girls, he certainly is not going to pimp kids.”

“I heard him offer, George,” said Bobby, calmly. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Then you must have misheard,” said George.

“Probably deliberately.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Bobby, feeling his anger rising.

“Well,” continued George. “You pumped me just 295

the day before wanting to know which bars sold kids. I told you that none of them did. I expect that you discovered that what I had told you was true, but you were determined, so you jump on poor old Arnold.”

“Two of us heard him,” said Bobby.

“Your sleazy mate was there as well was he?” said George. “Well. I would expect him to back you up no matter what you told him.”

“What is your beef, George?” asked Bobby.

“Look, mate,” said George. “I’ve known you and him since you came here with the ass out of your trousers.

You’ve both done very well out of this pedophile lark, just look around here. Bloody luxury and good luck to you. But when you start to affect our business, mate, like you are, well, enough is enough.”

“What do you mean, affect your business?” asked Bobby raising his voice.

“Raiding inside our resorts,” said George. “Arresting innocent guests and getting them deported and now setting up old Arnold and all in the name of getting more people to send more and more money to you.”

“We are here to eliminate pedophiles,” shouted Bobby.

“Problem is,” shouted George. “You are also eliminating tourists. We have seen the English television program you made and if that doesn’t stop people wanting to visit here then nothing will.”

“You and your mates just protect pedophiles,” accused Bobby. “They are good for business and that is all you care about,” “Piss off,” said George. “Accuse me of that with witnesses present and it will be your ass in court.”

“I see no point to furthering this conversation,” said 296

Bobby, rising. “Thank you for coming.”

George finished his beer and stood up. “I’ll go,” he said. “But you be warned. Much more of it and we will fight back, understand?”

Bobby was still shaking with anger when he relayed the conversation he had with George. “That’s it,” said Louie.

“We’re either friends or enemies. I will attack George on the website and tell everyone how the foreign pedophile protectors are giving us a hard time. Great stuff. I will write you some letters to the press where you will say that foreign bar and restaurant owners are threatening you and telling you to stop hunting pedophiles. It will cause an outcry.”

Louie had been correct, but the outcry was from foreign bar and restaurant owners who revealed that SACS had built a mansion for their administration while the children were packed into an old house. They revealed the story of the colonel who was innocent, and much more than Bobby would have liked. The locals were certainly awake as to what they were up too. Bobby had wanted to write even more vicious letters, but was prevailed upon by the wiser head of Jun. “Don’t throw oil on the fire,” he sad. “Filipinos have short memories and will soon forget these charges against you.”

It was just before Christmas that they had a lucky break. It was Louie that noticed it. Every morning they would sit having coffee on the balcony. When they had first moved in they had let their eyes continually scour the sea and admire the view. But these days they hardly ever even looked up. Familiarity can make a view virtually disappear.

For once, though, Louie was looking.

“I don’t think that yacht was there yesterday,” he commented. Bobby looked in the direction he was pointing.

About two hundred meters along the beach, in front of the 297

fishermen’s village, a yacht was anchored bow towards the shore. They could vaguely make out figures on the deck and clearly see splashes of a couple of children inexpertly swim the short distance to the vessel. “Let me fetch the glasses,” said Louie. He returned and put the binoculars to his eyes and adjusted the focus. “The boat is swarming with kids,” said Louie. “Well, there are six at least and more coming.

An old woman in the bow washing clothes, and oh boy – Popeye lives. Here, have a look at this guy.”

Bobby took the glasses and put them to his eyes. An old foreign man with a white moustache came into view. He was wearing a sailing hat, a white singlet and large, baggy, navy-colored shirts that hung below his skinny knees. A pipe was jutting from the corner of his mouth. He appeared to be attempting to tighten a stay. Children, mainly girls, were playing around the deck. Some were jumping off the boat and using the ladder to climb back on.

“There are young girls on that boat,” said Bobby.

“No boys at all.”

“Let me see,” said Louie, taking back the glasses.

“You are right. All of those kids are girls.”

“Unusual situation, isn’t it?” asked Bobby.

“We could have a live one at last,” said Louie, excitedly.

“Okay,” said Bobby. “Let us observe him for the rest of the day. One hour on and one hour off. I’ll fetch a notebook and pencil.”

They didn’t have much to observe for most of the day. The old man left the boat in a rubber dingy at ten and didn’t return until gone four. He had obviously been buying stores, as he loaded a number of cardboard boxes into the dingy before rowing out to the yacht. Only the old woman and two girls of about twelve were left on board when he 298

returned. When it got dark, lights could be seen through the cabin windows. Movement could be seen on deck at times, but it was too dark to see, so they gave up observation.

Bobby had set his alarm clock to ensure he was up before dawn. He made himself a mug of coffee and then went onto the balcony. It was marvelous at this time of day.

Waves lazily lapping against the sand and a light breeze was blowing. He watched the sky starting to brighten at the horizon, getting lighter and lighter until suddenly the rim of the sun poked over and everything became light. He was aware of the distant sounds of cocks crowing in the distance.

The peace was broken by the engine noise of a banca who sped from the shore either in the hope of casting his nets or dropping sticks of dynamite before the coastguard were awake and returning with fish for breakfast.

There was no sign of life on board the yacht as yet.

Then Bobby noticed a movement. He picked up the glasses and focused them. One of the young girls had come out of the cabin. She walked to the side of the boat closest to Bobby, turned her back to him, lowered her panties then sat on the gunwale with her bare bottom out over the side.

Bobby watched as she urinated, and the she stood up bareassed, pulled her panties back into position, scratched her head and moved towards the stern rail were she lay draped over it staring into the water. Shortly thereafter, the other girl appeared and did the same before joining her friend at the stern. Sweeping his glasses along the yacht he could see that the old woman had slept on the foredeck covered by tarpaulin.

“We’ve got him,” said Bobby to himself, as he pulled himself out of the chair and went to wake up Louie. “Get up and contact the local National Bureau of Investigation. This one is too big for the local police,” he said.

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“Goddamn it, Bobby,” grumbled Louie from his bed. “What time is it? Holy mother, it is not yet six o’clock.

It is no use telephoning before eight. Have some breakfast for Christ’s sake and let me get a shower.”

Two officers from the NBI arrived at 8.30 and were shown onto the balcony. Bobby explained the situation then demanded they go straight away and arrest the man.

“I think that we need to carry out our own observation first,” said Investigator Ebdane. “If you will allow us to use this balcony, father?”

“There is no need for investigation,” said an irritated Bobby. “There are my notes and I will swear to what I have witnessed.”

“I still think that we should observe for ourselves, father,” said Ebdane. “You may have wanted to believe in what you saw.”

“Turn on the camera, Jaans,” said an angry Bobby. “I may want a record of this. Now. Investigator Ebdane. Based upon the information I have given you are you prepared to make an immediate arrest of that man on the yacht?” “ Would prefer to us to observe the situation for ourselves, sir,” he answered.

“So,” said Bobby. “If he lifts anchor and sails away today, you are fully prepared to accept the responsibility?” asked Bobby.

“Rather than make a premature arrest, one that is done before we have the evidence of a crime? Yes, I am,” he answered.

“Do you want me to telephone your boss in Manila right now and inform him, and then get him to order you to make the arrest?” asked an angry Bobby.

“That is your prerogative, sir,” answered Ebdane.

“And, if that man sails off,” said an angry Bobby. “Are 300

you aware that I will write to every newspaper and make the public aware of your obvious incompetence?”

Ebdane didn’t answer. He turned to his companion.

“We will ask him to accompany us for questioning. If he refuses, we leave.”

“Then, lets go,” said Bobby, moving towards the door.

On the shore, they asked a boatman to take them out to the yacht. The beach sloped steeply at this point and so the yacht was less than fifty meters offshore. Bobby sat in the front in order to be first on board. Jaans, with camera running, sat immediately behind him. As soon as they bumped the side, Bobby followed by Jaans leapt aboard. The old man came towards them, wiping his hands in an old cloth. The two girls, now sat on top of the cabin, watched with interest. As the NBI men climbed on board, Bobby, pointing at the man said for the camera, “Your game is up.

You will not hurt anymore children.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” asked the man in a strong Australian accent. Ebdane roughly brushed Bobby aside. “Good morning, sir, “ he said. “May I know your name?”

“Yeah,” said the man. “I’m Jack Windsor. What’s yours?”

“I am Jun Ebdane of the National Bureau of Investigation,” answered Ebdane. “A complaint has been lodged against you, sir, and I am here to investigate it.”

“A complaint?” asked Jack, astonished. “Don’t tell me I have been playing my bleeding radio too loud again.”

“No, sir,” said Ebdane. “A little more serious than that. Who slept on board last night?”

“Well,” said Jack. “Me, the two girls and their auntie.

Why?” 301

“I wonder if you would mind accompanying us to our office to answer some questions, sir” asked Ebdane.

“Yes. No worries,” said Jack. “Let me put a pair of pants on first. These things are alright for on board, but they look a bit stupid in town.”

He went into the cabin and came out in long gray trousers. Jaans filmed them all getting into the boat and Bobby deliberately helped Jack by putting a hand on his arm. On the video it would look as though he was holding Jack to prevent his escape. They also took the two girls.

In the office, Bobby was made to wait in the reception, while the trio were taken out to offices in the back. At lunchtime, Bobby offered to take the two girls back to the home for lunch, and they didn’t return to the NBI office until nearly four. Bobby inquired at the desk and Ebdane come out. “How are the enquiries going?” he asked Ebdane. “As far was we are concerned, sir, they are finished.”

“So, you have charged Mr. Windsor” “No, sir,” said Ebdane. “We have released him for the lack of evidence.”

“What the hell do you mean, lack of evidence?” asked Bobby, his voice rising.

Sir,” Ebdane began patiently. “Mr. Windsor said that nothing happened. The two girls slept in the cabin but in one bunk, while Mr. Windsor just slept in the other.

They both state that nothing happened and their aunt was also on board. So there is no evidence of any crime being committed at all. I suggest that you drop the girls off at their village.”

“No way,” said Bobby. “They are in need of care and protection. We are taking them with us to SACS. We will apply to keep them there in the morning. You are a disgrace.

You have let a pedophile loose. You will hear more of this.”

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Bobby stumped out, ushering the girls in front of him.

The following morning, the yacht was gone. Bobby telephoned the NBI to abuse them, but they told him that Mr. Windsor was sailing to Manila to collect his passport that had been left with the Bureau of Immigration for a visa extension. His plan was to anchor in Subic Bay that night and then proceed to Manila.

“I’ll get my friend in Immigration to have him picked up in Subic and held as an undocumented alien, which he is because they have his passport,” said Jun. “They will hold him a few days while we make up our mind what we can do.

“What we have to do,” said Bobby. “Is to jog the memory of those two girls to remember how he assaulted them.”

“Hard at the moment,” said Jun. “I have spoken to them and they still say that nothing happened.”

“Bullshit,” said Bobby. “Are you trying to tell me that they spend all night in a small cabin with a man and he does nothing?”

“That’s how it could have been,” said Jun, cautiously.

“No it wasn’t,” said Bobby. “Fetch the doctor here now. I want those girls examined tonight.”

The doctor came and went. Jun duly reported the result to Bobby who was sat waiting with Louie. “The doctor reports that both girls have their hymens intact. No penetration took place.”

“Then he most probably did cunalingus on them or they sucked him off,” said Bobby.

“You can only assume that unless the girls state he did,” said Jun. “I think he did,” said Louie.

“Why?” asked Jun. 303

“Because we need him to have done it,” said Louie, smiling.

“I don’t understand?” stated Jun. “Look,” said Louie. “Next week the judge is handing down his verdict on Bockman. He is certain to be guilty and sentenced to death. We will get a huge amount of publicity out of that and the cash will flow in. The problem is that the Bockman case has taken fifteen months, and that was an open and shut one. We now know that unless there is something sensational going on, then the money flow slows and would stop. We always need a sensational case in the court and right now, we have not got one to take over where Bockman leaves off. If we can remind those girls of what really went on, then we have one.”

“I agree with Louie,” said Bobby. “But what is more important, I believe I am right. That old man is a pedophile.

Look at how he has children around him all of the time.

Who does he think he is? Santa Clause?”

“I see,” said Jun, touching his chin. “Even if we’re wrong, he will get his chance to prove it in court. I tell you what. Louie. Rough out the scenario that you believe was most likely, and then leave the girls to me.”

“What will you do?” asked Bobby.

“First,” said Jun. “We keep the girls away from anyone, including each other.”

“That means they will have to stay here rather than the home,” said Louie.

“Yes,” said Jun. “Fortunately we can lock the doors from the outside, and each room has its own comfort room.

I will take each for a period on the beach each day, but not together.”

“Won’t their parents object that they are not attending school?” asked Bobby.

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“We apply to the court tomorrow and obtain the order to keep them here because they require therapy to overcome their experience.”

“Good thinking,” said Louie.

“In that manner we can even deny the parents access,” said Jun. ”Once the Bockman verdict is down and we have milked the publicity on it, You two intend to go for a trip to see your parents, correct?”

“Yeah,” said Louie. “It’s been a long time.”

“I think that by the time you return,” said Jun, smiling. “The girls may have regained their memories of the events. Meanwhile, our friend will be in the detention of the Bureau of Immigration, so he will not go far.”

The decision was made. Windsor, then just tacking towards a mooring in Subic Bay was blissfully unaware that his retirement plans were soon to rudely interrupted.

40

One More Try All was going as planned. The courts issued the order for the two girls, Maria and Misha to become wards of the court and to be resident at SACS, with parents denied access until completion of therapy.

The newspapers and television stations had a field day when Bockman was given the death sentence. Bobby had extensive interviews in Asiaweek and Time magazines, which delayed their departure for three weeks. The donations though, were coming in thick and fast when they did board a flight to Los Angeles, but this time in Business Class.

Both sets of parents were at the airport to greet them and whisk them off to their respective homes. Over champagne on the terrace, Reyes Sr. toasted his one and only son and with tears in his eyes told Bobby how proud 305

he was of him. Bobby then slept for the remainder of the day and right through the night. The following morning he sat in the once familiar kitchen while his mother, who had surprisingly aged, fussed over him and made him breakfast.

He telephoned Louie and arranged to meet for lunch with the old crowd. That lunch went on until the following morning, Bobby spending the night with a glorious blonde with her own apartment. It was good to be absolutely free once more, and to be able to taste a white woman again.

To his parents disappointment, he spent little of the next two weeks at home. He did spend one evening at a dinner thrown especially for him, but he found it exceedingly dull. After all the guests had departed, instead of going to bed, he drove back into the city that also never sleeps, not returning until dawn.

His father was continually saying to his mother that nothing had changed, but she would gently argue that being a missionary in a poor place was a very hard existence, and Bobby needed to let off steam.

All too soon, it came time to return. Bobby was half expecting that Louie would not want to return to the Philippines, and was therefore pleased to see him waiting at the airport. “I thought you would want to stay,” he remarked.

“What?” asked Louie. “And miss the big one?”

The journey was long, and once more, they stopped the night in Manila for one last taste of debauchery before returning to the forced celibacy of San Fernando. Both Bobby and Louie agreed though that the many white girls they had bedded on their vacation were nowhere in the league of the Filipinos when it came to sexual performance.

Jun welcomed them back at the mansion the following afternoon and sat with them to bring them up on the latest happenings. After they had enjoyed a couple 306

of drinks, Louie tentatively asked about Maria and Misha.

A smile beamed on Jun’s face as from behind his back he produced two sets of their affidavits. The room was quiet as Bobby and Louie read their copies. Louie gave a whoop of joy. This will nail the old bastard,” he said. “Well done, Jun. Did you clean the thumbscrews?”

“No need for that,” said Jun. “I still have them in isolation, however, and will keep them that way until they have testified.”

“This is brilliant,” said Bobby. “Each of them are not only victims, but witnessed the acts being performed on the other. He is gone for sure. When can we lodge the complaint?”

“I would suggest next week,” said Jun. “We need to reinforce their story in them. Once in front of Peter they could recant.”

“Do you mean that this isn’t true?” asked Bobby.

“It could be,” smiled Jun. “But they want to talk to you. They believe you are a priest. I suggest that tomorrow you wear your official gear and you talk to each of them, stressing how important it is for them not to waver.”

“I’ll do that tomorrow morning,” agreed Bobby.

The following morning, a sober-looking Bobby sat in his black shirt with half-collar sat in one of the comfortable armchairs in the studio because that had become the interviewing area. The hidden camera was switched on to record the talks, first with Misha and then with Maria.

Jun brought in Misha, holding her by the hand, and sat her down in the armchair close to Bobby. “I’ll leave you with the father,” he said to the girl, and then left.

Misha was a shy girl. Bobby slowly went through the statement she had signed. He wondered if she fully understood English, because the original statement was in 307

Ilocano, while this was the translation. Bobby kept smiling kindly at her as he went through it asking her all time, “You do remember this happening, don’t you?” Misha would just nod, but Bobby would say. “You must speak up, Misha. Mr. Windsor is a bad man. So if you are asked, you must say it.

Now,” he said. “He lay you down on the bunk. Then what did he do?”

“He kissed me?” she said quietly.

“Where did he kiss you?” asked Bobby.

“On the mouth,” she answered, getting the hang of it now.

“Then what did he do?” asked Bobbie.

“He removed my shorts,” she said.

“How about your panties?” asked Bobby. “Did he remove your panties too?”

“No,” said Misha, emphatically.

“Surely he removed your panties, Misha?” asked Bobby, trying to keep the impatience from his voice.

“No,” said Misha again.

“Why did he not remove your panties?” asked Bobby.

“I don’t wear panties,” she said. Bobby almost laughed out loud with relief.

Slowly, then went through the story and Bobby saw that she was well drilled. “You are very brave,” he told the girl, just before their interview was ended. “You are helping save other little girls from going through what you went through. Some men are very bad. They are friends of the devil, and Mr. Windsor is the devil’s friend.”

Maria was to prove to be a different kettle of fish. As soon as Jun left them she said, “I hate Tito Jun.” Bobby was a bit taken aback at this outburst.

“Why do you hate Tito Jun?” he asked.

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“He keeps me a prisoner. He won’t let me talk to Misha who is my best friend and he won’t let my mama see me when she comes to visit me. I miss my mama,” she said, starting to cry.

“Well,” said Bobby. “If you help Tito Jun, then you will soon go home.”

“Tito Jun says that unless I tell the lies he wants me to say about Tito Jack, then he will have me and my mama put into jail and we will stay there until I grow up. Telling lies is wrong, isn’t it father?’

“You’re not telling lies, Maria,” said Bobby soothingly. “Sometimes, when nasty things happen to us, our brain doesn’t want us to remember them. Tito Jack did something nasty to you. We know that is the truth because Misha was on the other bunk and watched him do it to you, just as you have it written here. Is Misha a liar?”

Maria appeared puzzled. “Misha saw him doing something to me?”

“Yes,” said Bobby, picking up the statement from Misha. “She says here, ‘I saw Tito Jack remove Maria’s shorts and then he spread her legs and put his hand on her pepe and rubbed. Then he backed down the bunk and put his head between her legs and I could hear him licking her pepe. He kept lifting his head and saying to Maria, ‘You like that, don’t you, you bad girl’. So you see, Misha says she saw everything, and you in turn watched as the same thing happened to Misha. Then he wanted you both to fondle him to ‘watch the elephant spit’ as he told you.”

“Yes,” she said. “I think I remember it now. If I remember clearly, will I be able to go home?”

“Of course,” said Bobby, then having an idea. “And what is more you will make your mama rich, because once Tito Jack is sent to prison you will be given P50,000.”

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“That much money?” asked an astonished Maria.

Bobby knew full well that this was the usual damages ordered by the court against a guilty pedophile. “Yes,” said Bobby. “Providing you stick to what you have put in your statement. If you change it and Tito Jack is allowed to go free, then you will get nothing.”

“I am remembering better now,” she said. “You are right father. My brain is trying to make me forget.”

The session then proceeded much as the one with Misha. They were not finished until lunchtime and Bobby felt exhausted. Before joining the others, he showered and donned a t-shirt and shorts.

“You’re going to have to work a bit harder on Maria,” said Bobby to Jun. “She just might change her mind.”

“I agree,” said Jun. “I think I will get her away from here for a couple of weeks to my brothers farm in Ilocos del Norte. She can run free a bit there and perhaps forget her mother for a while.”

The following week, they lodged the complaint, a warrant of arrest was obtained and Jack Windsor was escorted from Manila to San Fernando jail. He was very concerned about his boat and paid one of the local fishermen to go to Subic and sail it to San Fernando. The man returned with the news that the yacht was no more. It had not been stolen, but rather stripped of everything of use and then left to run onto the beach where it lay. The locals were using the hulk as a source of firewood.

It took many weeks to come to trial and not only did the charges include lascivious behavior but also, because Windsor had given them both food, candies and a few pesos, that of inducing prostitution.

All went well with Misha. She gave her evidence under direct and survived and rigorous cross-examination.

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Maria though, was a different story and the defendant’s lawyer sensed it. Under cross-examination she became more and more visibly distressed, continually looking at Jack Windsor in the dock. Overcoming many objections, the lawyer pressed and pressed until suddenly, she screamed and shouted, “I am being forced to lie. It’s not true. He did nothing to me.” The court was in an uproar. The judge had to repeatedly bang his gavel to restore order. “A recess,” hissed Bobby to Attorney Lopez. “Call for a recess. I need to talk with her and calm her.”

Lopez stood and motioned for a recess to be called.

The judge agreed, and Bobby leapt forward to take the arm of Maria. She violently tugged away. “I don’t want to go with you,” she shouted. “I want to go home and see my mama.”

The judge banged his gavel. “Brother Roberto,” he said loudly. “You will please resume your seat. Now.” Bobby looked directly in the eyes of the man he thought he had made a deal with, and saw a look of, if not disgust, at least dislike. He felt though that he had better resume his seat. As he sat, Louie put his hand on his arm. “Easy, buddy. Easy,” he said.

“I have yet to complete what I was about to say,” explained the judge. “I do intend to recess this court until tomorrow morning. However, in the meantime, I wish to talk with the witness in chambers.” Both lawyers stood and started to make their way towards where the break in the end of the judge’s bench allowed access to his chamber.

“Privately,” added the judge. “The court is now in recess.” He banged his gavel and immediately stood and left through the door into his chamber. The clerk gently ushered the girl in behind him.

Outside Bobby, Louie, Jun and Attorney Lopez stood in a group under the shade of a tree.

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“What happens now?” asked Bobby.

“The judge is having a private talk with one of the alleged victims is what is happening now,” said Lopez. “My concern is what exactly is she going to reveal to him?”

Bobby shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know. She’s obviously having a nervous breakdown from the bullying of the defense lawyer.”

“I am not so sure that she is,” observed Lopez. “She was perfectly okay on my direct. She affirmed all that was written by her in her affidavit with no problem. She now, suddenly, says it is all lies. Why?” “Pressure?” asked Louie.

“Her affidavit was given voluntarily, wasn’t it?” asked Lopez. “I mean, you didn’t exert any undue pressure for her to make such statements?”

“Of course not,” said Jun. “Bear in mind that she has been traumatized by her experience and has been having therapy.”

“Are you saying that she is unstable?” said Lopez.

“That’s it,” said Bobby. “She is unstable.”

“That much is obvious,” said Lopez. “Her outburst in court shows that. The question I am asking is why? You say it is because of her experience, but with whom? Windsor or you lot?”

“I’m shocked that you should make such a statement,” said Bobby.

“Well,” said Lopez. “Don’t be. I have been a little worried about this case all along.”

“Why?” said Bobby.

“Well,” continued Lopez. “In the first place you didn’t ask for my services in obtaining the affidavits.”

“Well,” answered Bobby. “It is a long way for you to come for such a simple matter.”

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“I am not complaining,” said Lopez. “But does it not appear strange to you that both affidavits are virtually exactly the same, except the names Maria and Misha have been interchanged? It is not only rare, but virtually impossible for two victims who are also witnesses to narrate such statements independently.”

The other three exchanged glances. “Are you inferring we made them up?” asked Bobby.

“I am not inferring anything,” answered Lopez.

“Only stating facts, which is what I deal in. I will see you all tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and quickly walked in the direction where he had parked his car.

“Shit,” exploded Bobby. “I wonder what Maria is saying to the judge.

“I don’t know,” said Jun. “It is a good job he is a friend of ours. We don’t need more enemies. Did you notice how many foreigners were in the courtroom today?”

“To hell with them,” said Bobby. “They are just a load of pedophile protectors.”

The following morning the judge opened the session, and Maria was called to the bench. “Yesterday,” he opened. “I had a long talk with this child. I will not reveal what was said as any conversation in my chamber remains strictly private. However, I intend to immediately dismiss the charge of this child against Mr. Windsor. This has put me into an awkward position. The other complainant, Ms. Misha Palad has not had cause to talk with me or withdraw her complaint, and thus that still stands before the court. It cannot, however, stand before my court because revelations made to me, be they true or false, have nevertheless provided sufficient cause for me to inhibit myself. Thus the remaining case has been transferred to the sala of Judge Inesse. The relevant attorneys should consult with him as to 313

what date the case will recommence. Court adjourned.” He banged his gavel and left.

Bobby approached Maria. “You can find your own way home,” he hissed. “You have your wish, you Jezebel.”

“You tried to make me lie,” she said, head held high.

“And you are a priest.” She pushed past him to the door and disappeared through it.

“Hey,” said Louie. “Maria has just run away.”

“Let her go,” said Bobby. “She is no use to us now.”

“So,” said Lopez, joining them. “We have to start all over again. I hope you can assure me that Misha at least agrees that she was assaulted,” “There will be no worries there, attorney,” said Jun. Two months later the trial began. There was a different lawyer for the defense, fortunately one not quite as competent as the first. One would have thought that having lost the co-complainant who was also the sole witness to the alleged assault, that acquittal would have been almost automatic. The judge could not have been unaware of the fact that Maria had revealed how she had been coerced into signing her affidavit. Which although officially should not have affected the case before him, should have had some influence when it came to judging who was lying, the accuser or the accused. Even Louie was starting to believe that they had backed a loser this time, when, to their surprise, the judge entered a guilty verdict and Windsor was sentenced to seventeen years jail.

Louie had been so convinced that he was not going to win that he had failed to invite the press to hear the verdict, fearing it would be against them, and so he had to work overtime in dispatching sensational reports to all of the national newspapers.

The foreign community was shocked and then 314

angry and bombarded the press with letters, which gave Bobby the opportunity to name them pedophile protectors and thus obtain even more publicity. Windsor had lodged an immediate appeal and so the collection of the P50,000 Misha had been awarded was going to be delayed. She confronted Bobby and asked for it immediately, believing it was Brother Bobby who had promised it. He responded by kicking her out of the house with just P20 to find her way home. She was spotted the following week selling plastic bags in the local market.

The incident had divided the town. There were interviews with Windsor from his cell. He was a very angry old man, made even worse when Maria and her mother visited him to say how sorry they were for what they had done. He informed the press that they admitted that they were kept prisoner and offered P50,000 to stick to their story. “At least Maria thought that the truth was more valuable than the money,” he said in one report.

Bobby felt the hidden hostility whenever he went into town. They felt that he was driving tourists away, and tourists provided income.

Even within the mansion, something had gone, and gone forever. The money was still rolling in as were the speaking invitations, but Bobby felt no joy in it anymore.

Although Pinky still worked voluntarily with the children every weekend, he rarely now even visited the children.

Pinky and Bobby were drifting apart. Louie and Mia had finished their romance two weeks before they had left for their vacation because she had announced she was going to work in Manila “in a proper job.” “I think she wanted me to propose to her,” said Louie. “But would you buy a car without having a trial drive?”

Many a day passed with Bobby sat on the balcony just 315

reading a book. Often, when he looked up, he could see thunderclouds on the horizon. He didn’t know that they did not just signify the coming onset of the rainy season, but were more prophetic.

Worse, Jun seemed to distance himself more and more, often not even coming in for a day. “He shouldn’t be blaming us for old Windsor,” said Bobby. “He was the one who got the statements, not us.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a Filipino now,” observed an also languid Louie.

41

A Swift Fall “Father Puigi wants an appointment with you at eleventhirty on Friday,” announced Jun, in one of his increasingly rare appearances.

“What does he want?” asked Bobby, looking up from his book.

“He didn’t tell me anything except to say that I am to be in attendance, but he says that he will stay for lunch.”

“The arrogant old bastard,” said Louie. “Tell him that we do not have a cook at present.”

“He is aware of that,” said Jun. “He says he will send his cook together with all ingredients across at ten, but that you are to provide a plentiful supply of wine because it could be a long meeting.”

“Tell him to get stuffed,” said Bobby.

“Oh, Come on, Bobby,” said Louie. “It is getting boring around here. Let’s entertain the old coot. At least we will have a good lunch.”

“Okay,” said Bobby. “Tell him that sounds fine and we are looking forward to it.”

For some unknown reason, Bobby felt nervous when he 316

awoke on the Friday morning. He felt that something was going to drop on his head. After trying to concentrate on his book, he eventually showered and changed to get ready for the visit of the priest. He had Louie let the cook in, show her the kitchen and help her carry up the ample provisions for lunch. Louie had gone to town and brought back a case of excellent red wine. Promptly, at 11.30 the doorbell rang and Bobby went to greet the priest, who stood beaming on the doorstep.

“Brother Roberto,” he said, and uncharacteristically took Bobby’s head and kissed him on both cheeks. A chill went through Bobby at that moment with a flash of the movie “the Godfather,” where such an act marked down the victim.

Bobby saw that Jun was with the priest. They all ascended the stairs and Bobby led them onto the balcony where they had prepared wine and the local sausage, but imported cheeses. The priest, still smiling, stood and looked all around him.

“You have been a naughty boy,” he said, still smiling.

“What do you mean?” asked a defensive Bobby.

“This is the first time I have visited your home,” said the priest. “I do not believe you have even had it blessed.”

“We were going to arrange that when the annex was completed,” excused Bobby.

“But you are allowing evil spirits into this part right now,” said the priest. “Jun. As nobody is offering, would you be kind enough to give me a tour? We will join these two when we have finished and join them in some wine.”

Feeling dismissed in their own house, Bobby and Louie moved back to the balcony, filled four glasses with wine, taking one each.

“What is going on?” asked Bobby.

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“I don’t know,” answered Louie. “But I can tell you this.

His high spirits has me worried. He is up to something and we will be the loser.”

“I think you might be right,” said Bobby, just as the priest and Jun joined them.

“What a perfect place,” said the priest. “It has everything, and so beautifully furnished as well. You have done an excellent job. Salute” They raised their glasses with his. “And such an excellent wine,” said the priest with genuine pleasure. “I only hope that Leng-Leng has matched it with her cuisine.”

“Can I ask as to why you called this meeting, father,” asked Bobby.

“Well, first I wanted to see this place you have built,” said the priest. “As you didn’t invite me, I had to invite myself. Now I have seen it, you can consider the first item on the agenda over and done with. As to the second, I will deal with that after we have enjoyed our lunch.”

As if on cue, the cook came onto the balcony to announce that lunch was ready. Louie hurried to open another three bottles of wine, and they all went to the dining room, that also had a view along the beach. “Magnificent,” said the priest upon entering.

“As honored guest, father,” said Bobby. “Please sit at the head of the table.”

“Well, thank you, Roberto,” said the father, taking his chair.

Lunch was excellent with five courses altogether along with a great deal of wine. The priest kept them all amused with his tales of various parishioners, and both Bobby and Louie were feeling relaxed when they retired to the lounge to take coffee and begin their meeting. They all sat in chairs around the coffee table that contained the large pot of 318

brewed coffee and the various condiments.

The priest looked at his watch. “Perfect,” he said. “I have two people joining us for a few minutes after which we will get down to the business of this meeting.” The doorbell rang. “Jun,” said the priest. “That will be they. Would you be good enough to show them up here?”

Bobby felt more like having a nap than a meeting so closed his eyes while waiting the arrival of the strangers.

“Hello, Bobby,” said a voice he vaguely recognized. He opened his eyes to see who had spoken and then, once he saw, he sat bolt upright in his chair. It was Peaches from Angeles City. Worse, stood alongside her was Apple. They looked different, dressed in ordinary cotton dresses, wearing no make up and their hair hanging down.

“What the hell are you doing here?’ he blurted out.

“Apple,” said an equally startled Louie. “You have come here?”

“I love reunions,” said the priest, leant back in his chair with the fingertips of both hands touching. “Now, girls, sit over there.”

“How did you find them?” asked Bobby.

“The photographs,” Louie reminded him. “The weekend he had us followed.”

“Yes, indeed,” said the still smiling priest. “And where they worked and lived. Everything in fact. Such sweet children.”

“So,” said Bobby. “Why have you brought them here?”

“So that they can tell you a story,” said the priest. “You like stories, don’t you?”

“Depends on the subject,” said Bobby.

“Well,” continued the priest. “Mr. Louie there, he likes writing stories about men on yachts and things like that.”

Louie kept quiet. “Now, who is first?” continued the 319

priest. “I think Peaches. Peaches my dear. Tell us of a tragic piece of your life story.”

Peaches sat up, took a big breath and with a quick sidelong glance at Bobby began: “I was just fifteen when I met him, well them really. I was with my friend in the Walkabout Café having a Sprite when two men joined us at the table.

We could see that they were Filipino but they spoke with American accents. It was Bobby and Louie. They talked to us and told us that they were from Hollywood looking for young Filipinos to appear in a movie. The wanted to offer us a part but the forms we had to fill in were in their hotel room. So, Apple and myself went with them to the Orchid Hotel, One told the other they would be finished quicker if we they each got one of us to fill in the form rather than wait.

I entered his room, but when he closed the door he held me and started to kiss me. I was crying but he forced me onto the bed and removed by panties, and then he forced his thing inside of me and it hurt. I bled because I was a virgin, but afterwards he was so nice to me, letting me use the shower and that. He promised me that if I stayed with him and let him do it again, then he would take me to Manila and get me a visa to go to America with him. I really wanted to go to America and so I stayed with him for three nights. Then he gave me some money and told me he would be back in a few weeks because he had to go to Manila to make the arrangements. He even had my passport photographs taken to take with him. Apple said the same happened to her. We were ever so excited when they both returned because we thought we were going with them to Hollywood and be in the movies. I slept with him for two nights and then he just disappeared, leaving me some money on the dressing table.

I felt like a prostitute.”

“That is a bloody lie,” shouted Bobby, standing up.

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“My dear Roberto,” said the priest. “One doesn’t want a charge of assaulting a minor added to those already being prepared against you.”

Bobby collapsed in the chair. This was just not happening. “Now,” said the priest. “Little miss Apple. Does your own tragic tale corroborate that of dear miss Peaches?”

“Yes,” said Apple. “I was a virgin too.”

“In your ass,” snarled Louie.

“Now, now,” said the priest smiling. “Let us all be gentlemen. Now Apple. How old were you when these two encounters took place?”

“I was nearly sixteen,” she answered.

“Jun, would you take the ladies down to the car and have them driven to the manse. No need to upset them more than necessary.”

Jun and the girls left. “You won’t get away with it,” said Bobby. “We will locate the bar owner and get him to testify as well as hotel owners where those two sluts stay with customers.”

“No doubt you will,” said the priest, gently. “But will you be able to explain as to why you had sexual intercourse with girls of such a young age, especially as men who are devoted to stopping pedophiles?”

“They are over eighteen,” protested Louie.

“They have birth certificates that clearly indicate that they were not at the time you committed the offense,” said the priest. “Albeit late registrations, but can you prove they are lying?”

“This will never prosper in court,” said Bobby, more for himself than the others.

“It may not prosper in court,” said the priest quietly.

“But I feel certain that it will be a big hit with the circus that is called the media. I can almost see the headlines now.”

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“You cunning old bastard,” said Louie. Jun had just returned. “This is a total set-up.”

“It is, isn’t it?” laughed the priest. “And guess from whom I learned the techniques. Ah. Louie. You should have been born an Italian.”

“So,” said Bobby. “What do you want from us?” Money?

Is that it?”

“We need more wine before we talk business,” said the priest. Jun obliging went around refilling the glasses. “I need a stiff bourbon,” commented Louie, as the implications slowly began to sink into his brain.

After sipping his wine, the priest looked at them. “I would like you to be the first to know,” he said. “That I intend to retire from the rigors of parish life.”

“Congratulations,” said Louie. “So you want a generous donation to your Retired Priests Benevolent Fund?”

“I said I was going to retire from parish work, not retire full stop,” answered the priest. “You, of course, will either be in the jail or returning to America. That of course, is your choice. Fight this thing, be ruined by the press anyway, and possibly be found guilty and jailed.”

“But we are innocent,” protested Bobby, weakly.

“You deny that you had sex with these girls?” asked the priest, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, no,” said Bobby. “But they are prostitutes. It is what they do for a living?”

“But they gave you some pleasure, surely?” asked the priest.

“Well, yes,” said Bobby.

“Well,” said the priest. “Did Mr. Windsor obtain any pleasure?”

“Probably not,” admitted Bobby.

“Then,” said the priest. “When you are in jail, at least 322

you have the consolation of having enjoyed committing your crime. Poor Mr. Windsor is in jail and I do not believe he committed any crime. So, you will be better off than he is.” The priest smiled.

“Of course,” the priest continued. “The cases have yet to be filed and it wouldn’t be worth the trouble if you were to leave the country and return to America.”

“Why should we leave?” asked Louie.

“Well,” said the priest. “What are you going to do here?

If you are in jail, you will not be living in this house, but as the new Chief Executive Officer of SACS, I will be. Of course, there are far too many rooms for me, so I will move in some priestly friends of mine who also wish to retire.

This place is perfect for us.”

“How can you be appointed the CEO of SACS?” asked Louie. “It belongs to us. Bobby and me.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” said the still smiling priest.

“SACS is a non-stock-non-profit company. The largest incorporator is my good friend the Governor, and I have here a letter appointing me as the CEO. Under Philippine law, he has the right to do so.” The priest withdrew a folded letter from his pocket. “He agrees with me that these offenses of yours should be hushed up if possible. If not, we must dissociate SACS with both of you.”

“How about the children?” asked Bobby.

“So now you care about the children?” asked the priest in astonishment. “We intend to finish the annex and move them there. Of course we will keep the children’s home going.

With no rent to pay it almost becomes self-supporting and the generosity of our local church, under a new priest of course, will make up the difference. The acronym will stay but will in future stand for St. Anne’s Children’s Shelter.”

“So,” said Bobby. “We are out, and you are in. It’s a lay323

down mazaire.”

“Had I known you played Bridge, Roberto,” said the priest. “I would have invited you over to join us. We often have to postpone our Tuesday game for need of a fourth.”

“I don’t play the game,” said Bobby sourly. “But watching you operate, I wish I had learned.”

“Fine,” said the beaming priest. “Now, I will give you one week to pack your things and make arrangements to vacate. I have appointed Jun as my manager, so you can give the keys to him.”

Louie turned to Jun. “Judas,” he hissed.

“Also,” said the priest. “In acknowledgement of your good work in building up SACS to what it has become, we have decided to reward you by paying for your tickets, economy class of course. We are, after all, a charity.”

Bobby and Louie looked at each wondering if they had heard correctly.

“Is that all?” asked Bobby. “Surely, we should get something for our work?”

“Looking around at your lifestyle, it would appear that you have already been amply reimbursed,” said the father.

“Remember, ‘Go you and sin no more’ is what our master said.”

“Please drop by the manse for a farewell drink before you go,” he said rising. “Don’t bother to see me out. It is well that I learn the way myself.”

“Well, buddy,” said Louie, letting his seat back without spilling the bourbon in his hand. “What do you intend to do now?”

“I am going to enroll in law school,” he answered. “Next time, I want to be the one that knows the rules. How much longer before we reach Los Angeles?” There was no answer as the purring of the aircraft’s engines had caused Louie to 324

close his eyes.

42

Manila Correspondent

Alan Atkins Preaching to prisoners including those on “Death Row�, New Bilibid Prison, and Philippines. By Alan Atkins.

Self Styled Evangelist When first learning of the intended visit by self-styled evangelists and former Lecturer, David Clarke, from Fareham, Hampshire, and Gordon Smith from Merley, Nr. Bournemouth, England, to the Philippines, a number of resident foreigners were angry and dismayed. This was not for the fact that the pair wanted to share their experiences of conversion to Christianity that was their business. Rather, it was the deeper motive of purportedly attempting to assist in the early release of David Clark’s brother, Michael Clark, from the hell-hole that is called New Bilibid Prison, where he had been sentenced to serve 14 years. The angry resident foreigners, all of whom are involved in fighting to obtain justice for many foreigners falsely convicted in a country where the justice system is decidedly faulty to say the least, believed the visit would be detrimental to their own efforts.

Initially, the pair was to be accompanied by Albert Wilson, the Dover resident who had obtained acquittal and release from a death sentence just eighteen months previously. It was believed that certain local vigilante organizations, which had been screaming after his acquittal, would have drawn adverse publicity, which would have 325

hampered the efforts of the locals.

Provoking Anger German, Harry Joost, and Britain, Alan Atkins, had dispatched angry missives to David Clark stating that they both could not see just what good the mission would achieve. Both believed that it would set the cases of incarcerated foreigner’s back, as living here for many years, they fully understood the Philippine psyche. Vocal criticism by foreigners would lead to the Filipino authorities digging in their heels, just to show whose country it really was.

Genuine Reason To Visit David Clarke, in particular, had a genuine reason to visit. There is little doubt that his brother, Michael Clark, convicted of running tours for paedophiles, was cleverly encouraged to make a silly, facetious remark while being secretly filmed by a British television company needing sensationalism. The case was gleefully seized upon by the self-styled “peodophile-busting priest”, Father Shay Cullen.

Cullen, who has a huge property overlooking Subic Bay, obtains millions from donations to support his children’s home, which, incidentally, only contains between 26 and 36 children at any one time. Michael Clarke is only one of the high profile convictions he has obtained against alleged foreign paedophiles. Each conviction is accompanied by fan-fare overseas, mainly in Germany and Italy, and results in a massive inflow of cash.

Many Criminal Convictions Questioned Many of these convictions are being questioned.

The nemesis of Cullen is German national, Harry Joost, whose Filipino wife owns a small restaurant on a local beach. Joost initially battled Cullen over the conviction of what Cullen claimed to be the first foreign paedophile to be jailed, Australian Victor Fitzgerald. Over the years, 326

Joost has worked to get the appeal granted. Just last week, Fitzgerald, after eight long years, was released on bail with a re-trial ordered. Fitzgerald’s accuser, who was then only 13 years old, but is now 21, issued an affidavit three years ago.

It is a horror story. She tells how she, and two other girls whose cases against Fitzgerald were dismissed for lack of merit, were kept prisoner in Cullen’s children’s home and continually coached in the evidence they would present and how to act hysterical while in front of the judge, etc.

How she and one of the other girls escaped and went to the Olongapo mayor’s office, but Cullen had warrants of arrest issued and they were forced back to the home. She gave many more detailed events of coercion and admitted that her evidence was all lies, given under the threat of never being released from the home.

Father Shay Cullen In an unusual move, the local bishop and twenty-one priests appealed to the Court of Appeals stating that they believed that Father Cullen’s methods were “questionable.”

For his troubles, Harry Joost has been the victim of vicious attacks both in the press and on Internet from Cullen, who has labelled him the leader of a “paedophile protection ring.” Other cases have emerged, and local observers are now saying, “When is a paedophile not a paedophile? When he is convicted by Shay Cullen.” It is interesting to note that Father Shay Cullen has been nominated by a Scottish M. P. for the Nobel Prize. The Fitzgerald re-trial may well decide him to withdraw this nomination, quickly. (See NBI Report 1996) APPENDIX 01 Baptism in An Oil Drum David Clark, learning some of this, had every right to visit the Philippines and assist his brother. Michael Clark now claimed to have also been “re-born” being baptized in 327

an oil drum in the prison yard. David Clark, before arriving, did make one concession to local fears.

Discussions dissuaded Albert Wilson from visiting with him, so one problem was out of the way. David Clark and Gordon Smith duly arrived and met with their Philippine hosts and coordinators, to begin a massive program of preaching not just in Bilibid prison, including to prisoners on Death Row, but also in various areas within reach of Manila, including the cities that used to host the huge U.S. bases, Angeles City and Olongapo City.

Magic or Miracles In these places, they not only preached in various nonconformist churches, but inside the jails. To the amazement of their local critics, they achieved an amazing success, especially in the prisons. Literally hundred of prisoners expressed that they wanted to learn more about the Gospel and themselves “be saved”. The religious will say this is a miracle. To the cynical, analysis tends to indicate just how big a failure the Catholic Church has been in the Philippines.

In the Philippines, well over 80 percent claim to be Catholic.

See article “An Honour and a Privilege” 29th April 2002.

Indeed, most will have been baptized in a Catholic Church. Yet as over 54 percent drop out of school in primary, and even those who go to Mass will only listen to the homily, most of them know very little about Christianity. The fact that two very ordinary men, not wearing the “magic” vestments of priesthood, relate in simple terms, stories and the meaning of what is in the Bible, must have a huge impact. For the first time in their lives, they understand what being a Christian really means.

Converted On LSD What makes it even better is that David Clark readily confesses to them that 30 years previous, he was an 328

incarcerated criminal, and that he discovered Jesus on an LSD trip. These men could, and did, relate to him. He was one of them, once. David’s book “Converted on LSD ” has just been published, which tells the whole story.

Manila Fire One of the saddest parts of their trip was that while in Olongapo City, they met with a very genuine couple with five children, Pastor Rev. Samuel C Vercina and his wife Jocelyn. The couple took them to a hill in nearby Bataan, the area forever recorded in history for the notorious “death march” during Japanese occupation. Here, David filmed the couple talking about their vision for the hill they had named, Prayer Mountain. Two days later, the couples were killed in a dreadful tragedy, one cause by the corruption in the Philippines. They had been, with scores of other Christians, staying the night in a small hotel in Quezon City, just north of Manila. Fire hit the hotel, which, against regulations had no fire alarms, fire-escape egress blocked with rubbish, etc. and they, together with nearly 80 others, suffocated in their sleep. This hit the British news on 12th August.

A Childrens Home Shalom Bata To their admitted surprise, the mission has had a twoway effect on both Clarke and Smith. Their mission was an attempt to inspire others into Christian living, yet a visit to Shalom Bata Rescue Centre in Merville Park reversed this and instead inspired them. Established by British bornagain Christians, Ernie and Shirley Fable and supported solely on donations raised by the couple in annual extensive tours of the U.K., The centre receives abandoned babies, cares for them and arranges for their adoption to families all over the world.

Currently there are 36 children, all below the age of 2-years in residence. Both Clark and Smith admit to 329

admiration and inspiration from this Christian couple who live Christianity rather than talk about it. They were saddened to learn that Ernie is himself now suffering from a sever illness, yet the couple still carry on, caring for the unfortunate and abandoned.

The critics have been silenced and instead applaud.

Both David Clarke and Gordon Smith carried out their mission with dignity and respect for the Philippine people, and in fact, had proved to be a credit to the British people.

Positive results have been achieved. They have suggested a scheme where prisoners can enter the ministry and preach in other prisons. This is under consideration. If their scheme is adopted and prevents recidivism, then their mission will indeed have been worthwhile.

Alan Atkins 11th September 2001 43

Opposition a Mark of Success Thu, 3 Jul 2003 04:09:11 +0100 (BST) From: “Alan Atkins” <alancatkins@yahoo.com> Subject: Re: the lady bird left !!!

To: “David Clarke” <nbpttc@yahoo.co.uk>

Dear David, It was with sadness that I read your letter to me listing the problems you have encountered in the Philippines.

Crab Mentality Cynical as I am, I genuinely believed in your intention to provide real assistance to Filipino prisoners in a manner that would enable them to enjoy a meaningful life upon release. To this end, you have worked very hard and the proof of your success is the fifty signatures and 330

active campaign against you. This is typical Filipino crab mentality. It is so called because if you watch crabs placed into a basket; inevitably one of them will climb the side to freedom. Unfortunately, as soon as that one crab nears the rim, the others will pull him back into the basket, thus none escape. This is a national characteristic. â&#x20AC;&#x153;If I cannot do it, then nobody else will either.â&#x20AC;?

Opposed to the Mission As is on record, I was against your Trojan Horse mission, especially as you intended to include Sunny Wilson, right from the start. Perhaps you can at last understand my objections to a bunch of naĂŻve Englishman stamping around the Philippines attempting to bring real Christianity to an unsavable, immoral people.

The Host Is Absent Cannot compete with the Catholic Church, The Host is absent The Filipino demands magic, not logic. Your immersion in water partly provided this, but you cannot compete with the Catholic Church who, by their icons, fluval ceremonies, parades of statues and fiestas have, over the centuries, learned how to gain dominance in the religion stakes. Filipinos are Catholic out of fear, not belief. Mass on Sunday allows them free rein to do as they like for the rest of the week. As one visiting Filipino wrote, communion is like witnessing pigs at the trough, and most leave before the host is returned. Any resemblance between Filipino Catholicism and Christianity is purely coincidental. The Church fully know that their flock are still animists, accept it, but keep them in line for the collection.

Incest A Real Problem As you fully know, the numbers of prisoners awaiting death for incest outnumber prisoners for similar offenses 331

anywhere else in the world, and these are the only ones that have been caught. How many others are out there?

Christians rape their own children?

The Philippines Is A Complex Country Upon arrival, the office towers, the mode of dress, the cars etc. make one believe that is a modern western-style country â&#x20AC;&#x201C; it is far from it! It is still a feudal society run by about 400 families that make up the oligarchy. The rest, and I include top management and government officials; suffer from a massive inferiority complex. You come from a country where any person of any color, can and do stand on a box and loudly label Queen Elizabeth a prostitute.

They do no get arrested. In the Philippines, every week, a foreigner is detained without trial for many months, and then deported, just for insulting a Filipino. You were lucky to escape. Some have been held for three years in Bicutan, where I believe you visited. Conditions there make Bilibid appear a paradise. Your mistake, David, was that you wanted to head the organization in the Philippines instead of being advisor and keeper of the funds. Filipinos just cannot tolerate that, so they set out to get you. You were being successful, and making them appear useless.

You are all good men trying to do what you believe God wants you to do. But God wants you to think as well.

For What Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Worth For what it is worth, I believe the charges against you are false. I confirm to Gordon or anybody, after being here for 20 years, that every Filipino will only tell the truth when they cannot think of a lie fast enough. I would ask Gordon, et al, to employ the wisdom God gave them and reconsider what I believe Is A Hasty Conclusion.

Stupidity Not Martyrdom To consider that you have readily confessed your sins 332

of the past, and I writing for all to see, so why would you be lying now? You are a victim of our good intentions overpowering your need in this country to walk slowly. You tried to achieve too much too soon and the result is you return to this country at considerable risk of being jailed.

You might consider this martyrdom. Me, I would consider it stupid.

I wish you well in your future endeavours. You have learned a valuable lesson that if carefully studied will ensure your success in the future. I admire your faith, cannot emulate it, but know that God will forgive me for using one of the talents He gave me, that of logical thinking and analysis.

Please keep in touch and give the others my regards.

Alan.

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44

Other Publications

1

Converted on LSD Trip Saved from Sin, Death and Hell Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert Ed. Foreword by Dr Philip Fleming MA. BA, Bch. FRCPsych. DPM

“Converted on LSD Trip”

This book, the personal testament of David Clarke, in an autobiographical style. It charts his life, which became one of criminality and drug taking though an experience in 1970 of finding God whilst under the influence of LSD. Cynics may say that this was just an effect of drugs, but it is clear that the experience changed his life. Later when in court facing charges he admitted to many other crimes and was fortunate in receiving three years conditional discharge and not a prison sentence.

Since then David has combined his work as a lecturer in electronics with his mission of spreading the word of God. This is a scrupulously honest book recording both the difficulties he has faced as well as the successes in his life since 1970. A continuing worry is the fat of his brother, currently serving a long prison sentence in a Philippine jail who himself has recently found God. “This is an inspiring story of a life that has been turned from crime to a positive account and may be of help to others who find them selves directionless and involved in 334

crime and drug misuse”.

Dr. Philip M. Fleming. MA. BA, Bch. FRCPsych.

DPM. Consultant Psychiatrist with special responsibility for drugs and alcohol services. Kingsway House is the base for these services in Portsmouth. May 2001 Publication Date: Feb 04 2015 ISBN/EAN13: 1505279038 / 9781505279030 Page Count: 288 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Biography & Autobiography / Religious

CreateSpace eStore: https://www.createspace.com/3706345

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1

Trojan Warriors

Setting Captives Free Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert. Ed. Mr Michael J Clarke

Trojan Warriors is a true story of two brothers, Michael and David Clarke, who are brought up in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, England. They became criminals in the 60â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s and were sent to prison for malicious wounding and carrying a fire arm without a license, in 1967.

They both turned from their lives of crimes in remarkable ways but some 25 years apart, and then they worked together helping other prison inmates, on their own roads of reformation.

David the younger brother became a Christian, after a bad experience on LSD, in 1970, and then went on to educate himself and then on to Higher Education. He became a baptist minister and taught electronics for over 20 years, in colleges of Higher and Further Education. Michael however remained untouched and continued his flamboyant life style ending up serving a 16 year prison sentence, in the Philippines, in 1996, where he died of tuberculosis in 2005.

When David heard the news of his brothers arrest on an ITN television news bulletin he felt compelled to wrote their story. And then when he heard of his own brothers 336

conversion from crime to Christ, after serving 5 year of his sentence, he published their story in his book, “Converted on LS Trip”, and directed a mission of help to the Philippines to assist his brother. This book tells the story of this mission.

They then worked together with many former notorious criminals, who were inmates in New Bilibid Prison, who too had become Christians and turned their lives around.

This help was to train them to become preachers of the gospel of Jesus Christ .

This book contains the 66 testimonies of some of these men who convicted former criminals, incarcerated in New Bilibid Prison. They are the, “Trojan Warriors”, who had turned their lives around and from crime to Christ. Twenty two of these testimonies are men who are on Death Row scheduled to be executed by lethal injection.

Revelation 12 verse 11: And they overcame him by the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony and they loved not their lives unto the death.

Publication Date: Feb 16 2015 ISBN/EAN13: 1508574987 / 9781508574989 Page Count: 446 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Religion / Christian Life / General

CreateSpace eStore:

https://www.createspace.com/5330596

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3

Bierton Strict and Particular Baptists

My Testimony and Confession Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert..

Ed.

This book tells the story and life of David Clarke in the form of an autobiography. It is no ordinary book in that David and his brother were both notorious criminals in the 60’s, living in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, where they were MODs. They were both sent to prison for carrying a fire arm without a license and malicious wounding. They were however both converted from crime to Christ after which they turned their lives around and from crime to Christ.

This story tells of David’s Conversion in 1970 and that of Michael, 1999 some 30 years later.

It tells of their time in HMP Canterbury Prison and David’s time in HMP Wormwood Scrubs and then Dover Borstal. It also tells of David’s criminal activity and the crimes he committed before his miraculous conversion from crime to Christ, during a bad experience on LSD, in 1970.

It tells how he became a Christian over night, how he learned to read in order to come to a fuller knowledge of the gospel. He learned to read through reading the bible and classical Christian literature.

338

He tells of the event that led to him making a confession to the police about 24 crimes he had committed since leaving Dover Borstal in 1968 and of the court case where he was not sentenced.

It tells of his life as a member of the Bierton Strict and Particular Baptist Church, which was a Gospel Standard cause, and how he was called by the Lord and sent by the church to preach the gospel.

David tells of the various difficulties that he faced once he discovered the many doctrinal errors amongst the various Christian groups he met and of the opposition that he experience when he sought to correct them. David recorded his experience and finding in his book “The Bierton Crisis” 1984 written to help others.

David’s tells how his brother Michael was untouched by his conversion and how he continued his flamboyant lifestyle ending up doing a 16 year prison sentence, in the Philippines, in 1996, where he died in 2005.

It tells how David’s educated himself and went on to Higher education, and graduated with a Certificate in Education and how he went on to teach Electronics, for over 20 years, in colleges of Higher and Further Education.

It tells how David felt compelled to write this story under the title, “Converted On LSD Trip”. once he got news of his brothers arrest, in the Philippines, via ITN Television news broadcast, in 1995. This book was published when he got news of his brothers conversion from crime to Christ in 1999, which was after serving 5 years of his 16 year sentence.

David tells how Michael too was converted through him reading C.S. Lewis’s book, “Mere Christianity”, and him being convinced that Jesus was the Christ the Son of the living God, after this it tells of David’s mission to the Philippines to bring help and assistance to Michael, in 2001 339

and of their joint venture in helping in the rehabilitation of many former convicted criminals, not only in New Bilibid Prison but other Jails in the Philippines.

This story is told in there book, “Trojan Warriors”, that contains the testimonies of 66 notorious criminals who too had turned there lives around, from crime to Christ, 22 of which testimonies are men on Death Row. David say he believes his story could be of great help to any one seeking to follow the Lord Jesus Publication Date: Mar 03 2015 ISBN/EAN13:1508408270 / 9781508408277 Page Count:372 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Biography & Autobiography / Religious CreateSpace eStore:

https://www.createspace.com/5290675

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4

The Bierton Crisis

A Testimony Of David Clarke Authored by David Clarke Cert. Ed.

The Bierton Crisis is the personal story of David Clarke a member of the Bierton Strict and Particular Baptist church. He was also the church secretary and minister sent by the church to preach the gospel in 1982.

The Bierton Church was formed in 1832 and was a Gospel Standard cause whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rules of membership are such that only the church can terminate ones membership.

This tells of a crisis that took place in the church in 1984, which led to some members withdrawing support.

David, the author, was one of the members who withdrew but the church did not terminate his membership as they wished him return.

This story tells in detail about those errors in doctrine and practices that had crept into the Bierton church and of the lengths taken to put matters right. David maintained and taught Particular Redemption and that the gospel was the rule of life for the believer and not the law of Moses as some church members maintained.

This story tells of the closure of the Bierton chapel when David was on mission work in the Philippines in December 341

2002 and when the remaining church members died. It tells how David was encouraged by the church overseer to return to Bierton and re-open the chapel.

On David’s return to the UK he learned a newly unelected set of trustees had take over the responsibility for the chapel and were seeking to sell it. The story tells how he was refused permission to re open or use the chapel and they sold it as a domestic dwelling, in 2006.

These trustees held doctrinal views that opposed the Bierton church and they denied David’s continued membership of the church in order to lay claim too and sell the chapel, using the money from the sale of the chapel for their own purposes.

David hopes that his testimony will promote the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, as set out in the doctrines of grace, especially Particular Redemption and the rule of life for the believer being the gospel of Christ, the royal law of liberty, and not the law of Moses as some reformed Calvinists teach, will be realized by the reader.

His desire is that any who are called to preach the gospel should examine their own standing and ensure that they can derive from scripture the doctrines and practices they teach and advance and that they can derived the truths they teach from scripture alone and not from the traditions of men or their opinions however well they may be thought of.

Publication Date: Feb 12 2015 ISBN/EAN13:1508465959 / 9781508465959 Page Count: 224 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size:5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Religion / Christian Theology / Apologetics

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5

Converted on LSD

After The Trip Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert. Ed.

This is the continuing story of David and Michael Clarke originally told in, “Converted on LSD Trip”.

It tells the story of two brothers, Michael and David Clarke, who grew up in Aylesbury in the 60’s. They were Mods but Michael spent two spells in Oxford Detention Centre and then Rochester Borstal, during which time David inherited his brothers Lambretta TV 175, in 1966.

It was then he lived in the light and fame of his brothers notoriety with the Aylesbury Mods.

On Michael’s release from Borstal they teamed up together and were soon sent to prison for malicious wounding and carrying a fire arm without a license. Michael was sent to Maidstone Prison and David to Dover Borstal.

On leaving Dover Borstal in 1968 Dave had a three year career of undetected crime until he was arrested but not by the police. He had a bad experience on LSD on the 16th January 1970 and called out to God for help. As a result he became Christian and turned from crime, overnight and went on the straight and narrow. His brother Michael however was unaffected and continued his flamboyant and 343

criminal life style and ended up in prison in the Philippines 25 years later serving a 16 year prison sentence.

David learned to read as he was virtually illiterate when he left school, educated himself, went on to Higher Education and became lecturer and taught electronics of over 20 years in colleges of Higher and Further Education.

He joined the Bierton Strict and Particular Baptist Church, became a baptist minister in 1982 and preached the gospel in many churches in England.

When David got news of his brothers conversion from crime to Christ in 1999, which was 5 years into his 16 year sentence he wrote his book Converted on LSD. He then went on a mission of help to the Philippines and assisted Michael story continues telling how they helped other notorious criminals on their road of reformation in New Bilibid Prison, which is the national penitentiary of the Philippines. This part of their story is told in their joint book Trojan Warriors that contains the Testimonies of 66 convicted criminals who too turned from crime to Christ.

This is an extended version of Converted on LSD Trip telling the good that has come out Michael and David’s work in seeking to prompt the gospel of Christ to prison inmates.

Publication Date: Feb 16 2015 ISBN/EAN13:1508701202 / 9781508701200 Page Count:262 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Biography & Autobiography / Religious

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6

Borstal Boys Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert. Ed. Edition: 1

“Borstal Boys” is a special edition of the author’s original title, “Converted on LSD” and written for prison inmates.

It tells the story of two brothers, Michael and David Clarke, who grew up in Aylesbury, in the 60’s. They were Mods but Michael spent two spells in Oxford Detention Center, referred to as the short sharp shock treatment, and then Rochester Borstal, during which time David inherited his brothers Lambretta scooter a T.V. 175, in 1966. It was then he lived in the light and fame of his brothers notoriety with the Aylesbury Mods.

On Michael’s release from Borstal in 1966 these brothers teamed up together and were soon sent to prison for malicious wounding and carrying a fire arm without a license. Michael was sent to Maidstone Prison and David to Dover Borstal.

On leaving Dover Borstal in 1968, Dave had a three year career of undetected crime until he was arrested but not by the police. He had a bad experience on LSD, on the 16th January, 1970 and called out to God for help. As a result 345

he became Christian and turned from crime overnight and went on the straight and narrow.

The story tells how David learned to read and educate himself, went on to Higher Education and became a Baptist minister and a Lecturer teaching electronics of over 20 years in colleges of higher and Further Education. His brother Michael however was unaffected and continued his flamboyant and criminal life style and ended up in prison in the Philippines 25 years later, serving a 16 year sentence.

The book tells how David was prompted to write his story in his book, “Converted on LSD Trip” when he got news of his brothers arrest and imprisonment in the Philippines, in 1995. It tells of his brothers conversion from crime to Christ, in 1999 and the work they did jointly to bring help to others.

It tells how these Borstal Boys, Michael and David Clarke, worked to asset and help many convicted criminals on their road to reformation. This part of the story is told in their joint book, “Trojan Warriors” that contains 66 testimonies of notorious convicted criminals in New Bilibid Prison, who had turned their lives around from crime to Christ, 22 of which were on Death Row scheduled to be executed by lethal injection.

Borstal Boys is a special edition written for prison inmates, 250 copies of which have been sent, at the request of prison chaplains, to 20 prisons in the UK and tells the good and the bad happenings of two brothers who turned the lives around and from crime to Christ.

The story is currently being written as a Punk Rock opera called “Borstal Boy”, scheduled to be performed in prisons.

Publication Date: Nov 29 2014 346

ISBN/EAN13: 150527883X / 9781505278835 Page Count: 264 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Biography & Autobiography / Religious CreateSpace eStore: https://www.createspace.com/5138049

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The Parousia

The Second Coming of Christ Authored by James Stuart Russell Foreword by David Clarke Cert. Ed.

A reformation - indeed - a revolution of sorts is taking place in modern evangelical Christianity. And while many who are joining in and helping promote this movement are not even aware of it, the book you hold in your hand has contributed greatly to initiating this new reformation. This “new” movement is sometimes called full preterism, (Also, and preferably by this writer, Covenant Eschatology). It is the belief that all Bible prophecy is fulfilled.

The famous evangelist Charles H. Spurgeon was deeply impressed with the scholarly, solid research in the book, although he did not accept the “final” conclusions reached

by Russell. In modern times, this work has, and continues to impress those who read it. The reason is simple, the New Testament is emphatic and unambiguous in positing Christ’s coming and the end of the age for the first century generation. To say this has troubled both scholars and laymen alike is an understatement of massive proportions.

This book first appeared in 1878 (anonymously), and again in 1887 with author attribution. The book was well known in scholarly circles primarily and attracted a good bit of attention, both positive and negative. The 348

public, however, seemed almost unaware of the stunning conclusions and the research supporting those conclusions, until or unless they read of Russell’s work in the footnotes of the commentaries.

Scholars have recognized and grappled with this imminence element, that is the stated nearness of the day of the Lord, seldom finding satisfactory answers. Scholars such as David Strauss accused Jesus of failure. Later, Bultmann said that every school boy knows that Jesus predicted his coming and the end of the world for his generation, and every school boy knows it did not happen. C.S. Lewis also could not resolve the apparent failed eschatology. Bertrand Russell rejected Christianity due to the failed eschatology as he perceived it - of Jesus and the Bible writers. As a result of these “skeptical” authors, modern Bible scholarship has followed in their path and Bible commentaries today almost casually assert the failure of the Bible writers - and Jesus - in their eschatological predictions.

This is where Russell’s work is of such importance.

While Russell was not totally consistent with his own arguments and conclusions, nonetheless, his work is of tremendous importance and laid the groundwork for the modern revolution known as the preterist movement.

Russell systematically addressed virtually every New Testament prediction of the eschaton. With incisive clarity and logical acumen, he sweeps aside the almost trite objections to the objective nature of the Biblical language of imminence. With excellent linguistic analysis, solid hermeneutic and powerful exegetical skills, Russell shows that there is no way to deny that Jesus and his followers not only believed in a first century, end of the age parousia, but, they taught it as divine truth claiming the inspiration of the Holy Spirit as their authority.

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Russell not only fully established the undeniable reality of the first century imminence of “the end,” he powerfully and carefully shares with the reader that “the end” that Jesus and the N.T. writers were anticipating was not the end of the time space continuum (end of the world). It was in fact, the end of the Old Covenant Age of Israel that arrived with the cataclysmic destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple in AD 70. Russell properly shows how the traditional church has so badly missed the incredible significance of the end of that Old Covenant Age. Russell’s work is a stunning rejection - and corrective -of what the “Orthodox” historical “Creedal” church has and continues to affirm. The reader may well find themselves wondering how the “divines” missed it so badly! Further, the reader will discover that Russell’s main arguments are an effective, valid and true assessment of Biblical eschatology.

And make no mistake, eschatology matters.

Publication Date: Feb 16 2015 ISBN/EAN13:1508659729 / 9781508659723 Page Count: 604 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Religion / Theology CreateSpace eStore: https://www.createspace.com/5342411

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Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Does The Lord Jesus Want Women To Rule As Elders In His Church ?

Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert..Ed.

This is a true story telling how David Clarke, the author, encountered opposition from the elders of a church, in England who were intent on appointing women as elders. David believed this was wrong and clearly going against the word of God. The New Testament forbids a woman from teaching and being appointed as an elder in a church, with good reason this is not chauvinism but the wisdom of God. It is hoped this book will be a help to many.

We live in a day of rank apostasy. That apostasy is not limited to the unbelieving world because much of it is accepted by the Christian world. David Clarke hits head on one of the tenets of the apostasy which has exploded internationally. A time like this had been prophesied by Isaiah. Isaiah 3:12 (KJV) As for my people, children are their oppressors, and women rule over them. O my people, they which lead thee cause thee to err, and destroy the way of thy paths. The tenet which David Clarke hits head on is the one of women preachers and women elders in the churches.

Isaiah states that women were ruling over the people of 351

God, when the men should have been in leadership roles.

The Scripture states that “they which lead thee cause thee to err.” In this book you will find a confrontation between elders and the word of God. When church leaders neglect the truths of Scripture and base everything they believe on as their “personal opinion”, then the paths have been destroyed for the Christian, as Isaiah teaches.

One of the outgrowths of the charismatic movement, is the teaching that women are just as qualified as men to be elders and pastors. This is not to say that women are lacking leadership qualities but the Bible is very clear that they are not to rule over men and are not to have rule in the churches. It is unfortunate that many feminized men in the church kowtow behind the concept that disallowing women rule in the churches is not showing them love. The reality is that being disobedient to the commands of Scripture is nothing more than rebellion against God. 1 Samuel 15:3 speaks about rebellion being as the sin of witchcraft. God has given specific instructions concerning the churches and their structure and who are we to claim that we know more than God. The deep apostasy which many churches have accepted is made visible in this book but not only churches, Bible colleges have also acquiesced to disobeying the Bible and have endorsed women rulers in the church. It is a shame that those who bring the truth are considered the troublemakers in the churches. Tell me, what kind of love do you show someone when you actually help them to be disobedient to God? Will they still love you when they are in hell paying for their sins of rebellion? It is time for Christian men to step up and be men. 1 Corinthians 16:13 (KJV) Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. This book needs to be in the library of all Christians to help 352

them oppose the incursion of women rulers in the church.

It is still not too late to bring about a repentance on the part of church leaders for allowing themselves to be swayed by false teaching. A strong church obeys God, a weak and dying one disobeys God, regardless of how many attend.

(This is the foreword by Dr. Ken Matto) Scion of Zion Internet Ministry www.scionofzion.com Publication Date: Feb 11 2015 ISBN/EAN13: 1508851069 / 9781508851066 Page Count: 96 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25â&#x20AC;? x 8â&#x20AC;?

Language:English Colour: Black and White Related Categories: Religion / Christian Church / Leadership.

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Borstal Boy

A Punk Rock Opera Authored by Mr David Clarke Cert.

Ed. Authored with Rebecca Stephanie Porter

Borstal Boy is a Punk Rock Opera telling the true story of Michael and David Clarke originally told in, “Converted on LSD Trip”.

It tells the story of two brothers, Michael and David Clarke, who grew up in Aylesbury in the 60’s. They were Mods but Michael spent two spells in Oxford Detention Centre and then Rochester Borstal, during which time David inherited his brothers Lambretta TV 175, in 1966.

It was then he lived in the light and fame of his brothers notoriety with the Aylesbury Mods.

On Michael’s release from Borstal they teamed up together and were soon sent to prison for malicious wounding and carrying a fire arm without a license. Michael was sent to Maidstone Prison and David to Dover Borstal.

On leaving Dover Borstal in 1968 Dave had a three year career of undetected crime until he was arrested but not by the police. He had a bad experience on LSD on the 16th January 1970 and called out to God for help. As a result he became Christian and turned from crime, overnight and went on the straight and narrow. His brother Michael 354

however was unaffected and continued his flamboyant and criminal life style and ended up in prison, in the Philippines 25 years later, serving a 16 year prison sentence.

David learned to read, as he was virtually illiterate when he left school, educated himself, went on to Higher Education and became lecturer and taught electronics of over 20 years, in colleges of Higher and Further Education.

He joined the Bierton Strict and Particular Baptist Church, became a baptist minister in 1982 and preached the gospel in many churches in England.

When David got news of his brothers conversion from crime to Christ in 1999, which was 5 years into his 16 year sentence he wrote his book Converted on LSD. He then went on a mission of help to the Philippines and assisted Michael. The story continues telling how they helped other notorious criminals on their road of reformation in New Bilibid Prison,which is the national penitentiary of the Philippines. This part of their story is told in their joint book Trojan Warriors that contains the Testimonies of 66 convicted criminals who too turned from crime to Christ.

This is an extended version of Converted on LSD Trip telling the good that has come out of Michael and David’s work in seeking to prompt the gospel of Christ to prison inmates.

Publication Date: Mar 25 2015 ISBN/EAN13: 1511444568 / 9781511444569 Page Count: 100 Binding Type: US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5.25” x 8” Language: English Colour :Black and White Related Categories: Performing Arts / Theatre / 355

Broadway & Musical Revue A Nice Cup of Tea

by Alan Atkins ISBN 971-92239-0-1 Sentenced To Death

by Alan Atkins A Book of Dreams Production ISBN 3-935508-00-X From Abshott Publications 11 Hayling Close Fareham Hampshire PO14 3AE www.TrojanHorseInternational.com

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