Firewood

Chapter 2

Thinking those thoughts and feeling the hurt caused Armando to sleep where he was sitting. On his deep sleep, he felt someone was tapping his back. He woke up. It was his son Alfred. The sun was setting and it was beginning to be dark. He realized he has been sitting under that mango tree for the whole day already.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to stretch but stopped when he felt the pain of the swollen wounds on his chest and arms.

Carefully placing his arms to his lap, he asked his son, “What are you doing here? You should be resting in the house now. Go, you’re still weak”.

“Papa”, said his son, “let’s go home; you haven’t eaten since dinner last night”.

“No, I’m fine”, he hesitated. “Just leave me here; I want to think and be alone”.

“But Papa…”

“Just leave me here!”

Alfred didn’t say anything more. He felt exactly how his father was feeling. The dreadful event yesterday was still fresh to them. He looked his father – still wearing the same clothes with stains of blood, torn shirt and pants, no slippers. He cried upon seeing these, but he looked backwards just to hide the tears from his father.

After wiping his tears and gaining enough courage, he breathed deeply and sat beside his father.

“Papa, Mayor Salcedo said we should bury Mama tomorrow before sunset. Even though Tiyo Fabian requested if we could do a funeral wake for three days more before we burry Mama, Mayor still refused and demanded for an immediate burial tomorrow”, he recounted. “What shall we do Papa?”

Those words caused Armando’s feelings be awakened again. He stood up and with a loud voice, still cracking, said “Those brutes! How can they do this to their own people? We were also victims here and should also be treated like a normal Filipino. We need their protection but they are treating us like criminals.”

The thought of his wife helping the three wounded Japanese soldiers came to his mind again. Upon thinking this, his temper calmed down then he sat again and with a low voice said, “Your mother only helped the needy; tell me, do we really deserve this?” And he cried again.

Alfred, who was still at Armando’s side, embraced him until he slept. When Alfred saw that his father was already sleeping, he carefully put its arms at his shoulder and walked slowly towards their house.