Magnificence Estrella Alfon

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192 The Lihhaan Anthalogy oJ Philippine Literature in English "How you talk. In this country, there's a cure for everything.,, "I guess we can't complain. We had it good here all the time. Most of the time, any tvay." "I wish, though, they had come. I could..." "Yes, they could have. They didnt have to see me, but I could have seen them. I have seen their pictures, but what do they really look like?" "Tony, they're beautiful, all of them, but especially the girls. Their complexion, their grace, their eyes, they were what we call talking eyes, they say things ro you. And the scenr of them!" There was a sigh from the room, soft, hardly like a sigh. A louder, graring sound, almost under his hands that had relaxed their hold, called his atention. The sound mirror had kept going, the tape was fast unravelling. "Oh, no!" he screamed, noricing that somehow, he had pushed rhe eraser. Frantically, he tried ro rewind and play back the sounds and the music, but lhere was nothing now but the dull creaking o[ rhe rape on rhe spool and meaningless sounds that somehow had not been erased, the thud of dancing feet, a quick clapping of hands, alien voices and words: in this country ... everything... all of them... talbing eyes ... and the scent... a fading away into nothingness, till about the end when there was a screaming, senseless kind of finale detached from the body of a song in the background, drums and sticks and the tolling of a bell. "Tony! Tony!" Fil cried, Iooking rowards the sick man's room, ,,I,ve lost them all." Biting his lips, Fil turned rowards the window, startled by the first light of dawn. He hadn't realized till rhen the long nighr was over. T h e Lililutttn Anth olog oJ Philippine Literature in English 193 Magnificence {,i IiSTRELLA D. ALFON .T.here was nothing to fear, for the nlan was always so gentle, so kind. At night I *h"r, the little girl and her brorher were bathed in the light of the big shaded bulb thar hu.,g orei the big study table in the downstairs hall, the man would pr-rock gently J., th" door, u.rd come in. He would stand for a while just beyond rhe poo"l of l'ight, his t'eet in the circle o[ illumination, the rest of him in shadow' I he little giriand her brother would look up at him where they sat at the big rable, rheti eyes bright in the bright light, and watch him come fully into the Iight, a dark iittle rnan wlth protuberant lips, his eyes glinting in thelight, but hls voice soft, his manner slow He would smell very faintly of sweat and pomade, but the children didn't mind although they did notice, for they waited for him cvery evening as rhey sar at their lerslo.rs like this. He'd throw his visored cap on the iable, anJ it would fall down with a soft plop, then he'd nod his head to say one was right, or shake it to say one was wrong' It waJnot always that he came' They could remember perhaps two weeks when he remarked to their mother that he had never seen two children looking so smart. The praise had made their mother look over them as they stood around listening to the goings-on at the meeting of the neighborhood association, of which tf,eir mother was president. Two children, one a girl o[ seven, and a boy o[ eight. They were both very tall for their age, and their legs were the long gangly tels of flne spirired colts. ihei. mother saw them with eyes that held pride, and th"en to pr.tiy glo* oyer rhe maternal gloating she exhibited,,she said to the ma.r, in answeito hls praise, But their homework' They're solazy with them' And the man said, I havl nothing to do in the evenings, let me help them. Mother nodded her head and said, If you want to bother yourself. And the thing rested there, and rhe man came in the evenings therefore, and he helped solve fractions for the boy, and write correct phrases in language for the little girl' ,lnthosedays,theragewasforpencils.Schoolchildrenalwayshaverages going at one time o. urroth".. Sometimes it is for paper butterflies that are held I., .Ii.rc, and whirr in the wind. The Japanese bazaars promoted a rage for those. Sometimes it is for little lead toys found in the folded waffles thatJapanese confection-makers had such light hands with. At this particular time, it was for pencils. Pencils big but light in circumference not smaller than a man's thumb. Th"y *."." unwieldy in a child's hands, but in all schools then, where Japanese

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Philippine Literature

Transcript of Magnificence Estrella Alfon

  • 192 The Lihhaan Anthalogy oJ Philippine Literature in English"How you talk. In this country, there's a cure for everything.,,"I guess we can't complain. We had it good here all the time. Most of the

    time, any tvay.""I wish, though, they had come. I could...""Yes, they could have. They didnt have to see me, but I could have seen

    them. I have seen their pictures, but what do they really look like?""Tony, they're beautiful, all of them, but especially the girls. Their complexion,

    their grace, their eyes, they were what we call talking eyes, they say things royou. And the scenr of them!"

    There was a sigh from the room, soft, hardly like a sigh. A louder, graringsound, almost under his hands that had relaxed their hold, called his atention.The sound mirror had kept going, the tape was fast unravelling.

    "Oh, no!" he screamed, noricing that somehow, he had pushed rhe eraser.

    Frantically, he tried ro rewind and play back the sounds and the music, butlhere was nothing now but the dull creaking o[ rhe rape on rhe spool andmeaningless sounds that somehow had not been erased, the thud of dancingfeet, a quick clapping of hands, alien voices and words: in this country ...everything... all of them... talbing eyes ... and the scent... a fading away intonothingness, till about the end when there was a screaming, senseless kind offinale detached from the body of a song in the background, drums and sticksand the tolling of a bell.

    "Tony! Tony!" Fil cried, Iooking rowards the sick man's room, ,,I,ve lostthem all."

    Biting his lips, Fil turned rowards the window, startled by the first light ofdawn. He hadn't realized till rhen the long nighr was over.

    T h e Lililutttn Anth olog oJ Philippine Literature in English 193

    Magnificence {,iIiSTRELLA D. ALFON

    .T.here was nothing to fear, for the nlan was always so gentle, so kind. At nightI *h"r, the little girl and her brorher were bathed in the light of the big shaded

    bulb thar hu.,g orei the big study table in the downstairs hall, the man wouldpr-rock gently J., th" door, u.rd come in. He would stand for a while just beyondrhe poo"l of l'ight, his t'eet in the circle o[ illumination, the rest of him in shadow'I he little giriand her brother would look up at him where they sat at the bigrable, rheti eyes bright in the bright light, and watch him come fully into theIight, a dark iittle rnan wlth protuberant lips, his eyes glinting in thelight, buthls voice soft, his manner slow He would smell very faintly of sweat and pomade,but the children didn't mind although they did notice, for they waited for himcvery evening as rhey sar at their lerslo.rs like this. He'd throw his visored cap onthe iable, anJ it would fall down with a soft plop, then he'd nod his head to sayone was right, or shake it to say one was wrong'

    It waJnot always that he came' They could remember perhaps two weekswhen he remarked to their mother that he had never seen two children lookingso smart. The praise had made their mother look over them as they stood aroundlistening to the goings-on at the meeting of the neighborhood association, ofwhich tf,eir mother was president. Two children, one a girl o[ seven, and a boy o[eight. They were both very tall for their age, and their legs were the long ganglytels of flne spirired colts. ihei. mother saw them with eyes that held pride, andth"en to pr.tiy glo* oyer rhe maternal gloating she exhibited,,she said to thema.r, in answeito hls praise, But their homework' They're solazy with them'And the man said, I havl nothing to do in the evenings, let me help them. Mothernodded her head and said, If you want to bother yourself. And the thing restedthere, and rhe man came in the evenings therefore, and he helped solve fractionsfor the boy, and write correct phrases in language for the little girl'

    ,lnthosedays,theragewasforpencils.Schoolchildrenalwayshaveragesgoing at one time o. urroth".. Sometimes it is for paper butterflies that are heldI., .Ii.rc, and whirr in the wind. The Japanese bazaars promoted a rage forthose. Sometimes it is for little lead toys found in the folded waffles thatJapaneseconfection-makers had such light hands with. At this particular time, it was forpencils. Pencils big but light in circumference not smaller than a man's thumb.Th"y *."." unwieldy in a child's hands, but in all schools then, where Japanese

  • I94 Thc Lihhaan Anthology oj Philippitt: Literatun: in [nglish

    bazaars ciustered there were all colors of these pencils selling flor very low, burunattainable to a child budgeted ar abaon of a cenravo a day. They were all of fivecentavos each, and one pencil was not at all what one had ambitions for. Inrages, one kept a collection. Four or five pencils, of different colors, to tie withstrings near the eraser end, to dangle from one's book-basket, to arouse the envyo[ the other children who probably possessed less.

    Add to the man's gentleness his kindness in knowing a childs desires, hispromise that he would give each of them not one pencil but two. And for thelittle girl who he said was very bright and deserved more, he would get rhebiggest pencil he could find.

    One evening he did bring them. The evenings of waiting had made themlook forward to this final giving, and when they got the pencils they whoopedwith joy. The little boy had two pencils, one green, one blue. And the little girlhad three pencils, two o[ the same circumflerence as the little boys but coloredred and yellow. And the third pencil, a jumbo size pencil really, was white, andhad been sharpened, and the little girl jumped up and down, and shouted withglee. Until their mother called from down the stairs. What are you shoutingabout? And they told her, shouting gladly, Vicente, for thar was his name. Vicenrehad brought the pencils he had promised them.

    Thank him, their mother called. The little boy smiled and said, Thank you.And the little girl smiled, and said, Thank you, roo. Bur the man said, Are younot going to kiss me for those pencils? They both came forward, the little girland the little boy, and they both made to kiss him but Vicenre slapped the boysmartly on his lean hips, and said, Boys do not kiss boys. And the little boyIaughed and scampered away, and then ran back and kissed him anyway.

    The little girl went up ro the man shyly, pur her arms about his neck as hecrouched to receive her embrace, and kissed him on the cheeks.

    The man's arms tightened suddenly about the little girl until the little girlsquirmed out o[his arms, and laughed a little breathlessly, disturbed but innocent,looking at the man with a smiling little question of puzzlement.

    The next evening, he came around again. All through that day, they hadbeen very proud in school showing off their brand new pencils. All the little girlsand boys had been envying them. And their mother had finally to tell them tostop talking about the perrcils, pencils, for now that they had, the boy two, andthe girl three, they were asking their mother to buy more, so that they couldeach have five, and three at least in the jumbo size that the little girl's third pencilwas. Their mother said, Oh stop it, what will you do with so many pencils, youcan only write with one at a time.

    And the little girl murtered under her breath, I'll ask Vicente for somemore.

    Their mother replied, He's only a bus conductor, don't ask him for too manythings. It's a pity. And this observarion their mother said to their father, who was

    'I-lrr' I-ilrhrtrtn Arrthrrlo.qy oJ Philippinc Literaturt in English 195

    r',rtrng his cvcning meal between paragraphs o[ the book on masonry rites thatlre was rcacling. lt is a pity, said their mother, people like those, they make friendsu,ith people like us, and they feel it is nice to give us gifts, or the children toys.rrrtl things. You'd think they wouldn't be able to afford it.

    The fathe r grunted, and said, The man probably needed a new job, and wass,rl'te ning his way tl-rrough to him by going at the children like that. And thernother said, No, I donlt think scl, he's a rather queer young man, I think hetlocsn't have many friends, but I have watched him with the children, and he\ce rns [o dote on them.

    Tl-re father grunted again, and did not pay any further attention.Vicente was earlier than usual that evening. The children immediately put

    tlicir lessons clown, telling him of the envy o[ their schoolmates, and would hebuy them more please?

    Vicente said to the little boy, Go and ask i[ you can let me have a glass ofwater. And the little boy ran away to comply, saying behind him, But buy ussome more pencils, huh, buy us more pencils, and then went up the stairs totlreir nrother.

    Vicente held the little girl by the arm, and said gently, Of course I will buyyoll more pencils, as many as you want.

    And the little girl giggled and said, Oh, then I will tell my friends, and theywill envy me, for they don". have as many or as pretty.

    Vicente took the girl up lightly in his arms, holding her under the armpits,and held her to sit down on his lap and he said, still gently, What are your lessonsfor tomorrow? And the little girl turned to the paper on the table where she hadbeen writing with the jumbo pencil, and she told him that that was her lessonbut it was easy.

    Then go ahead and write, and I will watch you.Don't hold me on your lap, said the little girl, I am very heavy, you will get

    very tired.The man shook his head, and said nothing, but held her on his lap just the

    same.

    The little girl kept squirming, for somehow she felt uncomfortable to beheld thus, her mother and father always treated her like a big girl, she was alwaystold never to act like a baby. She looked around at Vicente, interrupting hercareful writing to twist around.

    His face was all in sweat, and his eyes looked very strange, and he indicatedto her that she must turn around, attend to the homework she was writing.

    But the little girl felt very queer, she didn't know why, all of a sudden shewas immensely frightened, and she jumped up away from Vicente's lap.

    She stood looking at him, feeling that queer frightened feeling, not knowingwhat to do. By and by, in a very short while her mother came down the stairs,holding in her hand a glass of zarzaparilla. The little boy followed her. The mothersaid, I brought you some zarzaparilla, Vicente.

  • 196 T.he Lilzhaan Anthologlt oJ philippinc Lilerature in [nglishBut vicente had jumped up roo as soon as rhe linle girl had jumped flrom his

    lap. He snatched ar rhe papers that lay on rhe rable and held them to his stomach,turning away from the mother's coming.

    The mother looked at him, sropped in her tracks, and advanced intothe light. she had been in'the shadow Her voice had been like a bell ofsafety to the little girl. But now she advanced into the glare o[ the light thatheld like a tableau the figures o[ vicente holding the little girl's papers tohim, and the Iittle girl looking up at him frightenedly, in her eyes dark poolsof wonder and fear and question.

    The little girl looked at her morher, and saw the beloved face transfiguredby some sort of glow. The mother kept coming into the lighr, and when vicentemade as if to move away into the shadow, she said, very low, but very heavily, Donot move.

    she put the glass of soft drink down on rhe table, where in rhe light onecould watch the little bubbles go up and down in the dark liquid. The mothersaid to the little boy, oscar, finish your lessons. And then turning to the littlegirl, she said, come here. The little girl wenr to her, and the mother knelt clown,for she was a tall woman and she said, Tirrn around. obediently the little girlturned around, and her morher passed her hands over rhe little gir|s back.

    Go upstairs, she said.The mother's voice was of such a heavy quality and of such awfur timbre

    that the girl could only nod her head, and without looking at vicente again, sheraced up the stairs. The little boy bent over his lessons.

    The mother went to the cowering man, and marched him with a glance outof the circle of light that held the liule boy. once in the shadow, she extended herhand, and withour any opposition took away the papers that Vicente was holdingto himself. she stood there saying nothing as the man fumbled with his handsand with his fingers, and she waited until he had finished. she was going ro openher mouth but she glanced at the boy and closed it, and with a look and aninclination of the head, she bade Vicente go up the stairs.

    The man said nothing, for she said nothing either. Up the stairs went theman, and the mother followed him behind. when they had reached the upperlanding, the woman called down to her son, Son, come up and go to your rrom.

    The little boy did as he was told, asking no quesrions, for indeed he wasfeeling sleepy already.

    As soon as the boy was gone, the mother turned on vicente. There was a pause.Finally, the woman raised her hand, and slapped him full hard in the

    face. He retrear.ed down one tread of the stairs with the force of the blow,but the mother followed him. with her other hand she slapped him on rheother side of the face again. And so down the stairs they went, the manbackwards, his face continually open ro the force of the woman's slapping.Alternately she lifted her right hand and made him retrear before her untilthey reached the bottom landing.

    Tlrc Lihlman Anthology oJ Philippnrc Literature in English 197

    He made no resisrance, offered no defense. Before the silence and the grimness,,1' her attack he cowered, retreating, until out of his mouth issued somethinglrl