Looking Back(chapter 8)
Romano could no longer watch the horrible scene happening before his eyes. Spain. Tomato. Butcher Knife. Dead-pan expression. Yeah.
Romano swiftly took the butcher knife from Spain’s hand and held it as far away as possible. Spain just continued moving his hand as if the knife was still in it. Romano has had enough.
“Damn it, Spain!!! What the hell’s wrong with you?!? You’re fucking murdering the tomatoes, for Christ’s sake, you almost cut off your own hand!!! Snap out of it would you, goddamnit!!” he screamed, grabbing the Spaniard by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. He had the urge to punch the bastard when he still looked dead to the world around him.
And of course, not one to hesitate to punch someone, especially Spain when needed, he did give him a knuckle punch that sent the Spaniard to the floor. Damn, making him worry, though he’ll die before he admits that even to himself, and not telling him the reason why he’s acting like this. Romano let out an inaudible sigh of relief when Spain seemed to snap out of his thoughts and turn to look at him with almost the same carefree look he had whenever Romano visits him.
“Lovi~! When did you get here?”
Okay, Romano was seriously pissed now. He shouldn’t even be worrying for this idiotic bastard when said bastard doesn’t even notice he was there at all. How long had it been since he went to Spain’s house to visit him when he heard he had gone back after going to some other goddamn nation’s house? Twenty minutes! He had been standing less than five feet away from him for a whole twenty minutes and Spain did not even notice him there when normally, Spain could sense him coming a kilometer away from his house, he had no idea how, and run like an idiot to meet him! No wonder he did not even get as much as a greeting or some other stupid crap he’d spout whenever they see each other. Something was definitely bothering the Spaniard and Romano wants to get to the bottom of it, without admitting that he’s actually just worried.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why weren’t you at the door?”
“I already gave you the spare key ages ago. You always get angry when I don’t get to the door fast enough.”
“The door’s left wide open, idiota! Your house is a mess! And you’re, you’re-God! What the fuck are you thinking, butchering a tomato in your bathroom sink?!?”
And that was when Antonio fully had a grasp of his surroundings. He was sitting on the bathroom floor, his hands drenched in red tomato juice and Romano glaring down at him, holding an equally drenched butcher knife in his hands. “Oh! Really? I didn’t notice…but I’m so happy you’re here, Lovi~!” he stood up and proceeded to ruffle the fuming man’s hair.
Romano’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He already had half a mind to drown the Spaniard in the bathtub and he just had to ruin his hair with that dirty hand of his, even if it is tomato juice, he won’t forgive that. Romano forcibly removed the Spaniard’s hand from his hair and gave him the deadliest glare he could muster but the bastard just continued smiling at him as usual. He’s making it seem like just one of his typical blunders. Romano’s not buying any of it. That smile that hides something from him, he hates it. Spain was never deterred by anything that happens to him, no matter how bad, he was never driven to a state such as the one Romano had just seen him in minutes ago. Whatever managed to bother the Spaniard could be nothing less than the end of the world. So Romano had to know what it could be since obviously, the world wasn’t ending yet and he wasn’t too sure if Spain would really be bothered by the world ending.
“Now that you’re here, I’ll start making lunch.” Antonio said, making his way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.
Romano was about ready to burst out yelling now but he contained it, not just yet. “Lunch? It’s already way past supper time, you asshole. Seriously, how long were you doing that there?”
Spain was surprised. He glanced outside the kitchen window and saw the moon up in the sky, then he turned look at Romano who was pouting cutely at him, but evidently pissed. Spain scratched the back of his head nervously, “Haha! I guess time really went past me today! I was so sure I was planning on making pizza for lunch some time ago.”
He’s been there since lunchtime?!? Okay, Romano really wants to know what the hell’s upsetting the otherwise carefree Spanish who’s now rummaging in the cupboards.
“What in the world fucking went off with you?!?”
“We could have spaghetti, chorizo, tortilla-...”
And because Spain makes it clear that he’s not divulging anything anytime soon, Romano had to force it out of him now before he drives them both crazy. So he grabbed Antonio by the collar and pushed him against the counter. Spain closed his eyes, as if expecting Romano to deck him again but opened his eyes again when nothing happened and Romano just held him there, glaring at him.
“You’re acting weird, Lovi~.”
“No! You’re acting weird, at least, weirder than usual. Now, you’re going to tell me what the hell’s bothering you or I swear I’ll never visit you ever again.” He threatened, no matter how empty it sounded. Going to Spain’s house was almost a religion to him, something he did out of just wanting to. A horrified look crossed Spain’s face at the prospect of never seeing Romano again, though life would surely be easier if he didn’t. He always looked forward to the Italian’s visit. Probably because of all the nations who had broken away from him, Romano was the only one who eventually came back to see how he’s faring. No matter how much it hurts for him…literally most of the time.
“I-I can’t.” Spain quickly clamped his hand over his mouth after realizing what he just said. He did not just say that to Romano. And seeing the surprised look Romano sported now, he didn’t expect it either. “Sorry. What I meant was-,”
“You…bastard. You’re just waiting for me to bomb myself, aren’t you? Well, have it your way then, I can’t believe I was worried over someone like you.” Romano released him and promptly walked out of the kitchen.
But before he could even get his coat from the hanger, Spain was already at the front door, shutting it close. “Alright, I’ll tell you! Just calm down, okay?!? I don’t know where to even start!”
Romano looked at him skeptically, foot tapping the wooden floor and arms folded, as if trying to catch Antonio the moment he tries to lie. “Go on then. I’m waiting.”
Keeping his slight surprise at Romano being so easy to persuade to listen, Spain cleared his throat as he thought of where to begin divulging his problem. “It’s about Clara. You know…my daughter.”
Romano nodded. Of course he knew about her, she’s the apple of the eye of the flustered man in front of him. Everyone in Europe has practically known of the Spaniard’s well-beloved daughter when Spain came back to Europe this one time roaring for England’s blood when the latter was reported to have sneaked an attack on Spain’s daughter during the Seven Years War. It would have escalated to another war if not for both of their worn-out states (and dried-out wallets) and the effects of the Treaty of Paris that ended the previous war. But everyone got the message to not mess with Spain’s daughter from then on or risk having to fend off a berserk Spaniard wielding a Toledo sword breaking into their homes at two in the morning, like Arthur had the misfortune of experiencing.
Well, aside from that scandal, Spain never ran out of stories about her, almost to the point where Romano felt like he had gone through her whole life three times already. Spain had never adored any of his colonies this much, probably because she was the only girl in his ‘family’. His unica hija. The beautiful brown-skinned girl sitting in Spain’s lap on the second largest portrait in the house (the largest was with him as a child being carried by Spain in his matador outfit). And with the way she smiled in there that clearly showed that she adored Spain as much as he adored her, what could possibly go wrong in their otherwise perfect father-daughter relationship?
“So? What’s with her now?”
“…”
“One.”
“Wait! I’m already telling you, aren’t I?! Don’t pressure me! This is already hard enough for me!”
“Two.”
“She killed herself.”
“…”
“She jumped into a raging river before I could stop her.” Antonio reflexively looked up when he felt pinpricks of tears starting to blur his vision.
Romano’s arms fell limply to his side as he gaped at the Spaniard. Looking upwards did not stop the tears that fell from Antonio’s eyes as he wiped at them furiously with his sleeves. And Romano knew he shouldn’t push it further but it somehow still slipped from his lips. “Why?”
Spain stopped even trying to wipe away the tears and pressed his palms into his face. “I DON’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW!!! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL SHE’S EVEN THINKING AT THAT TIME!!! SHIT!!! I COULD HAVE SAVED HER!!”
Romano regretted forcing Spain to tell. Why can’t he just leave him be when Spain clearly wanted to let the matter rest? Besides, it was something he, Romano, should not concern himself with, seeing that he was now independent from Spain.
“Are you really sure she’s…you know…gone?”
Spain ran his hand through his hair in frustration as if he’s trying to recollect his thoughts, “N-no. But she’s completely gone. There wasn’t any trace of her resurfacing somewhere, there wasn’t even anything left of her! Shit! It’s all my fault! I should have spent more time with her!”
“Did she do something wrong?” Romano was now curious, maybe there was something more to it. She can’t possibly commit suicide just because Spain neglected her when Spain could say he’s almost close enough to save her.
Spain’s knees gives out on him and he slides to the floor, his back resting on the front door. He folded one of his knees and rested his arm on it as his other arm continued to run through his hair in an effort to calm himself. Romano just stood in front of him, his anger dissipated as he looked down at the mighty Spanish empire crying for his lost daughter.
“She instigated a mutiny but the Governor caught her and the rebellion fell apart. She was locked up in her room until I could see to her but when I arrived…she…she just…she chose death over me!”
Romano knew that wasn’t the case. It was only natural for a colony to yearn for the freedom that was once theirs. Romano had experienced that. Even he had the audacity to break away from the wreck of a man in front of him. But Spain loved Clara too much he forgot the fact that she was never his to begin with. He overlooked her intention and fretted over her feelings.
“Before she became your daughter, she’s your colony, Spain. And I’m sure whatever changed her isn’t something you’ve done yourself.” Maybe Romano wasn’t really good at comforting people but he could be good at pinning mistakes on other people. But he just had to try.
“No, it’s my fault! I’ve been such a lousy father to her. I knew she needs me and yet I always leave her alone. I killed her people without even knowing what my own people have done for them to deserve it. We’ve been together for three hundred years. I can’t even begin to imagine just how much that child must have hated me for it.”
Romano clenched his fists at his sides. Spain said it! Now Romano was sure Spain shouldn’t berate himself for the incident. It wasn’t any of his own fault. Why can’t he see that? Per l’amor di dio, he’s so stupid!
“Do you really love her that much?” Romano’s somehow annoyed at that idea for some reason he couldn’t fathom.
“I love that kid so much…she’s so special…I would have given her anything in the world if she so much as wished it.”
“Will it still be the same if she asked you for independence, Antonio?”
Spain closed his eyes, “…I’d give her anything…anything at all.”
But Spain, Romano wanted to say but decided against it, that wasn’t the answer to my question.
March 24,1876
Your god-forsaken house in Hongkong, you bastard, I’m leaving!
Dear Sir Arthur Kirkland (Haha! But you kind of deserve it),
As for your instructions that I should stay here rather than risk getting found out, well, I’m glad to say I’d rather risk it. I’m very thankful that you’d let me stay in your house in exchange for babysitting your cute little Hongkong for you when you’re away (like right now) and you’re probably back home in your homeland (I terribly miss mine) or somewhere in your colonies (if you hurt my brothers, I won’t forgive you!).
But I really need to go now. Thank you so much. I’ll make this up to you someday.
Oh wait, you must be wondering why, after four years did I just decide to leave now. That is, I don’t know how to say this, every time I think about it, it sounds like I’m eloping (how funny that would be!). Last week I found this group of Filipino settlers in here and they seem to be the ones that had been exiled from my country some years back. They’re planning to go to Madrid to help their brethren demand for some reforms back home. This is it, what I’ve been waiting for.
And before you tear this up (or burn it, whichever you prefer), I want to say that I’m aware that Madrid is Spain’s capital!!! (I know you’re cursing me now, stop it please!) So I won’t be surprised if I see him there (is it too silly to hope that he’s not angry at me?) but he might be surprised if he sees me there.
I’ll miss you, Arthur.
P.S. America is watching me when I wrote this so I really can’t get serious enough especially when he keeps on saying something funny every now and then. He’s such an amusing guy!
P.S.S. England, no matter how much of an insensitive jerk you pretended to be, I know you’re really worried about me (don’t deny it, I’m more capable than what you give me credit for!), I’d keep sending you letters from time to time so you’ll know I’m still breathing somewhere. I’ll really miss you, let’s meet again someday!
April 17, 1876
Berlin, Germany
Dear Alfred,
Thank you so much for seeing me off in Hongkong. You told me to send you letters too, so here it is. I know the last time I’ve seen you were less than a month ago, but I don’t know, it isn’t as fun exploring when you’re not here. But don’t misunderstand that, I’m still able to smile here so everything’s fine.
And if you’re wondering why I’m in Berlin, well, I kind of changed my mind about that trip to Madrid part and just went with some few who headed to Berlin. There are many Filipinos here too! I’m so glad they’re doing really well in a foreign land!
But nothing beat the part that they never forgot about their native country. Imagine their surprise when I introduced myself! They were more enthusiastic than ever to alleviate the condition of their motherland! I felt proud of myself for the first time when they called me ‘motherland’…do you feel elated too when your people call you ‘fatherland’? I do. It brings me happiness of unparalleled proportions.
I’ll write again when something happens.
P.S. When I checked, I almost wrote the exact same letter to Arthur! Haha, but the first part was different.
August 1, 1882
Barcelona, Spain
Bloody punk, stop killing me!
I saw America last week in Paris, and he told me what you have been doing! You bastard! If you don’t cover up that grave, I’ll kick you where it hurts the most! Seriously, if you’re expecting to hear that I’m floating dead somewhere, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still standing on the ground, as alive as when I left you. The moment I come back to Hongkong and you haven’t demolished that grave yet, I’m going to bury you alive in it, understand? Geez, you didn’t even put my grave under a gorgeous tree, why on your flower bed? You just want me to be fertilizer, do you?
I was going to write about some great experience I just had and tell you how I managed to finally get close enough to Spain, I’m in Barcelona!, but I hate you so much now, I lost the excitement.
P.S. I’m going to Madrid tomorrow with the Filipino family I stayed with in Berlin. Remember to clean up the grave!
July 20, 1883
Madrid, Spain
Arthur, how are you doing?
Antonio almost caught me earlier! I didn’t know he was attending church there! But thank God, the church was too big and crowded. I managed to lose him in the throngs of people leaving the church. I swear I almost had a heart attack!
Now I’m too afraid to go out anymore, and I heard Antonio was rounding up all the Filipinos here. They’re taking me out of here tomorrow morning via train heading to Paris. I’m not coming back here for a while. It’s so scary.
But I wonder…Antonio did not look as angry as I thought. I can’t explain the look on his face when he chased me frantically. He looked so desperate. I don’t know. I can’t understand anything right now.
I’m a coward. Everything I do is just running away. I hate being weak.
When you receive this, I’m probably already in Paris, France at that time.
August 12, 1883
Paris, France
Hello, Arthur. I hope you’re doing well. Same to Hongkong.
I’m back again in Paris and I met two interesting people today. One is purely French and the other is a Filipino.
I bet you know the French guy. You were fighting a war with him when I met you. His name is Francis Bonnefoy. I met him when I was looking at paintings in one of the museums here I find hard to pronounce the name, much less spell. He’s such a charming gentleman…once he learns to keep his hands and mouth to himself, that is. I told him about you, and guess what, he told me some rather disheartening facts about you. I didn’t know, England…sheesh…I had no idea you could be capable of stuff like that…but don’t worry, I’d still respect you. As for Francis, he’s got some interesting history, too. I did not dare mention Padre, and told him my name is Ma’i. He knew I was a country at first glance, he looked like he’s gonna eat me as he said he hasn’t heard of me yet.
Let’s go over to the Filipino now. He’s a student in Madrid and he’s just here in Paris for summer vacation. He’s so adorable! I met him when he was invited to dinner by the family I’m staying with. He’s so intelligent! He kept amusing me with funny anecdotes and stories he made himself. He wrote me a poem too! He’s so sweet! And what’s the most amazing part about him? Remember when you made me tell you what happened in Manila? How a boy told me Padre Burgos was going to be executed? He was that same boy!
And I almost cried when he said he studied in Spain so that he could keep his promise that he’d study hard so he could be of help to my people. It’s almost ten years ago since I made him promise that, but…he never forgot! I’m so thrilled! He never forgot me! But…I can’t help but feel how much I must have burdened him as a boy.
P.S I forgot to mention, his name is Jose Rizal.
July 4, 1886
Berlin, Germany
Happy Birthday, Alfred!
Sorry, this probably would have had more meaning if you received this on your birthday rather than one month later, but nevertheless, I congratulate you on this momentous day in your life as a nation. Have an awesome happy birthday! I hope someday, I’ll get mine too!
I’m back in Berlin again, and I’m doing great! I learned lots of things along the way and I met dozens of interesting people. I’m mostly traveling alone now, but I meet friendly people every now and then. I may go back to the Philippines soon. But I think I want to try going back to Madrid first because the majority of my reformists are there.
I know I see you at least thrice a year because for some reason you always appear before me in the most unlikely places but I hope to see you soon again!
February 17, 1888
I invaded your house again, England
I just had a quick visit while I’m waiting for Rizal to come here from Manila. He asked me to accompany him in his travels for a while. Hongkong’s in his teenage years now! You’ve taken good care of him! Very good! And he’s still so adorable, I thought he’d be such a brash young man if he’s exposed to you for such a long time.
I see you got my letter about the grave you dug for me years ago. It’s gone now…but I saw this weird black doll with my name on it hidden in your bedside table…are you cursing me?
Well, I’m just leaving this letter in your bed along with a translated copy of Noli Me Tangere since there’s no point in mailing it to this house. When you find this, I’ve already left for Japan. Read the book! It’s a pity I didn’t get to see you, but I’m sure you’re fine. Until we’re unfortunate enough to be in the same place, see you!
P.S. I accidentally lit a bonfire on your creepy black doll. Hongkong and I had a great time roasting marshmallows with it.
March 24, 1888
Yokohama, Japan
Dear Alfred,
I personally handcrafted this souvenir card so be careful in reading it!
Rizal told me he plans to go to America next month, and he invited to me to accompany him again. I finally get to see your country! I’m so excited I can’t wait!
Japan is a nice country, it’s so peaceful here. And I also enjoy the culture here very much. Have you tasted the food here? It’s so delicious!
Rizal envisioned that in the future, I would have more contact and relations with Japan. I said, when that day comes, I’d be more than happy to be this country’s friend!
That’s all, see you next month!
September 12, 1888
London, you know where
Dear Alfred,
Because you told me to send you a letter if I made it safely to England, I’m writing you this now. And you know what, you’re right. It’s rainy here. I have yet to see the sun shine in the sky since I came here two days ago. No wonder England is such a busybody.
I haven’t thanked you enough for showing me some great places in your country! I’m sorry my visit was cut short but once I win my independence, I’ll take you personally to my own country!
Thank you for sharing your past with England with me. Seeing you and England like that, I didn’t even have a clue on what you two had been through. I know I should have told you this before I left, but I’m happy to see that you are close friends with England now. Arthur being Arthur, I know he sulked for whatever happened between you for a long time and I can’t say I understand Arthur’s feelings. I’m in the same predicament now as you were back then. I’m aware I have hurt Antonio’s feelings when I ran away. But seeing how you and England are now makes me want to look forward to the day when I’m able to laugh freely with my Padre again. There’s no greater joy for me than being his daughter in our existence where there is no real family. I’ll patiently wait for that peaceful day to come, until then I’ll try my best to prove to him that I could already stand on my own.
For all that you’ve taught me, I’m thankful I met someone like you.
December 13, 1888
Madrid, Spain
Dear Arthur,
Like you told me to, I’ve been extra careful today when walking the streets of Madrid and fortunately, I haven’t walked into Antonio yet or seen any piece of him for that matter. You haven’t changed much when I last saw you at your place, nice palace you’ve got there! I’d come over to play again when I have the chance. You make bountiful rains seem like a blessed event.
Earlier this evening, there was a gathering of Filipinos in the house I’m staying at. They make me proud I have people like them here. They sacrifice their time and work just to go here and help me. They reached a compromise today and they formed a reformist movement called La Solidaridad. They aim for equality, freedom and representation of Filipinos to the Spanish courts since apparently, I don’t have any. Rizal almost won presidency, but oh well, I’m sure the current one could be trusted too.
I feel like I could go back to my own country now. I’ve been far away for too long. I miss the smell of the morning air when I wake up, the golden rice fields, the white sandy beaches, even those high brick red walls I have long escaped from. Isn’t it ironic for me, a country, to feel homesick?
September 2, 1891
Paris, France
Dear Alfred,
I really don’t know what to say! I mean, this must have cost you a fortune! I can’t accept this! I’m not good enough to wear such an expensive item (why a ring anyway?). I’ll keep it safe though until I could meet you again and return it to you because it might get lost in the mail (now I have to take care of it along with Uncle Yao’s pendant). I should have suspected that it’s going to be something like this when you said I have to open it at home! You’re so unfair! You were trying to make sure I keep it in me, at least! What if I chucked it to the trashcan? But I hate it when you know I won’t do that.
If you were able to read this, I’m glad you had a safe journey. Sometimes I just dread boarding boats because I don’t like the view of the ocean with no land on sight. I’m going back to Hongkong again next week. I’m so tired. After I leave France, I won’t be going back to Europe anymore. I feel like a foreigner having enough of others’ belongings surrounding me.
I’m getting more and more restless as the days flew by. I could feel it, the growing sense of nationalism of my people, the pride, the anger, the pain, the anticipation, the thirst for revenge. It was consuming all of my thoughts day in and day out it’s like forcing me to take action. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but I’m sure I want to be there for them.
P.S. Rizal won’t talk to me for a whole day when I showed him the ring. And then he told me something so upsetting, I refuse to believe it. I want to trust you, Alfred.
June 28, 1892
Hongkong
I seriously tried to consider your suggestion, but I still stand by my initial answer last week. I don’t want to implicate you further in my mess. I’m not trying to avoid you, I just want to resolve this on my own and there’s no guarantee that this would escalate into a full-scale war yet. I won’t readily go into arms again like my fatal mistake last time.
I’m still a bit surprised as to why you gave me a gun when I returned the ring to you, but I’ll remember what you instructed me to do with the gun, that I use it not to kill, but to protect myself from my enemies. Arthur said a thing or two about your ‘inappropriate’ gifting ability again but I’ll ignore him this time.
I’m worried for Rizal. The Governor-General considers him an enemy of the state because of his novels. I just had to admire his courage in facing his adversities.
I’ve been preparing for this day for over two decades now. I’ll be going back to the land of my people.
P.S. And this time, I refuse to be beaten.
July 7, 1892 around midnight
Somewhere in Manila outside the walled city
Clara silently moved in the shadows of the trees, carefully assessing her surroundings before making a move. She needed to be discrete with every action she took, lest she’s being followed. She had taken several different routes now and she was sure no one was able to keep track of her what with the darkness of the night enveloping her on all sides.
Soon, she saw the small hut in the distance, a faint light emitting from the small lamp hanging on one of the bamboo posts of the small nipa hut. As she moved closer, she could see the small congregation of men outside the hut.
All the men turned their attention to her when she walked out of the forest and into the open light.
A woman quickly made her way to Clara and covered her with a thick blanket. “I’m so glad you’re safe. We’ve been worried sick wondering how you escaped.” she was ushered towards the table that was in the center of the congregation. One man stood up to allow her some room to sit in.
“Are all of you aware of Jose Rizal being arrested this afternoon for forming La Liga Filipina three days ago?” she started, the commanding tone in her voice made the men who seemed to be uninformed of her existence to cease their relentless whispers. They nodded in affirmation of what she already knew they are aware of. “It is officially disbanded by the Governor-General now through Rizal’s deportation to Dapitan. But I want its members to still continue to push through with La Liga Filipina’s aims of achieving moderate social reforms through peaceful and legal means.”
“Achieving reforms through peaceful methods is no longer the case, Clara.” A voice came from behind them all, and Clara narrowed her eyes to look at the newcomer. “The Spaniards refused to negotiate. They are not letting Rizal go.”
“Rizal believed that the government could be reasoned with. I believe Rizal.”
“We, too, believe what Rizal has taught us. He has shown us natives where we stand against those oppressive foreigners. It’s high time we assert our claim over the motherland.”
Clara stood up in contempt, “I am here! I am the motherland! And I refuse to use violent means to achieve my own ends! There had been enough bloodshed throughout my history, something all of you never had to remember, so do not say you’re readily taking arms just because Rizal’s peaceful method failed! I’m not allowing any more blood to be spilled over my land!” she glared down at any man who dared to open their mouths to oppose her.
The newcomer moved in closer to her, allowing his face to be seen in the light. He had the same determined look as Clara to tide the opinion to his side. “I’ve seen enough of how the Spaniards treated my countrymen all my life. We’re lesser than humans, our lives amount next to nothing and they would not hesitate to use weapons against us at the slightest chance we give them, Clara. Weapons that could kill!”
And Clara knew every single man present there had already made up their mind when they came here, to take up arms and to revolt against the Spaniards. Clara looked hard into the newcomer’s eyes, trying to find the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. As she had expected, there was none. There was no fear present within the whole assembly of men in this place.
“That you lay down your life before me, is it your truest intention?” she cupped the man’s face in her hands and the man closed his eyes and allowed himself to kneel on the ground before her. And Clara’s eyes softened when all of the men knelt down on the ground all around her, the few women watching from the sidelines, crying with pride for their husbands and sons. Clara was the only one left standing.
“Yes, nothing is nobler, purer and more sublime than the wish in me to lay down my life to give you flight.”
She turned to address all the men kneeling before her, “Are you all aware that you’re endangering the lives of your family, of your beloved, and your own to fight for my sake, and my sake alone?”
There was a collective, “Yes.” from the men. Clara closed her eyes tightly, Rizal, what should I do? I don’t want to let them go to battle, but they…they are…
“Then I encourage all of you to do what you see fit for the situation, I won’t disagree with you anymore but I’m not agreeing with you either. Until you could prove to me that this is the right path to take, I will continue the advocacy of La Liga Filipina.” She announced, then she turned to the man kneeling closest to her, the man she knew to be the instigator of this meeting.
“You, will you lead these men as their Supremo?”
The man stared at her then bowed his head. “There is no greater honor than leading my countrymen to freedom.”
She cupped his face in her warm hands, making him look up at her, and she kissed him on the forehead as a blessing, “My faith and my countrymen lies in you, Andres Bonifacio.”
Again, I’d have to apologize for little historical facts incorporated in this chapter….and also too much drama (I can’t believe I made something like this again!!!) If I knew ‘I’ wrote this, I’d probably fall over laughing at myself. Shit, I forgot I have midterms tomorrow…crap, I’m bomb.
And as for Romano and Spain's bit there...their vague relationship would have some use to me in the future...hehe....
Some real facts in here though:
----Beginning with the years 1982 and up, whenever I mention Rizal being in one place at the letters, he really is there. I researched Rizal’s travel diary and I could say it would be such a bummer if I was Rizal’s stalker. He does not stay put for too long in one place, it’s annoying. I originally planned for Clara to be his constant companion throughout his travels abroad but I didn’t know he went to twenty different places in the span of almost ten years, not mentioning he kept of going back and forth between two places. He’s such a pain to track down.
----All of Rizal’s comments like he envisioned Clara to have future relations with Japan, is true. He did say that when he went to Japan. And as to what Rizal said about America to Clara, that would be revealed sometime later. Though you’d surely figure that out if you searched enough in his biography.
-----We all know Bonifacio is the Supremo of the Katipunan. He made the secret society on the same day that Rizal was arrested for La Liga Filipina…or if not, the day after. My sources are varied.
-----Rizal is strongly opposed to an armed revolt!!!
Well then…I’m nearing the PHILIPPINE REVOLUTION!! WEEE!!! I’m so excited to write how Antonio, Clara and Alfred would go to war with each other!!!!!