The shopkeepers were able to identify the teenager as a foreigner because his clothes were very different. A global world traveller would be able to identify the clothes as western dress, but no such global travellers were in Maasin City. The shopkeepers just recognized what he was wearing as different. The teenager's skin was also a different shade of brown than theirs and the way he wore his hair was very different. Maasinites had never seen a male with a long braid hanging down to his shoulders before. Some wondered if he were a she, but decided otherwise when they saw the muscles on his chest and the size of his hands. He was young, but on his way to becoming a big man. Still, the stranger was a man who had hair like a girl. They all watched him/her carefully and had fun at his/her expense.
Pablo saw the foreigner coming and squeezed his way through the crowd to stand in front of him. "Mathias. You came back."
"I did," the young man admitted and looked more closely at the teenager in front of him. "Pablocito?"
"Pablo now. I am in charge of the fruit stall. Come. I will give you an apple. We can talk."
"I should continue to look..."
"Nobody in the market has anything new to sell. Carlos is on a buying trip with Papa. He may have found something new. They return tomorrow. Come. I have a stool that you can rest on. We can talk. I will teach you Spanish. You will help me learn English? Like you did with Carlos? You can have an orange too, if you like."
[Narrator: As you have realized, Mathias had been in Maasin City before. He had become friends with one of Pablo's older brothers – Carlos. They had talked about sex as young boys will do. Carlos knew a girl who was very tolerant of young teenage boys and their desire to learn more about the female body. He had introduced Mathias to her. Their "date" had not gone well and Mathias had shared that experience with Granny. Nothing about this encounter has appeared in my previous books. It was not something that Mathias would have wanted me to share. I mention it now because Mathias' situation has changed.]
"Do you have any peaches for sale?" Mathias inquired.
"What are peaches?"
Interesting.
# # # # # # # #
It's now the next evening and the streets were deserted. Mathias was eating a late meal with Carlos, Pablo and their family in the Suerte restaurant. By Canadian standards, the restaurant was small, but it still had cooking facilities in the back and space for four customer tables in the front. The family served food taken from their fruit, vegetable, and fresh fish stalls. Their oldest son, a man of 22, was apprenticing with a butcher. The oldest girl, 21, was learning the liquor trade. The Suerte family would be expanding their restaurant menu soon. All part of the long term plan.
This restaurant business was new to Mathias, so he learned how they had been blessed with a lease they could afford and who had blessed them. El Patrón. When Mathias asked a question about him, Carlos changed the subject with a question. "Where did you find these peaches?"
Mathias had brought two crates of bottled peaches with him to the restaurant. He had stored them aboard the jumbo transport strictly for his own meals. Mathias loved peaches, knew that he'd be away from home for at least a week, and brought enough in the transport to treat himself daily. When he saw the rapture which the entire family exhibited as they ate the peaches, he had a Wizardian thought and wondered about exports. Then that thought morphed to the possibility of using peaches as a trading vehicle.
The Suerte family was typical for residents of the near-slums of Maasin and other small cities in Southern Leyte. They had a lot of children because the dominant religion in the region forbade birth control devices of any kind. Not everybody in that religion obeyed and this is why El Jefe made piles of money smuggling condoms. Check that. The new El Jefe was making piles of money smuggling condoms. The former El Jefe had taken a long vacation somewhere. Eternally long. The Suertes were strong believers in their church. Because of that, they had nine children with a risk of more appearing. Mama was only in her early 40s and Papa was a Filipino male. Need I say more?
Like their neighbours trying to survive in the near-slums, the Suertes were entrepreneurs. They created small businesses and tried to earn enough money to survive on what was left after the landlord had taken his share of their income. The Suertes were lucky in that they lived under the patronage of El Patrón. [Suerte in Spanish means luck.] Thanks to El Patrón, they had two places where they could sleep. The younger members slept in the family shack; the older members often slept in their restaurant – the better to protect it from street crime which could be rampant.
They also spoke passable English thanks to the private school that El Patrón had built. The younger children learned English in that school and then taught their older siblings. English was what the rich business people spoke in the Philippines. Nobody could amount to anything unless they spoke English. Papa and Mama knew this and made sure that their children learned the language. They themselves did not speak it. When Mathias had dinner with the Suertes, a murmur of translation always accompanied each conversation. Mathias was a welcome guest because he had been so willing to teach Carlos English.
# # # # # # # #
The evening was coming to an end. The family would sleep in the restaurant tonight, the darkness of the city being lit only by a quarter moon. There were no streetlights in Maasin City or in any other small city in the Philippines. The Suertes were a large enough group that they could have made it back to their shack safely, but the restaurant floor had ample space for all. Why take the chance?
"I will take Mathias to his transport," Pablo offered.
"That's OK," Mathias answered. "I have a light and I know the way." He also had a sling which is what he'd be using as soon as he turned left and disappeared into the alley. "Besides it would be dangerous for you to come back to the restaurant on your own."
"Nobody would dare touch me," Pablo bragged.
"You have become Superman?" [Yes dear reader, even in the 2080s, the legend of Superman circulated among young boys.]
"I have a girl friend," Pablo boasted.
"Your girl friend is Supergirl and she'll protect you?" Mathias didn't realize that he was stumbling into the middle of a family dispute.
Carlos interceded. "Pablo is dating El Patrón's daughter with his blessing. He is allowed to enter the house and visit with her. When they come out of the house, she kisses him. Everybody knows about her."
Pablo hadn't explained to the family exactly what it was that he and Kashmira were doing inside the house when he visited her. But everybody in the community saw how Kashmira was kissing him and had reached the same conclusion.
"That one is a slut," Luisa translated Mama's growl.
"She's not," Pablo said. "She's nice."
"She has her tongue half-way down your throat. She is a devil like her father." Again, Luisa with Mama's verdict – one that was shared widely within the Suerte family.
Pablo didn't deny it. The public kiss had been a recent development, one that he hadn't been expecting. He knew that Kashmira and her father had exchanged angry words; he hadn't heard enough to understand that it was El Patrón who was insisting on this type of kiss.
"Being her boyfriend still means that I can walk with you to your transport and nobody would dare to touch you."
Mathias saw Mama winding up for another fastball down the middle of the Kashmira plate. "Why don't you stay with me in the transport until dawn?" Mathias suggested to Pablo. "That way you can tell me more about your girl friend."
Everybody liked that idea. The Suerte family was hoping that Mathias might be able to talk some sense into Pablo. Pablo, on the other hand, was remembering what El Patrón had threatened would happen if he told anybody what he had witnessed in the kitchen the day that El Jefe had disappeared. Mathias was a foreigner who couldn't speak more than a few words of Spanish. Mathias wouldn't be able to tell anybody what Pablo was planning to confess to him tonight in the darkness of that transport.
# # # # # # # #
Pablo's story came out in a rush the instant they were in the transport. My readers know what had happened to Pablo when he was in the kitchen up to the point where Kashmira spun on her heel and stormed down the hallway. I'll resume Pablo's story from that point.
Kashmira had entered her bedroom, but turned around immediately when she saw Pablo sitting on the bed. "Cover yourself up," she muttered. Pablo used a blanket to do that and told her she could turn around now. Kashmira went into her walk-in closet, came out with a chair, positioned it next to the bed, and sat down.
"You weren't asking my father to be my boyfriend," she accused. "Why were you praying?"
Pablo told her.
"He'll kill you unless people believe that you were with me in this bedroom where you could not have heard my father order Ramón to kill more people. The only reason we'd be in here all morning would be if we were having sex."
"Yes. That's what he said."
"Pablo, I don't want to have sex with you. But I don't want you to die either. It is true that I am no longer a virgin. I am a fallen woman now. I will have sex with you."
Kashmira sat on the bed next to him. "Do you know what to do?"
Pablo shook his head No.
She took his hand. "I do. I will help you."
# # # # # # # #
"So you deliver fruit and vegetables to the house in the mornings and you're allowed into her bedroom?" Mathias asked.
"Yes. I stay there for an hour and we have sex three times. In between, we talk in English for practice. Afterwards we both go outside and kiss goodbye. Her father is now making her hug me very close in the street and kiss me... you know."
"Yeah, I heard."
"Kashmira says that he's going to marry her to a family that likes having sluts in the family. He will give them his daughter; they will give him a share of their business. But first he has to show them that she's a slut. We were thinking of running away."
"But?"
"It's impossible. El Patrón controls everything. The police. The solar busses. The boats. We have sex but she doesn't love me."
"Do you love her?"
"No. She's beautiful, but..."
"But what?"
"If I stay friends with her, El Patrón will make me join his guards as a reward. When I do, my family will disown me. But if I refuse to join his guards, he may punish my family by taking away one of our businesses."
"El Patrón is evil?"
"Very. I can't get away from him. Soon I will either be dead or disowned."
"Not much of a choice."
"She didn't want to have sex with me, Mathias. Her father forces her. She needs help too. Before we leave her bedroom, we both pray for help."
"I don't know if I can do anything, but I'll look into it. How will I know her?"
"She lives in the biggest house in the city. She is the most beautiful girl to have ever existed."
Mathias offered his help because he was bored. He had finished all of his high school study bots but hadn't decided what university subject to study first. The rest of the family would be continuing their operations against Safe Haven, but he had been left out because of his pilot job. Helping this girl would be an interesting challenge.
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 10
Mathias wasn't the only person in our story who was bored. Bean was bored too. She had looked further into enrolling in Loyola's Religious Studies program and had read the course list in their program of studies. Understanding the Role of Religion in Today's Society. Interpreting Ancient Religions' Message for Youth Today. The Common Message in All Religions. Radical Islam and its Impact on the World. Why Bad Things Happen to Good People.
All of these courses sounded interesting and covered exactly what Bean wanted to learn. But those were merely the first year courses. The second and third year courses were even better. The fourth year courses involved going out into the community and volunteering with one of the local religions. She discovered that nun training was not something that Loyola offered, but that had been a wild thought anyway. Bean looked at Loyola's summer school timetable to determine when she could start. September was the answer. The Religious Studies program did not operate during the summer. But the university's Learning Resources Store was open and perhaps they'd have the bots for the courses she wanted to take. The university campus was very close to where she lived. She had selected her little apartment for that reason.
Bean made several discoveries that morning. The first was that the University's Learning Resources Store did have bots for every course that the university offered but these were very expensive. A student clerk stocking the shelves saw Bean standing there with a frown on her face. "Don't buy anything here," he muttered to her. "They're making big profits off the students. Go to the Student Union building. Everybody sells their used bots there at the end of semester. You've come early enough to find plenty of used bots in Religious Studies."
"Thanks," Bean replied. She ignored his offer to show her around campus.
The Student Union Building did have much cheaper prices as well as several copies of the bot she wanted. The student at the check out suggested that if she wanted other bots in that program, she should buy them now. They'd be gone by September. Bean went back to the shelves and took everything that she'd need for her first year. The student at the check out dropped her bots into a Loyola Student Union paper bag and added assorted information for new students: maps, lists of student societies, campus sports offerings, calendar of special events, and so on. "Volleyball?" he asked, a question prompted by Bean's height.
Bean nodded, believing he was asking if she liked the sport.
"In case they haven't told you yet, your team has reserved drop-in volleyball practice times at the main gym for girls who are here in the summer."
"Thanks. Where is the gym?"
"Big building right behind the main library. Go out the door and turn left. It's a 5 minute walk. I'm off work at 2:30 if you'd like a tour of campus."
# # # # # # # #
Bean found the gym easily enough and wandered around the complex. She found two large gyms – one for women and the other for men. Both were surrounded by spectator seating. Locker rooms were down a flight of cement stairs. The first thing she saw when she reached the bottom was a student standing behind a wooden counter. The student motioned her over. "Volleyball?" she asked.
Bean nodded.
"The women's locker rooms are to the right, men's to the left. All university teams have their own changing room with secure thumb-print lockers. The volleyball clubroom is the third door to your left. You're two doors away from the showers. When you've finished a practice, stop by here for a towell. When you leave, drop the wet towell in the hamper to your left. Do you have your gear yet?"
Bean shook her head.
"I'll start you with two sets of large-size gear. This will include underwear as well. If you don't like them, you can use your own, but you'll have to do your own laundry. Drop all your used gear in the hamper with your towell." At that point, the student disappeared into a storage room and came out with several flat packages. "If these don't fit, bring them back. I'm usually right about the sizes. Once season starts, you'll have two pairs of shoes; one for practices and one for games. For now, you can have one pair. They usually last several months. The shoe room is over to the right. Go on in and find something that fits. Take your shoes home with you after practice; don't let them sit inside your locker and get stinky. The best drop in practice time for you would probably be the one at 1 p.m. If you want to use the weight room, it's at the far end of the corridor one floor up. You're entitled to practice any sport you wish for general conditioning and agility work. You might try basketball. They practice in the evenings. We have a good group of first and second year volleyball players but nobody has showed up yet with your height. They'll enjoy having you play with them. Coaches are all off on holidays, so don't expect them to be around to give you any help. So
me seniors drop in from time to time to lend a helping hand."
"Do I have to sign anything? Pay anything?"
"Nah. The university provides everything for free for team members. Go Ramblers."
Gym rat Bean had died and gone to Heaven.
# # # # # # # #
Well... perhaps not Heaven.
Bean played in the volleyball drop-in practice at 1 p.m., wandered around campus afterwards, and grabbed some food at the student union. It looked as good as bar food. The girl at the check out asked her if she had her Volleyball Training Table account yet. Bean shook her head.
"Once you do, your food will be free up to a reasonable amount. They'll give you a payment card. Until then, you'll have to pay for your food."
"How much is this?" Bean pointed to her loaded tray.
"Works out to $3.14."
It was cheaper than bar food too.
The non-heavenly part of Bean's day occurred in the shower room. The shower rooms provided by the Scandinavian army used shower curtains to form discrete personal stalls. Loyola University had gang showers, meaning showerheads were deployed along three walls of a tiled room with no curtains in sight. At the end of her first volleyball drop-in practice, Bean stalled for ten minutes. As she had hoped, the shower room was empty by the time she entered it.
Bean performed the same delay-dance with the basketball drop-in practice that evening. She walked into an empty shower room once again. Bean started to wash her face under the gentle stream of hot water and was looking up at the showerhead when it spoke to her.
"Why don't you kill me like you killed all those men?" the showerhead asked.
My readers will appreciate why Bean didn't have a ready reply. She looked around the room for the source of the voice. Finding none, she turned back to her shower.
"Every day I wish that I was dead. If I hadn't let you go into the city by yourself, none of this would have happened."
Again, a search for the source of the voice was unsuccessful. Again, Bean returned to the flow of water.
"Look at me, Benedikta," the voice instructed. A face occupied the space where the showerhead had once been.