CHAPTER

EVE

63:

CHRISTMAS

High up on the slope of the

mountain near a roaring
stream a hut built on the
gnarled logs hides itself
among the trees. Over its
kogon thatch clambers the
branching gourd-vine, laden
with flowers and fruit. Deer
antlers and skulls of wild boar,
some with long tusks, adorn
this mountain home, where
lives a Tagalog family engaged
in hunting and cutting
firewood.
In the shade of a tree the
grandsire was making brooms
from the fibers of palm leaves,
while a young woman was
placing eggs, limes, and some
vegetables in a wide basket.
Two children, a boy and a girl,
were playing by the side of
another, who, pale and sad,
with large eyes and a deep
gaze, was seated on a fallen
tree-trunk. In his thinned
features we recognize Sisas
son, Basilio, the brother of
Crispin.

to jump from rock to rock

above the torrent.
Basilio smiled sadly, stared at
the sore on his foot, and then
turned his gaze toward the
sun, which shone
resplendently.
Sell these brooms, said the
grandfather to the young
woman, and buy something for
the children, for tomorrow is
Christmas.
Firecrackers, I want some
firecrackers! exclaimed the
boy.
I want a head for my
doll, cried the little girl,
catching hold of her sisters
tapis.
And you, what do you
want? the grandfather asked
Basilio, who at the question
arose laboriously and
approached the old man.
Sir, he said, Ive been sick
more than a month now,
havent I?

When your foot gets well, the

little girl was saying to
him, well play hide-and-seek.
Ill be the leader.

Since we found you lifeless

and covered with wounds, two
moons have come and gone.
We thought you were going to
die.

Youll go up to the top of the

mountain with us, added the
little boy, and drink deer blood
with lime-juice and youll get
fat, and then Ill teach you how

May God reward you, for we

are very poor, replied Basilio.
But now that tomorrow is
Christmas I want to go to the
town to see my mother and

my little brother. They will be

seeking for me.

granddaughter, will go with

you to the nearest town.

But, my son, youre not yet

well, and your town is far
away. You wont get there by
midnight.

What! Youre going away? the

little boy asked him. Down
there are soldiers and many
robbers. Dont you want to see
my firecrackers? Boom, boom,
boom!

That doesnt matter, sir. My

mother and my little brother
must be very sad. Every year
we spend this holiday
together. Last year the three
of us had a whole fish to eat.
My mother will have been
mourning and looking for me.
You wont get to the town
alive, boy! Tonight were going
to have chicken and wild
boars meat. My sons will ask
for you when they come from
the field.
You have many sons while my
mother has only us two.
Perhaps she already believes
that Im dead! Tonight I want
to give her a pleasant surprise,
a Christmas gift, a son.
The old man felt the tears
springing up into his eyes, so,
placing his hands on the boys
head, he said with
emotion: Youre like an old
man! Go, look for your mother,
give her the Christmas gift
from God, as you say. If I had
known the name of your town I
would have gone there when
you were sick. Go, my son,
and may God and the Lord
Jesus go with you. Lucia, my

Dont you want to play hideand-seek? asked the little girl.

Have you ever played it?
Surely theres nothing any
more fun than to be chased
and hide yourself?
Basilio smiled, but with tears
in his eyes, and caught up his
staff. Ill come back soon, he
answered. Ill bring my little
brother, youll see him and
play with him. Hes just about
as big as you are.
Does he walk lame,
too? asked the little girl. Then
well make him it when we
play hide-and-seek.
Dont forget us, the old
man said to him. Take this
dried meat as a present to
your mother.
The children accompanied him
to the bamboo bridge swung
over the noisy course of the
stream. Lucia made him
support himself on her arm,
and thus they disappeared
from the childrens sight,
Basilio walking along nimbly in
spite of his bandaged leg.

The north wind whistled by,

making the inhabitants of San
Diego shiver with cold. was
Christmas Eve and yet the
town was wrapped in gloom.
Not a paper lantern hung from
the windows nor did a single
sound in the houses indicate
the rejoicing of other years.
In the house of Capitan Basilio,
he and Don Filipofor the
misfortunes of the latter had
made them friendlywere
standing by a window-grating
and talking, while at another
were Sinang, her cousin
Victoria, and the beautiful
Iday, looking toward the
street.
The waning moon began to
shine over the horizon,
illumining the clouds and
making the trees and houses
east long, fantastic shadows.
Yours is not a little good
fortune, to get off free in these
times! said Capitan Basilio to
Don Filipo. Theyve burned
your books, yes, but others
have lost more.
A woman approached the
grating and gazed into the
interior. Her eyes glittered,
her features were emaciated,
her hair loose and dishevelled.
The moonlight gave her a
weird aspect.
Sisal exclaimed Don Filipo in
surprise. Then turning to
Capitan Basilio, as the

madwoman ran away, he

asked, Wasnt she in the house
of a physician? Has she been
cured?
Capitan Basilio smiled bitterly.
The physician was afraid they
would accuse him of being a
friend of Don Crisostomos, so
he drove her from his house.
Now she wanders about again
as crazy as ever, singing,
harming no one, and living in
the woods.
What else has happened in the
town since we left it? I know
that we have a new curate and
another alferez.
These are terrible times,
humanity is
retrograding, murmured Capita
n Basilio, thinking of the past.
The day after you left they
found the senior sacristan
dead, hanging from a rafter in
his own house. Padre Salvi
was greatly affected by his
death and took possession of
all his papers. Ah, yes, the old
Sage, Tasio, also died and was
buried in the Chinese
cemetery.
Poor old man! sighed Don
Filipo. What became of his
books?
They were burned by the
pious, who thought thus to
please God. I was unable to
save anything, not even
Ciceros works. The

gobernadorcillo did nothing to

prevent it.

ran to throw himself into his

mothers arms.

Both became silent. At that

moment the sad and
melancholy song of the
madwoman was heard.

The madwoman left the plaza

and stopped in front of the
house of the new alferez.
Now, as formerly, there was a
sentinel before the door, and a
womans head appeared at the
window, only it was not the
Medusas but that of a comely
young woman: alferez and
unfortunate are not
synonymous terms.

Do you know when Maria Clara

is to be married? Iday asked
Sinang.
I dont know, answered the
latter. I received a letter from
her but havent opened it for
fear of finding out. Poor
Crisostomo!
They say that if it were not for
Linares, they would hang
Capitan Tiago, so what was
Maria Clara going to
do? observed Victoria
A boy limped by, running
toward the plaza, whence
came the notes of Sisas song.
It was Basilio, who had found
his home deserted and in
ruins. After many inquiries he
had only learned that his
mother was insane and
wandering about the townof
Crispin not a word.
Basilio choked back his tears,
stifled any expression of his
sorrow, and without resting
had started in search of his
mother. On reaching the town
he was just asking about her
when her song struck his ears.
The unhappy boy overcame
the trembling in his limbs and

Sisa began to sing before the

house with her gaze fixed on
the moon, which soared
majestically in the blue
heavens among golden clouds.
Basilio saw her, but did not
dare to approach her. Walking
back and forth, but taking care
not to get near the barracks,
he waited for the time when
she would leave that place.
The young woman who was at
the window listening
attentively to the
madwomans song ordered the
sentinel to bring her inside,
but when Sisa saw the soldier
approach her and heard his
voice she was filled with terror
and took to flight at a speed of
which only a demented person
is capable. Basilio, fearing to
lose her, ran after her,
forgetful of the pains in his
feet.
Look how that boys chasing
the madwoman! indignantly

exclaimed a woman in the

street. Seeing that he
continued to pursue her, she
picked up a stone and threw it
at him, saying, Take that! Its a
pity that the dog is tied up!
Basilio felt a blow on his head,
but paid no attention to it as
he continued running. Dogs
barked, geese cackled, several
windows opened to let out
curious faces but quickly
closed again from fear of
another night of terror.
Soon they were outside of the
town. Sisa began to moderate
her flight, but still a great
distance separated her from
her pursuer.
Mother! he called to her when
he caught sight of her.
Scarcely had the madwoman
heard his voice when she
again took to flight.
Mother, its I! cried the boy in
desperation, but the
madwoman did not heed him,
so he followed panting. They
had now passed the cultivated
fields and were near the wood;
Basilio saw his mother enter it
and he also went in. The
bushes and shrubs, the thorny
vines and projecting roots of
trees, hindered the
movements of both. The son
followed his mothers shadowy
form as it was revealed from
time to time by the moonlight
that penetrated through the

foliage and into the open

spaces. They were in the
mysterious wood of the Ibarra
family.
The boy stumbled and fell
several times, but rose again,
each time without feeling pain.
All his soul was centered in his
eyes, following the beloved
figure. They crossed the
sweetly murmuring brook
where sharp thorns of bamboo
that had fallen on the sand at
its margin pierced his bare
feet, but he did not stop to pull
them out.
To his great surprise he saw
that his mother had plunged
into the thick undergrowth and
was going through the wooden
gateway that opened into the
tomb of the old Spaniard at
the foot of the balete. Basilio
tried to follow her in, but found
the gate fastened. The
madwoman defended the
entrance with her emaciated
arms and disheveled head,
holding the gate shut with all
her might.
Mother, its I, its I! Im Basilio,
your son! cried the boy as he
let himself fall weakly.
But the madwoman did not
yield. Bracing herself with her
feet on the ground, she offered
an energetic resistance.
Basilio beat the gate with his
fists, with his Mood-stained
head, he wept, but in vain.

Painfully he arose and

examined the wall, thinking to
scale it, but found no way to
do so. He then walked around
it and noticed that a branch of
the fateful balete was crossed
with one from another tree.
This he climbed and, his filial
love working miracles, made
his way from branch to branch
to the balete, from which he
saw his mother still holding
the gate shut with her head.
The noise made by him among
the branches attracted Sisas
attention. She turned and
tried to run, but her son,
letting himself fall from the
tree, caught her in his arms
and covered her with kisses,
losing consciousness as he did
so.
Sisa saw his blood-stained
forehead and bent over him.
Her eyes seemed to start from
their sockets as she peered
into his face. Those pale
features stirred the sleeping
cells of her brain, so that
something like a spark of
intelligence flashed up in her
mind and she recognized her
son. With a terrible cry she fell
upon the insensible body of
the boy, embracing and
kissing him. Mother and son
remained motionless.
When Basilio recovered
consciousness he found his
mother lifeless. He called to
her with the tenderest names,

but she did not awake.

Noticing that she was not
even breathing, he arose and
went to the neighboring brook
to get some water in a banana
leaf, with which to rub the
pallid face of his mother, but
the madwoman made not the
least movement and her eyes
remained closed.
Basilio gazed at her in terror.
He placed his ear over her
heart, but the thin, faded
breast was cold, and her heart
no longer beat. He put his lips
to hers, but felt no breathing.
The miserable boy threw his
arms about the corpse and
wept bitterly.
The moon gleamed
majestically in the sky, the
wandering breezes sighed, and
down in the grass the crickets
chirped. The night of light and
joy for so many children, who
in the warm bosom of the
family celebrate this feast of
sweetest memoriesthe feast
which commemorates the first
look of love that Heaven sent
to earththis night when in all
Christian families they eat,
drink, dance, sing, laugh, play,
caress, and kiss one another
this night, which in cold
countries holds such magic for
childhood with its traditional
pine-tree covered with lights,
dolls, candies, and tinsel,
whereon gaze the round,
staring eyes in which
innocence alone is reflected

this night brought to Basilio

only orphanhood. Who knows
but that perhaps in the home
whence came the taciturn
Padre Salvi children also
played, perhaps they sang
La Nochebuena se viene,
La Nochebuena se va.

[1]

For a long time the boy wept

and moaned. When at last he
raised his head he saw a man
standing over him, gazing at
the scene in silence.
Are you her son? asked the
unknown in a low voice.
The boy nodded.
What do you expect to do?
Bury her!
In the cemetery?
I havent any money and,
besides, the curate wouldnt
allow it.
Then?
If you would help me
Im very weak, answered the
unknown as he sank slowly to
the ground, supporting himself
with both hands. Im
wounded. For two days I
havent eaten or slept. Has no
one come here tonight?
The man thoughtfully
contemplated the attractive

features of the boy, then went

on in a still weaker
voice, Listen! I, too, shall be
dead before the day comes.
Twenty paces from here, on
the other side of the brook,
there is a big pile of firewood.
Bring it here, make a pyre, put
our bodies upon it, cover them
over, and set fire to the whole
fire, until we are reduced to
ashes!
Basilio listened attentively.
Afterwards, if no one comes,
dig here. You will find a lot of
gold and it will all be yours.
Take it and go to school.
The voice of the unknown was
becoming every moment more
unintelligible. Go, get the
firewood. I want to help you.
As Basilio moved away, the
unknown turned his face
toward the east and
murmured, as though praying:
I die without seeing the dawn
brighten over my native land!
You, who have it to see,
welcome itand forget not
those who have fallen during
the night!
He raised his eyes to the sky
and his lips continued to
move, as if uttering a prayer.
Then he bowed his head and
sank slowly to the earth.
Two hours later Sister Rufa was
on the back veranda of her

house making her morning

ablutions in order to attend
mass. The pious woman
gazed at the adjacent wood
and saw a thick column of
smoke rising from it. Filled
with holy indignation, she
knitted her eyebrows and
exclaimed:

What heretic is making a

clearing on a holy day? Thats
why so many calamities come!
You ought to go to purgatory
and see if you could get out of
there, savage!