Here's a short story that we wrote for our Philippine Institution 100 course during our undergrad years. The characters are based on Jose Rizal's novels "Noli me Tangere" and "El Filibusterismo". It's not really that much, and we all contributed in writing the parts equally. I hope the lapses in grammar and writing style can be forgiven....
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THE MADNESS
“Will I do it? Will I not?”
Nighttime had crept quietly into the town of San Diego. The pale rays of the full moon illuminated the deserted streets, the Spanish-styled houses, and the massive outline of the church looming in the center of the pueblo. The silence was only broken by the tolling of the church bells announcing the midnight hour. But no sleeper stirred in bed, no troubled soul wanted to be woken from a dreamless sleep. The only person awake in this ungodly hour was the occupant of a small-lighted room in the monastery beside the church.
While the rest of the townspeople were snoring in their beds, sleep seemed to elude Salvador. The floor of his room creaked underneath his footsteps, and the candles slightly flickered from a faint breeze that entered through the half open window. He was pacing the floor in an agitated manner, never noticing the passing of midnight nor the strange shadows that the moonlight cast upon his walls. A mild breeze making the leaves of the trees, especially those of the tall acacias at the west side of the monastery, rustle. His thoughts were in shambles, and his mind was confronted by an even greater dilemma. It seemed like he had asked himself the same question a thousand times yet no answer could be found. He felt like he was standing between the devil and the deep blue sea; whichever evil he chose, he would still lose. He had silenced the dead, yet the dead came back to life to haunt him. Would he silence that same person all over again? Or would he allow time to settle his debt?
Salvador’s feet grew tired from the incessant pacing. He slowly went to the window and slumped on a nearby chair. His gaze went outside the window towards the distant fields touched by the pallor of the moon, his memories unconsciously transporting him to the past. He remembered walking barefoot on the sand with a woman during moonlit nights, remembered readying his boat at sunset to fish out to sea, remembered a familiar hand waving at him as he sailed farther away. Yes there was a woman who occupied his thoughts. Salvador’s pulse quickened when he remembered how the waves washed over her creamy skin when she bathe in the sea, how the sun brought out the golden hue in her hair, how her smiling brown eyes matched the gaiety of the flowers in spring. Then he saw the same young woman wading in the river of San Diego, the whiteness of her arms and thighs exposed to the sunlight, the shape of her body silhouetted by the water lapping at her dress. The same strange sensations returned to Salvador and haunted him with both desire and fear. Then the memories faded slowly into blackness until he found himself staring at the walls of his room once again. He was once again reminded of his guilt and dilemma. In the past years, he had thought that the deed would be safely buried throughout the passing of time. But the woman had come back and he needed to dispose her for his own peace of mind. Would he be willing to do it again in the subtlest way? He had prepared the poison that would promptly send the woman back to her grave. He had plotted everything with cunning and malice. The only thing lacking was his will to do it again. That was the reason why he had paced the floor back and forth, ignoring sleep and time, while his mind drifted in and out of his reveries.
“QUE TE JODAS!” The words kept ringing in Salvador’s ears ever since his childhood. He remembered his Mama, a hard and bitter woman who regularly beat him up when she was drunk. His Papa was a sickly but industrious fisherman, unable to stand up to his wife and stop her abuses. His greatest love was the sea, until the day the storm came and the sea permanently swallowed him up. Salvador and his mother shed no tears. His mother was out with her neighbors playing mahjong that day, while Salvador was all alone in the house, shivering with cold and hunger. His mother’s vices only worsened after his father died; she gambled almost on a daily basis while leaving him to fend for himself. As a result, he became undernourished and diminutive in stature. But now he was almost a man, yet he was unschooled in any profession or craft that enabled him to make a living in the world. What was he to do? He was not physically strong to withstand the hardships of being a fisherman? He could endure the beatings and insults of his peers but he was not prepared to face the elements of nature. Nevertheless, he went out to sea everyday in order to feed himself and his mother.
“I could buy fish from you everyday. Our family is new here, and we don’t know any other fishermen.” Such the ordinary words spoken by a woman to Salvador yet they were like a stream of kindness winding into his lonely heart. The woman who spoke them had silky skin, flowing hair, and smiling brown eyes that were shielded by thick dark lashes. Salvador remembered so well how he asked her name, how they shook hands, and how they saw each other every sunset when he set out to sea with the other fishermen. Soledad bought fish from him everyday, becoming his only regular buyer. Their friendship deepened, and Soledad often accompanied him during evenings when he was setting out his boat to sea.
Eventually, Salvador became aware that he was a changeling. He only realized how quickly he seemed to grow up through some strange emotions that he recently felt. Salvador knew that the world called this madness ‘love.’ But for him, madness and love seemed to have no distinct difference. He only knew that no one had ever shown him such kindness before in his short life. Women had always treated him with contempt, beginning with his mother. But Soledad was different from them. Her family was newcomers in the town but she never hesitated to reproach the other boys in the village for insulting and threatening Salvador. She had on other times demonstrated such acts of generosity by sharing food with him. Since Salvador was always hungry and depressed, Soledad’s disposition towards him was a refreshing breeze to his otherwise colorless life. Their friendship grew. Soledad would tell him things she never told anyone except for the reason that one, just out of the blue, she seemed happier than ever before. Starting that day, Soledad would smile serenely at remembering fond memories. Salvador would ask her repeatedly about the self-contented smile but she would only smile more.
But just as jealousy has a way of perverting reason, madness often takes the strangest form in lonely souls who had only experienced good things in so short a time. The fear of losing one’s happiness can transform a person into madness if that person has no control over his obsession. Without realizing it, Salvador had become obsessed with Soledad that the thought of losing her was unthinkable. He sometimes hid in the shadows and followed her on her way home. He never told anyone how he returned to shore in the middle of his fishing just to sit near the gate of her house and watch her window. He would spend hours in his room fantasizing about her…
“Somehow your smile seems different today,” Salvador remarked when Soledad finally came out to the shore at sunset.
“It should be. I am happy. Very happy,” Soledad said smiling, “and you should be, too, for me.”
“I’m always happy when I’m with you. What difference does that make with today?”
For a quiet moment, Salvador and Soledad stood looking out into the sunset, each absorbed with their own thoughts. Finally, Soledad broke the silence, saying, “A childhood friend, the reason of the smiles you often comment upon, of mine came to our house last Sunday. Rodrigo and I have always been close, and so are our families. We’ve been engaged for a year but had no definite wedding date… and now we’re planning to get married next month…”
Salvador hardly heard all of the words. It had never occurred to him that Soledad would get married and leave the town. He certainly never thought of losing her this way. The announcement came as a brutal shock. Salvador hardly knew what to say or how to react.
“What is the matter?” asked Soledad worriedly, “aren’t you happy for me?”
And everything suddenly became a blur as Soledad’s voice faded into the darkness again. The once happy memory was suddenly replaced by something painful. Salvador’s chest tightened and he sweat profusely. He almost jumped out of his chair and resumed pacing just to catch his breath. He could no longer hold back the ugly memories that suddenly flooded into his mind. His emotions were a mix of anger, hurt, and remorse. He could not help but remember…
He was happy when she was kind to him but now she would have her fiancé to think of. But now, the fear of losing her made him even more obsessed at keeping her forever. Would he tell her what he felt?
“Salvador, where are you taking me?” Soledad asked.
“Out there,” was Salvador’s reply. He and Soledad were on a boat heading towards the open sea. The clouds hanging over the Atlantic had a foreboding look.
“We’re heading farther and farther from the shore. Do you think it is alright?” asked Soledad worriedly.
“Don’t worry, it won’t take us long. I only wanted the distance to add privacy, for what I am going to say is so important,” Salvador said quietly.
“Well, the shore is certainly far from us now and I cannot see anybody around anymore. You can tell me freely now. We’re friends, right?” Soledad tried to lighten the atmosphere because she saw how serious Salvador’s expression was.
Salvador felt an intensity and anticipation he had never felt before. He had to say something, he must convince Soledad that she’ll be making a big mistake by walking away from him.
“Yo..yo te amo.. please you must believe me, Soledad.” Salvador confessed in stammering tones.
Soledad looked at him with surprise. Then her look softened to understanding and sympathy.
“You will always have a place in my heart, Salvador. But friendship is all I can give. For I have already promised love to Rodrigo...” Soledad answered gently but firmly.
Salvador felt the words pierce deeply in his consciousness. For the first time, he became aware that the dark clouds had gathered over the sea and that the biting cold of the wind on his skin was nothing compared to the cold he felt inside his heart.
“Por favor, don’t walk away from me Soledad. So many people did that to me before.. I can’t lose you now.”
Salvador tearfully tried his desperate pleas but it was useless. Love and madness are the same thing, they cannot both be dictated. Salvador’s pleas fell to deaf ears. Soledad in turn, also pleaded with him to understand and be happy for her instead.
“I can’t accept this! I can’t lose you! You belong to me only!”
Salvador began raging and shouting his frustrations while Soledad looked at him with horror. He had felt such an overwhelming fury and disappointment that he lost control of himself. Soledad began crying, begging him to return the boat to shore because a storm is surely coming.
“No! We will both die here! I suffered, therefore you will also suffer!” And saying so, Salvador dropped the oars into the sea.
“QUE TE JODAS! What made you betray our friendship Salvador? Are you pushing me to jump out of this boat since I cannot save myself as long as I’m on it? How could you do this to me?”
No answer was heard. Soledad’s gaze settled on Salvador’s face. What she saw made her blood curdle. The most demonic gleam was in his eyes. A bitter smile lurked at his lips.
Perhaps it was the madness that provoked him to blind fury… perhaps it was his deep obsession that drove him to violate her… perhaps it was the jealousy and resentment contained from the past years and had suddenly burst forth… perhaps we may never know. The world may never know that he wrapped the body with his father’s net, hid it inside the fishing trunk, and dumped it into the sea… No trace of her was found. The Atlantic hid the dead into oblivion, and Salvador’s deed was never discovered.
Salvador clearly remembered how his guilt made him suffer. He had horrible dreams at night; he burned the candles in his room at odd hours, talked to himself, and cried in his sleep. He would often have memory lapses, having no remembrance of where he was or what he did on certain days. By this time, his mother had grown ill and weak, and she was saying the he was sometimes talking alone in his room. She took all of his actions to mean that he had been communicating with God and was gifted with visions and strange tongues. She was utterly convinced of this belief that she repeatedly implored Salvador to enter the priesthood in order to save her soul and his father’s. Salvador saw this as an opportunity to leave the town. The walls of the church would provide him sanctuary and escape from the ugly memories that hounded him, and the missionary work of the order can take him to places where no one will recognize or condemn him. Furthermore, the new monarchy in Spain is sending friars to the new world, to the colonies of pagans that had not been indoctrinated into Christianity. The church needed missionaries, and Salvador needed a new life. So he made the decision to enter priesthood and eventually shortened his name to ‘Salvi.’
Fulfilling his mother’s wish did not endear him in any way to her. The same bitterness was there, Salvi was still unloved and unaccepted. His mother’s last words were still ringing painfully in his ears…
“I never loved you. You may have wondered why. It was because I never wanted you in the first place...”
He had forced himself to sit near his mother’s deathbed one day when he was unable to ignore her call. Between fits of coughing, his mother told him how his father got her pregnant, how their parents had arranged the marriage in haste in order to avoid disgrace, and how she had taken drugs and cursed the life in her womb as it grew day after day. With pain in his eyes, Salvi only looked at the woman he was unfortunate to call ‘Mama.’ Even in the last hours of agony, his mother had not been able to let go of the bitterness. She took them with her to the grave.
Padre Salvi left Spain for the new world with few regrets. First, his mother had died with the belief that her soul would be granted passage to heaven because of her son’s entrance to priesthood. Salvi had only a vague recollection of what happened in his coastal hometown. He had sought to bury that part of him which was sullied by those horrible memories. He still had nightmares every now and then, and sometimes he could not remember how he spent some of his days… it was as if there was a certain gap in his own identity. He had buried the obsession in the past into oblivion.
Las Islas Filipinas was the tropical island far into the southeastern part of the world. Salvi thought at first that it was teeming with unruly pagans and that they would have to be subdued by sword before receiving the Christian doctrines with docility. He was surprised to find that his parish at the obscure town of San Diego was not at all filled with infieles and indocumentados. Instead, the indios in the town were civilized and subdued, and they held the power of the Church with such awe. Here in this strange town of San Diego, Salvi seemed to find the peace he wanted at last.
“Soledad is dead… Soledad has come back…” The voices that whispered inside Salvi’s head had taken a twisted and gruesome tone. His nightmares now had new faces, and he seemed to have more and more memory lapses, which explains why the servants found him oddly distant and moody at times. The servants in the convent were avid gossipers, and he was frequently talked about. They gossiped about his weird habits, his nightmares and strange delusions, his sudden mood swings, his night ramblings, and his sullen disposition. He still had memory lapses every now and then and on several occasions he had found that he had been sleepwalking outside the convent. But mostly he was left alone, partly because he was the friar and also due to the indios’ ignorance and awe. Guilt came back to haunt him day and night, even in this far side of the pagan world. Soledad had risen from her grave! The ugly memories that he buried in his subconscious threatened to come out and drown him in a deep depression. He recognized Soledad, even though she had a new name and an alien fiancé known as Ibarra. Her presence filled Salvi with such nameless terror and remorse that he sometimes had to confine himself in his convent for days and burn his candles at odd hours of the night. It seemed as if no amount of religious penitence could wipe out the madness that he had buried within his subconscious. She now frequented his nightmares at night and his thoughts in the waking hours. At times he found himself staring at her, and this would cause her discomfort that she had to excuse herself from him. Salvi was in constant fear least his guilt and crime would be discovered. The young woman called Maria Clara was a threat to his peace of mind.
While Padre Salvi was pacing and reminiscing in his room, there was a certain young woman occupying the convent’s sick room who was even more disturbed than he was. Maria Clara was stricken with fever again, lying motionless on her bed. She could not believe how she had come to rest in this convent. Her memories were still fresh in her mind. She remembered Crisostomo Ibarra her fiancé, her home with Kapitan Tiago and Tia Isabel who had been her security and refuge, her affection with Padre Damaso, the person who was the missing puzzle of her identity, and finally Padre Salvi, who had become the ominous phantom in her life, the one who was responsible for her suffering. She recalled the day she first met him at church. He had been delivering a sermon from the pulpit. When his eyes fell upon her, he turned pale and his voice quavered. The whole congregation thought he was going to faint so they urged the sacristans to bring strong spirits to mass next time. Time and again, she kept seeing him staring at her strangely. She had once thought that he was mad, because he kept asking her if she had dreamed of letters from her mother. But her fears came true one day when she was lying in her sickbed. Padre Salvi came as her confessor. It was at that time that he revealed the truth about her real father, producing the letters that were written by her mother as proof. Padre Salvi had asked for Ibarra’s letters in exchange for silence and for her mother’s letters. It was during her sickness that the priest became the one who confessed; Salvi had revealed his dark obsession to her during that confession. And she realized her stupidity too late. She should have chosen to face the harshness of the world instead of escaping from it, only to fall into a harsher and more inhuman prison. Her hasty decision and emotionality lead her to the Sta. Clara cloister where Padre Salvi followed her and continued to torment her. Maria Clara shuddered in remembering the darkness behind those walls, how she had suffered, and how she was sullied by the man whom everyone believed to be holy. And this time, Padre Salvi had spread lies about her declining health, convincing the Mother Superior that her illness was contagious and that she would have to be treated and housed elsewhere. He further tricked the nuns into believing that she would be brought to a clinic that specializes in the illness. She only found out that she was given something to drink and the next thing she knew, she was back in San Diego lying in this monastery room. And her nightmare was only a corridor away from her!
The toll of the bell signaling midnight was heard deep into the night. Maria Clara was paralyzed by fears as midnight meant a visit from her captor. What would he do to her tonight?
“No, I cannot go on like this,” Maria Clara thought. “The harshness of the world is nothing compared to what I’ve suffered here. I have to escape. This is my last chance.”
The fever made her footing unsteady but she was determined to stand. Slowly she made her way out of the room, dragging her feet as she went, her heart clutched in fear. She knew that all doors are locked. No jail keeper would leave open doors for their prisoners. She made her way to the second floor of the monastery to make her escape. Maria Clara went on walking until she reached it. The climb was an agonizing one, and her muscles and joints ache from the exertion. A few more steps and she would be at the top of the stairs. But when she reached the last stair step, her vision suddenly blurred making her last step a heavy one.
Padre Salvi jumped out of his chair again, his ears keenly listening for the source of the noise. He had a suspicion that Maria Clara may be trying to escape. He hastily went out of the room and ran to the source of the sound.
“Mierda!” The curse slipped from his lips when he saw his captive nearing the room in the farthest corner of the west wing in the second floor. What is Soledad planning?” Then, as clear as the day, the answer came to him as he trailed the corridor to catch Maria Clara. She intends to climb out of the window to a nearby acacia tree to escape.
Maria Clara was too sick to notice Padre Salvi. Her whole attention was devoted on escaping. Thus, she was shocked when somebody grabbed her from behind.
No, only a few more steps to freedom, this can’t be happening, Maria Clara thought as she struggled against her attacker.
Their struggle continued for some time but Maria Clara was weakening. Padre Salvi sensed his quarry’s slack in her efforts. “Soledad, Soledad, he crooned as Maria Clara went limp in his arms. “Soledad, Soledad, Soledad, Maria Clara, Soledad…
Reality was lost as the past and the present merged. The onslaught that Maria Clara feared came to be. She was breathing but her eyes were dazed and lifeless. Her body was like a rag, her spirit broken. Padre Salvi, after dishonoring her, carried her in his arms back to the room and locked the door.
Maria Clara heard the lock clicked into place. She laid unmoving on her bed. Her eyes drawn to the bars of the windows, but unseeing. It was the wee hours of the morning yet darkness cloaked everything. Not even the moonlight seemed to reach this part of the monastery.
Little by little, Maria Clara’s broken spirit left her body. It was in the wee hours of the morning when Salvador silenced Soledad once more, this time inside a monastery where “only the walls can hear her cries.” Perhaps the world will never know how Salvador’s madness had penetrated the gates of the monastery… how he had sullied the victim inside the walls in pursuit of his obsession. But then again, walls may have ears… and justice is as obscure as the stars in a stormy night.
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Authors:
Mylene, Lovelyn, and Graciella
