Never an Empire Page 7

  Father Enrique came on horseback accompanied by his housekeeper, to look after his domestic arrangements, and his sacristan, who would assist him in his religious duties. The housekeeper and the sacristan rode mules, each leading another mule, both heavily laden. It had been agreed that the baggage be limited to the bare essentials and be carried by a single pack mule. But, even though both housekeeper and sacristan insisted that they were only taking the very least they needed to carry out their various duties, in the end a second mule was added to the party.

  To the rear, following Father Enrique, his housekeeper, sacristan, and pack mules were two uniformed men on horseback: armed police officers provided as a guard against attack. No one seriously expected that a priest might be attacked on the road but the chief of police in San Juan had insisted, claiming that Macario Sakay’s bandits operated not so very far away in the mountains and would waylay anyone they came across, priest or not. It was, of course, no more than a propaganda exercise and everyone knew it. General Macario Sakay’s forces were as loyal to the Catholic Church as everyone else but the chief of police was keen to show his superiors in Manila, and through them, the American civil governor, that he was suitably active in hunting down Sakay’s forces and just as busy convincing the people that Sakay and his men were bandits not freedom fighters.

  Once away from the town and the eyes of their superior the policemen made no attempt to hide their annoyance at having to leave their own comfortable station and go to some God-forsaken village to spend several nights sleeping on dirt floors for no good reason other than their chief wanting to make a show. They followed Father Enrique sullenly with their rifles slung over their shoulders and never once bothering to look out for any possibility of an attack which they knew, like everyone else, would never come.

  When the party approached the village the police unslung their rifles, moved to the front of the group, and took charge. It was not that they were in the least bit interested in trying to convince the villagers that they were doing the job allocated them by their chief: they were far more interested in stamping their own personal authority on the people. They knew very well that police, coming for whatever reason, would be resented and if they once showed any weakness they would be treated as unwanted intruders or worse with the inevitable consequences for their food and lodging.

  So it was that Father Enrique’s little party was led smartly into the village centre by the uniformed men where they found the village gathered. The people had been patiently waiting for over two hours and as the party came to a halt the head man came forward, took off his hat, bowed, and waited. Father Enrique, unused to riding and uncomfortable from his journey dismounted with difficulty and stood for a moment, stiff, and, in certain places, quite sore. He was unprepared, therefore, when the head man stepped forward, took his hand, kissed it, and then stood back.

  Father Enrique was embarrassed and, had he anticipated the action, would have prevented it. To kiss the hand, or more accurately, the Episcopal ring worn on the finger of the hand, was a mark of respect shown to bishops and above, not to humble parish priests but, once it was done, Father Enrique felt rather pleased that it had happened. The head man then led Father Enrique to a waiting group and introduced him. His wife and three children all followed their father’s example and kissed his hand which Father Enrique allowed as he had decided that these were simple people, uneducated in the ways of Mother Church. To them he must seem as important as the bishop had been when he visited San Juan. He went on to be introduced to several other important men of the village and their families. All of them followed the head man and his family’s example and Father Enrique graciously but humbly allowed himself to submit.

  While this ceremony of welcome was being carried out Maria and José, the sacristan, were taken to the hut which Father Enrique would occupy. By the standards of San Juan it was a poor place, no more than a three-roomed, thatched building with walls of dried mud, but by the standards of the village it was the best accommodation available. Despite the best efforts of the two policemen to become involved by standing with their rifles held across their fronts as if to protect the priest’s party from a surging mob, everyone ignored them and after a while, accepting that they were completely redundant to what was going on they wandered off to sit down in the shade and rest. They had done what was expected of them. Now there was nothing more to do except pass the time as best they could until the return journey.

  Father Enrique, during the welcome, had scanned the faces in the crowd that had turned out to welcome him but nowhere did he see Carmen. What he did notice, however, was the absence of young men. Those men who were present were middle aged or old. When the formal introductions had been completed he turned to the head man.

  ‘Is this all the people of the village?’

  ‘Almost. A few women are busy preparing food for your Eminence.’

  Father Enrique ignored the misuse of the title even though it promoted him from bishop to cardinal.

  ‘I see. And the young men, where are your young men?’

  The head man turned and looked at the two policemen who were now sitting in the shade of a hut smoking. He lowered his voice although there was not the remotest chance of anything he said being overheard by the two officers.

  ‘Away.’

  ‘Away doing what?’

  The head man gave Father Enrique an odd look.

  ‘In the mountains, Father.’ The head man saw that even further explanation was necessary so he drew slightly closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. Had either of the two policemen been watching their suspicions would have at once been aroused but as they were more inclined to doze than maintain any sort of vigilance they saw nothing. ‘With the revolutionaries, Father, with General Sakay.’

  Father Enrique stiffened and moved away slightly. General Sakay and his forces were not something he wished to know about nor become involved in and he tried to make it clear in both his tone and manner.

  ‘I see. Well, no matter, now I will eat and rest then I will begin hearing Confessions.’

  ‘We had hoped that you might begin with baptisms. There are so many young children.’

  ‘Indeed, and how is that if your young men are all away in the mountains?’

  The head man gave an apologetic smile.

  ‘They were not always away, Eminence, and they slip back when they can. They are fighting for our freedom but they are also men so we let them know when it is safe and they come in small groups for a few nights to see their women and then, nine months later, the babies arrive.’ He shrugged. ‘It is not as we would wish it nor as the Church would wish it, I know, but God made us as we are and the Americans make us as we must be, so we do the best we can.’

  ‘All the more reason, then, to begin with Confessions. Outside of the marriage bed sex is always seriously sinful, mortally sinful. As a good Catholic and as head man you must know that and not make excuses.’

  The head man gave way at once; whatever happened the priest must not be upset or opposed.

  ‘You are right, of course, Eminence, we will begin with Confessions when you have eaten and rested.’ He summoned a woman from the crowd which had remained standing at a respectful distance in silence. ‘This woman will show you to your meal and give you hot water to wash. When you have eaten and rested we will be waiting here and you can begin.’

  ‘Make sure everyone has a rosary. We will begin with all three decades and then I will preach a sermon on the weakness of the flesh, the fires of Hell, the need for repentance, and the mercy of God and his Church. After that I will hear the Confessions of those who have already been baptised.’

  ‘And those who have not been baptised? There are many of them.’

  ‘There is no need. I will perform baptisms tomorrow morning after I have said Mass and those I baptise will automatically have all their previous sins forgiven.’

  ‘Of course, I had forgotten.’

  ‘In the afternoon there will be the marri
ages …’ but he remembered that there would be women and children but no men. The head man, he noticed, had also remembered. He thought quickly. ‘You as head man will, of course, stand proxy for the absent grooms. It will be enough if the correct name is given at the right time.’

  The head man grinned. The problem of absent grooms had given him much worry but now this clever young priest had found a way. He was both grateful and impressed.

  ‘It shall be as you say, Eminence.’

  ‘Good, then the next day, as everyone will be in a state of grace, I will say Mass and distribute Communion.’

  ‘Wonderful; truly you are a holy gift from God.’

  Father Enrique, though he rather agreed with the man’s observation, ignored it.

  ‘Now I will go to my meal.’

  And he was led away to hot water, food, and rest.

  The Confessions began with praying the rosary and everyone regardless of age or health knelt on the hard ground while the prayers were intoned. The slow, repetitive chant of the prayers went on into the gathering gloom of the setting sun and as the light faded a bonfire which had been prepared was lit. By the time the last decade of the rosary had been said it was dark. Father Enrique stood and in the fantastical light of the blazing bonfire began his sermon on sin, death, Hell, and eternal damnation

  It was a great success.

  He had preached the sermon several times before and each time honed and polished it until now it was a thing of beauty. He spoke well and easily of carnal sin, of how a woman had brought temptation into the world, how Eve had led Adam into disobedience and caused all subsequent mankind to suffer pain and death. He explained how all women since Eve carried her mark, the mark of temptation which was their bodies. Women tempted men with desire and men, being weak like Adam, allowed themselves to be led into sin and through sin to the everlasting fires of Hell which were so much more fierce than the fire they could all see and feel burning briskly in the darkness.

  The people sat, listening, enthralled by the words, the images, and the yellow light of the flames which lit up those who sat nearest and was then lost in the blackness beyond the edge of the crowd. It was the perfect background as Father Enrique moved on from the sinfulness and shame of women’s bodies to the terrors of Hell and damnation. For the villagers, young and old alike, it was something almost miraculous and they sat, rapturous, as Father Enrique painted images in their minds. If they had been the richest in the land attending some great theatrical performance in Manila’s finest theatre they could not have been more engrossed.

  Finally, and sadly for the listeners, Father Enrique came to the end of his sermon and announced that he would now start hearing Confessions. The people stood up and the leading men marshalled them into some sort of order, beginning with the oldest. A seat was brought for Father Enrique and the first penitent, and old man, bald, and with a white beard, came forward, knelt and began to recite the sins of thirty-five years. That was when he had made his last journey with his wife and family to San Juan Bautista to have his second child baptised and taken the opportunity to confess. There had been three more children since his second but none had made the journey to San Juan. It was too much for his wife and the growing number of little ones. Tomorrow his children, together with their grandchildren and one great-grandchild and its mother would be brought fully into the loving arms of Holy Mother Church.

  Father Enrique, as he sat and dispensed mercy and forgiveness, was slightly disappointed that the sins of so many people over so many years differed hardly at all from the ones he heard each day in his own Confessional. He soon lost interest and processed the flow of sinners almost automatically until, after several hours and dead tired he blessed the last one who crossed herself, rose, and left him.

  None had been Carmen.

  With stiff legs and a pain in his back he stood up. The fire had burned low but still gave enough light to see his way back to the hut in which he would sleep, and how he wanted to sleep. As he walked across the hard earth he heard voices suddenly raised followed by coarse laughter. It seemed to come from the shadows near a hut just beyond the edge of the firelight. The laughter sounded like men but the voices were women. Both, however, told him that the group had been drinking. Father Enrique walked on, uninterested, though a little disappointed that his sermon on sex, sin, and hell had obviously not touched all of the villagers. Suddenly, as dying fires will, the bonfire spurted into renewed life and the shadowy scene brightened for a moment. There were two men, the policemen, and sitting with them two young women. One of the women looked round at Father Enrique as he passed and he saw her face clearly. It was Carmen. She was sitting close to one of the officers who had a hand resting on her skirt. Father Enrique stopped. She looked at him then she turned away, back to the policeman, and said something. The officer looked past her at him and laughed, a slightly drunken laugh.

  Father Enrique walked on quickly, leaving the voices and the laughter behind him. All the way on the journey from San Juan he had wondered whether Carmen would come to him, whether tonight, after he had been a good priest to the village, they would lie together and he would be a good man with her. It was why he had arranged to come to the village; he was sure she would understand that. Now his hopes lay in ruins around him, he knew that if she came he would reject her. His sermon might be nothing but empty words to her but to him it now seemed filled with a new force, one born of a bitter awakening. Women indeed had the mark of Eve and men had the curse of Adam. Men could not resist when they were offered the apple, the soft body, the round breasts, the caressing hands, and the smile that drew you into a sin so deep that you lost yourself in it and, in losing yourself, lost your immortal soul.

  He saw her now for what she was, a harlot, a thing of the devil, spawn of Eve. He almost blundered into the house and, ignoring Maria and the sacristan, found the bedroom where earlier, after his meal, he had rested. An oil lamp burned on the floor next to the bed. He pulled off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and looked down at his penis. It was firm and erect. He knew what she was but his body still wanted her. He lay down, not knowing what to think or what to do. Would she come? Did he want her to come? Would he reject her? As his emotions struggled nature took control. He was tired, deeply tired, and almost immediately the thoughts of Carmen faded into a blur of confused sexual images blended with visions of hell from the many pictures he had seen on the seminary walls and in the books he had studied, until finally sleep came, a troubled sleep, but rest nonetheless.

  In the living room the sacristan and Maria sat at a table by the light of an old, smoking oil lamp. They had been talking, waiting for Father Enrique’s return. Now they sat in silence looking at each other, both knowing something was wrong but neither wishing to acknowledge it. Finally the sacristan spoke.

  ‘It was a good sermon. The people enjoyed it. They went away happy.’

  Maria nodded.

  ‘Yes, but he didn’t make any arrangements for payment before he started.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I told him it must be the first thing, told him more than once on the way here but his mind seemed elsewhere.’

  ‘He is a holy man, he doesn’t think of worldly things.’

  Maria gave him an ironic smile.

  ‘Is that what you think? That things of the flesh don’t seem to concern him?’

  ‘Yes. All the way here he seemed far away, probably thinking about how much the people needed him.’

  ‘Or how much he needed the people, one of the people anyway.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  Maria realised she had said too much. She was tired and now, because she had let something slip, she was angry.

  ‘It means that if he asks for his money tomorrow the head man will be able to pay less because they’ve had Confession and the sermon for nothing. And if he pays less we get less.’

  ‘True, but what can we do? It is for the priest and the head man to arrange such matters.’

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p; ‘Is it? Well, things will have to be different this time. I haven’t come all this way for a few pesos. Tomorrow I will speak to the head man.’

  The sacristan was impressed and relieved. She was a strong woman and she might be able to drive a good bargain.

  ‘That will be good; someone needs to look after him. He is too holy and thinks the gifts of God and the Church can be given away free.’

  ‘Yes, but even holy men must eat and to eat one has to buy food and food costs money.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Well, he’s in bed now so we might as well get our rest. It will be a dawn start tomorrow.’

  ‘But you’ll speak to the head man tomorrow morning about our payment.’

  ‘Yes.’ The sacristan paused, unsure what to do. The only other room was a small cooking area, too small and too full to be used for sleeping. Other than that there was only a small, rough, lean-to shed at the back of the hut where firewood was kept. One of them could sleep comfortably here in the main room and one of them must sleep in the shed. By rights of course, as the man and the sacristan, he should be the one to sleep in the hut, but he wanted to avoid antagonising Maria. He shared her view that God’s gifts should not be given away free. What people didn’t pay for they didn’t value, not even having a proper altar server at the priest’s side at Mass. He also knew that he could never bring himself to negotiate with the head man but if Maria did it his payment might well be decided by her rather than Father Enrique. It was a difficult situation. He didn’t want to upset or provoke her in any way but on the other hand he had the dignity of himself the Church to consider. As it happened, however, the dilemma was solved for him. ‘Now go and put your mat outside the doorway and sleep across it.’