Cora

I dreamed I was on the sampan in Balayan Bay. I was lying on my back, watching the sun as it moved in and out of the clouds. The oars were locked. I could hear my father humming as he cast his nets, the water lapping the side of the boat. Up on the hill, the bells of St. Francisco’s began to ring. Five o’clock. It was the alarm. I opened my eyes and tried to move, but my wrists were tied behind my back. I could not feel my arms. Then I remembered.          It was the thirteenth of July 1966 when it happened. I was 23. There were not enough dormitories for all the nurses, so they put some of us in houses not far from the hospital. Our house backed on to a park. That was the way the man came in, through the park at night. He pulled the screen out of the kitchen window, then reached round and unlocked the back door.       There were eight of us living there: Merlita, Valentina, myself, and five American girls. The Americans were kind and friendly to us, but I am sad to say we did not mix with them. We were shy and talked in our own language. The director of nursing, Mrs. Chen, was also a Filipino, and the American girls thought we were Mrs. Chen’s spies. Needless to say, this was not true.

 
    We had arrived only ten weeks earlier, and were struggling with our English, our classes, and our new way of life. Of course, we thought America was fine, dizzy, exciting and wonderful. The other girls seemed very sophisticated to us. In the evenings, they would go to clubs and bars, or stay out on dates. Yet they were still students, while we were trained nurses, on a salary. Valentina sent more than half her money back home. She came from Jones City, a hundred and fifty miles north of Manila, and her family was very poor.  But she had a promising future. She had two admirers at home that she wrote to—a doctor and a dentist. We joked with her about which one she was going to choose. She sent the dentist a record by Jerry Vale, There Goes My Heart.
     That will be my first and last gift to him, she said to us, when we teased her. The hospital jeep picked us up every morning at six thirty, and if we were late, we had to walk. We started work at seven and finished at three thirty, when the jeep would bring us home. Then the three of us would go to Grocerland to buy rice, fish, tomatoes, pineapple and spices. We made the only food we knew: paella, cocidos, torta, kare-kare. We had bought our own pots, pans and glasses out of our wages, because I am sorry to say the American girls were not clean. Dishes were supposed to be washed and dried within an hour of the meal, but if the American girls cooked, they often left dishes in the sink. Happily, they did not use the kitchen often. Mostly, they ate take-away food.
    That day, When Merlita and I got back from the hospital, Valentina was already in the kitchen, making pancit. We ate together, then, after washing the dishes, we went upstairs for a short nap. When we woke, around six, my friends watched television and wrote letters home, while I washed my uniform by hand in the upstairs bathroom. If our uniforms were not clean, we would earn demerits from Mrs. Chen.
    Merlita went to bed at ten fifteen, and at ten thirty I locked the door and followed her upstairs. I locked the bedroom door and was about to turn off the light, when Merlita asked me to wait a moment. She wanted to say her prayers. She knelt down by her bed in her white pajama shorts, while I climbed into the top bunk and drifted off to sleep.
    That night, I did not say my prayers.
    Why? I do not know.
    Perhaps I was not ready to die.


     We were woken by four knocks on the bedroom door. The light was still on. I looked at the clock; it was just after eleven. I got down from my bunk, unlocked the door and opened it a little. He pushed me inside, a tall man dressed in black, with a pockmarked face and a gun in his hand. He pointed the gun at me. Merlita was sitting up in bed, staring at us.
       Where are your friends? said the man, grabbing my arm. Come on. Show me where they are. You too.
       We led him to the large bedroom and he made us go through the door ahead of him. He did not turn on the light. Valentina was awake, and when she saw the man, she jumped out of bed and ran into the closet. I ran after her, and so did Merlita. We slammed the door closed. I grabbed the handle and held it tight. Inside, the three of us hid in the dark among nursing uniforms, party dresses, cloaks and hats. We took each other’s hands and prayed. We could not hear what was happening because there were two fans on in the room, making a noise.
    After a while someone turned off the fans and knocked on the door.
     It was the girl called Pat.
     He wants you to come out, she said. He’s not going to hurt us. He just wants money.
     She did not seem afraid.
    When we came out, the lights were on. The American girls were sitting in a row with their backs against the dressers.  The girl with the dark bobbed hair had come in from her bedroom. The man had his left arm around the waist of the big girl, and he told us to sit down. We were all in a line underneath the back windows that overlooked the park. Then he told the big girl to sit down as well, and he turned off the light. There was a small gap between the bedroom curtains.
    The man sat down with us on the floor, stretched out his legs, and started talking. He kept very close to the big girl. She was his favorite, I believe. I could not understand much of what he said. His voice was very soft. He had a crew cut, combed back, and his ears stuck out. I looked at his face very closely. And even though he had many pockmarks, I thought he was handsome, in a way.
    Before long, we got used to the dark. The light from the park allowed us to see one another. At that time, I thought he wanted money, nothing more. And I knew two of the girls were not there. I thought perhaps they had gone for help. If they had not done this yet, I thought that is what they might do, later on.
    The man smoked a cigarette. He talked to us and his voice was always gentle.
         How did you get in? asked Pat.
         Through the door, the man smiled.
            She laughed.
    He went on talking softly.
       I understood enough to know that he wanted to go to New Orleans. I recognized the name of the city even though I had never heard it spoken, I had only read it in books and magazines.
       Then he pointed his gun at each of us in turn, and asked us how much money we had. The American girls had small amounts—two dollars, four dollars, five dollars. Valentina, Merlita and I had more. I had ten dollars.
    Where is your money? he asked Pat.
    In my purse. There, on my bed. She pointed to her bunk.
    Get it for me, said the man.
    She got up, took the money from her purse and gave it to him. He was pointing his gun at her all the time. When she gave him the money, he moved the gun to his left hand and put the bills in his pocket.
    Next, he said.
    One by one, we gave him whatever money we had.
    Then he came to the girl with the dark bob. Her purse was in the other room.
    He thought about it for a moment. Then he said, Stand up, all of you.
    He pointed the gun at the girl with the bob, and told her to go and get her purse, and he made us all follow him. She led us into her bedroom, which was cool; it was the only room with an air conditioner. She took her purse from the dresser and handed him three bills. Then he led us all back into the back bedroom and told us to sit down in the same position as before.
     There was not a great deal of money, all in all. I wondered if there was enough for him to get to New Orleans.
      Then we all heard the back door slam, and we heard Gloria’s voice. She was calling Mrs. Bisone next door, to check in.
    The man looked nervous. He stood and walked up and down, with his gun in his hand. Then we heard Gloria running upstairs, singing to herself. The man went to the door, held the handle, and, when Gloria got close, he pulled the door open. She gave a little cry of surprise. He pointed his gun at her and told her to sit down with the rest of us.
           Do you have any money? he asked her.
       Sure, she said, opening her purse and taking out her wallet.
    Give it here, he said.
    Do you want coins, too?
       No, just bills.
        Are you sure? You may need to make a phone call.
      She did not fear the man. She spoke to him like a friend.