Note: this is the prologue of an as-of-yet unpublished
book
A limousine turned off the highway to a town road by the sea. It was about
sundown and the sweltering heat was still in its fury. Though the dull breeze
from the ocean helped a little to cool off the town, it was still humid and hot
perspiring afternoon.
The car zoomed past the town proper and stopped in front a church. It was the
church of the parish of San Gabriel. The chauffeur got off and opened the
backside door. A man in his late years slowly came out and walked towards the
entrance. He entered the church and looked around. He was alone. He found the
wooden statue of San Gabriel at the side altar. He came near and with a shaky
hand, placed his palm on the altar with his eyes on the face of the saint.
"It was here," he mumbled. "A life time ago."
He turned around and sat on the nearest pew. He remained motionless. A vivid
recollection was playing in his mind. There were tears in his eyes.
"Yes, it was here," he repeated softly.
He heard echoes of footsteps. He turned his head. He saw a priest approaching.
"I am Father Caral. Could I be of help?" the priest asked.
"I am Isidro Sebastian."
Father Caral.s eyes suddenly grew wider.
"The other side of the legend," he whispered.
It was at this moment when a car suddenly stopped behind the parked limousine.
An elderly man and a woman hurriedly went inside the church. They saw Father
Caral talking to Isidro. They hastily came near and embraced Isidro tightly.
They wept while they were in each other's arms
"Is it really you, Pablo?" Isidro asked as he wiped his tears away.
"Yes, its me and my wife, Quiria," replied Pablo.
"I'm so happy to see you, Quiria."
"Is your wife with you?" Quiria asked.
Isidro paused for a moment. He slowly raised his head and looked again at the
statue of San Gabriel.
"There was only one Manuela," Isidro said gently with sadness on his face. .I
am not married.
"The story of Manuela is a legend," said Father Caral. "It's well known in
town."
"And it's also blown out of proportion," interrupted Pablo. "There are even
stories of people seeing Manuela strolling down the beach during full moon."
"What was it like Isidro?" Father Caral changed the topic. "How does it feel to
squarely draw guns against Colonel Braganza?"
Isidro gave Pablo a blank look. He was bewildered. He did not understand what
the priest said.
"There are stories and I'm curious to know it from you," Father Caral
continued.
Isidro ignored the priest. The dried red stains under the laminated surface of
the altar caught his attention. He examined it closely.
"Is this possible?" he asked
"It's the same altar," Pablo explained.
"This is her blood?"
"On that very day," assured Pablo.
"After all these years?"
"We rebuilt the church with the condition to preserve the original altar and my
sister's blood," stated Quiria.
"It was our way of providing proof that Manuela.s story is not a fairy tale,"
added Pablo.
Isidro laid his hands over Manuela.s blood. He remained quiet. He bowed his
head while pressing his hands tightly on the altar.
"Was I wrong, Pablo?" Isidro asked in a low voice. "Was it an error in
judgement? Was it a mistake to break the status quo?. Was I to blame?"
"No, my friend. It was not your fault. No one was to blame," Pablo answered as
he gently held Isidro by the shoulder. "It was a violent time. A different
time. Our country was then a cradle of heroes. We believed that it was for the
motherland."
"Cradle of heroes? Motherland? " Isidro questioned softly.
"It was for the country," attested Pablo
"Was it, Pablo? I almost killed you."
"You were in a fit of rage. You were not in proper frame of mind. With the same
condition, it could happen to anyone," Pablo replied.
"And Colonel Braganza?"
"He deserved it."
"In cold blood?"
"I would have done it myself," said Pablo.
"Son," again Father Caral pleaded with Isidro. "Tell me what happened?"
.Yes, Father. For the record," said Isidro. "This was how it happened."
Isidro was searching for a phrase to start. He scanned the church with his
eyes. He saw the wall clock.
"Yes, the clock," he recalled. "It was a long time ago."
