By ELSA MARTINEZ COSCOLLUELA

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Carlos Santamaria is about  65  years old with strong facial features and graying hair. A man of a few words, he exudes an air of quiet authority, and although he moves about with the help of a walking  stick, soundlessly dragging  a bad foot which  has been partially paralyzed by a stroke, he has retained an aura  of  strength about him. 

Amanda is about 60 years old.  She is one woman who has grown to maturity with grace and refinement. 

Miguel, the eldest son, is about 35 years old. A practising lawyer, he is reserved, quiet and thoughtful and speaks with deliberation. He gives the impression of a man  who would pursue an ideal even against all odds. 

Isabel, Miguel’s wife, is about 33 years old. She is gentle, affectionate and amiable, obviously convent-bred. As a  wife she  regards her husband as the head of the family,  the decision-maker,  and is quite content with her role as a dutiful wife and mother. 

Franco is about 33 years old and is more gregarious than his older brother. He is open  and  aggressive, frank  and pragmatic, and his manner suggests that he can be obstinate. As the politician in the family he recognizes the  need  to reach  practical  decisions in contrast to Miguel who is  an idealist. 

Cristy,  wife  of  Franco, is 27 years old. She  is  self-confident, knowledgeable, independent and outspoken, yet  she is   also  sensitive  and  intuitive. There is a sharp distinction between her personality and that of Isabel’s, for whereas Isabel is reticent and  submissive, Cristy has realized  herself as a woman well ahead of her times, having been brought up by American professors at the University. 

Benito, the family bookkeeper and Man Friday, is about  the same age as the two brothers. He is quiet and  unobtrusive, loyal and dependable.

SETTING 

The  scene shows a typical old house built along the lines of Spanish  architecture as modified in the Philippine setting. Upstage, at stage center is an arch revealing further back a foyer. At left of foyer is the main door. Opposite this door is a foyer table on top of which  are  found  several antique figures of saints in various stages of dismemberment. Above the table is a looking glass hanging on the wall.  The arch  leads  to the stage proper.  On the walls to  left  and right of the arch are square windows with capiz shell frames. At stage right is a sala set made of lightly carved  hardwood and  wicker  comprising of a settee, two single chairs,  a  coffee table and a rocking chair. A gaily trimmed Christmas tree stands at far right corner.  On the wings at stage right are two doors which lead  to the bedrooms. At stage left is an oval dining table for six. Against the wall and under the window  is a long narrow buffet table  on which are found  a table clock and a constabulary hat. On the wings  at  stage left  is a door which leads to the kitchen and service  area. A lamp hangs from the ceiling.

ACT 1 / SCENE 2 

Date:  June 16, 1942
Time:  8:00 P.M.
Place:  Santamaria Home

At rise, Benito  and Emilio  are  in  the living room, closing the shutters. It is raining outside, and the wind is howling. Benito sets a tray of coffee and coffee cups on the table.

BENITO

Emilio, you better finish up.

EMILIO

I’ll be through in a minute.

BENITO

Did you take out the plants in the master’s bedroom?

EMILIO

Yes, I did.  Benito, do you know that Ma’am Isabel was crying this afternoon?

BENITO

Crying?  Why?

EMILIO

I’m not sure, but I think it’s because she’s afraid Sir Miguel might join the guerillas.

BENITO

What makes you think that?

EMILIO

Oh, I should know.  I overheard them.

BENITO

(In a reprimanding tone)  Emilio, I know that  Senorito Miguel  is almost like a father to you, taking  you  in and sending you to school when your own parents died  a a  year  ago.  But you should show  some  respect.  You shouldn’t eavesdrop on private conversations.

EMILIO

(Mischievously) Look who’s talking. Benito, I swear you eavesdrop on everyone in the family.  Why, I’m sure you know everything that goes on in this house.

BENITO

(Slightly offended) The family trusts me—and that is because I know my place.  So, if you intend to remain a ward of this family, I advise you to know your place—and stop this business of listening in on everyone. It’s impolite, you know.

EMILIO

Oh,  I know my place alright.  And you know where  that is?   With Sir Miguel—when he joins  the guerillas. I’m  going to learn how to shoot and then I’ll kill so           many  Japs they’ll wish they never set foot here.

BENITO

You  don’t even know how to load a gun, much  less  aim it.

EMILIO

That’s what you think.

BENITO

You haven’t been fooling around with Senor’s gun,  have you?   If the Japanese know we have some  weapons  here we’ll all end up dead in the plaza.

EMILIO

You’re not talking to a small kid, you know.

BENITO

Alright, young man.  Take those plants out.

EMILIO

(With a mock salute)  Yes, Sir.  Right away, Sir.

(Carlos enters. He surveys the room, then sits on his rocking chair. He draws his cardigan about him.  He is followed by Amanda, also wrapped in a heavy shawl)

AMANDA

It’s cold in here. Is coffee ready, Benito?

BENITO

Yes, Senora.  Is there any thing else you need?

AMANDA

No, this is fine.  Go have your dinner now, Benito.

CARLOS

And bolt all the doors.

(Benito  nods, exits through the kitchen.   Miguel  and Isabel  enter  from the bedroom, joins  Amanda  at  the table.  Amada presides over coffee)

AMANDA

I  hope this  is still good—it’s  the  third  brew. (Isabel brings a cup to Carlos)

CARLOS

Thank you, Isa.  (Sipping)  It’s  still good, Amanda.

AMANDA

Oh, you’re just getting used to weak coffee.

MIGUEL

It’s better than nothing.

(Franco enters, dragging his bad leg. He is followed by Cristy, who carries a medicine basket.  He sits on  one of  the  single chairs, stretching out his  leg,  while Cristy  sits  on  the floor beside  him,  dressing  his wound)

AMANDA

How is your leg, Franco?

FRANCO

Almost as good as new.

CRISTY

It’s healing well enough.

AMANDA

(To  Miguel)   Who were those men you were  talking  to this morning, Miguel?

MIGUEL

(Trying to sound casual)  Oh, some people from my unit.

AMANDA

What did they want?

MIGUEL

(Indifferently)  Oh, nothing important.

CARLOS

You better be careful with whom you are seen. You  have surrendered.  You  very  well know you  are  all  under surveillance,  Miguel.   Be careful you do  nothing  to arouse suspicion, or you’ll end up  in  Channon Hall.

ISABEL

They say many of those who have been taken there have not been seen alive again. Is that true? They say they are burying people behind Channon Hall at night. 

CRISTY

It’s hard to believe they would turn that building into a torture chamber. One of my closest friends used to live there, you know. You remember Sarah Thorndike, Isa?  She also teaches literature.

ISABEL

The blonde?  Yes.

CRISTY

(Nodding)  And the spectacles.

ISABEL

Lovely girl.

MIGUEL

The  campus does not look the same.  That was the first thing   that  caught  my  eye  the  moment  we   docked the  other day. A troop of Jap soldiers marched out  of the portals to take us in.  It seemed bizarre.

CRISTY

Now  it’s crawling with those villains.  And  to  think that  just  last  March  the  campus  housed  President Quezon,  Vice  President  Osmena,  and  their  military escorts  for a few days.  Little did we know  that  the President  was then being evacuated from  the  country. When  news  of  the President’s  presence  reached  the American  professors,  they all came  down  from  their to see him and ask him about the  war. 

ISABEL

We even heard that General MacArthur himself was  here. You can just imagine our excitement.

CARLOS

We were told that aid was forthcoming.  We believed it.

AMANDA

We could hardly believe our eyes when a few weeks later, two Japanese transports anchored at the pier.

CARLOS

One  of  the  first  things they  did  was  to  declare Silliman University a property of the Japanese Imperial Government, and proceeded to set up their  headquarters at Guy Hall.

CRISTY

They made  the dormitories their barracks, and  Channon Hall the headquarters of the Kempetai.

ISABEL

I  happened to be here on a visit when they  came.   We were  terrified.  I couldn’t go back to Santa  Catalina because  they wouldn’t allow anyone to leave the  city. We all had to register ourselves at their headquarters.

CARLOS

You should  have seen them strut  around  like little conquerors.  They summoned the governor and  mayor  and urged  them to  continue in office. For many  days Governor Villaluna  reported  each  morning to the Japanese headquarters. Then one day he   just disappeared. Benito later heard that he and his family had fled to Guihulngan—he was probably afraid  for his three daughters.

ISABEL

They say the Japanese soldiers are raping women.

CARLOS

Then  they  called  on the other officials, recruiting them  to  form  their  government,  but  many  of  them declined, as I did when they called on me.

ISABEL

Nobody wants to have anything to  do with them.

FRANCO

They’ve  had  much  success  with  the  Manila  people. Vargas,  Roxas,  Laurel, Recto, Aquino—the  list is endless.

CRISTY

Well, I suppose some people have to hold the reigns  of government.

ISABEL

This is dreadful!  What is going to happen now?

CARLOS

We don’t have much  choice except to conduct  ourselves in  a  manner that would allow us to survive.   It’s  a waiting game now.

AMANDA

You mean there is absolutely nothing we can do?

CRISTY

Oh,  it’s just  a matter of time, Mother.   The  United States will liberate the Philippines.  I have no  doubt about that at all.

ISABEL

The city is crawling with Japanese patrols.  You can’t even  visit sick relatives without getting a pass  from the  High Command, if it is at all possible  to  secure one.  And those drills!  It’s driving everyone crazy!

CARLOS

The  best thing is to stay in and not get  in  anyone’s way.

AMANDA

Oh,  you say that so easily.  But how  is  it  possible when  everywhere  you turn you  see  Japanese  soldiers watching your every move?  Sometimes I look out of  the window  at  night and I see their shadows down  at  the corner, watching this house.

MIGUEL

We are all under surveillance.

AMANDA

I can feel them watching us night and day.  I sometimes wake  up wondering  when they would  just arrest us for one reason or another and lock us  up like some of  the others.  It is terrible.  Mrs. Avena told me they  took her  son yesterday for interrogation.  No one has  seen him again!

CARLOS

Didn’t she inquire at the Japanese headquarters?

AMANDA

How could she?  She suspects they have killed him,  and she is scared to death.

ISABEL

Rafael?   Rafael Avena?  He  was in your  unit,  wasn’t he, Mig?

MIGUEL

Yes, he was.

ISABEL

But he surrendered just like the rest of you.  Why  did they take him?

MIGUEL

I don’t know. It could be for sundry reasons. Like violating curfew, for instance.

ISABEL

I tell you the Kempetai is killing people.   Everyone’s whispering  about it. 

AMANDA

And there’s nothing we can do, nothing at all.   (After a pause)  I wonder—I wonder how Carlito is—

CARLOS

Oh,  he’ll be released in due time.  Miguel and  Franco are back. Carlito will be home before we know it.

AMANDA

But why  hasn’t he been released yet?  It’s been  weeks since  we’ve  lost  the war.  You  are  back  but  your brother is still out there.

MIGUEL

(Matter-of-factly) The Luzon Forces that  surrendered in  Bataan and Corregidor, were taken prisoners of  war and  detained at Camp O’Donnell.  We did not  catch  up with  them, otherwise  we would  have ended  up at Camp O’Donnell too. 

FRANCO

(Thinking aloud)  We were lucky we did not get to Luzon until March.

CRISTY

But you left here New Year’s Day!

FRANCO

Yes,  but  in Cebu we underwent a week’s  training.  We were  divided into several companies, each leaving  for Luzon  on  different days. We reached Batangas on  the second week of March. By then the situation in  Bataan had  turned critical.   When General Wainwright surrendered, we decided to just turn back. We  knew somehow it was coming.

AMANDA

(Worried) You did not get any word at all about Carlito?

MIGUEL

Just unofficial news that they would be released in due time.

AMANDA

I don’t really know if I should believe that or  not. I’m  afraid  that if I believed it completely,  and  it doesn’t happen—

FRANCO

(With conviction)  But it will, Mother. Carlito will be home. What  would  the Japanese  do  with  all  those prisoners of war?  At the moment they are quite  intent upon  establishing  a  better  relationship  with   our people. Surely  they know that one way  to  gain  our sympathy would be to send our soldiers home. 

AMANDA

(With  deep anguish) But what if something happened  to him?  How would we know?

CARLOS

Remember  this, Amanda.  Our boy is alive, and he  will come home alive.

AMANDA

(Responding, as if waiting only for this assurance) You are such a good man, Carlos, to keep telling me  that. And I need you to tell me that all the time, each  time a  dark thought crosses my mind.  God knows there  have been many such thoughts gnawing at my sanity ever since Wainwright surrendered.

MIGUEL

(Thinking  aloud) I did not seriously believe it  would come to that. 

CRISTY

Neither did I.

FRANCO

(Annoyed)  You think he shouldn’t have surrendered?

MIGUEL

I don’t know.  Perhaps not. 

FRANCO

I  don’t think  the man had any choice.  It was  not  a matter of choice.

MIGUEL

It was a matter of choice.

FRANCO

(Agitated)   If you were in his shoes, would  you  have acted differently?  Is that what you mean?

MIGUEL

Perhaps.

FRANCO

(Pressing) You  would have sat it out in  Bataan  and Corregidor despite the fact that you had a  starving, sick, demoralized and unequipped army?

MIGUEL

(Irritated)  I do not know.

FRANCO

(Beginning  to  be  angry)   Then  look  at  it  as   a hypothetical question, Professor!  Assume for a  moment that  you were in Wainwright’s shoes.  What  would  you have  done?  Would you have ordered your men to sit  on their  haunches in those godforsaken foxholes and  wait for  the  bombs  to  blast  your  entire  army  out  of existence?   Or would you, like a wounded bull,  gather your  last breath for a final charge with  nothing  but your bare breasts and bravura?

MIGUEL

(Raising  his voice, exasperated)  I do not  know  what you  are  quibbling about!  I only said  I  thought  we should not have given up so easily!

FRANCO

(Outraged)   Given up so easily?  What the hell do you mean, so easily?

AMANDA

(Interrupting)   Now you stop this, both of  you!   You haven’t  done anything but get on each  other’s  nerves since  you came back.  If you  cannot  talk about  this stupid   war   without  shouting  then  do   not   talk about it!

CARLOS

Now,  Amanda, let them talk.  How would they  know  how the other feels about this if they didn’t talk?

AMANDA

(Shouting)   They aren’t talking, they’re shouting!

CARLOS

Alright, boys, your mother doesn’t want any shouting.

MIGUEL

Oh, forget it.

FRANCO

(Insistent, as though pursuing a quarry) No, I want  to talk  about it.  I want to talk this through  once  and for  all!  The trouble with you is you always sit  back in judgment like some kind of god!

MIGUEL

What did I say to cause such a fit?

FRANCO

(Slowly  and carefully) It insults me when you  say  we gave up so easily.

MIGUEL

All  I  meant was I felt  that  Wainwright  surrendered because at that moment it might have seemed  expedient, but  in the long run it might not have been  the  right thing to do.

FRANCO

(Caustic) You  insinuate  that  it would  have  been morally  right to go on fighting only to die, that  all those  men out there did only what was expedient? Oh, come  on, we were both there!  Was any of it easy?   We were  up  against  a  vastly  superior  enemy! Their artillery was backed up by dive bombers with  tons  of explosives  falling upon us while we scoured the  hills like  rats: hungry,  footsore, practically  unarmed! Line by line I saw our men just drop from  exhaustion. So  maybe  you had an easier time out there,  but  that doesn’t  mean you can go around thinking everyone  else had  it as easy as you did, that it was  therefore,  to your mind, sheer cowardice for anyone to surrender! 

MIGUEL

(Stung) Just because you got wounded in the  leg  you think you had the worst of it.  (A keen, savage thrust) Shit,  you  wear  your wound like it were  a  medal  of honor!

FRANCO

(Getting  up, with sudden harshness)  As indeed it  is! Jesus,  there you are, thinking there wouldn’t  be  any Jap  for miles around, suddenly the skies spit out  its bowels,  all you see are blinding stars  falling,  then nothing.  Just darkness.  A cold, dull, empty darkness, then  piece  by  piece you begin to  see  it:   mangled bodies, human flesh, limbs dangling from trees and  you           know where everybody’s gone!  Jesus, it makes me sick!

CRISTY

(In a low, grieving voice she reaches out to him, holds him  as he slowly sinks back into his chair)  We  never knew!

FRANCO

(In a dead, dull voice)  It wasn’t easy.

AMANDA

(With sudden tenderness)  We never knew. You never told us.

FRANCO

(Shaking  his  head, repeating  tonelessly)  It  wasn’t easy.

MIGUEL

(Slowly, with remorse)  I didn’t mean it that way.

ISABEL

(To  Miguel,  in a  despairing cry)   Please  stop  it. Please stop.

FRANCO

(Sadly  and  bitterly at first, then building  up  with savage  intensity)  They kept leading us on telling  us ammunitions  and  reinforcements were on the way as I imagine  they kept telling all those poor  bastards  in Bataan  that  Uncle Sam was on his way. Jesus, Uncle Sam! Well, the Japs were right there cutting our heads off and where was Uncle Sam? To America, this country is just an expendable pawn in its global strategy. A useful outpost  in  the  Pacific, but  by  no  means unexpendable. How  else could you  explain  America’s apparent indifference?  How would you explain the  fact that  even  before this war was  lost,  they  evacuated Quezon to Washington? Or that MacArthur  had  been recalled to Australia?

MIGUEL

(Emphatically) MacArthur’s  withdrawal   from   this country  does not signify that we are being  abandoned. On  the contrary, he is there to reorganize the  allied forces  in  preparation  for  the  liberation  of  this country.

FRANCO

(In   a  mocking,  ironic  tone)   Would  you  consider liberating  a  country  that  was  not  yet,  at   that time, already given up as lost?

MIGUEL

I   can  see  your point.  But to me it  is  just  like losing a skirmish to win the war.  I believe  MacArthur will return with a force strong enough to liberate  not only  the Philippines but the rest of the Pacific. As for  the evacuation of Quezon to Washington,  no  other move could have been as judicious as it was necessary.

FRANCO

How so?  It could only mean that even at that time  the Americans deemed the Philippine campaign already lost.

MIGUEL

It is imperative that the President of the Commonwealth should not fall into enemy hands.  Even with the defeat of  the  military forces  the  Commonwealth  government remains free.

FRANCO

What  does that matter now? The Japs have  organized  a government, and this government, whether we like it  or not, rules.

MIGUEL

But  don’t  you see? For as long  as  the  Commonwealth government  exists, albeit in exile, the occupation  of  this country does not have the same significance  under international  law  as if the government  had  actually been captured, or surrendered.  As long as this is  so, there  is  always the hope that this  country  will  be liberated.

FRANCO

(Exasperated) Jesus, how can you hold on to an  empty hope?   Despite  Roosevelt’s  public  declarations   of immediate  assistance,  there has been  no  attempt  to transport  aid to this country.  Our troops  languished in  Bataan  and  Corregidor,  but  did  America   care? America  is  perfectly safe and worlds  away  from  the battlegrounds. Besides,  saving  Europe   from   the clutches of Hitler seems infinitely more profitable, or  so  it would seem.  Obviously, we are left to  our  own resources.

MIGUEL

(With conscious superiority)  I cannot imagine how  you can deem the circumstances entirely hopeless.  We  have suffered  a  major setback, but this is by no  means  a total victory for Japan.

FRANCO

(Tauntingly)   I  see  that  Major  Anselo’s  ideas  of organizing  an  underground  resistance  movement   has caught fire with you.  The idea is well-intentioned,  I am sure, but in my opinion, misconceived.  And what  do you intend to call yourselves?  The Bolo Brigade?

MIGUEL

(Smarting) For as long as there are men who believe  in freedom,  there will be resistance and for as  long  as there is resistance, this war is not lost.

FRANCO

(Shortly) But the war is lost! You deceive yourself not to  believe  that to resist Japanese  rule  is  utterly impractical! It is futile to go on fighting a one-sided battle.  It is inhuman to forge the fight further  when doing  so  results only  in mass murder  and  senseless carnage.  This is one time when surrender is the better part  of valor, because there is no hope of  relief  in sight.

MIGUEL

(With  fierce determination, almost quixotic)  Whatever  this resistance might ultimately cost us—the lives, the  suffering, cruel as they might  be—all   these would be infinitely less painful  than enslavement  and economic  oppression. Despite  Homma’s declarations of  noble intent, Japan will bleed us dry or starve  us yet to sustain itself. Look at Manchuria!  Japan pumps its  oil  wells dry, a sheer case  of  power  politics, economic exploitation, and self interest.

FRANCO

(Sarcastically)  While America saves the world?

MIGUEL

Should that be necessary, yes!

FRANCO

(Savagely)  To hell with America!

MIGUEL

(With superior dignity) Christ, this whole conversation is ridiculous!

FRANCO

(With a contemptuous sneer) Nothing is more  ridiculous than your infantile faith and your blind bravura!

AMANDA

(Unable to bear it any longer, furiously) Stop it, stop it,  both of you!  You carry on like little boys! The way you talk I would not believe you fought on the same side.

MIGUEL

(Giving up)  This is absurd!  I’m going to bed. (He turns and leaves through stage right)

ISABEL

(Following  him, apologetic)  He’s—he’s very  tired. I hope you understand.  Excuse me.

CARLOS

Boys will be boys.

AMANDA

(Clearing the cups from the table, tired)  I don’t want any more talk about this.  This upsets me more than any of you can imagine.  (As she goes towards the  kitchen door  she stops, listens to the sound of boots  on  the staircase.  She turns to the others, alerting them)

CARLOS

It’s just the night patrol.

AMANDA

(In  a whisper, afraid)  They’re stopping. Dear God, I think they’re coming in!

FRANCO

Keep  calm.  (There is a knock at the door.)  I’ll  get it.  (He opens the door)  Captain?

HARODA

(Taking  a step forward, slightly bowing his head. He is  in his mid-thirties, refined and obviously  highly educated)  Good evening.  May I come in?

FRANCO 

(Apprehensive)  This way, please.

HARODA

(To his men outside)  You will wait for me.  (Entering, he bows politely at the ladies)  Good evening.  I  hope I am not intruding?

CARLOS

(Without  emotion)  Not at all, Captain.  Do sit  down. (Haroda  takes  a seat)  To what do I owe  this  honor, Captain?

HARODA

(With formal politeness)  No cause for  alarm, Sir.

CARLOS

I am glad to hear that.

AMANDA

(With  forced  cordiality) Coffee, Captain?

HARODA

You  are very kind, but no, thank you.  (Amanda  exits, making  a  sign to Cristy to do the  same, but  Cristy ignores  it.  He takes some papers  from  his  pocket, glancing at some notes casually)  I came to invite your son here to be the governor of this province.

CARLOS

(Looking  at  Franco)  My son has not  been  active  in politics  these  past  couple of years.   If  you  mean Franco.

HARODA

Yes,  Franco. Your  other  son  is  the  lawyer, the professor at the American university?

CARLOS

Yes.

HARODA

And one more son, a student of medicine?

CARLOS

A prisoner of war, Captain, at Camp O’Donnell.

HARODA

I’m sorry to hear that.  (To Franco) You  were  the mayor of this city three years ago?

FRANCO

(Guardedly)  That’s right.

HARODA

(Glancing  at  his  notes)  Yes,  right. You  were  a candidate for governor in the last elections?

FRANCO

(Sustaining a cordial tone with great effort) I lost my bid, as I am sure your dossier indicates.

HARODA

(Ignoring the remark) The Japanese Imperial  Government has  no intention of ruling this country.  We are  here only   to   emancipate  your  country from American imperialism. We are therefore helping you establish a government  responsive to your Asian identity and  your Filipino  needs. We  need  men  of  your  status  and credentials to run this government.

FRANCO

I’m afraid I am not the man you need.

HARODA

You   do  not  wish  to  participate  in  creating   an independent Philippines?  It is every patriot’s duty.

FRANCO

We  are  under the protection of the United  States  of America.   We are to be granted our independence  in  a few years’ time.  America is our ally.

HARODA

America is your enemy.  Japan is your ally.

FRANCO

(Shortly)  That, Captain, is a matter of opinion.

HARODA

Do you trust America?

FRANCO

(Despite himself)  Without question.

HARODA

What protection has America given your country?

FRANCO

(In a tight voice)  The blood of America is  upon  our soil.

HARODA

(With some wry humor, an effort to break the ice) Then God bless America.  You see, I have nothing  against America.  I was educated there.

CRISTY

(Curiously)  Oh?

HARODA

Yes, at MIT.  I spent four years there. An  excellent institution.

CRISTY

(Inquisitive) I hope you will not be offended  by  my curiosity,  Captain. But do you really think Japan’s presence here is right?

HARODA

It is Japan’s mission to liberate Asia.

CRISTY

But is it right that Japan should come to that decision unilaterally?

HARODA

I am a soldier of the Japanese Imperial Forces. It is not my prerogative to  question my government’s political policies.

CRISTY

(Sensing an advantage) But you’ve lived in a democratic country for years.  Surely  you  understand the American position as regards the Philippines?

HARODA

I have seen how it operates, yes.  But I am a soldier of the Japanese Imperial Government. (To Franco) As I was saying, Japan wishes to see a free government established in this country. When this  government becomes stable, Japan will grant it total autonomy.  We need men of your caliber to head it here.

FRANCO

There are others better suited for the job.

HARODA

We believe you are the man for the job. Your father here was the  governor for  many  years,  before  his election to the National Assembly, which he served for many terms before, ah— (he scans his notes)

CARLOS

My stroke.

HARODA 

Yes, right.  (To Franco) And you followed in his footsteps.  Your family has a strong political base. You have followers, sympathizers, people who await only your word.  You are the man for the job.

FRANCO

I do not want the job, Captain.

HARODA

(Leans back, eyes him keenly) I am sorry to hear that. But I ask you to think about it.  We will talk about this again.

FRANCO

I’m afraid you have wasted your time.

HARODA

Not entirely.  I have come for another matter as well.

CARLOS

What is it?

HARODA

The High Command, Major General Seshei has directed  me to requisition for this house.

AMANDA

(At the kitchen door) What?

CARLOS

Amanda.

HARODA

The High Command has chosen this house to serve as his residence.

CARLOS

Why this particular house, Captain? There are many other fine residences closer to your headquarters.

HARODA

(Rising, going to the window, looking out) This is the heart  of the city.  An ideal location. It faces the church, the townsquare, the public market and the terminal.  And it has a good view of the wharf.  This is a perfect place.

CARLOS

(With great effort) Very well. We shall vacate the house.

HARODA

That will not be necessary.  This is a very  large house. You are free to occupy part of it.

CARLOS 

(Flatly) That is most generous, but we are  ready to give it up for your exclusive use.

HARODA

For the High Command, you understand.  You own  the drugstore below?

CARLOS

Yes.  My other daughter-in-law is a pharmacist.

HARODA

Good. The High Command further instructed me to requisition for all the drugs and supplies you have. You are not to sell any more drugs to the public. Needless to say, the High Command shall write you a receipt for the house and the drugs, to be  redeemed by the Japanese Imperial Government.

CARLOS

As you wish.

HARODA

Oh, one last thing.  The Cadillac below—

CARLOS

Take it.

HARODA

You will get a receipt for it.

CARLOS

When will you need the house, Captain?

HARODA

As soon as the High Command returns from Manila.  In a week’s time.

CARLOS

We will be out before then.

HARODA

Please, that is not necessary.

CARLOS

I insist, Captain. I am sure the High Command would appreciate  having some—privacy—and freedom  of movement.

HARODA

Very well, since you insist.  (Again, bowing slightly, acknowledging each one of them)  Now that everything is settled, I bid you good  evening.  (He goes to the door, then turns to Franco before leaving) You will please see me at headquarters at 9 o’clock  tomorrow morning.  You will not fail.

FRANCO

Good night, Captain.  (Haroda exits)

AMANDA

(Distraught)   Oh my God, what shall we do?   What  are they doing to us?  They can’t do this to us!

CARLOS

There is nothing we can do.  (To Franco)  You will  see him tomorrow?

FRANCO

Do I have any choice?

CARLOS

(Regarding  him  keenly)  About going to see  him,  no. (Slowly   and  carefully)  But  as to   his   proposal, others  have declined, as I have, and we are  none  the worse for it.

FRANCO

You need not tell me that, Father.

CARLOS

(To Amanda)  Come, Amanda.  I am very tired. (He holds out  an  arm, and they  leave  through  stage right)

CRISTY

(She looks at him, anguished)  Franco, you’re not going to do it.

FRANCO

(In deep thought, troubled)  Do what?

CRISTY

Collaborate.

FRANCO

(Dully)  No.

CRISTY

(She eyes him keenly; he turns and they stare into each other’s  eyes, and he turns away)  Franco?  (A  slight pause)  Come to bed, it’s late.

FRANCO

Go head.  (He dismisses her with a curt wave of  his hand.  She turns and leaves, visibly hurt.  He remains standing for  a  while, then he sinks  into  a  chair, spreads  his legs out wearily, and puts his hands  over his face as lights dim and fade)

CONTINUED…

Elsa Victoria Martinez Coscolluela was born in Dumaguete City, where she earned her AB and MA for Creative Writing at Silliman University. (She was also Miss Silliman 1964.) Later, she was Vice President for Academic Affairs at the University of St. La Salle, and retired in 2010 after thirty-two years of service. Upon retirement, she was conferred the rank of Professor Emeritus and was designated Special Assistant to the President for Special Projects, a post that she continues to hold. During her term as VPA, she founded the Negros Summer Workshops with film Director Peque Gallaga in 1990, and the IYAS Creative Writing Workshop in 2000, in collaboration with Dr. Cirilo Bautista, Dr. Marjorie Evasco and the Bienvenido N. Santos Creative Writing Center of De La Salle University, Manila. She writes poetry, fiction, drama, and filmscripts in English. She has published a book of poetry, Katipunera and Other Poems. Several of her works have been anthologized. As a writer, she is best known for her full-length play about Dumaguete during World War II, In My Father’s House, which has been produced in Dumaguete, and in Japan, Singapore, San Francisco, and New York. She was inducted to the Palanca Hall of Fame in 1999 and is the recipient of several awards from the CCP, Philippines Free Press, and the Philippine Centennial Literary Competition. She continues to work at the University of St. La Salle where she manages several special projects and directs projects for the Eduardo Cojuangco Foundation.