8

Adoption Papers

Lydia rose as usual at four-thirty a.m. to cut past the barn and hitch a

carabao to her flat wooden sled. With its runners in line and two empty

jugs secured, she rode to the spring. There, she used an empty bucket to

scoop water into the containers while planning the day’s events.

After returning to cook breakfast, she left the beast at the back of the

house. “It’s nice having you stay with me,” she said to Florencia as she

wakened her. She lifted the child into her arms. “Would you like to be

my little girl?’ Florencia’s nod made her smile. “I love you, you

know.”

The small girl was bashful and laid her head against the woman’s

shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 Lydia bathed and fed her young companion with care. “We’re going

to do something fun together before I leave the village today.” She took

Florencia outside to the water buffalo and set her on top. Once she

climbed behind, they rode for some time across the fields and down to

the pasture.

They stopped by the fence to see the red cattle up close.

Florencia watched while one calf galloped over to suckle from its

mother. “I like that one.”

Lydia agreed. “She’s strong one and will bear good stock once she’s

older. Would you like to have her for your very own?”

Florencia nodded and Lydia nudged the carabao on to where Gloria’s

husband, Antonio, repaired a fence.

The man promptly carried out his employer’s instructions, which

pleased the child. “Your little cow is special,” Antonio told Florencia

and branded it with her initials.

She smiled at the friendly man before Lydia took her and the carabao

back near the barn.

“It’s mid-morning,” Lydia mentioned when they climbed down to

the ground, “nearly ten o’clock.” She touched her head and taught

Florencia how to tell time by the sun’s light. “When our shadow lines

up with our body, then it is noon. That means it’s lunch time.”

Florencia mimicked the woman’s movements before they went to

prepare to eat.

That afternoon, when Lydia placed the girl in Maria Ramirez’ care,

she assured her she’d return after speaking with Gorio.

 Florencia understood and watched her caretaker leave for

Balatunang.

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Antonio accompanied Lydia in the wagon and spoke mostly of

plantation business throughout the ride. He drove the usual shortcuts

around other farmers’ rice fields only to arrive and discover Gorio’s

family gone.

“They moved toward Callang months ago,” stated Jose, “they’re much

closer to your home now.” He embraced Lydia. “I can’t believe you’re

here in the flesh; it’s good to see you.

“Yes, it’s been too long.”

“Mother misses your visits. You haven’t been here since.

 “It’s okay, Jose. It doesn’t bother me to speak about Florencio.” She

handed him a small burlap sack. “No one caught fish as big as you two

did, remember?” She chuckled. “You both were mischievous together

though.”

“Me?”

“Yes, remember the time you two hunted deer in the woods? You

sprained your wrist tripping over a log and said it was because you’d

wrestled a buck.”

“It could have happened--” Jose blushed. “--if the thing hadn’t gotten

away.”

“Everyone laughed for weeks because we all knew the truth.” She

touched his shoulder. “Seriously though, how are you and the family

holding up?”
 He shrugged. “We get along. You know the system. We sharecrop

to owe the landlord until we die, then our children do the same--some

legacy, huh?”

Her brow creased.

“I try not to complain. I have my health, right?”

“Yes, you do.” She looked about the small garden where he raked the

dry dirt. “It will get better when the rains come.” She hugged him

again before climbing back into her carretilla. “That sack contains

vegetable seeds. Plant them as soon as possible, okay?” She turned

from her friend’s grateful emotion to proceed north again.

After several stops and various directions, Antonio succeeded in

guiding their wagon to Gorios home.

 It was well past dark when the man came from the rice paddy. He

whispered something to Tarong and led Lydia to his father-in-law’s hut.

“We can speak privately here.”

She silently followed within the cramped quarters where the only

visible contents were rolled sleeping mats in one corner.

“Please sit,” Gorio insisted and offered a stool at the lone table. “You

ought to know we’re grateful for how generous you were with the

children on the other side of the province. They missed your treats

when you stopped visiting Florencio’s family.”

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“I often miss the children, too, but there’s much work to do on the
farm, and Florencio's situation took its toll on everybody. It was also

clear that we all needed to move on with our lives.” She paused.

“Speaking of children...

Gorio clasped his forehead after Lydia informed him of Florencia’s

whereabouts. “She made it all the way to Santa Cruz? Lydia, that was

close to six months ago.”

“Six months?” Her shoulders tensed. “You seem like a

compassionate man. Why would you let her run away--especially after

being injured?” She frowned when he lowered his eyes. “Did you

realize she most likely had a concussion?”

“I didn’t pay proper attention.” He swallowed hard. “What we did

was wrong, but times were difficult for Tarong and me. I lay awake

many nights hoping that ‘Encia would be safe.” He wrung his hands.

“Lydia, I don’t expect your sympathy, but I couldn’t let my wife leave
me. You have much to offer my niece--more than I could ever hope to

give.”

She nodded. “When Florencio was put to death, I prayed that I’d be

allowed to care for his child one day; he meant much to me.”

Gorio swallowed hard. “If I were able, I’d take Encia back, but I

doubt Tarong would after all this time. Guellerma still makes her angry

to this day and often brings us heartache.”

“I didn’t know your sister, but her hardhearted stubbornness was

evident the day she let Florencio die.”

He agreed. “She travels to and from Baguio whenever she’s had a

disagreement with her lover.” He sighed. “I wish she’d settle down--

find a good man to take care of her. She lost what little joy she ever had

after Flor was put to death. I’m sorry for her bitter state.”
 Lydia rose to stand by the window. “I can understand some of her

bitterness although it doesn’t make it right; Florencio told me

everything. I was confused and felt betrayed at first, but when it all came

down, I saw Guellerma broken and pregnant.” She faced Gorio. “I

couldn’t help but pity her more than myself.”

“Why would you feel sorry after what she did to you?”

“I suppose it was because I could thank God that I’m blessed. I have

a good life with good people tending my plantation. I even wondered if

Guellerma may have known Florencio longer than I had. She was

young and alone, and I only enjoyed his company a short time--” She

crossed her arms. “--enough of that now. I wonder what she’ll say about

my visit with you.”

“If you want ‘Encia, keep her. No one has to know about it. She
belongs in a good home.”

Lydia sat again. “I don’t want her illegally--I want to adopt her.”

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Gorios eyes widened.

“It would make me happy to raise Florencio's daughter as my own.”

“When Guellerma comes back again, I’ll speak to her about this.”

“Thank you, Gorio. That’s all I ask of you.” She shook his hand.

“In the meantime, I’ll go to Manila to draw up the necessary

paperwork.”
 Lydia returned home to prepare for departure and left Florencia once

again with Maria and her husband, Pablo. Then, she arranged to meet

her lady traveling companion in Callang.

Rosita Valdez was trustworthy and promptly boarded a cramped,

early bus with her for Manila. The bumpy ride south would last well

into the following morning with its overload of peddlers’ trunks and

chicken crates strapped to the vehicle’s roof.

Lydia disregarded any inconvenience despite her social stature.

In the city, the two women lodged with Rosita’s relatives, and the

following morning, Lydia rode to the Manila suburb of Paranaque by

city bus. Her close friend, Manuel Rojas, was the attorney she’d come to

see. Since he managed the plantation’s tax and legal affairs, she

requested he draw up adoption papers.

“This could take months, even years, to get through the court system,”
he informed her. “Did you bring the standard form of identification--an

infant’s bible with priest’s signature of baptism?”

She shook her head.

“Do you have the mother’s consent?”

“I’m working on it.”

Manuel’s eyebrows raised. “We need proof of birth.”

“Is there anything else we can use?”

“If Guellerma signs the permission form, she can validate the child’s

date of birth.” He sat her down. “It’s not legal, but the woman may

expect a sum of money. I can know nothing about it if you resort to

that.”
 Lydia shook her head. “I want to do this right. Somehow I’ll

convince her to relinquish rights and sign on the dotted line.”

“Good.” Manuel embraced her. “You’ll come to dinner at my house

before you go back, won’t you?”

“Of course, I miss visiting with you.”

He patted her hand. “We could always be together if you’d just agree

to marry me. As I’ve said before, you could move here permanently if

you employed a supervisor over the property. Many owners are doing

that now.”

She sighed. “What then? Do I throw parties each week to entertain

your coworkers and clients?”

39

He laughed. “It wouldn’t be like that. You’d do whatever makes you

happy. I just want to take care of you--of us.”

“I appreciate your patience, Manuel. The timing just isn’t right now.

You understand, don’t you?”

He smiled. “I understand, but you can be a stubborn woman.”

“My parents worked hard for what I have. I’m not comfortable

leaving it in anyone else’s hands.”

“Living with your people has kept you soft. You’re much too kind.”

He rubbed his chin. “Most tenants are lucky to receive about a fourth of

net gain from their landlords, and that’s before expenses are deducted.
You, on the other hand, sacrifice fifty percent along with providing

clothing and extras for your people.”

Her brow creased. “It makes me happy to do what I can. Besides, my

father taught me to keep the business prosperous by satisfying the

people.”

“I suppose you’re right, Lydia. Your people are loyal. They would

probably die for you if necessary.” He scribbled a note to himself to

review Lydia’s legal estate. The formal adoption could very well

convince her to change the status of her mansion, built to resemble the

Governor General’s Palace in San Miguel. The attractively large

structure’s first floor rose to a height of sixteen feet above any

conceivable flood waters that, along with more than two-hundred acres,

livestock, and other assets would need reassessing.

He then escorted her from his office to the main thoroughfare. “Tell
me you’ll reconsider a move. My practice thrives in the city.”

She shook her head. “I have much responsibility, as you do, too.”

He sighed. “Just know I’ll always respect your decision. You can

also count on me to visit the countryside whenever possible.” When he

watched her depart, he called after. “One day I’ll convince you to

change your mind!”

She grinned without turning around and continued on.

Maria introduced Florencia to the other village children, and the child

immediately drew to another girl her age, named Carmen Mendoza.

The two became comrades from the start and swapped chicks and piglets

that they’d chased and successfully caught.

Mornings were spent playing under Carmen’s hut, and several

afternoons, Pablo took the girls to ride the carabao as they pulled the

plows.
 By week’s end, Lydia returned. “I’m home, ‘Encia!” She thanked

Maria with a sheer embroidered scarf from the city and withdrew

40

wrapped wax from her cart. (She drove the cart to where she could

catch the bus.) “We can make candles.”

Florencia came running with open arms. “I learned to fan rice

today.”

Maria winked and nodded to the small heap of grain in the child’s

shallow basket. “The first time she tossed it to the breeze, she almost

got a face full of hay.”

 Lydia chuckled. “Rice was winnowed by hand in the old days. It’s a

good thing we have machines to come and do that part of the work for

us, but I’m proud of you, ‘Encia. You can help me prepare it for

dinner.”

Maria took her aside. “Lydia, we discovered another hog missing

yesterday. The men are saying that someone from a nearby village stole

it to give to one of the local missionaries.”

“I’m a firm believer in giving and sharing, but it’s sad to see people

misinterpret the need and resort to stealing to do so.” Lydia

immediately drew a Chinese war-dog manual from her purchases. “We

probably won’t ever find out where the hog went, but I plan to study this

to train Mr. English to protect the entire farm.”

“We’ll stop the thieves one day.”

 Lydia agreed and led Florencia to the outhouse closest to their home.

Inside, the child spotted the portable potty setting upside down over

one wood hole.

Lydia lifted it by the handle. “We don’t want to forget this.”

“So that’s what it’s for.” Florencia giggled when they carried it

back to the hallway in the house.

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