THE WIZENED FILIPINO at the wheel, Leo by name and slothful by nature, finally shrugged his shoulders.
“No good Boss! Too many people!” he exclaimed in doleful resignation waving a hand at the people milling past to emphasize his hapless plight. To be fair, Leo had done everything possible to cajole the car the last few blocks. Mounting pavements and using the wrong side of the road - something every Filipino driver was apt to do from time to time when driving in metro Manila - had not solved the problem. This time, the congestion had defeated even Leo.
“Sorry Boss!” Leo exclaimed again with an obsequious toothless grin. For once he meant it. Normally, it would be no skin off his nose if they were late. After all, the airport would still be there when they finally reached it. These foreigners were always in a rush to go somewhere, and, to his mind, life was far too short to be hurrying it along in this way. But, this time Leo was equally disappointed because today they were picking up the famous Captain Lewis. And he, Leo would get to drive him back to Forbes Park. Of course, he had been sworn to secrecy but surely it did no harm to tell his daughter.
“Okay, Leo!” Carlos said. “You stay with the car. I'll walk from here. You meet us at the airport entrance.”
“Right Boss!” Leo acknowledge with a further display of gums that masked his frustration.
A half mile away, Lechaim bid farewell to the pilot. “Thanks, Jay!” Lechaim said as the two men shook hands in the lounge area. “Not at all, Leck’um!” Jay responded. “My pleasure! Now, you look after yourself. Yah hear!”
With a final wave, the American disappeared through the lounge doors and back to the plane. Lechaim had tried to explain to the American that his name was pronounced, “Le kime!” but Jay had decided that Leck’um sounded better. It was amazing how many variations people thought up from Lechum to Leck’um, he mused. He then remembered what Monsignor Michael had told him. “It’s a Jewish name!” It seemed strange that his mother who was Catholic should choose a Jewish name for him. Yet another mystery that stemmed from his past.
He suddenly realized that his mood had changed and he put it down to the camaraderie he had found among the crew in the cockpit. Their easy manner and their complete irreverence for rank were very warm. Yet, it seemed to interfere in no way with their efficiency or the obvious respect they had for one another. The American way, Lechaim thought, had a lot going for it. The English style within its armed forces was more reserved and didn't promote the same camaraderie. Perhaps the British Army could learn a thing or two from its American counterparts, he concluded.
His mood was further enhanced by the magic that seemed to fill the air; that magic that comes from being in an exotic land where all was new and interesting. Manila International Airport in New Mia was spacious and modern which came as a surprise to him, bearing in mind the penury of the country. The many impecunious people thronging its entrance were evidence enough of that.
“Captain Lewis?” a voice behind him inquired. Turning, he found a short officious-looking Filipino staring up at him; the white barong he wore bearing the airport emblem on its breast pocket. These people were all so small, Lechaim thought as he gazed at the man. Now he knew how Gulliver would have felt.
“Yes, that's right!”
“Would you please come with me, Sir! I have your luggage waiting outside. It's already been checked through Customs for you!”
As they walked together, he found his steps slowing to match that of the other. Arriving in the airport reception area, Lechaim found his bags sitting on a luggage trolley awaiting attention. “Here you are, Sir! And have a pleasant stay in the Philippines!”
“Thank you very much,” Lechaim replied and watched the little man walk off. Perhaps he should have offered him something, but then again Lechaim had no Filipino currency on him. It was too late now anyway, he decided as he pushed the trolley with his luggage across the hall. The blazing sun beating through the large glass windows fronting the big reception hall gave colour and perspective to the vista before Lechaim's eyes, so foreign in every way, with its many brown faces and energetic purpose. Almost consciously he could feel himself relaxing as the languid atmosphere permeated through him. The dull ache in his stomach that had been a constant companion since Sinead’s death began to recede, and it was almost as though he had come alive again.
Pushing the trolley through the entrance doors and out onto the thoroughfare, Lechaim was amazed to find that the bustle taking place inside also spilled out into the airport access. The inside and outside of Manila Airport were a veritable hive of activity. Airports were always busy, he knew, but this one seemed particularly so. Everyone from hotel pimps touting their employers' wares to luggage carriers jostling for elbow room made up this conglomerate. In addition, a herd of itinerant Filipinos seemed to be thronging around aimlessly on the fringes of the entrance. Was it always like this he wondered? Lost in the headiness of the Orient, he was unaware of the woman standing near him saying insistently to her companion, “It's him I tell you!”
“Are you sure it’s not Elvis?” her male companion remarked, laughing at her foolishness. “Come on! Let’s grab a taxi! I could kill for a drink!”
The woman decided that her companion was right and tagged along after him as he went in search of a ride.
It took Carlos half an hour to make his way along Roxas Boulevard and breach the crowd gathered around the entrance. He spotted Lechaim by his sheer size alone.
“Lechaim, my friend. How are you?” he warmly proclaimed as both men embraced. He hated raising a topic so raw to the other man but he had to. “I can't tell you how sorry Eva and I are about Sinead!”
Lechaim felt his stomach knot again as he said, “I know my friend, I know!”
Carlos had resolved that it would be the last time he would make mention of her. If Lechaim wanted to talk about his dead wife, then Carlos would listen, but he would leave it to his friend to touch on the subject again. Both he and Eva were in agreement on this. Time, they knew, was the only healer when someone close dies. In Lechaim's case, he was strong enough to cope with his loss, but he didn't need to be constantly reminded of it.
The two men chatted easily as they waited for Leo to make an appearance and Lechaim lost himself in the warmth of their friendship.
“I didn't recognize you at first. It was only your height that alerted me. What have you done to yourself?”
Lechaim smiled ruefully. “You've no idea what being ...” he hesitated because he didn't want to say 'famous' - it made him sound big-headed so he said instead, “well-known means. I needed a disguise!”
Carlos looked long and hard at his friend and found that he had lost much weight. He was thinner in the face and his change in appearance overall made him seem like a stranger. Yet it was still the same old Lechaim although he could see how grief had ravaged him. As for his friend's words, he knew full well what being a celebrity meant. Carlos too had felt the attention of the media once his friendship with the famous Captain became known. Now as Carlos studied Lechaim, he was awed by the man before him; this man that had killed nine armed terrorists with nothing more than a sword. It had only been days before, that Eva and he had watched Lechaim receiving his Victoria Cross on world television. Now, here he was, a legend in his own lifetime, and their very dear friend.
“Unfortunately, Lechaim, like it or not, you're a famous man now!”
His words made Lechaim colour slightly.
Then Carlos joked, “How about an autograph!”
“Cost you!” Lechaim joked back and that's the way Leo found them shoving one another playfully on the pavement.
Leo was nervous, but then he was always nervous. This time, however, he felt that he had good reason to be. The man he was about to meet was the famous Englishman that he had seen on television. Being a Catholic country Lechaim's feat, because it involved the Church, had been widely publicized throughout.
“This is Leo, my driver!” Carlos said by way of introduction.
“How are you, Leo!” Lechaim said in a friendly manner and held out his hand.
Leo offered a limp paw and said, “Good! Sir!” and then he asked, “Any luggage, Sir?”
“There, Leo!” Carlos replied pointing to the three large heavy suitcases on the trolley nearby. As Leo went over to the trolley, Carlos could not help but wonder at Leo's change of manner. Leo had never called Carlos anything but “Boss” yet it now appeared that he did have a “Sir” in his limited vocabulary.
Retrieving the cases, Leo made a vain attempt to get the first up onto the lip of the boot.
“Let me!” Lechaim uttered as he plucked the heavy case from Leo's grasp and tossed it easily into the trunk. He then duly loaded the other two.
“Thank you, Sir! Thank you, Sir!” Leo was grateful and more. He was also impressed with the Captain's obvious strength. He had read about this man in the Manila papers at the time when Lechaim had become a hero and he was thrilled to be in his presence now. Face to face, Leo thought, Captain Lewis was everything that he had been made out to be, although he was different in appearance now. Filipino women would fall in love with his blue eyes, he suspected, and with the man's kind, handsome face.
In general, Leo hated God and mankind for making him who he was, putting him where he was, in the position that he was. In particular, he resented foreigners with their wealth and the best of everything. However, there was something about the Captain that Leo liked and it had nothing to do with his fame. This foreigner didn't seem to have the arrogance and overbearing that the others had. Also, Leo thought, the Captain spoke to him rather than at him. Yes, this was an exceptional man but then he already knew that.
“Forbes Park, Boss?” Leo asked Carlos when he was ready to drive off just in case his employer wanted to take a detour.
“Forbes Park please, Leo!” Carlos confirmed a little irritated that Leo still called him “Boss” and Lechaim “Sir”. Carlos was not a petty man, however, and soon dismissed his chauffeur's slight. After all, he had other matters far more important to consider.
As they drove through the city, Lechaim found Manila a place of contrasts. Some parts were modern and they could have been driving through almost any city in the Western World. In many quarters, however, makeshift houses of bamboo crowded together in a sprawling mass. The homeless simply camped inside large wooden packing cases or the like erected along the broken pavements at the sides of the roads.
What a way to live, Lechaim thought, and we think we have it rough on our side of the world, he reflected. The smells that this kind of poverty creates assailed Lechaim's nostrils through the wound-down car windows on either side.
“Good God! Leo. Would you please wind up the windows? The smell’s diabolical! “
Leo pressed the buttons on the console to one side of him and the windows slid up.
Lechaim was lost in his own thoughts now. Despite the eyesores at every turn, it seemed to him that there was an air of excitement about it all. The flashing smiles of the people seemed incongruous somehow, bearing in mind the conditions in which they lived, The disrepair of the many streets, the clamorous noise that hordes of people make, the malodorous smells that rose from the broken drains, the insistent beeps of the many vehicles as they fought the roads together, and all the other ingredients that went into this melting pot of humanity gave the city a life of its own. It had, it seemed to him, a vibrancy that few other cities around the world had. In truth, he had fallen in love again, but this time, it wasn’t with a woman, it was with a city, Manila!
Eva was waiting anxiously for them when they eventually arrived. Like her husband, she loved the big man and was looking forward to seeing him again, and yet she was apprehensive as well. She remembered how she had felt when Carlos had first gone away to the Malvinas as a young lieutenant. Then, like so many other young women in Argentina, she had been fearful that she would never see him again. Later, when he was invalided home, she was overjoyed that he had survived and so grateful to the man that had saved his life. Now, Lechaim, the man to whom they both owed so much, had suffered a terrible loss. What could she and her husband do to ease his pain? The maternal instinct, never far below the surface, was bubbling forth in her and she was determined to make Lechaim's visit as happy as possible. In the circumstances, however, would her efforts be enough?
As the car swept into the drive, she went out to meet it with her two young sons in tow. Her three young Filipino maids, who did not intend to miss out on this unique event, sidled out after them. The two men alighted and Eva looked up into that wonderful face once more. It was still the same face but he had changed so much. She hid her dismay as she took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. Their mouths met in a kiss of warmth and affection and she stood back and stared into his eyes. It was all there - the pain, the grief, the deadness of soul that love lost could bring. “Darling man! How are you?”
She saw the tears in his eyes that he was desperately trying to control. She held her to him again as she said, “I know! I know!”
As they stood there in each other’s arms it seemed to Lechaim that Eva was one of the few people that really understood.
“Enough of that, my girl!” Carlos eventually said, aware that his friend was struggling to control his emotions. “Remember that your husband's watching!”
Ignoring her husband's banter but thankful to him for breaking the tension, Eva said softly with meaning as she released him again, “Welcome, Lechaim. It's so good to see you again!” Before he could respond, she stood further back and exclaimed, “And what is that on your lip?”
“Don't you like it?” he asked with mocked seriousness.
“No, I do not!”
“Well, in that case, my girl, no more kisses for you!” It suddenly struck Lechaim even as he said it that he hadn't felt this happy in months, not since that terrible day. Now, lost in the warmth of the Regas' affectionate welcome, he had forgotten about Sinead for just a little while. He would never forget her for long, though, he knew. Sinead was always there with him and she would always remain for as long as he lived.
He heard Eva reply through the fog that clouded his mind momentarily. “Who'd want to kiss you anyway?”
He laughed - it felt good to laugh again - he had come through.
Swooping up the two little boys at her side, he exclaimed, “And have you two been behaving yourself!”
“We have! We have!” Jose yelled in his excitement.
“Come and see what I've made! Uncle Lechaim!” Eduardo demanded on the other arm. Their greeting was as warm as their parents for they too loved their surrogate Uncle.
“Boys! Boys!” Eva exclaimed. “Give him a chance to get inside!”
Lechaim said to the two terrors in his arms. “Now, how about you show me this lovely house of yours!”
“This way! This way!” they responded and he put them down. They grabbed his hands, one on each side, and started pulling him forward.
Carlos and Eva grinned broadly at one another as Lechaim gave up the fight. Carlos put his arm around his wife and they followed Lechaim and the boys into the large house provided by Carlos’ employers. The three maids whom Lechaim had acknowledged with that wonderful smile of his excitedly followed. The famous English soldier whom they had read about was every bit as handsome as he looked on the world television news although a lot thinner. His blue eyes besotted them completely.