My mind is spiraling with thoughts as I left the hotel and went back to the carriage parked in front of the tavern beside it. As I walked, I can''t help but ponder upon Isagani''s words and the way he conducted himself in our encounter. He was cordial, collected and surprisingly calm when he received me, which was something I never expected him to do, given the state of things between us never improved through the years. But...I can''t help but ask myself: did he really mean those words when he said that he has already...moved on?


    I tried to shake off those thoughts as the coachman opened the carriage door for me as I approached, bowing courteously as I walked. He then raised his eyes and focused them on mine, and then he said to me, "We are ready to depart, se?ora. Just say the word."


    I looked back at him, curled my lips into a smile and nodded. It was enough an answer for him that he did not bother to say anything further as I boarded the carriage.


    Or at least before he closed the door after me.


    "Is everything all right, se?ora?" he asked, probably taking note of my silence.


    "All is fine, Pepito. I may be just fatigued. Let''s head back to San Diego." I replied.


    "If you so wish, se?ora. Although we have to stop by the nearest neighboring town to freshen up the horses before we press on with our journey. Our steeds look tired and we cannot strain them too much - and I believe the same can be said for you. The journey is long. Please, se?ora. You need to rest, too."


    "That is very kind of you, Pepito. I appreciate the thought." I told him.


    "Always happy to be of service, se?ora." he answered as he closed the door.


    A few moments later, I heard the sound of a whip crack followed by galloping as the carriage moved away from the vicinity. A stream of thoughts began to flow through my mind as I sat idle inside the car, my eyes wandering about the sidewalks of Santa Clara as we pass. From time to time, my eyes would spy on a number of children and groups of beggars parading the streets asking for alms. How I pity those poor souls! Such misery to see society shun the weak and powerless, when it is within its power to help them. I felt bad for those poor people.


    "So, how did it go with Isagani?" asked a voice from the other seat of the carriage.


    "I-it went well, Don Timoteo." I answered. "He sends his regards, and would like to hear from you soon."


    "I see." he replied. "Thank you, Paulita."


    "I am always happy to be of service." I replied as I smiled.


    "I assume that he did not take it very well when he learned that I sent you to deliver the proposal." the don asked.


    "He was mildly upset about it, papa. But I believe he understands our current situation." I answered.


    "Did he agree to meet?" the don inquired intently.


    "Yes." I answered.


    "And does he seem convinced of your motivations?" he asked anew, this time his eyes looking sharply unto mine.


    "He does." I answered, unwavering.


    "Very well." he replied, crossing his arms. "I am glad he has considered my offer. You have done well, hija. I know this has not been easy for you to go through this task, but I have nobody else to turn to. After what happened to Juanito..."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I understand your predicament, Don Timoteo." I answered. "As your daughter-in-law, I believe it is only right that I assist you in this undertaking."


    "I am touched, running these sorts of errands for an old and dying man." the don commended with a smile. "I am fortunate to have a daughter-in-law such as you - a woman with a head suited for business, with mind so bright and a heart so kind. You''re the daughter I never had. I''m sure your parents would have been proud."


    "I am flattered." I replied.


    "By the way," continued the don. "Did Isagani make any...specific inquiries about your visit?"


    "Yes." I replied.


    "Really?" asked the don, who seemed surprised at my response. "What did he ask?"


    "He seemed curious about my son." I answered.


    Don Timoteo''s eyes suddenly brightened, and his lips curled into a smile.


    "Ahh. I see. That is a very interesting observation. Very interesting, indeed. Don Timoteo observed. "After all these years...he never grew up from the boy that he was ten years ago."


    "I suppose so." I answered in a soft voice.


    "Ahh, Isagani", the don sighed joyously. "The simpleton Orpheus seeking his beloved Eurydice, venturing in the underworld, casting all reason aside in the name of love, thinking that all his efforts will save his beloved but not knowing that the Fates have already spun and cut his thread! He is..."


    At this answer, my mind began to wander, going back to that time when we talked at the hotel - paying no mind to the grand, poetic allusions Don Timoteo was making. No matter how many times I lie to myself, I cannot deny what my eyes have witnessed, what my ears have heard, and what my heart has felt - that on the first few minutes of our conversation, I knew...Isagani is now a changed man. Don Timoteo might be belittling him, but I saw in his eyes a man so set into the future that the past, no matter how cruel it was, can no longer hold him back. Talking to him was like playing a game of chess with an enemy who is always two moves ahead of you. And his countenance, no matter how warm he seemed to be, reminded me of the cold and unsettling presence of Simoun, the infamous traitor of the state.


    "Paulita, does something bother you?" the don exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts.


    "Oh, i-it''s nothing, papa. I was...I was just thinking about Miguel." I lied.


    "He is under watchful eyes and capable hands, is he not?" the don inquired.


    "I...I have no doubt about Maria''s diligence, Don Timoteo. Miguel, he''s...he''s been refusing to see his tutors. I am worried about his education." I answered.


    "Ahh, as stubborn as his father, I see." the don commented. "Miguel is a smart one. There is no need for that. He''ll only be a child once. The boy is just turning nine this month. Let him have his fun."


    "But, papa, he is almost ten and he is still struggling with simple mathematics and is also having a hard time learning how to read and write in Spanish. I am worried he will fall behind in class." I reasoned.


    "Nonsense!" rebuked the don. "We, Pelaezes are a family of great intelligence! Miguel, being outclassed by his other classmates who are all Indios is unheard of! Are you saying that my grandson is stupid?"


    "Of course not, Don Timoteo. I will not think ill of my own son!" I exclaimed calmly. "He is a smart boy, but the subjects he is failing in require constant practice for one to excel in them. Remember Se?or Makaraig''s son who is a classmate of Miguel? He was falling behind in mathematics. But then Se?or Makaraig had him tutored and his son practiced all week in mathematics. Now he has one of the highest marks in the subject. I do not mean any disrespect, Don Timoteo, as your family is very reputable indeed for your intellect, but I just thought that if such a method worked on a Se?or Makaraig''s son, then perhaps all the more should it work wonders for my son."


    Don Timoteo, upon hearing and understanding my explanation, began to pause and cool down as he took in big, deep breaths. "Hmmm. I see your point. Very...reasonable, indeed."


    "Thank you...papa." I answered.


    "Oh, by the way," continued the don. "How are the invitations? Have we sent them all?"


    "Yes, Don Timoteo. The last of the invitations was for Don Placido Penitente days ago, along with Se?or Basilio and Isagani''s." I replied.


    "Excellent." exclaimed the don. "Let''s see if we can''t persuade this Don Penitente to invest."


    "I''m sure you will win him over." I affirmed.


    "Indeed, I will!" the don announced with a short laugh.


    "Don Timoteo," I called, "about Juanito, I was wondering..."


    "This again?" the don sighed. "I said we are through with this discussion. Let him do what he wants! You are his wife, and therefore you must respect his wishes!"


    "I know, Don Timoteo. But as his wife, I am only looking out for his well-being." I argued.


    "But is he worried about his well-being? You are wasting your time. Let us allow him to do what he wills."


    "But we can do something about it. I believe he can still be saved from his state. We only need to take the opium away and-"


    "LET. HIM. BE." the don roared, his eyes sharper than ever before. "Am I understood?"


    "Yes, papa." I conceded. "You are understood."