The Fields of Abucay

Philippine Cultural Arts Center, Manila, Good Friday, 1998

The stars were twinkling in the Heavens as the elderly American accompanied by his eldest daughter stepped out of the taxi onto the stoop of the side entrance to the Cultural Arts Center. The old gentlemen stopped and looked to the night sky but did not comment on the grand view. While looking to the sky with his left eye, he adjusted the black patch over his right eye socket pulling it away from the bridge of his nose. Nostalgia gripped his heart and he remembered it had been many years since he had visited the old friends that awaited him inside the VIP room. "Cocktails before the performance you know sweetheart." He spoke tenderly, affectionately to his daughter, Elizabeth.

"When was the last time you saw him Daddy? It’s been a long time hasn’t it?" She asked as if she already knew the answer but needed to put the old fellow at ease.

"Ten years I think. We last spoke at the funeral," he replied.

"I’m sorry Daddy," she answered immediately realizing in her haste she had made reference to her mother’s death ten years before on Good Friday.

"Do not be concerned or overly worried," he replied. "We will meet the old friends, and then listen to Lea. She’s quite a prima Donna now you know. You sound just like her."

"I know Daddy. You tell me that all the time," she said as she clasp the arm of her father and led him into the center through a crowd of people who had gathered around the couple.

"They think you’re my young wife," he said looking askance from side to side and smiling as he nodded his head at no one particular.

"Well lets fool them then," she said and placed her hand on his chin, turned his face to hers and kissed his cheek."

A smartly dressed Filipino officer greeted the couple at the door of the VIP room. After taking their invitations, he opened the double mahogany doors and saluted as the man and his daughter walked into the room. The room was lavishly decorated for the season. A long table laden with Filipino cuisine was centered against a wall directly across the room from the doorway. Palms were fastened to all four corners of the wall, an appropriate decoration for the Easter season. A large wooden Crucifix stood in the center of the room displaying a wounded Jesus.

"My God, you did come, and all the way from America!" The voice from behind the American and his daughter was filled with emotion.

Turning slowly the old man came face to face with a small Tagalog soldier in the dress uniform of a Filipino General.

The embrace was instant and spontaneous. "Major Horton, how are you my friend?" The voice was sincere and filled with the unique joy of renewing an old acquaintance. The American pushed back slightly from the embrace and looked into the eyes of his old comrade.

"Randito, he said with emotion. "Randito, Randito," he repeated with growing emotion, and a slight quiver in his voice. "Oh excuse me sir. I mean General Roxas. How are you my old friend?"

"I’m wonderful Bobby Joe," the retired Filipino General replied beaming, "and now I can die in peace. I’ve seen the one man I wish to spend just a little time with before I pass over."

"Nonsense Randito. You look wonderful! You’re as fit and trim as the last time I saw you," replied the American.

"Why Bobby Joe, do we wait so long to see one another? This must not happen again. We must be together more often," said General Roxas with a glint of a teardrop in his right eye, "and your work with the native Igrotkanos. Everyone in the country has heard of it!"

"Thank you and you are right dear friend you are right," replied Major Horton. "Now General shall we have a toast before the concert?"

"Yes, yes Major Horton and you give it!" exclaimed the general. As Robert Joseph Horton turned to face the crowd, a slim, stately dressed man approached him. The Filipino looked very familiar, but he could not immediately place him.

"When I go, you shall go, where I go, you shall follow no more than two paces to the rear. Major Horton, sir," said the man extending his arms and giving the American a warm embrace. "I know that voice," replied the major. "It’s Max Lee!" Returning the embrace the American wept at the presence of his long lost compatriot.