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    DEAD STARS

    Paz Marquez Benitez

    I

    1) Through the open window the air-steepedoutdoors passed into his room, quietly

    enveloping him, stealing into his very thought.Esperanza, Julia, the sorry mess he had made oflife, the years to come even now beginning toweigh down, to crushthey lost concreteness,diffused into formless melancholy. The tranquilmurmur of conversation issued from the brick-tiled azotea where Don Julian and Carmen wereputtering among the rose pots.

    2) Papa, and when will the long table be set?

    3) I don't know yet. Alfredo is not very specific,but I understand Esperanza wants it to be next

    month.

    4) Carmen sighed impatiently. Why is he not abit more decided, I wonder. He is over thirty, ishe not? And still a bachelor! Esperanza must betired of waiting.

    5) She does not seem to be in much of a hurryeither, Don Julian nasally commented while hisrose scissors busily snipped away.

    6) How can a woman be in a hurry when theman does not hurry her? Carmen returned,pinching off a worm with a careful, somewhatabsent-minded air. Papa, do you remember howmuch in love he was?

    7) In love? With whom?

    8) With Esperanza, of course. He has not hadanother love affair that I know of, she said withthe good-natured contempt of an attractivewoman for a brother who is apathetic to femininecharms. What I mean is that at the beginning hewas enthusiasticflowers, serenades, notes,and things like that

    9) Alfredo remembered that period with awonder not unmixed with shame. That was lessthan four years ago. He could not understandthose months of intensity. All he knew was thathe had been possessed of a great hunger thatwas not of the body nor yet of the mind, a cravingthat had seized him one quiet night when themoon was abroad, and, under the dappledshadow of the trees on the plaza, man wooedmaid. Was he being cheated by life? Loveheseemed to have missed it. Or was the love that

    others told about a mere fabrication of fervidimagination, an exaggeration of thecommonplace, a glorification of insipidmonotonies such as made up his love life? Was

    love a combination of circumstances or sheernative capacity of soul? In those days love was,for him, still the eternal puzzle; for love, as heknew it, was a stranger to love as he divined itmight be.

    10) Sitting quietly in his room now, he couldalmost revive the restlessness of those days, thefeeling of tumultuous haste, such as he knew sowell in his boyhood when something beautifulwas going on somewhere and he was trying toget there in time to see. Hurry, hurry, or you willmiss it, someone had seemed to urge in his

    ears. So he had avidly seized on the shadow oflove and deluded himself for a long while in theway of humanity. In the meantime, he becamevery much engaged to Esperanza.

    11) Why would men so mismanage their lives?Greed, he thought, was what ruined so many.Greedthe desire to crowd into a moment all theenjoyment it would hold, to squeeze from thehour all the emotion it would yield. Men committhemselves when but half meaning to do so,sacrificing possible future fullness of ecstasy tothe craving for immediate excitement. Greedmortgaging the future for the sake of a presentinteresting reaction. Greedforcing the hand ofTime, or of Fate.

    12) What do you think happened? askedCarmen, pursuing her thought.

    13) I suppose long-engaged people are like that:warm now, cool tomorrow. I think they are oftenercool than warm. The very fact that anengagement has been allowed to prolong itselfargues a certain placidity of temperamentor ofaffectionon the part of either or both. DonJulian loved to philosophize. He was talking now

    with an evident relish for words, his resonant,very nasal voice toned down to monologue pitch.That phase you were speaking of is naturalenough for a beginning. Besides, that, as I see it,was Alfredos last race with escaping youth

    14) Carmen laughed aloud at the thought of herbrothers perfect physical reposealmostindolencedisturbed in the role suggested byher fathers figurative language.

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    15) A last spurt of hot blood, finished the oldman.

    16) Few certainly would credit Alfredo Salazarwith hot blood. Even his friends had amusedlydiagnosed his blood as cool and thin, citingincontrovertible evidence. Tall and slender, hemoved with an indolent ease that verged on

    grace. Under straight, recalcitrant hair, a thin facewith a satisfying breadth of forehead, slow,dreamers eyes, and astonishing freshness oflipsindeed Alfredo Salazars appearancebetokened little of exuberant masculinity; rather apoet with wayward humor, a fastidious artist witha keen, clear brain.

    17) He rose and quietly went out of the house. Helingered a moment on the stone steps; then wenton down the path shaded by immature acacias,through the little tarred gate which he left wingingback and forth, now opening, now closing on the

    gravel road bordered along the farther side by amadre de cacaohedge in tardy lavender bloom.

    18) Six weeks ago that house meant nothing tohim save that it was the Martinez house, rentedand occupied by Judge Del Valle and his family.Six weeks ago Julia Salas meant nothing to him;he did not even know her name.

    19) One evening he had gone neighboring withDon Julian; a rare enough occurrence, since hemade it a point to avoid all appearance ofcurrying favor with the Judge. This particular

    evening, however, he had allowed himself to bepersuaded. A Little mental relaxation now andthen is beneficial, the old man had said.Besides, a judges good will, you know; the restof the thoughtis worth a rising young lawyerstrouble Don Julian conveyed through a shrugand a smile that derided his own worldly wisdom.

    20) A young woman had met them at the door. Itwas evident from the excitement of the Judgeschildren that she was a recent and very welcomearrival. In the characteristic Filipino way formalintroductions had been omittedthe Judgelimiting himself to a casual, Ah, ya seconocen?with the consequence that Alfredocalled her Miss Del Valle throughout the evening.

    21) He was puzzled that she should smile withevident delight every time he addressed her thus.Later Don Julian informed him that she was notthe Judges sister, as he had supposed, but hissister-in-law, and that her name was Julia Salas.A very dignified, rather austere name, hethought. Still, the young lady should have

    corrected him. As it was he was greatlyembarrassed and felt that he should explain.

    22) To his apology, she replied, That is nothing.Each time I was about to correct you, but Iremembered a similar experience I had oncebefore.

    23) Oh, he drawled out, vastly relieved.

    24) A man named ManalangI kept calling himManalo. After the tenth time or so, the youngman rose from his seat and said suddenly,Pardon me, but my name is Manalang,Manalang. You know, I never forgave him.

    25) He laughed with her.

    26) The best thing to do under thecircumstances, I have found out, she pursued,is to pretend not to hear and to let the other

    person find out his mistakes without help.

    27) As you did this time. Still, you lookedamused every time I

    28) I was thinking of Mr. Manalang.

    29) Don Julian and his uncommunicative friend,the Judge, were absorbed in a game of chess.The young man had tired of playing appreciativespectator and desultory conversationalist, so heand Julia Salas had gone off to chat on the vine-covered porch. The lone piano in the

    neighborhood alternately tinkled and bangedaway as the players moods altered. He listenedand wondered irrelevantly if Miss Salas couldsing; she had such a charming speaking voice.

    30) He was mildly surprised to note now that fromher appearance she was unmistakably a sister ofthe Judges wife, although Doa Adela was of adifferent type altogether. She was small andplump, with wide brown eyes, clearly definedeyebrows, and delicately modeled lipsa prettywoman with the complexion of a baby and theexpression of a likable cow. Julia was taller, notso obviously pretty. She had the same eyebrowsand lips, but she was much darker, of a smoothrich brown with underlying tones of crimsonwhich heightened the impression she gave ofabounding vitality.

    31) On Sunday morning after mass, father andson would go crunching up the gravel road to thehouse on the hill. The Judges wife invariablyoffered them beer, which Don Julian enjoyed andAlfredo did not. After a half hour or so, the

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    chessboard would be brought out; then Alfredoand Julia Salas would go out to the porch to chat.She sat in the low hammock and he in a rockingchair, and the hourswarm, quiet March hourssped by. He enjoyed talking with her and it wasevident that she liked his company; yet whatfeeling there was between them was soundisturbed that it seemed a matter of course.

    Only when Esperanza chanced to ask himindirectly about those visits did some uneasinesscreep into his thoughts of the girl next door.

    32) Esperanza had wanted to know if he wentstraight home after mass. Alfredo suddenlyrealized that for several Sundays now he had notwaited for Esperanza to come out of the churchas he had been wont to do. He had been eagerto go neighboring.

    33) He answered that he went home to work.And, because he was not habitually untruthful,

    added, Sometimes I go with Papa to Judge DelValles.

    34) She dropped the topic. Esperanza was notprone to indulge in unprovoked jealousies. Shewas a believer in the regenerative virtue ofinstitutions, in their power to regulate feeling aswell as conduct. If a man were married, why, ofcourse he loved his wife; if he were engaged, hecould not possibly love another woman.

    35) That half-lie told him what he had notadmitted openly to himself; that he was giving

    Julia Salas something which he was not free togive. He realized that; yet something that wouldnot be denied beckoned imperiously, and hefollowed on.

    36) It was so easy to forget up there, away fromthe prying eyes of the world, so easy and sopoignantly sweet. The beloved woman, hestanding close to her, the shadows around,enfolding.

    37) Up here I findsomething

    38) He and Julia Salas stood looking out into thequiet night. Sensing unwonted intensity, shelaughed, womanlike, asking, Amusement?

    39) No; youthits spirit

    40) Are you so old?

    41) And hearts desire.

    42) Was he becoming a poet, or is there a poetlurking in the heart of every man?

    43) Down there, he had continued, his voicesomewhat indistinct, the road is too broad, tootrodden by feet, too barren of mystery.

    44) Down there, beyond the ancient tamarinds,

    lay the road upturned to the stars. In thedarkness the fireflies glimmered while an errantbreeze strayed in from somewhere, bringingelusive, faraway sound as of voices in a dream.

    45) Mystery she answered lightly, that is sobrief

    46) Not in some, he added quickly. Not in you.

    47) You have known me a few weeks; so themystery.

    48) I could study you all my life and still will fi ndit.

    49) So long?

    50) I should like to.

    51) Those six weeks were now so swift-seemingin memory, yet had they been so deep in theliving, so charged with compelling power andsweetness. Because neither the past nor thefuture had relevance or meaning, he lived onlythe present, day by day, lived it intensely, with

    such a willful shutting out of fact as astoundedhim in his calmer moments.

    52) Just before the Holy Week, Don Julian invitedthe Judge and his family to spend Sundayafternoon at Tanda, where he had a coconutplantation and a house on the beach. Carmenalso came with her four energetic children. Sheand Doa Adela spent most of the time indoorsdirecting the preparation of the merienda anddiscussing the likeable absurdities of theirhusbandshow Carmens Vicente was soabsorbed in his farms that he would not eventake time off to accompany her on this visit to herfather; how Doa Adelas Dionisio was the mostabsent-minded of men, sometimes going outwithout his collar or with unmatched socks.

    53) After the merienda Don Julian sauntered offwith the Judge to show him that a thriving youngcoconut looked like plenty of leaves, close-set,rich green while the children, convoyed byJulia Salas, found unending entertainment in therippling sand left by the ebbing tide. They were

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    far down, walking at the edge of the water,indistinctly outlined against the gray of outcurvingbeach.

    54) Alfredo left his perch on the bamboo ladder ofthe house and followed. Here were her footsteps,narrow, arched. He laughed at himself for hisblack canvas footgear which he removed

    forthwith and tossed up on dry sand.

    55) When he came up, she flushed, then smiledwith frank pleasure.

    56) I hope you are enjoying this, he said with aquestioning inflection.

    57) Very much. It looks like home to me exceptthat we do not have such a lovely beach.

    58) There was a breeze from the water. It blewthe hair away from her forehead and whipped the

    tucked-up skirt around her straight, slenderfigure. In the picture was something of eagerfreedom, as of wings poised in flight. The girl hadgrace, distinction. Her face was not notablypretty; yet she had a tantalizing charm all themore compelling because it was an inner quality,an achievement of the spirit. The lure was there,of naturalness, of an alert vitality of mind andbody, of a thoughtful, sunny temper, and ofpiquant perverseness which is sauce to charm.

    59) The afternoon has seemed very short, hasntit? Then: This, I think, is the last timewe can

    visit.

    60) The last? Why?

    61) Oh, you will be too busy perhaps.

    62) He noted an evasive quality in the answer.

    63) Do I seem especially industrious to you?

    64) If you are, you never look it.

    65) How do I look?

    66) Not perspiring or breathless, as a busy manought to be.

    67) But

    68) Always unhurried, too unhurried, and calm.She smiled to herself.

    69) I wish that were true, he said after ameditative pause.

    70) She waited.

    71) A man is happier if he is, as you say, calmand placid."

    72) Like a carabao in a mud pool, she retortedperversely.

    73) Who? I?

    74) Oh, no!

    75) You said I am calm and placid.

    76) That is what I think.

    77) I used to think so too. Shows how little weknow ourselves.

    78) It was strange to him that he should bewooing thus: with tone and look and covert

    phrase.

    79) I should like to see your hometown.

    80) There is nothing to seelittle crookedstreets, yunut roofs with ferns growing on them,and sometimes squashes.

    81) That was the background. It made her seemless detached, less unrelated, yet withal moredistant, as if that background claimed her andexcluded him.

    82) Nothing? There is you.

    83) Oh, me? But I am here.

    84) I will not go, of course, until you are there.

    85) Will you come? You will find it dull. Thereisnt even one American there!

    86) WellAmericans are rather essential to myenterainment.

    87) She laughed.

    88) We live on Calle Luz, a little street withtrees.

    89) Could I find that?

    90) If you don't ask for Miss Del Valle, shesmiled teasingly.

    91) Ill inquire about

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    92) What?

    93) The house of the prettiest girl in the town.

    94) There is where you will lose your way. Thenshe turned serious. Now, that is not quitesincere.

    95) It is, he averred slowly but emphatically.

    96) I thought you, at least, would not say suchthings.

    97) Prettyprettya foolish word! But there isnone other more handy. I did not mean thatquite

    98) Are you withdrawing the compliment?

    99) Reenforcing it, maybe. Something is prettywhen it pleases the eyeit is more than that

    when

    100) If it saddens? She interrupted hastily.

    101) Exactly.

    102) It must be ugly.

    103) Always?

    104) Toward the west the sunlight lay on thedimming waters in a broad, glinting streamer ofcrimsoned gold.

    105) No, of course. You are right.

    106) Why did you say this is the last time? heasked quietly as they turned back.

    107) I am going home.

    108) The end of an impossible dream!

    109) When? after a long silence.

    110) Tomorrow. I received a letter from Fatherand Mother yesterday. They want me to spendHoly Week at home.

    111) She seemed to be waiting for him tospeak.

    112) That is why I said this is the last time.

    113) Cant I come to say goodbye?

    114) Oh, you don't need to!

    115) No; but I want to.

    116) There is no time.

    117) The golden streamer was withdrawing,shortening, until it was no more than a pool faraway at the rim of the world. Stillness, a vibrant

    quiet that affects the senses as does solemnharmony; a peace that is not contentment but acessation of tumult when all violence of feelingtones down to the wistful serenity of regret. Sheturned and looked into his face, in her dark eyesa ghost of sunset sadness.

    118) Home seems so far from here. This isalmost like another life.

    119) I know. This is elsewhere, and yet,strange enough, I cannot get rid of the oldthings.

    120) Old things?

    121) Oh, old things, mistakes, encumbrances,old baggage. He said it lightly, unwilling to marthe hour. He walked close, his hand sometimestouching hers for one whirling second.

    122) Don Julians nasal summons came tothem on the wind.

    123) Alfredo gripped the soft hand so near hisown. At his touch, the girl turned her face away,

    but he heard her voice say very low, Goodbye.

    II

    124) Alfredo Salazar turned to the right where,farther on, the road broadened and entered theheart of townheart of Chinese stores shelteredunder low-hung roofs, of indolent drugstores andtailor shops, of dingy shoe-repairingestablishments, and a cluttered goldsmithscubbyhole where a consumptive bent over amagnifying lens; heart of old brick-roofed houseswith quaint hand-and-ball knockers on the door;heart of grass-grown plaza reposeful with trees,of ancient church and convento, now circled byswallows gliding in flight as smooth and soft asthe afternoon itself.

    125) Into the quickly deepening twilight, thevoice of the biggest of the church bells keptringing its insistent summons. Flocking came thedevout with their long wax candles, youngwomen in vivid apparel (for this was HolyThursday and the Lord was still alive), older

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    women in sober black skirts. Came too the youngmen in droves, elbowing each other under thetalisaytree near the church door.

    126) The gaily decked rice-paper lanterns wereagain on display while from the windows of theolder houses hung colored glass globes,heirlooms from a day when grass wicks floating

    in coconut oil were the chief lighting device.

    127) Soon a double row of lights emerged fromthe church and uncoiled down the length of thestreet like a huge jeweled band studded withglittering clusters where the saints platformswere. Above the measured music rose theuntutored voices of the choir steeped in incenseand the acrid fumes of burning wax.

    128) The sight of Esperanza and her mothersedately pacing behind Our Lady of Sorrowssuddenly destroyed the illusion of continuity and

    broke up those lines of light into componentindividuals. Esperanza stiffened self-consciously,tried to look unaware, and could not.

    129) The line moved on.

    130) Suddenly Alfredos slow blood began tobeat violently, irregularly. A girl was coming downthe linea girl that was striking, and vividly alive,the woman that could cause violent commotion inhis heart, yet had no place in the completedordering of his life.

    131) Her glance of abstracted devotion fell onhim and came to a brief stop.

    132) The line kept moving on, wending itscircuitous route away from the church and thenback again, where, according to the old proverb,all processions end.

    133) At last our Lady of Sorrows entered thechurch, and with her the priest and the choir,whose voices now echoed from the archedceiling. The bells rang the close of theprocession.

    134) A round orange moon, huge as awinnowing basket, rose lazily into a clear sky,whitening the iron roofs and dimming the lanternsat the windows. Along the still densely shadowedstreets the young women with their rearguard ofmales loitered and, maybe, took the longest wayhome.

    135) Toward the end of the row of Chinesestores, he caught up with Julia Salas. The crowd

    had dispersed into the side streets, leaving CalleReal to those who lived farther out. It was pasteight, and Esperanza would be expecting him ina little while; yet the thought did not hurry him ashe said Good evening and fell into step with thegirl.

    136) I had been thinking all this time that you

    had gone, he said in a voice that was bothexcited and troubled.

    137) No; my sister asked me to stay until theyare ready to go.

    138) Oh, is the Judge going?

    139) Yes.

    140) The provincial docket had been cleared,and Judge Del Valle had been assignedelsewhere. As lawyerand as loverAlfredo

    had found that out long before.

    141) Mr. Salazar, she broke into his silence.I wish to congratulate you.

    142) Her tone told him that she had learned, atlast. That was inevitable.

    143) For what?

    144) For your approaching wedding.

    145) Some explanation was due her, surely.

    Yet what could he say that would not offend?

    146) I should have offered congratulationslong before, but you know mere visitors are slowabout getting the news, she continued.

    147) He listened not so much to what she saidas to the nuances in her voice. He heard nothingto enlighten him except that she had reverted tothe formal tones of early acquaintance. Norevelation there; simply the old voicecool,almost detached from personality, flexible, andvibrant, suggesting potentialities of song.

    148) Are weddings interesting to you? hefinally brought out quietly.

    149) When they are of friends, yes.

    150) Would you come if I asked you?

    151) When is it going to be?

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    152) May, he replied briefly, after a longpause.

    153) May is the month of happiness, theysay, she said, with what seemed to him a shadeof irony.

    154) They say, slowly, indifferently. Would

    you come?

    155) Why not?

    156) No reason. I am just asking. Then youwill?

    157) If you ask me, she said with disdain.

    158) Then I ask you.

    159) Then I will be there.

    160) The gravel road lay before them; at theroads end, the lighted windows of the house onthe hill. There swept over the spirit of AlfredoSalazar a longing so keen that it was pain, a wishthat that house were his, that all thebewilderment of the present were not, and thatthis woman by his side were his long-weddedwife, returning with him to the peace of home.

    161) Julia, he said in his slow, thoughtfulmanner, did you ever have to choose betweensomething you wanted to do and something youhad to do?

    162) No!

    163) I thought maybe you have had thatexperience; then you could understand a manwho was in such a situation.

    164) You are fortunate, he pursued when shedid not answer.

    165) Isis this man sure of what he shoulddo?

    166) I don't know, Julia. Perhaps not. Butthere is a point where a thing escapes us andrushes downward of its own weight, dragging usalong. Then it is foolish to ask whether one will orwill not, because it no longer depends on him.

    167) But then whywhy her muffled voicecame. Oh, what do I know? That is his problemafter all.

    168) Doesnt itinterest you?

    169) Why must it? II have to say goodbye,Mr. Salazar; we are at the house.

    170) Without lifting her eyes she quickly turnedand walked away.

    171) Had the final word been said? He

    wondered. It had. Yet a feeble flutter of hopetrembled in his mind, though set against thathope were three years of engagement, a verynear wedding, perfect understanding betweenthe parents, his own conscience, and EsperanzaherselfEsperanza waiting, Esperanza nolonger young, Esperanza the efficient, the literal-minded, the intensely acquisitive.

    172) He looked attentively at her where she saton the sofa, appraisingly and with a kind ofaversion which he tried to control.

    173) She was one of those fortunate womenwho have the gift of uniformly acceptableappearance. She never surprised one withunexpected homeliness nor with startlingreserves of beauty. At home, in church, on thestreet, she was always herself, a woman pastfirst bloom, light and clear of complexion, spareof arms and of breast, with a slight convexity tothin throat; a woman dressed with self-consciouscare, even elegance; a woman distinctly notaverage.

    174) She was pursuing an indignant relation

    about something or other, something aboutCalixta, their note-carrier. Alfredo perceived, sohe merely half-listened, understandingimperfectly. At a pause he drawled out to fill inthe gap, Well, what of it? The remark soundedruder than he had intended.

    175) She is not married to him, Esperanzainsisted in her thin, nervously pitched voice.Besides, she should have thought of us. Nanaypractically brought her up. We never thought shewould turn out bad.

    176) What had Calixta done? Homely, middle-aged Calixta?

    177) You are very positive about herbadness, he commented dryly. Esperanza wasalways positive.

    178) Who would not be! Do you mean to sayyou approve of what she has done?

    179) Of what?

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    180) What she did.

    181) No, indifferently.

    182) Well?

    183) He was suddenly impelled by a desire to

    disturb the unvexed orthodoxy of her mind. All Isay is that it is not necessarily wicked.

    184) Why shouldnt it be? You talk like animmoral man. I did not know that your ideas werelike that.

    185) My ideas? he retorted, goaded by adeep, accumulated exasperation. The only test Iwish to apply to conduct is the test of fairness.Am I injuring anybody? No? Then I am justified inmy conscience. I am right.

    186) She has injured us. She was ungrateful.Her voice was tight with resentment.

    187) The trouble with you, Esperanza, is thatyou are he stopped, appalled by the passionin his voice.

    188) Why do you get angry? I do notunderstand you at all! I think I know why youhave been indifferent to me lately. I am not blind,or deaf; I see and hear what perhaps some aretrying to keep from me. The blood surged intohis very eyes, and his hearing sharpened to

    points of acute pain. What would she say next?

    189) Why don't you speak out frankly before itis too late? You need not think of me and of whatpeople will say. Her voice trembled.

    190) Alfredo was suffering as he could notremember ever having suffered before. Whatpeople will saywhat will they not say? What dothey say when long engagements are brokenalmost on the eve of the wedding?

    191) Yes, he said hesitatingly, diffidently, as ifmerely thinking aloud, one tries to be fairaccording to his lightsbut it is hard. One wouldlike to be fair to oneself first. But that is not tooeasy, one does not dare

    192) What do you mean? she asked withsuppressed violence. Whatever myshortcomings, and no doubt they are many inyour eyes, I have never gone out of my way, outof my place, to find a man.

    193) Did she mean by this irrelevant remarkthat it was he who had sought her; or was that acovert attack on Julia Salas?

    194) Esperanza a desperate plea lay in hisstumbling words, Iyousuppose I Yet howcould a mere man word such a plea?

    195) If you mean you want to take back yourword, if you are tired ofwhy don't you tell meyou are tired of me? she burst out in a storm ofweeping that left him completely shamed andunnerved.

    196) The last word had been said.

    III

    197) As Alfredo Salazar leaned against theboat rail to watch the evening settling over thelake, he wondered if Esperanza would attribute

    any significance to this trip of his. He wassupposed to be in Santa Cruz whither the case ofthe People of the Philippine Islands vs. Belina etal. had called him, and there he would have beenif Brigida Samuy had not been so important tothe defense. He had to find that elusive oldwoman. That the search was leading him to thatparticular lake town which was Julia Salasshome should not disturb him unduly. Yet he wasdisturbed to a degree utterly out of proportion tothe prosaism of his errand. That inner tumult wasno surprise to him; in the last eight years he hadbecome used to such occasional storms. He had

    long realized that he could not forget Julia Salas.Still, he had tried to be content and not toremember too much; for where remembrance istoo painful and futile, one would prefer to forget.The climber of mountains who has known thebackbreak, the lonesomeness, and the chill findsa certain restfulness in level paths made easy tohis feet. He looks up sometimes from the valleywhere settles the dusk of evening, but he knowshe must not heed the radiant beckoning. Maybein time he would cease even to look up.

    198) He was not unhappy in his marriage. Hefelt no rebellion: only the calm of capitulation towhat he recognized as irresistible forces ofcircumstance and of character. his life had simplyordered itself; no more struggles, no more stirringup of emotions that got a man nowhere. From hiscapacity of complete detachment he derived astrange solace. The essential himself, the himselfthat had its being in the core of his thought,would, he reflected, always be free and alone.When claims encroached too insistently, assometimes they did, he retreated into the inner

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    fastness, and from that vantage he saw thingsand people around him as remote and alien, asincidents that did not matter. At such times didEsperanza feel baffled and helpless; he wasgentle, even tender, but immeasurably far away,beyond her reach.

    199) Lights were springing into life on the

    shore. That was the town, a little up-tilted townnestling in the dark greenness of the groves. Ashrub-crested belfry stood beside the ancientchurch. On the outskirts the evening smudgesglowed red through the sinuous mists of smokethat rose and lost themselves in the shadows ofthe hills. There was a young moon which grewslowly luminous as the coral tints in the skydarkened into the blues of evening.

    200) The vessel approached the landingquietly, trailing a wake of long ripples on the darkwater. Peculiar hill inflections came to the ears

    from the crowd assembled to meet the boatslow, singing cadences characteristic of theLaguna lake-shore speech. From where he stoodhe could not distinguish faces, so he had no wayof knowing whether the presidentewas there tomeet him or not. Just then a voice shouted.

    201) Is the abogadothere?Abogado!

    202) What abogado? someone irately asked.

    203) Salazar.

    204) That must be the presidente, he thought,and he went down to the landing.

    205) It was a policeman, a tall pock-markedindividual. The presidente had left with BrigidaSamuyTandang Bindaythat noon for SantaCruz. Seor Salazars second letter had arrivedlate, but the wife had read it and said, Go andmeet the abogadoand invite him to our house.

    206) Alfredo Salazar courteously declined theinvitation. He would sleep on board since theboat would leave at four the next morninganyway. So the presidentehad received his firstletter? Alfredo did not know because that officialhad not sent an answer. Yes, the policemanreplied, but he could not write because we heardthat TandangBinday was in San Antonio, so wewent there to look for her.

    207) San Antonio was up in the hills! Goodman, the presidente! He, Alfredo, must dosomething for him. It was not every day that onemet with such willingness to help.

    208) Eight oclock, lugubriously tolled from thebell tower, found the boat settled into asomnolent quiet. A cot had been brought out andspread for him, but it was too bare to be invitingat that hour. It was too early to sleep; he wouldwalk around the town. His heart beat faster as hepicked his way to shore over the rafts made fast

    to sundry piles driven into the water.

    209) How peaceful the town was! Here andthere a little tienda was still open, its dim lightissuing forlornly through the single window whichserved as counter. An occasional couplesauntered by, the womans chinelas makingscraping sounds. From a distance came the shrillvoices of children playing games on the streettubigan perhaps, or hawk-and-chicken. Thethought of Julia Salas in that quiet place filled himwith sadness.

    210) How would life seem now if he hadmarried Julia Salas? Had he meant anything toher? That unforgettable red-and-gold afternoon inearly April haunted him with a sense ofincompleteness as restless as other unlaidghosts. She had not marriedwhy? Faithfulness,he reflected, was not a conscious effort atregretful memory. It was something unvolitional,maybe a recurrent awareness of irreplaceability.Irrelevant triflesa cool wind on his forehead,faraway sounds of voices in a dreamat timesmoved him to an oddly irresistible impulse tolisten as to an insistent, unfinished prayer.

    211) A few inquiries led him to a certain littletree-ceilinged street where the round moon woveindistinct filigrees of light and shadow. In thegardens the cotton tree threw its angular shadowathwart the low stone wall; and in the cool, stillymidnight the cocks first call would rise in tall,soaring jets of sound. Calle Luz.

    212) Somehow or other he had known that hewould find her house because she would surelybe sitting at the window. Where else, beforebedtime on a moonlit night? The house was lowand the light in the sala behind her threw herhead into unmistakable relief. He sensed ratherthan saw her start in vivid surprise.

    213) Good evening, he said, raising his hat.

    214) Good evening. Oh! Are you in town?

    215) On some little business, he answeredwith a feeling of painful constraint.

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    216) Won't you come up?

    217) He considered. His vague plans had notincluded this. But Julia Salas had left the window,calling to her mother as she did so. After a whilesomeone came downstairs with a lighted candleto open the door. At lasthe was greeting theold people. He was looking at her, he was

    shaking her hand.

    218) She had not changed mucha little lessslender, not so eagerly alive, yetsomething hadgone. He missed it, sitting opposite her, lookingthoughtfully into her fine dark eyes. She askedhim about the hometown, about this and that, in asober, somewhat meditative tone. He conversedwith increasing ease, though with a growingwonder that he should be there at all. He couldnot take his eyes from her face. What had shelost? Or was the loss his? He felt an impersonalcuriosity creeping into his gaze. The girl must

    have noticed, for her cheek darkened in a blush.

    219) Gentlywas it experimentally?hepressed her hand at parting; but his own felt asundisturbed and emotionless as a clod. Did she

    still care? The answer to the question hardlyinterested him.

    220) The young moon had set, and from theuninviting cot he could see one-half of a star-studded sky.

    221) So that was all over.

    222) Why, why had he obstinately clung to thatdream from the weariness of actuality? And now,mere actuality had robbed him of the dream.

    223) So all these yearssince when?he hadbeen seeing the light of dead stars, longextinguished, yet seemingly still in theirappointed places in the heavens.

    224) An immense sadness as of loss invadedhis spirit, a vast homesickness for someimmutable refuge of the heart far away where

    faded gardens bloom again and where live on inunchanging freshness the dear, dead loves ofvanished youth.

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    NOTE ON THE AUTHOR

    BENITEZ,PAZ MARQUEZ(1894-1983) was recognized as far ahead of her period in mastering someaspects of the technique of writing the modern short story. Her story Dead Stars, first published in

    the Philippines Herald on 20 September 1925, has been called a model of perfection in characterdelineation, local color, plot, and message. Leopoldo Y. Yabes, noted UP essayist -critic-anthologist-researcher, put it as the lead story in his anthology Philippine Short Stories: 1925-1946, published in

    1975. The same story has indeed been called the first short story in English written by a Filipino. ANight in the Hills, first published in the Literary Apprentice in 1931, was included in the 1946

    edition of Philippine Prose and Poetry, vol. 3, and T. D. Agcaoili included it in his compilationPhilippine Writing (1948). Other stories by her include: Stepping Stones, Half a Life, An OldStory and The Fool.

    (Source: Valeros, Florentino B., and Estrellita V. Gruenberg. Filipino Writers in English (A Biographical andBibliographical Directory). Quezon City: New Day Publishers, 1987.)