Force which accelerates the movement of a rotating mass perpendicular to its motion and towards the axis of rotation.
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After three months of deployment at Lahug Airfield at Cebu, César finally returned back to Manila. For the past few months, it had just been letters exchanged between us; and it was true that absence made the heart grow fonder. That's why, when we met one another again for so long, I couldn't help but to tell him everything that I couldn't write down through letters alone. And I remember him laughing that I must slow down and take my time in telling all of it to him, since he will not be gone at once.
That evening of the twenty-sixth of July, we headed on to the Santa Ana Cabaret. His status as a member of the Philippine Army Air Corps granted us immediate entrance for a surely expensive dinner, and when he invited me for a dance, it was then my turn to laugh at another show of his talent that I didn't know he'll be able to do so. I couldn't help but to grow quiet in my amazement that he definitely led and guided me to a dance along with countless others to be at the right time with the music.
"Oh, bakit ang tahimik mo?" he suddenly asked me, smiling ever so beautifully that made my heart beat faster and my mind to repeatedly ask myself how all of this felt like a dream when it was actually my reality.
"Para kasing panaginip lang ang lahat, at para tayong mag-asawa na nasa honeymoon." Realizing what stupid words I suddenly blurted out, I flushed at once and hastily took them back, "Uhm, n-no. Ang ibig kong sabihin ay—"
He scoffed. "So, this is your idea of a honeymoon?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Hindi ako makakapayag that my bride is so easily satisfied by this. Besides, hindi pa nagkakaroon ng ceremony; so, I suggest she be a little more patient."
"That's cheating. Hindi pa naman din talaga tayo kasal, nor engaged. But, seriously, now that we're talking about such thing... bigla lang din sumagi sa isip ko if you have imagined what your ideal wedding would be like?"
"Not in detail," César remarked and chuckled lightly before drawing his face to me and our bodies closer to one another. "Except for the one who'll stand beside me."
I gaze back at him intently, realizing that it wasn't only his eyes that were full of love, but even that of mine was very well reflected through his. I smiled softly and then asked him, "César, ano sa tingin mo ang pakiramdam na makakasama mo ang taong minamahal mo habang-buhay?"
"Bakit mo naman naitanong bigla?"
"I can't quite imagine it... Alam ko na lahat naman ng kasal ay maganda at masaya dahil parang 'yon ang marka ng panibagong kabanata para sa dalawang taong nagiibigan. On the other hand, madaming tao rin ang nagsasabi na marriage is the 'grave of love'. Either way, it's a significant moment in life. Kaya napaisip ako paano kaya iyon sa kanila? I wonder what it is like for people who stay together until the end."
César leaned his forehead against mine at that and breathed in heavily. He seemed to think deeply of it for a moment before he sighed and answered, "(Y/N), don't let yourself get boxed in by such definitions. Marriage is just a legal pact. What you experience is life itself. Kung sino man ang pinili mo ay siyang representation ng pinili mo na buhay para sa iyo. Love isn't what life is all about, pero naniniwala ako that it can give people the courage to face their choices."
"Sa tingin mo ba may lakas ka ng loob para harapin ang mga desisyon na iyon sa buhay?" I counter.
"I do, but I don't know what my chosen one thinks. If I ask you now, how would you answer?" He slowly pulled away from me, took something from his pocket, and while holding my hand, slowly showed me what he had taken out. Smiling, not minding everything else but his eyes fixed on me alone, he added, "I know that I am not the perfect man, and I'll certainly pressure you, listen to you, argue with you, and love you until the end of my life. And together, we'll be one another's equal as husband and wife. So, (Y/N) (L/N), do you dare to marry me?"
I couldn't stop myself from smiling back, and though he was asking in a rather non-traditional manner of not bending down on one knee, I never minded as I knew he would always put a great priority of me. Before answering at once, I countered, "Bago ko sagutin iyan, may tanong din ako sa iyo. César, do you dare to stay by my side through the mundaneness of life?"
His smile widened much more and nodded. "I do."
I reached out for his cheek, asking the Heavens all over again how I could actually be too lucky to be loved by such a man. How much of a perfect dream it was to love and be loved.
I do. Alam ko at seryoso ako sa naging desisyon ko na siya ang piliin kong mahalin, I told myself.
After all, how could I not to? Especially when I see my forever in his eyes?
And I wake up from the fond memory of that day. Happy and content with how beautiful it had been. Like some new chapter that resembled the first time that I caught his eyes on the field of Zablan—when all my intention of being there is to serve as a medic, and him being there is to be trained as a pilot. Like out of the blue, fate had weaved the way for our paths to cross.
I reach out for the vacant space on the bed. It is quite cold that informs me that it had been a long time already that he had been gone. My body feels a little strange, as if I am wearing a skin that didn't actually fit me too well, and I slowly move out of the bed, fighting off the remaining fatigue that is eating my muscles. Before leaving the room, however, I reach for the almost faded blue shawl, surrounding it at once around my frame, then to be greeted by the sounds of laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen.
It is easy to hint that one of the laughter belongs to César, and my heart soars hearing the innocence from that of others. Almost like a babble that makes us pray and hope to protect those laughter and smiles from heartbreaks and pains.
"'Wag mong paglaruan iyan," I hear César sternly remarks, but almost too soft that one will doubt if it had been a threat or a joke. "Mapapagalitan tayo pareho—"
He suddenly interrupts himself when the baby girl in his arms squirms and giggles, reaching out to my direction in greeting. I reach out to take the infant from him, cooing with the child that bursts with so much life.
"Mama," a boy calls for my attention the next, barely four, as he runs to embrace me.
I immediately have my hands full of them, knowing too well from the bottom of my heart that they share half of my life and how perfectly they become with another half of that of César's. It almost feels surreal to live in the moment, and hope that time will stop.
César sighs heavily, draws closer to pick up the boy easily in his arms and kisses me by the cheek, greeting the next, "Good morning, my love."
This version of him seems much older than the one I remember and had committed to memory, and I wonder how I can continue loving him more than I ever did. The years had been too good on him, that fatherhood definitely makes him much more handsome than I ever think of.
But, in the end, it is just now a big what-if.
* * *
I don't know what time it is by now; however, the sun remains up there in the sky, and the overcast clouds didn't even darken at all to denote some chance of rain. In the end, a gap in my memory exists, or perhaps it had been my own coping mechanism that I am very much in denial. But the fact that Lt. Pedro Aragon is the first one who've spoken to me upon finding myself in some sort of a strange room, he sounds desolate and distant. After all, even before he can say something to me, I am quicker to instantly ask him where he is; and whatever words he want to tell me at that moment evaporates from the tip of his tongue as he just nods to me and says that he'll lead the way.
To be honest, I do not need some guidance. I am not new to the way things are done; and with me being part of the medical team, I am fully aware of what is going on behind the scenes—where those long gone are gathered, before either being recovered by their relatives or be part of wherever mass grave the military will later decide on when things somehow settle down. Hence, for now, all of the dead are laid down to another farther side of the airfield, some sort of an additional hangar or storage, just opposite to where the make-shift medical bay is converted from the barracks. After all, the dead and the living must be separated from one another.
The first thing I sense had been the smell. Even meters away from the site itself, the pungent odor of rotting flesh is prevalent. It almost makes me gag, even Pedro, but I only gulp it down upon realizing that my stomach is quite too empty, and the lieutenant continues to lead the way as he presses the end-sleeve of his flight suit against his nose. And it isn't only us who are around, as more and more soldiers continue bringing the newly deceased in, and those who are to be taken or dead for too long out to be separated as decomposition is definitely starting to act upon.
I continue following after him and in order to stop my hands from shaking, I fist the dirty skirt of my dress. The two of us enter through the small opening, and the smell becomes much worse. Few soldiers walk among the rows of laid down corpses covered by blankets with written numbers on each, crouching low to one after another, seeing the faces for a moment and then be taken out the next. The place itself is dimly lit, with only the creeping light possible through the crevices of the entrance and the small windows high above to let natural light filter in.
"(Y/N)," Pedro calls for me softly, almost too loud amidst the silence of everything that envelops us now.
I nod and continue to trail behind him, realizing for a moment that I've stopped to take in the fact that too many had died for just the first five days of the war, and that the number escalates. And isn't it unfair to consider them just as numbers now that mark their coverings? Do they deserve to be treated as just a number; though in actuality, everyone's lives is actually just a small speck of dust in the vastness of the universe?
He finally stops after walking over a few rows, crouches low, and then unveils the respective blanket to reveal who it is underneath.
By the time I make it to him, whatever strength and courage I have that lead me here instantly disappears. In the midst of it all, I am weak, and the pain is too raw to take in that I fall to my knees right next to Pedro and the corpse itself. I take a shaky breath, my eyes blur, my lungs burn, my throat thickens, and my heart drops. I don't know what to do; it feels like seeing it right now is enough proof that it is all real. That it is not just some assumption from earlier, but definitely the truth.
I reach out to touch his cheek, feeling the dried blood and the coldness of his skin; at the back of my head, I am definitely in denial still as I mutter to myself, wielding for him to wake up and open his eyes that will light up with love and joy whenever he stares at me. But he didn't, even with a soft urge from me. He keeps his eyes closed, skin paler than I've ever seen him as marks of blood and dirt the only color on his almost white pallor. I trail my hands to his shoulders, feeling the soft fabric of the khaki flight suit drenched in red, and I instantly close them into tight fists, wondering if the body actually has a time to register the trauma of all the pain itself or if it had been an instant one. Then, I lean closer to him, kissing him at the side of his neck, feeling the absence of a pulse of life, reaching the next for his right hand to kiss his knuckles and wrist, and igniting more tears out of me to be reminded once more that it is definitely him.
"C-César," I mutter before pressing my lips against his, as if I'll be able to bring him back to life if I'll breathe in to him. "César, please... My love, I'm here..."
I know that it is foolish of me to think that I can do something to reverse all of this. It will be easy to say that this all just a nightmare. After all, if I'll be the one to wield such a dream, I'll continue hoping for that future that is so close for us to reach... but now, it will remain to be just one that is not meant to be. That, if this is a dream, I'll have to urge him to open his eyes and look back at me with reverence and affection.
I always see forever in his eyes, then he closed them; once again making me question all of the powers above and fate of why do good things come to an end?
As some sort of a cruel reminder to me, I remember the light of his voice when he speaks my name; how full of life and love, almost speaking it like a prayer above anything else. And it hurts, knowing by now that I'll not get to hear him again. It is painful to think that I'll always carry a memory of him—that in my mind, he'll always appear to be that young and handsome man, who always smiles and treats me with so much respect, that I've fallen in love with, and who will call for me with so much audible glee and happiness. But then, I dread it all along... that time will soon fade, and I'll slowly struggle to remember it all. That despite knowing that my heart will not forget, I hate the fact that my memory will not be as sharp and I'll no longer remember the twinkle of his eyes, the familiarity of his scent, the comfort of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the sound of his voice.
He is gone, and I remain here. In this cruel dream that I want to wake up from at once. And yet, even in this pretense, I can't just say goodbye at once. Perhaps, I've been the fool all along.
Something that I realize that mattered with César is the greeting. When we're to meet one another again, it needs to start with a greeting; but he often avoids saying "goodbye" when we're to separate ways. Perhaps, it is the very reason why I can't. That, in the end, it all mattered. Because losing him is like hearing all those unsaid goodbyes to me at once.
Sana tinuruan mo rin ako paano magpaalam, I want to tell him. Siguro, kung ganoon, magiging madali ang lahat ng ito.
But who am I lying to? This will forever haunt me. And the only option right now is to wield myself to wake up.
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Teaser for the next chapter:
"Ako nga... Ako nga ang dapat magpasalamat sa iyo."
"Para saan naman?"
"Dahil dinamayan mo siya hanggang sa huli. Dahil... Dahil wala ako sa tabi niya no'n." I take a shaky breath and my hand on his hair trails the still sticky and dry strands. "Alam ko na... maraming beses na rin sumagi sa isipan ni César ang tungkol sa kamatayan. Na ang lungkot mamatay na mag-isa. Mabuti na lamang at hindi naging ganoon sa kanya. Na kahit sa huli man ay hindi niya linisan ang mundo na mag-isa. And he's finally home and at peace. Right here. He's finally right here with me."
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A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback!
More trivia concerning the reality of Basa's death and regarding how much fuel he actually have and how he made it at Nichols were discussed on the chapter entitled Creating the world of AH.
A few list of notes to share!
1. Santa Ana Cabaret, by the 1930s, at 270 meters wide, was renowned as being the largest dance hall in all of the world. It was also where the Manila's richest and most famous partied. It was first only opened to the Americans, but was later opened to Filipinos of status, and to the military, where they would usually drink, eat dinners after cinema, and dance while waiting for the main course. The Santa Ana Cabaret was located at H. Santos St., Barangay Tejeros, Makati City. It once stood in the current location of Ayala Malls the Circuit.
2. On 12 December 1941, it was agreed that except for the squadron's commander plane, any P-26 could be flown by the first pilot to reach it as soon as the enemy was sighted, since there were only six P-26s serviceable after the attack on Zablan. The pilots ate and slept in their flying suits and shoes to lose no time the moment an alarm was sounded. More than 100 enemy aircraft were over southern Luzon picking targets at Clark Field, Batangas and Olongapo. The Sixth Pursuit Squadron were quietly sipping coffee when they heard the news that Nichols, Clark and Olongapo were being bombed.
By 08:30, Capt. Jesús Villamor sent Lt. César Basa with three hours of fuel to reconnoiter the area leading to their base. After two hours had elapsed and no report came from Lt. Basa, the tension at the base started to ease.
BY 11:00 to 12:30, Lt. Geronimo Aclan, officer of the day, saw a big formation approaching from the north. The distant church bells at Lipa started to keel with the ominous ring of danger. 54 Japanese bombers and their fighter escort attacked Batangas Airfield. The Sixth Pursuit Squadron only have six surviving Boeing P-26A Peashooter fighter planes. Capt. Jesús Villamor took off first, followed by Lt. Antonio Mondigo, his wingman; while Lt. Godofredo Juliano led Lt. Manuel Conde and Lt. Aclan. At 5,000 feet, they sighted two formations each consisted of 27 twin-engine bombers (Mitsubishi G3M bombers), approaching from the north and the south. They drew up beside the first formation of bombers at about 8,000 feet and were preparing to turn for a firing pass when Lt. Juliano saw several Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighters diving from their right. He signaled the group and immediately turned right while Lt. Mondigo broke left. The Zeros began firing.
By 11:15, Lt. César Basa, returning from patrol over Ragay Gulf, sighted the aerial combat at 12,000 feet, with his comrades struggling to stop the fighters from reaching and bombing Batangas Airfield. With only 15 minutes of fuel left in his tanks, he dared to help them. However, he was intercepted by seven Japanese Zeroes as witnessed by Lt. Godofredo Juliano. To divert the attention, Lt. Antonio Mondigo caught the sight of those Zeroes that allowed Lt. Basa to land his crippled plane to Nichols Field. Zeroes turned their attention to Lt. Mondigo, causing him to bail out at 8,000 feet. Lt. Juliano saved Lt. Mondigo by catching the attention of the Zero planning to kill him. However, when he was about to gun down the Zero, he realised that his guns were jammed. In anxiety, he pulled the charging handles of the guns too hard and the cables of both handles broke, resulting for him to ram Japanese planes instead. He sped down at treetop level that led for the Zero to break engagement. Lt. Mondigo opened his parachute at 1,000 feet and upon reaching the ground, found himself surrounded by gulok-wielding Batangueños eager to hack him to death due to his very fair complexion. Furious of their reaction, he shouted at them that they couldn't recognize a Filipino.
Chapter title: Coriolis Force. Just as the chapter title, what is going on in the chapter is something that could no longer be changed at all. It is as it is based on the movements of time itself. The same way that Coriolis Force is a natural phenomena that caused wind due to the rotation of the Earth.
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