The Ark

Author's note: These chapters are NOT stand-alones...The story starts here.

What will be anew...1

The first face I see as the lift reaches the sala floor is Ten’s. Curiosity morphs into panic and fright. The four individuals I have brought with me are not in anywhere near good shape. They are badly bruised, bloodied, with clothing that is more ripped and tattered than a rag you ask yourself why you haven’t thrown away yet.

The dehydration and lack of food adds to their pallor. Behind Ten are Bim, Jessa and Lorie. Each grabs a child and disappears from view with them. I’m left standing with Debbie and Ten.

Ten, go get some clothing for Debbie. I’ll take her to my bedroom and she can shower.

She doesn’t say a word, but goes to do what is needed. Debbie also doesn’t say a word. She follows me to my bedroom and CR. I grab a fresh bar of soap, a tube of toothpaste, the shampoo and a new toothbrush, and set all down on the counter by the sink.

Ten will be in with clothing. You may sleep as you wish or come out for some food. We will figure out the rest later. And with that, I leave her to her needs.

As I re-enter the Sala, Dessa asks, How many others you leave behind? You take all you can on the bike, we know you not able to take more.

I saw no others alive.

Dead. You see people dead?

More than I ever want to remember. So many dead. All over, including your school. Dead everywhere.

Others are in the room. No one speaks. There’s nothing to say. For me, today, I lived a nightmare. For those men working the road, I cannot even begin to imagine what they are dealing with. I don’t want to imagine.

I built a house to be safe. I succeeded, and yet I feel guilty.

We are OK, and so many others lie dead. They lie alone. They were without hope from the very beginning. They had no option to live. Their only option was to die, and die they did.

It’s good to know that my concerns were justified. I feel horrified that my concerns were justified.

Who has survived? Did the architect who did the design for this survive? Did those who approved the plans? Did the attorney who drafted the ownership documents for the land survive?

Did any of them make it through this?

What else is standing? What other building survived?

How many are truly dead? Will we ever really know?

I have heard the phrase that, in the US civil war, the dead were piled up like cordwood. Here they were strewn about without pattern or ceremony. Lying on the ground like so much driftwood.

This is a day I want to forget. This is a day I fear will live with me until I die.

A number of us are in the sala. No one is talking. A radio announcer is calling names of people who have been found alive, if any one is looking for them. An interview with the mayor is played. Tales of the horror are described.

Initial death tolls are given. Over six thousand have perished. That number is ridiculously low. The numbers have to be in the tens of thousands. Most buildings in Tacloban have been washed away by the thirty foot storm surge. It wasn’t the winds that killed so many, it was the water.

As the men said, some were washed out to sea. Some bodies have now washed ashore.

We listen in horror, in sadness, in shock. And then Nelia speaks.

I know you not believe, but Jesus put Ira here. We are on the ark he built when all around him think he is strange and maybe crazy. We come, two by two, each time, two by two. God destroys all around us, but he not touch us. All around there is death. All around what was, is no more. But we are here. We remain. Our children are here. All are safe. All. And from the wreckage, you Ira, you find four souls alive. Alive among the dead. This is the Ark and Jesus send you to us. I sure of it. Laugh if you want. Laugh. But I know, this is true. And Ira, the last pair was you and Elena. She come to be your pairing. Jesus bring us here together.

I had not noticed it, but Debbie was standing just outside my field of vision. She has been silent since we left the school. But now she does speak.

When I meet you, Ira … I think you an evil man who do evil things, but help others because of your evil needs. … I think, how is this? … How an evil man gives land to women? But you do. I jealous. I not want the evil but yes, I want the land. I see you build this crazy thing and I not understand at all. I think it must be for your evil needs with young girls. … I not know that God sends you to be my savior and the savior of the children I rescue. … Yes, Jesus sends you. There no other way to understand. I sure of this.

Well, I don’t feel like God has anything to do with this. … Jessa, how are the children we brought?

They scared. They want to see their families. I tell them we will ask for help to do that, but for now they should eat and sleep and get healthy.

Jessa, Debbie offers, there no help to be gotten. Their parents all dead. I see it. It a miracle the children and I survive. God’s miracle. No one else survive. I not tell them because I need them to have faith that we would survive. … Ira, God gives you three more. Maybe God works in ways I not understand.

No.

I look at Jessa. No, what?

Four more. Not three more.

Oh. … I see. Maybe just one more. Debbie, why do you assume those three will be mine?

Nelia is right. This God’s doing. Jesus has a plan for you here. We part of it.

Well, as much as you two think those three are mine, they have a choice in the matter and not only has no one asked them, but I vote that they not join with me. You, however, are mine. So no arguing and no more scheming. I sure as hell didn’t save you to throw you out.

In the days and weeks that follow, core communications infrastructure is, slowly, rebuilt. Assistance from the national government and other nations, such as the USA, Australia and Japan, come onto the island. A Chinese ship sends a little help, but compared to the other efforts, it’s pretty pathetic.

Roads are cleared. Water and food stores are brought through the Tacloban airport, as the harbor is still not useable. Remittances from loved ones on other islands and abroad flood in, but there’s often little to spend it on.

It’s hard to know if the national government is as incompetent as people are saying, or if they are just overwhelmed by the magnitude of the disaster, but things are moving very slowly in the public services response.

People have lost everything in so many cases, and many just want to leave. The lack of governmental support only amplifies that.

We find ourselves in the awkward position of taking advantage of the misfortune of others. Many need money to leave, and have nothing but devastated land to sell. The land isn’t worth much now, and everyone is selling what land they can. We are buying.

We have cash, lots of it, because of CiCi’s management, plus I banked the sale of my last properties in the States. It’ll take a long time to make the land we have, and the extra land we purchase, produce again, but we also have the cash to pay wages for men, and equipment that still runs, to clear land.

Men who have lost their livelihood are working for us as unskilled labor. It doesn’t pay much, but there aren’t that many places to find paid employment here. The result is, we can hire as many men as we want.

Slowly, little by little, we clear areas. We plant vegetables first, as those crops grow, and can be harvested, the fastest. The cash these crops generate when sold at local markets is sunk back into wages and more land clearing… and on occasion the purchase of yet more land.

We are getting very good prices on our produce, as we are competing with food that is being flown in from other islands. Our prices are not predatory. It’s just that we have no waste or loss. Everything we harvest we are able to sell.

The vehicles that went to the government in the immediate aftermath were purchased at new vehicle prices, and we have now acquired new vehicles to replace them, as the harbor has been rebuilt and new vehicles have arrived in port. Even the one I initially held back was sold to the government.

The result is that, while almost all here are suffering horribly, we are profiting. It feels wrong, but we have helped over twenty families gather the money to leave this island with cash in their pockets to start somewhere new. We are paying wages for scores more and, by doing so, helping the local economy recover.

Is this a rationalization? I don’t know. As a capitalist, it seems like the natural order of things, but as we become a huge land owner, it feels really odd.

I haven’t addressed the matter of adding Debbie, probably because I don’t want to.

I was angry with her for so damned long, for nine years. But she lived, she survived when all around her perished. Was it by force of will? She gathered the children she could save and kept them alive. That has to mean something.

When she got here following all that, she, for the very first time, told the truth. That has to account for something.

So, call me a fool, but saving lives and telling the truth scores pretty high in my book. She probably also saved Eva and Dessa’s lives. Five lives saved ought to earn you a gold star, no?

For the first few weeks, I just let Debbie and the new three settle in. We had to break the news that their parents had passed away. That was a little easier, as the TV was cataloging the grief, the death and loss of so many here. In that way, these three didn’t feel like they were alone in their grief. It was a shared experience.

Still, we just let them be. Showing gentle caring and attention, but not demanding anything. There was no school for any children hereabouts for quite a while, and there was no reason for us to deal with the issue.

In the process, Internet via Globe cellular returned. Cell service was restored to almost pre-typhoon quality. TV was back on, if a little bit shaky. There were impromptu stores selling a wide variety of things. The docks having been rebuilt, fuel, which had been scarce, became readily available. And in that way, life here has become a little more normal, if not normal in truth. But Debbie and the three girls are here without a plan, and that most assuredly leaves them far from living normal lives.

I told Debbie that she was mine, but I have not done anything about it. The kids don’t have any guidance from us. We have no expectations of where their future lies, and that lack of structure from us has been hard on them.

The girls are not all the same age or of the same grade. They had not been friends before Yolanda hit. It was the storm that brought them here as a group. All are younger than Ten, who is now fifteen. Their lack of common background in age and grade has meant that each is, in a way, here alone. Ten and Dessa have done their best to address it but, as they are a bit older, it hasn’t been entirely successful.

I don’t have a clue what we do with the three of them.

In another way, I don’t have a clue of what to do about Debbie. I’m stalling. I don’t think she is really wanting to be with the gals. I forced it on her years ago, but I don’t think she’s a volunteer. Without that, she’s here and not part of here. And that gets me to this.

Ira!

Yes?

When you going to take me?

Excuse me? You are already taken.

Not what I mean.

What do you mean?

You know. Do not act stupid.

OK, so have you asked any of the gals this question?

Why should I do that?

Because you would have gotten your answer.

You not tell me?

Ask Ri, or Nelia, or Jessa, or Eva… or any one of the other eleven. They will tell you.

Why are you being difficult?

I am sorry you feel I am. It is not my intent or desire.

You say eleven?

Yes.

You call Ana Ten now?

Yes.

Oh.

Ask them. Ask Ten.

Debbie leaves me.

Was that really needed?

Maybe not, Jessa. But she has to start with the gals, so why not?

What if she doesn’t want?

I really don’t have an answer.

What you going to do with the girls.

Isn’t it a little too soon for an answer for that?

They are asking.

What exactly are they asking?

They want to know if you are expecting them to be your girls.

What has the answer been?

We say we not know.

That, my love, is the wrong answer.

Oh? What the right answer?

Only a girl who wants to be, and asks to be, has any chance of being my girl. All others do not.

OK, I make sure they told this. So when you say maybe only one, that what you thinking?

Yes.

Huh. OK, I miss that.

Yeh, I’m not surprised. It seems to be a recurring theme here. I don’t want more girls, Jessa. … Jesus didn’t send me, and this place isn’t an Ark.

And yet, the damned shoe seems to fit. Of course, you can twist many things to seem to fit. Here’s hoping I don’t have any more volunteers.

You really send Miss Debbie to me?

Uh-huh.

So it OK that I tell her?

Uh-huh.

She ask, if I am Ten, that make her Twelve?

I smile at the thought, though calling her Doz for Dozen might be easier on the tongue. And then I consider calling her Dallas, but only for an instant.

However, the question remains, will there ever be a reason to call her any of those terms? Will she be OK getting on board?

I hope you told her no.

I tell her I not know. I send her to Ri. OK?

OK.

You know the news about Ivy?

Ivy is the youngest of the three children from the school.

No. What is it?

She find her tita on Facebook. She in Manila and say she should come stay there?¹

Good! Very good. Is her tita coming to get her? I’m not sure she is ready to go anywhere alone right now.

Mmmm… maybe you message her?

The tita?

Of course. Why you ask?

OK, get me her Facebook name and I’ll see what I can do. Any chance the other two have family they can find?

Maybe Suzie. She looking.

Good. Help her look.

You want to delay me joining?

Excuse me?

Why you make me be with all eleven of your girls before you be with me? You know how long that take, right? You know, it not an eleven day thing and then done. You know. So why you make this delay? You say I am yours. Why wait?

Because I want you to be sure that you and all the others here are OK with each other. That may take a while.

Can I double up?

Yes, if they are OK with it.

Me with Bim and Ten?

If you are trying to provoke me, you are failing. Yes, with Bim and Ten if they want to. … Look, Debbie, if you do this and are OK with all of them, I’ll be OK with you. We have had years of distrust between us. See this through and we will put all of it in the past.

OK.

Uncle, this the cell number for the tita of Ivy. She ready for you to text.

I open up my text app and tap in the phone number.

Are you Ivy’s Tita?

Yes, I am. Thank you for caring for my niece. You do God’s work, Sir.

When was the last time you saw Ivy?

Not for two years. I sad I not see my brother for so long. Now he dead I am told.

Will you come to get her? She is still frightened and scared.

Yes. I will come. But to get tickets is hard. I not know when I will be there yet.

OK. Please let me know your plans.

Yes. Of course. Thank you.

Ten, ask Ivy, when was the last time she saw her tita?

Why you ask?

Call it due diligence. Do it right now, before they can Facebook again.

The woman is in all likelihood her aunt, but I have no idea if you can see faces on Facebook. I want to make sure the stories line up and then I want my gals with Ivy at the handover. If she doesn’t see the aunt, we don’t hand the kid over. There are stories out now about kids being taken for sex trafficking. I’ll be damned if we save a kid only to put her in that type of a situation.

Uncle, I ask her. She say there a big family reunion two years ago. She see her tita then.

So she will recognize her tita when she sees her?

Yes.

OK.

You worried? Maybe this not her tita?

I’m just being careful. That’s all.

What if it not her tita to come and get her?

That is why I asked. She is only allowed to go if she sees her tita. When we hand her over, if her tita is not here, she stays with us.

OK, I will tell her that it is your rule.

Five minutes later I get a text.

Thank you for caring. You are right. I will be the one. God bless.

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1 - Once again we come to the use of pronouns in a sentence like this. All I can say is that it is typical for a Filipino speaker when using English. You are supposed to figure it out based on context.

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What will be anew...2