Man in Dapitan
Man in Dapitan
Loreto Paras Sulit
The boys came to know him very well. Their friendship with this lonely man
with the kind voice began one day when the boys could not agree on the answer to
a question in their day's lesson in catechism.
As they passed the house where he stayed, they had a discussion in loud,
angry voices, Lope shouting loudest of all. “I tell you that I am right. My answer is
the right one!” Hugo and Felix grinned in mock disbelief. Lope with the curly heard,
quick with his fists, quickly rolled the sleeves of his camisa de chino(i). Hugo and
Felix also rolled up their sleeves.
“Now, boys, can fists settle an argument? Are you trying to dins
out who is the strongest among you, or are you trying to find out
who
is
right?”
The boys stopped short in their coming fight. Everybody knew
everybody else in Dapitan. So the boys knew that this was the
man who had just arrive in town. They saw someone with an
attractive, kindly face. His eyes could command when he wanted
to. The strong line of his jaw reminded the boys of rocks. It
seemed to tell them of something hard and unbreakable. As they
stared at him, he went on to say, “If you want to dins out who is
right, open your books, read the answer very well, and which of
you gave the one exactly like it.
One of you may win with his fists, but that would not prove that his answer is
correct.”
His voice died away as he looked toward the sea. It seemed as if he had
fallen into a dream. The boys walked away in silence. At a distance they
stopped and opened their catechisms. The man on the porch smiled to
himself.
After that say whenever the boys passed by the spot, they would eagerly
look for him. Usually he was either reading or writing. When he saw them he
would wave to them.
One day Lope took a bunch of ripe mangosteens along with
him. He pulled the other two with him and he shyly offered the
fruit. The man's quick bright smile completely won their hearts.
Soon they were all conversing with him as though he were their
favorite uncle. “Boys,” he asked them, “ would you like to learn
another language besides Spanish?” I'll teach you another if you
can stay with me hald an hour every day about this time.”
“What language, sir?” asked Felix.
“Have you choice—French, English, German.”
The boys looked at him closely. At first they thought he was
joking, but his unsmiling face told them he was serious.
“Let us study English,” suggested Lope.
So English it was. After a week they knew the English names
of many objects in their homes and in the town. They could
manage short answers to questions, greetings, and simple
statements.
During the says that followed, Lope, who had been the most
interested and active, appeared to be very absent-minded.
“What is the matter, Lope?” asked the teacher. Lope tried
hard to speak in a steady voice, but he could not stop the quiver
of his lips. “It is my mother, sir. My mother cannot see these days.
She is almost blind. The doctor says she has to go to Manila to be
operated on. But father cannot take her to Manila. We are very
poor, sir.”
“Let us go to your mother, Lope. Perhaps I can help her.” He
went inside the house and came out with a black bag. Lope had
no chance to refuse. The man was fully prepared to go with him.
Lope's mother was sitting on a bamboo chair in the shady portion
of the yard. She inclined her face toward the sounds of coming
footsteps. Lope ran to her and rubbed his face against her left
arm. She smiled gently, but the light did not reach her eyes. There
was only sorrow there.
“Mother,” cried Lope excitedly, “someone is here who will help
us” Lope was so sure his friend could help his mother.
His friend was now looking into his mother's eyes, just like any
other doctor peering into them. Lope felt better just to see him
examining his mother's eyes. When Lope's father arrived, there
was a hurried consultation between the two men.
Lope heard his friend say to his father, “It is not
serious, really. It will require only a simple operation if
you will let me do it for you.”
From the look on his father's face, Lope knew that he
has also immediately trusted this man. His mother was
taken into the house.
Lope waited outside. How long the hours seemed!
Would they never finish? What was happening to his
mother?
At last his father and friend came out. They smiled when
they saw Lope's anxious face. “Don't worry too much, Lope,” said
his friend. “Next week your mother will be able to thread her
needle even at night.”
“Sir,” said Lope's father, “in all this excitement my young son
has forgotten to tell me the name of the person we shall always
be thankful and grateful to. May we know the name of Mother's
doctor?”
The man smiled briefly. “Well, if you want to remember my
name—it is Jose Rizal,” he said.