Free Orchid House by Cindy Martinusen Coloma Page A

shortly. It is unfortunate, your entrance to Hacienda Esperanza. Your grandfather would be most disappointed, and I do make my apologies. I could leave you here with Abner and fetch one of the cars, but then you would be waiting longer. And evening comes soon enough.”
    At that very moment the bushes across the highway shook violently, and a creature materialized onto the road. It was a man, primitive or poor or both, with a long wooden pole on his shoulders that supported a bundle of about ten green coconuts on each end. When he spotted Raul, he smiled widely, revealing several missing teeth, and nodded his head in greeting.
    Raul waved him over. His deliberate steps reminded her of a llama or camel crossing the road with a slow glance in both directions. He wore a thin white shirt with half the buttons missing, revealing a brown chest of skin-covered bones. His trousers were folded to his knees, and his barefoot heels looked as tough as the paved highway. But it was the wide jungle knife dangling from his waist to his ankle and swaying as he walked that kept Julia’s attention.
    â€œ Magandang hapon .” He spoke to Raul and offered the headnod greeting to Julia, which she returned with a smile.
    He then put his bag down and selected two coconuts. Setting one on the ground, he opened its thick shell with deliberate slashes of his long jungle knife. He cut off the hairy outer shell and created a good container to hold while drinking the coconut juice inside. He then cut a small utilitarian spoon from the husk itself and handed it to Julia, motioning that she could scrape off the white meat inside if she desired. He smiled proudly through the entire process.
    â€œThank you,” said Julia, amazed at his expert handling and admiring the cute little spoon he had made so easily. To Raul she asked, “How do you say thank you in Tagalog?”
    â€œYou can say salamat , and that will be enough for him to understand. Every region of the Philippines has a different language, and many dialects within that language. Although most people speak Tagalog or English, some from certain villages do not.”
    â€œSalamat?” she asked, and at his nod, Julia repeated it to the man, receiving his smile and nod. He reminded her of a figure only Walt Disney could create, and she wished to ask if he was part of the hacienda or he lived in the jungle. . . . What was the story of a man like that?
    Raul’s coconut was as easily opened as the two men talked. Julia tasted the watery milk, which wasn’t as sweet as she expected, but it quenched her thirst. She gazed at the overgrown fields and trees.
    The men’s conversation was interrupted by the explosive whine of a two-stroke engine that grew louder as it came down the road that connected with the highway. The small vehicle with its chrome and angular features reminded her of a vehicle from Star Wars as it came zipping toward them.
    These odd vehicles had jammed the streets in Manila and the road to Batangas. It was a motorcycle with a two-person aluminum sidecar attached to its flank.
    The driver, a middle aged man in shorts and a faded purple T-shirt, waved at Raul and gave her a curious look with his nod and smile. A young man hopped from the sidecar and motioned them inside with a “ Mabuhay , welcome to the Philippines.”
    â€œThank you,” she said, hesitating to get inside the metal contraption. “Salamat.”
    â€œThis is a tricycle,” Raul said, catching her questioning gaze. “They will bring your luggage next. Abner will remain here to keep your belongings secure. Again, Miss Julia, I apologize for such an arrival to the hacienda.”
    â€œIt’s okay, really. An adventure for me,” she said and realized how often she was using that “adventure” line to bolster her anxieties.
    The driver welcomed her aboard with a smiling, “Hi, mees.”
    With one last glance at her luggage, she slid into the